Paradise: Season 1

Episodes viewed: 7 of 8
Streaming on: Disney+

In 2017, shows like House Of Cards and Veep knew their days were numbered. After all, it’s hard to maintain heightened stories about a wildly unstable caricature in the Oval Office when reality starts to become more absurd than fiction. That’s not something that bothers This Is Us creator Dan Fogelman, though, who has chosen 2025 to launch a similarly exaggerated series about a capricious puppet President whose every move is directed by a nefarious billionaire tech baron. It rapidly becomes clear, however, that it is on that point and that point alone that Paradise intersects with the wider world around us.

This is a show with a fairly straightforward concept — a politically charged whodunnit dabbling in the obscenity of late-stage capitalism, extreme wealth as absolute power, and the dangers of unelected oligarchies. But it’s also a show that is self-consciously more than that, with a high concept superordinate premise that reshapes all of the above into something altogether unexpected. To lay out the specifics of quite how these pieces fall into place would be to spoil the surprise, but suffice it to say that while this is indeed a conspiracy thriller with a sideline in less-than-subtle social commentary, it has a joker up its sleeve, one that will ultimately determine how readily you buy what Paradise is selling.

The mystery is equal parts ridiculous and ridiculously addictive.

Fogelman reunites with This Is Us standout Sterling K. Brown, who portrays Secret Service agent Xavier Collins as coolly professional, guarded and wrestling with bone-deep grief as he attempts to serve a President he despises while mourning the death of his wife and raising two children alone. That family ties and turbulence play a key role here should come as no surprise to fans of that earlier long-running NBC drama, Fogelman once again leaning on split-chronology storytelling as we follow Collins’ investigation, while regularly hopping back to the years, months and days before the President’s death, teasing out the reasons for protector and protectee’s since-soured relationship.

The mystery itself is equal parts ridiculous and ridiculously addictive, with enough twists, turns and steady reveals to keep you hooked despite yourself as the curtain gradually pulls back to reveal the murder itself is housed inside a much larger puzzle box. And while the story regularly strays into preposterous territory, Brown’s grounding performance — charismatic, steely-eyed, and painfully raw — keeps the wheels from coming off even as the wilder aspects strain credulity.

Fogelman has proven himself adept at emotionally potent, often manipulative storytelling, and Paradise is no exception, breathing life and intrigue into the wider cast, even where some are thinly drawn and verging on archetype. But while there isn’t the character depth or complex dynamics of This Is Us, or the precision-tooled thrills of shows like Sky’s The Day Of The Jackal or Apple’s Hijack, this is a propulsive, fiendishly addictive thriller nonetheless, and one with a potent sting in its tail.