As Chicago’s deputy district attorney, Rusty pitted his legal acumen against people accused of crimes most heinous. He and his team would settle behind the prosecutor’s table, call forth witnesses and, step by step, build a road that pointed directly to jail.

But now, he’s sitting behind the other table—the one for those accused crimes most heinous.

I didn’t kill her! He says. But the prosecutors don’t believe him. Perhaps they don’t even care. And if Rusty and his lawyers aren’t careful, the former deputy district attorney may find himself with a new home: The penitentiary.

Habeas Corpses

Let’s be transparent: Even if Rusty didn’t kill Carolyn Polhemus, he’s not exactly innocent. Carolyn was Rusty’s trusted co-worker, friend and, ultimately, lover. The torrid affair went on for, well, far too long.

Rusty’s wife learned about the affair and their marriage survived, just barely. But Rusty’s boss, District Attorney Raymond Horgan, knew nothing about it. So when Carolyn was murdered–and with Raymond locked in a bitter election battle–the D.A. assigned Rusty, his best attorney, to the case. Rusty, despite the obvious conflict of interest, accepted—and then tried to hide any evidence that might link him to the crime.

Well, Raymond lost re-election, and now the case is in the hands of the new D.A.—Rusty’s longtime rival, Nico Della Guardia. All that evidence is trickling into view, and Della Guardia’s own lieutenant, Tommy Molto, would love nothing more than to send Rusty to prison.

And Rusty gets it. The one-time deputy district attorney knows just how vulnerable Rusty, the alleged murder, would be in court. He knows how all those texts look—texts sent the day of the murder. He knows how incriminating the physical evidence is. He knows how he’d work the jury if he was working the case.

But now, sitting at that other table, he knows something else: He knows whether he killed Carolyn. And no one else—not Tommy, not Barbara, not even the Apple TV+ audience—does. Now it’s up to the legal system to ferret out the truth, too.

Miranda Wrongs

Presumed Innocent, based on the bestselling 1987 book by Scott Turow, is a compelling crime and legal whodunit—this time featuring the always-interesting Jake Gyllenhaal in its pivotal role. (It was also the subject of a 1990 movie starring Harrison Ford.)

But while this Apple TV+ limited series features strong performances and an engrossing plot, it’s just plain gross in other ways.

Remember, this story is predicated on acts of lurid sex and horrific violence, and Presumed Innocent is guilty of showing us plenty of both.

We don’t just hear about Rusty’s affair with Carolyn; we see it—frequently. The show stresses how passionate and aggressive the couple’s physical interactions were. And while Presumed Innocent avoids showing the most critical of body parts, it has no such qualms about wholesale skin exposure, including naked rear ends.

The aftermath is just as discomforting. Carolyn was killed by a blow to the head. And even before that killing stroke, her last moments seem to have been pretty appalling. When Rusty first arrives on the crime scene, a co-worker tells him, “You don’t want to go in there. It’s bad.” But no one makes any attempt to stop the Apple TV+ cameras from entering and scanning the corpse with close, clinical glee. While we don’t see the murder itself at this early juncture—obviously, the show aims to make us wonder if Rusty is guilty or not—its aftermath is seen repeatedly and, if you ask this reviewer, gratuitously.

And the language? Well, it fits right in with the rest of it.

Presumed Innocent takes us into a tawdry and terrible story and plays it out on screen. And while the show seeks to keep us guessing over Rusty’s guilt or innocence, we can pass verdict on the show itself. And the evidence is right in front of our faces.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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What, another X-Files reboot?

Not exactly. Aliens aren’t in the offing in CBS’ Evil. And our main characters work for the Catholic Church.

IN FULL POSSESSION

David Acosta is a priest in training, hired by the Vatican to cull its backlog of potentially supernatural cases. Does John Doe really need an exorcist, or just a good psychotherapist? Is this startling event really a miracle, or just a clever fraud? The Catholic Church gets, well, legions of requests for investigation and intervention, but it can’t send out fully trained exorcists to check out all of them. So David goes out in their stead to discern which cases really deserve the Church’s attention—and which should be turned over to, say, the local police.

