All Rise (2019) s02e17 – Yeet

“All Rise” wraps it all up, giving the entire regular cast some closure (save Marg Helgenberger, presumably because they couldn’t book the necessary guest star on short notice). But even Reggie Lee is back—he got suspiciously promoted off the show either last episode or the one before—but he’s just there to say hi. The episode’s definitely a series finale, including a literal wrap party, but it’s not series finale. Some of it is still season finale. Next season seems like it would’ve been about Simone Missick having to defend her seat on the bench.

There’s a really good resolve to the outstanding trial, which has almost the entire regular cast in Missick’s courtroom. Some good yelling banter between them, with Rachel Michelle Bathe really ramping up the animosity, which is simultaneously fun and distracting. It’s now the last episode, no one really cares too much about the trial of the week. Especially when it turns out to be a bit of a MacGuffin.

Maybe there was more to it when it fallout from the trial was going to impact next season, now it’s just distraction.

The most surprising thing about the episode is how much Todd Williams plays into it. He’s the costar, in every scene with Missick outside the courtroom, and it’s an interesting tone. Though while Missick gets the relative spotlight (top-billed, her show, even if she was out with maternity leave for a lot of the season), Wilson Bethel sort of gets to sit at the supporting cast table. Yes, he gets a bit of resolution with Lindsey Gort, but in a rather vague sense. His professional subplot also gets resolve, but it’s anticlimactic.

Worst resolve is for Jessica Camacho and J. Alex Brinson. No spoilers but it’s six anticlimactic endings in a row, without good material for either of them, not even when they try real hard. It’s a weird way for Camacho—who got to be the most active star in “All Rise” in a lot of ways—to exit. And Brinson seems entirely on fumes, even though the opening establishes it as his episode. It’s too bad, especially for Camacho, who did some really good work on the show. Brinson too but he hasn’t gotten the plot line shaft as bad as Camacho lately.

There’s been zero rumors of “All Rise” getting a streaming save, so it seems very done. It never got a fair shake; Rona hit just as it was closing the first season, the combination of Rona and Missick’s having a baby affected season two, the show creator Greg Spottiswood is a racist misogynist who made the behind-the-scenes miserable for his show about a Black lady judge with a social justice bent, not to mention lots of inclusivity. “All Rise” had it rough. It deserved a third season just for getting Rona, not to mention Spottiswood.

I’m going to miss a lot of the cast. And the potential. “All Rise” was all about the sincere potential.

All Rise (2019) s02e16 – Leap of Faith

Once again, “All Rise” seems prepared for change. It’s not going to get change—CBS cancelled the show in between the previous episode airing and this one—but they’re once again primed for it. Everyone’s got something going on for the future, whether it’s Wilson Bethel once again feeling distressed at the D.A.’s office (at the end of last season, pre-Rona, it seemed like he might leave), Simone Missick’s politicking subplot returning, or Reggie Lee straight up leaving the show this episode. Guess he wasn’t going to be back in prospective season three.

But there’s also a lot of character development for Jessica Camacho and J. Alex Brinson (together and separately), which seems very appropriate given it was really their show for a while. Camacho’s got to decide not just between boys Brinson and Shalim Ortiz, but her future as well. Meanwhile, tying into Lee’s departure, Brinson’s probation period in the D.A.’s office is up and he and fellow newbie Audrey Corsa have to decide their futures. I love how they never made the probation thing a plot point—this episode picks up a few weeks after last, with Bethel and Lindsey Gort still on the outs and Lindsay Mendez working towards a plot line away from the courthouse too—but all of a sudden it’s a great deus ex machina for resolving Brinson’s cop who tells story line.

Brinson’s got a somewhat fun arc with Suzanne Cryer—one of the annoying D.A.s, i.e. everyone but Bethel and Lee—this episode. He and Camacho get an okay seemingly farewell scene together, though the show’s leaning hard on the exaggerated time frame since last episode.

There’s a big court case for Missick, involving “the entire tribe,” meaning best friend Bethel prosecuting (guess the “no Bethel in Missick’s courtroom” thing is out with two episodes to go, other best friend Ryan Michelle Bathe and her law partner, Gort, defending one client (the rich one), while Camacho defends the other client (the poor one). Gort’s mad at Bethel for walking out after she tells him she’s married, she’s mad at Bathe for kissing Bethel before the marriage divulge, and then she’s not happy with Missick really because Missick is the one who tattled about the kissing. Todd Williams—as Missick’s husband—is actually around this episode (making you wonder if they really just didn’t have him on the show because there wasn’t room yet added six new characters in the meantime) and he has some fun joking about Missick’s friends and frenemies predicament. Though he and Missick also have some pre-season three drama to get in.

