A moreishly macabre caper with a dash of Sherlock
Squalor and sleuthing are blended with verve in The Alienist (Netflix), a murder-mystery set in 19th-century New York. Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York cavorted in the same hellscape and many of the clichés established in that film resurfaced here: streets paved with filth, the contrast between the exaggerated gentility with which the denizens addressed one another and the casual savagery of their everyday existence.
The cheapness of life in the boroughs was announced at the outset of this moreish whodunit as the butchered body of a boy prostitute was found suspended from the Williamsburg Bridge. Yet, despite the depravity of the attack, the case was hushed up by local police – even as parallels emerged between this and previous killings of boys of a similar age.
Enter Dr Laszlo Kreizler (Daniel Brühl), a pioneering criminal psychologist, who was assisted by John Moore (Luke Evans), a dashing newspaper illustrator and frequenter of high-class brothels and Sara Howard (Dakota Fanning), the first woman to join the New York Police force.
Together, they formed a sort of supersize Holmes-and-watson on tour. Kreizler was the aloof, eccentric genius, while Moore and Howard chimed in with street-smarts and outrage over the impunity with which the murderer continued to prey on vulnerable young men.
Giving tacit support to the off-thebooks investigation was future President Roosevelt (Brian Geraghty), who, in real life, became New York Police Commissioner in the 1890s. Other real-life figures with walk-on parts included financier J P Morgan.
The original Alienist novel by Caleb Carr was published in 1994, and this take, filmed in Budapest, was faithful to the spirit of the book in that it captured the anarchy of a city literally rising from the dirt and on the way to becoming the New York of looming skyscrapers.
Brühl cut a suitably enigmatic dash as Kreizler, though his wavering delivery made it difficult to ascertain whether the German actor was playing a Mitteleuropa émigré who had started to lose his accent or was merely having difficulties talking like an American. Evans, for his part, mustered a convincingly privileged air as a clubbable Harvard graduate who seemed to have wandered in from an X-rated Edith Wharton novel.
The true revelation, however, was Fanning, who communicated multitudes with her drop-dead glares and clenched jaw. Here was a woman making her way in a world hostile and perhaps actively dangerous to females getting above their perceived station. Her resolve in the face of tooth-andclaw misogyny constituted a rare point of light in a deliciously macabre period caper. Ed Power
Perhaps appropriately for a programme that featured a 7ft figure with the head of a bird, (Channel 4) was a curious beast. The series tells real-life horror stories using a mix of interviews with those involved and dramatic reconstructions, like a kind of historical Crimewatch with more exorcisms.
This episode recounted the tale of Bill and Liz Rich, who moved to Heol Fanog, a cottage in the Brecon Beacons, in 1989. Like so many visits to Wales, it was idyllic in theory. The house was nestled in lush green hills, with plenty of space for their children to play in, and it had a large studio in which Bill could paint. Soon, however, surprising events began to accumulate. Their animals started dying in mysterious circumstances. Members of the family would see ghostly figures in the rooms. After one intense vision, Bill began to paint dark and disturbing scenes. Eventually, a vicar, David Holmwood, was called in.
The programme ought not to have worked at all and it certainly wasn’t perfect. Horror depends on the slow build-up of dread, which is harder to do if you are always cutting to talking heads recounting their experience. Just as jarring was the producers’ trick of putting in a loud shock immediately before each ad break.
Still, the family’s tale was undoubtedly spooky. The dialogue in the re-enactments was a bit dodgy, but when the characters were by themselves they were effective. One scene, where Bill examined a kitchen knife in his studio, was truly horrifying. Even discounting the supernatural, it was clear that in this small group, cut off from the world, fear piled onto fear. You could tell from the faces of the interviewees, especially Liz, that this period had a lasting traumatic effect. “The feeling of being watched, actually, is more frightening than seeing things,” she said, remembering a feeling she had in a kitchen. “If something’s watching you, you assume its next move is to do something.” Ed Cumming
The Alienist ★★★★ True Horror ★★★