If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. This could be the motto that filmmaker David Fincher first applied to his Netflix series, “Mindhunter,” employing similar dank aesthetics, obsessions with serial killers and analogous procedural-like inquiries, the series was almost a second take on the approach of 2007’s “Zodiac.” While that drama was criminally overlooked at the time, “Mindhunter,” a similarly fixated look at serial killers from a new FBI and psychological evaluation perspective, has been a great success so far. And apply two of Fincher’s greatest maxims—1) “People say, ‘There are a million ways to shoot a scene,’ but I don’t think so. I think there’re two, maybe. And the other one is wrong” and 2) “People are perverts…that’s pretty much been the basis of my career anyway”— and you possibly get a perfect encapsulation of the series that is impeccably staged and shot and always centering on the aberrations and abnormalities of the human mind.
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Craft is never forgotten in “Mindhunter.” Television might be traditionally a writer’s medium, but Fincher is a compulsively concentrated, cinema stylist, and “Mindhunter” is a masterclass case study in how information is presented visually and a nod to the classicist greats like Sidney Lumet and Alan J. Pakula.
“Mindhunter” went out with a head-scratching whimper rather than the explosive bang in its Season 1 finale. The new season is a kind of take on “Chinatown,” a deliberate exercise in the madness of fighting futility, a depressing look at how bureaucracy can kill justice.
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Characters interpersonal demons are pushed to the forefront of the conflict and administrative government slams the brakes on minute psychological profiling. Implementing the same fragmented, Kansas City killer, cold opening device, the second season makes one question whether certain aspects of the plot are even meant to pay off. Frustration is the intent, and the entire idea is to illustrate how often these terrible things simply happen in plain sight and how little there is that anyone can do to stop it.
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Things almost appear too good to be true for our Behavioral Science investigators as the premiere episode sets in. With an eager new supervisor arriving in Quantico to head the department (Michael Cerveris) the BSU finally receives some affirmation and can, at last, move their file cabinets out of the basement. The ambitious and keen new Assistant Director asks both Agent Bill Tench (Holt McCallany) and Dr. Wendy Carr (Anna Torv) to a keep close watch on the unpredictable, hot-headed profile specialist Holden Ford (Jonathan Groff), now suffering from panic attacks following his all-too-intimate encounter with Ed Kemper (Cameron Britton) at the end of last season. At the outset, it feels like more of the same old “Mindhunter”—an investigation into the mind of what makes killers ticks and all their twisted and sick motives— but the show soon shies away from its original interest of interviewing serial killers and gleaning new insights, shifting itself into more socially conscious territory with varying degrees of success, much like the latest volume of HBO’s “True Detective.”
When a series of missing children are found dead in Atlanta, Holden catches early wind of a major case that’s about to blow wide open, the Atlanta Child Murders. As all the kids that have been killed are Black, the town meeting erupts with Ku Klux Klan conspiracies. Holden attempts to dissuade the theory, maintaining that multiple murderer profiles point to racial lines rarely being crossed, in his experience; in other words, the eccentric FBI agent insists that the killer must be Black. This, however, is not a narrative that anyone wants to hear, politically.
Meanwhile, Tench gets wrapped up a child murder case of a more personal nature when a toddler is found dead in a neighboring basement, shaking up his wife Nancy (Stacey Roca). Things turn even more tragic (and a little far-fetched to be honest) as the investigation unveils that Nancy and Bill’s son, Brian (Nathan Scott Ross) was not only present at the murder of the boy, but he also placed his body on a cross; believing that the deceased child would come back resurrected. Their child is not charged with homicide, but social services begin monitoring the Tench family closely and this puts a huge emotional strain on everyone. Brian begins emotionally receding— he rarely speaks, starts wetting the bed and sucking his thumb— and an exhausted Bill has to fly back and forth from Atlanta to attend therapy sessions with Nancy every Friday.
