Farrell oozes cool in a homage to Golden Age Hollywood
You can imagine how the pitch for Sugar (Apple TV+) went. “Colin Farrell,” say the show’s creators, “as a cool LA private eye in a homage to Golden Age film noir. He drives a vintage Corvette, he drinks lots of whisky, he…” Greenlit! The producers shake hands and head for the pastries. Colin Farrell as a modern-day Philip Marlowe? Yes please. “But wait!” plead the creators. “There’s a twist.” The producers aren’t listening – they’re imagining Farrell cruising down Hollywood Boulevard, soft-jazz soundtrack thrumming, the lugubrious narration purring over the top…
Those producers have got what they wanted in spades. Sugar’s Los Angeles is a gorgeous paean to the Hollywood of Fritz Lang and Howard Hawks, of John Alton and Cecil B Demille. The setting is modern day, but Sugar, created by Mark Protosevich, is a beautifully curated museum to mid 20th-century movies, with John Sugar its most handsome of matinee idols.
John Sugar is a gumshoe, sure, but he’s also a film buff – “Film buff?” he says to a revered film producer, “It’s more like an addiction” – and we see LA through his silver-screen-tinted spectacles. Sugar wears its influences as a badge of honour: John Sugar carries the exact gun Glenn Ford used in The Big Heat; just when your mind wanders to LA Confidential, John
Sugar namechecks
The action – directed with verve by Fernando Meirelles (City of God) – is spliced with shots from classic movies.
In traditional private-dick style, John Sugar picks up a job he should put down but can’t. The film producer, Jonathan Siegel (James Cromwell – another nod to LA Confidential), has a missing granddaughter, Olivia, and understands that John Sugar offers “discretion”. John Sugar, who’s seen all Siegel’s movies, can’t say no – he had a sister who also went missing.
And so John Sugar is plunged into a familiar world of hoodlums, movie backlots, crumbling dynasties and femme fatales – the most dangerous of which is Amy Ryan’s ageing rock star, Olivia’s stepmother. The beats are familiar – deliberately so – but the performances are strong, particularly Nate Corddry as Olivia’s stepbrother.
No one outdoes Farrell, however. His sleuth is a masterclass in cool. Like all the best PIS, John Sugar has his demons and, of course, he has a secret. But you don’t want to hear about that – you’ve greenlit this project, you’ve got your pastry, you’re daydreaming of Farrell punching a lowlife under the shadow of Warner Bros’ water tower.
When the eight-part series shows its hand, late on, you’ll either buy it or you won’t. If you don’t: The Big Sleep is on Youtube. Chris Bennion
Politics boot camp is different for girls, it turns out, in Girls State (Apple TV+) – a companion piece to 2020’s Boys State. The first film plucked individuals from a 1,000strong junior government exercise in Texas, using their candidacies to show us what the US’S future might look like.
This time, the experiment is in Missouri, running with concurrent boys’ and girls’ sessions. We follow the latter – a smaller gathering of 500 hopefuls, who must step into the fray for one of the top jobs and submit to an election or an interview process.
We watch friendships form, regardless of ideological difference. Abortion, while the most divisive issue on the table, doesn’t necessarily foster enmity: even a devout pro-lifer such as Emily Worthmore says she wouldn’t want to dictate other women’s views. She cheerily succeeds in making herself as well-known to everyone as Tracy Flick, Reese Witherspoon’s go-getting character in Election.
The film-makers, Jesse Moss and Amanda Mcbaine, were canny enough to get their material here mere days before the decision to overturn Roe vs Wade, which had stood fast for 49 years. The pro-choice teenagers dread the vote; many are bewildered that men get a say in it at all. When they see what the boys are doing – a rough-andtumble of daily debate – there are rumbles of discontent about why their own activities feel so lightweight.
The one exception, a deep dive into nitty-gritty, is the film’s strongest set piece: a ruling is demanded on whether compulsory counselling before abortions ought to constitute a breach of privacy under state law. Both positions are advocated with nuance; the sense of intellectual probing, rather than clinging to automatic dogma, is rather inspiring.
It’s not the point of the film to find the next Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Emily worries that her lack of experience at public speaking will count against her; there are others more polished, or come off as charismatic feminists. Figuring out your place doesn’t have to mean winning a popularity contest – and it’s just as illuminating to watch failure shape these lives. Tim Robey
Sugar ★★★★
Girls State ★★★★