All's Fair 2025 Tv Series Review Trailer

This review contains plot details from the first three episodes of “All’s Fair,” which are now available on Hulu.

Creators: Jon Robin Baitz, Joe Baken, Ryan Murphy
Stars: Kim Kardashian, Naomi Watts, Niecy Nash

The fact that a legal drama supposedly about female empowerment begins with a pilot episode written and directed by men probably tells you everything you need to know about “All’s Fair.” In fact, of the three episodes currently available on Hulu to commemorate the series premiere, only one features a significant creative credit from a woman, and it’s shared between executive producer Jamie Pachino and co-creator Ryan Murphy, who collaborated on the script for Episode 2. 

But this is a review, so I’m obligated to elaborate: “All’s Fair” is a clumsy, condescending take on superficial, triumphalist feminism, undercooked even by the standards of the overworked Murphy, who co-created the series with Joe Baken and Jon Robin Baitz. Admittedly, the tone is intentionally campy, and if you squint hard enough, you might discern the faint outlines of a parody. But that’s little consolation when “All’s Fair” demonstrates such a low opinion of its own viewers, assuming we’ll clap like seals when fed disjointed snippets of witty one-liners, flashy outfits, and lamentations about how awful men are.

Reality star turned lingerie mogul Kim Kardashian is well-cast as divorce lawyer Allura Grant in her first starring series role, because “All’s Fair” reminds me a lot of another unscripted series filmed in the Los Angeles area. (Kardashian’s eponymous show also airs on Hulu, making “All’s Fair” an effective piece of corporate synergy, if not serialized storytelling.) As Allura, her partner Liberty Ronson (Naomi Watts), and investigator Emerald Greene (Niecy Nash) strut around their gleaming office in impractical outfits, they are indistinguishable from the cast of “Selling Sunset,” who also unconvincingly feign professional work while doing their real job, which is looking good on television.

The trio’s law firm, which they founded a decade before the events of “All’s Fair” in an opening scene that awkwardly delivers exposition, specializes in divorce and exclusively represents female clients. Renowned attorney Laura Wasser, the “divorce queen” according to the tabloids, already immortalized by Laura Dern’s Oscar-winning performance in “Marriage Story,” and who represented Kardashian in her own separation from Kanye West (and before that, Kris Humphries), serves as a consulting producer. (“All’s Fair” was also the name of Wasser’s former podcast.) But “All’s Fair” isn’t exactly interested in exploring the nuances of family law, nor the collision of the professional and the personal when a divorce lawyer’s own marriage ends, as when Allura’s husband, NFL player Chase (Matthew Noszka), decides to leave her. The premise is little more than a pretext to assemble a cast of actresses we might call Murphy’s Angels.

Allura, Liberty, and Emerald seek the sage advice of their mentor Dina (Glenn Close, in a role beneath her “Damages” caliber) and confront their arch-nemesis Carrington (Sarah Paulson), in full Alexis Carrington Colby mode, who, of course, is bitter and jealous about not being part of the sisterhood. Not even a long-time Murphy muse like Paulson can elevate this material, which forces her to spew insults like “bitch” and “goddamn idiots” in a constant stream of vitriol. 

At least she, Kardashian, Nash, and Close are credited as executive producers. If the series doesn’t allow them to do good work, at least it gives them a flashy title. Every client on "All's Fair" is a variation on the same superficial story: a rich man, a wronged woman, and sweet revenge. (The only time homosexuality appears in the series is in the context of a heterosexual divorce.) In just three episodes, this structure is repeated with such predictability that it quickly becomes tedious. 

There's a slightly interesting narrative thread in casting previously maligned and misunderstood figures like Elizabeth Berkley and Jessica Simpson as clients, but any cultural commentary is overshadowed by the cruelty with which the series treats its characters. Berkley's character commits suicide by jumping from a balcony outside her office window; Simpson's character goes insane and attacks her ex with sulfuric acid. It's as if "All's Fair" can't help but humiliate these fictional women, negating any attempt to dignify the actresses who play them. Kardashian is unaffected, because her role doesn't demand much of her to begin with. 

Watch All's Fair 2025 Tv Series Trailer