Is there a more fortuitous branding decision than Johnnie Cochran not choosing “If the glove’s too small, easy call” for his closing argument? Whether or not this was actually an option for Cochran is unknown to me, but if it was, he dodged a historic bullet. Maybe OJ still would have been acquitted, but I have a difficult time believing that such a clumsy rhyme would have joined “Where’s the beef?” and “Sit on it, Potsie” in the pantheon of highly era-specific catchphrases. Our society would be poorer for it.
The scene of Cochran composing the summation of his case (and the most memorable occasion of his career) is but one of many connecting-the-dot moments in the final episode of The People v OJ Simpson. We see Gil Garcetti’s realization that his political ambitions have been dashed; Robert Kardashian’s severing of ties with OJ; the firming of Fred Goldman’s resolution to never stop fighting for justice; and Simpson’s growing isolation in freedom. It’s an episode that thankfully does not try to submit to the audience a Grand Theory of the OJ Simpson Trial. Lesser works have made that quixotic attempt at grandiose profundity, but any attempt to distill all of this into a easy-to-understand morality play with a handy message at the end would cheapen the very real events being dramatized.
What Larry Karaszewski and Scott Alexander (along with finale director Ryan Murphy) wisely choose to do is focus on the characters and the resolutions of their stories. Sure, the OJ trial was about race, but what it meant to the people involved in the case varied wildly. We see Cochran and Christopher Darden part ways, both physically and ideologically, for good in the wake of the not-guilty verdict.
Cochran truly believes he has struck a blow for racial equality in America. The sight of President Bill Clinton talking about police tactics on CNN nearly brings him to tears. To him, a corner has been turned. But Darden, still stinging from the jury’s rebuke of his best efforts to convict Simpson, believes that the tide won’t turn because of the acquittal of one very wealthy, very famous black athlete.
In a way, they’re both right, and the genius of this show is that the writers and directors rarely assign more or less legitimacy to either interpretation of the significance of the moment. Cochran’s worldview is that of the optimist that believes in the possibility for real change in the system. He used every tool at his disposal – including an accused killer – to force America to notice the unchecked brutality of the LAPD of the time. In the wake of OJ, the gains for African Americans are notable: Obama, Beyoncé, increased social mobility and a shifting demographic balance that threatens white hegemony in the nation.
Darden, on the other hand, represents all the ugliness we want to ignore in favor of the triumphalist narrative that comforts so many in the black community. OJ’s acquittal did not end police brutality or systemic racism in the United States. The country has been grappling with this problem for years since the Simpson trial, and in a way, it feels like it’s only gotten worse over time. The criminal justice system is still tilted against black people in his country. It’s telling that Mark Fuhrman, the racist pariah of this story, found a home as an analyst for Fox News. One can only wonder how Cochran, who died in 2005 of a brain tumor, would have dealt with not only this recent epidemic of racial animus, but also his former nemesis being given a platform on national television to talk about it. Time marches on, gains are made, but some intrinsic aspects of humanity never change.
Society might be slow to evolve, but individuals are not. Darden and Marcia Clark are beaten, left questioning their choices, and isolated. Through it all, they have each other. Despite their romantic relationship stalling, through the second half of the series, their connection deepened. What we’re left with is Clark’s reveal of her own sexual assault while on vacation in Italy, the thing that motivates her to strive for justice. One gets the sense that this is not a personal detail she shared with many people. The way Sarah Paulson plays it is not as a victim, but, like Fred Goldman, as a person whose mission is clear, even if the path to success is not. No other character on this show has endeared me to the real person quite as much as Paulson’s Clark. I will be shocked if she doesn’t walk away with an Emmy and a Golden Globe this year.
But the series ends where it began, at Simpson’s estate on Rockingham Avenue in Brentwood. Cuba Gooding Jr has never really caught my attention during this series up until this point. He’s been overshadowed by flashier characters and stronger performances. I’ve probably said this before, but it’s a curious thing that a show called The People v OJ Simpson would have such a hazy, distant view of the titular figure. In the show, he is defined by little more than his petulance and simmering anger. The finale does quite a bit to reverse that, though. The concluding act of the episode is focused almost exclusively on Simpson – his elation at winning freedom and the sense of isolation that creeps in once he returns to Brentwood. No one wants to be his friend, except for sad AC, whose entire self-image is derived from OJ.
Robert Kardashian abandons him, he can’t get a table at his favorite restaurant and the only people at his welcome home party are hangers-on and waitstaff. Guilty or innocent, the trial has cost OJ the charmed life he used to enjoy. Gooding finally impressed me, after 10 episodes, with the sadness he is able to convey in those final scenes. His conception of OJ is that of an overgrown child used to getting what he wants at all times; someone who was always able to sweet-talk himself in or out of any situation. His realization that he’s been stripped of that social superpower is well-played and recognizably human.
As a viewer who knows what comes next, it’s even more tragic. OJ is found responsible for Ron Goldman’s death in civil court and is required to pay the Goldman family $33.5m, a bill that he grotesquely tries to avoid by moving to Florida. Simpson eventually ends up in prison for 10 counts of kidnapping, robbery and assault, stemming from a dispute over sports memorabilia. His sentence promises a maximum of 33 years in custody.
The cards at the end of the episode revealing every principle character’s fate remind us that OJ is eligible for parole next year. That parole hearing will be yet another chance for society to revisit and unpack the trial’s significance. That this series was so riveting and superbly crafted points means that our OJ obsession is not likely to end any time soon. Maybe we love it, because it’s the perfect story of a fall from grace. Or it could be that we share Clark and Goldman’s undying thirst for justice. It’s why we dig up knives from Rockingham, theorize about other potential killers, and parse the many tomes and schlocky cash-in documentaries on the subject. Ignore all of the sociological implications of what happened in 1994 and 1995, and all we really want is to know who did it. And sadly, that’s the one question we might never be able to answer.
