Long Bright River Review: Amanda Seyfried Shines in Compassionate but Heavy-Handed Crime Drama

Hey, television fans, are you looking for something new and exciting to watch? Something different that sets itself apart in this crowded TV landscape? How about a crime drama miniseries about a cop who is solving a murder case while also dealing with interpersonal drama? You know, something that's never been done before. Is the sarcasm here clear? 

Let me be upfront: I'm not knocking crime dramas, nor did I go into Peacock's latest foray into that genre, Long Bright River, with anything but the best intentions. As a fan of Liz Moore's bestselling novel of the same name and as a person from the Greater Philadelphia area, I was looking forward to this screen adaptation, and to seeing Philly's Kensington neighborhood get a much more nuanced time in the sun than is typical. (Although it seems Long Bright River didn't do much filming in Philadelphia, which is a choice.) And as much as this preamble might have you believe otherwise, Long Bright River isn't a bad show. In fact, it's a very, very solid show with some excellent performances. The eight-episode series follows Officer Mickey Fitzpatrick (Amanda Seyfried, a shoo-in for an Emmy nomination here), a patrol cop in Kensington who gets personally involved in a case when a serial killer begins using insulin to murder sex workers in the area, and her missing younger sister, Kacey (Ashleigh Cummings), could potentially be a victim. Intriguing, right? It's just that as soon as the show ended, I was left not thinking much about what it was trying to do and instead thinking about how in a few weeks time, it will undoubtedly get lumped in and mixed up with the whole heap of crime dramas being pumped out these days. Long Bright River is a good watch, but it is also perhaps the worst thing a television show can be at the moment: mostly forgettable.

Perhaps I'm being cynical. In fact, there are two elements of the series (which premieres all eight episodes on Peacock on March 13) that make an impression — two elements that certainly deserve to be talked about for longer than it takes to binge the full season. The first, which was also very present in the novel from which it is adapted, is the clear and sincere empathy and compassion this show has for its subject matter. The story is bleak, but while some series might present us with stereotypical portrayals of the unhoused women who become murder victims in Long Bright River, women who turned to sex work to help feed their drug addictions, women and their friends in the same boat, who are written off by so many — including most of the other characters on this show — that doesn't happen here. Here, those women are not only given a more nuanced story but also given an advocate in Mickey. As the daughter of two addicts who grew up in Kensington, Mickey reminds the characters around her, as well as the audience, that these women are human beings who grew up with hopes and dreams, and who didn't choose this for themselves but are suffering the consequences of the opioid crisis and of their surroundings. It's a moving stance, and the show is most effective at getting at this idea through Mickey's use of photos of the victims, not from how they were found in the streets, but from their lives before — graduation photos, sports team photos of the women as smiling young girls with their lives still ahead of them, some from only a few years prior to their murder. It's haunting and devastating and a wildly effective detail in the storytelling.

7.0

Long Bright River

at Peacock

Like

• Amanda Seyfried's incredible performance
• A great ensemble of characters with real specificity
• The compassion it gives its subject matter

Dislike

• Heavy-handedness in some of the storytelling
• A forgettable central mystery

Unfortunately, at times, Long Bright River undercuts that effectiveness with heavy-handedness. By the end of the series, which, again, quite poignantly shows us how Mickey is humanizing oft-discarded victims, one character sits with her to tell her how important it is that she advocates for them, that she calls these women by name, that she exercises empathy. Basically, we're getting an unnecessary recap of the show's most important themes. And many times, we are told explicitly that Mickey is closed off and doesn't know how to trust people instead of just letting us see it (which we do!). There's even an episode titled "Let Me In," in case you don't get it. This heavy-handedness shows itself in other aspects of the series, too: Nothing grinds my gears more in a mystery than being told in bright, blinking lights that this is an important clue, remember? A character finally discovers who owns a mysterious red truck we've seen a few times, and we quickly flash back to all of those times we've previously seen it instead of just trusting the audience to remember. This happens multiple times throughout the series. It's wholly unnecessary and, honestly, distracting. 

The other way Long Bright River undercuts its poignant message is also its most egregious misstep: Not enough of this story is told from Kacey's perspective. Mickey is our protagonist, and it's gorgeous to watch her give voice to the voiceless, but at the same time, why does the show itself not give a little more voice to the voiceless? This isn't just an issue because of the messaging, but because I wanted more scenes shared between Seyfried and Cummings. As the Fitzpatrick sisters, they are the heart of this show, and any scene that they do share as Long Bright River weaves together the story of their past and present really sings. Those moments when they navigate their complicated but formidable relationship are emotional and intense, and it's hard not to wonder if seeing more of Kacey's life would have made them even stronger. 

While that aspect of the show feels like a missed opportunity, do you know who doesn't miss? Amanda Seyfried — the other element of this series who might give it hope to rise above the sea of TV crime dramas. She's never been better. Her performance feels authentic and lived in, and — in another example of why that heavy-handedness is unnecessary — she so beautifully reveals what Mickey is thinking every step of the way. All of Mickey's emotions, as she navigates solving the spree of sex worker murders and trying to figure out what has happened to Kacey, are simmering below the surface, and you can see those emotions all over Seyfried's face, fighting with Mickey's desire to push people away. That push and pull is palpable. The weight of her guilt and grief is in every movement. While Seyfried and Cummings are excellent together, Seyfried has a lot of great scene partners, including Callum Vinson as Mickey's son, Thomas; Vinson is one of the sweetest, most heartbreaking kid actors I've seen in a while, and I would like him and Seyfried to play son and mother always. 

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The pacing — as the show juggles the murders, Kacey's disappearance, and various flashbacks — is on point, even with most episodes running close to or over 60 minutes. The story never feels like it lags, even though the mysteries presented are more emotionally compelling than they are intricate, and much of that is thanks to the specificity of this cast of characters, which also includes: Mickey's tough but mostly quite caring grandfather, G-pops (John Doman), who raised her and her sister; her former partner, Truman Dawes (Nicholas Pinnock), who has been trying to years to get Mickey to fully open up to him; and, a real surprise MVP, Mrs. Mahon (Harriet Sansom Harris), Mickey's nosy landlady, who in a beautiful way becomes an important part of Mickey's support system. When all else fails, this ensemble and this mix of characters make it easy to keep coming back.

So maybe what I'll take away from watching Long Bright River isn't simply how it is sure to be compared to all the other crime dramas out there. Maybe what I'll take away from it is how the show, at its core, makes an effort to lead with compassion, and how even amidst the tragic story it tells, it finds a way to end with a little optimism. It's easy to be cynical and to see the worst in people (and TV shows), and Long Bright River certainly attempts to buck that trend. Maybe that heart is what will help viewers connect. But if it doesn't, isn't it nice to know you have a long, long list of other options?

Premieres: Thursday, March 13 on Peacock
Who's in it: Amanda Seyfried, Nicholas Pinnock, Ashleigh Cummings, John Doman, Calum Vinson
Who's behind it: Nikki Toscano (showrunner, co-writer, director, executive producer), Liz Moore (co-writer and executive producer), Hagar Ben-Asher (director and executive producer)
For fans of: Crime dramas that lean more emotional than surprising
How many episodes we watched: 8 of 8