Michael Hayes (1997) s01e19 – Power Play

The entire episode hinges on Allison Smith’s performance as a Patty Hearst-type who falls in with a post-Waco vengeance militia. Or at least if it were good it would. The performance. The episode’s not bad, with decent guest star turns from Byron Minns as a suspicious ATF agent, and then Linda Carlson and Frank Converse as Smith’s parents. But it’s nowhere near as good as it ought to be.

The episode spotlights Smith, time and again, even though she just draws attention to the flimsiness of the story. The real story kicks off after the episode’s over—given all the reveals on what’s been going on before the episode. David Caruso and Peter Outerbridge are trying one of the militia guys for murder only Smith shows up to say Minns is lying. They start investigating (Ruben Santiago-Hudson is around at this point in the episode… he’s going to disappear, hopefully to shoot a safety pilot for next season), bringing in Converse—a hard ass blue blood judge—and Carlson and giving Outerbridge a decent scene or two but then Minns arrests Smith and it becomes Single White Female all of a sudden. Smith starts stalking Caruso and so on.

The conclusion—or more like second half of the episode—has one of the militia members taking hostages in a federal building and Caruso trying to convince Smith to help de-escalate the situation. Hillary Danner’s around presumably because it was her week not to go off and shoot that safety pilot (in addition to Santiago-Hudson vanishing from the episode, Rebecca Rigg never appears). Though Jimmy Galeota does show up for a couple scenes to remind when Caruso had some kind of character development on the show. Some kind of character even.

Before the hostage situation, the episode has a mildly intriguing thing going—it’s doing Caruso investigating government conspiracies without it being the conspiracy mythology the show’s been trying to gin up and the corruption angle is engaging–but once the hostage thing takes over….

It all of a sudden matters whether episode director Vahan Moosekian is going to be able to make it thrilling (he’s not) or suspenseful (also no). And then to have it all be about Smith during that portion of the episode too… it just doesn’t work. It can’t. Bonnie Marks gets the script credit and the script’s at fault for many of the episode’s problems, including Smith’s character and its writing. But everyone else is able to make the writing work—Jodi Long finally gets more to do after being office scenery for most of the series (she hasn’t had anything to do until she had to tell Caruso not to be passively racist about ten episodes ago) and then ends up getting the shit end of the stick in a scene to showcase Converse’s privilege.

With a good lead guest star and a better plot, this episode could’ve been a slam dunk. Instead, it’s just not as bad as the new normal (yet still manages to remind the show’s a shambles of its potential).

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e18 – Gotterdammerung

It’s recognizable guest star week on “Michael Hayes.” Lots of guest stars. Sadly former “Facts of Life” co-stars Meredith Scott Lynn and Charlotte Rae don’t share any scenes. But there’s also the return of Larry Miller—he gets a “special appearance” credit—and does his best Gene Hackman in “The Conversation” (or Gene Hackman in Enemy of the State trailers) as a CIA agent who gives David Caruso the dirt on the CIA hiring on a bunch of Nazis after World War II, which is true but the show’s so silly at the conspiracy stuff it doesn’t come off truthy. The main guest star is Lawrence Dobkin, playing an elderly German immigrant who changes his testimony on the stand. He’s testifying against other guest star Vyto Ruginis.

Dobkin changes his story right after Holocaust survivor Rae spots him in the court house, in such an obvious sequence (even without the show’s “cut in a Nazi uniform” montage technique, even worse than the show’s flashback devices) you have to wonder if Hillary Danner’s character is supposed to have never seen or heard of Marathon Man.

Last recognizable guest star is Lawrence Pressman as the government Nazi hunter who tries to find out the story on Dobkin.

Meanwhile, Caruso, Danner, Peter Outerbridge, and Ruben Santiago-Hudson are all scrambling to save the case against Ruginis (for murdering a federal agent) while wondering if they fell for an old Nazi’s lies or if Rae’s just mistaken.