Dr. Kristen Bouchard doesn’t buy into miracles or demonic possession. She’s a psychologist, you see, and a lapsed Catholic to boot. The only demons she’s sure about are those we manufacture ourselves. And while Kristen might seem like an odd choice to work for the Catholic Church, David relies on her expertise. “The problem with my job is that possession looks a lot like insanity,” he tells her. “And insanity looks a lot like possession.”

Kristen may not believe, in the strictest sense, but she finds the work interesting. Plus, it pays the bills. She’s got four little girls to take care of and a mountain of student loans to repay—not to mention a husband who is frequently away. She’ll take on the occasional possession case if it means she can also keep possession of her house.

The team is rounded out by an uber-scientific investigator named Ben. While David and Kristen explore a subject’s mind, Ben taps around the environment. Are those weird, whispering noises a sign of a haunting—or just faulty pipes? Ben’s the guy to ask (though, admittedly, he always thinks the answer is “the pipes”).

But while the trio may not agree on the source of these strange manifestations they investigate, they do agree what they’re fighting: evil. Pure evil, embodied (at least at first) by the oily Leland Townsend. He, along with dozens of horrible helpmates, stirs up trouble on social media and plays into the worst instincts of the society’s most vulnerable and estranged. Is he merely psychotic? Or does he answer to a more infernal boss?

By Season Four, Leland’s still hanging around and causing trouble (as any character played by Michael Emerson is wont to do). And this time, he’s picked up some predatory tendencies. He’s managed to steal and fertilize one of Kristen’s own eggs in hopes that he’ll be the one to bring about the antichrist. According to Leland in Season Four’s premiere episode, the baby’s due in 38 days—a number which coincides both with a prophecy David received from an angel regarding the end of the world and the opening of a nearby particle accelerator…

TOUCHED BY … A DEVIL?

While most networks run screaming from the subject of religion as if it was that little girl from The Exorcist, CBS—the same network that hit paydirt with Touched by an Angel—has shown a willingness to grapple with faith in recent years. And though it was once in a thoughtful way, later seasons (now streaming exclusively on the CBS-related Paramount+) suggests that the directors have traded its respectful roots for absurd and irreverent sensationalism.

Evil, created by The Good Wife’s brain trust of Robert and Michelle King and starring Westworld’s Katja Herbers and Luke Cage’s Mike Colter, may have been its most ambitious foray into faith yet. But with its move to Paramount+ in Season Two, the show has since pushed not only pushed the envelope, but it has burned it to a crisp.

Robert King is Catholic. Wife Michelle describes herself as a secular Jew. “Our intent has always been to have religion front and center in the show. That’s the appeal of it,” Michelle told The Federalist. “The other thing that’s important to me is that we show characters with very different points of view who are willing to discuss these things and listen to each other in a respectful way. Right now, there is a lot of violent disagreement in the world and not a lot of listening with respect.”

Though the characters are indeed respectful of one another, by Season Three, the show lacks that respect for faith—particularly the Catholic Church. Even the show’s priests themselves often show a disdain or disbelief for Catholic orthodoxy. Naturally, the show has questionable bits of content as a result.

Whenever you’re dealing with demonic possession and exorcisms, things can take a turn to the scary … and sometimes the bloody. While not every episode features red stuff dripping and spurting about, it’s completely dependent on what supernatural mystery the team’s exploring in each given week. Sex, too, can be an uncomfortable plot point—in fact, it’s the central focus for the first episode of Season 3, where we uncomfortably watch David have sex with a demonic entity (one who continues to make appearances in Season Four, too). That’s not to mention that David, in order to foster a connection with God, has been known to take psychotropic substances to, ahem, encourage visions—a practice rather outside Catholic orthodoxy. We should note, too, that Kristen flat-out murdered a guy in the first season (the work of her own demonic possession). Sure, the victim was a serial killer who promised to slay Kristen’s daughters, but the act still remains.

And while the first season stayed well within the limits of network broadcast standards, later seasons show no such constraints. Like a possessed girl who breaks her bonds, Evil is pretty unfettered these days. Violence and gore isn’t unusual. Sexual allusions are more crass and more graphic. And as if to make sure everyone knows that Evil’s not on CBS anymore, harsher profanities—including the f-word—pop up much more frequently, sounding wholly inappropriate and vaguely ludicrous in the show’s procedural context.

Generally, evil is something you’d try to stay away from. And many folks will likely want to give Paramount+’s Evil a wide berth, too.

