John Lithgow makes ‘Trial & Error’ a win
Nutty professor may have killed his wife in comedy mystery
If ever a series needed to send a thank-you note to its star, it’s Trial & Error.
Granted, this new NBC sitcom is more than just a oneman show. It boasts a clever concept — a truecrime mockumentary about a murder trial — and it has some strong supporting performances from Nicholas D’Agosto, Jayma Mays, Sherri Shepherd and Steven Boyer.
Still, even more than most sitcoms, the comedic success of Trial (Tuesday, 10 ET/PT, then 9 ET/PT, out of four) ★★★☆ rises and falls on its big-name star: John Lithgow as accused murderer Larry Henderson. This comedy mystery from Jeff Astrof, Matt Miller and Jeffrey Blitz requires a tough balancing act: Lithgow has to keep us in doubt over Larry’s guilt or innocence while keeping us interested and amused. Luckily, that’s an act Lithgow handles with seeming ease. Something about the hangdog, somehow unbalanced look Lithgow uses here so often and effectively just makes you want to both comfort Larry and run from him in terror — sorry that he’s sad; worried that he’s crazy.
Imagine a blend of Dexter’s serial killer with 3rd Rock From the Sun’s fish-out-of-water commander, and you have some idea of where Lithgow is going. And then throw in The Crown’s Winston Churchill — not because it has anything in particular to do with Trial, but because it will remind you that Lithgow can do almost anything.
Tuesday’s double episode introduces us to Larry, a “rollercizing ” (not, he continually constantly insists, roller skating) poetry professor in a small Southern town who’s arrested for killing his wife. Convinced Larry is innocent, his brother-in-law hires attorney Josh Segal (D’Agosto), a “Northeasterner,” to defend him. (“They just seem to be slyer than the rest of us.”)
What Josh finds is a town filled to excess with Southern eccentrics and, well, idiots. His assistant, Anne (a very funny Shepherd), has a host of rare medical maladies that cause her to forget faces, laugh at inappropriate times, and faint in the presence of beauty. His lead investigator, Dwayne (Boyer), has a brother who also is his cousin, which should clue you into the bumpkin stereotype he embodies. And his opponent on the other side of the case, Carol Anne Keane (Mays), is both overly ambitious and sexually aggressive.
All told, it’s extremely silly stuff, heavily reliant on running jokes (including Anne’s facial recognition problems), sight gags and Josh’s double-takes at Larry’s outlandish comments.
Still, a good percentage of the show’s jokes land, and the show’s structure (it’s effectively a 13-episode miniseries, with each episode ending with a trial-specific cliffhanger) is a welcome variation on the conventional sitcom form. Plus you have Lithgow, giving another master class in comedy.
Thank you.