The Beast in Me ★★★★½ (Netflix)
For many decades, scientists have tried and failed to generate cold fusion, the hypothetical process of achieving nuclear fusion at or near room temperature. For those seeking assistance, I would suggest watching this gripping limited-series, a psychological thriller about culpability and anger, because the scenes shared by the two leads, Claire Danes and Matthew Rhys, deliver an almighty charge. At every level, from emotional to atomic, the pair forge a phenomenal connection.
Claire Danes and Matthew Rhys in The Beast in Me.
Stars of Homeland and The Americans respectively, Danes and Rhys play Aggie Wiggs, an acclaimed memoirist still furiously grieving the loss of a child, and Nile Jarvis, the scion of a New York property development family who was the prime suspect in the unsolved disappearance of his first wife, Madison. When Nile and his new wife, Nina (Brittany Snow), become Aggie’s neighbours in a tiny Long Island hamlet, the antenna of the writer and the real estate mogul are raised.
Created by author and screenwriter Gabe Rotter (The X-Files), The Beast in Me is deeply satisfying on multiple, complementary, levels. Once Aggie and Nile get acquainted, and he arrogantly dares her to write about him, to which she hungrily agrees, the show intertwines a rich psychological insight, a twisty plot that bears down while opening up supporting players, and uncomfortable realisations.
Claire Danes as Aggie Wiggs and Brittany Snow as Nina in The Beast in Me.
There’s a primal jolt to their conversations, whether on or off the record. “It’s complicated,” Aggie tells Nile, trying to explain how her life has run aground. “Is it?” Nile replies, challenging the life raft narrative Aggie has fashioned for herself. The two see something in each other – it’s not sexual – that they’re drawn to, a truth they want to draw out. If you see me as a monster, Nile subtly suggests, it’s because you’re one, too.
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There’s a bitter melancholy here, about the compromises we make and how they never go away. But the thoughtfulness never negates the muscular storytelling. There’s a juicy take on hardball New York politics, plus near-misses and high tension stemming from suspicion and deception. Niles is, in turn, menacing and seductive, so how do you make his father, Martin, matter? Cast Breaking Bad enforcer Jonathan Banks in the role.
The ending is a touch abrupt, but it stays true to the idea of people admitting who they are. And The Beast in Me never stops showcasing what it has with Danes and Rhys. You could say the two are individually revisiting familiar ground, particularly Danes and her fractured psyche, but putting them together is a master class. What a scary, sublime union.
