All Rise (2019) s02e06 – Bounceback

There’s a lot going on with this episode of “All Rise.” In addition to a lot going on in the episode—it rushes through assistant district attorney Wilson Bethel getting stabbed and half the people thinking it was random, the other half thinking it was a warning from the L.A. County Sheriff, who Bethel’s investigating for attempted murder and it’s only a subplot for the first fifteen or so minutes of the episode—but episode writer (and show creator) Greg Spottiswood bites off a lot in terms of social commentary. Most relevant now being about to go on maternity leave judge Simone Missick being upset about the election response. How’s “All Rise” going to handle whatever happens next in the real world?

Because—and it’s a problem the show introduced at the end of last season—eventually all of the characters reach the conclusion they’re not really doing good work as prosecutors or judges and instead getting all aspirational. Last season, before the lockdown affected production, it sure seemed like Bethel was ready to quit D.A.’ing. This episode he seems ready too. And Missick seems ready to give up the robe to do something else too.

Now, these issues immediately resolve themselves because they’ve already got the sets built or whatever and the show is about Missick as a judge. But Spottiswood and the rest of the writers lean hard on the idea someone’s going to give up supporting the painfully obviously corrupt system and do something. Only for it just to be some drama they can turn around after the commercial break.

Though it appears J. Alex Brinson may actually get a subplot about it, which would be cool. Brinson’s only got a few things to do this episode but he does well with them. He’s really getting to be one of the best performances, though some of “Rise”’s problem—in addition to bad subplots and bad supporting casting—is just not sticking with the scene long enough. When Bethel goes off about injustice from this place of desperation, the show shuts it down immediately even though Bethel’s great at the passion.

Even Missick’s freak out about possible judicial misconnect gets rushed through. Ditto Jessica Camacho, whose professional subplot gets scrubbed to resolve a personal one with Lindsay Mendez. The episode’s recap reminder has some of the blowups at the Christmas party last episode—skipping Audrey Corsa being mad at Brinson and Lindsey Gort finding out her new law partner used to get horizontal with beau Bethel—and the Camacho and Mendez thing is really not worth the time. Especially since it’s a regular cast of like ten now.

But then comes what one would think would be the biggest flex… the L.A. County judges strutting into work while Little Green Bag (from Reservoir Dogs) plays. Because… they’re cool sociopaths? I mean, the stuff with Paul McCrane and Peter MacNichol bickering is adorable, but… it’s a strange move if you give it any thought. Especially the police misconduct and corruption angle, not to mention Missick’s potential misconduct.

Anyway. Two final notes. Gort finally tells Bethel why she didn’t want him to take the case about the attempted murderer cop—she thought the cops would kill him. Nice to get that one cleared up and it’s the most likable thing she’s said all season. And then Anne Heche starts what seems to be a recurring part as the lawyer for the accused cop.

Heche is fine but it’s a shallow, simple part and it’d have been better if she’d had some depth instead of just the meanest Karen in the room.

All Rise (2019) s02e05 – The Perils of the Plea

It’s a Christmas episode and a two-parter, which is weird because when we get to the conclusion—which has a miscarriage of justice and most of the cast mad at each other—it doesn’t seem like there’s anywhere for it to go. If “All Rise” manages to roll back said miscarriage of justice, it’ll be impressive because then the show really will be in a legal fantasy land. More so than usual.

The case involves super-sympathetic Isaiah Johnson, who shot a guy and ran away and got busted but it turns out the guy was trying to shoot him and Johnson defended himself but evil D.A. Suzanne Cryer doesn’t care. Like, it’s obvious Johnson was justified, it’s obvious the other guy’s lying, no budging from Cryer. I’m not sure what Cryer’s clip reel looks like from “All Rise” but basically she’s really good at playing an obviously fully invested in white supremacy white woman.

Anyway.

The court is doing its first jury trial since the pandemic and there’s all sorts of issues with the case and eventually thinks go from bad to worse to worse, leaving us with the very predictable, very sad conclusion, which the show then cheapens with the “To Be Continued.”

