In a Reinvigorated Season 2, Perry Mason Makes a Gripping Plea for Your Attention
Photo courtesy of HBO
The first season of Perry Mason was something of an awkward start. It was an origin story, with Mason as a private investigator and a depressed World War I veteran who liked lost causes. A dead baby, an affair, and the goings-on of a high-profile church led to a case where Mason had to become a lawyer, eventually ending with both his secretary (and legal scholar) Della Street and new private investigator Paul Drake at his side. It was never bad, with excellent performances all around and fantastic 1930s-era costuming and sets, but the sweeping storyline seemed to meander at times before the satisfying moment when Mason finally ends up in court.
The second season, which wrapped April 24th, manages to hone in on the best elements of the reboot while tightening the scope. With the origin out of the way, Perry Mason can focus on each case, letting the inner workings of Mason (Matthew Rhys) and his team take the forefront. And the season, from new showrunners Michael Begler and Jack Amiel, ends up being one of the tightest shows on air, with movie-quality production design and a layered story tackling major corruption without losing its human focus. It’s gripping and rich and deserves your attention.
This time around, Mason is dealing with a high-profile murder case. Brooks McCutcheon, son of an oil magnate, is shot dead, with two Mexican-American brothers charged with committing the crime. And of course there’s more to it than that. Just as Season 1 was inspired in part by evangelist Amy Semple McPherson, Season 2 draws on real-world Los Angeles history, chief among them the destruction of Chavez Ravine to build Dodger Stadium (here a fictionalized stadium two decades earlier, but with similar events), and the never-fully-solved murder of oil heir Ned Doheny Jr., who had ties to national corruption scandals. While Mason works to find out the truth and argue against the stacked odds, Drake snoops for leads and Della tries to keep the ship afloat with her research. Essentially, it’s a classic Perry Mason story. And it feels right.
The new adventure is definitely less flashy than the first season (it’s hard to top Tatiana Maslany giving an extreme sermon on a Hollywood-esque set in a church) but it’s deeper and perhaps more carefully plotted, with a clearer focus on what aspects of Los Angeles it wants to tackle. It’s equal parts noir, in both visuals and cynical setting, mixed with the kind of righteousness that goes back to the Raymond Burr version of Perry Mason.
Early on in Season 2, District Attorney and team-Mason frenemy Hamilton Burger says that “justice is an illusion,” a sentence Mason ultimately plays with in the finale. But the second season of the show really focused on illusions and double lives, how secrets can bleed out and cross over. Mason is struggling hard with imposter syndrome, both in day-to-day life as a lawyer and from guilt over what happened to his last client once the trial was over. Everyone else is hiding something, but also striving to present what they think is the best possible version of themselves for the city.
But those illusions hide the real divide. Power is concentrated and so many don’t get the benefit of the doubt or hagiography Brooks McCutcheon receives even as his misdeeds come to light. And if the system is that rigged, why bother fighting for justice? Because it still matters. And over the course of its second season of eight episodes, Perry Mason makes a compelling case for that belief. Amid offshore gambling ships, racist radio screeds, blackmail, surveillance, and some key moments of Matthew Rhys being sad, the show at its core has an earnest argument.
That also extends to stronger character work. Without the big spectacle of Season 1, and the origin story complete, there’s more chance for the main characters to grow, with a greater sense of interiority to each performance. Chris Chalk’s Paul Drake has to deal with a loss of control and guilt as he gets tricked by what he saw as a solid work opportunity. Chalk has been a particular highlight of the season, equal parts charismatic and brooding, as the steps he has to take to solve the case start to gnaw at him. Della Street (Juliet Rylance), the legal brains of the operation, finds herself dreaming of bigger things and struggling with what’s safe and what’s exciting, bringing a nice bit of joy to a dark show. Balancing them out is Burger, with his own complicated relationship with Mason and company, elevated by Justin Kirk’s dry humor and his character’s exasperation in the role. The man can do a lot with a dismissive look. And tying it all together is Rhys’ Mason, a man who—for all of his flaws—really does give a damn about right and wrong and fighting for those in need.
It also helps that the show is one of the best-looking series on television. If nothing else, the show is simply gorgeous. Clever camera angles, noirish framing, and cleverly placed title cards make each episode a feast for the eyes. The dedicated use of natural light in so many scenes brings a richness to many of the shots. The period sets and costumes feel lived in. It’s clear the series can only shoot historic buildings from certain angles to avoid modern locations, limiting some exterior scenes, but the crew uses spaces like Los Angeles City Hall to the full extent, giving the series some real texture. The jazzy score only adds to the mood.
It’s not to say the show is without its flaws this time around. Some new characters are more red herrings than anything else, while other threads teased out early on are left unresolved; this from a show whose first season ended with a red herring piece of actual thread. And despite greatly increasing the amount of time Mason is in court, it never quite delivers on the promise of Rhys getting to do the big dramatic legal crescendo. This is not Raymond Burr giving a dramatic showdown with the real killer or mastermind at the climax, which is something of a shame, since Rhys is really compelling in that setting.
Ultimately, the season finale is going to be divisive, mainly for how understated it is. Mason makes a play for real justice and fairness, and it’s more about the steps necessary to get that than him having a big moment to shine. It’s low-key and it works given the arc Rhys acts out. But that understated element is part of why this second season of Perry Mason has been so good. It’s the quiet moments, the ruminations and case building where the show really grew in its sophomore outing.
With everything happening at HBO—err, MAX right now, this show might be doomed to just two seasons. Period shows aren’t cheap and it isn’t as buzzy as Succession or The Last of Us. But it would be a shame to end it here. The team behind Perry Mason have nailed the perfect balance of character work, mystery, and legal drama, and the show is engrossing in its production. Plus, we could all use a little more low-key righteousness in our lives.
Nicholas Slayton is a Los Angeles-based journalist covering film, television and inequality, as well as Contributing Editor at Task & Purpose. You can follow him on Twitter @NSlayton.
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