There's a funny moment here in which Zoe rhetorically asks, "How shit is this?" And everybody at home is like, collectively, "yeah, we feel you, girl." Hunted's problem was probably its self-administered buzz. Melissa George had been Tweeting all year about the show, how Sam Hunter was the most dynamic female character she'd ever read, how she'd be flying all over the world shooting her prestige BBC/Cinemax cable drama and that it'd blow your mind once you actually settle down and tune in. And there were definitely moments that sparkled, rough edges where you could almost see what the show could be, or what it was trying to do, and it was hard to not be a little taken by it. Despite the prolonged gloominess of the color palette and the flat, dour characters, there was an unusual charm to it at the best of times. Around episode three and four, you really got the sense that this was all headed somewhere, even if it was still hard to actively 'like' as a show.
Hunted isn't a television show. I mean, yeah, it is, but not in the same way that any other TV show is a TV show. It mostly resembles a spit-balling session, whole streams of stuff happening all at once, Frank Spotnitz covering all bases but forgetting to make any of it at all interesting. It's just a bizarre experience, a show so dedicated to telling a story that doesn't make a ton of sense on its own, and certainly hasn't given us enough reason to care all that much. There were so many moments in Khyber involving people just saying stuff, fulfilling a thin purpose and helping somebody else move from one point in the story to another. And that's what Hunted is. Nobody has an actual role to play, instead they're just mechanically maneuvered from set to set, and the whole thing is a wreck.
Great serialized dramas frequently strike a balance between the overarching story that the writers want to tell, and smaller, more character-driven concepts that help smooth out the show's edges and create a strong ensemble dynamic. Hunted is weighing heavily on the former and has been ever since it first premiered, at the expense of any real strength of character. The only arc this season to be driven by actual people instead of elaborate conspiracy hooey has been the relationship between Sam and Aiden and their angst over the baby they lost. As an idea it's undoubtedly strong -- the death of an unborn child is horrible, and the emotional fallout can easily provoke sympathetic drama. But Polyhedrus strands both characters in a pissing contest, Aiden whining over Sam sleeping with another character involved in the Turner scheme and yelling at her in public like somebody in ninth grade.
It's a strange complaint to suggest that there's almost too much story here, particularly when new series usually take a while to figure out the right ways to pace an arc. But Hunted is the kind of show desperately crying out for a moment of peace. Granted, you can understand why Frank Spotnitz would feel the need to burn through so much of his plot considering the season only consists of eight episodes, but there comes a point where things really ought to slow down a little. If we've learned anything from the past four episodes, it's that this show is at its best when things are a little quieter -- like the silent moments of relentless training in Mort, or that scene in Hourglass with Sam resting her head against the wall that I (appropriately?) went gaga over. While Hunted has slipped into a direction that is never exactly dull, it's so locked on full-speed drama right now that it's easy to get lost in the wilderness.
You know what Hunted has suddenly reminded me of? The short-lived AMC thriller Rubicon, another sleepy serialized drama full of shady operatives, muted color palettes and slow plotting. Hunted resembles it enough already on a superficial level, in particular the vagueness of the private intelligence firm at the center of things and the so-subtle-it's-nearly-unbearable pacing. But the introduction of economic terrorism to the Turner saga, in which the family earn millions in stock market shares on the immediate heels of some kind of explosive disaster, brought to mind that this is operating like a kind of low-budget remake, only with wonky acting and ridiculous goofery instead of smart, sophisticated writing.
There's a moment during Hourglass in which Sam returns to her apartment and rests her head against her big Carrie Mathison board of suspects, just standing for a while, leaned in to it. It's a shot that goes on for around five seconds or so, something so slow and jarring that it actually made me think my feed had been briefly corrupted. After I realized that it was just an incredibly still moment, it suddenly became clear that it represents exactly what this show is trying to do. At the center of all this brutal criminality, here's a woman who just needs a minute to rest, having carried what feels like the weight of the world on her shoulders for the last year, having lost a baby and a lover and currently unable to trust anybody around her. It's a really affecting scene, something that makes Hunted as a series just that little bit better.
Cable television is a wonderful medium. Greater importance is placed on artistic vision, numbers aren't so important, series orders are shorter, production is less of a marathon. And the rules and regulations of network TV don't usually interfere with a writer's perspective. But cable television is sometimes a negative platform for writers who have only been previously involved with network TV. Frank Spotnitz is such a man, somebody who worked on shows which pushed as far as they could with the boundaries of horror violence in the 1990's on FOX, and who is presumably relishing less mandates and network notes. Cinemax allows Spotnitz to go all-out, bringing the ugly realities of criminality and spy work to the forefront, never stopping to sanitize any of it. But the problem, at least for me, is that I sometimes prefer the sanitized version.
Hunted is an unusual new series, its pilot seeming to veer swiftly in one direction, before pulling back and becoming something a little less intriguing and a lot more conventional. As part of Cinemax's late-night action strand, it naturally carries a trashy allure, presumably more in keeping with the explosions 'n' boobs 'n' yelling hour that is Strike Back. But Hunted itself is actually a little less typical in its identity, a spy drama that is played mostly straight, with surreal visual cues and an emphasis on an espionage existence that is presumably a little more authentic than, say, 24. It's not a great show, by any means, but it sure is sort of interesting.
