Kelley makes case for reality TV

For years, David E. Kelley had lived with the fear. The lawyer-turned-writer/producer, known for his evocative fictional legal eagles and his prolific way with words, sensed it was only a matter of time before the booming reality genre he so despised crossed into the television world he had created.

“When reality television was proliferating, I was a great champion of the idea -- I so loved it -- that I thought, ‘Oh, my God, what’s gonna happen next?” the creator of “Ally McBeal,” “The Practice” and “Boston Legal,” said facetiously.

“Somebody’s gonna come along and do what I’m doing on ‘The Practice’ for real,” he said. “And I thought if somebody did come along and told those little stories, not necessarily the A-murder stories but the little stories that we tell in the practice of law, the stakes are just exponentially bigger when you know those clients aren’t actors. It would be far more compelling than anything we could offer. So it really was a fear that I lived with.”

The fear turned into reality in more ways than one. Enter David Garfinkle and Jay Renfroe, partners at Renegade 83 and the producers of “The Surreal Life” and “Blind Date,” who were seeking to make reality television “more real.” The duo had conceived a legal-based unscripted series that would pit 12 civil litigators against one another as they tried real-life cases in front of judges and juries whose verdicts were binding. But the producers were missing one element:

“If we could somehow work it out where lawyers were really trying cases on TV, where there are real consequences and real verdicts and real people, we thought that could be an incredible drama,” Garfinkle said. “And the guy who created all the dramas in the ‘90s and in the year 2000 is David Kelley. What better person to partner up with?”

That might have made absolute sense if Kelley hadn’t been so public about his anti-reality sentiment, even dedicating one episode of “The Practice” in 2003 to slamming unscripted fare with a story line about a woman so obsessed with reality television that she kidnapped CBS top honcho Leslie Moonves (who played himself) to get her 15 minutes of fame.

“Renegade came up with the concept, which coincided with my biggest fear, if you will,” Kelley said. “But what appealed to me about it was that it was not going to be a forum to exploit or take advantage of the contestants, which is where I find reality television at its worst. It just degrades the people and the television medium as well. But where reality television can be more noble is when it offers its contestants the opportunity to succeed, such as what an ‘American Idol’ does or even ‘The Apprentice.’ Where those shows work best is when those contestants come on and surprise you with their talent and their intelligence. And this endeavored, at least, in the conceptual stage, to be such a show.”

So Renegade and David E. Kelley Productions joined forces to create “The Law Firm,” which premieres on NBC on July 28. And the first order of business became hiring a managing partner who would run the law firm, evaluate the performance of the lawyers and decide who got to stay and vie for the $250,000 cash prize. Kelley’s top pick: prominent trial attorney and legal analyst Roy Black, who has represented high-profile clients, such as William Kennedy Smith and Rush Limbaugh.

“I’d always been a fan of his, not just as a lawyer -- he’s a great lawyer -- but I was also very impressed by his television acumen,” Kelley said. “I’ve watched him on the ‘Today’ show for years, and he has a very finely tuned sense of getting into the center of a conflict and the issue. That’s obviously something important in television: someone who can articulate it quickly and hold the interest of the viewers.”

Black was intrigued when he first spoke to Kelley, but it wasn’t a fast sell. A trial lawyer for 35 years and a professor at the University of Miami law school, Black asked for personal guarantees from Kelley and NBC Universal President Jeff Zucker that “The Law Firm” would be a sophisticated, legitimate courtroom show that would give viewers an inside look at the work entailed in preparing a trial without embarrassing or humiliating the participants.

“What I was really interested in was showing how the lawyers really are, not the sort of image the public has,” Black said. “The public has no idea how much work lawyers do behind the scenes. They don’t know it takes 50 hours of preparation for every hour in court. They think we all show up in a nice three-piece suit and start talking in the courtroom, without knowing the kind of work it takes beforehand.”

To set up the law firm, producers sorted through 5,000 civil cases in alternative resolution banks across the country, seeking a broad spectrum of topics as well as levels of difficulty. For each case, both parties had to agree to have their case televised and to be bound by the court’s findings. The cases were tried in front of retired judges who applied the laws of the states where they originated, following California trial procedures.

The lawyers, selected from 1,000 candidates, were assigned cases such as neighbor disputes, 1st Amendment issues and wrongful deaths. Winning didn’t guarantee staying at the firm, Black decided, because “in the law, it’s not always the best lawyer that wins the case. No lawyer should be penalized because the facts of their case were not as strong as their opponents’.”

