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‘The Whole Truth,’ which stars Maura Tierney and Rob Morrow as lawyers who are on opposite sides of the aisle every week, mistakes bombast for energy. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the entire cast wore out several pairs of shoes just shooting the first two episodes: there are dozens of walk-and-talk scenes and almost every line is delivered by characters on the move. And in case we didn’t get the message that assistant district attorney Kathryn Peale is a seriously tough lady, one conversation takes place at a shooting range, which is where Peale goes to relax.

Despite being a drama about lawyers, ‘The Whole Truth’ doesn’t even begin to have the courage of its convictions. Every point is hammered home with a complete lack of subtlety; during the closing argument in the pilot, bits of previous scenes were replayed at crucial moments, in case the audience forgot what transpired several minutes ago. It’s always a good time when a television network assumes that you’re a half-wit.

It’s disappointing that generally sympathetic actors such as Tierney and Morrow are given so few opportunities to have quiet, resonant moments on the show. But the worst part of this overly caffeinated, overly busy procedural, which tries hard to distract you from the fact that it’s really just a variation on ‘Law & Order,’ is Morrow’s character, Jimmy Brogan. He’s the kind of aggressive, hard-charging boss who’s given to shouting things like, “People, let’s work this out!”

People, let’s not.

Hitflix

If it had even a token regular police presence, it would be easy to re-dub ABC’s “The Whole Truth” (which debuts Wednesday at 10 p.m.) as “Law & Order: ADD.” This is a criminal law show that doesn’t have much of an attention span, and one that suspects that you don’t, either.

Maura Tierney and Rob Morrow play, respectively, a Manhattan ADA and a successful defense lawyer, who each week square off in court. (And I’ll forgive the contrivance of having the same two lawyers so routinely go head-to-head, simply because Tierney and Morrow’s professional chemistry is the most watchable part of the show.) We watch her as she builds a case, then bounce over to see Morrow and his team work, etc., etc., splitting time equally up through the verdict, at which point we get a little epilogue telling us (but not the lawyers) whodunnit.

The dual perspectives or prosecution and defense is a bit of a novelty from the Jerry Bruckheimer production team, since their shows (the “CSI”s, “Cold Case,” NBC’s new “Chase”) tend to take the side of law-enforcement. But the format is mainly an excuse for a rat-a-tat pace where we’re often ping-ponging between Tierney and Morrow multiple times in the same scene as each lawyer reacts to the latest development with their respective sidekicks.

Things get even faster once the trial begins, when you’re lucky if you see 10 seconds of each witness’ testimony, and even luckier if there’s an actual cross-examination.

I have nothing against a fast pace when it warrants it, but half the fun of the courtroom drama comes from watching the lawyers build their strategy slowly, and then from seeing the gamesmanship with witnesses, and most of that’s lost here. “The Whole Truth” is just a plot engine revving fast and loud – the Cliff’s Notes for some unseen version of the same story.

And the producers have so little faith in your ability to keep up with the story that the closing arguments are accompanied by snippets of testimony – some of them things we just heard a minute or two earlier – to both illustrate the monologues and to prepare us for the “whole truth” epilogue, where we’ll, say, see some crucial piece of evidence in the possession of someone who shouldn’t have it to explain who the guilty party really was.

I’m glad to see Tierney back on TV after breast cancer forced her to drop out of the role Lauren Graham wound up taking on “Parenthood,” and she and Morrow do work well together. Where other law shows tend to have one side view the other as the embodiment of evil, here we see that these two are old friends from law school who enjoy the battle of wits even as they’re convinced they’re on the right side of every fight. On those occasions when “The Whole Truth” slows down to just let those two bounce off each other, it’s a show I almost want to watch. But the rest of it is too fast, and too thin, to bother with.

Bottom Line: New York-set legal drama with a lot of energy and smart enough to carry us along as the puzzle comes together.
Emotions run high on “The Whole Truth,” a legal drama about dueling lawyers who struggle, in the pilot, over a murder and sexual-assault case with possible racist overtones. It’s a lot of baggage and cultural hot buttons for a show to take on in its first episode, but for the most part, “Truth” works.

The show, which is set in New York but shot in Los Angeles, revolves around its two leads, law school classmates who took opposite paths. Kathryn Peale (Maura Tierney) is an earnest, no-nonsense prosecutor with short hair and a shorter fuse. “I love the law,” she tells a grieving couple, vowing to bring their daughter’s killer to justice. “It is the only thing I am good at. Just ask anybody who’s unfortunate enough to be involved in my personal life.”

Her rival is Jimmy Brogan (Rob Morrow), a hot-shot defense attorney jacked full of confidence who dunks a small basketball in his office when things go well. Morrow, of course, once played a New York doctor stranded in small-town Alaska — what would Sarah Palin have made of him? — in “Northern Exposure,” but here he’s less soulful and his ironic style often comes across as smarmy. He calms down a bit as the episode goes on, but he’s not nearly as appealing as Tierney’s character, whom he calls “an overcaffeinated grind doing the government’s dirty work.”