(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)

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Abby has just moved to Manhattan to be the judge for night court. She’s not a saint, but she’s about as cheerful and optimistic as one. She learned everything she knows from her father, the late Harry Stone, who was a judge in the very court where Abby now sits. And she’s ready to get her nighttime hands dirty. 

But on her first day, her public defender quits. So Abby asks her father’s former prosecutor, Dan Fielding, to dust off his suits and join her in court as the new public defender. Dan initially says no. After all, he has no interest in coming out of his semi-retirement. But a trip to his old stomping grounds has him rethinking his life. And if anyone could make Dan believe that he’s still got what it takes to defend a few cases in this very trying environment, it’s Abby. 

A Night To Remember 

It’s never too late to teach an old show new tricks, at least not according to NBC’s reboot of Night Court. A show that originally aired in the mid-80s, Night Court focused on the quirky, fun-loving judge Stone and his prosecutor, Dan Fielding (a role for which actor John Laroquette won four Emmys). 

In this reboot, Laroquette is back as Dan Fielding, and working alongside Harry’s daughter. But the rest of the cast is new. Judge Abby’s crew includes Dan as the pessimistic, crotchety new public defender; Olivia Moore as the narcissistic, judgmental district attorney; and Donna ‘Gurgs’ Gurganous as the court’s silly, easily perplexed bailiff. 

As with many NBC shows, this one seems to find its footing on slapstick humor, laugh tracks and objectionable content that ranges from sexual jokes and mild profanity to heartfelt moments and the occasional sweet spot. And Season Two opens by bringing back another character from the original: Roz the bailiff, who (in keeping with the actress’ own recent coming out) has come out as gay and is engaged to another woman.   

I’d like to say that there’s wit and charm here like the original, but I haven’t found much. The writing is weak, and the laugh track, though annoying, is sometimes necessary to cue the audience when to chuckle. But even so, we still find some sweet moments. 

The heart of this show seems to be found in Dan. He’s suffered a lot of loss in his life and genuinely dislikes people. But now he must work to see the best in people as a public defender, instead of his former work as a prosecutor. 

And then of course there’s the eternally optimistic Abby who says of people that “it’s hard not to like them when you know what’s going on underneath.” 

And while that sentiment is lovely, it may not be enough for families who want more depth and less profanity and off-putting humor.

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She played sports. She hung out with friends. She loved her parents. 

But when she turned 15, everything changed. 

Stella attended a sports camp that summer, where she found plenty of competition, tons of fun, and an attractive, older assistant coach by the name of Robin.  

After an evening of swimming together, Stella and Robin made their way to a secluded shack. And although Stella liked Robin, she had no intention of sleeping with him. Robin had other plans. 

On the way home from camp, Stella told her father that Robin had raped her. 

Her father, a pastor, wanted to press charges. Her mother, a successful defense attorney, told him that these cases never favor young women. It was pointless to go to the police, she argued. Stella cried. 

Now, four years later, 19-year-old Stella and her parents try to pretend like nothing ever happened. 

Yet, it’s impossible to ignore trauma. It forces you to take notice, everywhere you turn. 

Take Stella for example. She barely completed high school, has no desire to go to college and wants to travel the world to escape. 

Until she meets a guy on the night of her birthday–a charming, handsome, cultured older man named Christoffer Olsen. 

On the surface, Christoffer is everything that Stella has ever wanted. He is intrigued by her, he is patient and he respects her boundaries. 

What could go wrong? 

That’s the question Stella’s parents ask themselves when they hear that Stella has been arrested and will be tried for murder. 

The murder of Christoffer Olsen. 

Dark Secrets They Don’t Tell

Love. Murder. Jealousy. 

Netflix’s Swedish-language miniseries, A Nearly Normal Family, has it all. 

This TV-MA show, based on the bestselling novel of the same name by Swedish author M.T. Edvardsson, intertwines law, love, loss and death. 

It’s part thriller, part murder-mystery, part drama, and it walks viewers through how the life of each member of Stella’s family has disintegrated since her sexual assault. 

Stella feels disconnected, lacks motivation and blames herself for the horror that happened to her as a teenager. Her mother, Ulrika, has become an alcoholic who cheats on her husband to find comfort in a decision that has haunted her. Stella’s father, Adam, is overly protective of Stella and has shrunk away from his wife and daughter over the years, in shame.

