It’s hard to believe that Search Party premiered in November 2016, when one political era was ending and another, more terrifying one was just beginning. It feels so quaint, rewatching seasons one and two that were coming into their own right as the Trump administration was coming into power. And while the show’s focus has always been on the ennui and confusion experienced by millennials who find themselves struggling to find meaning in a world that they weren’t prepared for, it also has a very specific viewpoint: white, privileged hipsters. All of this is coated in crime genre trappings, particularly a millennial and modern bent on neo-noir. But what I’ve found fascinating going through each season was how the genre trappings would change.

Season one found Dory (Alia Shawkat) listlessly trying to find some purpose and, by obsessing over the disappearance of someone who was barely an acquaintance, finally discovering meaning in being an amateur sleuth. Here the show played on themes of the noir gumshoe, pulling at threads while thinking that the conspiracy goes right to the top, but with a subversive, Senfieldian twist that proved that...nothing happened. It’s a pitch perfect season that led directly towards Season Two’s focus on Dory as the noir tradition of the femme fatale. The season sat in its uncomfortable paranoia, sending fractures through the core friendships as Dory embraced her fatale persona.

So now we have yet another twist on the crime thriller that presents an uniquely modern take on the justice system and our culture’s fascination with true crime and deciding guilt in the public domain. And for a show that was filmed in 2018, it feels oddly prescient to 2020’s obsession with Tiger Kings and the destruction of fact in favor of personal opinions.

Season 3 begins with Dory, dressed in her best femme fatale red, in the backseat of a police car, her mind whirling while the arresting officers discuss the “shoe” size of one of their coworkers. This juxtaposition of the frankly absurd conversation with the real life consequences perfectly encapsulates the humor of Search Party. We’re quickly brought up to speed with the rest of our murderous crew as Drew (John Reynolds) still contemplates fleeing to China, Elliott (John Early) pretends the criminal charges are merely background noise and a nuisance as he plans his wedding and Portia (Meredith Hagner) struggles with her decision to tell her director-cum-lover about the murder.

The first half of the season deals with the lead-up to the inevitable courtroom drama, all centered around the public’s opinion of Dory and Drew. When Dory’s mugshot is taken, she finds herself scoffing as the photo snaps and she quickly becomes a national sensation as everyone from the public to late night shows to political pundits decide her worth, her guilt and her innocence. Everything from her clothes (“shameless homage to the 70s!”) to her boo Drew (“he’s a cutie, though!”) is critiqued as the court of public opinion opines whether she is “Gory Dory,” the Butcher of Brooklyn or an innocent Brooklynite.

As a political pundit tells his audience, “you be the judge!”

Of course the show’s audience knows they’re guilty, even if Dory doesn’t want to admit it. In another prescient plot point, Dory tries to change the narrative of her arrest by maintaining the entire time that nothing happened, even when pleading self-defense is probably the safer option. When she shouts to the press that she had absolutely nothing to do with Keith (Ron Livingston)’s death, she later self-deludes by saying, “it’s like nothing happened...you know what I mean?”

Except it did happen, no matter how much Dory wants the public to think it didn’t. This gives season three an uncomfortable edge as find ourselves we’re rooting for our white, rich and privileged heroes to get away with murder(s) at a time when the country is erupting over how fucked the justice system is. Drew’s rich parents, for instance, hire a formerly high-powered lawyer named Bob (Louie Anderson) to protect their son while offering up their entitled perspectives: “America has the best justice system in the world. They don’t put innocent people in jail.”

This entitled and clueless perspective becomes cringey as we realize no matter how the season ends, their perspective is upheld. If our group does go to jail, well...they are guilty. And if they manage to avoid prison time, well they join a litany of rich, white and entitled kids who avoid the consequences of their actions.

In this way, Search Party feels like a relic of 2018, when it was filmed. It’s weird to think two years would be a big difference in terms of cultural perspective but here we are.

The new characters this season are a welcome gift, though. In particular, Dory’s amateur lawyer Cassidy (Shalita Grant) is stunning and a perfect addition to the cast. She’s introduced with horn-rimmed glasses, opulent style, dangly earrings, a gloved hand she offers enchanté-style and the most ruthless vocal fry I’ve ever heard.

Shalita is hilarious and she owns every scene she’s in, overshadowing the rest of the cast with her combination of wit and comedic timing. The way Cassidy is immediately discounted because of the way she talks, dresses, and acts feels very authentic to the point that when she turns it up in the courtroom, I was reduced to finger-snapping.

I desperately want a spin-off show of her navigating her way through the justice system.

Other areas don’t work so well, such as Portia’s brief foray into religion and Elliott’s family/wedding drama. For a show that’s been so meticulously plotted over the last two seasons, the middle portion of season three feels a bit aimless. As Portia and Elliott become a bit extraneous to the drama unfolding, their stories feel under-baked and listless. The worst offender is Chantal (Clare McNulty) who still pops up to remind us she’s part of the show while she tries to establish a new organization to help sad rich people. She’s become a one-note character beat whose role is already filled by Portia.

That said, Search Party is still wickedly funny and had me laughing out loud. It’s a dip from the perfect first two seasons but it’s the same witty and slyly dark comedy we’ve fallen in love with. In a way, it feels like an inverse of the Dory we were introduced to in season one, who would cry, “Everybody can tell me what I can’t do, but nobody can tell me what I can do.” That Dory is dead. This new Dory makes her own rules, everyone else be damned. And heaven help you if you get in her way.