We enjoyed the Perry Mason origin story on HBO/Sky Atlantic. Now it’s coming back for a second run, but we’ll have to wait a little while.
HBO took to Twitter today to inform fans that the series – starring Matthew Rhys as the titular private eye – has begun filming and that it will return to our screens in February 2023.
According to Collider, cast member Shea Wigham says that series is moving into 1933, and the end of prohibition.
More news as we get it.
We’ve been enjoying HBO’s Perry Mason origin series.
Loosely based on Erle Stanley Gardner’s novels, this series is quite unlike the famous Raymond Burr incarnation of the 1950s version – based in Depression-era Los Angeles, Mason (Matthew Rhys) starts as a down-at-heel private investigator tasked with looking into the brutal kidnap and murder of a baby boy.
According to The Hollywood Reporter, the series has been renewed for a second run by the cable network.
“It has been an exciting journey to work with the immensely talented team behind Perry Mason,” HBO programming executive VP Francesca Orsi was quoted as saying. “Viewers have relished being transported back in time to 1930s Los Angeles each week, and we are thrilled to welcome the show back for a second season.”
READ MORE: ALL OUR NEWS AND REVIEWS OF PERRY MASON
One of the major aspects of HBO’s reboot of Perry Mason was its positioning as a re-imagining of the character’s origin story. If the last few weeks hadn’t made it clear, this version of the beloved lawman wasn’t in any kind of close proximity to his previous screen outings – for better or worse. But as this debut season begins to run into its closing quarter, that changed – and pivoted the story dramatically. Suddenly, it became evident the Mason we all know and love may well be emerging in this story after all.
In some ways, that might have been clear in the closing segments of the previous episode, when E.B chose to meet his maker on his own terms, and in doing so, pass the proverbial baton on to Mason. But that wasn’t before poor Della had to make the gruesome discovery of E.B’s body, nor when she called upon Perry to exercise his specific set of skills to re-assemble the scene from a suicide to one of natural causes – so as not to complicate the insurance process. It was with a genuine sadness we saw John Lithgow’s character leave the stage so early in proceedings, but such a dominant performance was stealing some of the limelight from Matthew Rhys’s occupation of the titular role.
Despite Mason’s late leap into legality this week, it was absolutely Della’s episode to enjoy, and Juliet Rylance continues to shine brightly in the role as a woman way ahead of the decade in front of her. It was also an episode firmly about family this week, and especially fathers, not just when the pair of grieving friends take a trip to San Francisco in order to return E.B’s belongings to his estranged family (for all the good that does them), but also in Mason awkwardly visiting his equally distant ex-wife and son as an outlier in the lives of his own loved ones. In that absence of Mason’s own father, or Della’s own issues with hers, there is a definitive bond between them in how E.B performed that paternal role for them both, and with his death the realisation of what he meant to them in that capacity.
Family was central to the Radiant Assembly of God this week too, as a revitalized Alice sought to make good on her donations from fervent supporters to release Emily Dodson on bail and into her home – much to her mother’s dismay. With her tales of resurrecting little Charlie Dodson captivating Emily’s heart, Alice returned to her roots with a tent revival-style set of questionable miracles, and it all points to not ending well for either woman in this complex and toxic co-dependency they have created. Quite where the show is taking them in their storyline is anybody’s guess, but both Tatiana Maslany and Gayle Rankin continue to be equally mesmerizing in their roles so it’s a pleasure to watch regardless.
