These Black-Clad ‘Widows’ Spin a Tangled Web

The popular 1983 British series “Widows” marked the first women-in-crime success of writer Lynda La Plante, who went on to create the oft-brilliant “Prime Suspect,” which brightened PBS and gave viewers fond memories of Helen Mirren as flawed, ambitious police Inspector Jane Tennison, who rose in the ranks despite opposition from her department’s male coppers.

“Widows” coincided in the U.S. with “Cagney and Lacey” when it came to deploying women as serious players in crime drama. The difference is that the women of “Widows” were on the other side of the law.

Now comes La Plante’s Americanized lower-brow “Widows,” which ABC is rolling out on four successive Tuesday nights (starting tonight at 10), with Mercedes Ruehl as an aspiring art thief who involves three other plucky women in her elaborate plan to lift a priceless Vermeer from a gallery whose owner stole it himself.

Although “Widows” begins as a crackling good mystery, the crackle soon vanishes, as does the mystery, with La Plante’s script evolving slowly (paint dries faster) into that traditional male genre, the caper story.

“Widows” has its moments, nearly all of them centering on Ruehl as Dolly Rawlins, whose art thief husband, Harry (Nigel Bennett), has his own Vermeer heist in mind, a scheme violently aborted when he and his partners are trapped in a van that is mysteriously smashed to pieces and torched.

While mourning him, Dolly has an epiphany. She’ll do the heist herself, with help from the widows (Brooke Shields and Rosie Perez) of two of Harry’s colleagues who were in the van with him and the girlfriend (N’bushe Wright) of another man who was incinerated. Meanwhile, Dolly is stalked by a Javert-style cop (Jay O. Sanders) who is sure she’s up to no good.

Geoffrey Sax directs stylishly. As a caper tale, however, “Widows” is pretty much a thrill-less stiff, even though it’s refreshing to have females in action roles that customarily go to males.

But the heist gambit itself is absurd and antique (involving another of those hang-upside-down-to-beat-the-security-and-get-the-loot maneuvers). Suspense? Don’t ask. And attempts at humor fail. Wringing broad comedy from Shields is like squeezing a Frappuccino from stone.

Ruehl, an Oscar and Tony winner now appearing on Broadway in “The Goat,” has most of the credibility here. She fits nicely as a criminal mastermind-come lately, getting points for swagger and chutzpah. And if plans for a U.S. movie version of “Prime Suspect” ever get beyond the talking stage, she’d be just the ticket as Tennison.