Chuck Zito, "Street Justice" (2002).

Chuck Zito is a quintessential tough guy. He might even be the premiere hard-ass of our times. As a young Italian-American boy in Brooklyn, he hardened himself into an amateur boxer, and even won a few rounds of the Golden Gloves Tournament. He's also a self-proclaimed expert in several martial arts. But it's his associations as much as his physical prowess and street sense that have led to his fame. Once the president of the New York Nomads Chapter of the Hells Angels, he gradually insinuated himself into the world of celebrity, becoming the bodyguard of such luminaries as Liza Minelli, Sean Penn, Charlie Sheen, Mickey Rourke and Sylvester Stallone (who he bears more than a passing resemblance to).

I first became aware of Zito through his work on the HBO series OZ. He plays "Chucky Pancamo", a mobbed-up enforcer who takes absolutely no shit. And apparently he carries that reputation beyond the screen. As he seems fond of pointing out, Zito knows the difference between "reel life and real life". While his pedigree as a guy that "walks the walk" is clearly impressive, he's not an altogether admirable character. That becomes clear in his "autobiography", as told to reporter Joe Layden. Street Justice is a paean lovingly dedicated to Zito's perception of himself. He often comes across as self-righteous. His values appear a bit murky. At one point in his book, he fervently insists that he is not a bully.

Yet even by his own account, he has played the bully role on the streets. He shares anecdote after anecdote about incidents where he initiated violence because he believed someone was "disrespecting him". The litany of his victims is outlined in Street Justice. Rival outlaw motorcycle gang members seem to get the worst of it. However he doesn't limit himself to that sort of turf competition. In fact he notably beat down Jan Claude Van Damme at a strip club for talking trash about him. Anyone that looks at him cross-eyed, or dares to challenge him verbally gets popped. He even beats down a twenty-something who makes the mistake of "name-dropping" a NYC gangster. That specific beat-down serves to underscore another one of Zito's personality flaws- he's a bit of a hypocrite.

Zito is an inveterate name-dropper himself. He's constantly referring to the parade of movie stars and professional fighters he has been involved with. The photo section included in Street Justice is inundated with posed shots including a smiling Zito with diverse luminaries. Additionally, you can't find a single scene in his book where he is at some restaurant or club when he is not reminding the reader of his associations. If you were ever curious who owned this or that trendy New York or L.A. nightspot in the 80's and 90's, look no further than this book. Zito's palled around with them all, despite his contention that he has never touched drink or drugs. Still he's earned his bonafides, and spent plenty of time with the outcasts. Not only has he been tight with his bike buddies (who he has since apparently disassociated himself from since publication of his bio), but he's also served six years in federal prison on conspiracy charges*.

The strange thing about Zito is that despite his tendency to come off as a preening blowhard, it's hard not to like the guy at least a little. He does seem to value loyalty to his friends, and he's obviously garnered enough good-will to befriend a lot of prominent public figures. He's got an adopted daughter and a wife that he would do anything for, and he doesn't seem especially apt to hold grudges after his temper dies down. He's also led a truly interesting life, despite lacking many of the advantages of his colleagues in show business. To top it all off, Street Justice is a rip-roaring page turner. It's essential summertime reading. Besides, this reviewer wants to extend him due credit. The guy's personal motto is, "Treat me good, I'll treat you better; treat me bad... I'll treat you worse." I certainly wouldn't want to get on his bad side.


*Random trivia: Zito claims to be the only one associated with the series OZ to have actually served substantial time in prison.

The Conclusion of HBO's "Oz" (Years After the Fact).

Today M. and I completed our viewing of the complete series of HBO prison drama Oz. It truly was a long, strange trip. Six seasons of machismo, menace, shifting alliances, violence, and betrayal should satiate even the most bloodthirsty of viewers. Yet at the dark heart of this journey, there is some humanity to keep us engaged. If Oz doesn't make you reflect on the prison industry (one of the fastest growing sectors in our 'New World Order economy'), then you're not watching closely enough. This milieu represents the most fatalistic and complex microcosm of our society, and if you think it represents only a narrow portion of the United States- then I think you are sadly mistaken. While it's true that life in 'Emerald City' (the 4th level unit in which most of Oz's action takes place) is an exaggerated depiction of what modern incarceration is like, it does present us with a general picture of some of the extreme difficulties that we face in our administration of 'justice'.

Season 6 brought us a heaping dollop of what we'd come to expect from watching the previous seasons. Oz's creators were never shy about eliminating its main characters, no matter how much we were led to feel for them. The last eight episodes clearly illustrate that absolutely no one is untouchable. Sometimes the abrupt endings of these lives is randomly meaningless, just as in our external reality. If we learn nothing else from this show, it is that fate is often arbitrary and capricious. One major player is eliminated in such a shockingly unexpected way that it seems anti-climactic. At other times the demise of an inmate occurs in such a dramatically poetic way that it seems almost inevitable. In fact one such episode is underscored by a big house production of Shakespeare's MacBeth that contains a fitting resolution to a conflict set up in the very first show of the series. Part of the fun (as it were) of watching Oz lies in the anticipation of these conclusions. As in life, sometimes they are satisfying, and sometimes not.

