Wild Vegas Animated Courtroom Comedy 'Strip Law' Can’t Escape Its Own Bad Jokes

Picture Credit: Netflix

Strip Law throws so much at the wall with very little that sticks. The adult animated sitcom is a close cousin of shows like Big Mouth and Paradise PD, shows with a very similar philosophy – low-maintenance 2D animation made up for by absurd humour. However, in the case of Strip Law, the humour doesn’t quite do enough to make the show appealing. What we have instead is an inherently absurd and fun premise that’s done a disservice by the jokes themselves, which come as frequently as rainy days in London. Somehow, Strip Law’s most interesting asset is its perspective on modern sensationalised society and how it infects our institutions.

Set in Las Vegas, Strip Law revolves around Lincoln Gumb (Adam Scott), a down-on-his-luck lawyer looking to kickstart his practice in the wake of his mother’s death. Lincoln’s by-the-book methods clash frequently against the heightened echo chamber of Las Vegas, where theatrics and drama are valued over truth and justice. This is represented in the opening scenes of the show, where Lincoln is interrogating an Austin Powers impersonator who won’t drop the bit, and closing arguments are introduced by bikini-laden women you’d find at a wrestling match. Lincoln’s luck turns around when he runs into Sheila (Janelle James), a street magician with an innate understanding of what makes Vegas tick.

Though it closely follows the visual framework laid out by adult animated sitcoms over the last 30 years, Strip Law does have some minute details that make it a bit more distinct. For one, the characters have a bit more expression in their eyes, their wide oval shapes being quite malleable and expressing a bit more emotion than the stiff ping pong ball type eyeballs that we’re used to. Being set in Vegas, many of the scenes are drenched in neon, which is really fun to look at too. The visuals do leave a lot to be desired in the flat and beige courtrooms and offices, which a lot of the show takes place in, a purposeful parallel to the madness outside the window, but one that brings out the worst in this art style.

If you’re going to make a show with an uninspiring visual palette, you need the comedy to carry the audience along. Unfortunately, Strip Law confuses a lot of jokes for good jokes. The moment-to-moment banter between characters is painfully ‘punched up.” Every interaction feels the need to be funny, which hampers the flow of any conversation and makes the joke itself an awkwardly delivered dud. Even moments in the show that are meant to be more serious, depicting Lincoln’s sadness or his strained relationship with his daughter, feel the need to be lined with gags. It doesn’t help when a lot of those jokes are based on pop culture references that never feel cleverly woven in, but dropped at your feet like your cat delivering you a dead bird.

The visual comedy works a lot better than the written comedy, just for its mere absurdity. Here, the heavy-handedness of the show works a lot more as it throws images your way that are so silly that the only response available is to laugh. Sometimes the show will try a bit too hard to push the absurdity as far as it can in a way that feels strained and uncomfortable, like when Santa gets mauled by a purple King Kong. However, the quick, passing glimpses into Vegas life are much more satisfying while building up the world of the show in a natural way.

The anaemic comedy in Strip Law is an even bigger letdown considering how well the show sets up fun sitcom premises. The idea that Lincoln has to legally prove that someone is Santa or is ordered by the court to coach a basketball team or comes up against a corporation that has replaced a town’s water supply with alcohol should provide a basis for entertaining episodes, but the show goes nowhere near far enough with those ideas.

Strip Law’s sensationalised court cases and depictions of those in power swaying with corporations do give it an actual perspective on modern society, something that not many animated sitcoms have been able to achieve. It’s brought up to the highest degree and is comfortably more absurd than anything in the real world is at the moment, but at its core, this is a story about someone trying to do the right thing in a world where increasingly fewer people have the best interests of the public at heart.

There’s no world in which Strip Law is better off as a more serious show that delves deeper into those themes, but the fact that they exist shows a level of conscious care that isn’t present in the rest of the series. Sometimes a great premise can allow a show to coast, still being entertaining without working too hard. Strip Law is not one of those shows, and was in desperate need of a spark, whether that’s in the visuals or the writing. As it is, Strip Law is another adult animated sitcom that leans into the worst habits of the genre.