Elsewhere, little happens on the case itself. With E.B dead, the court appoints Frank Dillon as Emily’s lawyer – who is clearly in cahoots with Maynard Barnes to tank the case. Pete gets made by Ennis as he tries to tail him, only to be told Holcomb is the main villain he should be looking at – which hardly convinces the ex-Vice cop. Drake has a realization of how little power he wields in the real world, and commits to changing that situation with a little support from his wife. The main focus of the episode for most, however, will be of course how Mason comes to be a lawyer – and it’s not how you might imagine (or indeed was previously ever written). Enraged by the clear injustices of Emily’s case and the cronyism destroying her chances, his impassioned speech to Della flicks a light switch on in her mind and compels her to forge a letter of apprenticeship from E.B to place Mason in the running as Emily’s counsel. With a little help on the bar exam (e.g the answers) from a disgruntled Assistant District Attorney, our hapless gumshoe is now a qualified (sort of) lawyer.
Was it believable? It certainly felt a little shoehorned into the general running of the episode, and the kind of epiphany that leads Della to the idea of creating this lawman seemed lifted from some other style of show. That said, it’s arguably what we’ve been waiting for – if not coming a little sooner than anticipated. But with the change comes the opportunity to see Mason in another light, and that will be the interesting thing to witness in the closing episodes – and whether Rhys can make the iconic role his own.
Andy D
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE ONE REVIEW
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE TWO REVIEW
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE THREE REVIEW
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE FOUR REVIEW
Perry Mason is currently showing on Sky Atlantic/Now TV
HBO’s reboot of Perry Mason continues to fascinate as we reach the halfway point of the season, if not for any relevance to its namesake, then definitely for it’s meticulously built world of Depression-era gumshoe shenanigans. There’s a larger question to be asked of the series when it ends if it ever squares the circle on evolving this character into anything even remotely close to its source, but for now with that put to one side the story continues to slowly burn through each episode as Mason begins to piece together the case in front of him.
The main focus in this episode was largely E.B’s faltering sense of his own place in the modern world; a man of stature in another time, now shunned by his peers and desperate for relevance in his parry of words with the thoroughly unpleasant Barnes. Blinded to the severity of his situation, he’s more inclined to disregard Della’s impassioned pleas to pursue Holcomb and Ennis’s assault on Emily in favour of transfiguring that act into some imaginary leverage against the DA’s office – leverage he finds which is ultimately worthless when Barnes reveals he has twisted Matthew Dodson to the prosecution’s side as a key witness.
John Lithgow’s performance as E.B is simply outstanding, informing the character with a mixture of pathos and pomp as he wrestles with his own morality, fluctuating between preening his own pride and crestfallen at his own shortcomings – sometimes in the same scene. If Della is the soul of his practice, then her departure in disgust at his actions leaves him rudderless, slowly spiraling toward the inevitability of professional disgrace as Barnes weaponizes his less than legal dealings with past clients as a path toward disbarment – unless he forces Emily to plead out the case.
Emily again is represented as the locus for everybody else’s personal redemption here, languishing in prison and manipulated by all who cross her path. Whilst E.B woefully prevaricates with her about accepting the plea (“you’ll only have to do twenty years” he explains, helpfully), elsewhere Sister Alice is convalescing but still adamant she will resurrect Emily’s child. There’s a wonderful scene where she eavesdrops on Mother’s embattled meeting with the Elders, who are losing their faith in Alice’s appeal – they weren’t above utilising her as a tent revival miraclist in the past of course, but now they are a ‘respectable’ organisation – and one rapidly losing financial support thanks to the Sister’s heresy. Herman Baggerly tells them he will defund the church unless Alice publicly renounces Emily, but when the time comes she is emboldened by her congregation to double down on her commitment – and promise Charlie’s resurrection on Easter Sunday.
Detective work was light on the ground this week, with Mason and Pete playing hide the body as they attempted to secure George Gannon a second, proper autopsy. Mason’s (correct) theory about their being a fourth man involved in the kidnapping is vague enough to have Barnes swat away E.B’s accusations but worrisome enough for him to put Holcomb and Ennis on blast. It’s still unclear how deep Holcomb is in the dirt with Ennis on this specific case, but he’s not above beating a woman to a pulp so there’s no moral code he’s following anyway. When Mason and Pete re-trace the kidnappers steps back at the crime scene, they uncover the Elks Lodge next door that was used as the escape route – and Mason (unwisely) braces Ennis at his daughter’s recital to remind him he’s closing in.