Even when I thought that I could track the logic of the scriptwriters, I occasionally found myself tricked, and sometimes devastatingly so. Episode 6 is particularly wrenching. M. and I found ourselves viewing an unthinkable story arc that inverted our feelings and hopes for those involved. It was amazing that we could be taken to such emotionally vulnerable states simply with the dramatic depiction of something we know has happened in the past. Good television strives to close the distance between the cold hard facts we hear in the news and the visceral effects of harrowing experiences, aptly portrayed by competent professional actors. Sometimes the result is magical, causing us to feel a depth of compassion we were barely aware existed within ourselves. The realization of deeply held empathy is our reward for subjecting ourselves to such tragedy. Episode 6 was the perfect example of this process. I found myself weeping for almost a half hour after seeing it.

The ultimate finale of Oz was (I believe necessarily) a bit dissatisfying. Within the last couple episodes there were intriguing new characters introduced, and tales just beginning their development. There were plenty of threads left unexplored, and their presence suggested that the creators had enough material available for an additional season. I'm not sure whether or not the word of Oz's cancellation came down while they were still shooting Season 6, but it really seemed as if Tom Fontana and company had more up their sleeves. Ultimately it doesn't matter because Oz is gone now, and has been for several years. It is left up to the viewer to speculate on the lives of the remaining inmates and administrators of Oswald Penitentiary. Neither M nor I knew what to expect in terms of resolution before watching Season 6, but I am comfortable with my speculations about the unseen futures of the characters.

It seems that any lack of closure in a television series is enough to keep curious viewers from engaging it. In the case of Oz, I feel that any hesitation based upon this absence of tidy endings is a mistake. If you have a strong stomach and enough open-mindedness to take a look at the underside of humanity, then you owe it to yourself to watch Oz. As citizens of the US, each and every one of us is complicit in a justice system that aims to protect us from those who stray outside the bounds of our laws. Turning a blind eye to the ugly realities that are created by our methods of incarceration and punishment only contributes to a collective ignorance. Having the courage to confront the complexities and consequences presented by our choices will not yield pat answers, but it can be enlightening. Why not shine a bright light into society's black corners? Can the revelations about what lurks in the darkness be as frightening as the darkness itself?

Continuing in "Oz".

M. and I have now worked our way through the fourth season of Oz. That's a total of forty different episodes that we've watched since late Spring. I've also watched Seasons 1 and 2 twice. I realize how obsessive a quest this is, but its a viewing pattern M. and I have repeated now with several different television series. There's just something appealing about watching one show after another. You really get a sense of the continuity of the story. While I was considering taking an extended break before we finish Oz- we still have Seasons 5 and 6 to watch- I'll probably break down and order them soon. I do want to keep the events fresh in my mind.

This last set of sixteen episodes was a pretty wild ride. From what I understand, HBO was hesitant to extend the show past the third year. So when the producers were finallly given the go ahead, they took the liberty to make twice as many segments as usual. Season 4 defies a lot of expectations, and tends to be a lot more sensationalistic than the previous runs. It's as if its creators knew they had to up the ante and create a lot of hype. Certainly they had reached the point where they risked losing viewer interest. We see several major shake-ups to both staff and the inmate hierarchy. In addition we lose a few of the most charismatic characters in the show's history to both death and attrition. For sure there are no lack of surprises.

But at the same time, the seasoned OZ viewer should have developed a fairly deep understanding of the logic of the show by this point in the series. Simply by musical cues alone, I could often accurately predict the eventual fate of many of the minor characters. Perhaps this is why the writers felt the need to stir things up with unlikely scenarios. Season 4 brings us Adibisi's realization of an all-black "utopia" in Emerald City. That plot arc not only strained credibility, but actually crossed the line into the ludicrously unbelievable. Another show introduces a television news magazine crew to the unit. As one might imagine, few of the inmates are on their best behavior. For me though, the absolute worst premise introduced in Season 4 is a subplot involving Dr. Nathan's administration of an experimental drug to inmate volunteers. Mercifully the show's creators let that idea die a quick death.

It's a fact that any worthwhile series is going to present certain consistent emotional and atmospheric tones, and exhibit some consistency of philosophy. In this respect OZ is certainly no exception. This is a darkly brutal and cynical show. In making a commitment to viewing it in its entirety, I knew I was setting myself up. Ultimately I have developed the notion that nothing good is ever going to come for these folks, whether they are on staff or among the convicted. Even in a universe as immoral as OZ we start to see patterns of subtle justice running through the treatments of these characters. Season 4 seems to go out of its way to reinforce the reality that its principals "got nothin' coming". There were a few occasions where I found myself wishing (in futility, as it turned out) for just one good thing to happen to my favorite characters. No doubt there is satisfaction in seeing a long-hated inmate utterly destroyed, but it might be heartening once in awhile to see a good guy get rewarded by a good turn.

Regardless I have to give the show's creators credit for trying to keep viewers guessing. While they didn't always succeed with their more adventurous experimentation, I was not bored. I was also pleased by the unconventional casting choices of some of the minor characters- David Johansen, Ally Sheedy, Method Man, John Lurie and Luke Perry make appearances in Season 4. While its soul-crushing tenor may be levying a subtle toll on my spirit, I'm determined to see this through to its conclusion.