Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10
Cast: Tahar Rahim, Jenna Coleman, Billy Howle, Ellie Bamber, Mathilde Warnier, Gregoire Isvarine, Tim McInnerny, Amesh Edireweera, Asasiri Kulthanan, William Brand, Chotika Sintuboonkul, Kenneth Won, Fabien Frankel, Adam Rothenberg, Ilker Kaleli, Chicha Amatayakul, Ellie de Lange, Armand Rosbak, Sahajak Boonthanakit, Stacy Martin, Alice Englert.
The Devil doesn’t possess horns, appear in the guise of an otherworldly being conjured up from the images of monastic scholars and the damnation of priests, or tempt humankind into submitting to its will. The devil is our lack of empathy made corporeal, it is most basic desires of greed, ownership and control given free rein to destroy. Rather than being the beast in which associate with Hell, it is the belief that we hold power over the life all we meet here on Earth that is the true incarnation of all that is evil, all that is malevolent and criminal.
We don’t always encounter such foul immorality, occasionally we are duped and hoodwinked, hurt by lesser beings who have fallen to the temptation of unpleasant behaviour, but if we are unfortunate, if we are placed in the direct path of a deceiver, then we find we are in the fight of our lives, and perhaps for our very existence.
The murderer without cause except for the belief in greed and who feels they are superior to another human being, they are the real devils, and as the television series brought to life by the writers Richard Warlow and Toby Finlay, and directed by Tom Shankland and Hans Herbos, The Serpent, shows, in living memory, they perhaps don’t come eviller than Charles Sobhraj, and to a lesser extent his acolytes of Marie-Andrée Leclerc and Ajay Chowdhury.
In a shocking tale of greed and destruction, The Serpent is perhaps not one immediately well-known outside of many to whom backpacking on the famous hippie trail of Asia was a dream or a reality fraught with danger, especially in the mid-1970s heyday of the experience; however, it is one that chills the bones directly, that sees the evil eye under the guise of the human face, and one that doesn’t even garner any sympathy for the way that Charles Sobhraj was suspected of killing in the name of greed, in the belief that he was owed.
The filming of the serial really captured the sepia/yellowish tinge of photography that exemplified the times, giving it a fearsome, almost disease- filled look which further enhances the foul reputation that the alleged murderer has revelled in since his incarceration for the long list of murders. The series also is given polish by Jenna Coleman’s performance in the role of Marie-Andrée Leclerc, the human face of the destructive power to which Sobhraj wielded, the coaxing, the temptation which hid evil and death.
It is to Tahar Rahim as the calculating murderer, Billy Howle’s interpretation of the Dutch Embassy worker, Herman Knippenberg, who doggedly refused to let go of the investigation, and Amesh Edireweera as Ajay Chowdhury, the faithful admirer and acolyte of Sobharj, to whom the tale of duplicity and fear is completed.
In a time of constant surveillance, of scrutiny and digital authority, it is hard to believe that such a person could have maintained such an elusive and fearsome presence, but the past is not just another country, but a place where evil was seen to have compelling charm, enough to keep their true nature and desire hidden. It is this reminder that we must always be wary of those we meet with superficial charisma, for the devil wears temptation as easily as the sunglasses to hide their eyes.
Ian D. Hall