In the first ever episode of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit (SVU), which aired in September 1999, two detectives from the New York Police Department’s 16th precinct’s sex crimes division are called to what appears to be a run-of-the-mill murder. That is until a uniform cop reveals the victim has had his genitals “sliced off”.
What unfolds is a complicated, surprising and nuanced story about revenge, trauma and war crimes. It’s a fitting start to a series that, in its 23 seasons, has sought to explore every shade of grey in the reporting, investigating and prosecution of sex crimes in New York City.
In the show’s famous opening monologue, a monotonous voice announces that in the criminal justice system, “sexually based offences are considered especially heinous”. But heinous doesn’t go far enough to describe the crimes the show interrogates: child molestation, rape, domestic violence and sex trafficking are stalwart subjects. It’s interesting in a post-#MeToo world where calls to defund the police are still echoing across America, that a pro-police procedural about sexual violence is not only still on our screens, it’s the longest-running American prime-time live-action series in the history of television. There are currently 516 episodes (or more than 352 viewing hours available to watch), making it perfectly bingeable. And it’s not done yet: its 24th season will premiere in late September.
What is most surprising about SVU though, is that a show about violent sexual crimes is somehow comforting. It’s a strange paradox, that for more than two decades, millions of people have tuned in every week to watch a drama about humans at their most depraved. And it’s not just the true-crime obsessives who count themselves as fans. SVU has mainstream popularity. But why?
Like all procedurals, it follows a reliable formula. Each episode begins with violence, where the viewer is shown either the beginning of the crime (a woman is kidnapped, a woman is pushed into a dark alley by a masked stranger, a child is taken) or the aftermath (a burned body is discovered, a bloody body is discovered, a woman runs into the street, a child is discovered abandoned). What happens next rarely strays from its usual pattern: investigation, arrest, interrogation, plot twist, investigation, interrogation, prosecution.
However, despite the violent nature of the crimes it investigates, the violence on SVU is rarely gratuitous. In the SVU universe, violence is bad and, in most cases, the people who commit it are the bad guys. Aside from a few episodes that have strayed from the formula, with SVU you always know what you’re going to get. There’s comfort in the familiar, in the reliable.
SVU’s supporting cast doesn’t, upon first glance, explain its popularity. There are no obvious hunks or heart-throbs. But early on, John Munch, played by Richard Belzer and his partner Odafin Tutuola played, much to everyone’s surprise, by rapper Ice-T, brought some much-needed comic relief and became fast fan favourites. While Belzer left the show in 2016, Ice-T’s now a sergeant and one of few people of colour who has lasted more than a few seasons (Tamara Tunie as medical examiner Melinda Warner and BD Wong as forensic psychiatrist George Huang are other notable exceptions).
There’s been a rotating cast of captains, lawyers and associate and district attorneys too. Some beloved, others tolerated. Then there’s its famous guest stars, from Alec Baldwin to Serena Williams.
However, fans are quick to claim Olivia Benson as their number one reason for watching. Mariska Hargitay was 35 when she started on SVU as Detective Benson 23 years ago. From episode one, it’s clear she’s the department’s conscience. Half her time in the early seasons is spent correcting the colourful, offensive language of fellow officers and demanding respect for the victims.
For SVU’s first 12 seasons, Hargitay starred opposite Christopher Meloni’s Elliot Stabler, a more experienced and reckless detective, and the pair share an undeniable chemistry. After all, what’s a prime-time show without a will-they-won’t-they dynamic? And while they haven’t, yet, Meloni came back in season 23 as Stabler to star in Law & Order: Organized Crime, allowing the two to join forces and reignite that Bunsen burner in a number of crossover episodes.
Hargitay in real life has become a rape crisis counsellor, started her own nonprofit organisation to support survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault, and after learning about the number of untested rape testing kits in America, lobbied to help end the backlog.
From its inception, SVU has borrowed stories from the headlines. High-profile cases such as the Brett Kavanaugh sexual assault allegations, Harvey Weinstein’s sexual abuse cases and the Jeffrey Epstein story have had a few names and details changed but are easily recognisable. But the difference between the media coverage of these cases and the fictionalised portrayals of them is that in the SVU universe, the victims are humanised, the often-lifelong impacts of the assaults are explored. Not only has it lasted 23 seasons, it’s become more progressive with each one.
Of course SVU’s representation of the justice system is imperfect, the details often inaccurate – it is, after all, written for entertainment. But SVU takes sex crimes seriously and seeks justice for its fictional victims. And while, much like real life where sex crimes are notoriously hard to prosecute and the verdicts don’t always go the victim’s way, perhaps the attraction to SVU is the catharsis in feeling that at least someone’s fighting in the victim’s corner.
It’s thought true crime dramas are so popular because they play out our deepest anxieties. If that’s the case, perhaps the real comfort in a show like SVU is that it offers the hope there might be someone there to fight for us if they ever come true.
Law & Order: Special Victims Unit is streaming on Amazon Prime, Binge and Foxtel in Australia.
Victoria Hannan’s new book Marshmallow is out now through Hachette.
