Shoes dangling from a telephone line are never a great sign. Though urban legends warn teens about gang violence, drug deals, and death, we don’t always know why a pair of orange Chuck Taylors end up there. But in the case of Perry Mason’s opening scene, we have an idea who owned them, and that doesn’t bode well for Ozzie Jackson.
Last week, Paul beat Ozzie senseless to appease Perkins. After he returned home, we assume Perkins’ crew finished the job and made a late-night stop at the shoe graveyard outside the convenience store. The shoes are a bad omen that spread a sinister atmosphere throughout the episode. This exposition-heavy installment of Mason, while light on revelation, is hopefully setting us up for the final stages of the case. But after last week, “Chapter Fourteen” feels like a comedown, stalling for time as we get to the all-too-quick final reveal.
Despite last week’s break-in, Perry’s doing alright. Milligan’s resting their case, and Perry bought a big, honkin’ chain to keep his apartment locked. He’s not the only one who’s a little closed off. Anita asked Della to move in with her, forcing her to make an adult decision and cut ties with Hazel, something she doesn’t seem ready to do. The way Anita reassures Della that “lots of women” share apartments is another indication that the series plans to deepen their relationship rather than exclusively viewing them through the prism of oppression, like Mad Men’s Sal Romano. It’s refreshing to see a period show that allows its gay characters the dignity of living a life outside of the closet.
While Della’s feeling confident in court, there are bad vibes all over the episode. Della sees her old boy Ham Burger (just the absolute wildest name since Oliver Twist’s “Master Bates”—Erle Stanley Gardner, you absolute madman) and gives him the “blink twice if you’re in danger” routine. He shrugs it off with a not-so-reassuring “Good luck with your case.” Della and Burger (mmm…Dellaburger) is a thread that can’t unravel fast enough. Justin Kirk has looked like he’s been dealing with an ulcer for two weeks now, and the people demand answers.
Speaking of the unexpected relationship turns, that sorry sack of potatoes Holcomb is back, having just about the worst morning a corrupt cop-turned-gambling-ship-impresario can ask for because the Moroccan’s electricity is out, and Paul’s serving subpoenas. So it’s time for Holcomb to put his tail between his legs and beg Perry for help, arriving at his enemy’s office to find a locksmith screwing in a lousy deadbolt. Holcomb offers Perry the advice of installing a “double cylinder,” a suggestion Perry should’ve taken.
A chronic sufferer of being awake too long, Holcomb cannot testify without flushing his life down the toilet and hopes to avoid the L.A. sewer system by bargaining his way out of testifying. So he offers Perry a massive—but very bizarre—piece of evidence at the beach in exchange for avoiding the stand. Holcomb can go on living his miserable, pathetic life, and Perry gets a new puzzle piece to fit. Rhys dismisses Holcomb’s pleas with abject disdain, scrunching his chin, shaking his head, and shrugging his shoulders. Whatever professional respect one might assume these two might have for each other is gone. Lange’s compelling and sympathetic performance just isn’t working with Mason.
Mason offers another deal: He’ll go to the beach with Holcomb in exchange for Noreen’s medical records from San Haven. True to his word, Holcomb snips a dangling thread in the case and hands over the file, which contains photos of Noreen when she was committed to San Haven, with marks around her neck that look suspiciously like Brooks’ belt.
This episode was a mixed bag, but there was at least one stand-out scene: Della’s cross-examination. As Perry dives into questioning, Della requests a chance at the stand with Councilman Taylor, Noreen’s brother and a key witness in their defense. As in the fingerprint testimony last week, the show’s courtroom scenes are as gripping and surprising as ever, with an unassuming Juliet Rylance leading the procession. Episode director Nina Lopez-Corrado makes it clear how shocking this scandal would’ve felt in 1933, which Della, of course, weaponizes, playing to the female jurors by wrapping the belt around her neck and squeezing, with the episode cutting to the server from the Moroccan jolting as the belt tightens. She remembers that side of Brooks, too.
With two episodes left, the case looks like it’s coming together. Della’s cross-examination was a homerun, thanks to Holcomb. As per the deal, Perry will go to the beach with him. No guns, just rotten fruit covered in oil. The McCutcheons were hiding this, though we have no idea why. At least we know why Holcomb was asking about seagulls.