Throw in Marg Helgenberger worried she’s rushing things with girlfriend Amy Acker and Steven Williams finally getting out of the basement to try a case—not to mention the trial case itself is engaging and takes up most of the characters’ times, as they line up new projects (the characters, not the actors)—and it’s a very full episode.

It’s really unfair “All Rise,” which can obviously flex when it needs to flex—this episode’s directed by Denitria Harris-Lawrence, with Lucy Luna and Harris-Lawrence getting the writing credit—not getting a shot at doing it when there’s not Rona and a pregnant lead.

But then of course CBS would cancel them. CBS sucks.

Fingers crossed the finale closes well, but it all of a sudden seems a safe bet.

All Rise (2019) s02e15 – Hear My Voice

So I guess it doesn’t matter if J. Alex Brinson committed a crime—presumably falsifying records is a crime if you’re a cop (though, then again, probably not)—it matters if the D.A. is going to prosecute. No resolution on whether the D.A. (who actually appears this episode—Ian Anthony Dale) is going to prosecute. You’d think they’d have decided before putting Brinson on the stand.

He’s got to go on the stand because Anne Heche is beating Wilson Bethel in the seemingly two-day trial of sheriff Louis Herthum. Heche wears a pink fedora during press conferences, doesn’t mask up, and is generally obnoxious. She screams at Simone Missick about how she defends the good cops so the bad ones don’t just kill all the Black people or something. It’s a very confused scene.

Bethel’s trying the case against Herthum—a season long arc—in Missick’s courtroom, which ought to be a no-no since they’re besties but chief judge Marg Helgenberger doesn’t think it’ll be a problem. There’s some potentially interesting material when Missick’s got to sustain Heche’s objections and Bethel gets pissy about it even though Missick’s clearly laying groundwork to do the same to Heche. It’s not a good trial, partially due to the writing, partially due to the case itself, mostly due to Heche and Herthum not being up to the acting task. Particularly Heche. Herthum fails a Jack Nicholson “You Can’t Handle The Truth!” moment but there’s never a chance he won’t. But Heche is ostensibly a solid stunt cast and she’s just a shallow fascist Barbie. Hat or no hat.

But it’s also not particularly effective because the entire rest of the episode is so much better. Out of nowhere, Audrey Corsa is really good as she tries the child abuse case against Helgenberger’s pal, Ashley Jones. Everyone involved in that storyline—Lindsay Mendez (it was originally her story arc), Nev Sharrel as the kid, Patricia Rae as the judge—is excellent.

Meanwhile, Jessica Camacho spends the day with potential boyfriend Shalim Ortiz—she’s still testing him out against Brinson—helping reunite a family. The daughter (Julianna Mendoza-Behrens) is in ICE detention. It’s a harrowing experience, particularly well-executed, and would be an easy highpoint if it weren’t for Corsa’s case.

It’d have been nice if the script—credited to Felicia Hilario and Elizabeth Brunner—had a better trial for the main plot instead of being rather flippant about the corrupt cop thing (though it improves from the bantering walk and talk sequences where Missick and Bethel, separately, complain about not being able to be pals during the trial to their respective supporting casts), but Corsa’s so much better as a lawyer than a sidekick and they aim real high with the family detention subplot.

Even with the Herthum arc being an inevitable disappointment, “Rise” seems to be finding its second season footing finally. Albeit just as they’re winding down and still not renewed.

All Rise (2019) s02e14 – Caught Up in Circles

Oh, “All Rise” isn’t anywhere near done with the season. For some reason I thought it was going fifteen. It’s going at least seventeen, which means there might be time for it to do something after the trial the cliffhanger sets up.

On the way to the cliffhanger is Simone Missick getting the most to do on the show since before she had her baby; this time she’s hearing a case against her idol, Black woman judge Charlayne Woodard, who does a great guest star turn.

Woodard is on trial for bribing an attorney—a too perfectly scummy Philip Casnoff—and is defending herself, leading to a lot of prickly situations with Missick even before Woodard decides she wants to make a statement in her own defense. It’s a nice way of doing socially distanced character drama without having to get the actors too close—Woodard from the defense table, Missick at the bench (at least until the testifying scene) and it’s easily the best the show’s been in a while. Not a long while, but a while. And it gives Missick something real to do.

