DCI Daniel Hegarty, played by Peter Capaldi, returns to navigate London's dark streets, where systemic corruption permeates the police force and the city itself.
The new Spanish language series Dear Killer Nannies manages to find a new and unexpected way into the life of an archetypal villain, focusing very little on the bloodshed that has made his life so ripe for movies and television.
I've never really done any kind of long-form television and that was very challenging, actually. I learned a lot. It was a difficult thing to do. We shot during the pandemic in Italy. The whole world was shutting down. I was playing a very isolated character. And it's quite unusual for a television program to have one character.
I feel immense pride as a Korean film-maker that the audience wants more from this Korean story and our Korean characters. There's so much more to this world we have built and I'm excited to show you. This is only the beginning.
According to a Netflix synopsis, the celebrity VIPs will be "raising the stakes in a brand new game" that will "put their wit, strategy, and skillset to the ultimate test." For now, it's unclear if 456 non-famous people will still be involved in some sort of VIP-versus-player setup.
The teaser trailers reveal a young couple, played by Charles Melton and Cailee Spaeny, who both work at a country club. The two accidentally witness a physical fight between their boss and his wife (Oscar Isaac and Carrie Mulligan). Mulligan throws and breaks something fragile, and Isaac yells "Stop! Stop it!" while brandishing a golf club at her.
Through favors and coercion, both couples vie for the approval of the elitist club's billionaire owner, Chairwoman Park (Youn Yuh-jung), who struggles to manage her own scandal involving her second husband, Doctor Kim (Song Kang-ho).
The golf, the courts, the exclusivity, the discretion. People need a place where they can feel safe, where they can pretend everything is okay. It's the land of make-believe. This opening statement establishes the country club as a sanctuary where members escape reality and maintain carefully constructed personas, setting up the central tension of the season.
To everything, there is a season, and for a long time in television history, every show had its own season. Some were fall shows, some were spring shows, and either way, you could count on a brand-new batch of episodes every year. But with the larger budgets and production values of streaming, years between seasons (and no particular rhythm to their releases) has become the norm.