Out in the flat swampy Louisiana marshland, dark secrets are emerging from the damp earth. It’s 1995, and two detectives — Martin Hart (Woody Harrelson) and Rust Cohle (Matthew McConaughey) — are assigned a strange case: A young unknown woman is found in the middle of a field, the victim of a horrific murder, her body positioned in a specific way that hints at a sadistic and occultish motive. Told in flashback, we see both men being interviewed about the case in 2012 and recounting, in different ways, what happened 17 years before. Hart, a traditionalist, is confused by what he doesn’t understand and warns about building a narrative out of clues instead of facts. Cohle, who burns with quiet intensity, sees those same clues as an intricate puzzle that must be solved, no matter what it takes.
This ideological split is integral to the dynamic at the heart of HBO’s “True Detective,” which premieres January 12. Written by crime-novelist Nic Pizzolatto and directed by Cary Fukunaga (“Sin Nombre”), the crime thriller uses its two leads to stage a philosophical debate about human nature. Is stability, found in the structure of family, what gives life meaning? Or is everything unpredictable and fleeting and ultimately meaningless? Fukunaga stages many of the scenes between the two characters in cars, giving them ample time to explore their views of the world, resulting in long soliloquies, especially from McConaughey. These can be stiff, even distancing, but are smartly undercut with humor, most of the time from Harrelson, whose reaction shots here deserve a supercut. The dynamic between the two actors, at times unsettling and absurd, falls somewhere between Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson and Felix Unger and Oscar Madison.
Some will be put off by the theatricality of it all, but if you want realism go watch “Cops” or something. This is different, sort of. It’s still a Hollywood product, so it feels like it needs to explain a character’s actions through psychological motivation and backstory — Hart hasn’t always lived up to the moral foundation he espouses, while Cohle’s obsessiveness is the product of a tragic past. But it’s totally invested in the artificiality of it all. Instead of winking at us as it enters the murky waters of noir, it dives right in.
The first thing that reveals the earnestness of “True Detective” is its slow and measured pace. The camera is steady and deliberate, even economical, and Fukunaga isn’t afraid to hold a shot for a long time (the interview segments, especially with McConaughey’s character, are a perfect example) or linger on a small but crucial detail. The editing mirrors this, using a lot of dissolves. But as the series progresses, and the stakes (and characters) get higher and higher, Fukunaga begins to ramp up everything. The tone, which opens like a Southern drawl, becomes frantic. The camera follows suit, resulting in a bravura scene toward the middle of the season composed of one take (you’ll know it when you see it). As we get deeper and deeper into the muck, each episode vibrantly lets content dictate form.
“True Detective” isn’t withdrawn from the clichés of the genre; viewers looking for something completely new will have to look elsewhere. Instead of trying to break free of the style, it seeks to explore it from within, treating familiar tropes with respect for the history of crime drama, from pulp novels to modern police procedurals. If you’re not a fan of this type of show, this won’t be the one to convert you. But if you are, “True Detective” will be a breath of fresh air.
