The title pulled me in. The premise - a serial killer's daughter hiding her identity - had weight, tension, something dark and promising. And with Analeigh Ashford in the lead, I figured it had the bones to go somewhere. Episode 1 delivered. It leaned into the paranoia, the fear, the secrets.
Then the show took a wrong turn. The original premise faded, replaced by a routine detective drama padded with forgettable side characters and even more forgettable subplots. Melissa, once a compelling center, spirals into something shrill and exhausting. Her husband - a blank. Her daughter - unbearable.
But Dennis Quaid. He does something almost supernatural. As the serial killer - the actual murderer - he becomes the only one you want to watch. Charming, calm, and razor-sharp, he commands every scene with a twisted campy elegance. Somehow, he turns the monster into the magnet. You don't just understand him. You root for him.
It's a masterclass in subversion. The killer becomes the hero. Everyone else fades. And by the end, you realize the most dangerous man in the story is the only one worth following.
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