When Mr. Smith went to Washington, James Stewart electrified the populace. When Mr. Sterling arrives in the capital, the novice senator stuns the nation and baffles colleagues in "the most exclusive club in the world." His surprise, appropriated from recent Senate history, is a good one with dramatic potential. 

But William Sterling Jr. (Josh Brolin) can't pull a shocker every week, and he's rather a stolid hunk to carry a show. The middling NBC drama "Mister Sterling," which debuts Friday, saves an unfortunate revelation and pat psychology for episode two. Sterling pouts like a bratty child about Daddy, a popular former California governor. 

Suggestion for sonny: Get over it. 

Dad, as colorfully played by James Whitmore, is so wise, likable and fun that he should be in the Senate. Television demographics prevent Whitmore, who is 81, from being there, but he energizes the series every time he appears. 

To its credit, "Mister Sterling" provides realistic glimpses of Washington's inner workings. They come from Lawrence O'Donnell Jr., MSNBC's senior political analyst, who created the show. 

The series plays like a simplified "West Wing" and fields fewer regular characters than the Emmy-winning drama. Those qualities should be assets, considering the way Martin Sheen's White House has dipped this season. 

But most characters in "Mister Sterling" lack punch and depth. They're there to marvel at young Sterling, a prison teacher and former prosecutor boosted to prominence because of his father's name. 

Legislative director Tommy Doyle (William Russ) whines a lot about Sterling before caving in to his charm. Head of data Leon (David Norona) reports on the new senator's awesome poll numbers back at home. Chief of staff Jackie Brock (Audra McDonald) guides the unpredictable Sterling. "It's going to be a wild ride," she says. It would be a lot more fun if the show visited a piano bar so McDonald, one of Broadway's finest singers, could warble a tune or two. 

The guest senators, played by such savvy veterans as Gerald McRaney, Graham Greene and Harris Yulin ("24"), give the show some flavor. 

The spiciest moments belong to Whitmore. His portrayal of a loving father is marvelous, although Brolin's son doesn't inspire deep feelings. His Sterling is a smug operator in a self-important world. Maybe "Mister Sterling" is closer to a reality show than it is to drama. 

January 3, 2003

By Ed Bark 
The Dallas Morning News 

"The West Wing" is getting a junior partner about a freshman senator who might as well be named Mr. Smith. Instead he's the title character in "Mister Sterling," the saga of a young California idealist who reluctantly goes to Washington in hopes of actually helping people. What a laugh? But this isn't a sitcom.

Created by MSNBC senior political analyst Lawrence O'Donnell Jr., "Mister Sterling" gets the 8 p.m. Friday slot that used to accommodate the gooey goings-on in "Providence." 

Overtly earnest instead of gratingly sappy, it might be miscast under any circumstances. Its inside politics are a page out of "West Wing," but the writing, pacing and characters aren't yet jumping off the page. Solid but sometimes a little stolid, "Mister Sterling" has promise on its side. Does it have enough oomph, though, to keep audiences interested if not enthralled? Probably not. Josh Brolin, son of TV vet James Brolin, capably plays the center-ring role of William Sterling Jr.

Resolutely dedicated to the common good, he's first seen teaching a high school equivalency class in prison.

Meanwhile, a scandal-ridden senator named Al Bailey has succumbed to a heart attack, leaving a void to be filled by the California governor (guest star Bob Gunton).

"We've gotta find Mr. Clean," he says. Not because he particularly wants to, but to keep his own career from cratering.

Young William fits the description and also has name recognition that money can't buy. He's the son of ex-California governor Bill Sterling Sr. (James Whitmore), who predictably didn't spend enough time with his kid while he clawed his way to the top. "I don't like clubs, pop. I don't like politics," junior tells his not-so-dear old Dad.

"You want to know if you take this job, will you turn out like me?" the old man retorts. "There's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Say no more. Our hero is next seen trying to eat a meal in an upscale D.C. restaurant that Frank Capra's Mr. Smith never would have broken bread in. He's quickly besieged by vulturous lobbyists, one of whom informs him, "I represent everyone worth representing and know everyone -- except for you."

Duly repulsed, Sterling next meets his inherited staff. Principal among them is ringwise but compassionate Jackie Brock (Broadway's Audra McDonald), whose press secretary duties were a living hell under the old regime. There's also dedicated Democrat Tommy Doyle (William Russ) and research specialist Leon Montero (David Norona), who craves both attention and respect.

