In this compulsive but slowburning US drama, a man returns to his hometown, the ficticious Paulie, Georgia, after spending nearly two decades on death row. There’s little action and no death, save for one suicide. Tellingly, the most violent scene in the whole series is one of self-harm as a death row inmate repeatedly smashes his face into his cell window. Instead, Rectify is full of pent-up frustrations and unresolved issues.
It is also deeply ambiguous: Daniel Holden, played with an often solemn unreadability by Aden Young, may be out of prison but he’s far from in the clear. Almost 20 years ago, a magic-mushroom-fuelled night out in the woods with his teenage pals ended in his 16-year-old girlfriend’s brutal murder. His eventual release from incarceration is a result of a mix-up with DNA evidence, enough to call a mistrial. He’s out on a technicality and far from exonerated, certainly in the eyes of many of the townsfolk. Did he do it? We don’t know – yet. In fact, despite confessing to it at the time, Daniel is himself far from sure what went on that fateful night.
We first meet Daniel on his release day. As he is being processed, he finds himself unable to put on a tie, having long forgotten how to do so. He’s an intriguing mixture: helpless child and possible murderer. Young makes both aspects believable and somehow non-contradictory. He plays Daniel slightly out of sync with the world and other people. He speaks slower, his tone a touch deeper than everyone else’s. He was still in his late teens when arrested, a crucial age for developing social skills and personality – “I will seriously need to reconsider my world view,” he deadpans upon release. Now, when he tries to explain even simple things, he ends up babbling, which doesn’t bode well for his credibility or innocence. Staring at the same four walls with the spectre of death hanging over him for nigh-on two decades might not have resulted in a full, well-adjusted person, which is a terrific role for an actor as subtle as Young.
In fact, Rectify is an actors’ show. Daniel’s case simmers away in the background while character is brought to the fore, to be explored in forensic detail. And there’s not a weak link in this terrific ensemble: Daniel is not the only person to suffer because of his long spell in the big house. There’s his oddly named sister Amantha, played by True Detective’s Abigail Spencer, who campaigned tirelessly for his release and now finds a void in her life.
Daniel’s father died when he was in prison and his mother remarried. This has given her a stepson, Teddy, who expects to take over the family tyre business. At first, Teddy seems like a charmless jerk, threatened by the return of Daniel. But, thanks to a knockout turn by Clayne Crawford, we come to understand and sympathise with him – all of which leads to some of the show’s most devastating scenes. Many characters change, evolving with the story; such as the local sheriff who becomes less and less convinced of Daniel’s guilt. Another great performance comes from Adelaide Clemens as Tawney, Teddy’s deeply religious wife who is unprepared for the intense feelings her reaching out to Daniel dredges up.
It may sound deathly serious and hard to love, but the whole thing is shot through with a wonderfully dark, southern humour. It’s beyond gallows, as Daniel explains: “We call it lethal injection humour – more humane, but not as funny.” This gives it a unique flavour; it’s by far the best show that no one is talking about.
