I’m not exaggerating when I say I felt the embarrassment in my body. The kind of secondhand embarrassment you get when you walk into a room where everyone is “acting,” but no one knows the scene. The tone keeps dropping, the pacing feels messy, and the dialogue sounds like it was stitched together from leftover lines no one wanted.
Kim Kardashian is the big distraction here. I don’t doubt she tried. I don’t doubt she practiced. But every line sounds like a promo video. Straight voice, calm face, no emotion going anywhere. Her scenes freeze the energy in the room. Instead of watching the story, you become painfully aware you’re watching Kim Kardashian attempt acting.
And the wild part is watching her stand next to Sarah Paulson. Paulson could read a shopping list and make it emotional. She carries every scene she’s in, even when the scene gives her nothing. She blinks, and you feel something. Meanwhile, Kim looks like she’s waiting for someone to yell “cut.”
The script doesn’t help anyone. People talk like they’re not even in the same show. Lines feel random, like each character learned a different version of the script. Nothing sounds natural. The more they try to make it serious, the more awkward it becomes.
What drives me crazy is that the cast itself is incredible. Glenn Close? A legend. Naomi Watts? Always strong. Paulson? One of the best TV actors of this generation. Even Kim deserved a role that actually made sense for her. Instead, All’s Fair looks like someone got excited about casting famous people before writing the part where they’re supposed to act together.
By the end of the second episode, I wasn’t even annoyed anymore. I was bored. And honestly, boredom is worse. At least anger means something interesting happened. Here, nothing does. The show keeps hinting at big drama, but never gets there. It feels expensive but empty.
On paper, I get it. Ryan Murphy, a star-studded cast, a courtroom setting, and Kim Kardashian to bring attention. It all sounds like a hit. But the show doesn’t feel organized. It feels like ten ideas shoved into sixty minutes, fighting for space.
Some people online seem to enjoy the chaos, and I can understand why. There’s a certain “trainwreck” charm to it. It has the energy of a dramatic TikTok video stretched into an hour with famous faces and great lighting.
But for me? It just didn’t land. I waited for that moment where it clicked, and I went, “Ohhh, they’re doing this on purpose.” That moment never arrived.
I’m out after two episodes. There’s too much good TV to sit through something that feels confused about its own identity.
All’s Fair tries to look bold, but it mostly feels lost. Sorry.