Last year’s debut “whydunnit” series and Jessica Biel vehicle The Sinner (10 p.m. Wednesdays, USA) is back with new characters, new murders and a few familiar faces. Last year’s star stays behind the camera this time around as we’re introduced to another killer whose motives remain mysterious.
The Sinner was billed as a limited series during its premiere in 2017. I’ve grown wary of supposedly standalone miniseries that suddenly garner another season after a successful run. Take Big Little Lies, for instance. The fantastic HBO hit was similarly marketed as a seven-episode miniseries, but after it garnered love from fans and critics and swept the awards circuit (in the limited series category), a second season was in the works.
Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m excited for more of Reese Witherspoon’s Madeline Martha Mackenzie and the addition of Meryl Streep to the cast, but BLL told a pretty complete story on its own. Lightning rarely strikes twice. Why mess with something already fully realized? (And, if it goes on to get nominated again, will it move to the competitive drama category?)
But The Sinner, originally based on the titular novel by German crime writer Petra Hammesfahr, is different. The first season — about a woman who inexplicably snaps and kills a stranger during a family beach day and the detective who helps her discover why — tied up all its loose ends, so it makes sense that Season 2 takes an anthological move. Focusing on a different crime, The Sinner ventures out of the source book and into original storytelling territory. Oh, and Carrie Coon stars. More on the screen queen in a moment.
Detective Harry Ambrose (Bill Pullman) returns, this time to investigate a murder near his hometown in Upstate New York — a location that brings personal implications for the troubled cop. Harry’s personal life played a significant role last season, as we saw him get divorced, battle addiction and depression and use BDSM as a coping mechanism for his personal trauma. But we didn’t learn much about his childhood, which is explored more in-depth here.
Central to the story is Julian, a 13-year-old boy accused of poisoning his parents. Only they’re not his parents, biologically or legally. In fact, the woman who claims to be his mother isn’t technically his mother either. The twisty plot leads Harry and young detective Heather Novack (Natalie Paul) to small-town cult Mosswood Grove — a “utopian commune” as it were — where Julian was raised by leader Vera Walker (Coon).
Mosswood Grove is something of a notorious mystery for others in the community but Heather has a potentially helpful tie: Years ago, she and her girlfriend Marin (Hannah Gross) snuck into Mosswood; Heather was skeptical, Marin was intrigued. Marin vanished soon after, and her disappearance hangs over Heather, who is desperate to connect that lingering mystery with this new case and solve both.
What exactly binds this cult is still foggy halfway through the season — psychotherapy, hypnosis, labyrinths and a giant rock all hold some significance. And its members are dropping like flies. But that doesn’t deter Harry from trying to get a deeper understanding of the group’s beliefs. As the case triggers memories of his difficult childhood — a mentally ill mother, abandonment, shame — it’s unclear if he’s just going deep to investigate or is truly seeking some kind of peace or clarity through these unconventional means.
First off, sign me up for any cult that Coon leads, because the actress has won me over in everything from Gone Girl to Fargo’s third season to the criminally underrated The Leftovers. She helps elevate what could be wacky, convenient and off-the-rails into a spooky thriller you’re compelled to ride. (Her husband, Tracy Letts, plays a supporting role as Heather’s father and is great, as always.) In fact, the entire cast does a fine job, especially 13-year-old Elisha Henig as the unsettling yet sympathetic Julian.
Where Season 1 focused a lot on Christianity and the conventional definition of sin, the second season introduces a nontraditional (and, to this point, mysterious) belief set, spinning the idea of what it means to be “the sinner” — what’s forgivable, what’s justifiable, what’s not — in a new, intriguing direction.
Contact Jac Kern: @jackern
