Benedict Cumberbatch Is Both Puppet and Puppeteer in Netflix's Eric

Traditional law enforcement partners or unorthodox private investigator team-ups (or a mix of the two) are a beloved TV staple, regardless of whether the detective story is based on a real-life case or even in a supernatural setting. Given the popularity of this genre and the ubiquity of these types of stories, adding a new spin to the favored format is tricky. Fortunately, Eric creator Abi Morgan defies this challenge, offering a fresh perspective beyond the missing child case at its center. While the depiction of 1980s New York may not break the mold in its portrayal of a city in disarray, the approach to the overlapping conflicts and the exploration of mental health sets this series apart — even when it overstuffs the narrative.

Eric opens with a familiar press conference tableau, immediately setting an authentic tone via the TV news report. It has been over 48 hours since nine-year-old Edgar Anderson (Ivan Howe) went missing, and his father, Vincent (Benedict Cumberbatch), implores his son to come. Picking apart every gesture in these public pleas is expected, and there is something off about Vincent’s choice of words that could be a red flag or a red herring. Nothing is quite as it seems, and the grimy retro realism will soon have a dollop of make-believe thrown into the mix when Vincent’s work life bleeds into this desperate hunt for Edgar.

Considering Cumberbatch has played the world’s most famous fictional detective, it is hardly surprising that he has mostly avoided crime dramas post-Sherlock. While Vincent shares abrasive and self-medicating attributes with Sherlock Holmes, the Emmy-winning actor is not retreading old ground. Vincent is the creator and lead puppeteer of a once-hugely popular children’s TV show, Good Day Sunshine. Running for a decade, it has all the hallmarks of Sesame Street down to the catchy theme song but requires a refresh. Morgan has previously taken on the world of television in the canceled-too-soon The Hour, telling the story of a weekly news show in the 1950s and ‘60s. Here, she proves she is equally adept at taking on kids' TV and the politics and personalities that inhabit this studio.

Vincent’s combative tone with his co-workers even before Edgar’s disappearance is at odds with the kids' TV visuals, highlighting an arrogant streak that plays into the kind of difficult-man showrunner archetype. Cumberbatch excels at playing Vincent’s unpleasant and self-loathing edges, which grow coarser in the days after Edgar goes missing and sobriety takes a backseat. What follows is a journey into the abyss, where the meaning of the word monster takes on a literal form. Rather than letting the audience draw a line between the central metaphor and the story unfolding, there are a few scenes (like the pitch meeting) that negate the more subtle motifs.

The titular Eric is a seven-foot, furry, blue-and-light-gray puppet designed by Edgar, and Vincent thinks that if he can get Eric on the show, his son will return home. Eric doesn’t just exist in drawings and a puppet suit; he becomes an investigative partner for Vincent, allowing Cumberbatch to flex gruff vocals and show his range. It is a device that isn’t overused, adding a jolt of humor and another disturbing layer to what could be a familiar crime drama as Vincent’s delusions intensify. You don’t know when the blue monster will appear or what part of Eric’s body you will see. A hearty dollop of magical thinking in an otherwise realistic depiction avoids being too distracting or stylized because of its sparing use. Plus, the practical effects of the puppet — whether the real or imagined version — further blur the lines between reality and fantasy.

Humming along in the background is a city coming apart at the seams with trash building up on the streets, accusations of racism leveled at the NYPD, and political candidates proposing to bus the unhoused out of Manhattan as a way to “solve” this problem. What is going on under the city is equally important. Running parallel to Vincent’s personal and professional crises is Detective Michael Ledroit (McKinley Belcher III), who is leading the missing persons' investigation. Ledroit’s approach is, unsurprisingly, far more conventional than Vincent’s attempts to find Edgar. The series digs into the conflicts a Black officer undergoes in a precinct rife with corruption and systemic racism.

Belcher excels at portraying Ledroit’s restrained discomfort in various situations. Hiding his sexuality from his homophobic coworkers adds to Ledroit’s buttoned-up presentation as he navigates multiple worlds. How far he is willing to push his investigation into activities at one nightclub and his connection to the owner adds another layer of conflict in this sometimes overstuffed series. Given the timeframe, it would be noticeable if the AIDS epidemic was absent, but Eric struggles with including too many social and political stories, which can come across as throwing everything at the wall and having only some of it stick.

One area Morgan shades further is the combative central marriage between Vincent and Cassie (Gaby Hoffmann), which gives both Cumberbatch and Hoffmann plenty to sink their teeth into. Guilt emanates from both parents, but it is through Cassie’s conversations with another mother Cecile (Adepero Oduye), whose son is also missing, that this goes deeper. Thankfully, Cecile isn’t just there as a prop in the missing white child’s story, nor is she a device to make Cassie feel less alone.

Eric crisscrosses worst-case scenarios come to life with overt metaphors in this compelling portrayal of 1980s New York. It’s set in a time of latchkey kids, but the media doesn’t hold back on assigning blame, and all of these ingredients contribute to its potent mix. Monsters and investigators in crime dramas take on different forms. Morgan ensures it isn’t always obvious who falls into what camp or who is pulling whose strings, with Cumberbatch nailing both puppet and puppeteer.

Eric is now streaming on Netflix. Join the discussion about the show in our forums.

Emma Fraser has wanted to write about TV since she first watched My So-Called Life in the mid-90s, finally getting her wish over a decade later. Follow her on Twitter at @frazbelina.