Reality TV loves LV law

Sunday, Nov. 5, 2006 | 8:07 a.m.

Parole officer Nate Peterson is standing in a bulletproof vest outside a home that belongs to one of his sex offenders - a child molester on lifetime supervision - a man allowed neither the "Happy Halloween" banner dangling above his doorstep nor the pumpkins lumped together and leading to his front door.

"A guy like this should not have a Happy Halloween," Peterson says .

A cameraman cuts in close to Peterson, gets his lens within a few feet of the parole officer's face and waits. A man with a notepad approaches.

"Nate, can you tell us that again?" the man says. A boom mike drops down and pauses near Peterson's mouth. The parole officer hunches, hesitates, starts again.

"A guy like this should not have a Happy Halloween," Peterson says. Two cameras are on him now. He finishes, they don't move. Peterson pants, starts again.

"So this," the house, the Halloween decorations, the felony sex offender's holiday festivity, "this is a definite no-no."

Across the street, neighbors are at their windows on cell phones, moving their mouths silently and staring at the camera crew assembled at the end of a dark driveway in a quiet Las Vegas cul-de-sac. They're shooting a reality TV show, "State Parole," described in promotional material as an "exciting, unpredictable and often volatile world where dedicated parole officers risk their lives trying to reintegrate felon parolees into society while keeping the public safe."

It isn't the first time reality TV has turned its lens on Las Vegas law enforcement. According to TV producers and the local police who they've trailed with cameras for hours, the lure of Las Vegas for television is some loose combination of crime, grime and casino. "Cops," perhaps the longest running and most popular of such programs, has been filming Metro Police since 1989, the year the show debuted. Today, "Cops" creator John Langley has such a cozy relationship with Metro Police that his production company donated $10,000 to Undersheriff Doug Gillespie's campaign for sheriff.

"It's bright lights, big city time in Las Vegas, that's always been the appeal," Langley said. "It's a fabulous backdrop for anything you film."

On Halloween night, the "State Parole" crew rides with Peterson and parole officer Debbie Lupe as they conduct surprise house calls on convicted child molesters to make sure the molesters aren't plying prey with candy. The task is dubbed Operation Scarecrow.

The "State Parole" camera crew and producer Mark Massari wear bulletproof vests, for insurance purposes.

"We usually wear them all the time," Massari said.

But the Halloween house is empty. Lupe looks into the back yard. She is blond, trim, tan and unsure why the producers chose her - of all parole officers who work for Nevada's Public Safety Department - to film.

"It's nerve-racking," she said. "It's just sort of hard when you're put on the spot, and they're filming you and asking questions at the same time."

Lupe, who spends her workweek managing serious sex offenders, is uncomfortable around cameras.

Massari points his notepad at the front door. "Did we get a shot of the 'Happy Halloween' from Nate's perspective?" he says. A cameraman snaps around and starts filming the decorated doorway.

Peterson looks into the dry yard, a microphone hovering above his head.

The key is not to notice the camera - don't cower before it, and don't play to it, said Metro Lt. Randy Sutton, who has been in 14 episodes of "Cops" and is widely known as the show's most filmed police officer.

"They just got a lot of good material from me. They got some dramatic stuff. They liked what they saw," Sutton said. "If you change the way you're doing business, it's really uninteresting because you're so clearly playing to an audience."

One episode of "Cops" features Sutton responding to an elderly woman who has beaten her husband with a broomstick. She justifies her behavior to Sutton - and the TV audience, which is millions - by screaming "He's been drunk for 30 years!"

"They replay the hell out of it," said Sutton, who was filmed at different points in the late '80s and early '90s and is still regularly recognized as "the guy from 'Cops.' " At police recruiting events, Sutton has met men and women who say they want to work for Metro because of what they've seen on TV.

"There is a public fascination with Vegas," he said. "It attracts the attention of people not only around the country, but around the world."

Sutton has gotten phone calls from parents in Australia asking him to scold their misbehaving children. In 1992, he was hired to host a British version of the show, called "Police Stop," and flown to England where he made friends with a top-ranking Scotland Yard officer and ended up riding escort with Queen Elizabeth on her birthday.

"The show has lead to other things for me," said Sutton, who was recognized in a restaurant just this Tuesday. "The visibility of that show is amazing."

If "State Parole" takes off, there will most likely be a second and third season, Massari said. The Los Angeles producer's last show, "True Stories of the Highway Patrol," ended after 630 episodes.

But filming the police can be complicated. Metro Lt. Tom Monahan worked in the homicide unit from 2001-2005 and, during that time, was filmed for a few episodes of "Cops." Working on death investigations, dealing with suspects and sensitive information isn't made any easier with a TV crew, he said, delicately.

"It did become somewhat problematic to have the bright lights and cameras following you around," he said.

A&E Entertainment followed two Metro homicide detectives for "The First 48," a reality show that chronicles the first two days of a homicide investigation - often the most critical hours . Only a handful of episodes ever aired.

On "State Parole," the sex offenders can choose to have their faces blurred, blacked out or not filmed at all, in which case a cameraman won't shoot above the hip. The crew has spent three weeks in Las Vegas, filming several officers in Public Safety Department's parole and probation division. They have captured a few arrests on camera, some compelling chase scenes and hours of footage they'll have to fillet into one-hour shows.

"Every contact a parole officer has is with a felon. They are up against something pretty dangerous most of the time, and that's what appeals to me," Massari said. "There's a lot going on in Las Vegas. TV tends to go where the action is."

Before they're done, Massari and his cameramen will visit several states. "State Parole" will air in 2007, on a high-definition network subscribers must pay to watch.

Peterson and Lupe may come to regret it.

In 1989, Monahan and Sheriff Bill Young were featured in an early episode of "Cops." At the time, both men were on Metro's vice squad and were filmed conducting a hotel room prostitution sting. For the sting, Monahan went undercover, dressed as a glitzy Arab sheik with a traditional kaffiyeh over his head and a handful of gold necklaces. With cameras rolling, Monahan made like he couldn't speak much English and ultimately, two working girls were arrested for the world to watch on television .

"It's not my proudest moment," Monahan said.

Regardless, the 17-year-old episode is fantastically popular and rebroadcast seven or eight times a year.

"Arguably, Sheriff Young has risen to the highest level of law enforcement in the entire county, and I'm pretty proud of my career path," Monahan said. "Yet one of the things I am most known for is two misdemeanor arrests."

Monahan doesn't watch the show. "It's not much entertainment for me," he said. Neither does Sutton - something about coming home from work to watch people doing your job isn't that appealing.

"It's exactly the same," he said. "The only difference is there's somebody recording it."

At the end of Operation Scarecrow, Peterson and Lupe had knocked on five or six doors and found all but one of the sex offenders they monitor to be in total compliance of the rules.

"And that's a success," Lupe said, wringing her hands. "It doesn't make good TV, but it's great."

archive