newyorker.com
FOX is a broadcast network most known for canceling shows faster than you can say, “previously on…” However, it seems to have found a hit in Empire, a ratings magnet that centers on a multi million dollar record company and the CEO’s internal family drama. It is a mix of Shakespeare’s King Lear, The Godfather, Dallas–as referenced by the creators–and the kitchen sink.
Terrence Howard’s role, patriarch Lucious Lyon, is both the CEO and the president of Empire Entertainment. At the start of the pilot, he is diagnosed with A.L.S; thus, kickstarting the search for a formidable heir in his stead.
He has a total of three options on the board: the eldest, Andre, who is more business minded than hip-hop,the middle son, Jamal, who is homosexual and therefore unqualified, and their youngest sibling, Hakeem, who is an outspoken hot head and the strongest contender.
Lucious is a reformed thug and that often bleeds through into his demeanor and has trouble handling delicate situations. He’s a killer, a sneak, and a million other things in between, but he never misses an opportunity to throw shade at his middle child.
Created by Danny Strong and Lee Daniels (The Butler, Precious), the interactions between Lucious and his third born seem to echo Daniels’ volatile relationship with his own father. There is a sliver of him in each of his sons but the comparisons seem least likely to be piled against Jamal–and yet they are.
This is the same son that Lucious threw in the trash as a child for putting on a mini drag show in his mother’s heels and scarf in front of company, and who he continuously discounts. As an artist and as a son, he does not line up to his father’s expectations. Lucious mistakenly treats his son’s sexual preference like a handicap, believing he has neither the drive or the image to run the company.
As the boy’s mother stated in one of the best episodes so far, “he is like his father…but with a heart,”.
Jamal often vacillates between wanting to break into the industry, and wanting to come out as his mother, Cookie, advises. However, Lucious would like to keep him packed neatly in the closet both musically, and in regards to his sexuality. After his father threatens to take back everything he paid for, including Jamal’s home, his son vows to come after his father’s empire.
Fresh out of prison, Taraji P. Henson’s much disrespected character, whose drug money and sacrifice started the company (and don’t you forget it), has a number of Cookie-isms (which, by design, are the best lines on the show).
My favorite characters are Jamal and his mom-ager Cookie with their fresh mother/son dynamic. It is far more interesting than Andre’s henchman antics, or Lucius’ scheming and favoritism of Hakeem, who can’t seem to create a decent track without Jamal’s input.
Everyone in the show has some stake to claim whether it be on a position within the company, a ridiculous sum of money or on an artist.
“It’s not just a black story…money and greed will destroy anyone,” said Henson of the pseudo-musical series. Featuring a revolving door of talent, it is one of the network’s highest rate dramas at 4.3 million viewers and climbing, foreseeably, each week.
Zhana Johnson
Senior Features Editor