The Shield Deserves a Rewatch
In the late ‘90s, the Los Angeles police force was embroiled in a dirty scandal involving the Community Resources Against Street Hoodlums (CRASH) anti-gang unit of the LA Police Department's Rampart Division.
Off-duty LAPD officers were accused of working security for Death Row Records owner Suge Knight, as well as the Bloods street gang, which Death Row was associated with. Over 70 cops were involved in misconduct, which included planting false evidence, dealing drugs, bank robbery, cover-ups, as well as shooting and beating suspects.
The fallout saw the City of Los Angeles hit with over 100 civil lawsuits, costing the taxpayer around $125 million in settlements. Many criminal convictions were overturned as a result.
Cops in a specialist gang unit allegedly carried extra weapons to plant on suspects, took narcotics from the evidence room, and even conspired to pull off a grand heist. LA already had a reputation for gang violence and drugs – much of it documented by the city’s bards, the West Coast gangster rappers – but even the city’s supposed protectors couldn’t be trusted. The City of Angels never felt more ironic as a moniker.
Before they settled on The Shield, Shawn Ryan’s TV noir cop show had a different name: Rampart.
Inspired by those true events, The Shield follows the story of corrupt cop Detective Vik Mackey and his three subordinates, Shane Vendrell, Curtis Lemansky, and Ronnie Gardocki, as they head up an anti-gang Strike Team in the fictional Farmington district (the Farm) of Los Angeles. Criminals know them from their custom deck of playing cards they leave at the scene of the arrest, depicting a snake with an unhinged jaw ready to clamp over a rat, flanked by the words: “STRIKE TEAM WAS HERE!”
Working out of a converted church (The Barn), Mackey and his cohorts earn themselves a reputation as “the landlords” of the district, handing out vigilante-style justice while lining their own pockets. They cut corners, put informants at risk, and bloody suspects, but the LAPD turns a blind eye because of their effectiveness. Captain David Aceveda is suspicious of their methods, but his political aspirations often conflict with his willingness to clean up the force.
This drama plays out across a whopping seven seasons, each with episodes well into the double digits. Somehow, there’s not a single wasted moment. Seeds planted in the pilot episode bed in and play out many seasons later, characters and relationships have room to grow and change in a way that feels natural, and it keeps you on the edge of your seat throughout. It’s a masterclass in character development with something worthwhile to say.
The Shield delivers its message repeatedly with a pistol whip to the temple, exploring moral ambiguity and how corruption begets more corruption, infecting even the innocent in the end.
We’re introduced to the Strike Team when they’re already way over the line, willing to murder and steal to achieve their goals. In a flashback episode later in the show, we get to see how good intentions and cutting corners combined to get them there.
The team plants evidence on a criminal responsible for countless deaths. He’s evaded the law for years and frustration leads to them framing him for the one crime he didn’t commit. Once it’s done and the “bad guy” is in jail, they reconvene in their clubhouse and comment on how surprised they are at how easy it was.
They got away with it and the criminal faced justice, but that choice turns out to be a gateway drug to even worse crimes, such as killing one of their own – an undercover cop investigating the team. Every handout, every frame job, every beating becomes another crime they have to cover up with even more crimes until they’re in so deep that they can’t remember how it even started.
It makes you feel complicit as a viewer, with the action framed mostly from Mackey’s perspective, following after him on every door bust with a shaky cam. It puts you on the ground with them, stacking up against every door, clearing rooms on every bust. It makes you feel like one of the team.
Mackey is a monster but he’s also a father and a loyal friend. When a criminal hops a fence and Mackey runs through it like a raging bull, you’re rooting for him. Even as he destroys the lives of everyone around him, including the people he cares about, you don’t want him to get caught. Michael Chiklis oozes charisma as Mackey and gets under your skin like any good sociopath can.
Curtis Lemansky (Kenny Johnson) and Shane Vendrell (Walton Goggins) are Mackey’s yin and yang, the angel and devil on his shoulders. Lemansky acts as the team’s moral compass, trying to pull them back from the abyss, while Vendrell keeps tipping them over it, holding them by the neck and forcing them to stare deep in. This dynamic eventually results in one of the most devastating character deaths to ever air.
The Shield is no less poignant in 2024 than it was at release in the early 2000s. The writing is sharp to the point where many conversations carry multiple meanings, Goggins and Chiklis put in the performances of their lifetimes, and even the minor narratives still ring true. It’s a cop show that’s often overshadowed by The Wire, but The Shield should go down alongside it as one of the best TV shows of all time.