Let's clear the air right away: the timing couldn't be more amusing—shortly after an episode featuring Alan Ruck aired, we're greeted with one starring none other than Matthew Broderick, the iconic Ferris Bueller himself. Alternatively, you could see this casting as a sequel of sorts, pairing Nathan Lane's Max Bialystock from "The Producers" with Broderick's Leo Bloom. Either perspective makes for delightful viewing.
Successful procedural dramas that crack the murder case within an hour's worth of screen time rely heavily on an arrogant perpetrator. All murderers harbor a degree of arrogance; to contemplate and carry out the act of killing another human being, one must believe (a) they possess the capability to plan and execute such a deed, (b) their motives justify their actions, and (c) their meticulous planning and flawless execution will enable them to evade justice.
While we've witnessed the occasional crime of passion or vigilante-style murder, the majority of cases featured on "Elsbeth" revolve around resentment-driven homicides—settling scores, safeguarding reputations, enforcing theater etiquette, and the like. Inevitably, the murder in "Foiled Again" is a hybrid of score-settling and business/reputation protection.
To date, Judge Crawford stands as the most arrogant murderer Elsbeth has confronted, making a cameo at the episode's conclusion. However, Broderick's Lawrence Grey runs a close second, tapping into the same wellspring of arrogance as His (Dis)honor. Lawrence is convinced of his own cleverness, believing he's too smart to be apprehended. Just in case, though, he carefully lays a trail of misdirection, pointing the police toward a scapegoat. (Trying to pin a murder on a feline? A classic blunder akin to waging war in Asia!) And who would dare suspect him? An Ivy League graduate, a thriving businessman, and a man who seemingly has it all; why would he need or desire to end anyone's life?
Lawrence has enjoyed unparalleled success in helping privileged young individuals gain admission to Ivy League schools (exclusively, mind you). So, it's only fitting that one of his clients would return to stab him with a fencing foil—metaphorically speaking, of course. Enter Ethan Brooks (Rob McClure), a former client of Lawrence's college admissions firm, OutMatch, who has climbed the ranks to become the Director of Admissions and fencing coach at the prestigious (yet fictional) Baden University. Kudos to him! However, this development spells good news for Ethan but potential doom for Lawrence. Ethan, who hasn't even touched the fruit-and-cheese basket Lawrence sent as a congratulatory gesture, harbors deep resentment towards Lawrence for steering him into a life he never wanted. Vowing never to admit any OutMatch client to Baden, Ethan poses a significant threat to Lawrence's business. With only seven schools constituting the traditional Ivy League, this effectively slams shut numerous potential revenue streams for Lawrence. It's unclear what irks him more—the potential loss of business or Ethan's vow to tarnish his reputation beyond repair.
Just as Ethan intended to wield his talent for identifying and dismissing applications from OutMatch clients, Lawrence was all too aware of the stakes, as evidenced by his assistant—played by Broderick's son, James Wilkie Broderick—reporting that Baden's Early Action admissions had proven to be a disastrous "bloodbath" for OutMatch aspirants. Seizing the moment, Lawrence harnessed his intimate knowledge of Ethan to neutralize him as a potential threat. (The visual of Lawrence seated in the soft glow of his fireplace, caressing a snowy-white cat perched in his lap, exuding a Bond villain-esque aura, is a gem. Embrace this self-aware whimsicality, the show truly shines here!)
Ethan's severe asthma, triggered by feline dander, posed a constant challenge, yet it was under Lawrence's mentorship that he discovered fencing as a dual remedy—both to mitigate his asthma symptoms and to enhance his college applications. Challenging Ethan to a fencing duel to resolve their disputes, Lawrence cunningly lined Ethan's helmet with dander from his own feline companion, then secured it with a zip-tie, ensuring Ethan couldn't remove it to access his inhaler during an inevitable asthma attack. While his ploy to lure Baden's Instagram-renowned Quad Cat into the fencing gym using catnip from the cat's favorite toy was ingenious, he inadvertently left behind clues and questions that demanded answers, paving the way for Elsbeth, Kaya, and Detective Donnelly to delve deeper.
Lawrence's arrogance left telltale signs, and the trio swiftly picked up on them, uncovering that Quad Cat earned her moniker due to her unique four toes on all paws, not merely her hind ones. Furthermore, her hypoallergenic nature ruled out her involvement in triggering Ethan's fatal asthma episode. The distinctive paw prints of Quad Cat and the notable absence of regular cat prints at the scene negated an accidental feline encounter as the catalyst. Lawrence promptly emerged as a prime suspect—he was engaged with a client on campus the night of Ethan's demise, and Ethan had made no secret of his intention to blacklist OutMatch applicants. To deflect suspicion, Lawrence claimed to have once owned a fluffy feline named Veritas, but it had passed away some time ago. Elsbeth, herself allergic to cats and always sneezing in Lawrence's presence, remained unconvinced.
