As someone who, in my previous life, was an attorney, I have a hard time watching shows about the legal process and taking them seriously. After all, it can become distracting when you know a character should have objected to a line of questioning – or shouldn’t have been allowed to object to a line of questioning – and then you start yelling at the TV, and then no one wants to keep watching Law and Order with you anymore. It’s a vicious cycle. I suspect this is the case for others who work in professions that tend to get dramatized a lot on television – medicine, psychiatry, the CIA and FBI, politics. Once you know how the sausage is really made, it can be hard to turn that portion of your brain off and enjoy watching a show that is, essentially, about your work. Which is why it was such a shock that I found myself truly enjoying season two of HBO Max’s Perry Mason reboot.
Now, this isn’t your parents’ version of Perry Mason. This series, which stars Matthew Rhys as the titular attorney, presents a Mason who is newer to the legal game, rather dour*, and not always a great guy, but who does, despite all the obstacles thrown in his way, want to do the right thing for his clients. And, unlike the original Mason series, each season follows a single case to its conclusion. But even though we aren’t dealing with an episodic series about a crack-shot defense attorney saving the day, what this new version of Perry Mason does, it does incredibly well: place a deeper focus on the characters at the center of the series and how their own lives interconnect with the overall case of the season.
*Anyone familiar with Rhys’ work from The Americans knows that he’s at the absolute top of the game when it comes to showing us the pain writ large on a character’s face. And boy, does Rhys get to show off his talents this time around with Perry Mason. Lots of pain, suffering, sadness, and frustration to be had throughout all the drama of the series, and Rhys is stellar in making sure we see just how each beat hits Perry. It’s a heck of nuanced performance from one of the best in the biz.
Now, you might have noticed that I’ve mentioned the second season of Perry Mason and not the series as a whole. This is because the initial launch of the series was pretty wobbly. Sure, there were the normal world-building concerns, trying to introduce the audience to this different version of a character they’ve likely at least heard about, if not watched, in the past. But the series didn’t click until season two, which brought more confident writing, character development, and performances from the show’s leading cast (joining Rhys is Juliet Rylance as paralegal Della Street and Chris Chalk as Paul Drake, Mason’s investigator). My advice? Skip season one – there are enough callbacks throughout season two to make sure you know what went down then – and simply dive into the second season. It’s a much richer experience and you won’t have to slog through some uneven writing to get to the goods.
Season two weaves a complex web with a case involving the murder of a scumbag son of a local millionaire, with two Latino brothers seemingly fitted up for the crime. So, you have the clash of money, power, political clout, and racist over and undertones competing in 1930s Los Angeles, where so many are trying to survive amidst the Great Depression. While Mason wants to help save his clients from the hangman’s noose, he also wants to get to the bottom of just what happened that particular morning on the beach – who was responsible for the death of a guy who, really, the world could easily do without? But, naturally, there’s plenty of personal intrigue layered within the story. Mason, a divorced father, is trying to figure out how to make space in his life for his son while continuing to work through the devastation of his previous major case, which brought him positive press but cost him serious emotional bandwidth. Della is working through her own personal quagmire, a closeted woman trying to balance her relationship while playing with fire when a new person crosses her path. And Paul is working through some personal issues of his own while making the transition from cop to private investigator. Lots to juggle, but the writing is so sharp that you rarely see the threads of the story showing as you watch it all unfold – and that’s saying something.
The performances are also exceptional. It’s rare to have a leading duo like Rhys and Rylance, who have a platonic chemistry without dealing with any of the will-they-won’t-they baggage that shows often shackle such pairings with, who bounce seamlessly off one another. It helps that Mason and Della also have a deep bond where they can be honest without angering the other – there’s a trust between the characters that is necessary to allow this relationship to form the foundation of the series. And, if Rylance occasionally has some issues keeping her American accent up to snuff (something Rhys rarely struggles with), well, it can be forgiven as the performance is truly great. While Rhys is often tasked with showing us just how much Mason’s work is costing him through dialogue and performance, Rylance is tasked with being the emotional core of the series. Her Della is whip smart, funny, and often the only person in the room who can understand the emotional costs the central case is taking on its various participants. It’s a great counter to Rhys and Chalk, who get great dramatic beats but are rarely offered the chance to show us all the colors of their characters.
So, if you’re looking for a compelling story with a host of great characters to boot, look no further than Perry Mason. But skip season one and dive into two – you’ll thank me later.
Perry Mason is currently available on HBO Max. All episodes of the first and second season are streaming.