This complex series also examines the lives of others in Stella’s orbit, including her best friend, Amina. It psychoanalyzes the decisions made by the main characters and even asks how things would have been different had Stella’s parents pressed charges when she was a teen. 

But the majority of the series takes place in the present. And the present is grim and full of content issues you need to know about.  

At the beginning, a scene includes rape. While it’s not as graphic as it could be, it’s enough to wince at, and it will certainly be triggering for those who have experienced sexual assault. 

We also hear a lot of discussion about women suffering sexual assault, including men drugging women and raping them. The show comes with plenty of sexual innuendo, references to sexual acts and–in one scene–Stella is completely nude, we see her from the torso up. A graphic sexual scene includes Stella’s mother and the man with whom she’s having an affair. 

In one scene, Stella goes to a nightclub filled with pole dancers and men in drag, and many people drink alcohol and dance. 

There is, of course, violence, along with some harsh profanity scattered throughout a few episodes. 

This series has most certainly been given its TV-MA rating for good reason. And just because it’s one of Netflix’s most popular shows, that doesn’t mean it’s something that’s suitable for you or your family.

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When she was a child, Gabi was kidnapped and kept in a basement–serving as a sort of slave for a man she only knew as Sir. 

One day, an 8-year-old girl named Lacey joined her in that basement of horrors. Gabi knew she had to protect Lacey. And at the opportune moment, she did just that: Gabi beat their kidnapper with a cast-iron skillet and she and Lacey ran for their lives. 

That was years ago, but the authorities never found her kidnapper. And the memories of her time in that basement still haunt her. Still, she’s trying to turn the evil that happened to her into good. 

Which is why she now runs her crisis management firm as a recovery specialist, working alongside her team to find those who have fallen through the cracks and return them safely to their homes. 

Gabi is the team lead–the brains of the operation. She uses her traumatic kidnapping, tenacity and, yes, desire for revenge to bring evildoers to justice and save vulnerable people. 

Lacey, the same girl who shared that basement with Gabi, now works for her as a sharp-witted lawyer, specializing in helping Gabi stay out of jail when her zeal for justice crosses the line of legality. 

Margaret Reed holds the office’s superpower: acute attention to detail. She honed that skill when her own son went missing when he was a boy. And it’s something she’s mastered to clue in on key details others miss.

Zeke Wallace is the agoraphobic tech expert who uses his computer skills to track down the enemy … from the safety of his own space. 

Dhan Rana is a fellow detective, pulling from his own traumatic past that included abduction, to help his team. 

And, finally, Mark Trent is a police officer who helps Gabi and her team. He knows Gabi’s doing good work, and he wants to brings perpetrators to justice, too. But he may also help because of his feelings for Gabi.

This team is unbeatable. And although the media can’t seem to get enough of these vigilantes, their behavior and one-step-ahead-of-the-law luck drives the cops crazy. 

If only it were luck. 

See, Gabi has a secret: She’s hiding her childhood kidnapper hostage in her basement. And the only way he’ll stay alive is if he helps her uncover each demented case from the perspective of a psychopath.  

They’re Either Lost or Found 

NBC’s show Found is sort of like the psycho-thriller Secret in Their Eyes, featuring Julia Roberts and Nicole Kidman. But it focuses on minority and underrepresented groups and is less demented in some ways and, so far, less graphic.

I read a lot of reviews on this show, with many critics calling it “shallow” and saying that it makes light of trauma. And to a degree it does. Yet, it presents horrific acts and nightmarish scenarios in a way that’s … digestible? 

That’s not something I could say for Secret in Their Eyes when I saw it for the first time. I was horrified and I can still recall specific details I’d rather forget. 

This show likely won’t get to that point because of its TV-14 rating and network standards keeping it just a wee bit less problematic. And for that, I’m thankful. 

Still, it’s filled with fast-paced issues. 

There’s mild violence that hints at further violence to come. There’s some smattered profanity, and characters wear revealing outfits that are typically used for undercover operations. Gabi mentions that her next case involves a trans woman. There’s also the potential for Gabi’s horrific past to reveal sexual abuse. 

And perhaps the most disturbing elements of all are the details of the kidnappings (which will vary per episode, driving this show) and the fact that a man is kept chained in Gabi’s basement–offering his demented advice to find victims. 

