‘The Madness’ Is Middling… But Colman Domingo Rules As Usual

By Jonathon Wilson - November 28, 2024
The Madness Key Art
The Madness Key Art | Image via Netflix
By Jonathon Wilson - November 28, 2024
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Summary

The Madness is a middling political thriller but it’s elevated by a dynamite performance from Colman Domingo.

You can tell that The Madness would like to be described as “timely”, “biting”, or any number of other adjectives one would typically throw at a political thriller. But none of them apply. Netflix’s eight-part limited series has the politics of your average X thread, especially when it descends into conspiracy. But it also has Colman Domingo in the lead role, which has to count for something.

You’re best off trying to take the politics out of it. You can’t, really, for reasons that’ll become clear in a minute, but it’s a fun thought exercise because what you’re left with is a pretty propulsive man-on-the-run thriller that seems geared around letting Domingo look, sound, and act as cool as possible. And that’s fine with me.

Domingo’s playing Muncie Daniels, an activist-turned-progressive pundit whose career is on the rise even if his personal life – he’s going through a divorce from his wife Elena (Marsha Stephanie Blake) and is largely estranged from his daughter Kallie (Gabrielle Graham) – has paid the price. His agent Kwesi (Deon Cole) is more supportive of one than the other, and you can guess which, but Muncie is excited by the prospect of hitting the big time and retires to a cabin in the Poconos to work on his book in seclusion.

But seclusion is the last thing he finds there. In a flurry of developments, Muncie heads next door to ask his neighbor if he can help with a power outage and finds him being dismembered by two men who subsequently turn on Muncie. After a chase, a stabbing in self-defense – the opening scenes establish Muncie as a fit runner and capable Brazilian jiu-jitsu practitioner; it’s like Rebel Ridge all over again – and a brief chat with the cops, Muncie finds himself on the run. His neighbor was a well-known white supremacist influencer and, as an outspoken Black political pundit, his death is being hung on Muncie.

Colman Domingo in The Madness

Colman Domingo in The Madness | Image via Netflix

With his back against the wall, Muncie has to navigate a melange of American agencies and fringe political extremist groups while conducting a fairly straightforward investigation to figure out what’s going on and how to get out of it in one piece. It’s simple A-to-B storytelling that’s elevated by Domingo’s effortless sense of cool but hamstrung by a muddled approach to its politics and the relationship between political “influencing”, mainstream media, and contemporary culture.

It’s a testament to how good Colman Domingo is that anyone might care at all. He’s supposed to be playing a new kind of nuanced hero with strong opinions about all kinds of things and a relatively everyday background in teaching and community activism, but it’s hilarious how quickly he morphs into a straight-up action hero and impressive how capably Domingo sells it.

But there’s more to this. The Madness is a star vehicle, for sure, but it’s treated like one on every level, which I’d like to see happen more often. Domingo is framed and directed like he’s the coolest man in the room at all times, and that’s what he becomes. You can make the argument that he’d probably be that in most rooms anyway, but it’s beside the point; this is how you leverage your star’s talents and whatever else might be said about this show that should be part of the account.

Maybe I’m harping on about this because there isn’t much else to say. The Madness is a middling thriller with rudimentary plotting that gets quickly bogged down in mealy-mouthed conspiracism without a clear viewpoint on half of the subjects it’s trying to tackle. And that’s a shame, but I don’t think it’ll necessarily hurt the show’s binge-watch potential, which these days is really all that matters.

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