In Sugar, which Apple TV premieres this Friday, Colin Farrell is a private detective named John Sugar. He moves through the streets of Los Angeles with a classic convertible that is the antithesis of the man who wants to go unnoticed: he even has to pay homeless people to watch his car when he enters the bar, aware that he is candy for any thug. But he doesn't want to give up his whim. He, as a lover of noir films, imitates his style.
A veteran film producer, Jonathan Siegel, with a spoiled family in show business, asks him to find his granddaughter Olivia (Sydney Chandler). That this millionaire and concerned producer is James Cromwell is a nice detail, taking into account his contribution to noir with L.A. Confidential and that the Curtis Hanson film is even mentioned.
The grandfather, for the record, is the only one who believes that it is a disappearance. The father (Dennis Boutsikaris), for example, is convinced that Olivia is getting into a corner after a drug relapse, and that she will reappear as usual. The aunt (Amy Ryan), a rock star who drinks like a Cossack at any bar, isn't worried either. The stepbrother (Nate Corddry), a child star who hopes to return to the forefront of the industry with an Oscar-winning supporting role in an independent film, directly seems delighted not to have Olivia around.
And, even though Sugar's partner, Ruby (Kirby), advises him not to accept the job because it has commonalities with “what happened to your sister,” he accepts. How can he say no to looking for a young woman who reminds him of a traumatic past that is not made clear to the audience and who, in the process, allows him to be in contact with the creators of the cinema that he compulsively watches? Sugar's identity seems created with scraps of characters played by James Garner or Humphrey Bogart.
Sugar, for the record, is not a parody. It is not a comedy either despite the fact that, starting from the second chapter, the installments last just half an hour. Screenwriter Mark Protosevich (I Am Legend) and director Fernando Meirelles (City of God) conceive a referential, nostalgic work that could fall into parody if it were not for the respect it shows and how it maintains forms.
It is, so that we understand each other, a whim for nostalgic people, who are interested in imagining Colin Farrell in an always splendid suit, with his convertible, obviously narrating the plot and his character's concerns for a rotten city of Los Angeles, where Hollywood created dream realities while having a hell behind the mythical letters.
And, for series fans, it is also an unavoidable event because Protosevich makes some unusual narrative decisions: he transforms the most classic noir into a mystery designed for debate. Or the fiercest criticism. Or the controversy. And, those who arrive at the end of the season will be happy to be able to participate in the conversation of a work that never wants to stop being entertaining. Or maybe they will be angry and need to express it.
Listen to me. Watch Sugar, even if it's to hate me for having recommended it with my hands tied.