Clearly, that disregard for the law is a big problem. But Gabi is a strong leader who cares for those who have been through trauma, including her staff. She believes in people and encourages them to work until there is a positive resolution. 

Thankfully there’s resolution for one case at the end of the first episode. But who’s to say that will keep? We know in real life that is, dishearteningly, not always the case.

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Fortunately for Trevor, however, is that a mere 10 days before his murder, Jerry filed a motion with the court to transfer his entire legal practice into the hands of Mickey Haller—one of the best attorneys around. And though Mickey hasn’t worked a case since his surfing accident, he’s primed to get back into the business.

But the case is a big one, and Mickey will be taking a lot of risks in order to defend Trevor. For one thing, the evidence implicating the gaming magnate is pretty solid. And as we mentioned before, Trevor’s last lawyer was murdered and had his laptop stolen, so it’s extremely likely that whoever initiated that killing will be looking for Mickey, too.

It’s likely that the outcome of Trevor’s case will cement whether Mickey truly is the best of the best—and whether he lives to stick it on his business cards.

The Right to Remain Dramatic

Well, Mickey is as good as they say, which is why Trevor is acquitted by the end of Season One—even though Mickey learned that the man was guilty of the crime. But it was a short-lived victory for Trevor, who took a fatal bullet to the chest from a vigilante not long after.

Regardless, the notoriety of the case propelled Mickey into stardom. Hopeful clients wait on hold for him. He’s the talk of the town; one magazine even calls him “L.A.’s Hottest Defense Attorney.” And some say that the fame is starting to get to Mickey’s head a bit.

But one case just might knock him down a peg or two—namely, the one concerning Jesús Menendez.

In Season One, Mickey finally got Jesús released from prison after he was wrongly convicted of murder. But in Season Two, he’s being investigated once more for the same crime. Since his first conviction was vacated, he can be charged again.

But Mickey knows that Jesús didn’t do it; after all, he’s got a description of the man who did, and Mickey’s looking for him to finally close this case.

And that man may just be closer than Mickey realizes.

What is a “Yute?”

Michael Connelly’s Lincoln Lawyer book series follows Los Angeles attorney Mickey Haller—the Lincoln Lawyer himself, named such for working out of his Lincoln Town Car. Through his many books, Connelly engages his readers with Haller’s clever escapades as he navigates complex legal battles and dangerous ne’er-do-wells.

In 2011, Connelly’s first novel (by which the series gets its name) was turned into a movie starring Matthew McConaughey and Marisa Tomei.

Like its cinematic counterpart, Netflix’s The Lincoln Lawyer dives straight into the murky waters that only the best of lawyers—Mickey Haller included—can safely navigate. Mickey isn’t afraid to work as many angles as he can in order to ensure his clients get off with little more than a warning wag of the finger. And though his methods aren’t always conventional (and occasionally morally dubious), no one can say he never put up a fight for his defendants—even if those fights are literally life-and-death.

Of course, that’ll mean that we, the viewers, also have to join him as he wades through the dangers of his profession.

Violence is not uncommon. People are shot dead, and partially nude corpses are also seen. Harsh language is commonly used, and drugs are often referenced. Additionally, Mickey’s assistant, Izzy, is a lesbian.

The Lincoln Lawyer brings us right into the middle of Mickey’s climb back into prominence following a traumatic surfing accident. The middle of this Netflix series, however, may provide enough content concerns for some parents to preemptively draw their own guilty verdict beyond a reasonable doubt.

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Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard it before. All the evidence piles up against someone, and they have the audacity to claim that they’re “not guilty.” We smirk at the claims when we hear them—of course they did it! Who do they think they’re fooling?

Except, sometimes, they genuinely did not do it. Sure, they might’ve done something, but something illegal? Maybe, maybe not. And, in Accused, it’ll be up to the court to decide if such is the case for the subject of each episode.

Fox’s Accused is an anthology series following the fictional stories of “ordinary people getting caught up in extraordinary situations.” They’re not the kind of people who premeditated anything. They just found themselves in a tough spot and acted based on what they thought was best.

But not even good intentions can guarantee that you’ll stay out of prison.

