
A Critical Analysis of How to Get Away with Murder (2014 – 2020)
Context and Key Scenes
This analysis follows the ongoing collision between the public version of Annalise Keating and the private one she never allows to fully surface. The courtroom becomes her stage and her shield, while her home, her office, her therapy sessions, and even the quiet hotel rooms she hides in reveal the quieter collapse happening underneath. The iconic moments the audience remembers most, especially the night she removes her wig and makeup in Season 1 Episode 9 and the heartbreaking scene in front of the mirror in Season 3 Episode 9, turn into visual symbols for the internal war between the person she built for survival and the woman she was born as. It is Anna Mae Harkness versus Annalise Keating, and the show lets both halves fight for air.
Surface Reading
At first glance, she is unstoppable. The kind of lawyer who demolishes witnesses with a single question, bends juries without breaking a sweat, and walks into impossible cases as if they were warm-up exercises. Viewers see the immaculate suits, the steady voice, the sharp mind, and it is easy to assume she thrives because she is simply better than everyone else in the room. That surface reading is comfortable. Clean. Easy to digest.
But Annalise Keating is only simple from a distance.
Deeper Motives: Armor, Not Ego
Her brilliance looks like confidence, but it functions like armor. The polished exterior is not vanity. It is strategy. It is the shield an abused, overlooked, and underestimated Black girl built to survive a world that decided her vulnerability was an open invitation for violence.
Childhood trauma, poverty, colorism, racism, the crushing grief of losing her unborn baby, and a lifetime of navigating people who weaponized her need for love created a woman who learned early that power is safer than softness. The courtroom becomes the only environment where she can impose rules on a life that never allowed her any.
Her makeup, wigs, suits, posture, tone, and deliberate control of her appearances are not cosmetic preferences. They are survival techniques crafted to match the demands of white institutions. The legal world decides what brilliance looks like, and it usually looks white. Straight hair. Neutral-toned suits. Controlled diction. Annalise does not simply dress up for court. She performs an identity that the system is willing to hear.
When she removes her wig on screen for the first time, it is not just a moment of personal vulnerability. It is a refusal to let whiteness decide the shape of her professionalism. It is the woman reclaiming her own face.
At the center of this tension sit two identities that are not truly separate but are treated as separate out of necessity. Anna Mae is the girl shaped by pain and survival instinct. Annalise is the weaponized adult the world cannot easily ignore. Neither exists without the other, and the mask exists because the woman behind it was never allowed to show up unprotected.
Ophelia Harkness: The Original Mask
The story of Annalise’s masks begins long before law school, long before Sam, long before any courtroom victory. It begins with her mother.
Ophelia Harkness fails her daughter and saves her in the same breath. When young Anna Mae is abused by her uncle, Ophelia chooses not to expose him or bring justice through the system. Instead, she burns the house down with him inside. This decision becomes the blueprint of Anna Mae’s worldview, and the lessons she absorbs are devastating.
Love means hiding the truth.
Protection sometimes means violence.
Survival demands performance.
Ophelia’s methods, however misguided and destructive, inform everything Annalise later becomes. The mother who once used fire to protect her child becomes the model Annalise unknowingly imitates. Annalise “saves” her own students through strategies that are just as morally compromised. She pulls them into lies, perjury, cover-ups, and emotional manipulation, often convinced that this is the only way to keep them safe.
The cycle starts with Ophelia, but Annalise carries it forward. In her world, care and destruction grow from the same soil.
Maternal Grief and Toxic Protection
The loss of her unborn child leaves a permanent scar that shapes nearly every relationship she forms afterward. She pours an enormous and conflicted amount of maternal energy into the Keating 5, with Wes Gibbins becoming the centerpiece of this dynamic.
This mentorship is far from pure. It is loaded with grief, projection, and a powerful need to rewrite her own past failures. Wes becomes both a son and a second chance. A child she is determined to save because she could not save her own. A child she feels cosmically tied to because of the violence and secrets that link their histories.
When Wes dies in Season 3, the entire emotional architecture she built around him collapses. She is confronted with the truth she desperately tried to outrun. She could not save him. She could not undo the past. She could not outthink the universe. His death is the moment Annalise’s mask fractures in a way it cannot fully recover from.
After that, her relationship with the remaining students becomes much sharper, much more chaotic, and often painful. They are her found family but also her accomplices. Her protectors and her victims. And the important thing is that the show never pretends they are passive participants. They make choices. They contribute to the destruction. The entire dynamic is a messy exchange of loyalty, fear, guilt, and survival instinct.
Addiction: The Collapse of the Mask
Alcohol is not another mask. It is the collapse of all the others.
Addiction appears when Annalise can no longer hold the line between who she must be and who she actually is. The drinking begins as a release valve, then becomes an escape route, then turns into a slow undoing of every boundary she built to stay functional.
