A lone woman is shopping in a crafts store, pushing her half-filled cart lackadaisically down an aisle lined with wooden birdhouses and wicker baskets, when she sniffs the air and stops. Looking up, she sees a curtain of smoke rising toward the rafters. There’s a fire. It’s right in front of her. Then there’s another and another. Suddenly, people are screaming. They rush toward the exit, but this one unfortunate shopper is trapped by the proliferating blaze. Everything in the store is kindling, and the metal shelving hems in what’s becoming a human fire-pit. She runs, she covers her mouth, she crawls, but the smoke is too thick to see through and the heat — my god, the heat — is searing.
When the woman escapes, stumbling into a door that explodes the second she pushes through it, there’s a sense of relief. She’s out. She’s alive. She’s even able to stand up. But then, as she looks down at her arm, a strip of flesh peels off and falls to the ground like a lump of ham from a deli slicer. As she stands there staring at it, too horrified to move another inch, the smoke now rises from her.
This scene, from the premiere episode of Dennis Lehane’s new Apple series, “Smoke,” is one of the most upsetting in recent memory. The grounded set-up turns into a living nightmare with such harrowing speed that it almost feels cruel when her shocking survival plays out like a bait and switch: She survived the fire, sure, but her anguish is just beginning. The body horror aspect is disgusting enough by itself — I have not, nor will I ever see “The Substance” — but it’s the blink-of-an-eye contrast between carrying out a boring daily chore and having the rest of your life ruined that really sticks.
But when I looked back on the scene after seeing all nine wild episodes of “Smoke,” it’s clear this moment is designed for more than shock value. Yes, it’s a potent illustration that fire is very, very dangerous. But it’s also another kind of warning — a meta warning. Not that “Smoke” is about to flip into a full-on horror show (it doesn’t), but that the series is operating in a pulpier, more sensationalized mode than Lehane’s previous collaboration with Taron Egerton, “Black Bird.” While examining similar issues through a similar dual-portrait dynamic, “Smoke” isn’t the solemn, serious drama series it first presents itself to be. It’s straight-up sicko shit, and it drops just enough clues to signal the turn before shedding its refined, respectable skin.
Inspired by true events but very much its own thing, “Smoke” starts with a self-edit. Dave Gudsen (Taron Egerton) is trying to describe his infatuation with fire, and he can’t get it right. “Every fire starts small,” he narrates, before cutting himself off and starting over. Eventually, he settles on a simple question: “Who would you be in a fire?” When it comes to Dave, the answer is simple: He sees himself as a the hero. A former firefighter who’s now an arson investigator, Dave strides through his life like the cock of the walk — despite ample evidence to the contrary.
Chief of which is the fact that he’s been chasing not one, but two serial fire-starters for over a year with zero leads. All they have to go on is how each arsonist goes about burning things down. The one they call “Divide and Conquer,” or “D&C,” likes to start a small fire in one location while setting another fire on a time delay at a second location in order to spread the firefighters thin, making it harder to control the second, bigger blaze. The second arsonist has a simpler approach: “Milk Jug” sets milk jugs filled with flammable liquid under people’s porches in the wee hours of the morning. The location of the blaze traps the sleeping victims inside, while the speed of its spread makes it difficult to contain.
To help out, the police send over a troubled (or troublesome?) detective, Michelle Calderone (Jurnee Smollett). Calderone is a Marine who trains hard every morning and renovates her house with a sledgehammer most nights. She can go drink for drink with anyone, and she has no problem meeting Dave’s early challenges, whether he’s pushing her to give up details about her personal life or questioning her ability to tail a suspect.
The two form a familiar partnership, and for its two-part premiere, “Smoke” wants you to think it’s going to be a fairly routine mystery-thriller where Dave and Michelle run through fire to catch the uncatchable bad guys. But, well, there are these nagging curiosities that don’t seem to fit. There’s Freddie (Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine), a fast-food worker at a chicken shack whose scenes don’t seem to connect with the others. There’s the book Dave’s writing (you know, because he has so much free time while these fire-starters are on the loose) and the fact that his otherwise loving wife (Hannah Emily Anderson) hates the first draft for being too “dude-centric.”
And then there’s the little embarrassing details about Dave that don’t fit with the heroic image he paints for himself. He wears fake glasses when he writes to look more like an author. He can’t keep up with Calderon, a true badass, while on the clock, and he can’t get it up with his wife while off of it. When we find out he doesn’t show up for department-wide celebrations — the kind of bar-closing nights out he loves to conduct on his own terms — it’s clear there’s more to Dave than the vision he has for himself, and once “Smoke” kicks down the trap door he’s hiding behind, the explosions just keep coming.
Not all of them burn with equal brightness, and there are a number of moments where the series feels like it takes things too far, whether it’s in the minor details or major plot twists. But if you can accept “Smoke” as a gonzo piece of sensationalism, it’s a thoroughly entertaining ride. Egerton chews up the scenery in ways he’s rarely been allowed to do. Smollett is, once again, pure dynamite, Mwine handles a tricky part with grace and vibrance, and the supporting cast — which comes to include John Leguizamo as a sleazebag with a heart of gold, Greg Kinnear as the kind but conflicted captain, and Rafe Spall as the exact opposite role from his other Apple show, “Trying” — is uniformly strong.
Premiere director Kari Skogland (“The Handmaid’s Tale”) sets a visual template that’s crystal clear, never allowing the dark subject matter or environments cloud what’s going on, and Thom Yorke’s original song over the opening credits sets an eerie tone that becomes a sturdy backbone amid the madness. Best of all, as Lehane is wont to do, the roaring excitement carrying episodes forward is laced with an unmistakable critique of misguided masculinity, especially as it applies to a world becoming more and more accepting of self-delusion. As horrifying as the unexpected can be, our truest atrocities are often staring us right in the face — so long as we have the conviction to look.
Grade: B-
“Smoke” premieres Friday, June 27 with two episodes on Apple TV+. New episodes will be released weekly through the finale (Episode 9) on Friday, August 15.