By Brett Shaw
“Why is your penis on a dead girl’s phone?”
This is only one of the many jaw-dropping cliffhangers that consumed social-media feeds with each episode of “How to Get Away with Murder.”
The 2014 breakout hit comes from the legendary Shonda Rhimes, who also created cult favorites such as “Scandal” and “Grey’s Anatomy.”
“How to Get Away with Murder” follows five first-year law students who get twisted into the destructive life of Annalise Keating, a law professor played by the Oscar-Award-winning Viola Davis. As Keating and her top students work on dramatic court cases for clients, their personal criminal acts can’t keep from complicating situations.
Whether sleeping with witnesses or hacking the District Attorney’s office, their actions tend not to be those of model defense attorneys. They will, however, get the job done.
I would love to further set up the plot, but it’s impossible without robbing potential viewers of mind-blowing revelations, even in the first episode. Briefly, let’s just say somebody’s husband gets murdered, he deserved it, and it leads to several other murders.
Season 3, which wrapped up two weeks ago, shifted its focus from the single-episode story arcs of the court cases and toward the more involved plot lines centered on the Keating crew. This season, the characters faced their guilt and attempted to evade repercussions as both the law and their enemies closed in.
The show employs its signature time-manipulated style, opening the season with Keating’s burnt house and an unnamed body bag before depicting the months leading up to the fire. Viewers cling to their screens as additional flash-forwards throughout the season drop clues as to who is dead and if Keating actually killed them.
As a whole, while hectic and brutal, the events that unfold in “How to Get Away with Murder” are in no way a fantasy. The show covers the rawest of human experiences such as alcoholism, infidelity, HIV, mental health, pregnancy, and abuse.
“How to Get Away with Murder” can only exhibit this range of authentic tragedies because of the refreshing diversity in the show. Of 11 main characters, merely two are straight white men.
By representing a multitude of genders, races, and sexualities, this morbid drama gives audiences exposure to unfamiliar cultures and also strong role models for groups who typically don’t see themselves represented on television.
When the first season began showing on TV, I was strongly moved by Connor Walsh and Oliver Hampton, two unconventional gay characters. While I was happy to see gay romance normalized on television, I was more ecstatic about how they were portrayed.
Their homosexuality was a minor detail compared with more pressing plot lines that faced them such as law school, deception, and murder. At 16 years old, it was inspiring for me to see gay characters whose lives went beyond their sexualities.
I will never suffer the pain of losing a child or be subject to the psychological torment of the American prison system. However, when these traumatizing events affect Viola Davis’s character in the third season, her simultaneous vulnerability and power as an actor give viewers an insight to authentic human experiences.
I envy those who have yet to start the show, for they will not suffer the agonizing weeks between episodes or months between seasons. The first two seasons can be found on Netflix, and the third will be released March 23. Fair warning: This show will never be “just one more episode.” It will consume your life as each episode pulls you into the next until you become obsessed with the plot and characters, perfect binge-watching material.