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Blue Glow Letterman's prime-time anniversary special; Ted Kennedy on "Biography" "Celebrity" "Gods and Monsters" "The Rugrats Movie" Dancing with the Television On Praise the Lord and pass the remote The kids are alright
Escape from the planet of the tapes
Date night, ABC
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Can the best cop show on television survive without Jimmy Smits? Just because Jimmy Smits made it look so easy doesn't mean it was. As rock-solid Detective Bobby Simone on ABC's "NYPD Blue," Smits had one of the most difficult jobs an actor could have -- playing the character all the other characters go to when they need to fall apart. During his four-year stint on the show, which he's leaving in a special 90-minute episode Tuesday, Smits has been the most generous of ensemble players. Dennis Franz, who has the showier role of Simone's angry, bigoted, ex-alcoholic, prostate cancer-surviving partner, Detective Andy Sipowicz, won two best actor Emmys on Smits' watch (Smits has been nominated four times). Kim Delaney, who plays Simone's incest-survivor wife, Detective Diane Russell, won a best supporting actress Emmy for the season she spent having a breakdown in Smits' arms. And even in his final weeks on "Blue," with his character bedridden in a hospital, pitifully weakened from a mysterious heart infection and awaiting a transplant, Smits still manages to take care of his co-stars. In the Nov. 17 episode, while his colleagues were frantic with despair at the prospect of Bobby's death (this is the kind of hair-tearing emoting that awards-givers love), Simone remained true to his function on the show as the calm in the eye of the storm -- he floated serenely in and out of cryptic dreams, wanly winking at Diane, trying to buck up her spirits. Smits is enacting TV's noblest (and longest) goodbye since James Caan in "Brian's Song." Was there a dry eye across America in the last moments of last Tuesday's episode, when Simone was being prepped to receive the heart of a fortuitously slain cop, and he raised up his head, gazed at Diane and asked the doctor not to sedate him yet, so he could keep his eyes open a little longer to "look at my girl"? I don't (sob) think so. But how many Emmys has Smits won for playing such a prince? Nada. Which may be one of the reasons he's moving on. Smits' character never seemed to excite the show's writers the way Franz's did. Simone was supposed to be the show's moral center, but Smits was left pretty much on his own to get that across to viewers. And he did. Simone was tough but graceful; he was heroic without being flamboyant, sensitive without being slobbery. He radiated decency, wore it like a Kevlar vest -- unlike his partner, he refused to let his soul be poisoned by the ugliness of the job. Smits didn't body-tackle the spotlight, like some other Steven Bochco leading men; he wasn't prone to theatrical rages like Daniel J. Travanti on "Hill Street Blues"; he didn't deliver his lines in an arresting velvet whisper like his "Blue" predecessor, David Caruso. Maybe he should have, just to let Franz-mesmerized viewers know he was there. But Smits always did what was right for Simone and the show, if not for himself. If there's one scene that sums up the quiet emotional force of Smits' performance, it's the one where, after a long, gut-wrenching day, Simone sits down in the locker room and, to Sipowicz's astonishment, begins to softly weep. It's a perfectly underplayed moment, with Sipowicz realizing how he, and everybody else on the squad, has taken Simone's patience and strength for granted. When you think about it, using cardiac failure as a plot device to write Simone out of the show is almost cruelly ironic. "He needs a better heart," Diane explained to another detective. But who could have a better heart than Bobby Simone?
N E X T_P A G E _| Simone and Sipowicz: A marriage of opposites - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |
ILLUSTRATION BY TIM BOWER
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