Once the CIA gets involved, Miller comes back for a scene—which just leads Caruso off to another visit with jailed CIA whistleblower now conspiracy crank Thomas Kopache (who isn’t a recognizable guest star so much as what I assume is a desperate attempt at appealing to “X-Files” viewers)—and then Caruso’s got to figure out how to uncover all the secrets.

There’s some good acting. Rae’s really good, Pressman’s good, Dobkin’s pretty good—the problem for Dobkin is he’s in it too much, doing too little, and the script (credited to show runner Michael S. Chernuchin and Barry Schkolnick) doesn’t really know how to do the story. The script shoehorns in conspiracy when it’d have been more affecting and effective without it. The regular cast just gets to be angry about Dobkin hoodwinking them—or is he—and all of a sudden you’ve got a roomful of righteous rage and not just the seething righteous rage of Caruso. Caruso’s righteous fury a lot more effective when the bad guys aren’t potentially actual Nazis. It’s over kill, lighting a burner with a flamethrower; though it does give Caruso endless one-liner deliveries to try out, just not a lot of acting.

It’s well-acted enough, just really thinly written—the episode disappoints in an all new way; even towards the end of the season, “Michael Hayes” can always find a new fail vector.

Also, one final complaint—no Rebecca Rigg (but Danner, who’s been sitting out Rigg episodes). Not sure why they can’t be on the same episodes anymore, possibly because all the characters are purely functional at this point.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e15 – Imagine: Part 2

Despite some better than necessary acting from the guest stars and nicely competent direction from Mel Damski (though Damski can’t make the silly black and white flashbacks to last episode work and every time they’re jarring and terrible and there are a lot of times), it’s a reductive conclusion to the big conspiracy two-parter.

Given the timing, had the Enemy of the State trailer come out yet? Were CBS and new show runners Michael S. Chernuchin (who also gets sole writer credit here) and Michael Pressman just trying to get into the zeitgeist? Because even though the episode convinces most of the regular cast the world is being run by a combination of the mob and Wall Street, the conclusion punts on it. I suppose “The X-Files” was running at the time too, right? Is “Michael Hayes 4.0” going to be David Caruso versus aliens? Fingers crossed.

The episode opens with Jimmy Galeota and Mary B. Ward coming back to the show for the first time in a couple episodes. Everyone’s gotten over their grieving apparently and the dead brother, dead husband, dead father elephant in the room never gets a nod or even addressed. Chernuchin very intentionally doesn’t give Caruso much acting to do—and Damski directs for the guest stars—so it’s impossible to read any character development into the performances. There’s just a new normal and they’re trying again. Maybe this time they’ll figure it out.

Everyone’s working the conspiracy angle, which brings in Alex Rocco as a guest star (there’s also a Godfather 2 reference no one acknowledges, making it worse); Chris Mulkey’s back for a scene and he’s still bad. But Kevin Conway—who only gets a couple—is still fun. Lisa Banes and Gail Strickland are the good guest stars.

Larry Miller shows up in an overly suspicious conspiratorial part but, I mean, he’s still good. It’s Larry Miller.

“Michael Hayes” never really got a good break. The show’s first pass was already trying to correct, it got rushed through what seems to have been the most earnest stretch, and now we’re in the desperate for attention phase.

There’s a solid chunk of the season for them to try to correct or just to continue to fail, but retracting the scope of the conspiracy angle really feels like they tried sacrificing a limb to the shark in the first tank to swim on to the second.

It’s very hard to be upbeat about the show’s potential at this point.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e14 – Imagine: Part 1

Well, it makes sense why the previous episode closed off two plot threads with big ol’ cop outs—“Michael Hayes” has got a new pair of drivers. This episode adds Michael S. Chernuchin (single writing credit on the episode) and Michael Pressman (director of the episode) as executive producers. Their big idea for what to do with the show is make it as sensational as possible, with David Caruso and company hunting down a Unabomber-esque suspect who the FBI has been hiding from the public for eight years because Waco.

