The A&E reality series has turned officers from Warwick and seven other law-enforcement agencies into celebrities as they carry out their daily duties, from the mundane to the dramatic. For those dealing with police on the air, however, that fame may not always be welcome.

WARWICK — The driver of a parked SUV has done nothing wrong.

But the white owner of a nearby house is fearful that the black man parked outside might do something to his property, which triggers a call to police.

Warwick police Officer Jill Marshall arrives at the scene, shadowed by a camera crew that intends to broadcast her police work — almost in real time — on a national television show, “Live PD.”

It’s the brightest of spotlights for the Warwick police — and anyone who deals with them on camera.

On this Saturday night, Nov. 17, about 2 million viewers in the Nielsen ratings’ coveted 18-to-49 age demographic will watch “Live PD” on the Arts & Entertainment network. “Live PD” regularly attracts more viewers in certain age brackets than any other show on cable television or the networks, according to the rating that excludes sports-viewing audiences.

And the “Live PD” audience does more than just watch. It’s a highly networked group that uses social media to help solve crimes and find missing people, sometimes quite quickly.

The Warwick Police Department has participated in the show, alongside seven other law-enforcement agencies across the country, since June 1, and the myriad effects of this exposure have been wide-ranging. "Live PD" has amplified the department's public profile to rock-star proportions; created celebrity police officers, along with some notorious villains; helped to build a networked audience of followers on social media; and brought public attention, wanted or not, to interactions between police officers and the people they encounter.

Along the way, Marshall has garnered more than 5,400 followers on Twitter since she set up her account in July. "Live PD" viewers participate in a “‘Live PD’ Fantasy League” where they try to pick the officers who will score the most points on their televised shift each week.

After she puts her cruiser in park, many of the police department’s followers are dialed in to her every move, just behind the short delay between the officer’s actions in real time and the live content served up by "Live PD."

Encountering the homeowner in the middle of the street, Marshall wades into a situation infused with racial tension.

From the New York City studio of "Live PD," former “Nightline” co-anchor Dan Abrams is aware of the brewing drama as he guides the show’s viewers, telling them that a “drunken woman” from an earlier incident in Warwick has been taken to a hospital for detox without being charged.

"Now,” Abrams says, “I want to go back live to Warwick.”

“Officer Marshall there is responding to a call from a homeowner …” Abrams adds, as the screen changes to a blank background with large capital letters that say, "WARWICK_RI."

The ponytailed Marshall appears, walking down the street. She tells the white homeowner to go back to his house and turns to the black man sitting at the wheel of the SUV.

"So, what are you up to?" she asks.

"I come to pick up my girlfriend at work," the man responds calmly.

Marshall learns that both the man in the SUV and his girlfriend are employees of a nearby group home.

She tells him he’s “totally fine” before Abrams breaks in to redirect the audience to an incident handled by police in Salinas, California. Soon he brings the focus back to Marshall.

Now on a porch, she is talking with the homeowner, who says the SUV driver “had an attitude.” Visitors to the neighborhood, he says, should understand the concerns of a homeowner worried about protecting his house and other “nice things,” including his boat, from a stranger.

"When a colored person, in plain English, is sitting right in front of my house and I don't know who it is,” the man says, “or a white person, I don't really care either way ..."

Marshall asks him if he can understand the point of view of the other man, who feels he was approached because he’s African-American.

"No," the man says rigidly, adding, “He needs to understand my point of view."

Marshall talks to him some more before she says, “Don't forget, color of skin can be very deceiving … black, white, Hispanic, it doesn't matter."

She politely agrees when the homeowner says he doesn't owe the other man anything; she also tells him that the other man is quite free to park on the street.

"And that's the end of it," she says cheerfully.

However, it isn’t exactly over: Marshall is on television, and she still has things to say to the audience and to the man in the SUV, after which Abrams will transition to more commentary in the studio.

If the two men in Warwick get to their TVs quickly, they might be able to see those comments on national television.

Abrams is the author of a book titled “Man Down: Proof Beyond A Reasonable Doubt That Women Are Better Cops, Drivers, Gamblers, Spies, World Leaders, Beer Tasters, Hedge Fund Managers, and Just About Everything Else.”

He calls Marshall the "ultimate in the art of de-escalation."

Marshall’s mediation between the driver and homeowner is typical of the police activity that forms much of the grist of "Live PD" content.

Her work involves talking to someone behind the wheel of an automobile. The initial call, someone complaining about someone else, isn’t something that would attract news reporters.

“In live TV coverage, we are bringing our cameras to what is supposed to be a major event," says Abrams in an interview with The Providence Journal. "I think what ‘Live PD’ shows is sometimes the more mundane aspects of police work. I think that’s the part that people don’t know about. Yes, the key difference there being that sometimes, "Live PD" is slower. It’s just chronicling what police officers do …”

Both Abrams and Warwick's police chief, Col. Stephen M. McCartney, say that such content is valuable because it helps the public understand the typical work that police officers do as they go through their shifts.

If the public gains a greater understanding of that job, people can be more helpful to police officers, an extra resource that makes police more effective in their mission to protect public safety, says McCartney. “Live PD,” he says, shows police officers as human beings with emotions as they mediate domestic disputes and handle people with drug problems, including opioids.

“I think it’s pure transparency,” says McCartney.

An on-duty police lieutenant does review video content in real time, during the short delay prior to broadcast.

Warwick police Lt. Michael Lima says he can block the broadcast in certain situations, such as an officer-involved shooting, but the department has never needed to do that. Another area involves the privacy of minors, always guarded heavily in the criminal justice system. The delay supports that, says Abrams.

“There’s as much control as you can possibly bring to this situation when it comes to the reality of being out there dealing with police work,” says McCartney.

