Godless Dave
12-07-2004, 05:09 PM
Fuck you, Dick Wolf.
I wanted to ressurect an earlier thread where Liv quoted a skewering and accurate article about Law & Order. The reason is I saw a 3-part classic episode last night that epitomized everything right and everything wrong about the show I love.
I don't know what season it was but it was when Benjamin Bratt was still on, McCoy was assistant DA, and the other ADA was the woman with short dark hair (the one after Jill Hennesy, I believe).
It started out promising enough. A headless, handless body is found. The only clue to her identity is her breast implants. The cops have it pretty much narrowed down to one person which is confirmed when a homeless guy finds her head. Turns out the victim was a wealthy, influential movie producer.
The plot proceeds like a normal L&O episode, but extended to three hours. The most likely suspect is a black man with prior domestic violence conviction who was having an affair with the white victim - as usual in L&O he turns out not to have done it. Two other intriguing suspects turn up as the cops and the viewers learn more of the backstory. There is a better-than usual subplot involving Bratt's character's family: his wife is (of course) estranged because she feels he neglects his family because of the long, unpredictable hours police detectives work. Connected to this subplot is a romantic interest for Bratt, played by the delicious and talented Lauren Graham. Another subplot concerns the woman ADA's custody battle with her ex-husband, who is lead counsel for one of the defendants and only brought up the custody thing to pressure her off the case. There is well-done, non-preachy commentary on the ruthlessness and vapidity of Hollywood ("I work in an industry where people talk like hippies and act like the Sicilian mob") and the corruption that always comes with huge amounts of money. There is excellent acting by the guest cast members, including a nice performance by Janeane Garafalo.
Finally it comes to the end. A prime suspect is settled on and brought to trial. He is the victim's ex-husband, motivated not by jealousy but anger that she was hampering his movie career. The well-paid defense team (which has 6 people at the defense table) puts on a spirited defense, positing another suspect for the crime. It looks bad for McCoy and company, but he refuses to offer a plea bargain.
Then what does the brilliant defense team do? They do what defense attorneys hardly ever do in real life but always do in TV when the producers want a dramatic finale to a legal drama. They call the witness as a defendant.
Quick aside to those of you not familiar with the American legal system. In the US, a defendant in a criminal case cannot be required to testify at his trial because of the 5th amendment prohibition on putting a defendant in a position where he would have to incriminate himself. That is, the prosecutor is not allowed to call the defendant as a witness. When you call a witness, both sides are allowed to ask questions of that witness. In practice, this means that defense attorneys hardly ever call the defendant because that means the prosecutor can question him, and negates one of the biggest advantages the defense has.
So the defense attorney calls the defendant so he can tell a story about how he blacked out from drugs and woke up next to his wife's dead body, and then hacked it up and disposed of the evidence because he thought he had done it. This was the alternate explanation already offered by the defense. Then it's McCoy's turn to question the defendant. Naturally, he does so in such a way as to manipulate his emotions and get him to indirectly incriminate himself in the crime. Naturally, the jury convicts.
Come on. I'm willing to suspend disbelief enough to accept that New York City would pay to fly two police detectives out to LA just to try to convince a suspect to give a blood sample. I'm willing to accept months' worth of legal proceedings compressed to fit into a TV show. I'm even willing to believe that a man separated from his wife would decline the offer to sleep with Lauren Graham (I wouldn't, but then I don't look like Benjamin Bratt). I let all this go because it wasn't implausible enough to break me out of this intriguing, well-written, excellently-acted story.
But then they have to ruin it all at the end with a hackneyed witness stand "confession" that wouldn't even have been all that convincing to a jury.
If I didn't care about just a smidgeon of realism in my lawyer shows, I'd watch The Practice.
I wanted to ressurect an earlier thread where Liv quoted a skewering and accurate article about Law & Order. The reason is I saw a 3-part classic episode last night that epitomized everything right and everything wrong about the show I love.
I don't know what season it was but it was when Benjamin Bratt was still on, McCoy was assistant DA, and the other ADA was the woman with short dark hair (the one after Jill Hennesy, I believe).
It started out promising enough. A headless, handless body is found. The only clue to her identity is her breast implants. The cops have it pretty much narrowed down to one person which is confirmed when a homeless guy finds her head. Turns out the victim was a wealthy, influential movie producer.
The plot proceeds like a normal L&O episode, but extended to three hours. The most likely suspect is a black man with prior domestic violence conviction who was having an affair with the white victim - as usual in L&O he turns out not to have done it. Two other intriguing suspects turn up as the cops and the viewers learn more of the backstory. There is a better-than usual subplot involving Bratt's character's family: his wife is (of course) estranged because she feels he neglects his family because of the long, unpredictable hours police detectives work. Connected to this subplot is a romantic interest for Bratt, played by the delicious and talented Lauren Graham. Another subplot concerns the woman ADA's custody battle with her ex-husband, who is lead counsel for one of the defendants and only brought up the custody thing to pressure her off the case. There is well-done, non-preachy commentary on the ruthlessness and vapidity of Hollywood ("I work in an industry where people talk like hippies and act like the Sicilian mob") and the corruption that always comes with huge amounts of money. There is excellent acting by the guest cast members, including a nice performance by Janeane Garafalo.
Finally it comes to the end. A prime suspect is settled on and brought to trial. He is the victim's ex-husband, motivated not by jealousy but anger that she was hampering his movie career. The well-paid defense team (which has 6 people at the defense table) puts on a spirited defense, positing another suspect for the crime. It looks bad for McCoy and company, but he refuses to offer a plea bargain.
Then what does the brilliant defense team do? They do what defense attorneys hardly ever do in real life but always do in TV when the producers want a dramatic finale to a legal drama. They call the witness as a defendant.
Quick aside to those of you not familiar with the American legal system. In the US, a defendant in a criminal case cannot be required to testify at his trial because of the 5th amendment prohibition on putting a defendant in a position where he would have to incriminate himself. That is, the prosecutor is not allowed to call the defendant as a witness. When you call a witness, both sides are allowed to ask questions of that witness. In practice, this means that defense attorneys hardly ever call the defendant because that means the prosecutor can question him, and negates one of the biggest advantages the defense has.
So the defense attorney calls the defendant so he can tell a story about how he blacked out from drugs and woke up next to his wife's dead body, and then hacked it up and disposed of the evidence because he thought he had done it. This was the alternate explanation already offered by the defense. Then it's McCoy's turn to question the defendant. Naturally, he does so in such a way as to manipulate his emotions and get him to indirectly incriminate himself in the crime. Naturally, the jury convicts.
Come on. I'm willing to suspend disbelief enough to accept that New York City would pay to fly two police detectives out to LA just to try to convince a suspect to give a blood sample. I'm willing to accept months' worth of legal proceedings compressed to fit into a TV show. I'm even willing to believe that a man separated from his wife would decline the offer to sleep with Lauren Graham (I wouldn't, but then I don't look like Benjamin Bratt). I let all this go because it wasn't implausible enough to break me out of this intriguing, well-written, excellently-acted story.
But then they have to ruin it all at the end with a hackneyed witness stand "confession" that wouldn't even have been all that convincing to a jury.
If I didn't care about just a smidgeon of realism in my lawyer shows, I'd watch The Practice.