TMC
04-10-2017, 08:04 PM
http://www.avclub.com/article/21-jump-street-did-more-just-make-johnny-depp-famo-251907
The movie 21 Jump Street and its 2014 sequel succeeded due to a witty script and considerable onscreen chemistry between leads Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill. But it was also building off of some excellent source material. In 1987, the televised take on the concept helped build the lineup on fledgling fourth broadcast network Fox. Based on a real squad of babyfaced undercover cops who infiltrated high schools and colleges, the show’s cast of relative unknowns (Johnny Depp, Peter DeLuise, Holly Robinson Peete, Dustin Nguyen, Steven Williams) dove almost immediately into successful social issue-of-the-week status.
After years of producing series for ABC, CBS, and NBC, 20th Century Fox launched its own broadcast home in 1986—the first legitimate challenge to the dominance of the Big Three since the Dumont Television Network folded in 1956. That challenge entered primetime in April 1987, with comedies like The Tracey Ullman Show, Married… With Children, and Duet, and one action series: 21 Jump Street. For its show about baby-faced detectives, Fox pulled in the big guns: prolific TV masterminds Stephen J. Cannell and Patrick Hasburgh, who had created previous action series like The Greatest American Hero, Hardcastle And McCormick, and The A-Team. Cannell had also created iconic detectives like Baretta and Jim Rockford in The Rockford Files. The pair knew their way around a police station, which for Jump Street purposes, they changed into a refurbished chapel, complete with inexplicable fire pole. To contrast the green talent playing its undercover officers, the show cast Apocalypse Now vet Frederic Forrest as their captain, a former hippie named Richard Jenko.
But for a bunch of then-nobodies, the young, diverse cast had tremendous chemistry. This group happened to feature an immediate star right out of the gate, and the writers quickly started crafting episodes that played to the chameleon-like talents of Johnny Depp. In the earliest days of his career, before Jack Sparrow and any domestic violence allegations, Depp’s Officer Tom Hanson could easily be a street punk one week and a preppy headed to college the next, giving episodes about the issues of the day—AIDS, abortion, fraternity hazing, homelessness—surprising depth. Plus Depp and the other the cast members played off each other perfectly. Holly Robinson Peete’s Hoffs was a smart, strong lead who could stand her ground as the only woman in the group. Dustin Nguyen’s Ioki was always good for a stakeout, or to have Hanson’s back at a hazing party. But the grizzly-bear appeal of Peter DeLuise’s scruffy Penhall, juxtaposed against Depp’s squeaky-clean Hanson, seemed to work best of all.
The guest roster was also stacked with the stars of tomorrow: Where else could you find homeless Bridget Fonda, Brad Pitt in the high school cafeteria, Josh Brolin as a coke-snorting murderer, or Jason Priestley in a mohawk? The show even had a decent theme song, sung by Robinson Peete and backed by Depp and DeLuise. Pulling in some cool music for the younger, alternative set—like having R.E.M. score the army-themed episode “A.W.O.L.” with “Orange Crush”—didn’t hurt either. By August 1987, 21 Jump Street was winning its time slot, the first Fox show to do so. Eventually, it moved to Mondays to kick off a whole new night of programming for the network.
Jump Street took a while to even out: Its two-part pilot rather clunkily explains why Hanson gets kicked off his original beat and sent to the Jump Street chapel. There, he immediately gets sent into an undercover operation at a high school, standing off against drug dealers and trying to help the junkie/clarinet player who owes them thousands of dollars. The most painful part of the puzzle is Forrest’s “groovy” character, who was fortunately written off in episode six, the victim of a drunk driver. That brought in the stern Steven Williams as Captain Fuller, adding some necessary structure to the recess-ready Jump Street hijinks.
Then came the topical material, where the grittiness and eternal gray of generic Vancouver locations only made the vibrancy of the young cast stand out more. Fuller would rattle off some stats about AIDS, or teen homelessness, or hazing casualties at least once an episode, to remind everyone what the stakes were. (Episodes also frequently ended with PSAs about drugs or child abuse.) A brief flirtation between Hanson and Hoffs was squashed in season one, and for the rest of its tenure, Jump Street went with the stuff that was grabbing headlines and driving conversations, a formula that worked since its personalities were already so solid.
