Ally McBeal FOX Monday 9 pm/8 central

 

Reviewed by Julie Hilden
March 19, 2001

I Litigate L.A.

In the wake of his breakup with Melanie, Cage is crushed, and depressed. Fish confesses to him that he and Ling, too, are "estranged" - "taking a little break from each other," Fish explains. Fish then complains that they, the partners, are "working late while all the associates are living life." (If so, this would be a first in law firm history.) And he invites Cage to travel to L.A. with him. Why? To pick up Robert Downey Jr. at a bail hearing?

The Sarcastic Skies

No, just for a vacation. The trip to L.A., Fish and Cage announce, is a go. Meanwhile, Ally - as the most senior associate - is named temporary senior partner, raising the question: Why the heck isn't Ally a real partner yet? On the way to L.A., Fish sneaks his way into first class with a fake baby in a baby carrier (it "cries" even in the luggage rack), and then is maximally rude. Fish tries to start a party in first class, but manages only to terrify his fellow passengers by offering to write wills for them (for a fee, of course). He also alienates the stewardess by treating her the way he'd treat a cocktail waitress at a sleazy bar. The pilot attempts to silence Fish for the rest of the flight. But Fish just can't be suppressed. When his fellow passenger farts repeatedly, Fish pulls down an oxygen mask. Once on the ground, he is arrested - more of an example of "air sarcasm" than "air rage." Cage represents Fish at the hearing on his case, and the judge, seeing the case as trivial, dismisses it. This is a bit of a surprise - while the rudeness may be forgivable, the oxygen mask move seems to me like some serious tampering that shouldn't go unpunished. Nevertheless, as usual on Ally McBeal, law must give way to romance - and it does.

Lawyers And Lovers

Jubilant once Fish is freed, the boys decide to ride around L.A. sticking out of the top of what appears to be a chauffeur-driven limo. They attract the interest of two driving babes, despite the fact that they look like morons. How can this be? Perhaps in L.A., Fish's theory that his money makes him attractive is actually correct. Boston, to me, has always seemed a bit too substantive for his approach to work - except on "L.A.-in-Boston" chicks like Ling, and now, not even on her. Maybe he should move. Fish is thinking along these lines, too - looking for some "L.A. wattle," even as Cage wonders if they should be having so much fun when they have so much woman trouble. Nevertheless, Fish and Cage head to the swimming pool, where they meet a babe. You can tell she's a babe because she's filmed in slo-mo, Charlie's Angels-style. Fish and Cage's faux-coolness, as they hit on the babe, is supposed to be amusing - especially when the background music warbles "Play That Funky Music, White Boy" - but actually comes off as simply lame. This is one of the increasingly many instances where the show just tries too hard. Way too hard. Amazingly, Fish's ridiculous lines seems to work on the babe (a wannabe actress), and Cage seems to be successfully scamming on someone too, a weeping woman named Cassandra (Bernadette Peters, or a lookalike) who asks for legal advice. Unfortunately, the babe turns out to be a prostitute, and Fish is arrested for solicitation. Meanwhile, in another prostitution subplot, Cassandra confesses to Cage that her husband "set up" her adulterous affair - hiring a man to seduce her - so that, according to a provision in their pre-nup, she would not be able to get alimony when he divorced her.

