If you’re looking for a mystery series where you can watch one episode nightly, then discuss theories with friends via a chat thread, then revel in either your own or the show’s intelligence, Apple TV Plus has a great new one in the eight-episode “Presumed Innocent.”
From book to film to TV
And also an old one, in a way, as it comes from Scott Turow’s 1987 novel that became a 1990 Harrison Ford movie, one of the many stylishly gritty works of director Alan J. Pakula. This version comes from producer/writer David E. Kelley, so it’s more about courtroom melodrama and big personalities. But that’s OK because Kelley brings the prestige game he also brought to “Big Little Lies” and “The Undoing,” the premise remains juicy, and the cast sells the heck out of these personalities.
Jake Gyllenhaal ably steps into the Ford role as Rusty Sabich, a superstar state prosecutor accused of murdering his mistress, Carolyn (Renate Reinsve, plastered throughout sexual and violent flashbacks). Kelley and his writing team thread the needle wherein Rusty could’ve done it … but also other people could’ve done it … but the circumstantial evidence points only to Rusty … but there’s only circumstantial evidence.
“Presumed Innocent” Season 1 (2024)
8 episodes, Apple TV Plus
Showrunner: David E. Kelley, based on Scott Turow’s novel
Stars: Jake Gyllenhaal, Ruth Negga, Bill Camp
The mystery is the No. 1 draw with this slick TV version, but the cast runs a close second. The standout is Bill Camp as Rusty’s defense lawyer, Ray, who despite appearing to be 70, has no problem lustrously cursing at everyone who looks at him sideways. He follows up, “Ray, take it easy” with “F*** you, too!”
The prosecution team is worthy of being cursed out, led by vindictive (but he lives alone with a cat, so he’s kind of sympathetic) Tommy (Peter Sarsgaard) and the newly elected Chicago DA, Nico (O-T Fagbenle), who has one of the most punchable vocal tones in recent TV history.
“Presumed Innocent” is also a family drama; classy Ruth Negga leads the way as Barbara, Rusty’s wife who wants to keep the family together for the sake of their teens. Negga and Gyllenhaal are believable as spouses who are on the same legal side, so they must compartmentalize their lost trust and shaky commitment. Kingston Rumi Southwick and Chase Infiniti are spot on as Kyle and Jaye, who reluctantly have front-row seats to their parents’ splintering marriage.
We mull legal machinations along with the mystery
Like he used to do on “The Practice,” Kelley portrays courtroom cases as emotional plays more so than factual hearings, so much so that Rusty is in danger of losing his freedom even though there’s no solid evidence. Kelley makes one of his pet themes feel fresh again, due to the narrative’s details and stakes: Are juries are smart enough to look past the emotions and grasp the concept of reasonable doubt?
(MILD SPOILERS FOLLOW.) As often happens in series like this – even good ones – the writers play fast and loose with some element. Here it is forensic evidence. Is it really likely that someone could violently murder Carolyn and then leave no evidence behind? And regardless of that answer, shouldn’t that aspect be addressed more thoroughly? (END OF SPOILERS.)
Another quibble: How likely is it that Rusty’s colleagues would be allowed to prosecute him? Shouldn’t they recuse themselves due to possible conflict of interest? Shouldn’t the judge stop this case from going forward on the heated home turf, and move it to another county? (The practical answer: “Yes, but then there wouldn’t be a story.” Fair enough, especially since there is some legitimate drama, as Kelley-via-Turow has a defendant advocate for himself, rather than letting his lawyers do all the talking.)
On the other hand, the format is absolute catnip to viewers. The short-form miniseries is the best innovation of TV in the 21st century, but many misuse their freedom to go beyond 44 minutes (the length of an hourlong network TV show). Streaming episodes almost always feel long; I often acknowledge that the quality makes up for it, but reluctantly.
That’s not the case with “Presumed Innocent,” in which each episode is a little more than 40 minutes. Maybe because of what we grew up with, this feels like the right amount of story. Each cliffhanging bit of information makes me want to watch the next one (although there’s something to be said about taking a break to theorize with friends). Luckily, Apple TV Plus knows we want more: A Season 2 is planned — obviously a new story since this one is complete. I’ll happily serve as a witness.