The character was Detective Andy Sipowicz, the actor was Dennis Franz and the show was NYPD Blue.
Premiering on ABC on September 21, 1993, the series –– depicting the workaday personal and professional struggles of the detectives at New York’s fictional 15th precinct –– was initially engulfed in a media firestorm over its salty language and sexy situations. Not only was such content groundbreaking for network television at the time, it was concerning enough for some regional affiliates to drop it entirely from their lineup.
Thanks to near-universal acclaim from critics who praised its strong writing, charismatic cast and rock-solid production values, NYPD not only weathered those initial storms, it survived and thrived (and those wayward affiliates eventually came around too). A massive ratings hit right out the gate, it accumulated an armload of Emmy awards over its 12-season run and made a pop-culture icon out of its accidental lead, Sipowicz.
Portly, balding, perpetually scowling and sure to be sweating, Sipowicz was an unlikely fan favorite, but he nonetheless ended up as the signature character of one of the great shows of the ’90s.
NYPD Blue Origins
As a matter of historical context, police procedurals were at an interesting place in the early ’90s. Hill Street Blues had wrapped up its critically acclaimed run in 1987, and Miami Vice closed up shop in 1990. Debuting in 1981 and 1984 respectively on NBC, both defined a new ethos for cop dramas in the ’80s, with a focus on gritty reality and tortured, introspective lead characters that was a far cry from the days of Dragnet or CHiPs.
While the premiere of the original Law & Order in 1990 signified a retrenchment for cop shows towards a more formulaic “Just the facts, ma’am” approach (to great success, mind you), Hill Street Blues creator Steven Bochco saw room for something that dug a little deeper. Teaming with frequent collaborator David Milch, Bochco came up with an idea that would pick up the Hill Street baton and (hopefully) erase the stench of his short-lived Cop Rock from 1990, a weekly musical with cops and crooks singing and dancing (seriously, look it up).
Amplifying the gritty, lived-in ethos of Hill Street but transplanting it from the Midwest to the East Coast, Bochco and Milch saw NYPD Blue as a vehicle for sophisticated, character-centric drama suffused with a new take on police procedurals, including raw, handheld camerawork. They also sought to cajole wary network executives into allowing for the adult situations and subject matter that had, of late, become the purview of the burgeoning premium cable market. It was a risky bet, but one that paid off handsomely from both a ratings and creative perspective.
From a 2023 perspective, the nudity and profanity in the early days of NYPD Blue feels relatively tame, with a staged, Cinemax After Dark quality to it (sexy sax music optional). Then again, perhaps this is just another way the show broadened the horizons of what to expect on television: What was once so groundbreaking now feels somewhat ordinary.
Regardless, in what can only be called a convergence of good timing, NYPD Blue landed at ABC precisely when the network was looking to take some risks. More fortuitously, this was two years before ABC was acquired by the Disney company, which would likely have been far more reticent about green-lighting the show but was also hard-pressed to cancel it following the merger, given its then-status as one of the most popular series on the air.
Before the opening credits have even rolled in the first episode, NYPD Blue lays down its marker, with Sipowicz expressing his frustration at ADA Sylvia Costas (Sharon Lawrence) after a heated exchange by yanking his crotch and yelling, “Ipsa this, you pissy little bitch!”
Cop Rock, this wasn’t.
From Caruso to Smits (and Always Franz)
Franz was the first actor approached for the show, before there was a script or even a character. While reticent to pick up another badge after a long career playing pissed-off policemen (including opposite Bruce Willis in 1990’s Die Hard 2), his past experience with Bochco on Hill Street Blues (and its spin-off, Beverly Hills Buntz) made it hard to turn down. This proved fortuitous for both the actor and audiences. Watch the first season episode “NYPD Lou” and be captivated by Franz’s slow-burn performance as he yanks a confession out of a child molester and murderer, culminating in his enraged punching of a door.
NYPD Blue was raw and real, and unlike anything audiences had ever seen before. The cases were compelling, yes, but more important, always more important, were the characters. The arc Franz got to play out over the next 12 years stands apart as one of the great redemption stories in TV history, dragging his character through every conceivable personal and professional hardship as he claws his way to the other side. Thanks to the combination of writing and performance, the show didn’t just make us sympathize with Sipowicz; it made us love him.
Of course, the top-billed star during the first season wasn’t Franz but rather David Caruso as the noble and tormented detective John Kelly. Caruso had been kicking around the industry for the previous decade and change, including an appearance in 1982’s First Blood as well as in a recurring role on Hill Street. It’s easy to forget in the wake of the hammy caricature of Caruso that emerged after CSI: Miami, but his soft-spoken intensity as Kelly was absolutely magnetic (and his bare butt during love scenes no doubt drove much of the water cooler chatter).
Sadly, the sudden spotlight for Caruso after toiling in relatively obscurity quickly went to the actor’s head. With film offers coming his way, he decided the weekly toil of a TV show was beneath him and bolted after one full season and the first four episodes of the second. (His bid for big-screen stardom didn’t quite pan out, but after a decade in career limbo he eventually rode the CSI train for 10 seasons before comfortably retiring from the business, so I guess things worked out alright in the end.)
