THE efficiently powerful start to this episode – preceded by a special warning from More4 about violence scenes – initially led me to believe we were going to dig deep into US gun policy, so it was initially disappointing to find the case all but wrapped up by the opening credits.
The drawn-out damages squabble did provide further interest and a semi-satisfying conclusion, but mainly felt like an excuse to do down Cary and big up Lucca. How many times now have we heard that bloody question: “Has Diane approved you about making this an all-female firm?” Who even cares at this point?
Not Alicia, that’s for sure. Her mind’s on other things, like getting Peter off the hook for corruption (why? He’s corrupt as hell and she knows it) and giving her boyfriend public handjobs. It’s almost as though the writers are taunting me now, with Alicia and an increasingly ruddy-faced Jason carrying on like teenagers and making kissy noises during serious phone conversations.
Between these scenes and the interminable grand jury trial there’s not really any time left for case-driven special episodes. How many minutes have now been devoted to Eli eavesdropping in the loo? The whole thing has got very old. Shouldn’t Alicia at least consider caring about corruption in the State’s Attorney’s office? And didn’t her surprise responses to the questions from Matthew Morrison’s character reveal that she not only knew what the whole thing was about but also exactly what Peter’s donor had told the jury?
I’ll be annoyed if this episode was Grace’s swansong – yes, of course she’s off to study law, very good, but we’ve come accustomed to seeing her being capable and inspiring, not calling her mother and sitting meekly beside her as she sorts things out. Alicia’s behaviour was so obnoxiously entitled I kind of hoped she would balls things up and Grace would have to quietly bundle her out the door before finding a more diplomatic resolution by herself.
Notes
Perhaps the best thing about this episode was Diane’s red jacket.
I knew Jason couldn’t be trusted, and his explanation sounds like bollocks to me. A good rule for life is to never trust a man who mispronounces “restaurateurs”.
I like how the grand juries are always more on the ball than the lawyers expect.
Shona Craven 