by Mike Hilty, Contributing Writer
The first time I realized that Hollywood recycles ideas was in 1997 when Dante’s Peak and Volcano came out months apart. It floored me that two movies with similar premises could come out so close together. Every year, a pair of movies comes out, and we question why we needed two of their particular ilk. Did we need two films about friends who hook up together without defining their relationship, or two movies about the White House being infiltrated by terrorists, causing the President to flee?
TV isn’t immune to this either, with the story of Candy Montgomery getting double treatment. One series is Candy on Hulu, and the latest comes one year later: Love & Death.
It’s hard not to compare these two series, because they tell similar stories in parallel ways. The only thing really different between the two is the performances. In the case of Love & Death, the key difference is Elizabeth Olsen’s performance as Candy. Olsen brings so much charisma to the role, while also sympathetically portraying Candy. We are starting to get spoiled by Olsen’s performances, as she manages to be great in everything she does, even if the script doesn’t do her a lot of favors.
In addition to Candy’s performance, I really love what her lawyer, Don Crowder (Tom Pelphrey), does as well. Although I don’t understand the legal implications of a civil lawyer working on a criminal case, Pelphrey delivers a slam-dunk performance, and hopefully this vaults him to more prominent roles in the future.
The story of Candy Montgomery is fascinating to put on screen. It’s a story that definitely scratches the true crime itch that is captivating Hollywood right now, but it’s also a unique case. I won’t spoil the case, even though it happened over 40 years ago, but there was sensationalism that took place. It was a full-scale assault on both the victim and the defendant, with innocent until proven guilty being thrown out the door, and protests occurring. The public discourse around religion and women helped shape the controversial case as well.
The story structure of the show is fairly linear, meaning that we have time to get to know Candy and the other people in her life. There’s a pretty large focus on her family, including her husband Pat (Patrick Fugit) and her kids. Pat is quite a character, because crisis seems to snap him into focus. Candy and Pat’s marriage is on life support, but when Candy gets into legal trouble, their relationship manages to get stronger. One would think their marriage wouldn’t survive something like what happened to Candy, but they get through it together.
We also spend a lot of time with Allen Gore (Jesse Plemons), who knows Candy through church. Allen is an extremely dry character, and it makes me wonder how Candy becomes entangled with him in the first place. We spend a lot of time with Allen, and Plemons is great, but I also wonder why we got a rather small time with Allen’s wife Betty (Lily Rabe). There isn’t a lot of time spent with her, and all the time that is spent with her is showing people at the church disliking her and talking behind her back. Although I was initially confused about why there was so little screen time for Betty, I finally concluded that maybe the showrunners were trying to portray her in a certain light to treat Candy as more of a victim.
Church culture is under a microscope in this series, particularly southern church culture. In Texas, where this story takes place, power is amassed in a church through participation and reputation. Candy has a strong reputation at their church, as does her lawyer, Don. Betty, unfortunately, has the participation down, but struggles with a bad reputation. This comes into play during the case and investigation, and with it being set during the 1980s, it definitely matters since it was pre-internet. Rumors run out of control, and everything is hearsay and speculation at best.
Mental health also comes into play during the case, for both Candy and Betty. Candy has no case for insanity; instead, it’s one of someone who snaps and lets their repressed memories get the best of them. I wanted to hear more about this, mainly because the way that mental health is talked about in the ‘80s shows how little of a focus there was on the topic.
Love & Death is a good true crime series that is propped up by strong performances. The only reason I like it slightly better than Candy on Hulu is that I also question why we needed either of them in the first place. There are tons of other true crime cases that are worthy of the Hollywood treatment, but I struggle with the relevance that makes this particular one shine today. Had there not been two series about it, I never would have known about the trial and hoopla involved. This is a tepid recommendation, and with so much great television out there right now, it should stay on the back burner until the queue is cleared up.
Score: 7/10
Love & Death is currently streaming on Max
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