Panhandle, on Spectrum

Pretty soon, we’ll all be living in Florida or Texas, because they are the only states with any jobs. Hopefully, we won’t dilute the local culture. Bell Prescott named his pet alligator Moseley in honor of the state’s first governor, so he is about as Floridian as it gets. He is also an agoraphobic basket-case who took an advanced criminology degree online, in hopes of solving his wife’s murder. Her cold case heats up in Carla Kettner & Nicholas Stoller’s Panhandle, which premieres Monday on Spectrum.

Ever since the murder of his wife Vida, Prescott has been unable to leave his family home outside the dying town of Boggsville. When her body was found in the swamp, the lazy county sheriff just assumed it was methheads. Unfortunately, Sheriff Grant is now supposed to handle all of the town’s real law enforcement. Cammie Lorde is the only police the community has left, but she is only supposed to write speeding tickets to fund the failing town’s municipal government. Nevertheless, she responds to the call from Prescott’s estate, when the recluse finds a suspiciously blue corpse in his shrubbery.

Against protocol, he starts analyzing the body. Initially, his presumptuousness annoys Lorde, but she grudgingly admits he might somewhat know what he is doing. Reasonably, he assumes the new body is related to his wife’s murder, which indeed turns out to be the case. The twitchy Prescott needs Lorde’s help to pursue his investigation, so he offers up his files solving numerous regional cold cases in exchange for her cooperation.

Inevitably, the course of their sleuthing will lead to some uncomfortable revelations for Prescott. He will try to confront the mental projection the grieving Prescott regularly summons of his late wife for company, but he is still (mostly) aware that she is only in his head (like Michel Huisman in The Flight Attendant).

Panhandle is a lot like a Carl Hiaasen adaptation that didn’t have to pay Hiaasen a cent. There are plenty of gators, guns, and distinctly Floridian attitude. It wouldn’t be the same show if it were set anywhere else, which was a good part of its intention. The battery of directors also keep it moving along briskly, while not letting the humor overwhelm the mystery business.

Angela Black, on Spectrum

In movies and TV, conventional legal divorce would often be so much easier, especially if you have as much money as Angela Meyer’s abusive husband Olivier. She will be using her maiden-name soon, for reasons we can certainly understand. He wants to get rid of her and keep custody of their boring children, but she proves to be more resilient than he expects in Harry & Jack Williams’ Angela Black, which premieres tomorrow on Spectrum.

On paper, the Meyers’ marriage looks happy, but he often beats her in private, for the smallest grievances. At least he is frequently away on business. After the latest thrashing, she finds herself alone at a bar on Halloween, where she is approached by a strange man, Ed Harrison, who seems strangely interested in her. At their next not-so-coincidental meeting, he claims to be a fixer, who has done questionable work for her husband. He warns her Olivier has some ominous plans for her, but he is here to help her (you know, just like the government).

The next three episodes are a smorgasbord of violent outbursts, gaslighting, snooping, and protective services acting stupid. There are also some clever thriller elements, but for seventy-five percent of the series, the tone is closer to Sleeping with the Enemy than Hitchcock. However, the concluding sixth episode either redeems the preceding melodrama or elevates it, depending on your tastes and perspective. There is even a bit of a hat-tip to Patricia Highsmith that pays off handsomely.

Joe Pickett, on Spectrum

Wyoming is one of the least populated states, but it probably ranks relatively highly when it comes to authors per capita. Not surprisingly, their crime novelists often incorporate neo-western elements, as in Craig Johnson’s Longmire books. C.J. Box’s novels also follow in that tradition (they have horses and sheriffs). His signature character, game warden Joe Pickett is more comfortable around nature than people, so WY should be the best place for him. Unfortunately, he uncovers a thorny mess of trouble in season one of showrunners John Erick Dowdle & Drew Dowdle’s  Joe Pickett, which premieres Monday on Spectrum.

Pickett is still fresh on the job, but he is already notorious for ticketing the governor for fishing without a license. He believes the rules should be enforced, so he is not inclined to look the other way when he catches low-life Ote Keeley poaching. In the resulting scuffle, he temporarily loses his gun to Keeley, before getting it back. Obviously, there is bad blood between them, so Pickett is duly surprised when Keeley rides his horse all the way to Pickett’s yard, to die from the illegally modified arrow shot through his torso.

Although not considered a suspect, the situation is uncomfortable for Pickett, especially because he worries for the safety of his pregnant wife Marybeth and their two daughters. His slightly sleazy predecessor, Vern Dunnegan cautions him to let everything blow over. However, Pickett is too much of a cowboy to resist following up on his own leads, especially when he suspects the lazy sheriff has arrested the wrong man, Nate Romanowski, a rather intimidating survivalist and falconer.

Immediately starting with Pickett’s standoff with Keeley, the pilot episode (directed by John Erick Dowdle) really grabs viewers. It is a tense action sequence, but it viscerally establishes how high the stakes are for both men. Evidently, the mortality rate for game wardens is shockingly high—and you can see why during this sequence.

It also introduces the lingering trauma of Pickett’s difficult childhood, which often rears up in the present for Pickett. We understand right from the beginning why he is so socially awkward. The truth is the Dowdles maybe overdo his angst a bit. It seems like poor Joe can’t even get a cup of Joe without a flashback. Regardless, the restraint and gritty integrity of Michael Dornan’s lead performance provides an impressive foundation for the series.