Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Dustin Rowles | TV | February 25, 2025
Is Suits: LA good? That’s not even a question worth asking. The original Suits was never good. Search your heart, Suits fan. You know it’s true. I watched every single episode, even the prison season. Even the Heigl season with Dulé Hill — a man so talented he could probably convince you that candy corn is palatable.
But the real question isn’t, “Is it good?” It never was. The only thing that has ever mattered about Suits is this: “Does the show think it’s good?” That’s the franchise’s secret sauce. It’s confidence — the difference between an insecure man with a full head of hair eating takeout noodles alone on a Friday night and a self-assured bald man taking in a ballgame with his beautiful wife and four kids.
Suits: LA, like its predecessor, doesn’t have a single hair on its goddamn head, but it struts around like it’s about to win an Emmy. And that’s the beauty of it. This show believes it’s Glen Powell at the Top Gun: Maverick premiere, even though it’s really Anthony Edwards in Revenge of the Nerds. The Suits franchise thrives on the Dunning-Kruger effect: it’s so convinced of its own greatness that we, the audience, just go along for the ride. Deep down, we know the truth — it’s kind of sh** — but somehow, we let ourselves forget.
That brings us to Josh McDermitt. You know, Eugene from The Walking Dead. He’s the perfect metaphor for Suits: LA: What it thinks it is vs. what it actually is.
We all know exactly what we’re watching, yet we willingly suspend disbelief. Why? Who the hell knows? That’s the magic of Suits. For no discernible reason, we let ourselves believe that cocky, attractive people are in an entertaining show. It’s like the opposite of rooting for the underdog. It makes no sense. And yet, here we are.
Now, Stephen Amell is no Gabriel Macht, and the lack of facial hair is frankly unsettling. But in the pilot, he’s a passable facsimile as Ted Black, a self-assured Los Angeles entertainment attorney who — oops — gets blindsided by his business partner, Stuart Lane (the aforementioned McDermitt). Ted thinks he’s signing a merger agreement — the sacred manila folder makes an appearance — but it turns out he’s actually signing away his entire legal team.
Absurd? Of course! But that’s what Suits is built for: rivalries. This time, it’s entertainment lawyer vs. criminal lawyer. To twist the knife, Lane also poaches Ted’s right-hand man, Rick (Bryan Greenberg), though Erica Rollins (Lex Scott Davis) stays behind as Ted’s new head of entertainment. By the episode’s end, Ted gets some revenge, stealing Lane’s wealthy tech client, Lester (Kevin Weisman), who, for added drama, is on trial for murder.
There’s some personal baggage, too. Thankfully, Suits: LA doesn’t hinge its premiere on someone lying about going to law school. Instead, Ted has some deep-seated daddy issues — resentment toward his dying father, who abandoned him and his brother, Eddie (Carson A. Egan), a sweet kid with Down syndrome. No doubt this will inform all his future actions, which he will carry out with a smug expression that, for reasons we can’t explain, we will absolutely root for.
That’s the mystery of Suits. I don’t get it, but I’ll be here for the next 3, 5, or 9 seasons, willingly getting bludgeoned with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer in a skimpy dress. Bring it on.