We’ve also gone from Caruso just waiting for his permanent appointment to the unnamed but it’s Janet Reno boss in Washington out to get him. And Ruben Santiago-Hudson has become a fascist.

There’s nothing about the bombshells in Caruso’s life in the last episode, even though part of the case involves sibling loyalty and he doesn’t flinch at it. I suppose you can imagine Caruso added something to the performance because of the previous events but… there’s nothing in the script. Outside the characters, the show’s tabula rasa.

There are a bunch of guest stars—got to have persons of interest in a procedural (Caruso’s not running around with a gun at least, just personally investigating the crime and interviewing witnesses). Kevin Conway’s the reporter who helps Caruso leak the story and then becomes integral to the investigation because it’s Kevin Conway. Gail Strickland’s good as the woman who thinks her brother has become the bomber. Lisa Banes is an antagonist defense attorney who has history with Caruso and gets the best acting out of him. Chris Mulkey’s a weasely FBI agent. Harley Venton is the former CIA wetworks guy with all the answers whether Caruso wants to hear the truth or not.

Venton’s godawful and might be the first shark Fonz is jumping over after zooming towards the ramp. Mulkey’s part of the ramp.

None of the regular cast gets much to do since Caruso’s doing all the investigating and interviewing himself (after Santiago-Hudson gets done with a fine Richard Riehle). Rebecca Rigg maybe gets the most after Santiago-Hudson. Hillary Danner gets the least (i.e. she’s only in full group scenes). Peter Outerbridge in between Rigg and Danner.

Thanks to Chernuchin and Pressman, “Michael Hayes” feels like sensationalized CBS nonsense, which it’s kind of amazing they managed to avoid until now. At least Caruso’s not running around with a pistol taking shots at suspects but… who knows what will happen once the Fonz is over the next shark.

It’s also a two-parter so I suppose there’s the slim chance the new guys’ll save it in the landing.

Or the shark will eat them.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e13 – Arise and Fall

Even with some big cop outs—so big it’s practically another soft reset of the series—it’s either the best or second best episode with show co-creator John Romano’s name in the writing credits. Most of the episode is a “day in the life” of the people working at the U.S. Attorney’s office; more of a few days in the life, but still. The episode’s got a nice scale to it.

Arise and Fall starts with David Caruso complaining about cockroaches to secretary Jodi Long, which ends up driving both B plots. There’s going to be some evidence mishandling, giving Ruben Santiago-Hudson something to do all episode, but also will provide another aspect to the Peter Outerbridge learns blue bloods can be problem employees too story arc. Outerbridge has just won a case with previously unseen because it’s a huge office attorney Brian McNamara (and Hillary Danner). They’re going to form a subplot group throughout the episode, starting with them opening up the series’s hang out restaurant for coffee after a night of celebrating.

Outerbridge hasn’t had a lot to do on the show and he handles this story arc quite well. Though the episode completely goes with “sexually harass a woman” to fuel her male colleagues’ character development trope. Women, regular cast or guest stars, are fairly disposable around here. Mary Ward even shows up for a couple scenes to establish something for back again David Cubitt to pick up later.

Caruso spends the first half of the episode dealing with the outstanding “girlfriend Helen Slater is possibly on the mob payroll” multi-episode arc, which has Arye Gross showing up for a two scenes as the investigator, which ends up being as many scenes as Slater gets. It’ll end up being one of the big cop outs.

The second half’s A plot—the episode’s fairly balanced so the only reason it’s the A plot is because it’s Caruso’s—is about Cubitt turning himself in and Caruso trying to work it all out.

