This Week on TV: Shiv Roy Wars and "Perry Mason" Finale

1. Can TV Viewers Accept a Real “Reality Show”?

From my first piece on the “Perry Mason” reboot, a recurring theme of mine has been how the show breaks apart the conventional mold of the courtroom drama. Its innovations aren’t forced or arbitrary, though. It was the old conventions that were the artifice: fantasies of justice triumphant, heroes who always knew best, women satisfied to serve them, and a whole lot of stuff shoved in the closet—poverty, racism, non-hetero relationships.

Plenty of more recent tv and movies have burned down those closet-doors, but usually by setting a match to the old buildings and constructing new ones which we imagine are better suited to resonate with our current problems and fantasies. Metaverses. Avatars. Postmodern parodies. Timetravel. Re-imaginings of history in which race and gender are put in new jars and shaken loose.

What “Perry Mason” does is much more straightforward, and for some viewers less entertaining: It doesn’t build a new house, it gives us a tour of the old—but with all that was locked away open to view. You don’t have to travel to the future or an alternative universe in order to deconstruct the troubles of the present; they are right there in our own past, simmering beneath the surface of our sturdy fictional fantasies.

In previous pieces, I’ve discussed all the ways the show upends various expectations, and I hope you don’t mind if I don’t rehearse it all again here but just refer you to those pieces (Subscribe and read them all!!) Today, I want to talk about the finale, which is many ways was the most convention-busting of all—so convention-busting that I worry the show won’t be renewed.

Juliet Rylance, the actress who plays Della Street, describes it as “tied up”, but not “with a nice bow,” in a way that is “right” and “good” but not “comfortable.” She goes on to say that she likes that “because it feels very much like real life.”

I agree. But that “not comfortable” is going to leave some viewers feeling less than satisfied. As several critics have observed, the ending is “quiet.” There’s no rousing courtroom moment in which Perry clinches the jury’s favor—that happened two weeks ago, it was Della’s moment not Perry’s, and it was temporary. Despite our hopes having been raised by the fact that Mateo’s fingerprints were planted on the murder weapon and Della’s brilliant enactment of Brooks McCutcheon’s dangerous sex play, the team doesn’t win the case.

Thanks to Paul and Clara Drake, they know Camilla ordered her servant-man Phipps to arrange the murder. But after Della reveals, hesitatingly, that Hamilton Burger is being blackmailed by Camilla, they realize that they can’t go straight to Burger with the information. They need first to get Ham out from under the threat of exposure. And Judge Durkin is expected to rule the case a mistrial in just eight hours.

Perry, trying to buy time, slides next to the judge as he’s getting his shoes shined and urges him to let the trial continue. At the same time, he offers himself up for “whatever punishment that the court sees fit.” Durkin, pursuaded, lets the trial go forward, which gives Perry, Della, and Paul the time to convince Phipps to retrieve what turn out to be two huge boxes of photos with the potential to blackmail virtually everyone in town. (A condescending, smarmy conversation with Camilla helps to convince Phippsy to give them the whole lot, not just the ones of Burger.)

They give Ham the photos being used against him, but Ham is concerned about the fallout that would follow if he simply withdraws charges against the Gallardo brothers, and makes a “compromise” deal: Charges against Rafael dropped but Mateo (who we find out was the actual shooter) will go to jail for thirty years, no parole. Mateo pleads guilty, and Judge Dworkin sentences him as arranged. Perry gets four months as his “fair and fit” punishment for hiding evidence.

Is justice served, as it always was in the old Perry Mason? Mateo did shoot McCutcheon, but thirty years without parole? And neither Camilla’s role in the murder or the oil scheme behind it has yet to be exposed. (The FBI come to her swimming pool at the very end, but she seems unperturbed; “Have you gentleman eaten?” we hear her asking, as she leads them back to her mansion.) Perhaps all the evil doings will be punished if the show is renewed. But I gather that hasn’t been determined yet, and the very ending isn’t the cliffhanger that usually points toward future revelations in another season. It “puts the pieces together,” as Chris Chalk says in interview. But the result isn’t a beautiful cityscape as might give satisfaction when a jigsaw is finished.

Instead, we are taken through scenes of each character’s less-than-resolved situation: Perry in jail, sticking the picture of him and his son (retrieved from Camilla’s stash) on his wall with a chewed up piece of Beechnut. Rafael working on a painting for art school, with plans to visit Mateo later in prison. Paul Drake about to do some “investigating” for boss man Perkins (the guy who had him beat Ozzie up), who has plans for a park and public pool in the Black section of town and needs to get the goods to put heat on the councilmen standing in his way. And my favorite: Della, Anita, and Ham out for dinner together, Della and Ham still bearding for each other, but with a wink to Anita, promising to introduce Ham to Cary Grant. They look like the only ones having any real fun.

