Synopsis: Real people. Real cases. And real, legally binding decisions. If you thought Chrissy Teigen couldn’t become an actual courtroom judge, you’ve been overruled.

Cast: Chrissy Teigen, Vilailuck “Pepper Thai” Teigen, Pete Sepenuk

Format: New episodes every weekday. (Review based on the first 8 episodes.)

I enjoy Chrissy Teigen’s antics on Twitter. She’s witty and often hilarious. So a show where Chrissy deals with people’s petty issues in court sounds great. However, a lot holds this show back from being something worth your time.

Chrissy’s Court opens with a very Judge Judy-inspired intro that insists the cases, people, and court are real—no matter how unqualified the judge is. The constant dig at how qualified Chrissy is can be grating, so I’ve started skipping it. It’s like opening Dr. Phil with a disclaimer—he’s about as qualified for his reality shows at this point.

The courtroom is a family affair with Chrissy’s mum, Vilailuck Teigen, as the bailiff and husband John Legend popping in occasionally. John’s first-episode cameo is a bit corny (maybe save him for episode two), but the family dynamic works. Chrissy’s mum is great; her repeated attempts to say “please rise for the honourable judge, Chrissy Teigen” (often tripping over it) have become a funny running gag. You can tell she’s having a lot of fun, too.

Each episode focuses on a single case, usually young people arguing over small amounts of money. Most are very cut-and-dry. A woman seeking repayment from her ex for a co-signed loan while he blows cash on a toy car is an easy call. The episodes shine when the focus is on Chrissy and her mum having fun—banter about squeaky shoes, test-driving the toy car, that sort of thing. When the spotlight is on them, the show clicks.

The show is at its worst when cases skew more serious and the camera stays on the defendant and plaintiff bickering. One episode devolves into a shouting match between a couple—it’s awkward, not funny or entertaining.

Episodes are hit-or-miss, but with an average five-minute runtime they’re over before they become truly awful—or before they lose whatever comedic momentum they’ve picked up.

I’m intrigued by how this show came about. You could do a similar concept with Chrissy giving relationship advice, working a pawn shop counter, or even as a counsellor—so why a courtroom? Because what works in Chrissy’s Court is Chrissy herself; what fails is the courtroom.