“Black Bird,” a new miniseries of Apple TV + (premiered on Friday) that dramatizes the eerie Midwestern crime story from the 1990s, has several important names. It was developed for television by leading criminal author Dennis Lehane (“The Wire”, “Mr. Mercedes”). Its nominal star, Taron Egerton (“Rocket Man”), is Marvel’s next Wolverine candidate. And in a smaller role, it features one of the last performances by Ray Liotta, who died in May.
But from the moment Paul Walter Hauser appears on the screen as Larry Hall, a kidnapper convicted of a suspected serial killer, everything else about “Black Bird” disappears into the background. .. In “Richard Jewel,” Hauser riveted as a strange ball whose eccentricity obscured his intellect and hero. Here he reverses the equation and, using his extraordinary empathy and distinctive rhythms and shadows, forcees us into the orbit of a seemingly calm character whose violent psychopathic bubbling just below the surface. ..
Lehane, who wrote or co-authored five of the six episodes, worked from the 2010 memoir “In With the Devil” by James Keane and Hillel Levin. Egerton plays Keane, a former high school football star, who was offered an out when he was imprisoned for dealing with drugs: he became friends with Hall in a federal prison and was convicted of Hall. His ruling commute to work if he extracts information that will help defeat the complaint, kidnapping a teenage girl and the complaint that he is likely to win.
Focusing on Keen (Egerton is listed first among the show’s 11 executive producers) divides the story in a way that doesn’t benefit the show in any way. On the one hand, you can imagine that this is what attracted Lehane to the material, but there is a somewhat unusual prison drama. In this drama, Keene needs to arrive in the hall before she discovers her status as a masked whistleblower and kills her. In this scenario, Keane played a joust with a curious guard (Joe Williamson), carefully made friends with gangster Vincent Gigante (Tony Amendola), and his desperate former policeman’s father ( Riotta) tries to reassure him.
Meanwhile, the body was found as to why his career as a tomb digger’s son and janitor was not convicted of any of the many suspected murders. (He confessed to multiple murders over time, but he always resigned.)
Hall’s story is embodied in a flashback to his horrifying childhood and in a frustrating investigation conducted by a relentless local police officer (Greg Kinnear) and an FBI agent (Sepide Moafi). increase. But it’s mainly conveyed in the prison encounter between Hall and Keane, and Hauser is very good in those scenes — very creepy and strangely funny, so believed and completely present — of the show. Everything else turns pale in comparison and begins to be undertaken. When Hauser isn’t visible on the screen, you’re more likely to notice how tight and polite Egerton’s performance is, and how little he and Liotta can do with a shallowly drawn character.
The less prominent idea embedded in the story is that the smooth, good-looking high school jock Keane fascinates Hall because it’s always what Hall wants, learns about Hall’s life, and his heart. Is to be drawn into-force Keane to reconsider his own attitude and privileges. However, performance disparities obscure all emotional lines. When prison therapists say Keane is “very charismatic,” you tend to think that it’s Hall that is charismatic (and wonders why Hall doesn’t see Keane right away). .. It’s certainly intentional that Hauser’s Hall is a fascinating character, but Rehane probably didn’t intend to lean completely in his direction, perhaps even our interests, and even our sympathy. ..
Despite the dramatic weight imbalance, “Blackbirds” are primarily attractive. Hauser is a tranquil piece with an occasional expressionist touch that appears on many screens and is reminiscent of David Fincher’s criminal story. Best in episode 4 directed by Jim McKay (“Our Song”): Egerton is more relaxed, Hauser is sharper than usual, and their scene is almost sexually responsible together. increase. And McKay’s portrayal of the prison riots and subsequent cleanups is meticulously supervised by Hall and is one of the best moments of the show.
The “Blackbird” closes with a view outside the plane window of an irregular grid of Midwestern farmland. Below that is the undiscovered body of a woman who may have been the victim of the hall. We know that Hall reconsidered his childhood there as a national pastoral — “What kind of world it was, James lived in a graveyard.” — And Hauser was confused and magical. A delusion that makes us feel both that horror and wonder.