All the friend fights are a little more amusing, like Jessica Camacho and Lindsay Mendez getting into an entirely ginned up fight, which starts in this episode—and involvers Mendez’s previously mostly forgotten grandparents’ bodega subplot—and it’s real silly. There’s also this fight between Audrey Corsa and J. Alex Brinson, which ought to be compounded with Brinson apparently giving up this season’s “oh, the cops are bad, actually” vibe when he gets the chance to pal around with obviously evil shit sheriff Louis Herthum, who’s only around to low-key threaten Wilson Bethel for investigating lying cops.

But when Corsa wants to make things official with Brinson—upgrading from their friends with benefits relationship—Brinson chokes at the moment of truth. Not great given Camacho is at the Christmas party with hot and heavy new boyfriend Shalim Ortiz and they’re having a great time being a real couple.

At the same Christmas party, Lindsey Gort finally finds out Bethel used to be romantically involved with Gort’s new law partner, Ryan Michelle Bathe, and it throws their evening for a spin. Apparently. Next time they’re onscreen they don’t talk about it, instead working on the “Gort hates Christmas while Bethel loves Christmas” subplot because they’re a Hallmark couple. Fingers crossed after the break Gort’s out and Bathe’s in but Christmas dreams don’t come true.

There’s some nice stuff with L. Scott Caldwell and Simone Missick, with mom Caldwell trying to sway judge Missick on the Johnson case because Caldwell doesn’t really grok Missick’s whole social justice from the bench approach. Probably because Caldwell knows “All Rise” is on CBS and there’s only so far they’re going to go with it. But it’s nice. It’s a real scene for Missick, who otherwise spends the episode waiting for offscreen husband Todd Williams to arrive in L.A.

What’s unclear is if Williams is coming to L.A. as a regular cast member like the previous episode implied—I’m sorry, explicitly stated—or if it’s just a visit, because they dropped that subplot entirely.

The show’s tried hard to do pandemic stuff—them all getting together for a Christmas party is disgusting, however, and they all deserve the Rona—and it’s done all right with some of it. But then they’re always soft resetting from episode to episode. Who knows what’ll be different when it comes back.

To be continued and all.

All Rise (2019) s02e04 – Bad Beat

So the episode synopsis for Bad Beat said something about Lindsey Gort being missing and I got real hopeful she was leaving the show—the cast is way too big anyway and she’s obnoxious—but she gets back pretty quick. Wilson Bethel’s all worried about her but she just went to her place, which she’s been keeping through the pandemic because Bethel’s too good of friends with Simone Missick for Gort to commit to their relationship.

Gort’s worried Bethel’s going to sabotage his career by going after lying cops who framed someone. But it’s okay in the end because not only does Bethel have Steven Williams on his side—Williams gets a major sidekick demotion here—but also now Audrey Corsa. Corsa’s the assistant in the D.A.’s office whose been seeing J. Alex Brinson casually; she hates cops because her family is all cops and they gave her a “get out of jail free” white girl card she apparently used a lot and feels really bad about that privilege.

The episode’s got an interesting take on cops being shitty this episode because it seems like Missick’s finally going to realize her husband, Todd Williams, manipulates, coerces, and psychologically abuses people to get them to work for the FBI, not to mention boss Marg Helgenberger viciously using her position as judge to terrorize the marginalized and scared.

It’s all happy by the end of the episode or whatever but for a while it seems like “All Rise” might actually do some real character development, which would be particularly nice for Missick since her plot line this episode is basically being helpless because she’s pregnant (and tired all the time) and then something something with her impartiality or whatever.

It doesn’t matter. The legalese of “All Rise” is the most disposable thing about the show, which is saying something.

Brinson’s got a not bad subplot about how he doesn’t just want to throw more Black kids in jail. He tries talking to boss Reggie Lee about it, but Lee shuts him down (to later tell Brinson all he had to do was ask to talk to him about it). Jessica Camacho’s part of the Missick and Williams case, which she complicates because she’s waging war on the D.A.’s office. Unfortunately Tom Gallop’s a pretty weak foil as the A.D.A. she’s bickering with.