Perry does get a chance, in closing argument, to make a little speech before the jury, in one of the few moments that made me go “ouch” in the show—too “message-y” for my taste. There’s the promise of Yosemite in the fall with Ginny, who we all knew would forgive Perry. And Della, in her deceptively soft voice, gets to tell off Camilla, who pretends it was all about being a good feminist for the sake of those poor women that Brooks abused. She’s a smooth liar, but Della isn’t buying it.

I’ve loved this show from beginning to end. I’m hoping it will be renewed. From all the hints dropped about how Della is “better at it” than Perry (Perry himself says she is the “real star of the trial,”) perhaps if it is renewed they’ve got something in mind that gives her even more of a role (anachronistic, but would be satisfying.) There are certainly plot lines left open to pursue—including the planted fingerprints, which Perry reminds the press when they’re interviewed after the trial. And of course, there’s Camilla, whose “oriental” beauty applications create a visage that brings Hannibal Lector to mind—surely not accidentally. Between this show and “Your Honor,” Hope Davis has had the corner on the season’s creepy villainess market. Will we ever accept her as a nice lady again?

Thanks to Stephanie St. Clair Crissey for these images.

“We did what we had to do. And we did it as best we could,” Perry tells reporters on the steps outside the court building. Not exactly a declaration of victory. Later, schmoozing with Della the night before he goes off to jail, the two talk about justice. The Perry who in his moralistic fervor had earlier been ready to refuse to defend two admitted killers now speaks of the “system.” “Okay,” says Della, “so…what are we supposed to do with that?’

Perry: “We…We fight.”

Della: “Mm-hmm.” (Is there a teeny smirk there?)

Perry: “What?” (what’s that look for?)

Della: “Nothing.”

Of course Della, who has never been able to afford Perry’s privileged outrage, has known about “the system” all along.

Sure hope they both get the chance to continue to fight it.

2. The Shiv Roy Wars

Women are not angels, that goes without saying. But whenever I run across pure undiluted hatred for a woman—you know, the kind that produces phrases like “cold bitch” and “nasty cunt” (and not said affectionately) I know something deeper is going on. I saw it every day when Hillary Clinton was running for President. (I wrote an exhaustively—and exhaustingly—researched book about that election, so I’m kind of familiar with the phenomenon.) Among her enemies (and even among some who were not) Hillary rubbed people the wrong way. Why, you might ask? The reasons people gave rarely had anything to do with her competence. She “thinks too much of herself.” “Too haughty.” “Too controlling.” “Sure wouldn’t want to have her for a wife.” “Why doesn’t she loosen up a little?” “Poor Bill; I don’t blame him for fooling around with a wife like that.”

I tend not to use words like “misogyny”—not because I’m afraid of being seen as a rampaging feminist (which I of course am), but because it’s too imprecise. Women who behave as they are supposed to are not hated. It’s the ones that step out of line—and most importantly, refuse to apologize for it—who stir up the cultural unconscious in unpleasant ways. All the journalists loved Hillary when she got all teary in an Iowa diner after she lost the primary. They weren’t so sympathetic when she refused to apologize for “mishandling” classified emails. She knew she hadn’t done that (as even Comey admitted later) and she wasn’t about to get on her hands and knees and beg forgiveness. Haughty bitch.Who does she think she is?

To judge from the comments of some “Succession” fans, Shiv Roy, while nothing like Hillary, is a woman who stirs up a similar desire to knock her off her perch. I say that fully aware of the fact that Shiv has—to put it mildly—a problem with intimate relationships, A really bad problem. Who wouldn’t with a father and mother such as she has/had? She only feels safe with a man that she can control (unlike Logan) and constantly (and sometimes sadistically) tests the limits of her power. But (like Logan) she also disdains anyone she can control, and is drawn to danger. Depth explorations of her personality aside, this really does make her the Wife From Hell (something HIllary was accused of, with no justification. With Shiv, it’s a pretty fair description.)

But being a lousy partner doesn’t mean she’s lousy at everything else. And in the world of “Succession,” unscrupulous and manipulative behavior is the norm. Yet I haven’t seen anything like a massing of “Ken-haters”—or even “Logan-haters” that’s anything like the stream of Shiv-hate on fan pages. “I can’t tell you how much I hate her.” “She’s absolutely the worst of the lot.” “I have no sympathy for that conniving twat” “And couldn’t she even be bothered to put her hair up properly for Connor’s wedding?”

I guess it’s a testament to the writing—which is indeed brilliant—that the characters come alive so vividly for fans. And I’m certainly not about to defend Shiv’s behavior with Tom. Nor does it need special pleading, in a show full of damaged and damaging people. But what’s been striking me, after the past few episodes and fan reactions to them, is how unwilling the Shiv-haters are to give her an inch—even when her expertise is evident—while continually softening any critiques of the boys with sympathy, or ignoring their bad behavior entirely.