Outside the opening cockroach conversation, most of Caruso’s scenes have him pensively, silently reacting to either news or giving news to someone. The episode takes its time with those moments, with director Richard J. Lewis letting Caruso find the meat in the scenes. It’s nice Lewis takes the time, especially since the only other distinctive aspect of his direction is how poorly he directs kid Jimmy Galeota. Like, the writing’s not great on Galeota (who’s emotional fodder for the Cubitt subplot, just like Ward) but still. They should’ve kept doing takes until they got something a little better.

It’s a mostly high mediocre episode (as it combats the first half cop out), with the second big cop out dragging it down at the end.

But, hey, maybe they’ll finally figure out what to do with the show next episode.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e12 – Mob Mentality

An episode after I list Anne Kenney as one of the show’s reliable writers, she turns in this whiff of an episode. Obviously it’s not all her fault—there are multi-episode stories and Helen Slater’s guest star arc in play—but even taking those elements out… there’s a lot of problems. Actually, the Slater stuff—while disappointing—isn’t even the big problem (with the episode, the series’s momentum is another thing).

The big problem is the A plot trial, which has Rebecca Rigg and Hillary Danner trying Black man Perry Moore for inciting a fellow rioter to kill a couple Jewish guys; there’s a riot because it’s that story about the rabbi running over a little Black girl and driving away. There was a “Law & Order” about it too.

It’s very weird and hopefully was just as weird at the time, because the episode’s all about how white people are justifiably scared of Black people—specifically Ruben Santiago-Hudson—and how it turns out they’re justified. Also Black people aren’t at all interested in being truthful, so there’s another of Kenney’s big flexes. It’s the two white women—Rigg and Danner—who get the moral authority here, because even though he’s only around to observe and call them “ladies” in a seemingly unintentional but actual patronizing way, Caruso’s in Santiago-Hudson’s court. He too cares more about the dead Black girl, which Rigg and Danner are completely indifferent about.

The acting’s all fine. Nice John Capodice cameo as the judge. Jason Blicker is good as the Hassidic guy who survived the attack (his friend did not). Rigg’s good. She’s playing a bigot and everyone seems fine with it but whatever. She’s very believable at it. Santiago-Hudson has to absolve her of her bigotry at one point, which is a heck of a shitty scene. Additionally, Kenney doesn’t even have Rigg and Danner pass Bechdel?

The episode pays lip service to trying to responsibility navigate the “controversy” in the first few scenes, but it ends up being a bunch of whataboutery and specious equivalences. It’s a bummer.

Also a bummer is the court scene, where Rigg is facing off against guest star George Wyner as the defense attorney. Wyner always seems like he should be better. He’s fine—the episode’s got a bunch of good guest stars, including Richard Foronjy and Walter Olkewicz—but doesn’t get enough to do.

The cliffhanger from last episode doesn’t get addressed either; Caruso is too busy being obsessed about something else from last episode. It seemed like the show was going to do character development. Only instead it throws the character development in reverse in order to gin up some sensationalism.

It’s a bummer. The episode is a definite bummer. Especially since it brings up unconscious bias in the narrative; it’s a profoundly unaware script and puts Kenney on the bottom of the list of regular writers. Usually when the show’s tepid, it’s because it’s trying too hard to be macho, not literally being a Karen.

Good performance from Peter Outerbridge, who’s got a short but relevant subplot this episode after being office scenery for most of the series so far.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e11 – Retribution

In addition to the omnipresent Christmas theme, the episode also showcases a bunch of new second unit location shooting of New York—including, possibly, even David Caruso and guest star Helen Slater on location there. Maybe they filled in somewhere else. It’s fairly convincing, especially since every other time there’s a suggested street scene it doesn’t happen, instead cutting right to interiors.

The Christmas stuff—decorations everywhere, constant diegetic and non-diegetic sound—is a little much until the episode resolution, where it becomes a wonderful, reassuring, albeit depressing cushion for the action. It’s a different kind of episode—Gardner Stern gets solo writing credit—because for the first time, Caruso’s got an equal. Slater’s an assistant district attorney who he wants to swap cases with so he can get mob boss Seth Jaffe, but they have a dating history. We’ve rarely gotten to see Caruso as outwardly self-reflective as in this episode and even then… not to this degree. It initially seems like they’re spinning their wheels with Slater’s presence in the plot, but it really works out by the end.