The courtroom persona requires control, precision, and constant vigilance. Alcohol allows her to stop performing for a little while. To stop being brilliant. To stop being powerful. To stop being the shield everyone expects her to be.
Her recovery arc becomes one of the most honest parts of the series. Sobriety is not portrayed as a magical cure. It is shown as slow, unsteady integration. It is not about removing masks. It is about learning how to live without needing them to feel safe.
Intersectional Layers: Compounding Trauma
Annalise’s identity is not a simple collection of categories. It is a web of intersecting experiences that intensify one another. Her race, gender, class background, queerness, and trauma history shape both her genius and her dysfunction.
A poor Black girl becomes a legal powerhouse by mastering code-switching and performing elite whiteness with surgical precision.
A woman who has loved both men and women learns to hide parts of herself to maintain respectability and career stability.
A survivor of abuse grows into someone who fears intimacy even when she longs for it.
Each layer reinforces the others. Each creates new barriers she must navigate. Her brilliance emerges from these pressures. It does not exist in spite of them.
Moral Ambiguity and Narrative Function
One of the show’s strongest choices is refusing to fit Annalise into a clean moral category. She is never just the victim of oppressive systems and never just the manipulative mastermind pulling strings. She is both.
Her courtroom victories are often ethically messy. She intimidates witnesses. She coerces confessions. She manipulates her students. She weaponizes guilt. She violates trust. And she does all of this while simultaneously fighting systems that seek to destroy her on sight.
This duality is intentional. The show wants the audience to wrestle with her morality because she herself wrestles with it every day. Annalise carries the marks of the violence done to her and repeats some of that violence onto others. She is shaped by injustice and yet capable of causing profound harm.
The courtroom scenes become a kind of emotional outlet. They reveal the cost of her brilliance. The power is thrilling. The aftermath is suffocating.
The Cage She Built Herself
Annalise’s tragedy sits in a paradox. The thing that protects her is also the thing that isolates her. Her intelligence creates distance. Her armor prevents closeness. Her control keeps her alive and keeps her alone.
The mask becomes both her shield and her prison. She needs it to survive, but it suffocates her all the same.
When she finally says she was always Anna Mae, the point is not that she is abandoning Annalise or returning to some pure, original self. The point is that the split never truly existed. It only felt necessary. She was always both the injured child and the weaponized adult. The wound and the shield. The survivor and the strategist.
Integration does not happen in a dramatic epiphany. It happens in small acts of honesty and stillness, in moments when she stops needing to choose between being human and being powerful.
The Final Trial: When Vulnerability Becomes Strategy
The final season forces Annalise into a legal confrontation unlike anything she has faced before. This time, her survival depends not on domination but on honesty. Her old strategies can no longer save her. She has been outmaneuvered, outnumbered, and outexhausted.
She walks into her testimony without the wig, without the polish, without the safety nets she spent decades building. She speaks openly about her trauma, her complicity, her desires, her failures, and the choices she made to stay alive in a world that punished her for existing.
The brilliance of this moment is that she is still performing a strategy, but she is finally using vulnerability instead of force. It is a gamble. A terrifying one. And it works.
Even more important, she does not win alone. Tegan takes risks for her. Eve returns. Nate decides to stand on her side despite everything they have been through. Bonnie and Frank give everything they have left. For the first time in her life, Annalise trusts others to carry part of the weight. The lonely survival script she inherited from Ophelia begins to crumble.
She does not become perfect. She does not become harmless. She does not transform into a softer, healed version of herself. What she becomes is someone who no longer believes survival requires solitary battle.
That is enough.
Reception and Alternative Readings
Audience reactions to Annalise often divide along lines of lived experience. Many Black women viewers recognize her mask for what it is, because they have worn their own versions of it in rooms that demanded they shrink or vanish to be accepted. Her exhaustion and brilliance feel painfully familiar.
Other viewers, especially those who have never had to navigate racialized or gendered scrutiny, sometimes interpret her as purely manipulative or dangerous, without understanding the forces that shaped her.
Viola Davis’s performance is essential here. Her insistence on showing Annalise without the wig, without the glamor, and without the neatness of traditional television archetypes adds a layer of truth the series would not have had otherwise. She refuses to make Annalise likable in a simplistic way. She makes her real.
Both readings coexist. The text supports both. The show invites disagreement because it never pretends Annalise is easy to categorize.
Final Insight
Annalise Keating is a portrait of survival that refuses to be pretty. Her genius is carved out of trauma, sharpened by systemic violence, and sustained through choices that damage her as much as they protect her. She builds an identity powerful enough to bend institutions, yet fragile enough to crack when she faces the people she loves.
The wig coming off is not a revelation of the real woman underneath. It is a reminder that the mask and the woman were never separate to begin with. Her strength and her fragility belong to the same person.
In the end, she lives long enough to grow old. She teaches. She loves. She outlasts the terrors that shaped her. And when she dies, her former students attend her funeral looking older, wiser, and somehow still tethered to the complicated woman who shaped their lives.
