“We became fast friends, and there was just a trust there. By the time we started shooting, that pushing each other’s buttons and messing with each other and doing whatever we could to screw with the other person’s performance became the key to the whole thing.”
At times while shooting, Adams admits, he has felt an uneasy sense of déjà vu: “We’ve done this before! This can’t possibly work! And we do it, and people go ‘Yes! We love it! That’s Suits!’”
“my favorite shows are shows where when something happens, it has a profound impact, where one thing happens and you can see the ripple effect through seasons, and in my mind, initially, we were doing that.”
Midway through season two, the sudden death of Mike’s grandmother (his only living family, who raised him after the death of his parents) was a lesson in the show’s deliberate limitations. “I was like, ‘Here we go, this is gonna change everything,’ and I came in ready to have it be this eviscerating, painful, emotional, complex thing that we’d play out over the whole season. But of course, they were like: ‘We can’t have that. You can be upset, but you need to kind of process it and move on because we have other things we need to do.’”
The show is not without depths, he continues, but “you touch on the depths and then yank it back. That’s its rhythm. People like to feel that they get near the pain and suffering, and then they like to feel safe that it’s all good, we can joke about it right away.”
That consistency has paid off. The intense Suits fandom shows no signs of fading, and Adams is clearly both grateful and bewildered by the level of devotion. (“Gabriel and I have delved a little bit,” he notes with a smile, in reference to the online reams of homoerotic fan fiction between Mike and Harvey).