The episode opens with Missick and Wilson Bethel getting to have an almost regular hangout scene, coming into work with their coffees before Ruthie Ann Miles herds Bethel out. He’s waiting to hear who’s going to be hearing his case against the sheriff’s department, which the episode drags out into an episode-long subplot just so they can have a cliffhanger. Bethel’s also got some melodrama with girlfriend Lindsey Gort, whose hidden husband subplot finally comes to light (and completely and utterly fizzles while managing to make Bethel seem like a shit).

The B plot has J. Alex Brinson worrying about how he’s hiding he committed a felony and it might all come to light in the immediate future and trying to decide if he thinks white supremacist murderer Douglas Bennett should get out on parole. Boss Reggie Lee is trying to test Black man Brinson’s dedication to restorative justice or something. It’s a decent arc for Brinson—allowing for a few cute professional conversations with Jessica Camacho, who’s otherwise got nothing to do this episode—but it doesn’t play as well as it would if the sword of Damocles weren’t hanging over him, overarching plot-wise.

Then there’s a little bit with Marg Helgenberger and Lindsay Mendez bickering about Helgenberger’s child abusing friend, which is well-intentioned but a little too thin after all the hubbub.

But Woodard’s a great guest and the trial is maybe the most TV legal interesting the show’s been in ages.

All Rise (2019) s02e12 – Chasing Waterfalls

I missed the writing credit at the open so I didn’t know until now Damani Johnson is responsible for the coolest Say Anything reference a fourteen year-old could have made in 1992 before it became exceptionally dated and also the actors involved in the scene were six when Say Anything came out. So “All Rise” continues to target fifty-something Gen-Xers who think they’re thirty-something glamorous (but not too glamorous, but still glamorous) lawyers.

There’s some actual progress on the show, like Todd Williams’s character finally about to move to L.A. from D.C. permanently, something they’ve been discussing on the show since last season and something he seemingly had already done around Christmas. Simone Missick’s almost back at work. She’s back at work enough they don’t have any actual baby scenes, just her and Williams talking about the baby. There’s a fun—enough—subplot about Williams trying to get Wilson Bethel to babysit, which has potential for character development and all sorts of stuff.

But it’s not this episode. It’ll be someday. If CBS renews the show, which is on the bubble, its tenacity getting through Covid and a pregnant then new mom lead not getting an early pickup reward.

There’s also progress on J. Alex Brinson’s subplot about sheriff Louis Herthum being a bad guy only Brinson could never see it because he had to drink the Kool-Aid to survive. The episode’s about Brinson coming to terms with it, but he doesn’t talk to anyone about it—instead we find out Jessica Camacho has, in addition to doing even more work than the rest of the public defenders, gotten a new home self-care regime going because she sleeps three hours a night. Presumably there’s not going to be a speed subplot for her coming up but it wouldn’t be out of place.

Brinson goes to Camacho’s to hide out from the world and his responsibilities, leading to a standoff between Camacho and Audrey Corsa (where, shockingly, Corsa is the sympathetic one), while Camacho does a whole “kissing someone else” arc, which Bethel’s also going through and having his life fall apart for it.

Consistency hasn’t been the keyword this season and continues not to be, including Ruthie Ann Miles’s arc fighting with another court clerk (Tate Ellington) about missing mail. Miles hasn’t had jack to do in a half dozen episodes but is all of a sudden getting a filler subplot, which implies the show’s skipped a lot of what’s been going on with her.

The case this episode is a Russian mob thing. Good performance from star witness Sofia Vassilieva. No one else makes much of an impression, except maybe when judge Marg Helgenberger lets the defendant threaten to murder all the witnesses against him and Helgenberger swears unless he stops she’ll hold him in contempt.

Sure.

I’ve always contended I’ll watch Missick and Bethel in anything but… maybe it’s time to let “All Rise” rest. Or at least to hire a writers with better ideas than Say Anything rips.

