The teaser for All's Fair, Ryan Murphy's new Hulu series, doesn't just make an entrance. It struts into the courtroom, tosses its coat on the judge's bench, and dares you to object. Featuring Naomi Watts, Sarah Paulson, and Glenn Close—with Kim Kardashian front and center—this isn't just prestige TV trying on designer heels. It's Succession meets Desperate Housewives with a shot of espresso martini to the face.
“What do you ladies think you could possibly hit me with that I haven't seen before?” asks a smug male lawyer. The answer? A gavel made of pure vengeance, bedazzled in female fury.
Legal Drama, Rewritten With Lip Gloss and Blood
Let's get the obvious out of the way: yes, it's glam. Yes, it's loud. And yes, it leans into the kind of excess only Ryan Murphy could make feel almost self-aware.
But here's the twist: underneath the soapy tropes and rhinestoned dialogue, All's Fair is positioning itself as a Trojan horse. This isn't just about fierce women in tailored pantsuits—it's about how the power structures of the legal world crack when women stop playing nice.
There's subversion happening here. Think about it: a female-led law firm breaking off from a male-dominated institution? That's not just plot—that's commentary. In a post-MeToo, mid-postfeminist landscape, the series is clearly looking to start arguments, not settle them.
Murphy's Method: Glamour as a Weapon
Ryan Murphy has made a career out of camp-as-commentary. From American Horror Story's gothic nihilism to Feud's sharp social dissections, he's always known that sparkle is just another tool for subversion.
But All's Fair might be his most direct strike yet at real-world power dynamics. By framing female ambition and legal brilliance as both seductive and deadly, Murphy weaponizes aesthetics the way Shonda Rhimes once weaponized monologues.
This teaser doesn't just nod to past Murphy-isms—it shouts them. You'll catch echoes of The Politician's satirical gloss and Glee's acidic melodrama. But the closest cousin? Nip/Tuck—where sex, status, and identity all blurred into a dangerous cocktail.
Only this time, the surgeons have law degrees.
History on Repeat, But Louder
We've seen all-female legal ensembles before—The Good Fight comes to mind, or even Ally McBeal if you squint through the 90s haze. But All's Fair dials it to 11.
What's different now? Two things:
- Cultural Timing. In the age of prenups gone viral and celebrity divorces litigated on TikTok, this show's setting isn't niche—it's clickbait-ready.
- Casting Shock Value. Kim Kardashian, stepping out of reality TV and into Ryan Murphy's high-drama cathedral, is no accident. She's the litmus test: does celebrity still carry gravitas, or has it finally collapsed under its own weight?
Final Verdict?
You'll either love this or hate it. And that's the point.
The All's Fair teaser doesn't want your approval—it wants your obsession. It wants you to tweet, to fight, to question if Naomi Watts and Glenn Close are about to become your new courtroom OTP. It's not prestige TV. It's spectacle dressed in legal briefs.
Would you let these women represent you—or ruin you? Sound off below.
