Colman Domingo elevates Netflix's conspiracy thriller The Madness
The limited series tackles timely themes (from political extremism to media mania) but stumbles a bit with its storytelling.
“They love the look; they love the poise. I told them, ‘No shit, Sherlock. Now give my man his show,’” one character tells Colman Domingo’s Muncie Daniels in an early episode of Netflix’s new limited series, The Madness. The context is that Daniels, a contributing political pundit at CNN, is on the brink of finally getting his own solo series on the news network, but the sentiment could apply to Domingo himself.
An Emmy-winning actor known for his supporting work on HBO’s Euphoria and AMC’s Fear The Walking Dead—and one who has increasingly been on the rise as of late, thanks to the one-two punch of 2023’s The Color Purple and Rustin (for which he received an Oscar nod), as well as his buzzy turn in A24’s Sing Sing this year—Domingo finally gets his first solo on-screen starring vehicle with this thriller. But despite the usual gravitas and magnetism that Colman displays here, The Madness can’t quite match the nuance and natural grace of its lead performer.
There are urgent and intriguingly knotty themes at play in the show, though—the mainstreaming of far-right ideology, the fight against disinformation in a post-truth age, the role of mass media in both political and public discourse—all tangling around a pulpy Pelican Brief-esque concept sure to tickle crime enthusiasts. (The eight-episode series was directed by Clement Virgo, known for his work on Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story and The Wire.)
While alone on a work sabbatical to write his great American novel in a scenic Poconos cabin, Daniels horrifyingly discovers a dead and dismembered body in an outdoor sauna shortly before two masked assailants chase him down, guns blazing, through the woodlands. Even worse, the murder victim just happens to be a prominent white supremacist operating on America’s fascist fringe. (This is not ideal for a Black man with deep activist roots and regular airtime on CNN.)
Soon, evidence begins mysteriously popping up in Daniels’ plush apartment and pricey car, essentially publicly framing him for the killing and kicking off a global conspiracy spanning politics, finance, and law enforcement. With local police unconvinced by Daniels’ claims of innocence, the journalist desperately tries to clear his name through an amateur investigation that takes him from North Philly backyard barbecues to New York private clubs and neo-Nazi gun communes, roping in his victim’s ex (played by Tamsin Topolski) and his own estranged family (portrayed by Marsha Stephanie Blake, Gabrielle Graham, and and Thaddeus J. Mixson) along the way.
The current state of the country (you know, one of democratic decline, racial and ideological divide, and general dystopian doom) gives The Madness a sharp topical edge, as Daniels quickly realizes that the everyday terrors of being Black in America exponentially heighten when you have folks in seats of power coming after you. (There’s even, fittingly, a corrupt white guy named Don involved.) But despite that ripped-from-the-headlines appeal, the show can’t shake the feeling that it’s a mere nut graf, more summary than substance.
Domingo has great presence, no doubt (in fact, the star’s ability to effortlessly pull off everything from a tailored suit to a bucket hat is actually to the story’s detriment, as it’s increasingly implausible that his character’s style would slip by without public notice), but viewers are never given a real read on his character. A late-in-the-game monologue attempts to explain Daniels’ own haunted history and motivations for justice—his madness, if you will—but it was needed about six episodes earlier. (John Ortiz as Franco Quinones, an F.B.I. agent growing ever more hopeless in the face of rampant corruption, is afforded more interiority.) Daniels’ estrangement from his immediate family and his larger community adds to that sense of remove and restraint. Horrors fall upon Daniels at a hurried clip, but without a solid sense of who he was before, it’s tough to feel the total effect of those knocks to his foundation.
The Madness might be billed as a fresh take on the conspiracy thriller, but without the full weight of that personal and political devastation, it’s simply the latest big-name entry in the genre, with all of the red herrings, undercover guises, and heart-pumping chase scenes that thrill seekers could want. Giving Colman Domingo’s caliber as an actor, that kind of spotlight is nothing to be mad at. It’s just too bad his star turn wasn’t on a better show.
The Madness premieres November 28 on Netflix