Matlock, after its brief basketball-inspired hiatus, has returned this week with a classic episode in the new Matlock style, featuring the three components that I most enjoy about this show: (1) A challenging case that mirrors Matty's larger mission and/or personal struggles; (2) Matty applying her unique skills to the case by spotting clues that others miss and using her "aw shucks" charm to elicit valuable information; and (3) a gut-punch ending. I'm eager to delve into that ending. But since it works so well because of the way this episode's story is told, let's go through the checklist in order, one by one.
We'll start with the case, courtesy of Olympia's old law school chum, public defender Amina Sloane (Azie Tesfai). Amina has been admiring Olympia's recent recommitment to social justice—and, more importantly, all the Hail Mary wins her team is pulling off. Amina wonders if Olympia can pass some of that mojo along to Isabel Sanchez (Blanca Araceli), who has a difficult problem. Isabel has felt deeply guilty for the past 21 years ever since she served on a jury that sent a man to prison for a murder she is sure he didn't commit.
The man is Eugene Molina (Del Zamora), a former doorman. Gene was convicted of killing a cranky tenant, Linda Gallo, although the evidence against him was weak. He had no real motive, left no DNA in the victim's apartment, and the chief witness's description of the perpetrator didn't match Gene. But the cops said he did it, and the foreman on Isabel's jury grew so frustrated with her unwillingness to vote guilty that he bullied her into submission.
What does this have to do with Matty? Well, her initial reaction to Isabel's story is to blame the juror, not the jury. She can't imagine how any person would let themselves get steamrolled into becoming an accessory to injustice. She certainly can't forgive that person for staying silent for over 20 years, hoping the appeals process would straighten everything out. This is Matty in absolutist mode, as we have so frequently seen her. No excuses allowed.
But Isabel has a good excuse. Later in the episode, when Matty and Isabel are alone together, the juror explains what it was like to be a woman of color—and an immigrant to boot—trying to be heard over the braying of an overconfident white man. And Matty suddenly gets it. The epiphany changes the way she thinks about Isabel. It even changes her sour feelings towards Emmalyn Belvin, the Jacobson-Moore/Wellbrexa whistleblower, who Matty thinks should've come forward sooner. (I'll return further down to Mrs. B, her cute puppy Barry Manilow, and the way Matty mistreats both of them.)
This brings us to the second cornerstone of a compelling Matlock episode: Matty's engagement. As I've repeatedly noted in my recent reviews, the worst aspect of Matty's disillusionment with Olympia has been her detachment from her work. It was disheartening to see her stumble through the Slamm'd arc over the course of three episodes. Thankfully, her contributions in this case are more significant.
Firstly, she nurtures Gene, who is resigned to spending the rest of his life in the prison library and reluctant to assist. Matty empathizes with his feelings of hopelessness, just enough to coax a few questions out of him. With the details Gene provides, the team can follow a trail that leads to an alternate suspect, whom Matty then tricks into providing his DNA. Although the DNA doesn't match the crime scene samples, retesting those old samples reveals a match with a convicted felon who died in prison and once worked as a caterer at the victim's apartment. Case closed.
I've been contemplating the question of whether the lawyers in Matlock are truly adept at their craft; and I must admit, this case is challenging to assess in that regard. Olympia comes up with a long-shot strategy to circumvent the fact that Gene has exhausted his appeals. She has Isabel sue the jury foreman, Dale Foster (played by Bruce Robert Cole), for inflicting emotional distress. She then waits for the foreman's lawyer to argue that Isabel was unreasonably obstinate 21 years ago, given the defendant's clear guilt—which gives Olympia the opportunity to assert that the only way to prove this claim is to reopen the case.
Does the law actually permit such a maneuver? The logic seems tenuous to me. On the other hand, the case against Gene was so riddled with obvious holes that it's surprising none of his previous appeals succeeded. In a roundabout way, this case-of-the-week reflects what's happening elsewhere in the show—and how the writers both foreshadow and distract us from the surprise they're about to spring.
The core idea of this story is that the justice system repeatedly defaults to favoring the voices of authority: the police (who didn't investigate thoroughly), the foreman (who took the word of the police), and so on. Olympia leverages this idea to her advantage, urging her ADA nemesis, Andrew Park, to test her DNA samples over the objections of his superiors. She knows that Andrew, too, has been overlooked and ignored in his career, and she appeals to his long-buried outrage.
To pay Andrew back for his bravery, Olympia holds a press conference with him after the case has resolved in their favor, securing a glowing media coverage that would make it virtually impossible for their respective bosses to terminate their employment. This triumphous moment arrives at a pivotal juncture for Olympia, whose success in the Slamm'd case had irked the partner board of Jacobson-Moore, a firm whose most lucrative business involved helping corporations engage in unethical practices. The courage Olympia displayed in the face of that opposition was what once endeared Matty to her, before Matty became convinced that the younger Olympia had sold her soul to Wellbrexa.
In this episode, Matty finally rekindles her friendship with Olympia for a couple of reasons. Isabel's story plays a part, but the real game-changer is Edwin's discovery of evidence that proves Olympia was arguing a case in court at the time the Wellbrexa documents went missing. Olympia, apparently, was not responsible. Matty is overjoyed...until the twist at the end.
Ah, yes, the ending. The sucker punch is so strong. The final scene sees Matty stepping off the bus at the end of the day as usual, heading to her chauffeured car...until she finds Olympia standing in her way with a question: "Who the hell are you, Madeline Matlock?" This twist is accompanied by a Matlock-style flashback montage, revealing how Olympia had uncovered Matty's deception across several episodes before piecing together the final clue—the chauffeured car—from Amina, who traced the Kingstons' license plate and passed the information to Olympia under the code name "The Johnson Case."
As cool as that final moment is (in a "heart dropping into the stomach" way), I also appreciate how it connects to an earlier montage in the episode when Olympia and Matty looked back on their bond of friendship. Apparently, even then, Olympia was suspicious of Matty. In retrospect, seeing that moment more from Olympia's perspective than Matty's, every glowing word she says about Matlock carries a sting of accusation.
This episode reminds me of Matlock's early episodes where Matty impressed Olympia by advocating for the value of her unique voice—while also irking Olympia for expecting her boss to be deferential to a folksy old white lady. This entire season has explored the question of whose voices get listened to. From the start, Matty has positioned herself as a quiet underdog, yet given her aggressive bullying of family members and co-workers, she has rarely checked her privilege. I think Olympia is about to do it for her.
