The stars of ABC's "Texas Justice" are not really Peter Strauss and Heather Locklear, as the credits say. The stars are Locklear, and the costume and hair people who got her ready for the camera.
This is a mini-series that's mostly about style. And Locklear, as Priscilla Davis, winningly redefines bad taste in this four-hour walk on the outer fringes of Texas tackiness, which starts at 9 tomorrow night on WMAR (Channel 2).
"Texas Justice" is supposed to be a docudrama about T. Cullen Davis, a Fort Worth multimillionaire who was tried three times for murder in the 1970s. Davis, who is played by Strauss, was accused of attempting to murder his wife, Priscilla, and killing her boyfriend and daughter.
Davis was also tried in a separate case on solicitation of murder -- paying someone to kill the Fort Worth judge who had been presiding over Davis' long, expensive divorce from Priscilla.
But Locklear and her costumes steal the show from Strauss' depiction of Davis in ABC's supercharged telling. Portraying a self-described piece of "trailer trash," Locklear's outfits make Vanna White's letter-turning get-ups look positively staid. Priscilla had an affinity for anything skin-tight, leopard-printed or featuring fur and rhinestones (preferably together), and not a stich is missed in the re-tailoring for TV.
The mini-series is at its best when it revels in the short marriage of Cullen and Priscilla. They bought a commercial jet that Cullen called "Priscilla's flying closet." They would attend prestigious auctions and wind up buying the whole "busload" with a single check. In their famous Fort Worth mansion, a larger-than-life portrait of Cullen hung over the fireplace and was lit like a shrine.
Most of the Cullen-and-Priscilla details here are true. Based on trial transcripts and the nonfiction book "Blood Will Tell" by Gary Cartwright, we see a Texas of 20 years ago when Cullen Davis' excesses in business and romance were part of Americana. It was a lifetime away from the savings and loan debacles, when Cullen's kind of wheeling and dealing got what you might call a bad name.
Cullen's three murder trials, spectacular wealth, high-priced attorneys and penchant for dyed blonds who were younger than him inspired the CBS television series "Dallas." Like that series, "Texas Justice" is in part a tribute to lust, greed, bad taste and wealth beyond compare.
But what was also true about Cullen-and-Priscilla, and brought the fun to a halt, was someone in a wig and black clothing coming to the mansion one night and shooting Priscilla and several others. Cullen and Priscilla were separated at the time and battling it out in court in a bitter divorce case.
A big chunk of the mini-series is courtroom drama, which is not nearly up to the level of Cullen-and-Priscilla-in-lust. Dennis Franz plays Richard "Racehorse" Haines, the real-life Houston attorney who defended Cullen in all three trials.
While Franz is note-perfect in his role of Andy Sipowicz on "NYPD Blue," he's often flat or sharp in his attempt to depict a skilled courtroom tactician. Maybe the nicest way to put this is that neither the wig nor the Southern accent is a very good fit.
Yet, the trial of a rich man accused of trying to murder his attractive young wife, and the murder of innocent bystanders, does have a certain inherent intrigue these days, if not special resonance.
I promised myself I wasn't going to get all cosmic about what is mainly a sexy, gotta-get-those-ratings, sweeps mini-series. I really did want to just go with the flow and hoot at Locklear in her trashy little outfits.
But allow me one thought here. I wonder what happens to us when we watch the real murder trial of O.J. Simpson by day and the fictional one of T. Cullen Davis by night on our television screens, and we somehow find them equally sexy, funny and entertaining. After a while, will anyone in the audience know the difference?