The (sort of) triumphant return of Patrick Swayze

It’s easy to forget about Patrick Swayze.

The actor, best known for his roles in seminal films from the late ’80s and early ’90s like Dirty Dancing and Roadhouse, fell off the fame wagon around the time feathered hair was replaced by flannel as the in vogue fashion statement.

But now he has cancer, which, oddly enough, seems to have netted him a career revival of sorts, with a starring role in the new A&E crime drama The Beast and book deal for his memoirs. Does anyone care? I don’t. Second-rate actors die all the time.

It’s like the world finally realized that Patrick Swayze is going to kick the bucket, and decided, hey, let’s wring a few more dollars out of him. Such is the life of a celebrity. What’s surprising is that this new show is actually pretty damned good.

On first glance, The Beast is just another ringer in the basic-cable-cop-show grinder, like The Shield or the dozens of other programs exactly like it. Gritty, intense, morally ambiguous, this is definitely not treading new ground when it comes to police procedurals. Still, the quality acting makes up for the idea-vacant plot line.

Swayze plays Charles Barker, a veteran undercover FBI agent who many at the bureau describe as a “loose cannon.” He’s not afraid to go against protocol or break the rules, and he has bit of violent streak, not to mention a dark, mysterious past.

To his right is new recruit Ellis Dove (Travis Fimmel) a young agent who desperately wants the attention and respect of his new partner. Through the first four episodes Ellis is continuously embarrassed by his inexperience and seeming naiveté, though he eventually catches on. Like any show about undercover operatives, he also struggles with balancing his personal life with his job.

Eventually the internal affairs unit of the FBI contacts Ellis. They think Barker is dirty, and want his help investigating his partner. All of this makes The Beast feel like the TV show version of Training Day, which highlights the clichés of the show even more.

But, perhaps because of the cancer, Swayze plays his menacing, confusing character perfectly. His gaunt, piercing eyes and sickly gait imbue something odd into this role, something that I kind of like.

Maybe he realizes this will be his last performance, the one thing he can finish before he dies, so he’s trying extra hard. Whatever it is, it’s working, because the Swayze is engrossing.

Fimmel, who looks something like a young Brad Pitt, ain’t quite as hot. But he fills his role admirably as the confused pretty boy, and works fine as a foil for Swayze’s boiling ‘tude.

The supporting cast is also strong, featuring quality actors, whose faces you’ll recognize from productions like The Wire and There Will Be Blood (that’s some pedigree, isn’t it?).

The show’s writing is also lightning quick and traditional, with enough creative subplots and scenes to carry it past the routine subject matter. There are even some subtly funny moments.

For instance: A 9/11 truther smoking meth in a trailer; Swayze with a missile launcher, and, awesomely, a smoothie made of disease-infected blood and shattered glass held up over a baddie’s mouth. Scary, sure, but hilarious. (Note to self: Never drink Swayze’s smoothies.)

So, to all the celebrities with failing careers, here’s your takeaway: Get cancer, then play a scary role as a criminal or cop. If it worked for Swayze, maybe it’ll work for you. Or maybe you’ll just die, lonely and unknown.