Friday's opening hour also introduces political reporter Laura Chandler (Chandra West), who of course is stunningly beautiful. She's tricky, too, getting Sterling to tell her that he's not a Democrat. This lands her on "Hardball," with MSNBC's braying Chris Matthews contributing a cameo that again reminds everyone how utterly tiresome he's become. Senate powerbrokers soon are on the prowl, offering Sterling whatever it might take to firmly declare a party allegiance.

"It's going to be a wild ride," says Jackie, who's been promoted to chief of staff.

A second episode sent for preview immerses Sterling in a labored controversy over whether he's ever used illegal drugs. He also meets a veteran Native American senator (Graham Greene) who relaxes by toking on a peace pipe in his office.

The episode also expands on the relationship between the show's two leads.

"I have never done an illegal drug," young Sterling insists.

"Well, you certainly can't say that," says the more pragmatic Jackie, who should further bloom and grow with McDonald at the character's controls. She's won three Tony Awards, and it shows.

Whitmore, 81 but still strong of heart, likewise brings vigor and presence to his role as the senior Sterling. In Episode 2, he flies to Washington in hopes of coaching his son in the art of winning friends and sandbagging people. But Junior rebukes his advice to tell the press, "I love my father, but I'm my own man."

The old man then thunders, "You don't have to mean it! You just have to say it!"

Hate to say it, but this looks like a worthwhile, generally well-executed drama that likely won't win re-election at the end of this season. More derivative than dynamic, "Mister Sterling" is nice to have around but just doesn't feel very special. It's going to be tough to get out the vote.

January 9, 2003

By Tom Jicha 
South Florida Sun-Sentinel

Politics was long considered a turnoff as a premise for prime-time drama. Then "The West Wing" came along. NBC's "Mister Sterling" is likely to re-establish that while there might be an exception to every rule, there often is only one. It's a lesson CBS learned with "Citizen Baines," the first attempt to mine a similar vein as "The West Wing."

With its aura of Camelot, "The West Wing" arrived at an ideal moment in history, when a nation had grown weary of tawdry shenanigans in the White House.

"Mister Sterling" is the wrong show in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is probably not coincidental that with a president with high approval ratings, the popularity of "The West Wing" has begun to wane. (It's too demoralizing to think "The West Wing's" Nielsen decline is solely a result of "The Bachelor," although this is undoubtedly a factor.)

"Mister Sterling" doesn't approach the quality of writing or performances of "The West Wing" and its set-up is the antithesis of the Wednesday night hit. If the Bartlet administration represents a government of ideals and morals, the Washington into which Bill Sterling Jr. is catapulted is a jaded den of backroom wheeling and dealing, where public policy is up for sale to the highest bidder. It's everything cynics suspect of Washington.

Josh Brolin plays the title role, the son of a former California governor who was the most popular in the state's history. When the incumbent senator drops dead in the midst of several probes into his ethics and fund-raising, the current governor looks for a Mr. Clean to serve the remainder of the term. Bill Sterling Jr. makes Jed Bartlet look like Richard Nixon. A Yale graduate and former public servant, Sterling has shunned politics to work in a prison helping inmates earn high-school diplomas. He doesn't drink, he never smoked (legal or illegal) and he has a magical surname.

Amazingly, nobody has the foresight to ask his party affiliation. It is just assumed he's a Democrat like his father. This creates a maelstrom when Mister Sterling goes to Washington.

Borrowing a scenario from the recent past, the Senate is evenly divided between the two parties. Movement of even one seat can create a new leadership. Sterling, the only person in Washington who doesn't know he's a Democrat, puts himself into play with the announcement that he is an independent. Leadership from both sides of the aisle aggressively courts him, offering handsome perks and privileges. Sterling quickly demonstrates that while he hasn't practiced, he knows how to play the game.

Brolin has a comfortable handle on the role of the handsome, earnest goody-goody, whom politicians covet for their party but nobody would want at an after-hours party.

Audra McDonald complements him well as Jackie Brock, the press secretary for the late senator. Recognizing that she is a quality person in a tainted environment, Sterling's first act is to fire her. His second is to rehire her as his chief of staff.

William Russ is less prominent as Tommy Doyle, a fiercely partisan legislative director. The full-time cast also includes David Norona as the senator's pollster and cyber adviser, and old pro James Whitmore as Mister Sterling Sr., who urges his son to be his own man while constantly advising him on the best way to do that.

