In the wicked city
The Alienist gets down and dirty in old-time New York, writes Lorraine Ali.
PART Gangs of New York, part The Knick and part Mindhunter, The Alienist pairs gruesome, serial killer carnage with horse and carriage charm for this psychological thriller set in 19thcentury Manhattan.
The 10episode series is as much about a murder investigation as it is about the roots of our presentday ideas on gender, mental illness and socioeconomics.
Adapted from Caleb Carr’s bestselling 1994 novel, The Alienist takes viewers through the filthy tenements and opulent parlours of 1896 New York, exploring the baby stages of forensic science, modern psychology and feminism along the way.
Fans of the book who’ve waited decades for this story to come to life on screen — big or small — will no doubt find this skilfully produced rendition full of promise: What did they get right or wrong or take liberties with? With Cary Fukunaga, Jakob Verbruggen and Hossein Amini among the top credits, the production arrives with builtin credibility.
Those not familiar with the book, however, may have a harder time sinking into a story where the character development and acting (at least in early episodes) is upstaged by the phenomenal depiction of a city on the brink of modernisation. In short, The Alienist is good versus stunning.
In the first two episodes available for review, we meet ‘‘alienist’’ Dr Laszlo Kreizler (Daniel Bruhl), who studies atypical human behaviour and the mind. He’s referred to as an ‘‘alienist’’, because, as it’s explained in the show: ‘‘In the 19th century, persons suffering from mental illness were thought to be alienated from their own true natures. Experts who studied them were therefore known as alienists.’’
Kreizler is methodical, detached and full of himself. He’s shown as striking fear and respect in those around him as he defies conventional wisdom about what constitutes ‘‘normal’’ behaviour, and looks beyond the status quo for answers. But despite all the intense closeups and heavy music accompanying his character, he’s not a strong or particularly believable presence right out of the gate.
His acquaintance, the sensitive illustrator and journalist John Moore (Luke Evans), is meant to be everything Kreizler is not: impulsive,
driven by emotion and easy to read.
Their relationship proves useful when the doctor wants to study the motives behind the murder of a child prostitute yet lacks the access that Moore has as a journalist.
There is some chemistry between the two, but again, it’s the beauty and grime around them that proves the more interesting juxtaposition.
Moore recruits Sara Howard (Dakota Fanning), an old family friend with whom he appears to be in love. But the pragmatic and driven Howard could not give a fig about courting, making her an anomaly in a society where marriage is the only prospect for uppercrust women such as herself.
She’s determined to be taken seriously at the allmale precinct, which, in the patriarchal 19th century, is no easy task. She’s a curiosity and/or prey among the all male staff, some of whom treat her like glass, others who debase her hourly.
Think of it as a Harvey Weinstein work environs, sans electricity and a century’s worth of progressive window dressing.
Howard’s narrative and the stories of poor immigrants, ostracised gay men and others in The Alienist underpin issues we grapple with today, including the direct relationship between class and the quality of healthcare one receives.
It’s an inequity that plays out in squalid downtown taverns and the private dining room at Delmonico’s.
The bumpy carriage ride between these locales and social strata is filled with fog, bonfires, whisky flasks and filth. It’s a wonder anyone lived past age 10. And in many cases, they don’t but not because of tuberculosis — which is where the investigation begins.
The hunt to solve and stop the murder of young male prostitutes is suspenseful and filled with burgeoning forensic science, such as studying ‘‘finger marks’’. (No two are alike!)
But the crimesolving here is a gory and graphic affair, where carnage, cruelty and untimely death demand their closeup every few minutes: dismembered children, exhumations, weeping latestage pox, medical procedures done with tools right out of a Marilyn Manson video.
In the queasy male brothel scene, the exploitation of boys is a sordid affair. It’s shown in markedly different light than scenes in another whorehouse, where the transaction between a presumably teenage girl and older man is stylised and sexy.
The Alienist is a gripping production that’s beautiful, disturbing and maybe even promising if its earnest characters can keep up with the wicked city around them. — TCA
The Alienist is available to stream via Netflix.