The Nowhere Man, on Starz

Lukas Nkosi is a bit like the South African Reacher. He has some serious commando experience, but he has been living a little rough. Unfortunately, Nkosi has not yet achieved the kind of Zen we associate with Reacher, especially when Lee Child’s signature character binges diner food. Ruby, the devout mercy shelter director has put him on a more righteous path, but rather ill-advisedly, bad guys keep forcing Nkosi to revert to his old ways in showrunner-writer-director Gareth Crocker’s six-part The Nowhere Man, which premieres today on Starz (only in the app, not linear).

It is hard to keep up a shelter, so Nkosi often helps by scrounging second-hand goods to fix, sell, or incorporate into his industrial sculpture. Being compassionate, Dr. Neo volunteers to rummage around her tony airbnb for stuff to donate (surely the owners won’t mind), but as Nkosi waits unobtrusively, a gang of ruffians force their way in. We soon learn they work for convicted drug kingpin Phumza Sithole, Neo’s ex-husband. When she discovered the truth about Sithole, she testified against him—and has been running ever since.

Initially, Nkosi is reluctant to get further involved, but Ruby encourages him to use his skills for those in trouble—like the Equalizer. Sithole offers further motivation through his reckless violence. Of course, other criminals will also need Nkosi’s attention, including the proprietors of an underground fight club preying on the shelter’s clients, in the third somewhat standalone-ish episode. Yet, probably the worst villains turn out to be Nkosi’s former associates from his merc days.

Awkwardly, judging whether his old comrade Jonah is also a threat will be tricky. For years, Nkosi tormented himself over his friend’s presumed death. Given his harrowing experiences, Jonah understandably remains deeply traumatized, but he often lashes out in erratic and illogical ways.

Although never ground-breaking, Nowhere Man is a consistently entertaining testosterone-driven action series. Honestly, Nkosi definitely has his Reacher-worthy moments, in nifty combat sequences deftly devised by fight choreographer Lubabalo Nontwana. Frankly, the series does not inspire much confidence in South African law enforcement, since there is hardly ever a cop in sight. Indeed, some of the best stunt work comes during Sithole’s prison break, which is largely facilitated by prison guards.

Death and Nightingales, on Starz

In 1885, Northern Ireland was a land divided by religion. So is Beth Winters’ house. Her stepfather Billy Winters is a wealthy English Protestant landlord, whereas she is not. Nor was her late mother Catherine, who secretly knew she was already pregnant with Beth when she married the hard-drinking Englishman. The Winters family dynamics have only gotten worse since her death and finally come to a head in creator-director Allan Cubitt’s 3-part Death and Nightingales, which premieres Sunday on Starz.

As a young girl, Winters heard her stepfather angrily disavow her and it hurt—even after he disavowed his disavowal in a more sober moment. Regardless, since her mother died, he treated Beth more like a servant than a daughter, especially when he inappropriately visited her bedroom late at night. She has always deeply resented him, yet their awkward shared history created a sort of dysfunctional bond between them. However, she finally resolves to make a break when she meets the dashing Liam Ward, Winters’ new IRA-supporting tenant.

Despite some mixed emotions, the smitten Winters agrees to slip Old Billy a bromide mickey and empty his safe, so she and Ward may elope and start a new life together. Fatefully, it will all go down on the day of her 23^rd birthday. Of course, this kind of business never goes according to plan.

Evidently, Cubitt rather faithfully adapted Eugene McCabe’s similar-titled novel, but a bit pruning and narrative concentration would not have been amiss. Frankly, the entire first episode is ponderously slow and not especially eventful. The middle hour picks up the pace a bit, while the conclusion delivers some pretty intense, slap-in-the-face drama.

Ann Skelly really delivers down the stretch as the surprisingly resourceful Beth Winters. She has moments that largely redeem the series. Unfortunately, viewers have to slog through a lot of aimless angst and melodrama to get to them. Ordinarily, it would be quite entertaining to watch Matthew Rhys rage and roar as Billy Winters, during the episode one and two, but Cubitt makes him such an unsavory, predatory figure, it is impossible to embrace him as a love-to-hate character.

Dancing on the Edge: Paying Dues in 1930’s London

Louis Lester’s band swings so hard, many of their fans assume he is an American, but he is really a born and bred British subject.  Several high society types will take an interest in them, but that will not always be a good thing during the course of Stephen Poliakoff’s Dancing on the Edge (trailer here), a six night mini-series beginning this Saturday on Starz.

Stanley Mitchell is a progressive jazz fan, but he is also a bit of an operator.  He sings the praises of the Lester band, hoping his magazine Music Express will rise with their tide.  While not to the manor born himself, Mitchell knows many of the right people, like Arthur Donaldson, a man of leisure who happens to appreciate real deal jazz.  Through Donaldson’s connections and Mitchell’s glad-handing, the Lester band books some high profile gigs, eventually becoming the house band at the formerly staid Imperial Hotel.

For a while, it seems like everyone will enjoy the good life together, especially when the mysterious American tycoon, Walter Masterson, starts inviting the band to his lavish parties, along with the wealthy but somewhat emotionally codependent Luscombe siblings.  The interracial romance brewing between Lester and Sarah, a photographer close to the Luscombes, obviously portends future trouble, but the erratic Julian Luscombe’s reckless pursuit of the band’s lead singer will lead to more immediate problems.