All Rise (2019) s02e11 – Forgive Us Our Trespasses

Forgive Us Our Trespasses is the first “All Rise” since producer Warner Bros. fired creator Greg Spottiswood for being too racist and sexist, which doesn’t appear to have any bearing on the episode—unless it’s somehow in the subtext of Peter MacNicol’s arc about appearing to be profoundly biased against a Black defendant but really it’s because he’s got unresolved issues regarding his brother (MacNichol’s brother, not the defendant’s) since childhood, which only Simone Missick (making a return not just via Zoom but also on location three times) can help him resolve. But MacNicol’s arc doesn’t have much in the way of subtext.

The episode doesn’t have much in the way of subtext, with Missick having a mistaken information sitcom faux pas with Amy Gort and new partners Jessica Camacho and Samantha Marie Ware speaking in exposition dumps to one another the whole time, or J. Alex Brinson and Wilson Bethel having some frosty conversations because Brinson’s on a list of suspicious sheriff deputies. It’s all id, all the time this episode. It works for some of the story arcs, doesn’t work for most of them, works for some of the actors, doesn’t work for… well, it doesn’t work for Ware.

What’s weird about Ware and Camacho not clicking is it’s unclear if they don’t click or if they don’t click because of the script or even the direction. Paul McCrane kind of directs the hell out of the episode, but then also doesn’t. His two shots are great, letting the actors (even Ware) experience the other actors’ deliveries and react in time. But all the close-ups feel mawkish. The instincts are good, the results are not. Then again, might just be the way the script works. And also there’s always social distancing so it’s hard to get two shots.

Everyone in the regular cast—save an absent Reggie Lee—gets something to do this episode, to the point I couldn’t remember Audrey Corsa’s character’s name again. And I suppose all Ruthie Ann Miles gets is to send Ware off on her way in the first scene. The episode makes a good case for Ware’s character being the protagonist of the whole show, as she’s now on a presumably multi-episode arc of shadowing different people throughout the building. Unfortunately Ware’s mostly terrible so it’d be terrible but it makes narrative sense.

Anyway, there are subplots like Ryan Michelle Bathe and Wilson Bethel still feeling the shockwaves from their kiss—which has the added context they never actually dated in college and so all the previous flirtations and references to a relationship were just Bathe and Missick teasing Bethel? But then Lindsay Mendez starts a subplot about an abused kid, which turns out just be a craven gotcha for the audience.

“All Rise” is struggling, as it has this entire season, to get through lockdown, to get through Missick’s maternity leave. Can’t help having your creator and show runner be a piece of shit. Fingers crossed they make it, fingers crossed it gets back to being at least a showcase for its many good actors.

Lastly, the cliffhanger with Brinson confronting his cop buddies is terrifying and hopefully the show does right by him after putting him through a hellish arc.

All Rise (2019) s02e10 – Georgia

I can’t remember the last time “All Rise” was as good as this episode, which is a problem since it’s not really “All Rise.” It’s “All Rise 2.0,” with Marg Helgenberger in the lead. Simone Missick doesn’t make any appearances—again, given she’s just given birth during a pandemic, you hope it’s for an okay reason (Missick herself, the character’s just not around). So instead it’s about Helgenberger, having learned from working with a powerful Black woman, trying to do better. At the same time she’s just met a new woman—guest star Amy Acker (the Georgia of the title, so you can see how little it has to do with anything else)—and is experiencing real, complete with a meet cute romance for the first time since the show started. And it’s a lot of fun. It’s also occasionally very cheesy. But Helgenberger’s always been stuck with this “not sure she’s actually a good guy” character on the show and it turns out she’s not just a good guy, she’s striving for it.

Now, Helgenberger is just taking the Missick spot, so Wilson Bethel stills gets his own. Only his also involves girlfriend Lindsey Gort and ex-girlfriend, recently unprompted kiss partner Ryan Michelle Bathe. Plus Gort has her own subplot branching off, involving guest star Ray Wise (yay, Ray Wise!), and needing to talk to Bathe about something very important. The very important is one of the episode’s two cliffhangers and the far more amusing one, even if not exactly promising because Gort’s blah. We shall see.

Poor Jessica Camacho gets her subplot folded into Bethel’s as they end up trying a case against each other about eyewitness identification. Oh, and Helgenberger’s hearing the case, and Acker’s giving the judges a seminar on eyewitness identification and its fallibility. Elizabeth Brunner’s script is really tight; it’s her first credit on the show. I hope she’s back. Though it works because treats Helgenberger as protagonist and everyone else as a very supporting, The idea of emphasizing a character each week until they can film regularly and Missick’s back… not a bad one. Though it’s unclear what next episode will be; “All Rise”’s second season has never found its footing, even with the better episodes.