The series’ first two episodes released in mid-January 2023, with more on the way. Based on those premiere episodes, viewers should expect a bit of watered-down violent content and light swearing in this TV-14 series. And by “watered-down,” we mean that horrific violent actions still occur, but the camera cuts away rather than focusing on them. Based on the show’s trailer, upcoming episodes may include more violence, politically-charged messages and sexual content.

Accused offers a unique take on your standard legal drama, one that seems to be focused on helping viewers see that not every defendant is as heartless as you might think. But while you won’t come out of Accused feeling like you just walked through a crime scene, you certainly may see a bit more violence than you’d like.

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It’s a nice skill to have—though it’s somewhat of a liability in the courtroom. For one, it tends to ruin Jen’s best suits. For another, turning into a green, 6-foot-7 Hulk can distract the jury from even the best of closing arguments.

Olive Toil

If Jen had had her druthers, she would’ve just been a lawyer—not lawyer-slash-superhero or lawyer-slash-monster or lawyer-slash-anything else. And so she was once.

But then one day, while driving about with her cousin, Bruce Banner, a spaceship drops from the sky and Bruce (in spite of his familiarity with dropping spaceships) drives clean off the road. Both Bruce and Jen are reasonably OK, but both are bleeding. Wouldn’t you know it, some of Bruce’s gamma-ray-infected blood seeps into an open cut on Jen’s arm. And because Jen shares the same gamma-twisting genes as Bruce does, she doesn’t immediately keel over and die, as most of us would: She turns green and starts smashing things.

But the Hulk smash! stage of her journey lasts only a transformation or two. Her personality never really changes, for one thing: Whether she’s normal or green, she’s still recognizably Jen. And because she’s way more used to controlling her anger than Bruce ever was (because she has to deal with, ugh, sexist men), Jennifer can transform at will. Which means she can slip off her heels when the need arises. Jen may be a lawyer, but it’d still be pretty expensive to buy a new pair of Jimmy Choo’s every time she needed to beat somebody up.

And beat she must. While Jen would still like to do most of her fighting in the more subdued confines of the courtroom, evildoers notoriously like to skirt the judicial system. Take Titania, who had always assumed that she was the strongest woman in the world. Now that she knows there’s a not-so-jolly-green gal running about, she’s out to knock Jennifer down a size or two. Literally.

But Titania may be small (if muscle-bound) potatoes compared to a clandestine crew that may want to do away with She-Hulk forever.

Green, Not Clean

In one of her many fourth-wall-breaking asides, Jen (played by the Emmy-winning Tatiana Maslany) tells viewers that She-Hulk: Attorney at Law is a “fun lawyer show.” But, of course, you can file that particular court brief under denial.

Jen doesn’t want to be a superhero, but She-Hulk is a superhero show—the eighth and latest television installment for Marvel’s sprawling Phase Four. (The first three phases culminated with Avengers: Endgame and Spider-Man: Far From Home.) She’ll likely be a major player in Marvel’s Cinematic Universe in a post Tony Stark/Steve Rogers cosmos.

And like many of the Disney+/Marvel television offerings, She-Hulk comes with a willingness to make fun of itself.

While the CGI comes off as a bit second rate, the core conceit is pretty fun. She-Hulk plays with superhero tropes and leverages Maslany’s charismatic versatility. It sticks a comic actress (Jameela Jamil of The Good Place) in as the villain—a character as concerned with her social media brand as with She-Hulk. Even the show’s title seems to owe a bit of something to Cartoon Network’s Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law, a comic, revisionist take on a 1970s Hanna-Barbera animated superhero.

But as Marvel continues to push into weirder, even sillier territory, it seems to push the content envelope, too.

Violence, of course, will be a part of any superhero story. But as mentioned, Jen doesn’t want to be a superhero. And in some respects, she doesn’t act like one. Drinking is on the table. As is occasional profanity. As are sexual encounters (though nothing critical is seen). While She-Hulk doesn’t smash past what you’d expect to see in many Marvel TV shows, it does seem to enjoy edging up as close to the line as it can—then giggling as it scampers away, as if it was a high-schooler TP’ing a neighbor’s house.

Yes, Jennifer Walters, aka She-Hulk, can bend bars as well as pass them. But she may bend many a parent’s patience, too. And this attorney-at-law may run afoul of many families’ own rules.

