Fake ★★★★½
Paramount+
One of the best Australian dramas of the decade so far, Fake is an unflinching examination of deception’s cruel grip – whether it’s wielded by an imposter or delivered through our own flawed self-esteem. “Joe, 51, grazier” is the innocuous description on the dating app that journalist Birdie Bell (Asher Keddie) matches with, setting off a romance with Joe Burt (David Wenham) that increasingly pinballs between exhausting highs and lows. Over eight episodes it proves to be a harrowing, detailed journey.
Journalist Birdie Bell (Asher Keddie) matches with Joe Burt (David Wenham) in the eight-part thriller Fake.Credit: Paramount+
This limited series is not just a thriller. Joe’s persona is always a little forced, his excuses too numerous to avoid suspicion. Something is off, which the narrative acknowledges, but that raises a more difficult question: is Birdie fooling herself? On the cusp of 50, a failed IVF program behind her, Birdie feels the pressure to find a partner. “Be realistic about what’s still out there” urges her terrifyingly passive-aggressive mother, Margeaux (Heather Mitchell), a widow who has raised her daughter on the idea of meeting “the one”.
Fake was “inspired” by the 2019 memoir of the same name by writer Stephanie Wood, a contributor to this masthead. In adapting it, creator Anya Beyersdorf – who announces herself as a major talent – keeps the scope of the book, captures the queasy dynamics, and tackles the sharper, underlying themes. Even as Joe spins a web for Birdie, bombarding her phone and lamenting his “crazy” ex-wife, you have to question not her judgment, but her willingness to believe. Ghosted and gaslighted, she’s still too nuanced to be the mere victim.
The casting uses our shared viewing history as a weapon against us: how could the pairing of Nina from Offspring and SeaChange’s Diver Dan be a bad thing? But the performances are exceptional on their own terms. Wenham provides a chalky charm, revealing a fabulist’s harsh narcissism, while Keddie takes Birdie to the edge of a precipice. Much of the fifth episode, a masterful construction, is Birdie melting down alone in the back seat of an Uber. She grasps her phone like a lifebuoy as Joe toys with her.
There have been plenty of shows with this sham-man theme, such as Netflix’s Dirty John. What elevates this one is the thoroughness of its depiction. On an emotional level it is forensic, and the direction – set up by Emma Freeman – accentuates the acutely felt unease. When Joe laughingly demonstrates heart massage on Birdie at a dinner, the sound mix adds the sound of a defibrillator jolting someone to life. It becomes a brutal, recurring cue. Fake is one gripping shock to the system after another.
My Lady Jane ★★★
Amazon Prime
Emily Bader plays the short-lived Queen of England in My Lady Jane.Credit: Jonathan Prime/Prime Video
Told with broad, bolshie strokes – whether it’s signpost dialogue such as a mother telling a wayward daughter “you have no power”, or needle-dropping the signature riff of David Bowie’s Rebel Rebel – this alternate history gives a wild extended story to Lady Jane Grey (Emily Bader). In real life, she was a teenage queen of England for nine tumultuous days in 1553, but was then arrested and later beheaded. Here, she’s a witty, defiant heroine saving monarchs and navigating questionable but very handsome young men.