The harried group of state Supreme Court judges who inhabit CBS' Queens Supreme don't have much time for any feel-good motions. As led by Oliver Platt, this be-robed bunch is too busy dealing w./ the chaotic legal system to waste time worrying about party affiliation or ideology. Not for them the niceties of liberal guilt: sitting in judgment on a case of alleged racial profiling, Annabella Sciorra's judge looks at the guilty black defendant's sweat-suit and concludes its fabric was unsuited to innocent jogging. Held hostage by a whacked-out juror whose thwarted desire for a cigarette has led to his pulling a gun on judge & fellow jurors, Platt's Jack Moran effortlessly lies to get the man to drop his guns. As one juror notes, Moran's a great lawyer even if he is a lousy judge.

Platt’s protagonist - the fast-talking, doubtless self-destructive reprobate - is a character he's played before (and, c'mon, can you see the guy playing any other part?) But he's suited to the rough-&-tumble milieu of Queens Supreme: a place so tough it has Big Pussy delivering coffee to the judges' bench. As usual, Platt's character's actions make him a pain-in-the-ass to everyone else, including estranged wife Kristen Johnson (damn, I forgot how much I missed watching her on television!) But I'm betting it'll also make his show more enduring than the squishy Mister Sterling - even if Moran does have Doogie Howser's bud working for him as a law clerk.

And any law show w./ the smarts to use Warren Zevon's "Lawyers, Guns and Money" as its opening theme has hooked me several weeks just on principal. . .