A bit too solid, in fact: Depp’s meteoric rise meant that he was bound to be the first to leave the show. Jump Street got him noticed, but he was picky about his starring roles on the big screen, choosing to work only with directors he admired: John Waters for Cry-Baby, and Tim Burton for Edward Scissorhands (the latter being the start of a decades-long partnership). With Depp poised to take off, the series brought in backup during season three, in the form of Richard Grieco. Grieco’s Booker was similarly good-looking, but a bit of a misanthrope, one of the only outsiders in the chapel. Ironically, Depp wound up sticking with the show into season four, while Grieco quickly got spun off into his own unsuccessful series, Booker, with Lori Petty as his girl Friday. (Booker’s theme song was a Billy Idol song from 1982, and the show technically kicked off in 1989, but its opening credits may be the most ’90s thing anyone has ever seen.) Depp left in the middle of season four, with Dustin Nguyen following at the end of the season. Fox then also said goodbye to the show at that point, but it was picked up in syndication for a fifth season. Some younger officers were brought in to keep the “babyface” undercover operation alive, but it didn’t take, and the show died in 1991.
Besides the wisecracks and Tatum and Hill, what’s fun about the Jump Street movies is how much they play into the structure of the original series: the stern captain (Ice Cube), the frequent car chases, and the considerable effort to fit into high school as an adult. Nearly all of the original cast members have shown up in cameos in the two films, even Grieco. Best of all is the reveal at the end of the first movie, when two members of of the drug-dealing motorcycle gang turn out to be none other than Penhall and Hanson themselves, still working as undercover operatives, now for the DEA. As they die in the ensuing shootout, their final words are that they’re glad that they get to go out on the job, next to their best friend. These beloved characters from the original 21 Jump Street shouldn’t have ended any other way.
To celebrate its 30th anniversary, below are 10 episodes that encapsulate the essence of the 21 Jump Street appeal—all of which are currently streaming on Hulu.
The movie 21 Jump Street and its 2014 sequel succeeded due to a witty script and considerable onscreen chemistry between leads Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill. But it was also building off of some excellent source material. In 1987, the televised take on the concept helped build the lineup on fledgling fourth broadcast network Fox. Based on a real squad of babyfaced undercover cops who infiltrated high schools and colleges, the show’s cast of relative unknowns (Johnny Depp, Peter DeLuise, Holly Robinson Peete, Dustin Nguyen, Steven Williams) dove almost immediately into successful social issue-of-the-week status.
After years of producing series for ABC, CBS, and NBC, 20th Century Fox launched its own broadcast home in 1986—the first legitimate challenge to the dominance of the Big Three since the Dumont Television Network folded in 1956. That challenge entered primetime in April 1987, with comedies like The Tracey Ullman Show, Married… With Children, and Duet, and one action series: 21 Jump Street. For its show about baby-faced detectives, Fox pulled in the big guns: prolific TV masterminds Stephen J. Cannell and Patrick Hasburgh, who had created previous action series like The Greatest American Hero, Hardcastle And McCormick, and The A-Team. Cannell had also created iconic detectives like Baretta and Jim Rockford in The Rockford Files. The pair knew their way around a police station, which for Jump Street purposes, they changed into a refurbished chapel, complete with inexplicable fire pole. To contrast the green talent playing its undercover officers, the show cast Apocalypse Now vet Frederic Forrest as their captain, a former hippie named Richard Jenko.
But for a bunch of then-nobodies, the young, diverse cast had tremendous chemistry. This group happened to feature an immediate star right out of the gate, and the writers quickly started crafting episodes that played to the chameleon-like talents of Johnny Depp. In the earliest days of his career, before Jack Sparrow and any domestic violence allegations, Depp’s Officer Tom Hanson could easily be a street punk one week and a preppy headed to college the next, giving episodes about the issues of the day—AIDS, abortion, fraternity hazing, homelessness—surprising depth. Plus Depp and the other the cast members played off each other perfectly. Holly Robinson Peete’s Hoffs was a smart, strong lead who could stand her ground as the only woman in the group. Dustin Nguyen’s Ioki was always good for a stakeout, or to have Hanson’s back at a hazing party. But the grizzly-bear appeal of Peter DeLuise’s scruffy Penhall, juxtaposed against Depp’s squeaky-clean Hanson, seemed to work best of all.