The A plot is the Jaffe case, which has first Castulo Guerra wearing a wire, then Richard C. Sarafian. It’s a decent guest star turn for Sarafian. It’s not too deep a role, he’s playing a caricature (even after some character reveals), but it’s decent. Slater overshadows him—the episode’s got a bunch of guest stars, including Gregg Henry hanging out to talk Caruso’s permanent appointment to his U.S. Attorney job, which barely gets any attention—and it feels imbalanced until the end.

But the supporting regulars—Ruben Santiago-Hudson, Rebecca Rigg, Peter Outerbridge—they all do the A plot. The B plot is Hillary Danner’s ableist, classist arc about a wanna-be cult leader (Sherman Howard) who uses religious freedom to con women into prostitution. Sincerely held religious belief after all. It’s a bad subplot, however, because Stern’s script is shitty to the victims—Jenna Byrne and Michelle Beaudoin, who it presents as too stupid or too uneducated to realize Howard’s exploiting them. Part of the plot is Danner getting called on the classism, but it doesn’t add up to anything. Maybe there’s a disconnect between Stern’s script, Danner, and Fred Gerber’s direction, maybe it’s just a bad story arc.

Lots of good acting from Caruso, who’s on display—Slater is convinced there’s something behind the choir boy and seems to have the receipts, whereas everyone else in the show just gets the choir boy. Drawing attention to the lack of projected personality—the show even opens with Henry trying to get Caruso to make a statement on personal beliefs about abortion and gets shut down with a “it’s the law” (Caruso as old man Rorschach as Judge Dredd, though one assumes his “CSI: Miami” money keeps him having to work)—it just ends up showing, thanks to Slater’s subtle influence on their scenes, the humanity in the performance.

It’s good. The episode seems like a bit of a misfire throughout—none of the problems of a John Romano episode, but also not the heights of a Haggis or Anne Keanney one—but the end really delivers.

Hopefully they’re able to keep Slater around.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e10 – The Confidence Man

The curse of the John Romano co-writing credit continues. Otherwise it’s an excellent episode about David Caruso’s old cop partner, Scott Lawrence, coming for help. An FBI informant (a slimy but not too slimy—or not in it enough to be too slimy—Alan Blumenfeld) is threatening fetching bank teller Tracy Douglas over bad checks. Douglas goes to the cops, meeting Lawrence; they get romantically involved.

So while Caruso’s trying to figure out whether or not he can disentangle an active investigation from Blumfield, which brings in a kind of wonderfully tepid Dann Florek as the handler, there’s rising concern for Douglas. And then a subplot about Caruso’s ex-con brother, David Cubitt, pulling jobs to pay off his debt to loan sharks. There’s no B plot exactly, just a bunch of C plots, including Jimmy Galeota’s tenth birthday party, Caruso telling sister-in-law Mary B. Ward how Cubitt thinks they’re lovers, then a weird thing about all the women in the office wanting to do things for Caruso and him being uncomfortable.

Like secretary Jodi Long being willing to pick up his laundry—leading to a weird attempt at a sitcom-esque gag (Long’s so good and has so little to do on the show) but then associate Hillary Danner being willing to date an FBI agent for information.

At least Rebecca Rigg—in her single scene—comes in to tell Caruso not to be stupid and only agrees to his orders under duress and with complaint. No wonder Romano never uses her. The Long and Danner stuff feels very much like what I’d expect from a Romano episode.

The scene with Ward and Caruso has promise but goes nowhere. It at least lingers long enough to give Ward some silent rumination to essay. Dan Lerner’s direction is rather patient, especially with Caruso, who will get his one-liner, then Lerner and editor Elba Sanchez-Short hang on it long enough for Caruso to act a beat. Certainly the best handling of a Romano episode so far.

