Referring to Terry Crews as a blueprint for modern masculinity is a short path to self-hatred. He is a sharp dresser. He is good looking. He is so muscular that his muscles apparently have their own muscles. To offend the injury is also funny! He is almost indefinite, which enhances his attractiveness as a role model for masculinity. Crews does not have to connect with fart jokes but he does anyway because he .
. But the most important part of Crews' Persona is its vulnerability Delicate quality so many people blanch in public. It is his openness and not his body. This is central to his performance as Sergeant Terry Jeffords on Brooklyn Nine-Nine (1
That is not weak. That is admirable. Jeffords makes the 9-9 a better place by saying the simple truth in "Honeymoon," the season opener: being the boss is not easy. "Honeymoon" sees the sarge kick-off with a happy self-assurance that Holt uses during his break. He is the Top Dog Terry! He solves problems! He gets the job done ! He does not spend too much time thinking about his decision-making abilities, except when Rosa Diaz questions his decision about her cross-departmental puzzles and his bravery. Suddenly he digs through Holt's office and desperately searches for all the advice he can find to give him the confidence he needs to be effective.
Trust is at the heart of "Honeymoon" and this year's episode "Hitchcock and Scully." In "Honeymoon", Holt learns that he has not gotten the job as Commissioner and, what is worse, as an old, insignificant, bigot white . I In "Hitchcock and Scully," we learn that in the '80s, the most sloppy detectives of the 9-9 investigators were industrious hotshot cops, who dropped an underground drug spill in the opening sequence. And of course there is Terry in "Honeymoon", who leads with a seductive smile, but is plagued by self-doubt. No bark can cover up his insecurity. The man is rattled just like Holt.
Since trust is key to how men relate to their masculinity-in the sense that men define their masculinity on the basis of what others see-we find the boys of Brooklyn Nine-Nine (19459003), who try to keep their grip on their masculinity. Holt looks like Eeyore raging over Posadita Bonita while Jake and Amy do their damn best to enjoy their honeymoon. Terry loses his nerves very fast, very shatters Holt's laptop and lets himself be punked by Gina, the most beloved rascal of all. And Scully and Hitchcock are Scully and Hitchcock, which means that little can disturb them or shake their spirits. They are eternal optimists until they are accused of being filthy dirty. (Literally dirty they can accept.) Hell, they hug each other.)
At the edge of "Honeymoon" and "Hitchcock and Scully," Jake and Boyle dodge the ball. None of them has to reckon with his masculinity. In "Honeymoon" Jake tries to be a good friend of Holt while making the best of Mexico with Amy. Boyle does Boyle stuff to make Gina confess her role in her parents' sudden divorce. In "Hitchcock and Scully," Jake admits he is too suspicious of others, while Boyle admits he is not enough .
These are everyday problems. They can not be distinguished from Jake or Boyle's bleak identity. Holt, Terry and even Hitchcock and Scully face another dilemma. Brooklyn Nine-Nine wonders who they are as bulls and as men. In "Hitchcock and Scully", this question is couched in a recurring joke: Jake and Boyle, who look at the photos of the two most well-known lay people in their younger days, agree that their colleagues used to be totally smokeshows (especially Hitchcock) and I can not deal with the minds as the duo of chiseled gods became human slag heaps held together by wing sauce. "We can not know some things," Scully says in a rare moment. We will finally find out. (Note: It's the wing sauce.)
For Holt, the masculinity question covers both episodes: pique and general lamentation in "Honeymoon," overcompensating for his "dizziness" in "Hitchcock and Scully" before he stabilizes the Rock of the Rock 9-9 again. (And as Jake's deputy father, and Amy's assistant father, it's complicated and funny too.)
Terry's all about "honeymoon." This is not the first Brooklyn Nine-Nine episode in which Terry has reckoned with his personal concerns; this is an integral part of his bow right up to the beginning of the series. The danger of policing and his natural excitability made Terry come to his desk, but his fear of leaving his daughters without a father kept him there. Annoying and disturbing is Terry's DNA. It is what he does.
We do not think of that when we think of strong men, but it should be like this: He's good enough to lead the 9-9 because he's Terry Jeffords . After all, like Holt, Hitchcock, and Scully, it's the strength of character that pulls Terry out of the funk, not the power of the arms. You do not have to be a pro linebacker to build that kind of muscle.