How To Get Away With Murder Delivers A Whole Lot Of Not Much
The two-hour season finale should have lasted about eight minutes.
Am I an Atlantic City sap in a boater hat and linen blazer, trying to guess which cup is hiding the marble? Because I feel like I just got conned, y'all. Conned but GOOD. And the stinger is none other than How To Get Away With Murder, a flim-flam master of the highest order.
Because see, this whole damn season has been throwing crisis after crisis at me and insisting that it's all leading somewhere. But now that I've endured two endless hours of the finale, I've realized that we were at a dead end all along. However, since I've already given 15 hours of my LIFE to this mess, the show wins.
Okay, enough of the extended metaphor. The point is this: Laurel's dad ordered a hit on Wes because Wes was sleeping with his daughter. Meanwhile, because of the events from Season 2, D.A. Denver was so obsessed with convicting Annalise of a crime that he framed her for Wes's murder, which led to Annalise's prison time and such. But after a few lucky breaks and a little good sleuthing, Denver got exposed, thus freeing Annalise. The sleuthing also uncovered a conveniently vague voicemail from Wes that made it plausibly seem like he killed Rebecca. Therefore, the final story delivered to the public is that Dead Wes committed all the previous crimes.
And that's how we wrap up stories that have been playing out for three years.
...AIEEEE! It's just so stupid! Can you believe how many dei are in the machinae here? The "gotcha" reveal of Laurel's dad. The "gotcha" reveal of the crooked D.A. The "gotcha" reveal of Wes's exculpatory voicemail. This all gets shoved in at the last minute, and while it technically ends the story, it also invalidates everything that has come before. All those fights and flights and late, boozy nights amount to nothing.
So why were we here all season? Oh, I know. Because this show has to fill the space between commercials.
Oh yeah...we were also here to conjure up some "moving" scenes where both Connor and Oliver & Michaela and Asher confess their love to each other. Because that feels really organic in the midst of all these rugs being pulled from underneath us. And let's not forget the only reason it's really worth being here at all: The hundred million scenes (in the finale alone) of Annalise crying and talking about how Dead Wes really felt like her son. Viola Davis makes this work, of course, just like Karla Souza makes Laurel's Wes-related grief seem real. But this only makes me wish these gifted performers could get on a better show. A show that has the decency not to negate everything we've invested in just so it can reboot for next season's fake-out twists and turns.
Next year, maybe we'll find out that Wes really WAS Annalise's son. Maybe we'll find out that ASHER is Annalise's son. Maybe Oliver will confess that he killed Rebecca, even though we saw Bonnie do it. Maybe some random waitress from three episodes ago will turn out to be a hitwoman hired to shave Frank's eyebrows in his sleep.
Or maybe other people will find that out. Because as far as my life goes, this show ain't gettin' away with ANYTHING anymore. Blankenship out.