The simplicity extends to the quaint almost toy-like quality of the town on which the darkness has descended
The image of Sony Liv represents a broadcast tile embedded in our TV only recently. It’s a little sluggish in swimming into focus and, therefore, a trifle annoying to access. But that’s our experience. Dear reader, if your experience with the broadcast is satisfactory, then I would recommend three seasons of a murder mystery startling in its simple rendition.
Brendan Gleeson, template Irishman bearing the inevitable burden of the Gaelic sixth sense and the collective sorrow of a nation plagued by magic, plays the also-inevitably tortured retired detective Bill Hodges, barely managing to survive the self-imposed guilt of an unsolved case involving brutal murder and mayhem. For both his nemesis and resurrector is Brady Hartsfield, whiz-kid employee at an IT store, fatherless and permanently scarred by a mother wasted by nicotine addiction and trapped in a sexuality directed at her sole surviving child.
Also read: Series review: Mare of Easttown
Brady horrifies us at the outset of the story by mowing down dozens of desperate employment seekers at a job fair in the fictitious town of Bridgetown, Ohio. His choice of weapon is a top-of-line Mercedes and, hence, the sinister nickname. We are from that moment riveted to the pure evil played out, frame after dismaying frame, on our screens. How does this monster incarnate, comatose and near death, manipulate poor little Sadie MacDonald from his hospital bed? How does he become the cause celebre of a town intent on vengeance, pitted against a judge compelled to walk the narrow path between judicial process and political and social expediency, while determining the fate of Lou Linklater, gay and gifted ex-colleague of Brady and the last survivor of his attacks? The characters are solid, complete, and as mentioned earlier, simple. The simplicity extends to the quaint almost toy-like quality of the town on which the darkness has descended.
My favourite season is the third. And, guess what, it’s got absolutely nothing to do with the character of Brady Hartsfield and his anger with the world.
Sony Liv. Mr Mercedes. I will request you to indulge.