It’s fair to say Perry Mason isn’t asking a lot of its audience in terms of following complex plot-lines here; the case is straight-forward (so far) and the show seems more interested in developing its characters and how they operate in the world around them. What’s a little more mysterious is where all this is going. Unless EB’s final scenes this week are a poor attempt at a double-bluff cliffhanger, we must assume at some point Mason begins to transfer his moral tenacity into the legal realm in honour of his mentor (because as a detective, frankly, he stinks), otherwise the show is Mason in name only. One would wager audience figures might have something to say about the longevity of that plan, but when you’re not pulling in your character’s core fanbase, whilst neither appealing to noir fans due to that same namesake, it does leave you wondering just who this show is tailored for, regardless of how enjoyable it is.
Andy D
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE ONE REVIEW
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE TWO REVIEW
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE THREE REVIEW
Perry Mason is currently showing on Sky Atlantic/Now TV
There’s a curious mystery developing at the heart of this ongoing reboot of Perry Mason, and it’s less about its titular protagonist than the story itself – wherein the erstwhile detective isn’t really the main focus for his own show anymore. Instead, HBO’s reboot is (perhaps wisely) spending increasing time tangentially exploring the talents of its formidably deep roster of character actors as they navigate the societal dichotomy of 1930s Los Angeles – through the lens of race, gender and class. As such, it’s becoming a fascinating show in its own right, away from the weighty expectations of its namesake.
This episode was, broadly speaking, quite a step forward in terms of narrative from the rather drowsy feel of its predecessor. EB and Maynard Barnes joust at each other through the press in a wonderfully directed back and forth to open proceedings, which might be high times for the distinguished lawyers – but it’s at the expense of Emily, forlorn in jail after being arrested at the funeral of her own child. It’s interesting how Emily has become a lodestar for so many characters so swiftly, with her promised salvation meaning different things for different people – for EB it is the hope of resurrecting his failing career through her redemption, for Sister Alice something deeply entwined in her past but also her present grift as an evangelist. For Mason, she represents something more intangible but compelling – “it’s got its hooks in me” he complains about the case, but it could be just as much about Emily’s maddening inscrutability.
Emily’s treatment is also a sobering microcosm of the way women are perceived and treated in this world. Cast down as an adulterer and child killer, her fate is played off for the benefit of the men around her – in saving Matthew from the noose, in Barnes’ grandstanding misogynist hyperbole, in Ennis and Holcomb’s back-handed violence behind closed doors as they beat the confession from her. It’s no wonder she sighs “guilty” when faced with her charges in court, exhausted from the constant circus around her. Even with Della (Juliet Rylance on great form) and Sister Alice as her supposed saviors, they cannot truly help her beyond providing comforting words. Emily – and it feels the Radiant Assembly of God for reasons unspoken – know her fate is sealed. The question is, who is she becoming the scapegoat for?
Mason might be getting closer to that question, as he provides the catalyst for the main plot developments this episode. When it transpires George Gannon worked for the church when he met Emily, Mason enlists Pete Strickland to dig up his past and see what’s shaking. Turns out Gannon had a former life as a mob accountant, working out of the Lucky Lagoon casino across the border. This doesn’t really go anywhere (other than to provide us with another wonderful scene with the fantastic Lupe, played with pure electricity by Veronica Falcon), but it does serve to get Ennis increasingly worried that Mason is getting too close to his extracurricular activities.
