As I alluded to in last week's Matlock recap, the long-awaited "Olympia meets Madeline Kingston" twist is a masterstroke that references the earliest episodes of this season, where Olympia pushed back against Matty's "poor, pitiful me" act—effectively stating that, regardless of her age, this lady should not wallow in self-pity in front of a Black woman in a predominantly white law firm. For that same reason, I was thrilled with the penultimate episode of the season, where Olympia didn't let Matty off the hook easily. She was furious. Olympia was so furious that she became, frankly, excessively mean. I love her for that.
While I have some lingering dissatisfaction with how this episode ends, I'll still declare it the best so far, setting up a finale that could, based on the direction this story's heading, completely upend the show's premise. The moment—where Matty's deception is out in the open, at least for Olympia—is something I've been dreading all year. But watching it felt a little like enduring one of those painful conversations with a loved one that ultimately ends up being more refreshing and energizing than destructive.
But it doesn't start that way. This episode picks up where the last one left off, with Olympia confronting Matty by the alley where the Kingstons' secret limo is parked. What follows is a series of chilling orders from Olympia: Dismiss the driver. Get in this cab. Come upstairs to Jacobson-Moore's abandoned office suite on the 25th floor. Turn over your bags and your phone—and your passcode. Take this pad of paper and write down every lie you've told. And don't—do not—mention your daughter.
Olympia's fury in these opening scenes is terrifying. She won't give Matty any opening to spin. From the start, she hisses, "Think very carefully before lying to my face again," and lets her know, "I'm your judge, I'm your jury." She refuses to believe anything Matty says about her actual credentials or how she constructed her new identity. It's all "what a con man would say," Olympia grumbles. And it certainly doesn't help that Matty loses her folksy accent the moment she gets cornered.
As savvy TV viewers, we know this ice-out can't last forever. And while Matty deserves to squirm a little, we also know this show's called Matlock, and the writers ultimately want us on her side. The problem for Matty is that the best way to defend herself is to talk about Ellie, which Olympia expressly forbids. In fact, Olympia physically winces every time Matty brings it up, perhaps because she doesn't want to risk hearing lies about a dead kid.
The turning point arrives when Matty receives a reprieve. As Olympia notices the concerned messages buzzing on Matty's phone from her apartment superintendent in Queens, she realizes it must be Matty's not-dead husband. She commands Matty to call Edwin on speakerphone, telling him she's working late. And Edwin, blessed soul that he is, says kind things about Olympia and how much Matty loves her without realizing the boss is listening. Eight words in particular—"Now that you know she didn't do it"—prompt Olympia to let Matty begin explaining herself.
The truce remains uneasy. As Matty is telling Olympia about the missing Wellbrexa document, she's also reminding Olympia about the depths of her betrayal—like how Matty stole her laptop containing the only copy of a voicemail from her dead father. And when Matty accuses Julian of taking the document, it makes Olympia think about the spy-pen gambit and how she spent days feeling paranoid and hating Julian for no reason. Genuine damage has been done to Olympia's psyche, and it's not easily forgiven.
In fact, Olympia gets so mad that she threatens to shut down this makeshift tribunal and call the cops. But remember what I said about Matty's shifting accent? As we learned a few weeks ago, she imitates her sister Bitsy because it softens her personality. But whenever she drops that act, she hardens. She counters Olympia, saying the cops will find she legally changed her name and took the New York bar exam, making any claims that she's an imposter seem weak. She also promises to tell the press everything about Jacobson-Moore's Wellbrexa mess, embarrassing Olympia's family, including her kids. That's right: Matty is willing to mess up the lives of Olympia's children for her own daughter's sake.
I should mention that while Olympia has Matty trapped in an old office on Floor 25 after hours, there's an actual case-of-the-week on Floor 24 being handled mainly by Billy and Sarah at first, with Olympia popping downstairs to track the progress. The case involves Amy Buckley (Eliza Bennett), a heavily pregnant 26-year-old who wants an immediate divorce from her controlling husband, Grant (Michael Antosy), who is about to force her to have a C-section. Jacobson-Moore is the only firm Amy knows, given that her husband's wealthy family does business there.
It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to find parallels between this week's case and the main Matty/Olympia story. Everything about Amy's situation reflects badly on Jacobson-Moore's senior management, which handled both sides of the Buckleys' prenup. Management, naturally, gets pissed at Olympia for helping Amy. While Matty upstairs is suggesting that Julian may have buried evidence and taken a payoff, downstairs Olympia hears a suddenly familiar tale about how Amy's seemingly sweet husband turned out to be a manipulative creep.
But from a story-building perspective, what's most effective about this case is its urgency. While Olympia is grilling Matty, barely giving our heroine a chance to think, she's also rushing to night court to file motions. The team can't get Amy an overnight divorce, so they aim for a restraining order keeping Grant away from the baby—who, by the way, he did not father. The judge is sympathetic, but the lack of hard evidence of abuse is a problem.
As Matty, the contract law expert, enters the scene, another element of camaraderie between Olympia and her is the inclusion of the kindly old lady with a knack for building rapport with clients and witnesses. Whether the lady is a master manipulator or not, her presence is invaluable. Matty delves into the prenup while Billy and Sarah, who have been slinking around Olympia's movements, sneakily find her on the 25th floor. She cunningly lies to them, claiming that Olympia had secretly arranged this exclusive office for her.
The case's swift resolution is hastened by Amy's impending childbirth. But with Matty's assistance—particularly her coaxing of Grant's priest into praising his parishioner's devout Catholicism—the team manages to obtain an annulment, proving that Grant committed fraud by lying about his religious faith to his atheist wife. This technicality is crucial because, as per the prenup's drafting, a divorce would have left Amy destitute.
As mentioned, I'm taking a wait-and-see approach to this episode's conclusion. After all the talk about deceptive husbands, Olympia repeats the "smile in the face of her future prey" routine with Julian that she previously used on Matty. Then she heads to the Kingston estate in Westchester, seemingly joining Matty's side. Or does she? Prior to that, she relives the spy-pen fiasco, feeling panicked and isolated, without even her dad's voicemail for comfort. Such a memory should turn her against Matty.
Yet, one of my least favorite TV drama complications is "I can’t trust you anymore." It's usually a contrivance meant to create temporary rifts between characters (a tactic frequently employed in Jennie Snyder Urman's earlier show Jane the Virgin). And it's been obvious in recent weeks that Matlock is at its best when Matty and Olympia are aligned. Even in this episode, Olympia enjoys brainstorming on Amy's case despite her anger at Matty.
So perhaps we'll see a swift resolution and reconciliation of this friendship, which will be better for the show's entertainment value. But I hope Olympia retains some of her grudge. Now that she knows Matty is not a saint, as Billy and Sarah would have you believe, it will enrich their relationship—and season two—immensely if she keeps this in mind.
