‘Eric’ (2024) Netflix Series Review - Benedict Cumberbatch Screams for Your Attention

Benedict Cumberbatch is an expert at playing an asshole (The Power of the Dog), a genius (Sherlock) or an asshole genius (Doctor Strange). In Eric, the actor plays a character that comes across as an asshole genius. Cumberbatch's Vincent is a gifted artist (a puppeteer) who loves art so much he rejects compromises. He doesn't want his work to be censored or dictated. Vincent does not apply a filter on his words in front of politicians, so his colleagues and bosses find him insufferable. They all like his talent but dislike his I-am-the-smartest-guy-in-the-room behavior. People generally think of great artists as "eccentric types," and Vincent with his "mad genius" shtick (he always seems high on caffeine and cries for his art and at one point mentions how he introduced someone to the world of influential directors), in a way, comes across as an artist viewed through a lens filled with clichés. Director Lucy Forbes's depiction of Vincent is not so different from what hack directors do with their writer characters: Have them look at their blank pages on a typewriter with a cigarette in one hand.

This is not the only cliché you find in Vincent. Turns out, he also has familial issues that have given him mental complications. His mother is your usual self-absorbed rich princess who must have spent less time tending to her son's needs and more on either tea parties or in front of the mirror. Phoebe Nicholls, however, makes a meal out of a thin part that merely asks her to be a bitchy mother. Vincent's father (John Doman) is a forgettable character with an I-am-busy-with-work-and-cannot-spend-time-with-my-son cliché. Unlike Nicholls, Dorman fails to do anything interesting with his presence. As Vincent's wife Cassie, Gaby Hoffmann rescues herself from what could have been a one-note performance by making herself vulnerable. She brings all her emotions to the surface. When Cassie informs Vincent about her affair and after a lot of quarreling, he calls her a good mother (the best, in fact), you notice softness returning to her face. She brings out whatever love she has for her husband and praises their child, their beautiful creation. But Vincent suddenly uses the f-word, and you clearly observe the look of shock it brings to Cassie's face. You feel as if she is scolding herself for letting her guard down and being kind to her husband.

Vincent irks many people, so when his son, Edgar (Ivan Morris Howe), goes missing, and Vincent's self-important demeanor breaks, you consider the event to be a slap in his face. Edgar's disappearance prepares you for the kind of show where unfortunate incidents are used to reveal ugly secrets. Eric is not really that kind of show. It doesn't break any happy facades because everything looks unpleasant from the beginning itself. Characters talk about irregular pick up of garbage (it just lies on the street and spoils the environment), husband and wife argue with each other, and someone's lover is seen close to death. To make matters more depressing, pedophiles are lurking in the shadows, and racism is present in the air. Eric's rotten atmosphere (even the lights are quite dim) gets to you and almost forces you to take a shower. Add to this the editing from Dan Gage, Selina Macarthur, and Peter Oliver that keeps you off balance (I was taken aback by the suddenness with which a character is shown later), and you have a show that puts you in the middle of the dirt and sucks you in with its ugliness - until it loses its effect.

The problem with Eric is that beneath its appealing style, there is unremarkable substance. After a while, you realize that Vincent is nothing more than a "neglected by parents" child, that Cassie is mainly used for generating artificial drama through labored husband-wife confrontations, that the series can do nothing but ultimately settle for feeble scenes like Vincent finding his child like a treasure seeker, that a club owner is nothing but a variation of a "prostitute with a golden heart" character (this man simply exists in the background and is present to just help a police officer later). If Edgar's disappearance doesn't fill the narrative with suspense, that's because Eric uses Edgar's domestic life to create a connection between the New York residents. If Edgar's parents have made his home unlivable, the government has made the city uninhabitable, terrible for its citizens. If you aren't able to connect this dot, fret not. Abi Morgan's script highlights the connection towards the end.

Coming to the titular character: He exists in Vincent's imagination. His presence is meant to infuse this series with an offbeat comic touch, but this seven-foot-tall puppet doesn't feel amusing and comes across as an overblown "quirky element." Then there is Cumberbatch, for whom this whole series serves as an acting exercise. I suspect his inflated, conspicuous gestures will earn him critical acclaim. Cumberbatch is so loud and theatrical that you find yourself drawn toward quiet performances like the one by Erika Soto, whose gentle presence calms your senses. And as far as McKinley Belcher III is concerned, I found him very bland. Edgar says that he likes his mother more than his father. There is a scene where Cassie recognizes Edgar's clothes due to two faded alphabets. Yet, Eric prioritizes the father-son angle and converts the mother into a screaming, weepy figure. Eric initially promises to be something different. By the end, it leaves you unsatisfied and tired, like most Netflix Originals.

Final Score- [5/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times