With Gannon’s case ruled a suicide and the remaining bodies in the case neatly squared away as victims of a criminal conspiracy gone wrong, Mason has to turn to Drake for the real truth about what went down in the tenement slum. Problem is, Ennis has got to Drake beforehand with some well-placed threats – so all Mason gets for his trouble is a beatdown, and a reminder of his place in the pecking order of life. Drake’s own conscience clearly weighs heavily on him, despite his wife Clara’s insistence they toe the line to survive their precarious position between two worlds. Clara’s understanding of the situation seems more realistic than Drake’s, who eventually risks everything to give Mason his real account of the crime scene – and provide him with the remaining quarter of Gannon’s dentures.
Despite Mason and Pete’s best (comedic) efforts to fit the dentures to Gannon’s corpse and therefore place him at the scene of the crime, Baggerly has had enough of them all and subsequently fires E.B and his team. It feels heavily implied that E.B is not long for this world, and maybe this awareness of his own impending mortality has inspired him to represent Emily purely for the sake of finding her justice rather than seeking himself notoriety. There’s a similar notion here with Sister Alice, afflicted by visions and voices, awakening from a petit mal to prophecise the resurrection of Charlie Dodson. Quite what strange secrets entangle her heart is a mystery, not least her true motivation in supporting Emily. The show is spending a lot of time focusing on her character (and why not when Tatiana Maslany is so exceptional in the role) but it also portents some greater – darker – involvement in this case, yet to be discovered.
Perry Mason continues to delight, even though the story might be lightweight at best. The core enjoyment from the show remains the ensemble of actors gathered for it, and its incredible world-building around them.
Andy D
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE ONE REVIEW
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE TWO REVIEW
Perry Mason is currently showing on Sky Atlantic/Now TV
What’s in a name? It’s a valid question when it comes to Perry Mason, whose evergreen popularity as a fictional character has seen him gather a huge fan base over the years, which has provided producers with a lucrative slice of intellectual property for some time. But how many actual Mason fans tuned in last week to watch HBO/Sky Atlantic’s new reboot/prequel, as opposed to the channels’ core regular audiences, is up for debate. Certainly, the show premiered with the best overall ratings for a debut episode on the network in the US, grabbing 1.8 million viewers – just a touch over their other popular recent offerings Watchmen and The Outsider. But was it really Mason?
In name yes, but content no – and there’s a problem there in (as our own readers correctly pointed out), as to why the show-runners even called it Perry Mason in the first place, if it shares nothing with it’s source material. It’s a fair point to make – but also a shame for the show – as there is fantastic television to be seen here, that has perhaps needlessly burdened itself with the expectations of it’s titular heritage and will subsequently turn off a great swathe of people who initially tuned in anticipating something more familiar. It might be that it all comes good in the telling of the tale as Mason crawls out of the gutter and into the courts, but on the evidence of the second episode in this “limited series”, that won’t be happening anytime soon.
Indeed, we catch up with Mason actually in the gutter after the beat-down he suffered at the hands of the movie studio’s goons on New Years Eve. His mind drifts back to his service in the trenches of the First World War, and a large part of this episode is dedicated to untangling that particularly dark strand of his past. Needless to say, Mason’s record is a morally ambiguous one, discharged from the Army with a “blue ticket” usually reserved for homosexual conduct, but really here used as a humiliation for him having the goodwill to execute his fellow soldiers as they begged for release, dying in agony on the battlefield. So a man judged for the considerable strength of his character, but equally punished for it – and subsequently, tormented by it.
We also got to spend a little more time in the company of Sister Alice and the Radiant Assembly of God this episode, with the connections between her and the Baggerlys becoming a little more apparent. Alice calls Herman Baggerly’s wife ‘mother’, but is that a genetic connection or spiritual? Certainly, Herman’s money and stature lend Alice’s church a gloss of respectability, a small-scale evangelical inter-racial organisation (presumably rare at the time). Alice is prone to the fire and brimstone style of sermon, and it’s clear her considerable charisma can entrance a room – but her back story seems a little hazy here, and got my noir senses tingling for the signs of perhaps a grifter on another long con. She meets with the Dodsons to lend her support, but seems particularly taken with Emily over Matthew – something immediately compounded when Detectives Holcomb and Ennis arrive to haul him in for an interrogation, overseen by the wholly obnoxious District Attorney Maynard Barnes (played with glee by Stephen Root, last seen in the excellent Barry).
