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Stephen Amell's new legal procedural is guilty of taking too many cues from the streaming era

Stephen Amell, Suits LA
David Astorga/NBCNetflix was both the best and worst thing that could have ever happened to Suits. While the smart, sexy legal procedural originally aired on USA Network, its success there was nothing compared to its second life on streaming. Suits took Netflix by storm in 2023, becoming an unconventional sensation almost overnight. For those who'd watched the show in its initial run, seeing its resurgence offered a potent dose of vindication. Now everyone could see what they'd seen 10 years ago. Total newbies likewise found comfort in its low-stakes bingeability. Its success on the streamer could have been a one-and-done phenomenon, but NBC naturally saw a prime opportunity to expand the world of the series… and capitalize on the Netflix boom.
Fast forward a year and change, and now we've got Suits LA. It's not a direct sequel to the series that started it all: While original Suits star Gabriel Macht is set to appear sometime this season, the narrative connection between these two shows is tissue-thin. Instead, most similarities manifest behind the scenes. Suits showrunner Aaron Korsh is back to helm the new spin-off, as are most of the writers and producers. That results in some familiar beats, and a tone that teeters between soapy stakes and breezy, aspirational fantasy.
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For all the ways it invokes the classic comforts of the 2010s, however, Suits LA is also a product of the streaming era. It may not have anything to do with Netflix, but it's definitely taken a page from the streamer's playbook. The new series feels like an attempt to reverse engineer Suits' success on the platform, creating prime material for "casual viewing" while honoring the soul of the original series. That makes a lot of business sense, but combining past and present is easier said than done.
Our story focuses somewhat clumsily on Ted Black (Stephen Amell), a smooth-talking prosecutor with a successful Los Angeles firm. As he explains to a potential client, few in the city are more successful, or more qualified, than he is. Like a grislier Harvey Dent, Ted spent years in New York City facing off against the criminal elite. He never lost a case there, and it's a streak he's continued in his 10 years on the West Coast. His character is almost entirely wrapped up in that convenient (if heavy-handed) nugget of information, and so much of Ted's world is explained in similar fashion. The pilot uses clunky dialogue to introduce us to most members of our cast, like Erica Rollins (Lex Scott Davis) and Rick Dodson (Bryan Greenberg), two dueling associates working under Ted, or Stuart Lane (Josh McDermitt), a rival waging war against Ted's firm.
Ted's relationship with Stuart is the exact inverse of Suits' bromance between Harvey Specter (Macht) and Mike Ross (Patrick J. Adams), but it nonetheless forms the heart of the new series. They were once inseparable partners, with Ted focusing on the glossy world of entertainment law and Stuart carving out a niche in criminal defense — but their friendship soured as Ted started taking Stuart for granted. Stuart answers that disrespect by merging with another firm run by Ted's ex, Samantha (Rachelle Goulding), and poaching all but a few of Ted's best clients. The first three episodes provided to critics are mostly concerned with laying out this drama, positioning Ted and his remaining allies on a mission to rebuild. The problem is that we never really get to see any of that drama unfold in real time. So much of the action occurs off screen, forcing our cast to talk us through what could have been truly compelling moments.
It's here that Suits LA's allusions to the Netflix model feel the most glaring. The streamer specializes in shows you could technically watch while scrolling on your phone or folding laundry, all without missing a beat. The writers of these shows accomplish that feat by forcing characters to announce everything they do, and everything going on around them, for those barely paying attention. Suits LA follows that same brief, replacing smart, clean copy with watered-down exposition. Characters explain their plans before, during, and after the execution, but with allegiances constantly shifting, it's not any easier to follow. Even the inciting incident that drives the first wedge between Stuart and Ted — an incident that could have told us a lot about their relationship — is recapped in a later conversation. It's a jarring way to lay out such a complex story. And sure, maybe there was a bit of that in the original Suits too… but at least it had the courage to trust its audience in other ways.
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Suits worked so well because it took its time. It built up its characters and their relationships through season upon season of strong storytelling; its conflicts hit harder because we understood who the ensemble was, and why it all mattered to them. Suits LA, on the other hand, starts with what could have been a bombshell of a season finale. It throws us into the deep end and expects us to catch on as we go, dropping familiar Suits-isms like breadcrumbs to follow. A lot of that manifests in vaguely familiar characters. At turns, Ted evokes both Harvey at Mike: He's a pretty boy with the instincts of a shark, but he's also running from a professional blunder that nearly ruined his reputation in New York. (The series gives us morsels of his backstory through shoddily rendered flashbacks, setting up a season-long mystery.) Erica also feels like an amalgam of two characters. Like Gina Torres' Jessica Pearson, she's never not thinking of ways to improve her position. Suits LA also wastes little time setting her up for a "will they, won't they" with her work rival Rick, evoking the slow burn between Mike and Rachel Zane (Meghan Markle). Even Harvey's loyal secretary, Donna (Sarah Rafferty), has been reincarnated in Roslyn (Azita Ghanizada), a doting assistant who exists solely to deliver the most blindsiding news — like, say, "Your father has three days to live" — with a totally straight face.
Even without the shadow of a truly great show looming over it, Suits LA just can't seem to find its footing. Suits got by well enough with its case-of-the-week conceit; it consistently stretched the limits of corporate law into thrilling new shapes. Entertainment law is another beast entirely, but it's not rendered here with much pizzazz: Our power players are mostly here to manage egos, secure film schedules for emerging starlets, and push character actors into the next phase of their careers. Juxtaposing all the Hollywood hijinks with the life-and-death world of criminal defense also feels like a mismatch. While Erica and her associate Leah (Alice Lee) try to appease clients like Brian Baumgartner (playing a version of himself who is tired of all the typecasting he's endured after The Office and now wants to become an Oscar-winning actor), Ted takes on the case of a big-time exec accused of murder. There's no reason why these two plots can't live side by side: other procedurals have found ways to juggle much wilder themes. The problem here may boil down to an identity crisis. Suits LA can't reconcile the new, lowered expectations of the TV medium with the show it wants to be, and that sabotages any genuine attempts to keep the franchise alive.
Premieres: Sunday, Feb. 23 at 9/8c on NBC
Who's in it: Stephen Amell, Josh McDermitt, Lex Scott Davis, Maggie Grace, Bryan Greenberg, Troy Winbush, Alice Lee, Gabriel Macht
Who's behind it: Aaron Korsh (creator), David Bartis, Doug Liman, and Gene Klein (executive producers)
For fans of: Suits
How many episodes we watched: 3