Presumed Innocent (Apple) - Review

Rating: 2.5 out of 5

APPLE TV may have invested heavily on its prestige legal series Presumed Innocent but the verdict is that the show is guilty of squandering a lot of its potential.

Based on Scott Turow’s bestselling legal whodunnit, which previously got turned into a film 34 years ago starring Harrison Ford and Greta Scacchi, the remake now functions as an 8-part series, written by David E Kelly (of Big Little Lies and The Undoing fame) and starring a cast headed by Jake Gyllenhaal (making his TV debut).

The case for viewing already feels compelling. Yet the supporting cast also offers more to bait the viewer: from Ruth Negga, on blistering form as Gyllenhaal’s wronged, long-suffering wife, to Peter Sarsgaard, as a legal rival chomping at the bit to get one over Gyllenhaal’s egotistical central character.

There’s also Bill Camp, a character actor I have long admired (following roles in The Night Of, The Queen’s Gambit and The Looming Tower), as well as eye-catching support turns from Elizabeth Marvel, O-T Fagbenie and Chase Infiniti.

The story itself offers plenty to intrigue, focusing on the murder of hotshot Boston prosecutor Carolyn Polhemus (Renate Reinsve) in what looks like a copycat crime of a now imprisoned killer (she was bludgeoned to death with a poker and tied up, semi-clad in the same pose as the previous victim).

Leading the case initially is fellow prosecutor, husband and father Rusty Sabich (Gyllenhaal), until it is revealed that he was having an affair with Polhemus and was at her home on the night of her death.

Sabich quickly becomes the primary suspect and is brought to trial by former colleague and workplace rival Tommy Molto (Sarsgaard) and his boss Nico Della Guardia (Fagbenie), relying on his own former boss Raymond Horgan (Camp) to defend him.

The ensuing trial places considerable strain on Sabich and his family, with his wife, Bárbara (Negga), increasingly forced to contemplate some difficult revelations and make some hard choices about her family’s future.

Indeed, it’s arguably Negga’s Bárbara who is the most empathetic character in the series… her nuanced performance rich in hurt, confusion, loyalty and indecision. A sub-plot involving a potential affair of her own with a sympathetic bartender affords Negga the chance to really test the boundaries of her own wants and desires - something that Negga navigates with both repressed anger and palpable hurt, as well as trepidatious delight.

Yet she’s equally adept at playing the game according to how the people around her need it played: her public support for Rusty unwavering for most of the time; which beautifully contrasts with some of the more intense and angry moments between the two of them behind closed doors and out of the hearing of their two children.

Also on the plus side, the aforementioned Camp, a character actor incapable of giving a bad performance, whose decision to step up on behalf of former employee and lifelong friend Rusty has serious implications for his own reputation and health.

Sarsgaard and Fagbenie are also good as the prosecutors on Rusty’s case; the latter suitably enigmatic as someone playing the odds with a firm eye on his own political profile, and Sarsgaard a seething, resentful loner who arguably gets the speech of the series: not a courtroom one, but an address to the media in which he takes down modern America’s ‘get away with it’ culture, indicting (without naming) everyone from Hollywood’s elite (in the wake of #MeToo) to corrupt politicians (are you listening Mr Trump?).

But here’s where the case for Presumed Innocent rests. And the case against begins…

If Negga’s performance is one of the highlights and a really strong female role, then the remainder of Kelly’s screenplay largely lets its female contingent down: none more so than Reinsve’s Polhemus, whose brutal demise is too often revisited and lingered upon.

Here, the series conforms to age-old thriller stereotypes and conventions. If Kelly’s aim is to show the full horror of toxic masculinity, narcissism and powerful men’s ability to do what they want without accountability, then he misses his mark.

The portrayal of Polhemus is almost exclusively sexualised, offering very little for Reinsve to do beyond cuddling up to Gyllenhaal. There’s no chance to build a character you might actually feel the loss of; let alone a flesh and blood character worthy of the reputation everyone speaks of.

Given the show runs to almost eight hours, there was time to have done more.

Instead, we’re offered too many repeat shots of a deceased Polhemus bound and gagged, bloodied and in her underwear. It feels exploitative and more in keeping with age-old depictions of violence against women in movies and TV. It's a backwards step.

Another flaw is the show’s inability to deliver central characters that are actually likeable. Gyllenhaal, in particular, is too egotistical and assertive to be too sympathetic (which admittedly heightens the ambiguity surrounding his guilt), while the likes of Sarsgaard and Fagbenie just aren’t very nice (especially given they’re meant to be representing the victim).

Kelly’s screenplay also fails to stick the crucial landing, delivering a climax that deviates from the film [slightly] but which - in my opinion - doesn’t hold up to close scrutiny. And while it may embolden Sarsgaard’s aforementioned speech, it ends things on an underwhelming note, which also leaves it open to being picked apart.

Hence, while Presumed Innocent entertains in some regards (not least because of the quality of its cast), it is equally guilty of some outdated and unnecessary depictions of violence (especially towards women), some sloppy writing and a less than satisfying conclusion.