‘By the way, my name is Max. I take care of them, which ain’t easy, because their hobby is murder.’ Back in the early 1980s, when everything was lovelier, we were all so innocent that our idea of a brilliant and original new detective formula went like this: they’re sleuths — but they’re also rich and married! (Or, in the case of Magnum: he’s a sleuth — but he has a moustache and he lives on Hawaii! Or, with Bergerac: he’s a sleuth —but he lives on Jersey and is named after a region of France. Etc.)
These days, we are a lot more jaded and knowing and series creators have to work harder when devising their high-concept set-ups. The premise of Prodigal Son, for example, is that one half of the crime-battling duo is Malcolm Bright (Tom Payne), a semi-deranged prescription drug addict working for the New York Police Department while the other is his dad Martin (Michael Sheen), a behind-bars serial killer who used his surgical skills to inflict especially excruciating deaths on his victims.
Prodigal Son is perfectly aware of how ludicrous it is and doesn’t take itself very seriously
Before watching it, I outlined the premise to Boy, and he instantly reeled off all the influences — from Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal and Dexter to House — and described in some detail how it would work out.

Get Britain's best politics newsletters
Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in