Black’s deal included another caveat: As managing partner of the firm, he wanted to be the sole evaluator of the contestants. That is, producers were not allowed to whisper in his ear to keep the most charismatic lawyers in the mix for the sake of good storytelling.

“Roy would have none of that, nor did I want it either,” Kelley said. “So it preserved the integrity of the show and also offered the potential of a bust. What would happen if the four best lawyers lived up to everybody’s preconceptions of lawyers and that is, you know, boring and verbose? As it turned out, I think we were protected because litigators are the most dynamic trial lawyers, but Roy had a free hand. He wasn’t interested in making television stars here. He wanted at the end of the day to hire lawyers that people at home would hire if they got into a legal jam.”

As a result, the producers created a contest stylistically reminiscent of “The Apprentice” but with a heartbeat the entrepreneurial competition has never achieved. The 12 lawyers of “The Law Firm” range in experience and pedigree, as do the cases Black assigned them.

“ ‘The Apprentice’ is about business, but the people are not practicing their professions on the show,” said Jeff Gaspin, president of NBC Universal Cable Entertainment and Cross-Network Strategy. “On this show, the stakes are higher because they’re not being judged on whether they can come up with a good campaign for a product even though they might not be in advertising. They’re being judged on what they do for a living, and the stakes are much higher for them.”

Not surprisingly, much of the series’ drama harks back to Kelley’s fictional world of imperfect lawyers and colorful characters, though Kelley admits that even his imagination could not conjure the people and cases portrayed on “The Law Firm.”

When a dog owner whose two mastiffs attacked a neighbor’s three-legged dog declares in court, “You could cut all the legs off and he’d be a menace to society,” one opposing lawyer makes a blunder that leaves all the lawyers in the room with their mouths agape. In another heart-pounding episode, one set of lawyers discovers its client’s case is based on lies, and the drama that ensues is both engaging and poignant in its revelation about the flaws in the justice system.

“Invariably, every lawyer encountered a particular subject matter outside his or her area of expertise, and that definitely was challenging because you have comfort zones as lawyers, and when you’re presented with a new subject matter, it’s just another obstacle to overcome,” said Aileen Page, 35, a solo civil practitioner in Atlanta. “But being on this show made me a better lawyer and a better person. It’s the ultimate test for a trial lawyer in terms of courtroom skills, endurance and being able to function and thrive in an intensely stressful, hot-pressure situation.”

A former prosecutor who graduated from Georgia State University College of Law in 1996, Page was horrified that her sister had entered her in the contest.

“There was no way I was going on a reality TV show,” she recalled. “I’m a professional woman. I’m a serious lawyer. That is ridiculous. When I found out it was a David E. Kelley show, it immediately had credibility and legitimacy because not only is he a lawyer but so much of his career has been dedicated to exploring the lives and experiences of lawyers. I know he loves the law and he loves lawyers.”

Page had a change of heart, but has Kelley? Has reality television’s Public Enemy No. 1 turned the corner on the road that leads toward little grooms and bachelors and bachelorettes?

“No!” Kelley gasped. “But I did think I might do one on a Nielsen family because all I would need is for those families to watch.”

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Law shows that keep up appearances

Producer-writer David E. Kelley has based much of his career on the notion that lawyers can be beautiful people too. “The Law Firm,” his new reality show, seems intended to prove that he has not just been making this up. (Kelley, who was a lawyer himself, is also evidence of this.) The law itself has been of varying importance from Kelley show to Kelley show, but what’s constant is a hierarchy of hotness that’s perhaps more Hollywood than Harvard Law -- and then again maybe not.

‘Ally McBeal’

Reedy, distractible Ally McBeal (Flockhart) seemed a lawyer by incident rather than by inclination, even appearing on the cover of Time as the debased face of feminism. The show was a fantasy at heart, a humorous soap opera as much “That Girl” as “L.A. Law” (where Kelley cut his teeth).

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‘The Practice’

Smoldering good looks externalize smoldering inner conflicts in the person of McDermott’s low-profile defense lawyer Bobby Donnell. The most serious (and not coincidentally, darkest-looking) of the Kelley shows, it included in its cast actors “normal-looking” by Hollywood standards.

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‘Boston Legal’

Spader’s handsome blankness jibes well with his ethically challenged Alan Shore, while erstwhile small-screen idol Shatner’s cosmetically preserved youth suits the character of

Denny Crane, a man preternaturally attached to his own legend.

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‘The Law Firm’

Clearly cast for their resemblance to actors, this group of young attorneys, competing for big money in a “Survivor”-style competition, evince, if anything, less depth and greater self-approval than their fictional counterparts. Tiresome company, but nice to look at.

--Robert Lloyd