There’s a subplot about Lindsay Mendez palling around with Helgenberger and hustling the other judges for poker. It’s like they needed to use guest stars Paul McCrane (who also directed) and Peter MacNichol so they got to play in this pointless subplot.

Then there’s Samantha Marie Ware getting involved with Ruthie Ann Miles’s (entirely offscreen) love life problems; it’s almost like they’ve got way too many cast members and nowhere near enough story.

All Rise (2019) s02e03 – Sliding Floors

Despite writer Damani Johnson never having written an “All Rise” before, this episode feels very much like a regular episode. Simone Missick’s not worrying about bringing about Black child into the world, she’s having fun avoiding FaceTime calls with her mom, being a supportive friend to Wilson Bethel (who only needs the support because he’s dating terrible white woman Lindsey Gort—if they’re not planning a full-on Karen episode for her, they need to be), managing her now bickering office staff (more on them in a bit), and trying to put together a baby crib without her husband around.

Even though she says she doesn’t need the husband around to put together the baby crib, spoiler, she apparently does. Because this episode is the furthest from Missick’s as it can be and still have her in it—she does get a mini-pregnancy scare arc, which is a very weird thing and serves more to establish the wholesome nature of the friendships in the Superior Court building than anything else—and, in the end, we basically find out pregnant Missick can’t handle what not pregnant Missick can handle.

Not sure the show’s intentionally making that statement about pregnant women but it’s making it. Though “All Rise” being coy about its politics, capital P, gender, or race ones, is another return to normal.

It’s CBS, after all.

The episode’s yet another soft reset, setting Bethel back on his “maybe cops are bad, actually” arc from the end of last season after the diversion into cop-loving at the beginning of this season because they needed Missick to have a shitty white best friend. It brings in Steven Williams, who’s a pretty good old man sidekick for Bethel, and hopefully gets us to Gort and Bethel breaking up. She storms out on him because he went to Missick for help instead of listening to her low-key white supremacist Barbie take.

Oh, the judge’s office. So, the subplot there is all about tightwad Ruthie Ann Miles having to work with new law clerk Samantha Marie Ware, who’s just too young, Black, and free for Miles’s tastes but not really because it’s more Ware doesn’t do any work.. Miles is the bad guy for expecting Ware to do work. Also Ware’s not good. And then Lindsay Mendez is the third wheel to be a good friend to Ware and a bad friend to Miles? Also Mendez has lost her grandparents losing their shop subplot and her wing-woman to Marg Helgenberger’s e-dating subplot.

It’s almost like the supporting cast is way too big.

The best thing in the episode is J. Alex Brinson’s arc where he discovers no one in the District Attorney’s office gives a shit they railroaded a young black woman into a conviction without taking the time to check into the circumstances of the crime. It’s a disheartening as all hell subplot—not just because they’ll forget it soon enough and Brinson will be back to “Blue Lives Mattering”—but also because it makes Helgenberger into a major villain. Or a mundane major villain.

Jessica Camacho’s also involved in the subplot, but more as support for Brinson. Though she does get to do a “mad as hell” rant, which ought to be better—Pete Chatmon’s direction is wanting.

I’m sure I’m forgetting something but it won’t matter next episode anyway.

There’s also a bunch of group socialization scenes where if you knew this people you’d say they deserved Rona, which is a bit of a change from the last two episodes where they were very careful about it. In fact, Camacho gives her new beau (Shalim Ortiz) shit for not wanting to buck medical guidance and get busy.

But Brinson’s actually great. Hopefully the show won’t fail him but of course it will.

The most consistent thing about “All Rise” is how it inevitably lets its cast down.

All Rise (2019) s02e02 – Keep Ya Head Up

This episode feels more like the first episode post-pilot rather than first episode post-second season premiere. They’re leaning into the social distancing more, but also less masks and more spit shields so you can see the actors acting. And the show’s seemingly more committed to its 2020 direction, with J. Alex Brinson somehow all of a sudden becoming a far better character in his new role as D.A. office flunky. It’s Kimberly A. Harrison’s script. Harrison has some great stuff in the episode, either for lead Simone Missick or, as it turns out, Brinson.

