The Deuce

Terrible cast. Terrible acting. Terrible script. The only thing good about this junk series is the backdrop of the old 42nd Street between Broadway and 8th Avenue, which was a wonderfully energized, honky-tonk place to go at any time between noon and six AM -- and the sex aspect being pushed was in no way as prominent as the series is making it seem. There usually was a hooker or two, typically tired-looking junkies, strolling mainly on Eighth Avenue, but the main attraction for me and lots of others was the movies that lined both sides of the block.

Forty-Second Street during the pre and early tv era was a movie-lovers candy store. With a dozen theaters, each showing two movies and some showing three, and with the average ticket price from fifty cents to a dollar, the only difficulty was deciding which of so many really good movies one wanted to see.

So I watch The Deuce because it's there, but I really wouldn't care if I never see another episode.

I will say I'm surprised to see how unattractive Maggie Gillenhall really is without a lot of makeup and artful photography.
 

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