Based on a 2021 novel by Catherine Ryan Howard, “56 Days,” which premieres Wednesday on Prime Video, is billed as an “erotic thriller,” meaning that from time to time, or at least until the main characters are too distracted by the thriller part, the action will pause for a sex scene in a car, an alley or even a bed; They are relatively concise and more suggestive than explicit, with just a bit of nudity. Sorry, if that's what you expected.
We open in the present, where we encounter a decomposed body in a fancy bathtub, before flashing back to “Day 1,” when Oliver (Avan Jogia) and Ciara (Dove Cameron) meet at a grocery store. From the beginning we feel that this is not accidental, but it is not clear who is organizing it. They engage in tense banter that, as far as I can tell, reflects the way their generation talks when flirting with cucumbers, but it also sounds like bad writing and acts like bad acting, but it could mean a sign that something is a little off after all. We will soon learn that neither of them is who they say they are, and that Oliver, at least, is hiding from a dark past, although he is practically hiding in plain sight.
They are modeled as attractive opposites. He works in an architecture studio, not as an architect. She tells him she works in IT. He lives in a company-owned apartment full of dark, polished surfaces and bad modern art; He lives in a run-down apartment furnished with termites. He has a sleep disorder that he tries to control with yoga, meditation and prescription medications. He has a Future Farmers of America sweatshirt. He has a beard and is muscular; She is a porcelain doll with Wednesday Addams hair and skin. She is the coolest customer; it gets hot. He may be paranoid, but she snoops around a lot. He smells like money and she has a family whose house is about to be repossessed. They agree that kombucha tastes bad and is too expensive, and they seem to share an interest in space travel, although we also see that she has studied the subject a bit.
Meanwhile, in scenes called “Today,” Detectives Lee (Karla Souza) and Karl (Dorian Missick) are investigating the body in the bathtub, so decomposed by whatever the killer put in the water that it can't be quickly identified as male or female, but we know from cross-sections that the bathtub is in Oliver's apartment.
There's nothing new about a story that takes place in dual timelines, in which the past finally catches up with the present, although “56 Days,” developed by Lisa Zwerling (“ER”) and Karyn Usher (“Prison Break”), leans heavily on it, with titles that represent whatever day we've reached. It's not a bad conceit: the viewer plays detective in the past scenes, and the detectives clean up the mess left by the previous scenes (I haven't read the book, but I can tell from the ads and Goodreads reviews that the plot of the series differs substantially from the novel and contains a lot of additional business; like many shows of its kind in the eight-hour streaming ecosystem, it's a bit overstuffed).
The past and present essentially form two discrete stories, different in tone, dialogue, camerawork, and acting styles; They could belong to two completely different series. Some supporting characters from past scenes carry over to the present: Also in the mix are Oliver's psychiatrist (Patch Darragh), who we should consider potentially unstable, a freelance journalist (Kira Guloien), who really needs that story, Ciara's smoking, unkempt-haired sister (Megan Peta Hill), and Oliver's nice boss (Alfredo Narciso), who knows his secrets. But Oliver and Ciara never meet Lee and Karl.
I guess “erotic” will attract more attention than “thriller”; Thrillers are a dime a dozen novels these days, and are more often than not described as “gritty,” which, rotten body aside, they are not, and even that is more gooey than gritty. The camera takes the time to adore the young protagonists, to admire their excellent surfaces, to look directly into their brooding, brooding, serious eyes. Still, this aspect of “56 Days” can come off as silly, as is often the case when “erotic” enters the equation, leading to a line like: “We can sip our drink and pretend to be interested in whatever we're talking about, but we're not actually going to be listening, are we?” One scene, involving giant fans, recreates Leo and Kate on the bow of the Titanic.
It's not a bad show at all, but what kept it afloat for me were the detectives as they went about the familiar task of reviewing crime scenes, dry and funny, “Dragnet,” proposing theories (many of which we know are wrong) and interviewing people of interest. (“Can you get a court order so we can go eat?” is the kind of thing they say.) Each has been assigned extraneous dramatic issues, perhaps to balance the scales with Oliver and Ciara, and to underscore that this is a show about two sets of couples, their trust issues and their need for each other. Or maybe to fill time. But the actors handle it skillfully.
With her hair in a practical bun, Souza (“Home Economics,” “How to Get Away With Murder”) is especially good, doing a lot doing a little, real in a way that not every character here gets to be, and Missick accompanies her perfectly. It's not the first time in my TV-watching career that I wished the detectives from a limited series could be transferred to a show of their own.
