The FX drama *Snowfall* was one of the unexpected success stories of the "Peak TV" era—a time defined by a saturation of high-quality television content. Co-created by renowned filmmaker John Singleton (director of *Boyz N the Hood*), *Snowfall* thrived where many similar series failed. Yet, it did so quietly: *Snowfall* didn't win major awards or catapult its cast to stardom—save for its lead, Damson Idris. Nevertheless, following its 2017 premiere—which predated the launch of Apple TV+ or Disney+ and feels like a lifetime ago in Hollywood terms—the crime drama grew steadily over six seasons before concluding in 2023, a rarity for original dramas today.
Three years later, *Snowfall* has received further recognition of its often-undersung success: a spin-off. Set in 1990—four years after the original series finale—*The Drop: A Snowfall Saga* retains the South Los Angeles setting but shifts the focus from the crack cocaine trade to the music industry during the rise of gangsta rap. Rather than a West Coast version of *The Wire* or *Narcos*, *The Drop* feels more like a fictionalized take on *Straight Outta Compton*, the N.W.A. biopic.
Creator: Malcolm Spellman
Stars: Fatimah Hassan, Chloe Ray, Zaakirah Hisle
While *The Drop* may not turn its protagonists into figures as compelling as Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, or Snoop Dogg, the world they inhabit is steeped in a vivid sense of place. It is rare these days for productions to film in Los Angeles, let alone celebrate the city the way *The Drop* does. That is an admirable quality, even if the series is uneven in its early episodes. The link between "Snowfall" and "The Drop" is formed by Wanda (Gail Bean)—a recovering addict determined to turn her life around—and her ex-boyfriend Leon (Isaiah John), a reformed dealer whose role is initially secondary until Wanda pulls him into her big plan.
(Malcolm Spellman, the creator of "The Drop"—and formerly associated with the Disney+ Marvel series *The Falcon and the Winter Soldier*—never worked on "Snowfall".) Wanda’s vision involves a creative pairing: she wants to connect her 19-year-old cousin Lamarr (Asante Blackk), a budding producer, with the hot rapper Artillery (Simmie Sims III, an MC who performs under the stage name Buddy)—whose latest underground single controversially celebrates the death of a police officer in the line of duty.
Watching Wanda elbow her way into the industry—managing her clients and using her gift of gab to win over the gatekeepers of success—provides the structure for "The Drop." *Atlanta*, another FX series about the rap world and the pitfalls faced by two cousins, largely took its protagonists' upward trajectory for granted, letting their rise happen in the background while episodes focused on more everyday situations. "The Drop" takes a more linear approach: Wanda tries to convince Darryl (Brandon Mychal Smith), the money man, to give her an A&R executive role, and lobbies Jenny (Isidora Goreshter), the head of the record label, to get Artillery’s song played on the radio. There is an ingenious nod to "Snowfall" when Wanda applies drug-dealing principles—letting customers sample the product for free so they’ll pay for more if it’s good—to the launch of a demo track.
However, it is baffling that "The Drop" neglects key figures in music industry history in favor of family conflicts that fail to match the intrigue of the rap world. Artillery, pursued by vengeful police officers, rightly accuses Lamarr of caring more about securing vocals for the songs than about his physical safety. Yet “The Drop” suffers from that same limited perspective; beyond Artillery’s affiliation with the Bloods—whose escalating conflict with the Crips makes daily life increasingly violent, even for civilians uninvolved in the feud—we learn almost nothing about him as a person during the first five episodes. Instead, “The Drop” focuses on how the death of Lamarr’s mother—herself a musician—affected both him and his older brother, James (Peyton Alex Smith). The brothers were raised by their grandparents: Big Daddy (Mykelti Williamson), a laundromat owner, and his wife Gerty (Nicki Micheaux). Gerty is dead set against Lamarr and his niece Wanda pursuing the very dream she still blames for the family’s misfortune.
“The Drop” devotes an entire episode to unpacking the backstory of this shared wound. Although a beloved actress from another prestigious cable series appears as Lamar and James’s late mother—a pleasant surprise I won’t spoil—none of the revelations about family dynamics are as fascinating as the period details in the flashbacks. The opening scene, set at a tent revival in 1950s Los Angeles, gives way to the Afros and wide lapels of the 1970s, spanning generations shaped by African American migration, religion, and musical tradition. There is no reason why “The Drop” couldn’t use other storylines as a vehicle for this kind of anthropology, especially given that underdeveloped characters—like Artillery or Jenny, an L.A. native fighting an uphill battle to modernize her father’s business—remain in the background.
The fact that the setting is far more intriguing than the foreground action is a recurring issue in “The Drop,” but it is also a testament to its strengths. As with any story about fictional talents, “The Drop” sometimes struggles to convince the viewer that its original music is a world-changing invention; Wanda insists that a single heavily sampling Chaka Khan’s “Ain’t Nobody” holds the unifying power to end gang wars—a notion that is, to say the least, questionable. Yet, I had no trouble believing that the palm-lined streets, Craftsman-style homes, and sun-scorched concrete were the very ingredients that gave rise to a hugely influential art form. If “The Drop” manages to elevate its plot to the level of its immersive production design, it will be a series worth watching.
“The Drop” premieres on FX and Hulu on September 8 at 9:00 p.m. ET; remaining episodes will air weekly on Tuesdays.
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