picturemma Averill (Vicki McClure) has it all. She is married with two children and is a caring and talented family lawyer. Her company’s conference room overlooks St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, but after another fulfilling and lucrative day, her BMW arrives in time for a bedtime story with her son. Then, it hurtles past the house at such a speed that it starts crunching down the gravel driveway of a large country house. When she and her ruggedly bearded husband Rob (Tom Cullen) invite her urbane friends over for a relaxing weekend lunch, the chili she whips up in their huge kitchen is divine. It was something. Served on a palatial wooden dining table crafted by Rob’s own strong hands.
But Emma is the star of the British psychological thriller, which previously aired two breathless midweek episodes on ITV and is now airing six slightly more bombastic episodes on Paramount+. So Insomnia, by Sarah Pinborough, based on her own novel, tells Emma: It would be a shame if something absolutely terrible happened.
The first cracks to appear are common. Emma’s daughter is old enough to be interested in sex and marijuana but not smart enough to enjoy it responsibly, her young son draws strange pictures, a lawsuit at work is working against her, and her troublesome sister Phoebe (Leanne) Best) shows up out of nowhere, and worst of all, next week is her 40th birthday.
But this milestone number isn’t just an ugly one. When Emma and Phoebe’s mother turned 40, her mental health issues worsened and the girls were placed into care. Now Emma is having trouble sleeping, having visions of her mother’s disturbing nocturnal behaviour. News that her mother has been transferred from a secure facility to a hospital where she is on her deathbed exacerbates Emma’s own instability. While she sleeps, she begins to frantically light candles, heat the bath, rattle door handles and talk to the insides of cupboards, just as her mother once did. She wakes up to find herself knee-deep in the garden pond and realises something is up. Could she be the bearer of an inherited curse?
Beyond the fear of growing old and the eternal horror of parenthood, Insomnia turns its bloodshot gaze to family secrets and the passing of trauma from generation to generation. But really, we’re just waiting for the pot to boil, which has barely begun by the end of the introductory double feature. Eeriness like the eerie silence of the Averill house at night and the rose ring in the orphanage flashback are well-conceived but can only take us so far. There’s a woman who does very strange things in the middle of the night, and Insomnia’s characterizations and subplots aren’t compelling enough to stop us tapping our fingers and asking why.
Getting there means navigating one of those stories that rely on repressed memories that bubble to the surface when dramatically convenient. If everyone could remember everything now, it would save us a few hours of viewing time and we wouldn’t have to stare at Vicky McClure in agony in her sweat-soaked silk pajamas. Insomnia is haunted by the doom that looms in every psychological thriller. Viewers might be better off waiting for episode six to finish and watching the last 30 minutes to find the answer, like a bored reader turning the last few pages. The ending that awaits them will have half the audience saying, “Oh, deep,” and the other half saying, “Ah, come on.” There are some gubbins in particular, including long strings of random numbers, that require a tolerance for tenuous confusion to make sense of. They get dangerously high.
Still, Insomnia rewards those who refrain from hitting the skip button. The sections where the tension mounts and everyone starts having sex or killing each other give the show a pleasantly engrossing quality by not rushing it: Episode 4 is spent almost entirely sitting around drinking wine and doing drugs. It is made up of people who ingest it, and it also includes abuse. Prescription Drugs is a brave and honest portrayal of how people with money react to stressful events. The fractious dynamic between McClure and Best as unequal and mutually resentful brothers – one a golden child growing up to be a responsible adult, the other a hapless but free rough-and-tumble rebel – is convincing. He is given time to become powerful. The final episode’s jamboree of drugging, stabbings, and beatings is as satisfying as it is inevitable.
There’s also a twist at the end, a magician’s flourish that lingers in your memory long enough to conclude how pointless it all is. Emma has been through hell, but you’ll have forgotten about her before her head hits her pillow.
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