Animation suits Las Vegas. From “CSI” to “Hacks,” Sin City has no shortage of representations on television. But the Netflix comedy “Strip Law” — created by Cullen Crawford, an alum of the satirical site ClickHole as well as “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert” — has an advantage in capturing the spirit of its setting. Thanks to the magic of its medium, “Strip Law” can craft a fictional version of Vegas that’s almost as absurd as the actual place: a city where magicians and animals have an annual cage match, beret-wearing comedian George Wallace is the mayor and a law firm’s clients can include an Austin Powers impersonator on trial for puking on an infant.
Said law firm is owned by Lincoln Gumb (Adam Scott), a straitlaced attorney who’s inherited the business from his late mother. Lincoln is a good lawyer, yet lacks the showmanship necessary to win over the jaded, capricious local jury pool: “You’re a Vegas lawyer, but you think you’re better than Vegas,” he’s told in the premiere. So Lincoln joins forces with magician Sheila Flambé (Janelle James), a “human highlight reel” who takes on the title of creative director to give Lincoln’s work a desperately needed dose of razzle-dazzle. Lincoln can file a brief, but only Sheila is willing to electrocute herself in court to prove that heaven isn’t real. (“Strip Law” does provide context for this unorthodox tactic, but it also doesn’t need much.)
Lincoln’s other employees — surly teenage niece Irene (Shannon Gisela), who acts as in-house investigator, and aging fixer Glem Blorchman (Stephen Root) — assist in these efforts, but like the old cliché about “Sex and the City,” the real main character of “Strip Law” is Las Vegas itself. Crawford and his writers cram in sight gags to build an exaggerated, if clearly affectionate, sense of place. The opening credits, which boast that the show was “proudly made by real, non-computer human beings,” speed past various storefronts on the titular iconic street. The signs vary episode to episode, but include “Circumcision by Elvis,” the “Mafia Goons Hall of Fame” and a “Sexxxual Grocery Store.”
The joke density of “Strip Law,” so rare on TV these days, makes it enormously likeable. So do the vocal performances: Scott is perfectly typecast as the downtrodden straight man who his new partner diagnoses with “a terminal case of Pete Buttigieg energy,” while Sheila is even more of a flamboyant wild card than James’ breakout character Principal Ava on “Abbott Elementary.” A meta streak gently pokes fun at the legal procedural genre “Strip Law” toys with the conventions of — “We just have to cut to the last part of these weekly cases where we do something inventive but kind of stupid and then win!” — while a willingness to experiment with the visuals leads to sequences in the style of anime or even live action, including cameos from a couple recognizable comedians.
But there’s also a deftly cultivated backstory that gives Lincoln’s arc some emotional stakes on top of its entertainment value. Along with her partner Steve Nichols (Keith David), Lincoln’s late mom was a great Vegas lawyer. (Credit to the writers of their firm’s jingle: “Nichols and gum, they’re two things in your pocket…” has been stuck in my head for days.) She was also, we come to realize, a subpar parent, and Lincoln’s attempts to both live up to and overcome her legacy reflect his complicated relationship with his hometown. Vegas can do a number on visitors, let alone a local — but “Strip Law” has a fondness for vintage flair and showmanship that proves infectious. Where else could your virtual reality HR training avatar be a composite of every member of the Rat Pack?
All 10 episodes of “Strip Law” are now streaming on Netflix.
Source: variety.com
