Florida, in the public imagination, is not like other states. Florida is a wild and lawless swamp, even the parts of it that are paved over with high-rises and run by people in tailored suits. It’s alligators and strip clubs and old men in Speedos, and a mythology built out of hijinks so bizarre they could only have been dreamt up by that most quintessentially American creature, Florida Man.
All of which makes the Sunshine State fertile terrain for quirky crime dramas, the latest of which is ABC’s Tampa-set Rj Decker. The two broadcast hours (44ish minutes without commercials) sent to critics try to take advantage of this humid locale by sending its characters on breezy murder mysteries sprinkled with oddball details, with mildly amusing results. So far, though, it’s short on perhaps the most crucial ingredient for selling this milieu in the long term: a lead…
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