Things I would rather be doing than reviewing “I Am the Night”: yoga, playing with my dog, my dishes, learning how to make a nice shakshuka, looking at messenger bags I can’t afford on Etsy, swiping mindlessly on Tinder. Yet there my dishes lie, and I’m tasked with trying to explain the exact nuances of mundanity that make this Chris Pine-led miniseries so goddamn boring that even Patty Jenkins’ direction can’t zhuzh it up.
Something of a “L.A. Confidential“/”Chinatown” neo-noir with similar baggage about L.A. cops and transgressive Californian conspiracies, “I Am the Night” has a wet-dream premise for a true crime nerds: The paths of Pat, a white-passing black girl (India Eisley) and Jay Singletary, a failed crime reporter (Chris Pine), intersect as the two are mysteriously connected to George Hodel, the evil doctor (Jefferson Mays) who allegedly killed the Black Dahlia. There are a few intriguing twists to each player’s arcs – Pat’s lineage is not what it seems, Jay’s still chasing a mysterious story – that would make for fascinating fodder for the show’s first two episodes. Unfortunately, the show drags these few kernels of fascination out to five hour-long installments, with the action of its sixth and final episode barely making up for so much sloggy build-up. Imagine you’ve been going up on a roller coaster for half an hour, but when the drop finally comes, it’s five feet high. Since the twists in the show are more like particularly strong basic plot points, you can also see them coming from a mile away (especially if, like me, you Google one of the main character’s names).
“I Am the Night” purports to be based on a true story, but it walks a line between truth and fiction that’s more bizarre than creative. Of the two people whose lives it fictionalizes, the show overwhelmingly condemns one, George Hodel, and lionizes another, leading any slightly critical viewer to wonder how TNT managed to dodge libel charges in its creation. I have not read the autobiography on which “I Am the Night” is based, but the show tells a story so outlandish one can’t help but feel a sense of ickiness when watching, like seeing a dramatic retelling of the JonBenet Ramsey case that firmly decides the Ramseys were responsible. There are shady, even deplorable characters in every cold case, and many believe George Hodel to be, at best, an abusive person, but it’s beyond strange – and certainly disruptive to the viewing experience – to see a mediocre TNT drama act as his posthumous judge and jury.
Maybe these issues of plodding plot and dubious declamation would irk me less in a film adaptation, but “I Am the Night” is a miniseries that’s trying so hard to fit into the already-exhausting landscape of “Peak TV” that it’s ultimately about as interesting as an annual physical. The show tries to toy with surreality and immerse its viewers in the same confusion and mystery as its characters, but the final product reads as if someone tranquilized a particularly boring version of David Lynch.
“I Am the Night” disappoints so soundly because it had so far to fall. A stellar performance by Chris Pine and two Patty Jenkins-directed episodes lead the show, and the bare bones of the plot are beyond interesting. A world-famous cold case and countless family secrets collide with salient issues of gender and race – and then the series refuses to take any of those myriad oddities to a dramatic extreme. Were it not for Chris Pine’s explosive Jay Singleton, “I Am the Night” would have about as much fervor as a Puritan funeral. [D]