For example, in the episode “Honeymoon States,” when that piece of paper is found in Logan’s safe with Kendall’s name on it, Shiv is the one who first proposes that it may be a strike-through rather than an underlining. People in one fan group got all over her for that—what a miserable betrayal of Kendall! What a self-serving monster!—conventiently ignoring the fact that right after Shiv makes that remark, Roman offers the information that “the thing is old” and reminds everyone that Ken has “tried to put [Logan] in jail, like, twelve times since then.” All three of the kids are ragged and reactive from the day before. And fighting for themselves is almost second-nature to them. But it’s only Shiv who gets called out.

In the same episode, the brothers claim that a tripartite CEO would be “not dry and clean and tough,” “flaky,” and “wonky.” “You actually don’t have experience,.” they declare, ignoring how Shiv cleverly brokered a cease-fire between her father and leftist candidate Gil Eaves. She also cut a deal with Sandi Furness that saved the company when Logan, made nutty by a UTI, is spouting gibberish about a cat under his chair. And she talked a potential witness out of testifying when Waystar is investigated for sexual abuses and cover-ups. (I know, it wasn’t a very sisterly thing to do, but the issue here is Shiv’s competence, not her feminist creds. Like everyone else in the family, political purity is not a concept in her vocabulary.)

At one point, Nan Pierce even refuses to deal with Logan unless Shiv is made his successor. Do the Roy boys not credit that as anything except the sisterhood of the vaginas? (Of course, Logan won’t accept that provision, for reasons that aren’t clear. Personally, I don’t think it’s because he isn’t still considering Shiv at that point, but because he doesn’t want the decision made by anyone but him. Like father, like daughter)

Shiv’s deal-making smarts may not be noticed by Kendall or Roman. But they are definitely considered significant by the writers, who after all put them in the script themselves. In the most recent episode, they also show us the price the bros paid for their underestimation and exclusion of her. Kendall and Roman, unprepared for the Swede’s mastery in their first conversation with him—and used to being dominated by their father, whose superior position Mattson now creepily occupies in the exchange—become unhinged. They had entered the room full of confidence, ready to play the role of Logan, and find that Mattson is far better at it. Plus, Roman is furious at Mattson for being such a shit as to have them come to Norway right after their father’s death.

I get his anger. The Swede is a very weird guy (who also happens to be gorgeous) and he exploited their lack of experience and the terrible timing, just to get them at their most vulnerable. He’s snaky and cold. I also have grown sweet on Roman, who has turned out to be the most empathetic of the lot. When he went into a rage on the mountain, I wanted to hug him. (I always want to hug him.) But in the terms of “the art of the deal” (I choke a bit on those words) Mattson read the situation right. In the house that “Succession” built, the boys were about to do something stupid out of bruised ego and (justified but flailing) anger. And that, as Logan would say, made them “not serious” people to deal with. “Serious” means you don’t make deals from an emotional place. Not from anger, not to get even, not because you feel emasculated by a cruel adversary. The irony: It’s women who are stereotyped as being “hormonal” and emotional.. But in that episode, it’s the boys who are “hormonal,” their testosterone dwindling every moment they are with Mattson.

It’s Shiv who takes stock, gets it together, and does business like a “serious” person. Not by bellowing or having a hissy fit but by getting to know and figuring out who she’s dealing with. And playing to their needs. By being friendly and non-attacking. By being smart. You get smart when you’re consistently shut out. You learn to go in a different door. It really isn’t so hard, most women learn to do it by the time they are teenagers. You listen. You reassure. You don’t judge, even when you begin to suspect you may be talking to a madman. And then you say (not in so many words, but clear ) : “Whatever silly games my brothers play, you should know the end game is money. Give us enough and ignore their bullshit.”

Mattson appears to have listened to her. He even let Karolina and Gerri stay on—exactly the ones that Shiv spoke highly of. And he took her advice that the deal would happen if he threw enough money at them. Some fans have argued he was going to do that anyway. Others have called it a “baby’s advice.”

Do they really regard Shiv as so clueless about the world she’s grown up in as to actually disclose her brothers’ thinking if she didn’t intend it to be a serious play?

Yes, it’s possible that Shiv is being “played” by Mattson, as some people are insisting. Personally, I think he recognizes she’s someone to be reckoned with, and possibly someone to depend on, whereas the boys just play the usual boy games (Kendall) or fall apart (Roman.) That doesn’t mean Mattson isn’t also playing her. But she is playing him too, and between Mattson and Shiv, it isn’t the macho zero-sum game the brothers turned it into. (“Let’s just take off our gloves and see whose the better man here.”) With Shiv and Mattson, they both got what they wanted. For the time being anyway.

Score a big one for Shiv, right?

The Shiv-haters just won’t give it to her. And they can get pretty trivial when they go after her. She was criticized for not arranging her hair properly for Connor’s wedding. Now she’s being scolded for endangering her fetus by taking a sniff of coke (which she actually only pretended to do) and a sip of wine while the boys are off planning without her. What kind of woman would do that? And if you dare to point out the numerous betrayals of her that her father (and more recently, her brothers) are responsible for, they’ve always got something “worse” in their pockets to fling at her.

It’s only a television show, I know.

It’s only the darker corners of our cultural psyche.