She survived the world and survived herself. That is the truth the show leaves behind.
Key Points
- Annalise Keating is one of those legal minds that makes viewers whisper things like how did she think that fast while they struggle to pick a movie for dinner. She brings intense focus to every case she touches and teaches in a style that feels like a motivational speech mixed with a small thunderstorm.
- She carries a huge internal split between Annalise Keating the unstoppable attorney and Anna Mae Harkness the young girl still trying to heal. Viewers see both sides peeking through at different moments like two radio stations trying to play at the same time.
- Those courtroom victories feel epic but they usually come from her need for control and her survival instincts not from ego trips. If life ever turned into a game she would choose the difficulty level set to maximum just to feel prepared.
- She protects the Keating 5 with the energy of someone guarding the last slice of pizza even though her version of love sometimes bends into chaos and confusion. Her care is powerful but it can be a little intense like a seat belt that hugs too tight.
- She carries layers of trauma that stack on each other like emotional Jenga blocks from childhood wounds to complex relationships to loss and addiction. Viewers see how every piece shapes her decisions and her reactions.
- The iconic wig and makeup removals are her way of telling the world here is the real person behind the armor. It is honest and raw and became one of the most unforgettable moments in modern TV.
- Moving through a white male dominated legal world as a dark skinned Black woman means she faces challenges on multiple fronts and the show reflects that reality while keeping the storytelling grounded and layered.
- Her flaws show up often from distrust to manipulation to intense relationships but they speak to her history rather than labeling her as any one thing. She is complicated like most people only louder.
- Beneath all the sharp edges and stress filled decisions there are soft moments that remind viewers she is human and capable of deep kindness even if she hides it like a secret snack drawer.
- Her character remains one of the most layered and memorable in television filled with resilience heartbreak strategy humor confusion and a very big emotional toolbox that never stops surprising people.
Fun Facts
- Viola Davis became the first Black woman to win an Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series for this role and audiences across the world celebrated like their favorite team won a championship.
- Annalise changed her birth name Anna Mae Harkness to build distance from her past something many viewers connected with on a deeper personal level.
- Viola Davis pulled from real experiences with stress and emotional eating which added even more authenticity to Annalise’s emotional patterns.
- The creators blended traits from Shakespeare characters like Lady Macbeth and King Lear to add dramatic weight which explains why Annalise always feels like she could deliver a monologue that shakes a room.
- Viola Davis insisted on the wig removal scene and it has since become one of the most recognizable character moments in modern television.
- Many courtroom speeches were tightly scripted but Viola delivered them with so much emotion that fans thought she rewrote the entire scene on the spot.
- The deep red lipstick was intentionally chosen to show power and complexity making it the quiet sidekick in her character design.
- Viola Davis encouraged the writers to show addiction and mental health honestly rather than polishing it into something unrealistic.
- The chaotic yet strangely loyal dynamic of the Keating 5 was loosely inspired by real law school clinics where students juggle pressure teamwork and a little bit of panic at all times.
- The fictional class How to Get Away with Murder mirrors real criminal defense seminars that focus on the emotional and ethical challenges of the work.
- The famous Season 1 wig removal scene went viral and inspired viewers to open up about their own layered identities and the masks they wear in everyday life.
- Viola Davis became the first Black woman to reach the Triple Crown of Acting while still portraying Annalise which made TV history and inspired a generation of actors.
- The split between Anna Mae and Annalise mirrors real psychological responses to early trauma giving the character emotional depth that resonates widely.
- Her courtroom experiences reflect challenges many Black women attorneys have described in real life which brought strong authenticity to the show.
- The flash forward structure shows how trauma can echo across time and critics praised the show for handling it thoughtfully.
- ABC used Viola Davis’s famous Emmy speech in promotions because it carried the same emotional punch as the character herself.
- The loyalty seen in Annalise’s professional circle mirrors stories from real high stakes law teams who form bonds through pressure and survival.
- Many law students openly credit the show and Annalise as motivation to pursue criminal defense and courtroom work.
- The Season 1 wig removal scene was filmed in a single take which added even more intensity and honesty to the moment.
- Costume choices shifted between perfect power suits and more vulnerable looks to show how Annalise’s emotional state changed throughout the seasons.
Comedy Corner
- Trying to act composed like Annalise but accidentally spilling water on yourself right before a serious conversation.
- Telling yourself you will be calm today, then remembering the group chat drama and instantly turning into a full courtroom argument in your head.
- Practicing your speech in the mirror, thinking you look powerful, then blinking too hard and losing the moment.
- Saying you are done helping people, then immediately helping someone because you cannot mind your business after all.
- Walking around the house imagining dramatic entrances like you are about to defend a client on national television.
- Talking tough on the phone but pacing around the room like you are preparing to deliver closing arguments.
- Whispering to yourself that you are in control while your friends cause chaos in the background and you pretend you are above it all.