Everyone else has okay enough material—Lindsay Mendez seems to have lost her season two subplot already and is now playing wing-woman to newly virtual dating Marg Helgenberger (the show also brings in Peter MacNichol to make a joke about fifty-somethings e-dating)—but it’s almost like Missick went to the writers room and told them she’d like an Emmy nomination. She’s got some great scenes this episode, even if all the hard questions about racism and good white people end in non sequiturs (most jarringly with Helgenberger but also with Wilson Bethel).

Bethel doesn’t get to have his arc, which is the point, as he’s centering everything about the episode’s big case around himself. Brinson gets the scene telling Bethel what he’s doing—trying to use this case against a racist high schooler attacking protestors with a baseball bat for not being white to be a better white friend to Missick—and it’s a good scene. Harrison writes the hell out of it, Brinson acts the hell out of it.

Harrison had foreshadowed it—not least of all because it seems like Bethel’s FoxNews Blonde girlfriend Lindsey Gort is probably a MAGA Karen underneath it all—another big change in this episode is “All Rise” just pointing out most white people are either actively racist or complicit in it. Hopefully that change’ll stick. Or maybe they could hire better white ladies—the two new regular ones, Gort and Audrey Corsa—are super-bland.

The courtroom judgement scene where Missick has to figure it all out is pretty good and it certainly seems like this new season is just going to be about Missick’s disillusionment with the American “justice” system, which is a legit goal but it’s also CBS so we’ll see.

Some good performances in the supporting cast—Robyn Lively gets the redemptive terrible white parent arc, which is good since Joel Gretsch is one-note as the blandly racist and generally obtuse surfer dad. Samantha Marie Ware is very “eh” as the law clerk, though the writing on the character isn’t any better.

Guest star Ryan Michelle Bathe continues to be one of the show’s primary assets but she’s a guest star and they’ve promoted much lesser characters (with much lesser performers) to regular. “All Rise” seems to have found its—inevitably problematic—niche. It’s definitely more compelling this year. But also de facto a lot more exploitative. In that CBS night-time drama way.

All Rise (2019) s02e01 – A Change Is Gonna Come

“All Rise” had some late first season (no pun) rises the Coronavirus shutdown seemingly stalled or hurt. For example, after witnessing cops lying about assaulting people, D.A. Wilson Bethel seemed ready to leave for the other side—possibly with Ryan Michelle Bathe, a newly introduced third Musketeer for Bethel and Simone Missick. With the Zoom-only season finale, however, it all became about Bethel and annoying girlfriend Lindsey Gort while Bethel seemingly forgetting realizing the cops are bad, actually.

Season two picks up some time after the Zoom-fueled season finale, with Bethel getting a promotion and ready to go in the D.A.’s office, no longer troubled by the fascists he enables, and Missick getting some bad news on the phone. Before they can talk about the bad news, they go out into the George Floyd protests and Missick gets a gun pointed in her face by a white cop and Bethel bootlicks.

I might not be remembering the exact order because there are a lot of flashbacks, but I think all of those events play out before the present action. The present action is four months later and it’s socially distanced Rona courthouse. Earnest public defender Jessica Camacho tells everyone to wear their masks—it’s the fucking cops who aren’t, obviously—and we quickly catch up with the rest of the cast.

At this point, it might’ve first become clear what a boon Rona’s going to be for some television because all of a sudden things have to get more imaginative, not just in plotting, but also the direction. For whatever reason, “All Rise” just seems to work better with people standing far apart.

The show makes a very big swing—a shockingly big swing, big enough I really hope they wrote it before August because it sure looks like they’re doing the Kenosha white boy murderer but toned down to a baseball bat swinging incident. But “All Rise” just came back and end of August is maybe enough time.

So Bethel is prosecuting the case, Missick is hearing the case, Bathe is defending the thug (Tyler Barnhardt), while her partner—Gort—handles the parents, Joel Gretsch and Robyn Lively. Gretsch clearly dislikes the Black women while Lively just seems to be an out-of-it white lady.

