Travis Leamons // Film Critic
Rating: TV-MA (8 Episodes)
Creator: Elizabeth Meriwether (inspired by the 1987 feature film ‘Black Widow’ written by Ron Bass)
Cast: Emmy Rossum, Lola Petticrew, Quincy Tyler Bernstine, Scoot McNairy, Jake Lacy, Rob Yang, Steve Way, Danny McCarthy
Rarely do I take the time to watch television. My love of movies takes greater interest, leaving me little room to dedicate myself to new shows on networks or streaming platforms. Some exceptions do exist, but they are usually reserved for characters familiar to me from literary crime thrillers.
After hearing friends talk about the Hulu series Furious, an opportunity presented itself to finally watch the program. Deciding to give it a go, I was unencumbered by the building buzz that occurred after its debut in late July. An eight-episode series that spooled over the course of two months – instead of the Netflix model of dropping all episodes on a single day – I was instantly intrigued by the opening murder to put the thriller in motion.
I should point out that between the time I finished the series to writing this piece some newsworthy revelations came out about an alleged gang rape inside a fraternity at Cornell University back in 2024. Best practices would dictate a review about a television program stick foremost to the story and production, but in a post #MeToo, Epstein Island world it would be wrong to not at least make mention. Because even a few weeks after the first season’s final episode, Furious should continue the discussion about the lack of accountability of men sexually abusing women.
Black Widow, a 1987 neo-noir starring Debra Winger as an investigator pursuing a serial killer, played by Theresa Russell, serves as the story’s template. Creator and showrunner Elizabeth Meriwether (New Girl) ups the original’s simple concept – about a woman marrying wealthy men only to murder them – in allowing the villain a grander purpose in wanting to kill the men she ensnares, like flies caught in a spider’s web.
Meriwether, who previously created the miniseries The Dropout about failed Theranos creator Elizabeth Holmes (herself the subject of the Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim documentary You Can See Everything), has an excellent grasp in shifting perspectives of her three central female characters. Emmy Rossum stars as FBI agent Alice Black, a low-level desk jockey that becomes involved in a serial murder investigation. Previously a homicide detective with the NYPD, Black is reunited with her old friend and partner, Danny Kelly (Scoot McNairy), at a murder scene that mirrors the death of sex trafficker. The similarity in the murders has her enlist the help of Nora Washington (Quincy Tyler Berstine), head of the FBI’s sex crimes unit. Nora is a tough cookie; a longtime agent with the bureau who doesn’t play favorites.
Lola Petticrew completes the female triumvirate as the serial murderer Charlotte Grace. What a presence she is. From the outset, Charlotte is cool, expressionless; she administers a lethal dose of Fentanyl and lolls next to a victim starring him in the face as he dies. Although, her composure intensifies the closer she gets to the predator that started it all.
But Furious is not really about the pursuit to catch a killer. It is about the failures of jurisprudence, and how three women of different backgrounds have been shaped to one extent or another by detestable men. Both Alice and Charlotte have suffered sexual abuse and carry the weight in different ways. Abuse is a coping mechanism for Alice. For Charlotte, it is a reckoning. And in Nora’s case, it is gallows humor of her own offering. “You think I’ve never let someone take a few cracks at this piñata?”
When it comes to law enforcement working an investigation this quote has stayed with me: “Everybody counts, or nobody counts.” Brass and bureaucrats stalling or interfering with a case as a matter to protect those in ivory towers or whose careers benefit by looking the other way is a dance I won’t partake.
You cannot paint Charlotte with broad strokes and label her purely evil. She is cunning and manipulative, yes. But she also believes she has just cause in doing harm to those who harmed her and her best friend. They were trafficked and abused by a powerful family whose pockets run deep. The cat-and-mouse game Alice and Charlotte play develops into a bond over similar trauma. A shared understanding of the end justifying the means. Sounds cliché until this thriller reminds us of the Epstein nature of it all with the suppliers and enablers and the participants who get away with it.
The unshakeable current of female rage through each episode of Furious offers thoughtful conversation about the rationalization of sadistic actions. This ideal, and telling the procedural with female-led perspective, makes it all the more emotional and provocative. If you don’t get the least bit furious while watching, then you’re not paying attention.
Grade: A