Chiwetel Ejiofor is about to become an Oprah superstar through 12 Years a Slave, but his turn as Lester is arguably his best work since Dirty Pretty Things.  In many ways, it is a treatise on “cool” as a defense strategy and a personal aesthetic.  Rigidly controlled, Ejiofor still shows us all the gears turning in his head.  Arguably, the major historical influences on his Lester are the suave sophistication of Ellington (whose 1930’s small big band could be a model for the Lester outfit) and the not-so-passive aggressive aloofness of Miles Davis to come in later years.

In contrast, Matthew Goode gives Mitchell a slightly manic edge, nicely playing off the tightly wound Ejiofor in their smartly written scenes together.  (If you’re asking whether he rings to someone who has written about and championed jazz, the answer is yes.)  Probably nobody is more over-exposed for Anglophiles than Tom Hughes right now, but while he was conspicuously miscast in About Time, The Hollow Crown, and The Lady Vanishes, he is sort of perfect for the boyishly creepy Julian Luscombe.  Like Hughes, John Goodman brings out the messy human dimensions of grandly indulgent Masterson, a role that could have easily descended into gross caricature.

In fact, one of writer-director Poliakoff’s great strengths is the manner in which he preserves some degree of audience sympathy for all his characters despite their often horrid actions.  Shrewdly, he also maintains considerable ambiguity regarding certain relationships, instead of beating viewers about the head, as a less artful production might.  Dancing does right by the music as well, featuring a soundtrack of original era appropriate swingers and ballads, recorded by real life working jazz and studio musicians, who also appear in character as the Lester band.  If jazz advocates will have any gripe with Dancing it will be the lack of development for the musicians, besides Lester and his two vocalists.

Like the best of television, Dancing quickly hooks in viewers and keeps them emotionally invested throughout.  Poliakoff captures the exhilaration of the after-hours jam, but also incorporates pointed references to the ominous rise of National Socialism, Britain’s lack of military preparedness, and the rather dubious character of the future temporary Edward VIII.

Nicely crafted in all respects, Dancing on the Edge is recommended for fans of swing music and British television when it premieres this Saturday (10/19) on Starz.  As a note, the fifth installment is technically the finale, but an epilogue follows the next week (11/23), which purports to collect Mitchell’s aborted interviews with Lester. Initially, it seems to be a DVD-extra kind of thing, but it might conceivably set up a sequel series in its final moments.

Da Vinci’s Demons: Leonardo Decodes an Ancient Mystery

Could Leonardo Da Vinci have been a member of a Persian mystery cult?  The Sons of Mithras certainly seem to know him, even if he does not recognize them.  The Vatican is also keenly aware of the Maestro, but he wants no part of the Church.  However, it is not Da Vinci’s artistry that interests the Pope’s men.  They believe he will lead them to the Book of Leaves, a mysterious volume of Faustian knowledge that serves as the MacGuffin of Da Vinci’s Demons (promo here), a new speculative historical series debuting this Friday on Starz.

Created and co-written by executive producer David S. Goyer (co-writer of the Dark Knight trilogy), Da Vinci’s Demons could be called a Da Vinci Code for Da Vinci.  Throughout the series, he will be solving puzzles that are part of a larger ancient mystery.  He must also navigate contemporary intrigues (circa 1476).  Although hardly obsequious to the Medici family, Da Vinci is a proud Florentine, because the Republic is such an exemplar of Renaissance ideals.  Of course, the Pope hates the city-state for exactly the same reason. 

Seeing opportunity in crisis, Da Vinci offers his services to the Magnifico as a war engineer.  Naturally, he makes all sorts of enemies in the process. He also accepts a commission to paint the portrait of Lorenzo’s mistress, Lucrezia Donati.  She was already cheating on her husband with de Medici, whom she also starts to cheat on with Da Vinci.  Indeed, there will be a fair amount of sneaking in and out of bedchambers and outright scandal in Demons.

There are light fantastical elements in Demons, but it is closer in tone to shows like Rome and Spartacus, with a protagonist who could be the spiritual cousin of Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock Holmes.  We even see the world from a similar stop-time perspective through his eyes.  Tom Riley takes a bit of getting used to as Da Vinci, but he grows on viewers (at least over the course of the first four episodes).  He nicely captures that Sherlockian charismatic arrogance, which is quite entertaining when done right.

Demons also benefits from two attractive yet steely women characters to counterbalance its murderous cardinals and randy artists.  Laura Haddock’s Donati brings a sultry noir vibe to the series, while Lara Pulver (Irene Adler in BBC’s Sherlock) is an intriguing master of realpolitik as Clarice Orsini, Mrs. de Medici. Despite his resemblance to Adrien Brody, Blake Ritson also makes a first class heavy as the Pope’s enforcer, Count Girolamo Riario.

Frankly, Da Vinci’s Demons seems to have about as low an opinion of the Church as Reelz’s World Without End, but at least the nefarious clerics enjoy their villainy.  In contrast, the Ken Follett’s evil Brother Godwyn always looks slightly nauseous.  Indeed, a little moustache-twisting and teeth-gnashing is always enjoyable.  Combined with a Dan Brown-esque mystical backstory and some almost steampunky set pieces, Da Vinci’s Demons brings a lot to the table.  It is an entertaining series that picks up steam, becoming more addictive as it progresses.  Recommended for fans of Rome and The Da Vinci Code, Da Vinci’s Demons premieres this Friday (4/12) on Starz.