And Justice for Mall

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the premise at first—a lawyer defending a mall owned by a pre-teen? But *And Justice for Mall* won me over in the first 20 minutes, thanks to Andrea Emmes’ pitch-perfect narration and E.J. Copperman’s refusal to let the absurdity overshadow the sharp character work. Emmes’ Sandy Moss sounds like the lawyer you’d want in your corner: tired but tenacious, with a sigh that could deflate a dirigible. Her delivery of Sandy’s internal monologues—especially the ones where she questions her life choices—is so relatable it hurts. And Riley? Emmes gives her the bratty confidence of a kid who’s never heard the word ‘no,’ but with an undercurrent of vulnerability that keeps her from becoming a caricature. It’s a masterclass in vocal range. The story’s strength lies in its details. Copperman doesn’t just *tell* you this mall is a disaster; he (and Emmes) *show* you, from the scent of pretzel grease in the courtroom to the way Sandy’s heels stick to the food court floor. The legal plot is surprisingly tight—no hand-waving here—though the mall’s over-the-top antics (a grenade? *Really?*) occasionally strain credulity. My only gripe is the pacing in the middle act, where a subplot about Sandy’s love life feels tacked on, like Copperman wasn’t sure whether to lean into the rom-com or the farce. And while Emmes’ male voices are serviceable, a few secondary characters blur together. But these are quibbles. By the time the climax unfolds in a courtroom/ad hoc roller rink, you’ll be too busy laughing (and cringing) to care. If you love cozies with bite—or just need a legal thriller where the biggest threat might be a rogue Sbarro pizza—this is your jam.