Have you been watching Intruders? That’s actually a trick question – nobody has been watching Intruders. BBC2’s thriller about John Simm investigating a shadowy cabal of bodysnatching immortals launched a month ago with a double bill that ladled context-free violence over breadcrumbs of plot. That was apparently enough to convince most viewers that the moody BBC America co-production wasn’t their cup of tea. By episode three, viewing figures had dropped to around 400,000 and the rest of the eight-part series will play out late on Saturday nights. (It’s a shame, because episode six is when someone finally sits down and explains how all the soul-swapping Egyptian reincarnation stuff works.)
Perhaps it will find a second life on streaming services, but Intruders is just the latest in a conga line of cackhandedly cryptic TV shows that mistake heightened style and evasive storytelling for genuinely intriguing drama. Twin Peaks may be the ultimate touchstone, but many of these series arrived in the wake of Lost, clearly influenced by its zig-zagging plot threads and seemingly random appearances of mysteries and monsters. What Lost did right, though, was devote entire episodes to character flashbacks – even if you couldn’t get a handle on what the deal was with the hatch, you at least knew what motivated the key cast. Intruders, and these other oblique misfires, demonstrably failed to crack that code.
The Prisoner (2009)
Not the searing original, which still stands as one of the most remarkable and disturbing TV shows ever broadcast. This is the muddled reboot; a collaboration between ITV and AMC with big names – notably Jim Caviezel and Ian McKellen – and an even bigger Rover. But where was the panache? Compared with McGoohan’s devilishly stroppy Number Six, Caviezel looked half asleep, and you could hardly blame him. There was nothing about the eerie calm of “the Village”, his unexplained prison without walls, that seemed worth staying awake for.
John from Cincinatti (2007)
David Milch’s bewildering follow-up to Deadwood debuted right after the last episode of The Sopranos. Perhaps the world was too busy trying to process that divisive finale to get on board with his magical realist tale of John Monad (Austin Nichols), a koan-spouting savant who ingratiates himself with an ailing California beachside community. The surfing footage looked amazing, but the mystery of whether John was a genius, a robot or Jesus failed to spark much debate. It did pose some pressing questions, though. Such as: what’s the deal with his haircut?
Outcasts (2011)
BBC1’s galactically underwhelming tale of recolonisation beyond the stars had a dual-track narrative. Alongside the infrastructural teething troubles of setting up a new social order, Outcasts threw in weird physical manifestations that were potentially emanating from the alien planet itself. While the local government stuff was as easy to parse as your average episode of Holby City, the enigmatic sci-fi elements never gained much traction and were left to hover in the background. Like Intruders, it was banished to a graveyard timeslot midway through its run.
Cape Wrath (2007)
A co-production between Channel 4 and Showtime, Cape Wrath (which was retitled Meadowlands in the US) seemed to exist to answer one simple question: what would happen if you crossed Lost with Brookside? David Morrissey and his family relocated to an eerie UK cul-de-sac – “the safest place on Earth” – in what initially seemed to be some sort of purgatorial witness protection scheme. Wildly unpopular when first broadcast, this slice of Barratt Homes gothic at least offers an extended glimpse of early Tom Hardy, who puts together a solidly ominous performance as a horny handyman with an eye as wandering as his growly accent.
La Femme Nikita (1997-2001)
Not exactly a failure – it aired for five seasons – but this late-night Channel 5 staple, based on Luc Besson’s typically stylish movie (and produced by a pre-24 Joel Surnow) compensated for its lack of action budget by turning assassination bureau Section One into a head-wrecking psycho-opera shot in the style of German expressionist cinema. Mindgames, moral murkiness, and an almost classic Prisoner-style atmosphere of paranoia made it some of the confusing post-pub viewing of all time, not least because Nikita’s sullen handler Michael bore an uncanny resemblance to Stephen Hendry.
Have you been sticking with Intruders? Let us know below
