Stories of trauma told through any form of medium are difficult to maintain due to the inherent nature of the subject matter. They’re hard to stomach and, if told especially poorly, result in little more than examples of exploitative misery porn. Trauma, and the triumph or tragedy that follows, can be told in manners that are less audacious and more explorative. What’s even harder, however, is to tell a story about being the victim of emotional, psychological, and sexual abuse, and somehow make it entertaining. “Patrick Melrose,” the new series starring Benedict Cumberbatch in what he’s declared a dream role, manages to toe that line of drama, humor, and honesty all within the first hour, titled “Bad News.”
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Following the fever dream that is Patrick’s (Cumberbatch) trip back to the States to retrieve his father’s remains after hearing of his death, the premiere is just one of five episodes of Showtime’s latest miniseries. Our first introduction of Patrick comes as he sluggishly combs the floor for his dropped needle, having shot up preceding a call that his father has passed. As the relative on the other end of the phone offers their platitudes, telling him how good of a man his father was, Patrick smiles gleefully with a look of relief brushing over him. It’s a terrific introduction of a character in a strong premiere episode.
What is the show based off of?
The show traces the five novels in Edward St. Aubyn’s award-winning series. The semi-autobiographical books were met with great acclaim in Britain, with their biting humor and take down of elitism, all the while painting a painfully detailed portrait of the hanging grief over a person’s over the decades following a horrific experience. The show follows Melrose through different periods of his life, from his childhood to the throes of his heroin addiction and other substance abuses, going well into his adulthood.
Just how grim is this show?
Beyond the giddy laughter at his father’s passing, the first sign of trouble is the bright spot of blood that pops through Patrick’s shirt from the fresh puncture of heroin. While the full extent of Patrick’s abuse isn’t laid bare in the premiere, we get just the right amount of hints to inspire a sense of dread. That blood spot is far from the queasiest moment of the episode, especially in the moments where Patrick is increasingly desperate for a fix. This entails a lot of tight and extreme close-ups of track marks and puncture wounds, as well as a horrifying sequence of getting-high-gone-awry with a needle Patrick compares to a bicycle pump.
His spirals of addiction are equally painful to watch, even if Cumberbatch is just able to enliven them with an offbeat and manic charisma. Without the full context yet of the realities of his childhood, Cumberbatch manages to infuse each addictive tailspin with a barely contained sense of overwhelming despair. The magic of the character is that his despair is masked with a magnetic wit.
Is the lead character likable?
Not entirely but it’s not like that’s really the point. He’s crude and pessimistic. Patrick wastes a lot of time being belligerent and unkind to the periphery characters in his orbit. His encounter with an acquaintance (played here by Allison Williams) is upsetting in just how much he lacks in common courtesy or tact. Patrick takes the emotions of others around him for granted with a laser focus on where he can chase his next high.
That being said, if not likable, Patrick Melrose is certainly an easy lead character to empathize with and is one whose less-than-palatable attributes aren’t so bad that we can’t already begin to root for his recovery and, especially, his happiness. Cumberbatch plays him as a livewire, always teetering on the edge of something more — something worse — whose arrogance, intelligence, and addiction make him for an unruly and watchable lead.
Doesn’t that kind of sound like what’s done in ‘Sherlock’ and ‘Imitation Game’ though?
Not entirely. There are similarities and Cumberbatch clearly thrives within a certain model but the difference lies in the intent of the characters. With the prior roles, there was always the sense of self-importance. There’s the idea that even if the characters behaved badly, they’d earned the right to due to their intellect. Patrick, separated from the fact that he doesn’t have the same level of intelligence as the other characters, is also largely held accountable for his actions. He doesn’t get away with anything due to his charm or troubled background. The biggest arguments he has aren’t with others around him but those with himself.
So it’s a good performance?
Oh yeah, even if the show is asking a lot of us to make us believe Cumberbatch as a 20-something in the premiere. Arguably (so far at least and it’s early to tell) a highlight of his career, thus far. Cumberbatch is a consummate performer, who utilizes every inch of his lanky frame to tell a story, and with Patrick, he’s allowed to cut loose in a manner in which he hasn’t often been allowed in the past. It’s wildly nuanced work that builds perfectly on what we’ve become to know of the actor while promising more exciting ventures.
It’s so good, and the rest of the episode is so barebones, that it comes across as being little more than an hour-long acting exercise.
Are there reasons to watch beyond the central performance?
It’s hard to be entirely sure that the show — or premiere at least — would’ve been quite as effective had it not had Cumberbatch, but there’s just enough to at least deem that the show would have been watchable. Hugo Weaving and Jennifer Jason Leigh have just a modicum of material to work with, in the premiere, but still, they promise rich performances. Plus, the episode had a visual flair, as it tried and capture the sedated mayhem that was ripping Patrick’s psyche to bits. From the way in which a bad trip would manifest itself in whatever reflective surfaces surrounded Patrick, to the unease inspired by a taut chord of an unsteady television, to the claustrophobia conveyed as Patrick leans into a public phone booth, openly weeping at weight of his father’s death and inability to stay sober, there’s style that underlays the dialogue-heavy start.
Is it going to be worth the five-episode commitment?
To really double down on this point, it’s too early to tell. However, with a performance as strong as Cumberbatch’s central one, and with a story that’s based on such popular books, it’s hard to see the series derailing to the point of being unwatchable in just the next few episodes. Already conveying a great deal of emotional volatility, “Patrick Melrose” looks to be a devastating experience but a worthwhile one. Suffering from a few moments of pacing issues and the fact that so much of the series relies on a singularly strong lead performance, the show nevertheless leaves a mark upon first viewing, leaving the audience tethered to the outcome of Patrick’s story. [B+]