Unfortunately, the finale is a disaster because it just sets up another cliffhanger in the Cubitt subplot. Cubitt’s real bad this episode… real bad. Maybe even worst ever. It’s particularly grating because the scene before, where Caruso and Lawrence do manly emotional labor for one another, is excellent.

Lawrence is pretty good, even as his character’s stuck in unlikely situations—wait, I just realized real NYPD cops are allowed to rape suspects in custody so never mind. A consensual relationship with a witness and victim is no doubt all good on TV in the nineties.

Decent Ruben Santiago-Hudson investigating material. Some excellent Caruso moments.

If they’d just forgotten to tie up the Cubitt subplot, it’d be a pretty darn good episode. Sadly, thanks to the cliffhanger setup—and Cubitt’s lousy performance—it’s not.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e09 – Slaves

I wasn’t looking forward to this episode. “Michael Hayes” has been struggling the last couple and it was never on firm grounding to begin with. Then the opening title sequence hit and… the rest of the legal team actors’ names were in it. Episode nine is where Hillary Danner, Rebecca Rigg, and Peter Outerbridge get added as regulars. But then I saw the first guest star—Lucy Alexis Liu—and all of a sudden I remembered; I have one cogent memory of “Michael Hayes” and this episode was going to contain it. I remembered more along the way—Jodi Long’s so good and the scene’s such a “thank goodness” (she’s calling out white people’s savior complex in general, lead David Caruso as a specific example, while also addressing the efficacy of having biased white “experts” talking about the Chinese immigrant experience). It works out; my cogent memory is validated and the show is all of a sudden on completely different footing. Script credit to Anne Kenney and Paul Haggis.

The episode starts with Caruso addressing a bunch of cops about to raid a “house of prostitution.” Only, Caruso (and Kenney and Haggis) explain, it’s not a regular house of prostitution because the women are being held captive; they’re Chinese immigrants, in the country without visas—I’d forgotten how often the term “illegal aliens” got thrown around in mainstream media, even when there’s a whole thing about the system being inhumane and shitty—and they’re chained to the floor. 1997 is apparently before “human trafficking” entered Hollywood’s vernacular; it’s also back when you could have someone like Caruso say “America doesn’t do slavery” with a straight face.

The raid goes bad and Caruso and team are left with two potential witnesses—Liu and Jeanne Chinn—against a seemingly upstanding businessman suspect, Michael Paul Chan. Liu’s a good girl, Chinn’s a bad girl, but neither of them are receptive to Caruso’s questioning because he can’t keep them in the country. John Prosky shows up (again, I think) as a dipshit INS agent (it’s not his fault, it’s just the agency itself is shit is the message), with a chunk of the plot dedicated to Caruso and Outerbridge trying to figure out how to get him to grant refugee visas.

The procedural aspects, with Rigg and Ruben Santiago-Hudson (demoted in the credit order due to everyone but Caruso being alphabetical and three names getting added, but still a solid part) doing field work are good. Mostly thanks to the script, but also Adam Nimoy’s direction is the best the show’s had either ever or in memory. Also, Rigg’s a hoot out in the field, a self-aware brassy sitcom neighbor but as a meticulous lawyer; Rigg’s always working the character, even when she’s in background; the mind is racing. She’s awesome to watch, a great foil for Caruso, who’s doing the same thing.

But where the episode excels in the character arc for Caruso (and Liu). Without a lot of exposition setting it up—any exposition setting it up, actually—the episode essays Caruso’s emotional reaction to Liu and Chinn—Chinn’s a caricature for most of her time in the episode, but when that barrier cracks, it’s very much because of Caruso’s performance. It’s in the script and Chinn’s close to leveling up on her own, but Caruso—problematically, to be sure—is what makes it happen. “Michael Hayes” is about a white savior who just happens to be white. They wouldn’t be able to get away with any of it without Caruso, whose ability to toggle between loud and quiet is unsurpassed.