Except Missick has been avoiding Bethel for the four months since the protest–we also learn Camacho and boyfriend J. Alex Brinson have been taking a break since that night too—and basically “All Rise,” save Missick, has just become about who’s currently dating who, who used to date who, and why it causes drama and hot goss. Plus as socially progressive content as CBS is going to let them do. They made sure to get a Black woman writer, Denitria Harris-Lawrence, which at least gives it some backbone.

The episode’s got a “not a surprise” surprise with Missick (she’s pregnant and they’re hiding it for most of the episode to the point of cruelty), but also some exceptional dramatic moments for her. She’s outstanding enough to distract from whether “All Rise” really ought to be flexing this hard considering it retconned Bethel to be seemingly unaware of institutionalized racism (his best friends have always been Black women but he apparently never listened to them when they talked about racism) and has brought in Samantha Marie Ware as Missick’s hip, “BLM” law clerk who’s there to remind Missick she’s Black enough even though she’s still a judge.

I am not sure there’s ever a situation where a CBS show is going to be Black enough for Ware’s character, but “All Rise” certainly is not. Like, Ware gets the job because Helgenberger likes the look of her—young, Black, with long dyed braids—and the scene just plays like Helgenberger doesn’t care who gets the job as long as they look edgy? Or, at least, CBS’s version of edgy.

Camacho’s got a good arc. Ruthie Ann Miles is around without much to do, which is fine since they start kind of making fun of her being a Rona prepper. Lindsay Mendez’s a sounding board for Camacho. Audrey Corsa and Gort are in the main cast now but Bathe is still a guest star. Sadly Corsa and Gort don’t add up to even a half Bathe.

But even with the weird character backtracks on Bethel and a contrived script, Missick’s fantastic once she gets to be fantastic and the cliffhanger is decidedly effective.

It would just be nice if “All Rise” didn’t feel like it needed 2020 to find its footing.

All Rise (2019) s01e21 – Dancing at Los Angeles

Dancing at Los Angeles is an admirable effort from “All Rise,” cast and crew, but it’s not a particularly good forty minutes of television. There are a couple big parallels between the episode, a “Coronavirus shelter-at-home” special episode with the cast filming in their homes in character, and the episode content, Simone Missick trying to do a virtual trial. Apparently virtual hearings are a real thing, but not virtual trials (yet).

The defendant on the episode, Mo McRae, has to waive a bunch of rights—he can’t appeal due to procedure—and it’s almost like the show saying, “Hey, it’s the best we can do too and we do need a season finale.”

None of the open storylines get any closure, which is unfortunate (though “All Rise” is “almost renewed” according to the latest post I could find, so maybe). Worse, lots of attention paid to Wilson Bethel’s romance with Lindsey Gort, including some teledildonics, which would be a little much even if Gort weren’t obnoxious. Though she’s admittedly less obnoxious this episode when she’s not trying to ruin some law clerk’s life for smiling at Bethel or whatever.

The episode also puts Bethel in Missick’s “courtroom” for the first time and it’s kind of amazing to see him goof off. The actors all get along too well in the pseudo-Zoom—they don’t even bother making up a name for the video conferencing service, which is kind of nice—for them to be that authentic to their established characters but it’s fine. Everyone gets to be a little cute, to varying degrees of success.

Marg Helgenberger getting drunk and giving Missick shit is a high point, as are any scenes involving Paul McCrane and Peter MacNichol, who the show really ought to make a gay couple next season if it gets renewed.

J. Alex Brinson has the performative story arc of wanting to go down to the jail and work because of all the inmates in danger. Everyone is super concerned about all the inmates. It’s a major Sure, Jan.

Dorian Missick—Simone’s actual husband—guest stars as the DJ everyone’s watching during the pandemic. Wish he’d been a recurring thing all season, it’d fit a lot better. Also wish he was just paying Missick’s husband on the show (Todd Williams shows up to suck the charm out of the show eventually).

