This blog contains spoilers for the pilot episode of Hand of God, available since last year on Amazon Instant Video. The full 10-episode series is available from today.
The guy who played Hellboy, going through hell. That could be the one-line pitch for Hand of God, Amazon’s latest self-funded foray into original drama. After last year’s bleak pilot, the full 10-episode first season is available to righteously binge on from today. It stars deeply furrowed character actor Ron Perlman as a notorious hanging judge in San Vicente, the (fictional) Californian town his ancestors helped establish. But the big man with the gavel has unravelled – his son has been in a coma for seven months and counting, the result of a suicide bid after being forced to witness the sexual assault of his wife.
Driven to despair, Judge Pernell Harris starts experiencing unsettling visions, including cryptic instructions seemingly issued by his unconscious son. After a spiritual epiphany, the judge embarks on his own ad-hoc vigilante campaign to hunt down the criminals responsible for attacking his daughter-in-law, recruiting a fervently religious but volatile convict (Garret Dillahunt) to do most, but not all, of his dirty work. Intriguingly, the judge’s spiritual awakening doesn’t seem to deter him from pursuing his other corrupt shenanigans in San Vicente, notably helping push through a major development deal with the mayor (Andre Royo).
If that sounds almost self-consciously grim and gritty, it’s in keeping with Hand of God’s carefully cultivated atmosphere of urban corruption and moral decay. The first two episodes are directed by Marc Forster, the man who made World War Z and Quantum of Solace, the most oddball Bond in recent memory. Here, he swaps wrangling hordes of CGI undead and exotic continent-hopping for something more like his breakthrough film Monster’s Ball – heavily loaded interactions between flawed people in what seems to be a pretty uncaring universe.
Pernell’s zeal is foregrounded, as if the only way he can achieve true justice is by unleashing some Old Testament vengeance – judge, fury and executioner – and praying to the Almighty for a miracle to resurrect his son. To that end, a slippery, surprisingly sexy preacher couple (played by Julian Morris and Elizabeth McLaughlin) seem to be enablers, hustling up funds for their Hand of God outreach. That nascent church, which appears to have been designed from ornate bits left over from Hannibal’s production design, has a flock of stuffed birds hanging from the ceiling like the sinister forest of Magic Tree air fresheners in Seven, one of Hand of God’s most audacious visual touches.
Nominally, the show seems to want to explore how people will go beyond their usual morality in the name of religion, which feels like a pretty timely question. As it is rendered here, the judge’s fervour feels more like a narrative springboard to get to the good stuff – vengeance, sexual blackmail and cold-blooded murder. It’s desperate to be the sort of show that requires the digging of holes, late at night, to try to bury bad things.
Somewhere on a spreadsheet, it’s probably also exactly the sort of show that Amazon needs. Its subscription Instant Video service is doing well in the UK with imports such as Vikings and, particularly, Outlander, but Amazon has yet to generate an original drama series with the same critical and cultural cachet as Transparent, its breakout award-winning comedy. Its previous series Bosch, based on Michael Connelly’s best-selling books, is a sturdy procedural with a fine central performance by Titus Welliver, but had nothing particularly grabby about it. And while its most recent pilots Sneaky Pete and Casanova will both continue in some form, Hand of God is here-and-now proof that Amazon can do cable-style anti-herocentric drama.
Perlman, who exec-produces, is the driving force behind Hand of God but there are also other promising things in the margins. As the judge’s wife, Dana Delaney gets to bust balls – literally – while her sneaky marijuana habit and penchant for shredding commiseration cards hints at depths to her character beyond the power suits. And as the sly, fly, deal-cutting mayor, Andre Royo overflows with charisma. It’s as if Bubbles, his character from the Wire, had unexpectedly swapped places with Carcetti – even though he is clearly involved in dodgy deals, Royo is such an appealing actor, you find yourself rooting for the mayor. Additionally, his attempts to cut costs by hiring his disinterested, slacker son as his right hand man are Hand of God’s most reliable source of comedy, even if these moments sit rather awkwardly among its doomy milieu.
Elsewhere, it can feel like a Hellboy-esque monster stitched together from existing parts. There’s a mournful, bluesy theme to go with the conspicuously art-directed credits. Like Tony Soprano, the judge has a fearsome, capable wife and a fancy lady on the side. Like Walter White, he turns up babbling and near-naked in a public space early on, jeopardising his standing in the community. There’s also a regular ration of nudity and profanity but that’s actually OK, because it really is quite fun to hear Perlman drop F-bombs in his bellicose baritone. But to go the distance with Hand of God, you might need to take some of it on faith.
Will you be giving Hand of God a fair shake? Let us know in the comments below.