Even with Della knocking a few dingers in court, Milligan’s prosecution has the upper hand. As we probably should’ve expected, Pete Strickland was behind the mysterious assembly of the model train last week. We see him in a hilarious but relatable bit of screen violence as he tries again to break into Perry’s home. (The soundtrack underscores Pete jamming his fingers with a screeching discordant note that expresses the pain of getting a finger caught in a door beautifully.) After being foiled by Perry’s big-ass chain and negged by Milligan, Pete, we assume, decides to try his hand at tossing Mason’s office for evidence. We hate to say it, but when a scumbag like Holcomb gives you security advice, take it. Unfortunately, Pete found the pistol in Perry’s safe, which throws the case and the episode into disarray.
The gun reveal happened a hair too quickly, especially when the prosecution knew or assumed it was the murder weapon. Why couldn’t this just have been a gun in the safe? It seems risky to bust out in court and definitively call it the murder weapon. It took Paul a lot of investigation to confirm, and the prosecution hasn’t even done ballistics yet. Ultimately, this reveal was a little sloppy for the typically clever Mason.
Still, the case is straining everyone’s relationships. Earlier, Paul ruined date night by accosting someone in orange All-Stars. This was a little domestic amuse bouche to Della and Hazel’s break-up, which mostly happens off-screen, and finally, Perry’s late-night accusations at Ginny’s apartment. After Milligan presents the gun to the judge, Perry immediately heads to Ginny’s and accuses her of giving the gun to the cops. Earlier in the episode, she repeats a line Della used to describe Perry’s new beau. Now he assumes she heard about the gun and gave it to the prosecution. In contrast to the lovely Japanese dinner earlier in the episode, the fight feels realistic and scary—even if the motivation is more difficult to swallow.
And with that, the episode comes full circle: Paul standing under the same telephone wire the bloody shoes once hung. He’s tracked down the mysterious car connected to Brooks’ murder and the guy wearing Ozzie’s shoes but they slip through his fingers.
The shoes are a perfect symbol of Paul’s internal conflict about where he’s at in the case. His questionable tactics are now responsible for one man’s death, and now someone else is walking around in that dead man’s shoes. As we said, the shoes are a bad omen, spreading bad vibes and infecting Paul with a short fuse and a suspicious chip on his shoulder. He’s ruining dates, yelling at Mo, and still coming up short. Like Holcomb, he’s got a bunch of puzzle pieces that he can’t quite make fit. We do too.
Stray observations
- Title Card Corner: The long shot of the new shoe owner gazing up at the wire was a strangely unsettling image. However, this season has done us one better by making things like ordinary grocery stores integral to everything going on. We have Sonny Gryce to thank for that. When they show the market in the first shot and later on Mo’s stakeout, we have so much insight into the chains of corruption, the internal politics of the trade, and how it relates to the Los Angeles underbelly. These locations take on so much more meaning with that background, allowing the city to come alive in a way that reminds me of The Wire.
- One thing I love about Perry and Holcomb’s relationship is that there’s no respect between these two. Perry loathes Holcomb, and we assume the feeling is mutual. However, he was unmoved by Holcomb’s pleas because if the roles were reversed, Holcomb would bury Mason.
- “I can recommend a good public defender.”
- I’m glad Perry admitted he doesn’t know what’s happening with the fruit because that left me scratching my head, too.
- “Do you like seagulls, Mason?”
- We assume they’ll explain more about how they knew the gun was the murder weapon in the coming weeks, but it still felt rushed. Maybe it’s because the rest of the season felt so evenly paced and patient with its revelations. Maybe I’m nitpicking. Maybe it’s Maybelline.
- Are we supposed to assume the guy in the shoes is important? We know he got those Chucks from a telephone line. Is he just a distraction for a splintering Paul?
- I saw some comments about Anita possibly working against Della. This certainly seems like a fair reading considering all the betrayal in this episode. But I hope that’s not the case. To me, Anita, like Camilla Nygaard, reads as Della considering her options, a more fulfilling life away from Perry. There are still episodes left, though.
- I’m not sure what to make of the scene where Della smokes pot with
Camilla Nygaard. I was even less sure of what to do with it after she passed on the joint. Live a little and succumb to peer pressure, Della. All the cool kids are doing it.