Just a Looker, Not a Hooker

The babe explains that she is an escort, not a hooker, and Cage agrees to represent her, as well as Fish in the prostitution case. Meanwhile, Cage offers to represent the character played by Bernadette (if she is, indeed Bernadette) as well. This means, I guess, that he's representing two unwitting "johns" - Fish and Bernadette (though perhaps we should call her a "jane"; isn't it sexist that there's no term for a woman who frequents a male prostitute?) The arguments are major de ja vu of the episode a few seasons ago in which a prosecutor claimed Ling's escort service was a prostitution ring - as usual, Ally McBeal believes the third time, with a particular legal plot, must be the charm. Instead, though, the plots get wearying once repeated. The offensive point of this particular, repeated subplot - a point made over and over in Ally McBeal - is that men pay for sex all the time. Whether in dating or prostitution, the show asks, what's the difference? The point is neither funny nor particularly insightful. Rather, it comes off as sort of pathetic, like men who believe they've bought sex by buying dinner. Did Michelle Pfeiffer accept this theory when she was dating David E. Kelley? I bet not. So it's condescending to try to foist it on the rest of us. Cage wins again, securing freedom for both Fish and the escort. As a thank-you, the escort - now wearing a dog collar (are we sure she's not a prostitute?) - gives Cage and Fish a little tour of L.A., and Fish offers to get her out of her escort contract. Clearly, these men just can't resist mixing business with pleasure. (Sounds almost like prostitution, when you put it like that). Fish ends up discoing with the babe, and we get lots of gratuitous shots of beautiful L.A. women, whom Fish remarks would be just like Boston women "if you added 15 pounds and a mustache." (Now he may have to move!) Later, he does get the babe out of her long-term escort contract - for a promise of 3% of whatever money she makes as an actress. And amazingly, at the end of the show, he ends up rejecting her by refusing to stay a few more days in L.A., even on the promise that he might see her naked. Now that is totally out of character! Especially since I get the feeling Fish isn't going to see Ling naked anytime soon (although Jackson Duper might).

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A Cheap Episode of "Ally McBeal"

Meanwhile, Cassandra's case seems to be more difficult, but at a settlement conference, the opposing lawyer's rudeness triggers all of Cage's litigation aggression - and he triumphs again. He argues that fidelity is a "bilateral agreement" - and claims the husband violated the pre-nup himself when he committed adultery thrice, and then set his wife up "in a cheap episode of Temptation Island." Takes one sitcom to know one, though. Isn't this a cheap episode too - sort of like "The Brady Bunch Goes to Hawaii"? Then, invoking the doctrine of "unclean hands" - a legal rule that prevents a plaintiff from benefiting from his own wrongful actions - Cage vows to break the contract, before a judge or if necessary, before a jury. He contends, forcefully and persuasively, that Cassandra will be much more sympathetic than her cheating, male prostitute-hiring hubby. The opposing lawyer is visibly unsettled by the force of his arguments. And for once on Ally McBeal, they really are good arguments: Cage is right, and he should win this case, or at least get a big settlement. Cassandra explains to Cage later that she cheated, on that one occasion, only because she was looking for a "nice, gentle, and honest man" after her husband's infidelity. She then indicates a little more explicitly that she might be falling for Cage - saying she's "thankful" to Melanie for breaking up with him and driving him to California. Later, at another settlement conference, the husband capitulates, and offers Cassandra $3 million. Unsatisfied with the offer, Cage coaches his client to walk out in a fury. (Again, Cage uses a strategy that might well work in the real world, too - assuming his client was as good an actress as, say, Bernadette Peters). Based on this trick, Cage gets his client $4.2 million - and like Fish, he ends the episode getting hit on by the beautiful woman. (Puh-leeze! These shrimpy little men get far more than their share of babe-age: Melanie and Ling, and now these women?) At the end of the episodes, Fish has the brilliant realization that "we're workaholics" - since they have practiced law on vacation. But he misses the point: It was basically to get some booty, even though they couldn't really go through with the law-for-sex trade. In the end, they may be johns, but they're half-hearted ones. Next week, I'm going to be really glad to be back in Boston, where I hope Fish marries Ling - who then promptly gains 15 pounds and grows a mustache.

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Julie Hilden, a FindLaw contributor, is the author of the memoir, The Bad Daughter. She practiced First Amendment law at the Washington D.C. law firm of Williams & Connolly from 1996-99. Her weekly reviews of the past season's Ally McBeal episodes are located in FindLaw's Insider Reviews archives.

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