"Mister Sterling's" prospects are not enhanced by being assigned the "Providence" time slot, where a reservoir of ill will lingers over the premature cancellation (which NBC says might be rescinded). Moreover, "Mister Sterling" is not geared toward the same audience. Female romantics are rarely political junkies. Leading off Friday night, an hour where soft dramas and comedies have enjoyed the greatest success, is also a dubious scheduling strategy. But it's the only hour NBC has available without upsetting established viewing patterns.

All things considered, "Mister Sterling" has as much chance of winning over the audience as Trent Lott did on BET. 

January 9, 2003

By Frazier Moore 
The Associated Press 

NEW YORK -- The public-spirited but private son of a former California governor, Bill Sterling Jr. has suddenly been thrust into the spotlight. Not that he sought his new title -- U.S. senator -- or wanted it. Or even grasps its full meaning. "Do you know what you're doing here?" Sterling's chief of staff asks once he's sworn into office. "Or is this just some crazy roller-coaster ride to nowhere that's gonna make us all look like idiots?" 

The answer may lie somewhere in between. 

On NBC's exuberant new drama, "Mister Sterling," the better question might be: Can a Boy Scout with a maverick streak stay true to himself on Capitol Hill? 

Here's the background: California's scandal-beset senior senator has died unexpectedly. His successor will be hand-picked by the Democratic governor, who wants a problem-free fill-in until the election two years away. A perfect placeholder: The son and namesake of beloved ex-Gov. William Sterling who, played by Josh Brolin, has a squeaky-clean past and no political ambitions. 

Even so, Bill Jr. turns out to be full of surprises — this, despite having been warned by Senate bigwigs never to surprise them. 

For one thing -- surprise! -- he isn't a Democrat, despite his Democratic breeding. But no one thought to check. "It's never mattered before," Sterling says of his Independent label, "and I didn't think it would matter here." 

It does, especially in a Senate closely split between Democrats and Republicans. And in a flash, this freshman senator -- who is nothing if not a quick study -- leverages his non-committed status into plum committee assignments from the Democrats, simply by declaring his support for that party's leadership. 

Just as impressive, by the end of the second episode, he has stilled yapping reporters who accuse him (however validly) of vaulting to power on the strength of his father's name. Sen. Sterling shuts them up with nine words: "I love my father. But I'm my own man." 

This remedial sound bite was furnished, unsolicited, by his father. Magnificently played by 81-year-old James Whitmore, the old man realizes Bill is an embittered politician's kid. This accounts for his lifelong aversion to the family business. (When approached to become senator, he's running a program for penitentiary inmates to get their GED.) 

He's a man whose youthful rebellion meant refraining from any misdeeds his father would have had to fix or forgive. So when the press wants to know if he ever used drugs, Sterling confides to his staff that, out of defiance as well as principle, he never has. (Yet another surprise!) Then he declares the whole issue off-limits to reporters: None of your business, he pleasantly informs them. 

As Sterling, Brolin is a winning choice, portraying the senator as a man of wit, charm and -- after his formative years spent under a microscope -- chronic self-control. 

But while his disarming, slightly self-embarrassed grin is dazzling, Bill Sterling is more than a pretty face. In his understated way, he just might be as wily as the seasoned pols he'll butt heads against. His immediate challenge: To learn the rules of this game, then decide how many deserve to be broken. 

Assisting him are his key staff members: chief of staff Jackie Brock (Audra McDonald); legislative director and Beltway insider Tommy Doyle (William Russ); and gung-ho numbers-cruncher Leon Montero (David Norona). 

With this team poised for battle, "Mister Sterling" boasts the bracing, big-hearted rush of "The West Wing." No wonder. It was created by Lawrence O'Donnell, a former writer-producer for that White House series (not to mention a real-life former Beltway politico and an on-air analyst for MSNBC). 

But more divides these series than the few blocks between the White House and Capitol Hill. In President Bartlet's fictional world, the Democratic Party is in charge. But in the parallel universe of "Mister Sterling," neither party dominates, nor does much to separate itself from its opposition. 

Whatever his Democratic sympathies, the independent Sen. Sterling takes office as a rock-ribbed contrarian, ready to righteously clash with all comers. And he can afford to. Unlike his 99 colleagues in the Senate, he hasn't compromised himself to get there. What does he have to lose? Maybe he can do some good without selling out now.

January 9, 2003