Paradise

Paradise is an entertaining thriller whose cast makes its wilder plotting worth tolerating. With Dan Fogelman among its writers, it gives personal pain considerable space beside the business of solving a murder, and that choice pays off more often than the elaborate surprises. There is pleasure in following a mystery that takes such obvious delight in changing direction. We recommend it to thriller regulars, provided a convincing performance can occasionally persuade them to overlook an unconvincing explanation.

Sterling K. Brown does most of that persuading as Xavier Collins. His restraint gives the character a life beyond whatever information the plot needs him to uncover next, and keeps the emotional scenes from becoming requests for sympathy. We were moved by the effort he makes Xavier put into containing his distress. That control gives the programme room to become extravagant elsewhere without making every scene feel as though it is pleading for our attention.

James Marsden, as President Cal Bradford, provides a welcome change of rhythm; he is engaging company even when the surrounding drama grows solemn. Julianne Nicholson’s Samantha ‘Sinatra’ Redmond has the force to hold our attention without competing with Brown for it. The three performances make the larger shifts in the story easier to accept. They give us reasons to care beyond wanting the next answer, which matters when the explanations start to look questionable.

The visual work is less distinctive. Cinematographer Yasu Tanida and production designer Kevin Bird give the drama a polished finish, although the surroundings seldom become as interesting as the people occupying them. A story with this much conceptual ambition would benefit from a more convincing sense of how its setting works. Too often, the performers have to supply the reassurance that the larger premise has not earned.

The editing team, including Howard Leder and Lai-San Ho, helps the first season move briskly through its reversals. Scenes have an immediate pull even when the explanation behind them invites awkward questions, and the urge to continue is fairly reliable. The music is less well judged: alongside Siddhartha Khosla’s score, songs arrive to spell out emotions that the actors have already made clear. Those choices are intrusive precisely because the performances need so little assistance.

The second season makes the weaknesses harder to overlook. Flashbacks interrupt more insistently, and the growing number of subplots makes it difficult for the series to keep its attention on the people who matter most. The writing still finds emotional force, but loose explanations accumulate, and patience becomes a bigger part of the viewing experience. The cast remains a reason to return, though we would rather the plotting gave them less repair work.

The political thriller usually asks us to inspect motives and explanations, which is an awkward invitation here. Paradise gets through on the strength of its people, and the first season gives them a more satisfying mystery to work within. The pleasure lies in watching Brown, Marsden and Nicholson make even a questionable turn feel worth pursuing. Those who need every explanation to add up should choose a stricter sort of thriller.