19 hours Ago By The Guardian
There is nothing very new to see in The Bondsman. How much you enjoy it will depend on how much you enjoy Kevin Bacon (laconic, hard-bitten Kevin Bacon, not Tremors Kevin Bacon and not Footloose Kevin Bacon), how much you enjoy tales of demonic possession in a small town in southern America and how much you enjoy the sound of partly severed heads, blown-out tracheas and bloodied fingers. I am seven degrees of separation from liking this last aspect.
But Bacon is Bacon, and if he is slightly sleepwalking through his role here as Hub Halloran, tracker of ne’er-do-wells with warrants against their names, well, it is hardly inappropriate given that, for most of the eight episodes, Hub is dead. He is killed by local heavies hired by Lucky Callahan (Damon Herriman – you’ll know him when you see him), the new boyfriend of Hub’s ex-wife Maryanne (Jennifer Nettles), seeking to eliminate the competition. But the devil is down in Georgia – or at least several of his minions are – and Hub is resurrected to round them up and send them back to hell.
The Pot of Gold corporation represents Satan here on Earth and Midge (Jolene Purdy) is the company’s rep. She explains to Hub and his loving mama Kitty (Beth Grant, who after a career of playing this part is at last being given a little more to do here) that this is his get-out-of-hell free card. As long as he keeps sending demons home, he will stay on Earth.
The moment he misses, back to the eternal lake of fire he goes. Kitty is bemused. What has her son done to deserve eternal damnation? Hub is damned – metaphorically speaking – if he knows, he assures her.
The viewer is not so certain. Did I mention there are posters up all around town about a woman who has gone missing? No? There are. I’m just telling you.
Apropos of absolutely nothing. Hub’s posthumous status means that he can recognise the demons who are now skin walking in li’l ol’ Landry town and dispatches at least one per episode, beginning with the possessed pastor whose crucifixes and holy water did not have the repellent effect he surely hoped. As we go along, bodies levitate, faces peel off, water burns, bodies spontaneously combust, mean teens die.
All basic demoniacal tradition is here, plus light comic touches to throw the horrors into relief (like the job manual Midge leaves with him, but which hasn’t been updated since 1973, so she advises him to go online instead). Eventually, Hub works out that there may be more to this “Just vanquish these demons-of-the-week, would ya!” story from Midge and the devil than he initially thought (why are they all descending on Landry? Why are they taking time out to sacrifice victims rather than simply skipping from host to host as he pursues them?). To thicken the plot, we also have the continuing human villainy of Lucky and his attempts to oust Hub from Maryanne’s affections and from what he still believes to be his life on Earth.
Plus, there’s the gradual entanglement of Hub’s entire family – including 15-year-old son Cade (Maxwell Jenkins) – in his attempts to clean house and keep himself out of hell. There is also a subplot that is enough to strike true fear in the heart of even the most robust horror fan: back in the day, Hub and Maryanne were a successful country singing duo. And deep down, they yearn to be so again.
She still plays at local nightclub The Boxcar. He still has videotapes of the glory days. And yes, the viewer’s heart rightly fills with terror as the suspicion rises that what drew Bacon, one half of country- and folk-rock duo The Bacon Brothers, to this project was not his love of Stephen King-inflected southern gothic, but the chance to sing and play guitar on stage.
I cannot speak to the truth of this. I can only say that it does happen and that, while death does not seem quite the preferable option, the gap between it and those others does narrow. The number of the beast is 4/4 time.
• The Bondsman is on Prime Video now..