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After publishing a monumental piece sure to tank a five-star general and the future Secretary of Defense, Eileen is accused of a weak source and a false narrative. Her near-perfect reputation is tarnished, her career is canned. She decides to write a book to rehabilitate both–but a former boss of hers (Stanley) has a different idea. Come to Alaska with him. Get to the bottom of the appalling numbers of murdered Native American women. There’s a connection somewhere that someone is missing and he has a hunch that Eileen is the only one who can crack the case. 

Reluctantly, she agrees. Besides, all that’s left in New York are bad feelings, seclusion and an unhealthy, compulsive desire to go back to what once was. 

Alaska may be Eileen’s chance to reestablish her name, but it’s guaranteed to be the most difficult assignment of her entire career.

Journalism On The Fringe 

Welcome to Alaska, the new home of Oscar-winning actress, Hilary Swank. 

ABC’s  TV-PG Alaska Daily features a compelling cast with solid acting and a storyline that has the potential to really lure in viewers as the series progresses. It’s a combination of murder-mystery and investigative journalism, peppered with good ‘ole drama. 

Eileen (played by Swank) is a tough-around-the-edges reporter who isn’t usually liked by all, thanks to her occasionally sour attitude and preference for truth over feelings–not something a younger, softer generation typically appreciates. But things seem to be different in Alaska, including operating procedures, personal relationships and even Eileen herself. 

So far, since the pilot episode, there hasn’t been any on-screen violence, although it’s obviously insinuated. But light profanity and sexual content are present, including a scene where a woman’s bare back is revealed after a drunken, passionate night and an insinuated gay affair (again, we only hear about these things or see them after the fact). It’s assumed that the PG-rating will keep things fairly “mild,” but with the show’s heavy subject matter, time will tell if it holds true to that rating.

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He was a successful private investigator two years ago, but lost his license after his partner got into trouble and pulled him down with her. Now, he walks around grocery stores, stalking people being accused of insurance fraud. It’s not the best job, but it pays all the bills. Almost. 

Still, Todd might be content to live in his sister’s carriage house, barely paying rent and working a less-than-fulfilling job for the rest of his life–if it weren’t for his top-notch lawyer of a mother, Margaret. 

Margaret’s not about Todd’s freeloading, excuse-ridden self. She expects more of him. So she offers him something with more potential: a position as a newly licensed private investigator at her law firm. Todd accepts the offer, mainly hoping to get his mom off his back a little. And it kind of does. Turns out, Todd is actually really good at his job, however unconventional his methods may be. 

But most of his daytime hours require him to work alongside his mom, and that’s not the easiest thing for Todd to do.

If Todd and Margaret are to work together successfully, Todd will have to be OKwith following the rules a bit more carefully, while Margaret will have to realize that obeying the law doesn’t always help you solve the case. 

A Law-Full Family 

Viewers’ relationship with the CBS series So Help Me Todd may also be a bit strained... 

The play on words found in the title really comes from Todd’s mother, Margaret, and her exasperated attitude toward her son and his choices. And to be fair, you might feel the same while watching the show. While Todd is a grown man, he often makes reckless decisions, such as spying on clients and listening in on confidential information without permission. And although the first episode doesn’t reveal too much, it seems he doesn’t have a high success rate with his personal relationships either. 

But neither does Todd’s mom–or any of his family for that matter. Todd’s father passed away when he was younger, leaving his entire family to fend for themselves while greatly feeling his absence. Margaret picked herself up and built a law firm, but just found out that her current husband fled the scene, wanting to get away from the controlling clutches of his wife. Todd’s sister, Allison, isn’t fully satisfied with her job in the medical field or with her husband. Todd’s gay brother, Lyle, is by far the most successful, but his success seems to come at the expense of his family. 

Certainly, no one’s perfect. Not Todd, not his family and not the clients that Margaret and Todd vow to help, however complex their cases may be. That’s sort of where this series stays–showing an imperfect family helping imperfect people while still trying to work through its own stuff. 

Language isn’t too heavy, although we do hear mild profanity on occasion. Gay and lesbian couples make appearances, but we don’t see any on-screen sexual content (at least not in the pilot episode), and violence is something we hear about but don’t really see. 

This seems to be a typical CBS-style show with “mild” content on all fronts (at least by today’s standards), with a plot that may or may not lure you to watch more.

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