Maybe next season, if the show gets one. Missick and Bethel definitely ought to be on better shows but, you know, I’ll still watch “All Rise” for them.

All Rise (2019) s01e20 – Merrily We Ride Along

This episode’s credited writers, Gregory Nelson and Aaron Carter, have written episodes before but they mustn’t have stood out enough I was going to remember the writers. The writing only stands out this episode because there’s a great courtroom scene with Jessica Camacho cross-examining a witness, Rodney To, and catching him up. “All Rise” is a lawyer show without exceptionally good trial lawyering scenes, usually because it’s all about Simone Missick’s judge, but also because the writing’s never particularly smart.

It’s smart this time. It’s very cool. Albeit exactly what you used to get in every episode of “Perry Mason” or whatnot.

Camacho’s case aside—she’s defending a blackout drunk (an effective Jamie Anne Allman) who confessed to a murder she doesn’t remember committing—there’s not a lot of court stuff going on here. Missick’s worried about Camacho’s mental state, but more about her seemingly failing long-distance marriage—the husband doesn’t appear in anything but photos and they’re still a chemistry vacuum in those—and her mom, L. Scott Caldwell, feeling old. So Missick has scenes with Caldwell and dad Brent Jennings. It’s okay… nothing more. And doesn’t feel like a good use of time.

Meanwhile, Wilson Bethel starts the episode going on a police ride along with detective Romeo Brown; Brown wants to show Bethel just how the streets really work. Bethel’s all, “Blue Lives Matter!”, in the first scene with girlfriend Lindsey Gort and the first thing Brown shows him is how he gives comic books to drug dealers for their little brothers or something. But very, yeah, good cops, yeah! Only then Brown assaults some guy and wants Bethel to lie about it so the episode is Bethel trying to work out what he’s going to say in his official statement and seemingly deciding he’s going to quit the D.A.’s office by the end of the episode.

Kind of a bummer because Bethel’s office banter with J. Alex Brinson and Audrey Costa is fun, but also… maybe it’s what the show needs. Bethel’s stagnating. Everyone’s stagnating.

Good direction from Cheryl Dunye this episode, no surprise. Lindsay Mendez gets more of a plot than usual being worried about boyfriend Bret Harrison’s mom, Marg Helgenberger, not wanting them dating. You’d think Helgenberger would be more worried about court reporter Mendez living with defense attorney Camacho and Camacho telling Mendez details of her cases. You’d think it’d also be a problem for Brinson, who works in the D.A.’s office.

But c'est la vie.

There’s better material in the episode than there’s been lately and it certainly doesn’t approach the season lows but… unless they bring on a new show runner, wouldn’t it be better for the show to done in one (season) it and release Missick and Bethel to better projects. Even Camacho, who’s been the most uneven of the four top-billed, could do a lot better than her character arc this season, which has sucked and continues to be a little exploitative even now.

All Rise (2019) s01e19 – In the Fights

I wonder if occurred to the producers they should’ve saved up to license With A Little Help From My Friends for this episode, which is mostly about Jessica Camacho–who started the show getting out of a physically abusive marriage—defending a client accused of assaulting his girlfriend and having major PTSD. The episode starts with Camacho in Enough mode, beating the crap out of a kickboxing bag; she’s been doing for two hours every morning, starting at 5 a.m., and hiding the domestic abuse case from her boyfriend J. Alex Brinson and roommate bestie Lindsay Mendez. Until the episode starts, anyway. She’s going to trial and she’s got to let them know.

Turns out the case has been reassigned to prosecutor Wilson Bethel because the original attorney is out sick and Bethel’s trying to be a friend to Camacho while also trying to convince victim Reina Hardesty to testify. At the start of the episode, we only see Camacho’s client, Robert Adamson, who is super-obviously manipulating and grooming Camacho to the point it’s just a countdown to her kicking his ass when he tries something. But Adamson says he’s innocent and Camacho believes him; she tells everyone she believes him. And Hardesty, therefor, is lying. Hardesty figures in the second half of the episode; she’s great. Adamson’s a convincing creep, but not much else. Hardesty’s actually good.