Chances are, each episode will match these two — enemies, friends, potential lovers? — back and forth, cross-cutting from the point of view of the defense to the prosecutor’s and back again. The back-and-forth makes for pretty good television, ratcheting up the tension and giving a sense of the approach both sides will take in the trial. But you wonder: Do real lawyers really call the opposition attorney every five minutes to taunt, trash-talk and leak their strategy by cell phone?

The pilot centers on the murder of a Latina high school student: A mild-mannered father and schoolteacher goes to trial, and both attorneys build what seem like strong cases. There’s enough detail to the way they track down sources and evidence that at moments, at least, we feel like we’re getting deeper into the mystery of what happened and the chess game of building a case.

The conclusion isn’t entirely surprising, but it is convincing: We don’t feel ripped off by the way the decision goes.

Jerry Bruckheimer has been busy lately: This is the second series — next to the aptly named “Chase,” revolving around U.S. marshals in Texas — that he’s produced this season. This one has his trademark slickness and love of convention, but besides some overwrought music, the bombast is down.
Hollywood Reporter

So far, so good. The show could go either way: Morrow’s character might develop a following in sports bars throughout America, but he’s awfully hard to like. If the show is going to be a weekly battle between him and the warmer, more decent Tierney, it needs more balance between the counterparts. Their chemistry feels a bit forced: sometimes it’s fun, but it makes you think of better romantically tinged rivalries, whether Ted Danson and Shelley Long on “Cheers” or Bruce Willis and Cybill Shepherd on “Moonlighting,” not to mention the screwball comedies those drew from.

This show doesn’t have to offer that kind of classic pairing to be worth watching, but we need to believe this duo when they settle down for a friendly drink at calmer moments. If a life in the law is about more than just shouting and scheming, the downtime needs to make us see that lawyers are people, too.

hollywoodchicago.com

CHICAGO – Every year, there’s a program or two for which it is strikingly easy to recognize exactly what people will love about it and what many will equally hate about it. Said programs are usually the product of creators with strong and identifiable styles and Jerry Bruckheimer is certainly one of those. Even casual fans would recognize his slick approach to the medium and your tolerance for that is going to determine your judgment on ABC’s “The Whole Truth,” a program that works for me but might not work for you.

Television Rating: 3.5/5.0
Kathryn Peale (Maura Tierney) is the deeply-intellectual and tough Deputy Bureau Chief in the Manhattn District Attorney’s office. A friend of Kathryn’s for years, Jimmy Brogan (Rob Morrow) is the toughest New York criminal defense attorney. The high concept of “The Whole Truth” is that rather than merely detail the prosecution or defense of a client, each week we will see both and draw our own conclusions. In a subgenre that has grown increasingly stale, just the effort to find something new by not turning either side of the courtroom into the weekly villain makes for an experience that feels fresh. In the opening episode, the case revolves around a family man accused of rape and murder.

It might sound odd for a critic to waffle so completely on a program but “The Whole Truth” is a show about seeing both sides of the story, so it seems oddly appropriate. The prosecution of the drama will claim that it’s surface-level manipulation with no real character development and slick editing masquerading as actual storytelling — it’s all style over substance. The defense will counter with the argument that it’s not intending to be a grand statement on anything but merely to entertain for 44 minutes and that its breakneck pace and excellent performances make it perfect hump day entertainment — the style IS the substance.

Judging a program this easily divisive on the strength of the first episode can be difficult. The pilot works for me. It worked for me with Joely Richardson in the role and it works just as well with Maura Tierney, arguably better. She brings a perfect blend to her character, coming off tough but not too much so, finding a great balance. She instantly comes off believably a woman who could eat you alive in a courtroom without forgetting to smile or come off as unlikable. Rob Morrow, one of the more notable TV veterans of the last two decades after stints on “Northern Exposure” and “Numbers,” delivers exactly as you’d expect him to with another excellent turn surely to be underrated. And the supporting cast is strong including the always-impressive Eamonn Walker and newcomers Sean Wing, Anthony Ruivivar, and Christine Adams.

What needs undeniable work on “The Whole Truth” is the storytelling. The first case is ridiculous, especially an illogical and manipulative final scene designed merely to get audiences talking the next morning. But I’m not sure we want realism out of a program like “The Whole Truth.” This is not a program that would work by attempting to deepen its characters. That’s not what we expect from Bruckheimer productions. Sure, there’s a little bit, mostly provided by talented stars like Tierney and Morrow, but we watch Bruckheimer shows for the thrill ride, not the realism.

It may not close the case for season pass inclusion after its opening arguments but “The Whole Truth” does enough right to keep listening to the case. Although I don’t expect that to be a unanimous decision.