Superficially, America's Castle does little to differentiate itself from its peers. The premise - mystery novelist Richard Castle (Nathan Fillon) ingratiates himself with an NYPD police department in a quest for inspiration; inadvertently discovering both a knack and desire for solving crimes alongside muse Detective Kate Beckett (Stana Katic) - seems almost custom-fit to crime television tropes. The set-up allows will-they/won't-they sexual tension (see: Bones), quirky genius crime-solving (see: Lie to Me) and a case-by-case narrative structure (see: everything).
In short, it ticks all of the boxes for generic television. Yet, it's arguably one of the most well-crafted detective programmes I've encountered to date - and, as we've covered, I've seen more than a handful. I often think of television in terms of a hierarchy of engagement. There are shows that require little-to-no engagement to enjoy and there are shows that require absolute engagement. I think of it as a spectrum spanning from Lorre's Two and a Half Men to Zelman & Kessler's Damages (for better or worse, television at its most complex). Typically, I prefer television programmes around upper-mid-range; challenging but not demanding. Community, for example.
Castle doesn't sit comfortably within that spectrum. It's an intriguing exception. In many ways, it's trash television. Not just narratively, either. Creator Andrew Marlowe has a flair for histrionic dialogue and seems to delight in bathing his show in obsequious lighting arrangements - silhouettes, backlighting, moody sepia tones. Something oddly Baz Luhrmann about it all. Even Castle's music seems sleazy and predictable. That said, Marlowe also has a pronounced knack for manipulating his own conventions. Castle may appear thoroughly generic - and, often, it can be - but it's also remarkably subversive. Frequently brilliantly so.
It's rare for a crime procedural to deviate too heavily from an Agatha Christie/Law & Order method - a body is spontaneously discovered by a stranger, approximately six suspects are interviewed and a murderer is caught. Typically, said murderer will be spoken to second (unless a guest star is involved; guest stars are never innocent). Marlowe, however, delights in subverting such models. A recent episode provides a stellar example. A series of women had been killed and, in due course, a suspect is found to have been blackmailing each victim mere weeks before their death. True to form, said suspect is our second port-of-call in investigation. So far, so typical.
In time, it's revealed that our suspect is actually innocent of murder. The guilty party? Our third victim - whom our heroes had narrowly 'saved' from poisoning. Of course, such novelty twists aren't unheard of within the mystery genre. The aforementioned Sherlock thrives on unconventional crimes and BBC's Jonathan Creek frequently employed such twists (a particularly gruesome episode revealing a supposed sex tape as actually documenting a woman's death). Such programs usually define themselves through unusual cases, though. Castle is a standard procedural which nevertheless consistently employs complex shifts and twists without compromising its own trashy aesthetic.
Upon closer inspection, it actually reveals itself as a product of astonishing precision. Typically, we presume a show is trashy because writers are either incompetent or unmotivated. Castle appears to be whatever its creator desires it to be - when he's of a mind, Marlowe can craft an exceptionally plotted long-form season arc. There are episodes where he's concocted believable explanations as to why our two main characters would be saving the world. Just as easily, he can conjure up a series of hilarious familial misunderstandings or romantic entanglements. It's just so often done so casually and gracefully that viewers tend to miss the craft.
The key seems to be Marlowe's own love of television. He doesn't seem intent so much on destroying or reinventing detective tropes as enriching them. He reminds me of Community's Dan Harmon in that sense. Community has broken every rule television has ever had - but, at its heart, it's never sought to be anything other than a love letter to classic sitcoms like M*A*S*H or Cheers. Castle fulfils a similar function with crime procedurals. It lovingly recreates each genre convention and archetype even as it subtly reinvents them altogether. The ever-evolving relationship between Richard Castle and Kate Beckett is a prime example.
The will-they/won't-they is a staple not just of detective shows but of television shows. Ross and Rachel, JD and Elliot, Bones and Booth. In almost every instance, it's eventually used as a cynical hook to keep viewers latched on beyond a production's actual golden years. At one point, I would have described Beckett and Castle's relationship in exactly those terms - but Marlowe has crafted that relationship so beautifully over the past four seasons that it's actually transcended its origins as a hook. Recent episodes make the characters' affection for each other abundantly clear. It's simply a case of characters figuring out mechanics within a complex relationship. It's been a truly masterful piece of storytelling.
This is why Castle confounds my little hierarchy of engagement. It works as relatively immediate fluff. I doubt Marlowe has any ambitions beyond it working as such fluff, either - but, through deft subversion of expectations and simple craftsmanship, he's actually imbued his work with remarkable substance. Again, it reminds me of Harmon's work with Community. Harmon once compared his show to pizza. "We don't make, you know, foie gras or whatever," he says in a DVD commentary (though I am paraphrasing). "But we'll always give you a good, solid slice of pizza." Castle is a remarkably solid slice of pizza. Much, much better than you'd expect.
(I do hope they don't stretch it out after a fifth season, though. I can't imagine that working well at all.)
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