Davis Of How To Get Away With Murder Crossword
Let's talk about How to Get Away With Murder. Specifically, let's talk about the crossword puzzle aspect of it. Yes, I know what you're thinking. "A crossword puzzle? In a show about lawyers and murder?" Bear with me here, folks. This is my totally unpopular opinion, but I think the whole series is basically an elaborate, albeit very dramatic, crossword puzzle.
Think about it. You've got your clues. They're usually delivered by Annalise Keating herself, often in a booming, intimidating voice. She's the ultimate crossword creator, isn't she? She sets the terms. She knows the answer. And woe betide anyone who can't figure it out.
Then you have the students. They're the crossword solvers. Bless their hearts, they try. They're all smart, or at least think they're smart. They pore over the clues, they brainstorm, they whisper theories in dark corners. Sometimes they get it right. More often, they get it spectacularly wrong, leading to even more drama. It's like when you're doing a crossword and you have a word that just won't fit, and you have to backtrack and erase everything.
And the answers? Oh, the answers are rarely straightforward. They're usually convoluted, surprising, and involve a whole lot of people getting very, very angry. It’s not like your average Tuesday New York Times crossword where you fill in "CAT" for a furry pet. This is more like, "What obscure legal precedent from 1847 explains why Wes Gibbins is secretly related to the judge's dog walker?"
The showrunners, of course, are the supreme crossword masters. They've got all the pieces laid out. They know exactly where every little clue connects. They’re the ones who designed this intricate web of lies and alibis. They're the ones who know that "red herring" in clue 7 Down is actually a literal red herring in clue 15 Across, which leads to a hidden message about a third murder weapon.
I mean, imagine Annalise sitting at her desk, sketching out the week's "case" like it's a Sunday New York Times puzzle. "Okay," she'd muse, tapping her pen. "Let's make this one a seven-letter word for 'accidental drowning that looks like murder.' Hmm, 'MISCHIEF'? No, too light. 'MAYHEM'? Closer. Ah, 'DECEPTION'! Perfect. And the clue will be a cryptic hint about a faulty swimming pool pump."
And the students! They’re constantly trying to connect the dots. They’re looking for patterns. They’re trying to decipher Annalise’s cryptic pronouncements. It’s a high-stakes game of "What's the word?" but the penalty for losing is not just a sense of mild frustration, but potentially jail time or, you know, actual murder. No biggie.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m doing the crossword along with them. I’m shouting at the screen, "No, Connor, that's not what she means! Think outside the box! It's clearly a pun!" My cat, usually unimpressed by my television viewing habits, probably thinks I’ve lost my mind. But he doesn't understand the subtle genius of a well-constructed legal thriller crossword.
The flashbacks? Those are just Annalise adding more clues. She’s giving you extra hints, trying to nudge you in the right direction. Or, more often, deliberately misleading you with a red herring disguised as a flashback. It’s a masterful manipulation of the crossword format. She’s playing 4D chess while everyone else is still trying to figure out 3-Across.
And don't even get me started on the cliffhangers. They’re basically the crossword puzzles where you get to the last clue and it’s just a big question mark. You have to come back next week to see if you can solve it. The anticipation is killer, literally.
So, the next time you're watching How to Get Away With Murder, try looking at it through this lens. See the clues, the solvers, and the ultimate puzzle master. It might not change the plot, but it might make you chuckle. And hey, maybe it’ll even help you solve the real crossword puzzles in your life. You never know. Sometimes the most complex problems have the simplest, most infuriatingly obvious answers. Like "GOAT" for "farm animal." Or, you know, "guilt."
This is, of course, a highly sophisticated and completely serious analysis. Anyone who disagrees is clearly not understanding the intricate meta-narrative of legal drama crosswords. And that’s okay. Some people just aren't cut out for solving puzzles of this magnitude. They'd rather just watch the pretty lawyers fight. But I’ll be over here, furiously scribbling potential answers and muttering about anagrams of "dead body."
Seriously though, Annalise Keating is the queen of cryptic clues. And those poor students are just trying to fill in the blanks before the timer runs out. It's a race against time, a race for answers, and a race to avoid being the next answer filled in on a murder puzzle. And I, for one, am here for all of it. It’s a beautiful, twisted, perfectly plotted crossword.
So, next time you’re watching, lean in. Listen to the clues. Try to guess the word. You might just surprise yourself with how good you are at getting away with… figuring things out.