Cross (2024)
Ben Watkins’ dramatic series Cross starts off with the Washington D.C. – based black detective reeling from his wife’s recent murder. A devoted black couple with two young children, their PDA was off the charts reminding us of Instagram’s @blacklovefeed. Now, back on the job after a six-month suspension, Cross is struggling to find normalcy at work with the help of his friend and fellow detective John Sampson (played by Isaiah Mustafa) and at home with his grandmother Regina “Nana Mama” Cross (played by Juanita Jennings) who supports him in the care of his kids.
Cross is played by Aldis Hodge, a man who exposes the myth of what white folks call “tall, dark, and handsome”. Our point? Cross is actually all those things! He’s also muscles-looking-tight-through-the-sweater fit, astute, dignified, sensitive, and full of integrity. That means when his white female police chief, Anderson (played by Jennifer Wigmore), wants to prematurely close the case of a deceased black man named Emir to get the black community off her back, Cross and Sampson resist the pressure to attribute the death to suicide or accidental overdose. You see, Anderson is politically ruthless and more interested in closing cases than solving cases. But instead of submitting to the will of the chief, Cross and Sampson insist on doing what all police should always do, following the evidence. Did we also mention that Cross has his PhD in Psychology? This means he’s adept at getting inside criminals’ heads and there’s a messy one (or is it two?) for him to find and confront not only regarding Emir’s open case, but the unsolved murder of his beloved wife.
The eight-episode series straddles Cross’ home life, tentative dating life, and work life, letting us watch as he demonstrates his methodical brilliance at work and combats the building unease of the off kilter signs of growing menace at home. You see, someone keeps sending him flowers at work and at home and all signs are pointing away from a romantic gesture. Creepier still, someone’s visited his house when his kids were home and written numbers symbolizing the date and time of his wife’s murder in chalk into his daughter’s hop-scotch game in his driveway.
The series is adept at pairing scenes to heighten the suspense of what characters do and do not know about the broader narrative of unfolding events that parallel their own actions. When Cross leaves his daughter in the care of his grandmother to go on a date with his new love interest, Elle Monteiro (played by Samantha Walkes), Regina takes her granddaughter to an athletic practice. However, as they vacate the house, Cross on his date and Regina and Janelle (Melody Hurd) to their practice, we watch as an anonymous intruder waits, watches, and stealthily enters their home. This predator is clearly not an amateur. The person calmly wanders through the house fondling the personal possessions and placing a scarf that belonged to Cross’ deceased wife back into her closet before removing a family photo (now three people not four) from the fridge. But when Regina and Janelle return unexpectedly, our hearts were pounding when the knife-wielding intruder hid in the little girl’s bedroom closet when she entered looking for her running shoes.
As episode one reveals, Cross and Sampson are on the hunt for a serial killer (or is it killers?) and they are right to resist the chief’s political maneuvering to close the case of Emir’s death prematurely since he sure as hell didn’t kill himself, accidentally or not. An attentive listener with academic training, literary knowledge, and an understanding of black culture and community, Cross actually dares to listen to, and yes, grieve alongside Emir’s mother. So when Emir’s sister reveals that he only smoked marijuana and would never have touched meth (understanding the lethal threat due to his diabetes medication), Cross listens. He is also listening when Emir’s mother reveals that her son came back from prison reformed in heart and mind and a committed Muslim who insisted that she stock the fridge with turkey bacon and refrain from eating pork. So it is that Cross is alert to the incongruence of the coroner’s revelation that Emir’s last meal included pork chops! Cross also understands the profound contradiction of Emir’s shaved head since his long locks, signifying years of bodily pride and commitment, had been shaved just before he died, something that his family insists he would never have done willingly. Cross then begins to get glimpses of a pattern which unfolds across the episodes. The killer is someone who feels compelled to transform their victims into somebody else before taking their lives.
But Cross is not a whodunnit since the audience knows exactly whodunnit. The point then is not the who, but the why of the murders. The killers make an odd pair, the wealthy, white, and outwardly sophisticated looking Ed Ramsey played with creepy matter-of-factness by Ryan Eggold (from the TV series New Amsterdam) and disgraced former cop, Bobby Trey (played by Johnny Ray Gill) who is wild, frenetic, openly blood-thirsty, and unhinged.
A moment of thought-provoking tension from episode one comes at a dinner party hosted by Elle when Cross and another black male guest from the world of finance get into an argument. Posturing Black Lives Matter ideology to denigrate Cross and Sampson’s occupations as homicide detectives, the man questions Cross’ integrity and commitment to the black community. To that, Cross responds provocatively laying out a scenario in which the dinner guest who loudly advocates for defunding the police alongside Elle, would absolutely call the police for assistance. Their clash is also about talking as opposed to walking “the talk,” as Cross uncovers that the man’s neighbourhood is far away from the black community he claims to love and assumes that Cross and Sampson have abandoned. But after Cross pushes back revealing his commitment to community through his address and his conduct, the dinner guest dares (mistakenly) to call Cross a “boy,” an act of deliberate denigration that dates to Transatlantic Slavery. When the heated argument gets physical, Elle questions Cross’ mental health, beseeching him to address his obvious wounds, open up to her, and seek professional support. In a moment of vulnerability, a tearful Cross exposes the depth of his despair at the loss of his wife, the love of his life, and his feelings of impotence for not being able to save her. How exactly does a self-professed protector recover from not being able to protect the one person he loved more than life itself? While Elle is visibly moved by his honesty, it is unclear if the exposure of the extent of his profound grief, paired with his undying love are too steep a climb for her to withstand.
Based on James Patterson’s novels, Cross mixes the genres of drama, thriller, and action, with the gut-wrenching loss of once in a lifetime love, to form an engrossing series which has a film-like quality. In it we see the tenderness of a grieving black father who is mindful that allowing his kids to see his grief will allow them to express their own. It is also a show about the ride-or-die friendship between two accomplished, intelligent, and emotionally-intelligent black men, Cross and Sampson. When Cross can’t bear to place flowers on his wife’s grave on their wedding anniversary, it is Sampson who arrives at the cemetery gates to do it for him. It is also Sampson who insists that Cross seeks counseling before he reveals the DNA results of the carefully placed hair that they pulled from his wife’s scarf. But the show also reveals the patient and meticulous process of a brilliant detective who has mastered the craft of getting “inside the killer’s head”. Be forewarned, this show will hook you early, so hold on for the ride.