The case is good too. Camacho’s defending Asian guy Robert Wu in a robbery case; white lady Sarah Levy (Oh, my God, Twy! It’s Twyla!) is shop owner, who’s really sure it was him even if she couldn’t possibly have seen his forehead birthmark because they have security camera footage and why won’t anyone think about how hard it’s been for her! I’m not sure if they were intending for Levy to go Full Karen, but it’s kind of amazing. She’s so good at playing egomaniac she better be careful about getting typecast.

Bethel’s got a C plot bracket about the police corruption stuff, which leads to the other cliffhanger. It’s far less promising, but who knows… maybe “All Rise” has finally figured out its second season.

Big maybe. Also ten episodes in is real late, even with lockdown and a new mom lead.

All Rise (2019) s02e09 – Safe to Fall

I spent the entire episode not being able to remember Lindsay Mendez’s character’s name even though she’s been on since the pilot. But it’s Sara and there’s a Sherri and a Sam and I had to remember a new character’s name—Kearran Giovanni guests as the first chair in Audrey Corsa’s case. Corsa is Sam, by the way. I forgot her name at the beginning too. Seriously, the show’s got ten regular cast members and four recurring characters this episode, plus four more. And no one ever calls Mendez’s character her first name this episode. I’m pretty sure, anyway.

She bonds with recurring guest star Peter MacNicol, who’s the judge this episode. Last episode it was Emil from Robocop, this episode it’s Peter MacNicol because they couldn’t get Emil back? And they’ve got Simone Missick doing only FaceTime calls—which has this added aspect of “should we be worried about Missick, the person, having a baby during Covid and having to try to hold this show together remotely”—though I guess they’re at least giving Jessica Camacho the A plot, which is nice. Just as she was getting good the show pulled the carpet out. This episode she gets a relevant case—defending a Latino family where father Juan Carlos Cantu’s refusal to address mental health issues in the family is nearing a tragic conclusion—and the show tries really hard with it.

The B plot is Wilson Bethel walking around with his shirt off showcasing his bod while ex-girlfriend Ryan Michelle Bathe is crashing at his place. Except she’s crashing there because her law partner is Lindsey Gort, Bethel’s girlfriend. He’s also trying to get Steven Williams to come up out of the basement at the D.A.’s office and try cases again except boss Reggie Lee doesn’t like him. But since they’re all committed to making the D.A.’s office less about institutionalized racism they can all work together. I think Bethel and Missick talk once… an expository recap, but at least the show’s acknowledging they used to be the leads.

Anyway.

Episode writer Lucy Luna’s job is to set things up for when they can all get back to work and there are going to have to be some changes. There have been lots of changes this season so far, with “All Rise” unable to maintain stability between most episodes. When they started, trying to contend with the summer 2020 protests and Covid, “All Rise” got some real credit for trying. It’s fallen apart since. Especially with the Covid stuff. Bathe having a hard time as a single person in lockdown is like… a villainous origin story it turns out. And there’s a chance Missick’s husband has moved to L.A. from Washington D.C., something the show hinted at every episode then entirely dropped.

At least Shalim Ortiz—as Camacho’s dreamy beau—is charming.

I have been of the opinion doing whatever they need to do to get through Season Two and safer at home or whatever but… it’s not looking like the show’s going to be able to keep it together. It appears slapdash, whether it actually is slapdash or not.

Good performances from Cantu and MacNicol help. Gort’s still annoying. Marg Helgenberger has a scene and is fine. J. Alex Brinson is such a dick it seems like he’s on his way out too (Bathe being the other one).

“All Rise” is a forty-three minute CBS drama with eighteen people to track throughout. And they’ve dropped the Black female law clerk who… just got a new subplot about working with the white man to get ahead.

It’s a disaster.

All Rise (2019) s02e08 – Bette Davis Eyes

Relative to “All Rise,” I had some expectations for this episode. It seemed like they’d wrapped up the season’s existing threads last time and were ready, once again, to try to figure out where they’re going. “All Rise” has had Covid—there’s a very meta moment this episode where Jessica Camacho (whose B plot is actually a C plot and she’s just background) complains about her new workload and boss Rebecca Field, who’s really good and should be a regular if only the cast weren’t three times too big, tells her it’s Covid universe and get used to it. The show’s had Covid and a pregnant lead (Simone Missick) to figure out this season, with every episode or two seeming like they’re trying to establish a new normal.

