Fool Me Once
While no one was really paying too much attention Harlan Coben has made himself a little dynasty over at Netflix. While everyone was obsessing over Bridgerton or pouring over the details of Ryan Murphy's deal with Netflix for the last six years Coben has delivered eight shows that are solid and addictive mysteries. The recipe was simple; take one of his books, change the setting to England, add Richard Armitage, and voila, hit show. But a hit show without too much coverage. It's like how Suits emerged out of the mists of time to become popular again. Harlan Coben's adaptations succeed whether they're talked about or not. And Fool Me Once is the only one I've really seen talked about. Which is a shame. This adaptation just didn't work. Could it be too little Richard Armitage? Perhaps. Could it be that despite being the darling of British television I found Michelle Keegan flat and incapable of shouldering the duties of leading lady? Oh, most definitely. Joanna Lumley should have killed Michelle in the first episode and made it her own. The problem with this adaptation is at its heart it's about a British drug dynasty like the Sacklers, but told in the stupidest way possible. This is buried so deeply in the narrative it only becomes clear in the final episode when Michelle Keegan's Maya confronts her husband's family. I would have far rather watched eight episodes of Maya living this half life between the world she was born to and the world she was thrust into because of her marriage than her wandering about being wooden looking into the deaths of her husband and her sister, one of which really makes no sense when you learn the truth. Which just lends itself to the convoluted nature of the entire show. So much is not explained and left unresolved. If you like your mysteries with a big helping of vague, well then, this one's for you. The lead cop, played wonderfully by Adeel Akhtar, is taking drugs produced by the "Sacklers" and is having severe health issues. Are we ever told why he's on medicine that he pops like candy? No! And then when he's at the doctors trying to figure out why he's blacking out, when the doctor is talking the sound fades away. So... No idea what's going on there. So much is not knowing what's going on or just assuming the audience doesn't care about a single detail. Like Maya's sister gave up a baby for adoption. Why did she give the baby up? Did her husband know? Or did Maya's friend actually have kids? I never saw these kids or even pictures of said kids. These little things keep building over time until I was just so frustrated that I'm glad Maya died. This show explained nothing, underused great actors, and overused incompetent ones. I kept thinking that this could have been something but in the end I just no longer care. Yes, it was slightly redeemed by vigilantism with dire consequences, but it was too little too late.
Who would have thought when Harlan Coben signed his five year multi-million dollar Netflix deal in 2018 it would bring about this interesting subgenre of transplanting his American stories onto British soil with beautiful house and cars you doubt any of the characters can actually afford and Richard Armitage always on hand. I for one am glad this came about. They are immanently bingeable and tie everything up so nice and neat at the end with a large helping of loss that they are perfectly suited to the times we find ourselves in. Not to mention the casting, oh dear lord, it's like someone stole a peak at my list of favorite actors and brought them all together for one project. Or that Richard Armitage is actually getting to show what a great actor he is. I feel so bad for some of the productions he's ended up in, yes, I'm looking at you Hobbit franchise! The miniseries follows Cassie, a stripper, who left that life behind seventeen years previously and is now about to get married to the father of her three children when she makes one little mistake and her past life bleeds into the present with a trail of bodies, often at the hands of a young couple who are musical theater buffs and whose "thing" is choreographed killing. It's riveting and absurd all at the same time. And while I was able to guess the real serial killer due to that old system of means, motive, opportunity, and casting, leaning heavily on the casting, the reveal is so magnificently acted that figuring out who the killer is in advance doesn't diminish the reveal. But what made me really love this production was Eddie Izzard. I have been a fan of Eddie since I first saw Dressed to Kill when it aired on HBO in the summer 1999, right after the David Bowie VH1 Legends episode aired that Eddie just happened to narrate. The following year was the first time I saw her on stage. I have seen Eddie on stage almost more times than I can count, and the most recent time in 2017 I actually got to meet her. Eddie as the drug addict lawyer Harry Sutton who helps anyone down on their luck was the linchpin of this series. Troubled yet wanting to do better, wanting to help. The dinner Harry has at Cassie's house with her family, for a moment it shows what Cassie's life could be with the past and the present as one. But more than that, I am very glad that someone on the production is obviously an Eddie Izzard fan and added a little something special to the set design. I mean, they HAD to name that pet shop Harry runs his law practice out of Hannibal's Animals after Eddie's bit about strapping two elephants to your feet and skying down the alps right? I mean, there's the other possibility that it's named after the TV series she and Richard Armitage both played killers on... But I like to think it's about the elephants.
