When the first trailers for the new HBO series Vinyl appeared online last year, the feeling that emanated from them was a mixed bag of emotions. There was excitement at the notion of Mick Jagger and Martin Scorsese working on a TV series that centered on the music industry of the early ‘70s. There was also some thrill at knowing that Bobby Cannavale, a great character actor who tore through his one season run on Boardwalk Empire with the right notes of intelligence and malice. But there was also some suspicion in the mix. Why is there a fictionalized version of the New York Dolls happening onscreen? What’s with the scenery chewing acting? Why does this whole thing feel like the wet dream of some aging Rolling Stone editor who misses the good ol’ days? It all seemed too preposterous to have any whiff of truth to it.
Well, the first episode has aired, and for as much as I enjoyed seeing Scorsese directing with the same looseness and color that marked his previous triumph The Wolf Of Wall Street, the two-hour event was as absurd as those previews promised. For every detail the show got dead on with regards to the music industry (the heartbreaking flashbacks of a talented blues artist turned into a novelty recording artist in particular), the rest felt so strained and over-the-top and often cartoonish.
As Vinyl promises to be one of the more outlandish shows on television in this early part of the year, rather than doing the traditional writeup every week, I’m going to list out the most ridiculous things that happened in each episode. Spoilers will abound, so you’d do well to make sure you watch the show before you read these.
1. The New York Dolls rock so hard that a building falls down
As a lifelong music nerd, I’m all for dramatic representations of music’s power over the mind, body, and spirit of the listener. But this… this is a bit much. In the midst of Century Records head Richie Finestra’s baptism into the world of proto-punk rock, to the tune of the New York Dolls’ brutally simple and impassioned “Personality Crisis,” the walls of the rec center that they’re playing in start to shake. Pipes burst loose from the walls dousing everyone in (most likely) toilet water. Then the entire structure starts to crack and collapses in a heap (using some of the jankiest CGI I’ve ever seen this side of Sharknado). I was convinced that this was going to all be a coke-fueled hallucination and we’d snap back to reality at some point. But, no, Richie pulls himself out of the rubble and staggers off into the night, sirens pealing in the background. And before you say it—yes, I know it’s a metaphor. Just not a very clever one.
2. Andrew “Dice” Clay out-acts everyone in this episode…
If you haven’t seen this two-hour pilot for Vinyl, you’ve surely almost blinded yourself rolling your eyes at the above subject header. But I swear to you, it’s the truth. Playing a coke-fueled DJ threatening to withhold airplay of all Century Records artists after getting a snub from Donny Osmond, the Diceman is pure sleazy charm and barely-masked insanity. It gets even worse when, during his two-day bender, he summons Richie to his home, starts waving a gun around, and waxes philosophical about Frankenstein. Clay is so shockingly great, that I was sincerely disappointed when his character is dispensed with in very graphic fashion.
3. …With the possible exception of Ray Romano’s wig