Anyone who watched the trial unfold in real life likely remembers all too well its ingrained theatricality, from Judge Ito’s (Kenneth Choi) obsession with all things celebrity to the introduction of imbecilic Kato Kaelin (Billy Magnussen) as a key witness. Yet, to the series’ immense benefit, Murphy, who is known for alienating histrionics in American Horror Story and Glee, is content to stick to the facts. Writers Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski take great care not to speculate on elements of the case that weren’t already elucidated by their inspiration (Jeffrey Toobin’s 1996 book The Run of His Life). Still, their pacing is impeccable, and the series glides through the discovery of the bodies and O.J.’s subsequent flight in a Bronco with a slick efficiency that never stands in the way of it digging into each relevant individual’s psychological turmoil.
It would be hard to give spoilers for the series, given that almost everyone watching is familiar with this case, so instead of wondering what happens next, American Crime Story gains intrigue and momentum from exploring questions of why and how. The trial upended many lives, and the story of how it took shape as a shameful miscarriage of justice, bolstered by the 24-hour news cycle and rampant politicization of its central subjects, is a fascinating one.
And with the stunning ensemble assembled by FX, it’s given a suitably dramatic and compelling treatment. Vance is the clear standout, especially as American Crime Story takes the time (in its fifth installment) to lay out how he became devoted to exposing racism at the heart of American court and police systems. When Cochran locks horns with prosecutor Christopher Darden (Sterling K. Brown) over issues of race, with both performers operating at the absolute peak of their powers, each successive scene proves more electric than the last. Paulson is also fantastic, humanizing a figure too often turned into caricature by the media with emotion and energy. It’s a better performance than anything in her previous Murphy collaborations. Elsewhere, Gooding Jr. brings nuance to his portrayal of O.J., first capturing his horrific breakdown (complete with suicide threats and violent outburst) then his quiet retreat inwards once incarcerated.
Surprisingly, the only actor who doesn’t quite manage to sell his character is John Travolta, playing Simpson’s opportunistic attorney Robert Shapiro with a tad too much melodramatic flair. The over-the-top way in which he renders Shapiro’s manner of speech is unnecessary and, worse, distracting – the actor’s flamboyant sensibilities would be right at home on Murphy’s other FX series, but they feel out of place here.
That Travolta’s camp is a weak link actually points to a greater net positive about American Crime Story: The People V. O.J. Simpson. Though it’s beautifully shot, tautly written, and acted within an inch of its life, the series is uncommonly committed to the truth. It peers into the intricacies of a notorious case and presents the political and moral realities it contains, using a modern lens to capture the cultural shading that partly escaped national notice two decades ago. In doing so, it shows beyond all reasonable doubt that the O.J. Simpson case is still infuriating, intriguing and painfully relevant today. Murphy should be commended for suppressing his more lurid tendencies and playing it both smart and straight – after all, when dealing with a case this darkly comic, peculiar, unforgettable, and unforgivable, who needs embellishment?
