Procedural dramas, more than most genres, naturally steer us into narrating their tales in a chronological sequence. They unfold the mystery of the week with reassuring consistency, blending character and thematic development with sprinkles of overarching plot elements, all culminating in those satisfying end credits. "One Angry Woman," however, marks what I perceive as a pivotal moment where Elsbeth embraces a themes-centric approach to an episode, and I am fully on board with this shift. The theme of the week—and, dare I say, of the entire season—is boundaries, drumroll, please!
Every character, from Elsbeth and Teddy to the shady Judge Crawford and Lonnie, the eerie podcast enthusiast, is engaged in conversations about boundaries. The murder victim of the week, Andy, and his non-murderer, Delia, are part of this discourse, as are Lt. Connor and his precinct-wide audit. Throughout the season, Elsbeth and Kaya have been negotiating, establishing, and readjusting boundaries within their friendship, which has been at the core of their few conflicts. Recall how Kaya had to persuade Elsbeth that paying rent while residing in her apartment would be beneficial for their bond, clarifying that Kaya's presence was not charity, thus preventing minor resentments from blossoming into larger disputes.
Boundaries are not merely about shielding oneself from specific behaviors or experiences; they are about creating the maximum space for the relationships we cherish. Teddy enforces the one-fact-per-day rule with Elsbeth, not because he's a grown man averse to her interference, but because he recognizes that their relationship will thrive when she understands they are individuals, not an inseparably porous emotional entity. As a mature individual, Teddy desires Elsbeth in his life without fostering her overinflated sense of responsibility towards him. He'll forever be her baby, yet he's also an adult. They're faithfully navigating this journey together, inching closer to their goal. Here's to hoping Teddy's beau, Roy, relocating to Brooklyn in the new year, will further facilitate this process.
Elsbeth's necessity to surrender much of her cherished Teddy time during his visit, due to her unavoidable jury duty, inadvertently bolsters their relationship's long-term vitality. Kaya introduces Teddy to the touristy facets of city life she usually shuns, taking him to Coney Island, the bewildering yet underfunded marvel of engineering known as the subway, the High Line, and later, debriefing with Captain Wagner over beers back at the precinct. Elsbeth's beloved colleagues get a glimpse of Teddy as he truly is—not just the hyper-accomplished young go-getter she's proud of—while he witnesses their profound care for his mother. Oh, where did all these chopped onions come from? The poignant convergence of blood families and chosen families, bonding and connecting, is heartwarming indeed, she murmured, delicately dabbing at her tears.
Diving into Teddy's perspective on his mother's life in New York unveils a fascinating narrative. Amidst their playful banter about his daily dose of one Teddy Fact™ and her cheerful attempts to entice him back to the city more frequently, the underlying reason for his unexpected visit shines through – a genuine concern for his mother's welfare. Teddy remains clueless about her abrupt departure from Chicago and was deeply unsettled by Kaya's SOS text urging him to rush to her side. Could it be that Elsbeth is amidst some sort of crisis? On the surface, she appears fine, yet a lingering doubt persists – is she truly alright? The answer teeters between yes and no; while she sidesteps inquiries about her Chicago exit and was once沉浸在 a state of despair fearing months-long separation, those darkest clouds have since dispersed.
Elsbeth, ever the vigilant guardian of justice, finds her purpose rekindled when she stumbles upon a malfunctioning justice mechanism while serving as an alternate juror in what seems like a cut-and-dried murder trial. The case appears straightforward, with an abundance of circumstantial and physical evidence tying the accused to the crime – a man was brutally murdered in his apartment, presumably by his lover, who was discovered by police standing over his lifeless body, nude and smeared in his blood. However, once Elsbeth's inquisitive mind starts pulling at the loose ends, she finds herself unable to halt her investigation.
Recall from the episode's chilling opening that prior to Andy's demise, he and Delia indulged in a consensual role-playing escapade on a tempestuous night. Delia was in the shower when Andy was savagely beaten to death by a suspicious, bespectacled, middle-aged man wielding a baseball bat (Michael Emerson, the master of portraying characters shrouded in hidden, often morally ambiguous intentions). The killer's motive remains a mystery to us, though it's evident that perpetrator and victim were acquainted and had a history of keeping secrets. The murderer, distrustful of Andy's pledge to safeguard their shared secret, decided it was time to silence him, using Donna Summer's music as a macabre backdrop, adding an outrageous disrespect towards the disco diva to his already egregious breach of social norms. He left the murder weapon, just beyond the bathroom door, where a bewildered Delia picked it up before stumbling upon Andy's body.
Until now, the motives behind the murders that have crossed Elsbeth's path have been crystal clear – greed, jealousy, revenge, the preservation of reputation, and even bad manners at the opera have unleashed the worst in perpetrators. In stark contrast, Andy's murder and the murderer himself remain shrouded in obscurity. We are aware that the killer doubles as the judge presiding over Delia's trial, yet until the episode's climactic moments, Elsbeth merely suspected him of attempting to railroad Delia, unaware of his role in Andy's untimely death.
Elsbeth's uncanny ability to spot details overlooked by others and her relentless probing into them until a coherent pattern unfolds proves to be the hero's beacon in a dire situation. By cleverly maneuvering to disqualify Lonnie, the sexist podcaster, she gains entry into the jury deliberation room, where her inquisitiveness about the weapon, motive, and witnesses' testimonies systematically tears holes in the District Attorney's case against Delia. Granted, her boundaries are woefully blurred (sneaking into her charming neighbor's apartment to deliver homemade goodies? Harmless though it may seem, it's undoubtedly erratic behavior!), and her impulsive, fiery threats of physical violence lack substance. Yet, being somewhat eccentric does not equate to being a murderer. Delia deserves a capable defense, something woefully denied her by her shoddy lawyer, Chazz Milano (played to perfection by Scott Adsit of '30 Rock' fame, adding just the right dash of comedic spice to his role). Thankfully, it's Elsbeth's probing questions that provide just that.
While Elsbeth manages to persuade her fellow jurors, including the formidable forewoman portrayed by another '30 Rock' veteran, Marceline Hugot, of Delia's innocence in Andy's murder, this marks the first episode in 'Elsbeth' where she doesn't solve the crime by its conclusion. Throughout, subtle hints have been scattered – Andy's inclination to believe in the U.S. government's omnipotence, shaped by his experiences, and Judge Crawford's yearning for a federal bench appointment – perhaps these are mere diversions, or perhaps they are the exact opposite. (Wild-caught salmon, perhaps?) Regardless, Your Honor Milton Crawford, who fancies himself not merely a judge but also judge, jury, and executor, will find himself squarely in Elsbeth's metaphorical sights for at least one more episode. He stands as her most formidable foe to date, but even he is not impervious to errors. His dismissive remark, labeling Andy a "perverted disco lover" without any disco-related mention in the proceedings, opens him up to further scrutiny from Elsbeth. This is shaping up to be exceptional.
