Convicting NBC's Latest Lawyer Series

What do young Manhattan lawyers have to do with "The Flying Tomato"? Everything, if you're NBC. To promote its latest courtroom drama, Conviction, the network battered viewers during the Winter Olympics with a blitz of 30-second spots as unyielding as an alpine blizzard. That's standard Olympic procedure. But given the once-proud Peacock's miserable showing over the past two seasons, it's likely executives were paying extra close attention this year, hoping that maybe—just maybe—viewers will find the series just as entertaining as redhead Shaun White nailing a backside 1080.

"Last year was horrific," says NBC Entertainment president Kevin Reilly. "We don't have the rocket fuel right now to lift us to the next level, but things are genuinely happening, and some of these [new] shows are definitely moving in the right direction."

No Sir, Dolly Is Not a Clone!
That's a debatable assessment, especially given the been-there, done-that feel of Conviction. Within the first five minutes, Law & Order faithfuls will just know they've seen all this before as they watch what amounts to yet another franchise spin-off. Not that they should be surprised, given that the show's executive producer is L&O creator Dick Wolf. And that the cast of characters includes L&O: Special Victims Unit's former assistant district attorney Alexandria Cabot (Stephanie March), who's now back from a two-year TV hiatus as a New York City bureau chief.

Sorry, NBC, Cabot's scant screen time and questionable connection to her previous SVU life isn't helping to dissipate the déjà vu. Neither are producers' efforts to create a tone that combines the quirkiness of Boston Legal with the zippy youngblood feel of Grey's Anatomy.

Not Quite a New Sensation
On the plus side, Conviction's characters wrestle with doing the right thing. Despite knowing that a crack-addicted rape victim will return to her dead-end lifestyle, an attorney fights for the prostitute's human rights ("What this guy did to you, it's not OK, no matter how you make your living," she tells her). Another legal representative refuses to let justice be mocked and threatens to prosecute his own client if she won't testify against a cold-blooded killer.

Still, there's no mistaking any members of this DA's office for Ben Matlock. The two aforementioned lawyers drown out their courtroom worries with "strings-free" bedroom trysts (which Wolf shows parts of). And if attorney Brian Peluso's (Eric Balfour) struggle with a gambling problem—and an attempt to blackmail him—is any indication, viewers will likely see dark sides to every legal hero.

Like other series in this genre, Conviction revels in sensational, ripped-from-the-headlines stories. An early case involves a college coed who smuggled cocaine out of Costa Rica by swallowing 12 condoms full of the powder. When one burst and she began overdosing, her drug pusher sliced open her small intestine just to save his stash (thankfully not onscreen). Another episode features a 14-year-old who, after years of abuse from his older brother, finally broke and took a baseball bat to his sibling's head.

Beyond repeatedly describing the gory details of such cases, the show follows the now-standard investigative-show routine by displaying grisly photos, bloodied crime scenes and re-enacted events. It also tosses in a surprisingly hefty dose of envelope-pushing language. That, along with homosexual subplots, cross-dressing jokes and sex scenes that rival NYPD Blue's steaminess, makes it clear that, for all of their conviction, Wolf and his crew lack discretion.

Trying to Become CSI?
Which brings me back to pondering why NBC opted to pick up this show. With the network currently airing no fewer than four legal dramas, Conviction further crowds an already overpopulated lineup. So why in the world would Reilly and others claim that putting on another sleazy suit-and-tie series is a move "in the right direction"?

CBS currently reigns with its CSI trifecta; maybe NBC's game plan is to conquer its competition with sheer perseverance and force. If people liked one L&O so much, why not try three or four or 10! Like a snowboarder with more bravado than skill—more adrenaline than common sense—NBC just doesn't know when to say "When."