Sex sells, and in today’s internet-reliant generation, it’s pretty easy for amateurs to enter the porn industry. But before Craigslist, getting into the game came with considerable risks. HBO’s new series The Deuce captures the in and outs of the rising porn industry in 1970s Times Square.

Created by George Pelecanos and David Simon of The Wire fame, The Deuce follows a sex industry that defined New York’s 42nd Street for years, taking its title from the area’s nickname. What’s now a LED-lit trap for tourists was once a playground for pimps, gangsters, prostitutes and cops during a time of rampant crime and drug use.

The show stars James Franco, who takes on two roles as twins Vincent and Frankie Martino. Their work in the sex industry is an extension of their involvement with heinous mobsters that operate out of Times Square. Despite the brothers’ morally questionable pursuits, their sliminess is shallow when compared to the pimps of the show.

Larry, played by Gbenga Akinnagbe, is your typical piece-of-shit procurer. He is menacing and does not hesitate to remind his women of their place in his business. Akinnagbe executes this role well, as he switches up his demeanor when speaking outside of his business, just as a criminal would.

Our most memorable pimp, however, is C.C., played by Downton Abbey‘s Gary Carr. C.C. sustains his business not simply through a well-planned prostitution ring, but his acting skills. He distinguishes himself as a character through his impressive charisma and ability to romance his workers. With promises of a better life, he manipulates his girls and masks his work in the sex industry as a place of refuge, creating a well crafted narrative where he plays some sort of a Prince Charming.

C.C. entices newcomer Lori, played by Emily Meade, with talks of family and fame. He even goes as far as killing a man masked as a cop to protect her. But C.C’s magic eventually runs out — as it did for longtime worker Ashley, played by Jamie Neumann whose jealousy toward the fresh-faced Lori is seen in her eyes. Her gaze to C.C.’s newest piece of flesh is as predatory as a lion stalking its prey.

Somehow, Meade is able to steal the attention in many of her scenes with Carr, as her character is cautious despite pursuing a risky lifestyle. This is an impressive feat, as most characters are not as memorable — except for Candy, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal.

Candy is the only prostitute that finds her work without a pimp. Like many other streetwalkers, her profession is a product of being a single mother. She uses her profits are to cover expenses for her young son, who is taken care of by his grandmother. Gyllenhaal differentiates her character by portraying her with characteristics expected of men, such as machismo and boldness rather than passivity and distress.

As a fiercely independent woman, Candy at first denies a role in the porn industry, where she would not make a profit every time a man climaxes from her work. But after stumbling into a shoot to help a friend, she develops a fascination for the newly emerging world of porn.

The show has strong potential, largely due to its star cast and well-written characters. Much like Orange Is the New Black, the viewer is forced to understand how criminals landed in their position — and, rather than pass judgment, empathize with their conditions. Only two episodes into the season, The Deuce has already developed each of its characters considerably by following their day-to-day lives, humanizing such caricatured roles.

3/4 shells