Miami Vice, which was pitched to executives as "MTV Cops," was noted for its hyper-stylish and artistic ouevre, and for plots that focused on the glamorous and sexy Miami underworld life of illegal sex and drugs. The sets, the music, the camera angles all took a relatively routine cop show formula in a new, pretty (and for the most part, sort of cheesy) direction. The writing was a little flat, but the colors sure popped, especially Sonny Crockett's trademark outfits.
Lt. Martin Castillo is the counterpoint to the rest of the show. He is button-down and wears dark suits. (We'll let the hairstyle go. It was the 80s.) He is quiet and deliberate, not splashy and wisecracking. Castillo is, to some extent, a Latino version of Frank Furillo in that he is a humane and sympathetic leader who adheres to a strict code. But where we learned a lot about Furillo's personal life, Castillo is even more laconic with his staff and he is pretty much a recluse outside of the office.
(There's nothing wrong with this, I'd like to add. Depending on who you are and what your work situation is, sometimes keeping your personal life personal might very well be the best thing you can do for your staff.)
This is probably not surprising, given that co-executive producer Anthony Yerkovich worked on both shows. If a formula works, why would you mess with it? Right down to the -illo surname suffix, if you please.
We learn a good deal about Castillo's formula early on in the series, when his group is re-assigned to the robbery division to help crack a home-invasion case. Crockett came from robbery, so he is the bridge between the two lieutenants. It's an interesting dichotomy: the good ol' boy visiting his old stomping grounds with his uptight by-the-book boss.
It's also a lesson in how to bigfoot a meeting. Ordinarily, I'd advise against this sort of behavior. There's not much to be gained in taking a guy down in front of his people. Even if you're right, this sort of thing will make you wrong in the eyes of many people and create enemies unnecessarily.
As the episode progresses, Castillo essentially conducts his own investigation and does his own legwork, which does help advance the case, but also makes things a bit awkward for Crockett as he is left hung out to dry with his old boss.
This competitive police work and calling out of shoddy work escalates -- if you can call it escalation; Castillo isn't exactly a volatile guy, so there are never any huge altercations. But right about here is where any normal person in Crockett's position starts bitching to both sides and, if at all possible, starts refusing to stand in the middle.
(Also note, please, how Crockett's coat pulls down the stripes in the patio umbrella in the photo above. This sort of attention to artistic detail was really what made this show.)
Ultimately, of course, Castillo demonstrates his superior ability to crack the case, but it is a group effort.
And for whatever reason, after all the bad guys are caught and Castillo shows himself to be a steady hand in a shootout, we see that he's willing to let bygones be bygones -- and pay the rare compliment.
I admit, the ending doesn't ring particularly true for me. But even if it is completely insincere, knowing when to be gracious and give the guy an out is also a sign of a good leader. No point kicking a guy when he's already out the door, right?
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