This episode does a little with the new normal but not a lot. For example, we get to see Wilson Bethel in his new new role in the D.A.’s office, which has him doing celebrity cases and not ones where he might have to deal with social injustice apparently. Here he’s prosecuting a movie star, Lesley Ann Warren, for a crime she would’ve committed thirty years before. It seems like it’s going to be a cool Hollywood mystery thing.

It’s not. There’s a mansion at least.

But then we also J. Alex Brinson’s restorative justice in the D.A.’s office subplot getting a big change, but his story arc this episode is just filler. The big change is a last few minutes thing and could’ve just as easily been a first few minutes thing and had actual contributions.

A lot of attention goes to Paul McCrane taking over Missick’s courtroom during her maternity leave and getting on the staff’s nerves, particularly Samantha Marie Ware, who’s only in the job to learn from Missick anyway. It’s maybe Ware’s most effective subplot so far, even if it is only a couple scenes, but nothing goes particularly wrong with them.

Though the show seems to have cut a thing about McCrane being very obviously anti-mask.

Warren’s okay in an extended cameo. Amy Davidson’s decent as her troubled daughter. Tony Denison comes back to ogle Warren, provide a juxtapose on bad parenting (he’s Bethel’s dad), and show off his great hair. Though demoting Lindsey Gort to hanging out with Denison is maybe the best use of her this season. He’s in town to give her potential client ideas, which can’t be done over the phone or email. Also he comes to town from Florida and doesn’t seem to quarantine. It’ll be fine.

“All Rise”’s second season just seems like a treading water marathon. Who knows what they’ll be able to do—or have to do—next.

It does feel like Missick and Camacho are losing their show though. Camacho’s basically just there for “it’s complicated” scenes with ex Brinson (even though it’s her birthday), whereas you do kind of wish they’d just let Missick have some maternity leave. Though when she and Bethel do their exposition banter you can at least remember how the show used to feel.

Oh, and much better music than usual. Who’d have thought in 1991 a U2 song would end up on a CBS drama.

Also—Jere Burns as Warren’s lawyer. He’s just doing his Jere Burns asshole thing but it’s welcome enough.

All Rise (2019) s02e07 – Almost the Meteor

There has to be someone else who notices all the “All Rise” retcons; not just the little ones where it seems like someone’s going to be disgusted with being part of the carceral system but—and here’s a perfect example—the back and forth on whether or not Todd Williams is moving to L.A. to help wife (and ostensible lead) Simone Missick with their new baby.

Last episode she said he was already there and his transfer had come through, two episodes ago he wasn’t there yet, and this episode he’s just there for a bit before he leaves, no talking about the transfer at all. Despite Williams being profoundly useless on the show, this episode is easily his best, even if showcases why the show doesn’t need him. Even with a new baby.

This episode also goes out of its way to close up a bunch of outstanding subplots, like Wilson Bethel vs. lying, shooting civilian cops and Missick trying to find the girl who lost her backpack at the George Floyd protests. At least the Bethel one feels like they decided they couldn’t afford Anne Heche for a guest spot and rushed her out (ditto Williams, who the show seems to be dangling as an almost regular).

The stuff with Bethel and the cops doesn’t really work (mostly because they also drop the main cop villain who’d been around since before Heche) and doesn’t provide Bethel with any actual character development. The show goes out of its way for guest star Gabriel Cordell—the guy shot by the cops—to tell Bethel off about it, which is totally justified but also very strange Bethel thought he’d “done enough.”

The most successful—but no less cloying—story in the episode has J. Alex Brinson trying to get a youthful offender and victim in a healing circle when the victim (Coy Stewart) doesn’t want to testify in court. While it’s way too aspirational and Brinson seems way too naive, Brinson’s really trying with the acting and he’s got excellent support from Jessica Camacho (who’s basically a guest star at this point instead of third lead) and—for maybe the first time—Reggie Lee as his boss. Lee and Brinson click in a way Lee never does with Bethel.

Admittedly, a socially distanced, locked down, lead on maternity leave on the show (Missick), whatever’s going on with guest star budgets… “Rise” is still holding it together but just barely. It’s forgotten how to leverage Missick and Bethel, but has also downgraded Camacho as her acting has improved. For seven episodes into a sophomore season… it’s rough.