When “Mindhunter” forcibly attempts to parallel its coded storylines the series does get a little hokey at times, and it’s hard to grasp in what sense the show values its own subplots sometimes. The Brian thread seems to be growing in importance but is incrementally returned to less and less as the Atlanta murders grow in prominence. The same is true of a romantic side thread the season sets up for Wendy, who believes her workplace status forces her to remain closeted; when her new girlfriend expresses disapproval of this attitude, it makes Wendy feel like more of a monster. When this subplot is eventually abandoned entirely in the last few episodes, it feels like the showrunners didn’t know what to do with her, perhaps giving her a love interest with self-damaging components so they might overlap thematically. You can practically see the whiteboard outline, colored sharpies overlapping and linking ideas and story threads, but it doesn’t always work.
If that sounds harsh, it’s only because the talent involved makes it look as if the production team could shoot this series in their sleep. Fincher shoots the first three episodes, and Aussie auteur, Andrew Dominik (“The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford”) helms the next two. Dominick and Fincher do terrific work, but perhaps the smartest decision was hiring veteran filmmaker Carl Franklin (director of the underrated ‘90s noir gem, “Devil in a Blue Dress” and now an old TV pro) to direct the whole second half of the series. Fincher’s unwavering color palette and tight aesthetic are adhered to but Franklin throws out his style playbook at a few key moments, using handheld movement and cracking the frame with period film textures, injecting a raw sense of civil rights upheaval to a tense political rally sequence involving a cross being carried. The writing of the show may be a little unfocused this season, but formal prowess just about makes up for all the clunky plotting (Ford’s panic attacks magically vanish too which is odd given how much attention it’s given at the outset).
Nothing is on the level of some of the sound mixing experimentation utilized in the first season, but Fincher does try out an eye-catching new camera technique, sticking the lens to a car window and cutting as the car banks in an almost surreal fashion (it evokes the feeling some of his visual enhancement tricks in “Zodiac” did). Dominick later repeats this motif in the Charles Manson sequence by mounting the camera to a prison bar door. Speaking of, Damon Herriman is bloody excellent as his second turn as Charles Manson, and Dominick directs the hell out of the one scene he’s in, but it has little bearing on narrative; serving more of a character boiling point for Tench. On that note, what truly shoulders the season is Holt McCallany’s incredible performance.
Season 2 is McCallany’s season, who has long been one of the industry’s most reliable character actors (he was tremendous in a short-lived, boxing series on FX called “Lights Out”) and his hulking pathos in “Mindhunter” is a performance for the TV history books. There is something about his towering presence paired with such calm, weighted wisdom. He’s nailed the character, inside and out. If someone at Marvel hasn’t already suggested they lock him down to play Ben Grimm, a.k.a. The Thing (if, and when, they ever get around to making that “Fantastic Four” movie) we suggest you check out this series, fair Disney casting directors.
Make no mistake, “Mindhunter” is very, very good television, but considering the plethora of experienced talent involved, Fincher’s established body of work, and the near two-years of wait in-between seasons, the new string of episodes is somewhat unsatisfying, unfocused as a narrative whole despite being so formally concentrated and enriching. And all that said? As flawed as it can be, the show is still deeply captivating and that’s a testament to the filmmakers, craft, and actors.
Frustration is very much a part of the thematic quota, however, and systemic disappointment is an inherent part of the narrative. Generations of racially motivated violence still lay dormant, as the sexual desires of serial murderers do. A maniac kills precisely because he can’t catch his fantasy and hate can’t be corrected simply by solving a series of criminal cases. The second season of “Mindhunter” purposefully falls into a hellish routine of case fatigue, and all that entails on the investigative process, emotionally and spiritually too. It’s an excellent idea that’s a little exhaustive in practice at times. Though the story direction and strength of the social commentary can’t quite match the series’ sharp formal discipline, it’s an indication of the talent involved that “Mindhunter” still remains deeply engrossing regardless and perhaps one of the most cinematic shows on TV. Not bad for a bunch of people in suits, mostly it poorly lit offices, simply breaking it down, and talking. Fincher may be known as a stylish director, but in truth, he might’ve quietly become the best director at shooting the hell out of conversations. [B]