Written by Steven Allison
You – originally aired on Lifetime and now available on Netflix – follows hipsterish Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley), an intelligent bookstore manager who falls for and fixates on Guinevere Beck (Elizabeth Lail). Using his technological, cyberstalking prowess, he manipulates Beck into his depraved fold. Though, when things don’t go his way, there’s a price to be paid.
The world of understatement definitely isn’t where You hangs out. About as subdued as Glenn Close’s Alex Forrest in Fatal Attraction, this psychological thriller series wouldn’t be the same wonderfully weird, little creature if it did. Joe has a load of characteristics that would win people over. He’s handsome, witty, well-read and charming. And this is why You is such a fresh take on the subject matter of obsession. Its protagonist is a likeable nutcase rather than the usual morose, isolated creep who whiles away time spanking the monkey in a dingy basement apartment, fantasising about the object of his obsession. Although, it has to be noted that Joe is partial to a spot of impromptu masturbation wherever he finds himself. A bush on the street? Not a problem for Joe. In many ways, Joe’s narrative is convincing, and it’s easy to find yourself rooting for him. That is until you remember the cold, twisted truth of what the hell he’s up to. He’s a confidence trickster of the highest order, not only duping vulnerable, troubled Beck, but also us viewers.
This alone makes the series pretty addictive, but the addiction is to a sorely guilty pleasure. Guilty because Greg Berlanti and Sera Gamble have created something that sits more comfortably on the trashy-teen-drama side of the fence, with a serious thriller on the other side, desperately trying to climb over – it absolutely reeks of Gossip Girl on occasion. Some clever writing does a great job of subverting audience expectations time and time again. The series is split by its scattered yet abundant twists, which aren’t always soaked in credibility, but never fail to entertain. These twists do mean that the show is broken up in the oddest way. At first, it appears as if Joe will be forced to deal with a new obstacle in every episode, but his lengthy, drawn-out clash with Guinevere’s wary – although equally warped – best friend Peach (Shay Mitchell) makes it clear that You doesn’t take the approach where an inciting incident kicks off each episode.
The main characters are well-developed, even if they’re not all likeable, and the performances are sturdy overall. Joe obviously isn’t the way he is without reason, and we’re offered expository flashbacks to the monstrous circumstances that shaped him. And Badgley does beguilingly menacing well in the role. Beck’s odd family situation explains her naïve, often problematic eccentricity, but she borders on ridiculous and hammy in parts. Her wealthy friends Peach, Annika (Kathryn Gallagher), and Lynn (Nicole Kang) serve up all the clichés expected of the wealthy Manhattan elite, helping the show’s tackier side along the way.
There’s a modest lull in the middle of the 10-episode run of season 1 – based on the eponymous 2014 novel by Caroline Kepnes – which is driven by little other than voiceover. During this, we hear a one-off voiceover from Beck’s perspective, which objectively goes some way in counterbalancing Joe’s ongoing, all-consuming narrative, but subjectively just seems disconcertingly arbitrary. If you work past the considerable midway lacuna, there are rewards to be had. While I almost gave up, I advise you to do otherwise.
You is as bad as good television gets and as good as bad television gets. It’s fun and utterly watchable, but not what you’d class as a masterpiece by any means. There’s a brilliance to it in that it highlights the fact that danger can lay behind the charming, trustworthy face of almost anyone we know. And it’s frightening because it demonstrates how simple it is to understand where such an individual is coming from. Does my empathy (sort of) for Joe mean that I’m a lunatic too? Uh oh, you’d all better watch out.