Regardless, Caruso’s exit signaled a make-or-break moment for one of the hottest shows on TV: Was it solely a star vehicle, destined to collapse without its original lead, or was the premise strong enough to shoulder the change? It was a risky bet, to be sure, but no doubt helped by the fact that another Bochco alum, L.A. Law’s Jimmy Smits (who had actually been the first choice to play Kelly, then named Flinn), stepped in during the second season as Sipowicz’s new partner, Bobby Simone.
Thanks to the continued distinctive identity of the show established by head writer and executive producer David Milch (who remained in that role for the first seven seasons), critics remained onboard. More importantly, audiences stuck around and even grew. NYPD Blue was here to stay. Indeed, the Simone-Sipowicz partnership proved more potent with audiences thanks to the stars’ easy chemistry and the number of seasons over which their onscreen relationship grew and deepened.
The Heart of the 15th Precinct
Eventually, Smits decided to move on after serving four years on the NYPD beat (his last episode, 1998’s “Hearts and Souls,” remains one of the most emotionally-wrenching episodes of TV ever made as his character slowly succumbs to an illness). That was the sixth season, and by then the show had firmly established its style, formula and audience. Smits had been a compelling lead in his own right, but it was clear even during his tenure that Franz’s Sipowicz was the true heart and soul of NYPD Blue.
By the time NYPD Blue ended its run in 2005 after 12 seasons, a whole slew of famous and soon-to-be-famous guest stars had traipsed through the 15th squad during NYPD Blue’s tenure: David Schwimmer, Giancarlo Esposito, Lucy Liu, Pedro Pascal, and more.
Although it remained a steady ratings performer, much of the early buzz eventually dissipated (as did the nudity) as the show went from the feisty upstart to a venerated elder. Still, the best thing to be said is that even at its most “ordinary,” NYPD Blue stood head-and-shoulders above much of its contemporary competition. That consistency allowed it to end just as strongly as it started.
Franz was the only actor to appear in all 261 episodes (Gordon Clapp, who played bumbling detective Greg Medavoy, is a close second at 256). The Sipowicz actor won four Emmy awards for playing the role. Other partners came and went (Rick Schroder and Mark-Paul Gosselaar –– the former unceremoniously killed off after an unmemorable two-season stint, the latter proving his post-Saved by the Bell acting chops in the final four seasons), but there was an implicit understanding that Sipowicz was the show.
In terms of personal struggles, Andy endured a seemingly endless litany of suffering usually reserved for Biblical or Shakespearean figures. He lost his child. He lost his wife. He lost his partner. Then he lost his next partner. Then he lost his next partner. Yeah, it’s a lot. But he emerged at the end of it as a revered mentor for the detectives in his beloved 15th precinct, becoming the squad’s commander in the final episode. By then NYPD Blue had long since cemented its place as one of the most important dramas in the history of the medium.
The Legacy of Andy Sipowicz
We’re now 30 years away from NYPD Blue’s controversial premiere, when most of the talk centered around whose butts were exposed and for how long (and yes, Sipowicz got a few nude scenes too). In that time, cop shows have come and gone (Homicide, which debuted earlier in the same year as NYPD is rightly revered for being just as groundbreaking), some have never gone (Law & Order: Special Victims Unit), and some have gone and come back (the original Law & Order).
Police procedurals have rightly received a harsh spotlight in recent years after incidents of police brutality such as the George Floyd case made many question the role of “copaganda” on television. There are plenty of instances throughout the run where Sipowicz and other detectives “tune up” suspects in the interrogation room. At one point, Sipowicz grimly explains to Medavoy that he only hits perps he “knows” are guilty. That was uncomfortable to watch back then, and remains so today.
To its credit, NYPD went out of its way to depict its lead detectives –– foremost among them the deeply flawed Sipowicz –– as honorable, decent people who wanted to do the right thing, as opposed to the openly corrupt cops like Michael Chiklis’ Vic Mackey in FX’s The Shield. Of course, “tuning up” suspects still rides a gray area of ethics and morality that we should rightly be concerned with in the real world, and there is a very relevant discussion to be had about the collective cultural impact of such depictions.
Steven Bochco passed away in 2018, and while he never again had a zeitgeisty hit, between NYPD Blue, Hill Street Blues, and L.A. Law, his legacy as one of the most influential TV producers of all time was secure. David Milch went on to create Deadwood for HBO. Meanwhile, Dennis Franz knew he’d never find another role as rich and meaningful as Sipowicz, and decided to call it a career. Can you blame him? While NYPD Blue has gradually faded from the forefront of pop culture, the subsequent decades have done nothing to dim the intensity of what it achieved during its time as one of TV’s biggest hits.
Thirty years after its debut and long, long past the media tut-tutting about nudity and naughty words, what remains is one of the most impactful series of all time: a 261-episode achievement that expanded the boundaries of what could be done in terms of storytelling and character construction, whether on network television or cable. From The Sopranos to The Shield to Breaking Bad –– all revolutionary shows built around compelling, complicated leads –– it’s fair to say none would have been able to blaze their respective trails without first using the on-ramp offered by NYPD Blue and Andy Sipowicz.