Except Chinn’s the bad girl who’s a (relatively) easy flip. There’s a lot more with Liu, as Caruso tries to crack her as a witness, then forms a bond with her. Unlike the Chinn stuff, Liu and Caruso’s arc succeeds because of Liu. Their scenes are all about the performances, because it’s all talk, sometimes about legal citizenship stuff, sometimes about aspirational Americana stuff, and the drama has to come out of the characters speaking to and reacting to one another. No wonder I remember loving this show.

No sign of other still regular cast members Mary B. Ward and Jimmy Galeota—I think they may have even taken Galeota’s picture out of Caruso’s office—and the show’s… better for it. Much better for it. Even with Danner not really having enough to do and Outerbridge still just being a blue blood stick in the mud, the team procedural dynamic succeeds.

I’m not sure what to expect from “Hayes” going forward and this episode might very well be its peak, but it’s a good peak. Even though it’s a CBS show by white people for white people from 1997, it ages all right. Kenney and Haggis are at least aware of that situation and try (well, not with the title but Haggis did end up making Crash, didn’t he). And Caruso and Liu are spectacular together, which is what matters. The episode is all theirs.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e06 – Heroes

Paul Haggis has a co-writer credit on the script, which seems to mean—among other things—Hillary Danner is going to get some things to do and Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s going to be good because the writing for him is better. Santiago-Hudson has less to do than last episode, when the writing wasn’t Haggis and was bad, but he’s much better while doing the less. Though the scene where he teases David Caruso about going on a date is weird. Danner’s part is to go off, do work, find results, bring them to Caruso, which ends up being better than Rebecca Rigg, who just sits around with Caruso and spit-balls because she’s the only person smarter than him.

The episode’s a riff on Ransom (the remake not original) with dirtbag FBI agent (dirtbag even for FBI agent, also note how much they code him as working class) Larry Joshua maybe or maybe not framing mail carrier Brad William Henke for a kidnapping of a child. Henke says he rescued the kid on his route, Joshua says he grabbed him and let him go. Henke and his lawyer—a fantastic Amy Aquino—are suing for ten million; Caruso and company are stuck defending Joshua.

The episode doesn’t go full kidnapped child exploitative with the original case, instead contriving a reason to put Caruso’s nephew—Jimmy Galeota, who’s his regular medium grade annoying, nothing more, nothing less—in danger of a child predator. It also tries to show Caruso as the most progressive one in the office about Joshua being a bad cop, though if he’s guilty and Henke’s completely innocent and a real hero, it’s wrong Henke wants damages. Vindication fine; damages no. It’s also unclear what’s supposed to happen to Joshua other than Caruso not having to deal with him. The show’s maybe two steps away from being at least somewhat self-aware. There are a lot of “it was still the nineties” caveats, though it would’ve certainly been better on dirtbag FBI agents than TV would be for years to come. It’s pre-9/11, after all.

Galeota’s got a subplot about loan sharks showing up looking for dad David Cubitt, who shows up for a couple scenes for the first time in a while. Mary B. Ward’s got a couple too. Nothing much of consequence happens in either of them, except Caruso letting Cubitt commit three or four crimes in his effort to be a better bad. There’s a magical bad dad toxic masculinity scene where Cubitt implies Galeota’s pride in him is why he’s got to be a criminal and put he and Ward in danger from aforementioned loan sharks.

The script’s a little more sensational and less procedural than it ought to be—its issues are fundamental—but it’s a decent episode. Caruso’s quite good most of the time, especially in his reactions (somewhere the script’s also strong). Even if some of his reactions are reactionary. And Joshua’s a very effective antagonist guest star, which is more important than him being good in an impossible—for numerous reasons—part.