He Owns This City: How Jon Bernthal Gave the Performance of the Year – Decider

I make big money / I drive big cars / Everybody know me / Its like Im a movie star. You wouldnt expect Wayne Jenkins, the Baltimore Police Department supercop in We Own This City, to play a Geto Boys song anywhere, much less in his squad car. But there he is, blasting Mind Playing Tricks on Me through his loudspeaker, rocking his body and rapping along with the lyrics.

Theres an irony to ita cop enjoying music about the kind of people its allegedly his job to bustthat he appears to appreciate; theres a twinkle in his eye, an edge to his smile, like he knows hes doing something slightly mischievous. But heres the thing about Wayne Jenkins: In the world of the BPD, he really is like a movie star. He moves through the world like he can do no wrong, knowing that in the eyes of his superiors, as long as he brings in guns, drugs, and arrests in large quantities, he really can do no wrong.

In terms of his portrayal of Jenkins, neither can actor Jon Bernthal. Already well known for playing bruisers and rogueshe carried Netflixs surprisingly strong Marvel series The Punisher on his back, just for instanceBernthal is at the peak of his powers in David Simon, George Pelecanos, and Reinaldo Marcus Greens based-on-a-true-story tale of rampant police corruption We Own This City.

The show, which aired its finale this week, is a well-intentioned but flawed look at the endemic failures of modern-day policing, embodied by Jenkins and his Gun Trace Task Force. The GTTF was a police unit that effectively operated as a stick-up crew, robbing money and drugs from the very people they arrested, then distributing the spoils amongst themselves. In a city where scrutiny of murderous cops caused a department-wide work slowdown, the simple fact that Jenkins and company continued to make busts made them heroes in the brasss eyesand, for a time, led them to look the other way in the face of rumors of Jenkins and companys corruption.

But in that time window, Jenkins was the rock star of the department, and Bernthal plays the role to a tee. With the face of a prizefighter and the loping walk of a gunslinger, you might expect him to be a brute at all times, but Bernthal doesnt play it that simply. In his hands, Jenkins is a good-time guy, a glad-hander who rewards himself and his men in, if not quite equal measure, amply enough to keep everyone happy.

And hes happiest of all. Whether hes lecturing the force about his methods in a special class, taking a stripper into a clubs back room and then robbing her blind, or protesting his innocence when hes finally brought in for his many crimes, Jenkins appears to be having the time of his life.

Bernthal makes it clear that Jenkins does not see himself as a dirty cophe reacts in horror several times when this allegation is madebut rather as a resourceful one, a guy who sees all the angles and commits a series of victimless crimes. The fact that innocent people are routinely brutalized and, in the case of one high-speed chase, accidentally killed during the course of his work doesnt really concern him. He feels he meant well, and thats all that matters.

Thats a tall order for any actor to convey, but Bernthal somehow makes it look easy. From underneath a series of world-historically unfortunate haircuts, his dark brown eyes radiate a sort of idiot good cheer. (When that good cheer goes away at the end of the story, those same eyes become the dim dark eyes of a hit dog, wondering what went so wrong.)Bernthal gives a physical performance that indeed makes Jenkins look like he owns this city and everyone in it. Indeed, hes often polite to the point of comedy to the very people he arrests, robs, and/or frames. Why wouldnt he be? Hes a good guy, right? Call itnoblesse oblige, call it whatever you want: Bernthal radiates a lethal who, me? charm even at his characters most brutal moments.

And to Bernthals credit, Jenkinss belief in his own fundamental righteousness only collapses when he realizes all his friends and colleagues have turned on him. While pleading guilty in courtin large part to avoid having his dalliances with sex workers entered into the public record and sullying his image as a family manhe cries what seem to be sincere tears of regret. Those tears stem from the shock of recognition: He really is the dirty cop so many have accused him of being, and he cant hide from it behind his wall of swaggering, bull-rushing bravado anymore. Watching Bernthal shed those climactic tears is like watching a magician pull a rabbit out of his hat. Who knew he had it in him?

Without question, Bernthal benefits from We Own This Citys lack of interest in establishing other characters with Jenkinss level of charisma, nuance, and depth. With few exceptionsa Jamie Hector here, a Josh Charles there, a Wunmi Mosaku at timesmost of the other based-on-real-people characters in the show exist to spew facts and figures about Baltimores horrible police culture.

But that takes nothing away from what Bernthals actually doing here. His Wayne Jenkins is a villain for the agesa perfect match between actor and role, like Hector and Marlo Stanfield or Idris Elba and Stringer Bell in Simons The Wire. After watching We Own This City, its hard to imagine anything Bernthal cant do. Your minds not playing tricks on you: Jon Bernthal is a genius.

Sean T. Collins (@theseantcollins) writes about TV for Rolling Stone, Vulture, The New York Times, and anyplace that will have him, really. He and his family live on Long Island.

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He Owns This City: How Jon Bernthal Gave the Performance of the Year - Decider