Meanwhile, Simone Missick’s dealing with relationship drama with husband Todd Williams—her first scene in the episode is establishing the subplot with the flirtatious political fixer and Missick running for attorney general has been dropped like a hot potato, which is a bit of a surprise—and with lawyer Lindsey Gort using Missick’s courtroom to promote her new law firm with Third Musketeer (to Missick and Bethel) Ryan Michelle Bathe and to destroy something beautiful (Bethel’s protege Audrey Corsa). See, Gort and Bethel are dating and things aren’t going great. He’s intrusive, albeit incredibly buff (Bethel gets a big shirtless scene at the beginning of the episode).

And, based on Missick and Bethel’s single confab this episode… they haven’t already retconned out Bethel having a thing for Bathe.

Gort’s profoundly unlikable, to the point it’s rubbing off on Bethel. She’s not bad. She’s just a villain, even though she’s fighting for social justice. It’s very muddled and, unlike the show’s more earnest wide swings this episode, not endearing. Because Gort’s just cruel.

Corsa’s real good this episode. Bethel’s good.

It’s not a great episode for Camacho. Like… it’s real obvious what the show’s doing but it’s also extraordinarily exploitative.

It’s a so-so episode for Missick, who has got to get rid of wet noodle Williams. Though the episode also upstages Missick by giving court clerk Ruthie Ann Miles a martini lunch subplot.

All of its misfires seem imminently avoidable.

There is one fantastic line about how much an abusive partner’s apologies are worth though.

All Rise (2019) s01e18 – The Tale of Three Arraignments

I think I know “All Rise” continuity better than the writers because when they introduce previously unmentioned Third Musketeer Ryan Michelle Bathe (she went to law school with Simone Missick and Wilson Bethel), they bend the backstory about Missick and Bethel knowing each other as kids. Or they don’t completely break it—Missick and Bethel meeting up after undergrad at the same law school could work, though him then (apparently) dating Bathe, who—physical description-wise—is identical to Missick… It has a certain feel to it.

Bathe’s back in town to start a new law firm and she wants both Missick and Bethel to join her. It was their childish law school dream. And both Missick and Bethel are in enough of a state to consider it. Marg Helgenberger’s punishing Missick for not forgiving her white feminism—like, gently punishing, being an obvious jerk but not a Machiavellian villain—and Reggie Lee’s doing something similar to Bethel. Will the Dynamic Duo join forces and become the Terrific Trio?

Only the show never pushes it too hard. “All Rise” is a mostly happy place where Jessica Camacho—who’s got an obnoxious romance subplot with J. Alex Brinson this episode, just exasperating, also has a hashtag Girl Power story arc involving Bathe and now steadily recurring prosecutor Suzanne Cryer. Camancho’s client, Raven Bowens, is being pimped by Greg Tarzan Davis and Camacho wants to do something about it, involving Cryer, but then Davis hires Bathe and Camacho gets her involved. Then Bathe gets Missick involved, who then gets Helgenberger involved and basically it’s a very positive change thanks to women working together moment.

And Bowens is great.

It’s not a great plot and isn’t particularly compelling outside Bowens’s performance and it takes them a while to spotlight her, instead giving it to Camacho in the run-up, but the acting’s solid from the regulars, excellent from Bowens, and there’s a sincerity to it. It’s making the system work for victims.

There’s some more with Missick’s husband, Todd Williams, and the creepy campaign adviser guy, Nicholas Christopher, who apparently Missick’s supposed to have chemistry with but doesn’t because Christopher always seems like a creep. Williams’s got a nothing part; he doesn’t try to showboat it, he just plays it and goes on his way. Christopher tries to showboat and invades the scenes. It’s really weird and unfortunate, as pretty much everything involving Missick and romance is a drag.

She’s much better hanging out with Bathe and Bethel in her off time.

It’s not one of the better episodes, not one of the worse—Bathe’s a fine supporting player to recur… but doesn’t the show have to start worrying about renewal at this point. Oh, episode eighteen… we’re definitely in the renewal pageantry portion of the season—all right, let’s see what they’ve got.