Officers say they’ve quickly adjusted to the presence of the "Live PD" crews, who know how to stay out of the way. Those crews sometimes shoot additional footage on ride-alongs that can be used at a later date.

The show’s continuing coverage of Warwick police is expected to run through Dec. 15 and possibly begin again in January.

Warwick’s agreement with "Live PD" was reviewed by Mayor Joseph J. Solomon, McCartney says. The deal includes money to cover expenses such as wear and tear on vehicles during the show, as well as costs associated with schedule shifts that are necessary to accommodate the show.

While neither the Warwick Police Department nor the police officers themselves profit directly from the "Live PD" broadcast, they do see measurable benefits that could have financial value.

In recent years, the department has made a concerted effort to build an online network, a modern, real-time crime watch supported by social media.

The force's "Live PD" participation fits right in with various other publicity efforts over the past year, including a seven-minute video for the department's response to a "lip-sync challenge" from Coventry police. Posted on YouTube on Aug. 18, the video shows police officers dancing through the halls of the police station and showing their groove on the tarmac at T.F. Green Airport, dwarfed by the New England Patriots' glistening Boeing 767. It has more than 200,000 views.

The department has 24,235 followers on Facebook. Before "Live PD," the force had 2,300 followers of its Twitter account, @warwickripd, says Lima. Now it has more than 11,000.

“Without a doubt, it’s from the show,” says Lima, who monitors the flood of information, including tips for solving crimes, that inundates the social media accounts during the show.

Abrams says the audience’s engagement with Warwick police also reflects well on the force.

Sgt. John Curley, Warwick’s leading star of "Live PD" and a popular choice in the Fantasy League, has become so recognizable that he is probably ineligible for future undercover assignments.

Curley opened his Twitter account in June and he now has more than 13,000 followers.

Officer Tim Lipka, 28, signed up for Twitter in September prior to a shift with "Live PD." By the end of the night, he says he had 1,000 Twitter followers.

On one occasion, Lipka helped resolve a domestic dispute that involved a man armed with a rifle.

Certain officers are being recognized by viewers even without the cameras around.

“Pretty much all of us know we’re not celebrities,” says Officer Mark Jandreau, a 44-year-old veteran with 17 years on the force.

“We’re not going to let it go to our heads and change how we work,” he says. “We have a good core of people who are seasoned who have been around long enough to know.”

Meanwhile, the effects of the spotlight go both ways. A misstep on "Live PD" could easily hurt the department’s image.

In terms of image, appearances on "Live PD" present the same proposition to the people who deal with the police on the air. They usually aren’t having their best day, and they can pay a price.

The show tells viewers in writing that the people it presents are innocent until proven guilty, which is poignant because some people are initially scrutinized as suspects but not arrested. Abrams updates such cases on air to point out such outcomes.

In one episode in August, viewers watched as U.S. Rep. David N. Cicilline's sister Susan Cicilline-Buonanno struggled mightily to follow an officers' instructions during a roadside sobriety test, but she passed the test.

“That was somewhat unfortunate,” says McCartney, who says he knows she was very unhappy about it and she doesn’t want Warwick to continue participating in the show.

“That’s her prerogative,” he says.

A run-in with police on national television can be embarrassing.

On Nov. 16, officers searching for marijuana in a young woman’s car hauled out a large transparent bag of condoms and put it on the roof.

The woman, who was not recognizable in the video, nonchalantly explained to the amused officers that her grandmother had given them to her.

Abrams was asked if the potential for such an experience on national TV might make someone shy about driving into Warwick.

He drew an analogy with witnesses caught up in courtroom dramas, who aren’t thrilled about being on camera. He believes that cameras should be allowed in courtrooms.

“... Inevitably, with transparency in law enforcement,” says Abrams, “there are going to be some prices to pay, and I think they are greatly outweighed by the ability to show what’s happening.”

Justin Silverman, a lawyer and director of the New England First Amendment Coalition, says he hasn't seen the show, so he isn't ready to endorse it, but he sees value in the type of transparency that can come from camera crews documenting law-enforcement activity.

"The question with these shows," says Silverman, "is how much value they are actually providing the public, because without the proper context it might be hard for the public to assess how law enforcement is operating and to determine whether police are acting in their best interest. We strive for transparency because we want accountability, but if the purpose of a show is solely for entertainment value, then I'm not sure we're getting all the transparency we need to be fully informed."

Steven Brown, director of the American Civil Liberties Union of Rhode Island, says that televising certain interactions between police officers and people they encounter, including persons initially regarded as suspects, can cause great harm, regardless of any clarification that Abrams provides. Such encounters can be quite traumatic for some people, he says.

"The bottom line is, this is not sociological television," he says. "It's entertainment. There's something troubling about turning police encounters into entertainment."

After her exchange with the homeowner on his porch, Marshall is back on the street. She offers her opinion.

"Unfortunately," she says, "we're in a society where we should be a little bit more open-minded and respect people for who they are. But we still run into cases," she says, pausing and taking a deep breath, "where unfortunately we're just not where we need to be."

Marshall returns to the man in the SUV. She apologizes. "It's fine," he says. Now the camera shows his face more clearly.

"But it's not fine," Marshall says.

Back in the studio, Abrams leads in by saying he had been trying to come up with something to say about the homeowner, but Marshall had found more eloquent words to address it.

Now, he asks Warwick police Sgt. John Curley for his comment.

"She did a great job," he says. "He had absolutely really no reason to call." The other man was on a public street minding his own business, Curley says.

"I'm glad it wasn't me," Curley adds. "She handled it better than I would because, quite frankly, I found it a little bit ignorant with what he said.”

— mreynold@providencejournal.com

(401) 277-7490

On Twitter: @mrkrynlds

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