Empire: Second Look

No one predicted the success of Empire.

Before Empire debuted, it received mostly positive reviews. Critics tagged it as a fun bit of TV, mostly thanks to the fantastic performance of Taraji P. Henson as the outrageous Cookie Lyon. Odds for success were pinned on the positive side, but no one viewed it as a game-changing blockbuster.

Eye-popping debut ratings made a lot more people pay attention. And then it went on an unprecedented streak of ratings increases, defying gravity and TV trajectories week after week. By the time this week’s finale rolled around, Empire was among broadcast TV’s ratings leaders, both in total viewers and in the coveted 18–49 demographic.

If nothing else, Empire would be remarkable as a business story. In an age of declining live viewing, Empire’s creators found a way to not only get viewers to tune in to each episode in significant numbers, but got more of them onboard every week. It tapped the right vibe at the right moment. It also exposed the inanity of certain network TV programming touchstones, becoming a mass phenomenon with a mostly African-American cast and a lead actress north of age 40.

Empire has succeeded by allowing its imagination to run wild. Co-creators Lee Daniels and Danny Strong were only half joking when they dubbed it “the Black Dynasty.” Each episode was filled with the kind of can’t-miss moments that made ‘80s primetime soaps addictive.

But more than any other show on television, Empire succeeds by having a laser-sharp focus on its identity. This is a show about music, about how the love of music propels these characters, makes them willing to fight, sacrifice, betray and even kill for it. Music is in the DNA of every scene. Viewers may not know what it’s like to record a platinum record or spend 17 years in prison. But every viewer likely has been moved by music in some way. That’s the hook. It connects viewers to these characters and makes them care about the outrageous shenanigans that unfold around them.

Throughout the season, some of the most interesting scenes on Empire involved characters making music. Of losing themselves in the art of it. It’s been one of the show’s stylistic hallmarks and something that no other primetime drama does, not even other musical dramas. Other shows might use a song as a shorthand or substitute for a character’s emotional expression. Empire uses music to convey what dialogue never could.

That was never more apparent than in one of the best scenes of the two-hour season finale. Father and son Lucious and Jamal Lyon (Terrence Howard and Jussie Smollett) spent most of the season at odds. Mostly over Lucious’s inability to accept Jamal’s sexual orientation. In a brilliantly conceived and executed sequence, Jamal and Lucious visited their old house in a poor Philly neighborhood and found common ground while freestyling a song together. It bridged the gap between the characters in a way that their dialogue never had.

Henson, of course, was the single best reason to tune into Empire. Even if her performance had never amounted to more than the delivery mechanism for Cookie’s non-stop flow of quotable gems, she’d have been well on her way to “TV Icon” status. But she was up to something a lot more complex than that.

Clearly Henson had a ball with Cookie’s outrageous zingers. That sort of license is an actress’s dream. But Henson has brought numerous layers than to Cookie. Empire hinges on buying that Cookie would willingly sacrifice a quarter of her life to prison, that she’d miss her sons growing up, because that was how much she believed in Lucious’s music. Henson sells that in a way that gives the entire series a chance to succeed. She adds so much depth and texture to Cookie and embroiders numerous emotional threads into even the simplest of scenes. She avoided the temptation to merely have fun with the surface signifiers (the quips, the wild fashions, the physical comedy). Instead, Henson created one of the most memorable women in recent TV memory. She’s been, simply, stunning.

Howard has done a great job keeping up with Henson. The two actors have a long history together and that kind of bond shows in how effectively they work off one another. Howard’s Lucious is something of a monster. He’s killed multiple people, bullied his sons, betrayed just about everyone around him and yet somehow, Howard makes you care about Lucious. Even if only a little. Howard and Henson together is a kind of screen alchemy for which Empire should be grateful.

Both Howard and Henson have done a great job with the trio of actors playing their sons, including Smollett, as well as Trai Byers as eldest son Andre and Bryshere Y. Gray as youngest son Hakeem. The shifting allegiances and rivalries among the three brothers have been a prime plot propellant throughout the first season. Andre often took a backseat to the more colorful Jamal and Hakeem, but once the writers zeroed in on Andre’s alienation as the non-musical member of a musical family and his bi-polar disorder, Byers delivered some powerful performances. Smollett has been spot on as Jamal all season, making the character a champion of self-expression. Gray’s Hakeem started as almost a joke character, a bratty caricature of excess privilege. But over the episodes, the writers added real depth to Hakeem, especially in his strong bond with Jamal. One of the season’s most intriguing scenes involved all three brothers trapped in an elevator, where Jamal and Hakeem had to ease Andre through a manic meltdown. It was potent family drama that provided a nice contrast to the more outlandish show biz plots.

While it’s easy to pigeonhole Empire as a glitzy soap, it’s had a lot more on its mind. It’s tackled race, gender, orientation, mental illness, religion and morality head-on. And often in ways more interesting than what viewers might see on self-consciously “important” dramas.

Empire wasn’t perfect in its first season. The writers were inconsistent in how well they used the supporting cast. Malik Yoba and Grace Gealey had several really good moments throughout the episodes. Gealey’s grasping Anika, especially, emerged as an effective foil for Cookie. But Kaitlin Doubleday, as Andre’s scheming wife Rhonda, often seemed like an afterthought (though the finale found a way to tie Rhonda more closely into the main action). And why even bother casting luminous Oscar nominee Gabourey Sidibe if you’re going to strand her in a background role as Lucious’s assistant?

Empire tended to struggle with story continuity between episodes. And the plot logic often had gaps large enough to drive a stretch limo through. Good character development and strong acting covered a lot of those flaws.

And the music. Superstar producer Timbaland seriously delivered the sounds that Empire needed to be credible. How could a show about music succeed without good tunes? Beyond the main cast, Empire attracted guest performances from some high profile performers. Genuine legends Gladys Knight and Patti LaBelle popped in to sing. And the show saw memorable turns from the likes of Courtney Love, Jennifer Hudson, Estelle, Snoop Dogg and Mary J. Blige, among others.

Whether or not Empire can sustain its momentum in its second season is an open question. It’s unclear how many episodes the show will have to produce or when they will debut. The writers cannily flipped the show in the finale, providing plenty of potential plot fodder, so fans have good reason to be optimistic.

Even if season two fails to match it, the first season of Empire was a stunning accomplishment.