Inferno

Altruistic, high-achieving Tommy Laudadio always imagined using his law degree to help people on a grand scale. However, a foolish mistake led to a criminal conviction, and now his only path to redemption is accepting a menial job as a file-clerk at a firm of distinctly unethical divorce lawyers. And so he descends, Dante-like, into The Law Offices of Archie Divine.

Day after day, Tommy has a front row seat as Archie, a bullying narcissist of Trump-like proportions, and his henchman Leonard ensnare prospective clients through Archie’s bluster and Leonard’s oily charm. After that, Tommy’s job is to assist the attorneys who, whether from greed, apathy, or incompetence, run up the clients’ bills and mismanage their cases. He feels complicit in all of it and would quit on the spot…if only it wouldn’t destroy him personally and professionally.

A menagerie of wounded, distraught, and vindictive clients parade helplessly through the office. Vince, a disbarred attorney who guides Tommy as Virgil guided Dante, warns Tommy early on that he is not the clients’ therapist, not their friend, and definitely not their legal adviser, but from episode to episode Tommy can’t help trying to be all those things. Usually, his efforts make things worse.

Tommy’s tribulations are compounded by Leonard, a master manipulator who loves having him on the hook. Tommy’s only chance at getting the upper hand is Rebecca, the firm’s mysteriously ethical and competent managing attorney. Her attraction to Tommy (complicated by his fiance, an ambitious ER doc) sets in motion a gradual and unlikely-to-succeed rebellion.

Along the way, Inferno satirizes the entire, catastrophically broken family-law system. Everything Tommy tries is futile; every possible outcome is tragically absurd. Inferno’s outlook is bleak. Did we mention it’s a comedy?