Barnes and the police are quite happy to fit up Matthew for the kidnapping and murder, especially as they hold over him a secret that even his own solicitor didn’t know – Matthew is Herman’s illegitimate son, and that’s cause enough for them to intimate he tried to blackmail his own father. Dodson is dragged through the press pack for a quick jury by public opinion before stepping foot in court – but Mason isn’t so sure of his supposed guilt. In fact, it’s Emily that is the one acting more strangely – feverishly calling the same number without answer. A little Mason magic finds the address to the line she was calling – and one quick burglary later, the discovery of one George Gannon – minus most of his face from a shotgun blast in a supposed suicide. Gannon also just happens to be the last kidnapper who escaped Ennis’s clutches the previous week, but the neatly-arranged scene indicates he eventually caught up with him. A convenient discovery of some love letters puts Emily and Gannon together in an illicit affair, a cache that Mason’s employer E.B is keen to sit on as it’s illegally-gained evidence.
There’s a developing side-story this week which pivots into this, in the work of Officer Paul Drake (the ever-excellent Chris Chalk, who Gotham fans will recall as Lucius Fox) – whose skin colour sees him racially abused by his fellow officers and ostracised by the communities he strives to protect. His predicament brought to my mind the outstanding novel Darktown by Thomas Mullen, which fictionalises the life of the first black police officers in America – not just in his uncomfortable juxtaposition between two worlds, but also his ability to police them in a way his white counterparts cannot. In this case, it’s a panicked landlord that enlists his help to a foul-smelling tenement room, where he discovers our other deceased kidnappers (courtesy of Ennis) – and through some good old-fashion detective work – the top plate of George Gannon’s dentures (evidence which will undoubtedly become more relevant in weeks to come).
Holcomb and Ennis pressurize Drake to suppress certain aspects of his report, whilst also taking the credit for his discoveries. We know Ennis is up to his neck in this caper, but quite where Holcomb sits in the mix is a bit of a mystery still – as to the same with Sister Alice, who’s off-menu but barn-storming sermon at Charlie Dodson’s funeral seems to help seal the case for the police around Matthew’s guilt much to her patrons alarm – only to be caught out of step with the law, when the police arrest Emily outside the church before she can bury her own child. Barnes and E.B had secretly worked together to flip the case upside down, using the love letters as intent, to free Matthew and incarcerate Emily. Mason, as is the case a lot in this show, was wholly in the dark.
It was another episode light on plot but high on style, but when a show looks this good it’s hard to complain. There’s a bubbling of larger conspiracies at work here, that echo those of the best noir tales, but it’s certainly in no hurry to reach its conclusion yet. Certainly, Mason spent most of the episode drifting between characters holding onto a piece of thread, both literally and metaphorically, pulling the fibres out of this mystery, one by one. It will be intriguing to see where he takes us next.
Andy D
Perry Mason is currently showing on Sky Atlantic/Now TV
READ MORE: OUR EPISODE ONE REVIEW
The character of Perry Mason has seen many permutations through the near century of its storied history, the latest being this reboot/prequel (preboot?) on HBO, a ‘limited series’, which the showrunners claim is sourced (or should we say, “inspired”) from author Erle Stanley Gardner’s original novels.
Cast your mind back to 2016 and Nic Pizzolatto, then fresh off the success of True Detective, was originally pitched to write this new take on Mason when the show was (perhaps prematurely) announced, with Robert Downey Jr cast in the titular role. Over the course of the next few years through one developmental hell or another, the show lost Pizzolatto but gained Ron Fitzgerald (Westworld) and Rolin Jones (Boardwalk Empire) to lead production, and while Downey Jr remained on as an executive producer, the title role moved over to The Americans‘ Matthew Rhys to fill. And all things considered, this version looks great, has a great cast and a great period setting. But putting that aside, what you really want to know is one thing. Is this the Perry Mason you know and love?
