American Crime

With the seemingly monotonous variety of shows appearing every season, it is necessary to distinguish those that compel viewers to think critically about the systems that surround them. This past March, one of the most family-friendly, clean cut channels was the source of one of this year’s most gritty and raw shows: American Crime. Created by the Academy Award winner John Ridley (screenwriter for 12 Years a Slave), this new series is not afraid to push outside of ABC’s typically cookie-cutter content. Ridley explores a plethora of the nation’s most prominent social issues through one uniquely American crime, connecting all walks of life into one distinctly American narrative. This show’s ambitious efforts to discuss such topics as drug abuse,

A brutal murder of a former-soldier causes the pseudo-reconciliation of his divorced parents, only for them to be torn apart by the implications of his death and the secrets he died with. Although this family’s horror appears to be a simple, singular case, the lives of seemingly unconnected people are sucked into a larger story. With the country now facing the worst opioid crisis in American history, it is necessary to question how today’s epidemic compares with past drug crises, and how drug addicts have historically been treated by the judicial system. In the aftermath of the white veteran Matt Skokie’s death, a Hispanic person of interest (Hector Tontz) is the first to reveal Skokie’s involvement in both illicit drug use and trade. Immediately, Skokie’s mother Barb denies any possibility that her supposedly well-adjusted, happily married son could be involved in such delinquency. However, she spares no mercy when considering the possible innocence of suspects Carter Nix (an African American drug addict) and Hector Tontz, who do not meet the same phenotype of purity that her son did. Barb’s insistence of her son’s innocence and Carter’s guilt and law enforcement’s lack of pushback against her increasingly bigoted demands demonstrate some of the discrepancies in the way that race and drug abuse are

While a young Hispanic boy is incarcerated for unknowingly contributing to Skokie’s murder, Carter’s drug addicted white girlfriend (Eve) knowingly violates the law with impunity. Throughout the season, law enforcement consistently fail to apply the benefit of the doubt to its suspects of African American and Latino backgrounds. The show even draws from real-life examples of police brutality when Hector is instantly bombarded with bullets as he runs from police; similar to the imagery of Walter Scott’s shooting in April of