“Safe” is an eight-part British mystery now streaming on Netflix. Its pedigree couldn’t be better: American mystery writer Harlan Coben created it, gifted American actor Michael C. Hall stars and the British have a true gift for producing great TV detective shows. However, the melding of the three elements here is uneasy, making for an only partially successful story arc. Hall’s British accent is not great, but that could be ignored if only he were not so quintessentially American; in other words, his acting style, rather than being subtle and underplayed in the best British tradition, is a little too emotional and easily read. As for Coben’s contribution, his best-selling books are filled with so many dizzying twists and left turns the reader is thoroughly confused by the time the answer to the puzzle is revealed. In “Safe,” the twists and sub-plots are indeed fascinating but they go on too long; it would have worked better in six episodes rather than eight. I will say that the final revelation took me by surprise, and made me a little sad too. Still, this is a British mystery made for TV, and the form is a winner, despite some overwrought music that supplies more tension than the script calls for. Acting is top-notch, especially Amanda Abbington, whom I remember fondly as Watson’s wife on “Sherlock,” as the police inspector on the case.
On May 27, season one of “Barry” will no longer be available on HBO because season two will be starting. If you haven’t seen it, that means you have only a few days to catch up on this bizarre, howlingly funny and often violent show created by and starring Bill Hader about a professional hit man who decides to try his hand at being an actor instead. I have no idea how Hader and co-creator Alec Berg came up with the concept or how the hell they managed to make it work, but boy, did they! I also have no idea how they will top the final two episodes of season one—which are overpowering in their mixture of quirkiness and grief—but I’ll be tuned in because these people are crazy and gifted and definitely march to their own drummers, long may they go on drumming. Scripts and direction are top-notch and as for the cast, Hader nails it as the mostly poker-faced Barry, melancholy and probably clinically depressed until he lets go with huge emotions that the TV screen can barely contain. The supporting cast of Stephen Root as Barry’s murder booker, Henry Winkler as a narcissistic acting coach, Sarah Goldberg as an actress with multiple enthusiasms and others too numerous to mention (playing Chechnyan gangsters, Bolivian drug smugglers, etc.)—all of them are highly gifted comic actors. A special shout-out to Paula Newsome, always excellent in whatever she does, who shines as an aggressive and sexy police detective.
Lastly, a note about my Marvel Studios fandom: I walked out of “Avengers: Infinity War” after an hour because the idea of getting all the Marvel superheroes together sounded like fun, but the violence and scenes of torture in the film were simply too much to bear. I rarely mind the violence in these movies because it is comic-violence and, for me, not taken seriously. And I also enjoy so many of them—”Black Panther,” the “Iron Man” saga with Robert Downey Jr., “Dr. Strange” from last year, the other “Avengers” movies—because of the humor in the scripts, the kind of self-mocking tone that lets us in on the joke. None of this is real, folks, we are simply bringing to life those comic books you loved as kids.
There are no jokes to be let in on in “Avengers: Infinity War,” at least not those aimed at the tender sensibilities of yours truly. When they cross the line into noncomic violence and torture with me, I’m done being amused.
