
JP Pomare’s thriller novel The Last Guests is a bit of a potboiler, but it is well-paced and unpredictable – barrelling through a twisty storyline about a married couple who rent out their lake house on an Airbnb-like platform. The juiciest element is a lurid subplot about a network of voyeurs watching live streams from covertly installed cameras. A lot of this simmers in the background, but snippets of this shady society are strewn throughout, coming to the fore in dramatic narrative flashpoints.
The book’s television adaptation, Watching You, minimises this element, effectively removing the society of voyeurs in favour of a more traditional villain and a smaller scale. It’s a weird decision; imagine if the film adaptation of Sliver had removed most of the book’s famous “peeping Tom” elements. Those who haven’t read The Last Guests won’t know what they’ve missed out on, of course, but those like me who have may wonder what on earth the show’s creators/writers (Alexei Mizin and Ryan van Dijk) were thinking. We want our sick, salacious voyeurs!
The series feels more “inspired by” than “based on” the novel. Which, again, wouldn’t have mattered had it succeeded in delivering the kind of pressure-packed, pulse-pounding narrative clearly intended. There are strong elements, including a standout turn from rising star Aisha Dee, who was shockingly good in the Aussie horror movie Sissy and very solidly anchored SBS’s domestic abuse drama Safe Home. But Watching You feels padded out, drags in pace and wanders into territory better covered in last year’s Fake, starring Asher Keddie as a food writer who discovers the shocking truth about her new partner.
The first episode opens in a swanky bar with city views, warm lighting and cocktail-sipping clientele. Lina (Dee), a paramedic, is approached by a man who attempts to chat her up but admits he’s “out of practice”. Lina tells him she’s engaged but responds seductively: “Who says I’m an honest woman?” In no time the pair are elsewhere, going at it on a kitchen bench, continuing film and television’s long tradition of characters bonking in very uncomfortable-looking spaces.
There’s a good reason why it seems to go so easily for this guy: it’s soon revealed he’s in fact Cain (Chai Hansen), Lina’s fiance, and they’re doing some role-playing. This clever reveal makes us reconsider a character we perhaps judged a little quickly. But then, in another unexpected development, we’re prompted to rethink her character again when Lina has a one-night stand with Dan (Josh Helman), whom she meets at a party and pursues after Cain makes a fool of himself.
The next day, Lina realises she left her engagement ring in the apartment where Dan is staying, which is owned by her friends Clare (Laura Gordon) and Axel (Luke Cook). Returning to fetch it, she makes a shocking discovery: the place is rigged with hidden cameras. Dan seems to be equally shocked, so she goes looking for who might’ve installed them, the stakes increasing when she receives an ominous message from a random number: “I’m watching you.” This moment doesn’t register with the intended bang – perhaps because we already assumed someone was watching.
The series initially asks: how might we react if our dirty laundry were exploited by sinister forces? But the plot becomes more sensational, triggering potential murder, various betrayals and a “who’s sleeping with who?” aspect that makes it feel a little soap opera. Whereas the book deployed a massive moment right in the middle, Watching You, by its halfway point, has slowed things down and rearranged its narrative foundation. A “can’t hide from your past” development eventually reignites the drama – albeit too little too late.
Integral to the series is a sense that the walls are closing in for Lina, best evoked through Dee’s performance. She’s the standout in a series that too often wavers and struggles to generate psychological momentum. The society of secret voyeurs, so prominent in the book, could’ve provided that missing jolt of menace and freshness.
Watching You is available to stream in Australia on Stan