Well, no. To the surprise of no one, this version of the character is about as far removed from Raymond Burr’s iconic interpretation as can be. And maybe, that’s the point. This is, after all, an origin story – and if Burr’s take on the sharp-witted defence attorney is the character’s culmination, then here he is something else entirely. Rhys is the 10th actor to have inhabited the role, and while he is excellent in that capacity, there isn’t much of Mason about him – yet. What there is though, is the same tenacity, the same contempt for injustice – and the same burning desire to right wrongs. He’s just starting out on this journey but holds that same fire in his heart.
It’s 1931. Mason is a down-at-heel gumshoe in Prohibition-era Los Angeles, a city caught between the glittering lights of a nascent Hollywood and the tailwind of the Great Depression. Fussing over every dime, Mason is permanently broke, working at the bottom of society’s barrel with his partner Pete Strickland (the ever-excellent Shea Whigham) by creeping shots of in flagrante movie stars for jealous partners. It’s a grift he’s not even particularly good at – haplessly becoming the victim in his own shakedown when he overplays his hand with a megalomaniac studio boss. Rhys plays it straight noir, a disaffected war veteran who’s weary with the world – “Everybody’s got an angle, everybody’s hiding something and everybody’s guilty” he proclaims at one point. It’s a well-worn trope, but in the right hands it works, and Rhys makes the role his own.
Into this mix comes Elias Birchard ‘E.B.’ Jonathan (John Lithgow in fine form), a mentor of sorts to Mason who knew his now deceased parents. Elias is a renowned criminal defense attorney who utilises Mason’s somewhat seedy skill-set now and then to break cases, and needs those attributes once more when rich industrialist Herman Baggerly (Robert Patrick) asks them to help investigate a botched kidnapping that resulted in the death of a child. Baggerly’s connection to the destitute parents Matthew and Emily Dodson seems to rest solely in both parties being members of cult-like church the Radiant Assembly of God, led by a svengali-type figure called Sister Alice (Tatiana Maslany, who fans of Orphan Black will recognise). On top of this Baggerly enlists their aid because, as he puts it simply, he does not trust the LAPD to do their job.
That distrust is well placed. The LAPD here are reminiscent of their later incarnation documented by James Ellroy, rotten to the core and peppered with the odd cop that actually gives a shit. In this case, that would be Detective Holcomb (Eric Lange), who spends most of his screen time reigning in his pitbull-like fellow detectives whilst trying to do the thankless task of actual police work. The cops clash with Mason when they like the Dodsons for the abduction, especially husband Matthew, who is a skittish hot-head with something to hide. But Mason sees in wife Emily (GLOW’s Gayle Rankin, wonderful as always) something else, a woman lost in life and incapable of the crime. With a little gumshoe magic he pins an escaping car to the scene of the crime to open the case up and infuriate the police, especially Holcomb’s subordinate Ennis (Andrew Howard) – who was in on the gig all this time.
It’s fair to say this opening episode was light on plot but big on world-building, and what a wonderful world it is. With an expensive sheen reminiscent of Babylon Berlin, the attention to period detail definitely bust a few budgets and would make a BBC set designer drool with envy. Everything looks like a film noir fan’s wet dream, from the cars to the costumes right down to the tiny details with advertising hoardings and film posters. Likewise, this focus spills over into the minutiae of the character’s actions within this world – nice touches such as booze hidden in books or an army of itinerant workers throwing fake snow from the rafters onto a glitzy party below. Los Angeles itself feels like a living, breathing organism – a city on the cusp of change that is caught between the ravages of poverty and the riches of the silver screen.
