Godfather of Harlem has a way of sucking viewers into its seductive sphere, where silly asides live comfortably with explosive, gory violence as well as informed dreams of what Harlem might've been like at a pivotal point in history.

It is an ambitious, layered period piece about Harlem in the mid-‘60s that seeks to dramatize the often intersecting movements of the mafia and the battle for civil rights. The Oscar-winning star of “The Last King of Scotland” holds it all together, but this is definitely an ensemble piece, and it’s smart, engaging television that only occasionally falters under the weight of its ambition to tell a few too many stories at once.

Godfather dissects these complicated relationships even as it examines how white supremacy operates within the criminal underworld. Between this thoughtfulness and scenes of intense violence, Brancato and Eckstein sometimes struggle to maintain a consistent tone. Add subplots about Bumpy’s family, crooked cops, the Italians (Paul Sorvino, Vincent D’Onofrio, Chazz Palminteri) and star-crossed love, and episodes can get crowded. Still, the show’s ambition pays off in the rare gangster epic we haven’t seen before.

Whitaker is excellent, D'Onofrio's wilder side meshes with Sorvino's quiet one, and Thatch, who has already played Malcolm X before in Selma, is excellent playing off both Whitaker and Esposito. ... By the end of the third episode, the series has leaned in hard to more soap-box and/or convenient moments to tie these massive storylines into something cohesive, but it's too rushed and manipulative, with the episode's ending looking like a music video.

Through his recessive and quiet charisma, [Forest Whitaker] provides the strongest case for the series. The show’s depiction of the Italian mobsters as raffish louts lacks any imagination or real take on the material. (Give them credit, at least, for going with the best: The casting of the likes of Vincent D’Onofrio, Paul Sorvino, and Chazz Palminteri gives scenes that otherwise feel tired a nice patina of quality.)

D’Onofrio is at the more scenery-chewing end of his range, and the early episodes mostly have Esposito in glad-handing mode. But Forest Whitaker is a striking, dangerous presence no matter how familiar the material.

Despite Bumpy’s higher goals in a series that hones in on issues of the era that were especially of importance to black Americans, ultimately it’s aiming more for popcorn watchability than for Emmys, and can really only be appreciated on those terms.