We open on a white screen. A funky bass line, the first of many overzealous musical cues, tells us to get ready for the wacky. The white screen morphs into a steamed-up bathroom mirror when a hand reaches out and wipes it down. It's Chris O'Donnell! Who, unlike Renee Zellweger, was unable to leverage the genius of The Bachelor into success on the silver screen. Go figure. Let me just take a moment here to say that, um, ChrisO'Donnelllooksprettyhotinthattowel. Okay, I said it. Let's move on. Payne stares into the mirror, face half-covered in shaving cream, takes a deep breath, and says, "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, if you're looking for someone to blame " trailing off at the end and beginning to look panicked. Quick camera cuts of mental disorder begin, as he again mumbles "someone to blame" and begins breathing quickly. A heartbeat begins thumping over all this breathing and quick cutting. He knocks a glass to the floor, shattering it, seems to finally swallow the panic, and then looks back into the mirror at himself disapprovingly. Hmmm, maybe all won't be quite as wacky as that bass line led us to believe.
Downstairs, Payne's lovely wife pours his adorable son's orange juice. Payne doesn't realize he lives in a Folgers commercial and instead of happily setting off for a day of Irish fiddle playing, he marches down the stairs all, "Where the hell is my Blackberry." Stupid lawyers and their stupid Blackberries. Seeing that his son is playing with it, Payne grabs it out of his hands and tells him, "No games at the table, remember?" before breezing by his hot wife with a perfunctory "Call you later" on his way out the door.
Hot wife Krista "Emmanuelle" Allen follows Payne out of the front door, her sweatshirt artfully skewed on her shoulders. Ah, the start of day in Beverly Hills. I, too, am often found in a state of endearing and precious dishevelment in the morning. Mrs. Payne tries to snark out the line: "That was some good quality time with your son." What we discover, however, is nothing short of groundbreaking. Krista Allen is Mischa Barton's secret drama instructor! And so the line comes out with all the depth and dynamism of a paralyzed flounder. Payne exasperatedly asks his wife if they "can talk about this tonight?" to which she responds, "This afternoon. The meeting with the school psychologist? You've already rescheduled twice." Payne is feeling the pain of the second shift, as he whines, "This is the most important trial of my life. I've got the partners breathing down my neck, half hoping I screw up so they can make Stanton partner instead of me. I gotta go." Stupid Stanton.