That period detail also inhabits the script, which snaps, crackles and pops like a dime-store pulp novel. Given that this episode opens on a considerably grim scene (I mean seriously), the show is also surprisingly funny – or maybe, humorous in the Dorothy Parker vein, with acerbic wit shot back and forth like venom from the character’s mouths. In essence, the sharp rat-a-tat-tat rhythm of the dialogue and one-liners feels reminiscent of the era of film it is attempting to replicate (all “fast-talking high-trousers” as Family Guy once famously parodied) – and had me laughing out loud more than I expected I would. It never felt out of place though, and there’s maybe a hint of the role Downey was due to play here in the delivery of some scenes.
For somebody who grew up on a steady diet of Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler, it’s fair to say I was sold on this show before it even aired. Gumshoe shenanigans are my go-to comfort zone so whilst I was happy to enter into the season with a low-ball level of expectations and still enjoy myself, I was overjoyed to see just how perfect this show is. It had a little bit of everything for fans of the genre, and while it won’t win any awards for originality, it was a blast. Is it Mason? Not as we know it – yet. But putting aside that particular issue, there’s a fantastic show here to be enjoyed on it’s own merits.
Andy D
Perry Mason is currently showing on Sky Atlantic/Now TV
Here’s one series we can’t wait for.
Perry Mason is the reboot that we actually might need, and the HBO series – which will be shown in the UK on Sky Atlantic – is an origin story starring Matthew Rhys.
Set in 1932 Los Angeles, the series will tell the story of famed defence lawyer Perry Mason (Rhys), based on characters from Erle Stanley Gardner’s novels.
Living check-to-check as a low-rent private investigator, Mason is haunted by his wartime experiences in France and suffering the effects of a broken marriage. LA is booming while the rest of the country recovers from the Great Depression – but a kidnap gone wrong leads to Mason exposing a fractured city as he uncovers the truth of the crime.
Here’s an extended trailer from Sky Atlantic.
The eight-part series also feature a stellar cast including John Lithgow, Shea Whigham, Tatiana Maslany, Juliet Rylance, and Matt Frewer.
Perry Mason: Monday 22nd June, 9pm, Sky Atlantic (and Now TV)
One of the shows we’ve been looking forward to most in 2020 is the reboot of Perry Mason.
The HBO show – which should be broadcast in the UK by Sky Atlantic – not only has a trailer but also a US transmission date.
Here’s the trailer:
Based on characters created by author Erle Stanley Gardner, the series follows the origins of American fiction’s most legendary criminal defence lawyer. When the case of the decade breaks down his door, Mason’s relentless pursuit of the truth reveals a fractured city and just maybe, a pathway to redemption for himself.
While the rest of the country struggles through the Great Depression, the City of Angels has oil, the Olympic Games, talking pictures, evangelical fervour, and a child kidnapping gone very, very wrong.
Look out for it in the US from 21st June, no doubt following very soon on Sky Atlantic.
One of the series we’re looking forward to in 2020 is HBO’s Perry Mason origin story.
Based on characters created by author Erle Stanley Gardner, the series follows the origins of American fiction’s most legendary criminal defence lawyer. When the case of the decade breaks down his door, Mason’s relentless pursuit of the truth reveals a fractured city and just maybe, a pathway to redemption for himself.
Now we have our first look at Matthew Rhys as the legendary lawyer in his younger days.
Debuting in 2020 on HBO and then Sky Atlantic in the UK, the limited series is set in 1931 Los Angeles. While the rest of the country struggles through the Great Depression, the City of Angels has oil, the Olympic Games, talking pictures, evangelical fervour, and a child kidnapping gone very, very wrong.
ALongside Rhys, the series stars John Lithgow, Tatiana Maslany, Chris Chalk, Juliet Rylance, Shea Whigham, Nate Corddry, Veronica Falcon, Andrew Howard, Jefferson Mays, Robert Patrick, Stephen Root, Gayle Rankin, Lili Taylor, and Justin Kirk.
The Killing Times 