The guest roster was also stacked with the stars of tomorrow: Where else could you find homeless Bridget Fonda, Brad Pitt in the high school cafeteria, Josh Brolin as a coke-snorting murderer, or Jason Priestley in a mohawk? The show even had a decent theme song, sung by Robinson Peete and backed by Depp and DeLuise. Pulling in some cool music for the younger, alternative set—like having R.E.M. score the army-themed episode “A.W.O.L.” with “Orange Crush”—didn’t hurt either. By August 1987, 21 Jump Street was winning its time slot, the first Fox show to do so. Eventually, it moved to Mondays to kick off a whole new night of programming for the network.
Jump Street took a while to even out: Its two-part pilot rather clunkily explains why Hanson gets kicked off his original beat and sent to the Jump Street chapel. There, he immediately gets sent into an undercover operation at a high school, standing off against drug dealers and trying to help the junkie/clarinet player who owes them thousands of dollars. The most painful part of the puzzle is Forrest’s “groovy” character, who was fortunately written off in episode six, the victim of a drunk driver. That brought in the stern Steven Williams as Captain Fuller, adding some necessary structure to the recess-ready Jump Street hijinks.
Then came the topical material, where the grittiness and eternal gray of generic Vancouver locations only made the vibrancy of the young cast stand out more. Fuller would rattle off some stats about AIDS, or teen homelessness, or hazing casualties at least once an episode, to remind everyone what the stakes were. (Episodes also frequently ended with PSAs about drugs or child abuse.) A brief flirtation between Hanson and Hoffs was squashed in season one, and for the rest of its tenure, Jump Street went with the stuff that was grabbing headlines and driving conversations, a formula that worked since its personalities were already so solid.
A bit too solid, in fact: Depp’s meteoric rise meant that he was bound to be the first to leave the show. Jump Street got him noticed, but he was picky about his starring roles on the big screen, choosing to work only with directors he admired: John Waters for Cry-Baby, and Tim Burton for Edward Scissorhands (the latter being the start of a decades-long partnership). With Depp poised to take off, the series brought in backup during season three, in the form of Richard Grieco. Grieco’s Booker was similarly good-looking, but a bit of a misanthrope, one of the only outsiders in the chapel. Ironically, Depp wound up sticking with the show into season four, while Grieco quickly got spun off into his own unsuccessful series, Booker, with Lori Petty as his girl Friday. (Booker’s theme song was a Billy Idol song from 1982, and the show technically kicked off in 1989, but its opening credits may be the most ’90s thing anyone has ever seen.) Depp left in the middle of season four, with Dustin Nguyen following at the end of the season. Fox then also said goodbye to the show at that point, but it was picked up in syndication for a fifth season. Some younger officers were brought in to keep the “babyface” undercover operation alive, but it didn’t take, and the show died in 1991.
Besides the wisecracks and Tatum and Hill, what’s fun about the Jump Street movies is how much they play into the structure of the original series: the stern captain (Ice Cube), the frequent car chases, and the considerable effort to fit into high school as an adult. Nearly all of the original cast members have shown up in cameos in the two films, even Grieco. Best of all is the reveal at the end of the first movie, when two members of of the drug-dealing motorcycle gang turn out to be none other than Penhall and Hanson themselves, still working as undercover operatives, now for the DEA. As they die in the ensuing shootout, their final words are that they’re glad that they get to go out on the job, next to their best friend. These beloved characters from the original 21 Jump Street shouldn’t have ended any other way.
To celebrate its 30th anniversary, below are 10 episodes that encapsulate the essence of the 21 Jump Street appeal—all of which are currently streaming on Hulu.