Ed. Note: Our intrepid TV and Movie Critic, Harris County Public Defender Alex Bunin, reviews the new show “all rise” in the new “wokelaw” genre.

A new CBS legal show debuted this week called “all rise.” The lack of capitalization is a metaphor for the main character’s ascension to a Los Angeles Superior Court judgeship from modest origins. The lowercase bailiff’s call to order is meant to imply she is humble, different, and a “first” for the job, albeit not the first African-American, not the first woman, and not the first former prosecutor. She is allegedly “first” because she cares about criminal defendants. Her otherness is emphasized by her face-plant climbing onto the bench the first time.

The show’s presentation of defendants as complicated persons, even victims themselves, is a refreshing change from Law & Order’s parade of evil. However, like most fictional legal shows, “all rise” skims past serious issues in favor of tidy outcomes. This includes a number of “that does not really happen” moments.

Public defenders are regular characters, but they are not the heroes. The two shown in the pilot fared poorly. In mitigation, one (Jessica Lopez) had her own domestic abuse to deal with. The writers should consult Los Angeles County Public Defender Ricardo Garcia about what his lawyers actually do. Although the term is not uttered, “progressive prosecutors” are the stars, including Lola Carmichael who becomes a judge. The most important traits shared by all the characters are that they are young, attractive and therefore potential mates.

In an opening scene, Lola, the almost-former-prosecutor-but-not-yet-judge parks her car on the roof of a courthouse garage. She puts her laptop on the car’s roof as she adjusts her two coffees in their cardboard tray. This creates a moment for a passing young thief to run off with the laptop. The victim’s former prosecution partner, Mark Callan, happens to be sitting in his car and drives into the perpetrator just hard enough to knock him down while the two friends stand over him jovially discussing what to do. Mark predicts this is the young man’s first step into a life of crime. Lola treats her assailant as a mere nuisance and tells him to run. Her decision is not consistent with any of the prosecutors or judges that I know.

It is unclear whether the show is meant to be a comedy or drama. Much of the dialogue is adversarial repartee between sniping friends or tactful enemies. Judge Lola is schooled by a judicial assistant (Sherri Kansky), forced on her by the chief judge, Lisa Benner. Previously Lola’s nemesis, Sherri announces, “Speed is the name of the game.” Lola responds, “Where does justice fit in?” Leaving the room, Sherri replies, “Close second.” That is also a good summary of the whole show.

The most dramatic scene, I mistook for a dream sequence because it was so bizarre. Before becoming a judge – and it is unclear when that was because she is never sworn in – Lola walks into a courtroom where a young woman wearing underpants is arraigned for multiple parking tickets. (Garcia tells me it is highly unlikely anyone goes straight from the street to Superior Court in street clothes.) Apparently, Lola is the only one sensitive enough to notice this and chastises everyone, including a stoic white bailiff, who then becomes unhinged, starts a racist rant and fires his weapon. A black deputy (Luke Watkins) arrives and shoots his comrade. A second later, good deputy Luke and harried public defender Jessica are making goo-goo eyes on the cafeteria line, cheerfully reminiscing about the courtroom carnage.

Most of the legal work on the show happens so quickly that it is tough to critique. I did see a bunch of exhibits come in through a witness who had no personal knowledge of them and had no idea of where they came from. Maybe it did not matter. However, this is clearly a program in which the characters are meant to be much smarter than the viewers. Whether they actually are or not is debatable.

I expect future episodes to show trials much like Mark’s. He prosecutes an alleged robber who decides to represent himself. The humor – and it might be that the show is a well-disguised comedy – is all at the expense of the defendant. The point is that Mark is brilliant – sort of. In his opening, Mark explains that the robber (seen clearly on videotape) is clean shaven. In the courtroom the defendant has a long hipster beard and a man-bun. It is obviously the same guy, who is now under the illusion his courtroom skills and hirsute appearance will win the day.

This should be a laugh and then the scene should end, but no. Defendant calls Mark to the stand. Virtually every judge in America would shut this down, but Mark previously cross-checked His Honor in a pick-up hockey game. Defendant is allowed to elicit that Mark’s father is a small time mobster. This was where Perry Mason is supposed to shout, “Incompetent, irrelevant, immaterial.”

Only on television could it be implied that Mark now needs a stroke of genius to win. He was already way past reasonable doubt when he played the video. Nobody cares about his deadbeat dad. However, in an effort to win hipster’s confidence, Mark charms the defendant, praising his advocacy, but saying he made one mistake. Defendant begs to learn his error. Mark reluctantly tells him that juries think bearded defendants are guilty. The defendant shaves during a break and is then convicted. What a great prosecutor!

The main plot line of the series is Lola’s struggle upon leaving her role as prosecutor and becoming a judge. A judge has different priorities than lawyers, such as keeping an efficient docket, or as Sherri says, “Speed.” What is strange is that it never feels like Lola was ever a prosecutor. In her first scene, when she lets the thief go, I thought she and Mark were defense attorneys. All her internal battles are between being a reactionary judge (“Sphinx-like” as Mark says), and being a community activist. If she was a “progressive prosecutor,” it would be nice to know what that looked like – pretrial diversion for all?

I have known many lawyers who became judges. There is always some change in philosophy and demeanor. Some by-the-book prosecutors become tough on their former colleagues who do not meet their rigid standards. Some defense lawyers fear appearing weak on crime, so they become overly punitive. I always joke to ones I know who are going to “baby judges’ school” that they should avoid the device put in their ear to suck half their brain out. The reaction is usually their mild horror that I would think they will change in any way.

• I saw the trailer for the next show. Lola will apparently have to decide whether to intervene against immigration agents seeking to take away a non-citizen in her court. She wants to help, but her brethren look askance. What will she do? Hopefully, she covered her ear at judges’ school.