2 hours ago
2
Matlock is an almost complete reimagining of the 1980s US legal series, though it does pay tribute to its origins in multiple ways. Those expecting another straightforward drama about lawyers will find that those expectations are largely met during the first episode. But be forewarned: eventually it begins to defy expectations.
To say more would be to build anticipation unnecessarily – spoiler alert, Kathy Bates does not turn out to be an alien – but as you amble through familiar territory, you are actually wandering towards a more substantial, more intriguing proposition. It doesn’t reinvent the legal drama, but there’s enough twisting and turning to ensure that it isn’t quite all it appears to be.
Even in its early legal-lite incarnation, though, it’s enjoyable enough. Bates plays Madeline “Matty” Matlock, a 75-year-old woman who says she has not worked as a lawyer since 1991. Family issues have compelled her to return to an industry that is much changed and, after 30 years away, there is a lot of new information to learn, despite her claims that she has “remained pretty nearly up to date”. When she inveigles her way into a job at a top law firm, she immediately proves she is much more of an asset than a burden. She is clever, quick, tenacious and has a habit of spotting details that the younger attorneys around her have let pass them by.
Much of this is down to Matty’s age. As an older woman with grey hair and a rootsy southern accent, she is perpetually underestimated. “Nobody sees us coming,” she explains to her new employers. This means that she can eavesdrop, blag her way into buildings and win the confidence of strangers who are incapable of seeing her as a threat. Once again, this is a more layered premise than Bates’s harmless-old-lady shtick initially suggests it will be. She hands out boiled sweets, fakes emphysema and generally employs a mixed bag of tricks to get her own way – from bare-faced lying to the odd spark of genuine compassion. As the episodes progress, we are drip-fed more information about Matty’s life outside her rebound fling with law and her reasons for getting back to business.
The show is a perfect vehicle for Bates, who is convincing in every iteration of her character’s complicated personality. With the exception of regular appearances in American Horror Story, Bates hasn’t in recent years been given the roles an actor of her calibre deserves. But this places her front and centre. She is supported by a capable cast, including Jason Ritter and Skye P Marshall as her divorcing superiors, Julian and Olympia, with Beau Bridges as the boss and owner of the law firm, who also happens to be Julian’s father. If, in the pilot, Bridges seems a little stilted (he looks as if he dropped in while everyone else was out for coffee), a quick search reveals that the part was recast. He loosens up considerably when he finally joins the fold.
Like Elsbeth, another new-ish legal drama with bite, this follows a case-of-the-week format, but has a meatier overarching narrative arc in the background. The legal firm where Matty lands is taking more of an interest in social justice issues, not because it makes their dollar-grabbing consciences feel clearer, but because they suspect it will enhance the brand and thus allow them to rake in even more of the cash everyone keeps drooling over. (A small aside: watching Bates say: “I need to make it rain,” is a surprisingly stirring experience.)
Perhaps it’s cultural, or maybe age-related, but watching this show makes me wonder if the original Matlock had more impact in the US than it did in the UK. This one leans on a certain familiarity with the parent series and uses it as a direct point of reference. When Matty introduces herself, she explains that her name is “like the old TV show” and she explains what that is to new clients and colleagues. It does, however, have the good grace to acknowledge that some of its younger characters don’t have a clue; they’ve never even heard of Cheers.
Still, it doesn’t labour the generation gap, other than allowing Matty to use her invisibility as a superpower. Instead, it morphs into a mystery that touches on corporate greed and human suffering. Not what you’d expect from the pilot, but it is worth a closer look.
