Showtime joins the mob scene

If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
In Showtime’s latest attempt to be competitive with HBO, we get … a mob show.
One in which a character suffers depression and is urged to seek therapy. One in which the lead mobster has a strong-willed mother. One in which a hitman attends AA meetings.
But in fairness to “Brotherhood,” which premieres tonight, a lot of the similarities are superficial at best (the depressed character never actually sees a shrink).
And to some “Sopranos” fans, the ways in which “Brotherhood” does resemble their favorite show – or at least their perception of it – may earn the newcomer some goodwill.
Shot in and around Providence, R.I., with the same affection and sense of place that the Essex County, N.J., locations give to the adventures of Tony and Paulie Walnuts, “Brotherhood” deals with the Caffee brothers: one good, one bad.
Jason Clarke is the good one, Tommy, an up-and-comer in the state legislature nicknamed “The Prince of the Hill” for his fierce protection of the Irish-American enclave in which he grew up.
Jason Isaacs is the bad one, Mike, a gangster nicknamed “Three-Part Mike” because, as cop – and family friend – Declan Giggs (Ethan Embry) explains, he fancies himself “judge, jury and executioner” for people who make him mad.
All is not entirely as it seems, of course. We’re introduced to Tommy as he cuts a backroom deal with a fellow politician, minutes before he gives a speech declaring the days of such deals are long over. He’s so zealous in defending his district and advancing his career that a political rival describes him as “one part charmer and four parts thug.”
And though he, wife Eileen (Annabeth Gish) and their three daughters are profiled in the local paper as a perfect nuclear family, Eileen is so bored with being a stay-at-home politican’s wife that she cheats on Tommy and dabbles in drugs.
Mike, meanwhile, returns from a seven-year exile from Providence prepared to reclaim his turf by any means necessary – most of them creatively violent – but he cares about the neighborhood almost as much as Tommy.
He seizes control of a local liquor store, both to use as his new headquarters and because he feels the owner was price-gouging the local senior citizens who are too poor and frail to buy groceries anyplace else. He also dispenses the occasional bit of vigilante justice and tries to support alcoholic sidekick Pete (Stivi Paskoski) in his attempt to stay on the wagon.
There are echoes of not only “The Sopranos,” but the “Godfather” films and every story of rival brothers dating all the way back to Cain and Abel – and to the true story of James “Whitey” Bulger, a notorious Boston gangster whose brother William was once the head of the state Senate.
But if you’re of the school of thought that there are only a half-dozen or so basic stories out there and what matters most is the execution, then “Brotherhood” does a strong job of transcending its familiar roots.
The excellent performances are led by Clarke, a relative unknown from Australia. Tommy always seems to be doing a mental calculus about what will most benefit both himself and his district, and Clarke makes the sight of a character just thinking into riveting viewing.
British actor Isaacs gives the showier, more physical performance – one of the first things Mike does upon returning is to cut a rival’s ear off – and he’s perfectly at home as a leg-breaker with occasional bouts of enlightenment.
Gish, Embry and Fionnula Flanagan – as the boys’ mother, Rose – also provide fine supporting turns. And Paskoski is superb as bushy-haired Pete, whose happiness at Mike’s return is tempered by the dawning realization that he can’t stay a criminal and stay sober.
Rose is a tough cookie, but she’s no Livia Soprano. For one thing, her family enjoys spending time with her; for another, she works on her appearance.
But she does have Livia’s sheer force of will. In an early scene, Rose tries to spend a $50 bill Mike gave her, and when the cashier explains that the note is counterfeit, she cows him into not only accepting it, but giving her exact change in real currency.
Outside of a few isolated moments like the counterfeit bills scene, “Brotherhood” is a fairly somber affair. It also suffers from awkward pacing; as each brother attempts to conquer Providence on his own terms, the plot advances every week, but so gradually that the writers have to suddenly cram a lot of big events into the last three episodes – probably more than each hour can hold.
But then, that’s a complaint you can make about virtually every “Sopranos” season – and if “Brotherhood” can’t remind viewers of its Jersey counterparts in some ways, what chance of success does it have?