This week's murder serves as a catalyst for Elsbeth to introspection on her relatively hands-off parenting of Teddy (Ben Levi Ross). Had she made a mistake by not hiring a college admissions consultant for him? Would a more prestigious institution have suited him better than the University of Illinois? Had Teddy, as Lawrence snidely remarked, failed to launch, and if so, was it her fault? These anxieties likely fuel Elsbeth's inclination to bombard Teddy with meticulous questions whenever they meet. Learning that Teddy's parents' demanding careers as high-profile attorneys left him to fend for himself much of the time offers insight into his vigilance in guarding his privacy and his reluctance to leverage his parents' connections professionally.
Upon discovering that Captain Wagner had assisted him in securing his current, highly competitive job, Teddy correctly deduced that his mother had interceded with Wagner. His disappointment and fury were palpable as he stormed out of the party Elsbeth was hosting to celebrate Kaya's completion of her undergraduate requirements. (Congratulations, Kaya! You're acing it, and I eagerly anticipate seeing you in civilian attire by season's end!)
This predicament sends Elsbeth into a whirlwind of self-doubt regarding her parenting decisions, further inflamed by her decision to engage Lawrence for a brief consultancy aimed at boosting her prospective grandchildren's chances at highly selective colleges. Their exchanges fail to persuade her that the Ivy League path is the sole viable route, instead unveiling Lawrence as an elitist snob woefully out of sync with reality, possessing a cringe-worthy and myopic perspective on the true value of higher education. Moreover, it becomes evident that Lawrence lacks the cunning and deceitfulness required to outmaneuver Elsbeth, especially after she encounters and forms an alliance with his daughter, Mandy (Cassidy Layton).
Oh, the poignant irony of Mr. "Ivies-Only-Or-Failure" having a daughter languishing aimlessly in her 19th month of a gap year between high school and college! It serves as a stark reminder of life's nutritional supplements gone awry. What's Mandy's story? Is she openly rebelling against her father's expectations? Could it be that she's simply uninterested in, or lacks the academic prowess for, the prestigious universities of the world? Nay, her skepticism stems from questioning the merit of achievements for their own sake. Even if she were to embrace the culture of achievement, she believes her parents would hog all the glory. While I suppose parents can celebrate their children's accomplishments without taking undue credit, I wasn't raised by a ruthless college admissions guru like Lawrence. Mandy's situation is uniquely complex and deeply personal!
It transpires that when Mandy's beloved Veritas is involved, she becomes highly motivated to learn and strive for excellence. Aiding in the downfall of her father, who not only ended Ethan's life but also deceived her about Veritas being deceased when he was, in reality, at a (presumably) humane shelter, adds an extra layer of satisfaction to her endeavors. This revelation casts Teddy's hurt and anger in a new light, prompting him to visit the precinct to apologize and seek reconciliation with his mother. He also brings Roy (Hayward Leach) along, placing his boyfriend in an interrogation room to await his turn with Elsbeth. (Teddy's mischievous humor amuses me greatly.)
Teddy had kept Roy away from his mother, fearing that her intense personality might be overwhelming. However, his concerns proved unfounded as they hit it off famously, engaging in an animated 83-minute conversation! Roy is as charming and endearing as one could hope for, bearing a slight resemblance to the Philadelphia 76ers' promising rookie (before a season-ending injury), Jared McCain. Ironically, it is Roy who suggests to Elsbeth the idea of telling Mandy that Veritas might still be alive and well at a nice farm (or a reputable shelter).
With the case successfully concluded, Roy comfortably entrenched in the confines of his apartment, and Teddy and Elsbeth having mended their fences, Teddy pays a farewell visit to his mother before embarking on his journey back to Washington, D.C. Rumors circulating through the grapevine suggest that the despicable Mark Van Ness is being thoroughly routed in his divorce proceedings, much to Elsbeth's relief as she bids farewell to the era haunted by the shadowy presence of the black car with its tinted windows.
It is at this juncture that we feel compelled to venture a prediction: another such vehicle looms on the horizon in her immediate future. Our prediction had better be swift, for scarcely have the words left our lips when the odious Judge Crawford arrives, his car pulling up with ominous intent. He extends an invitation to Elsbeth, his tone passive-aggressive as he berates her for "slipping out of a tight spot" regarding the Van Ness case and hints at perceived ethical breaches on her part. He further implies that with the murder case he presided over now under reopening, the original defendant, Delia, will come under meticulous, almost microscopic, scrutiny. Inevitably, so too will he, for the numerous fundamental errors he committed are far too gross for someone of his supposed experience and insight. Elsbeth ponders, intrigued, on the reasons behind such ineptitude.
