Josh Hartnett is having something of a moment these days. Back in the public eye thanks to roles in movies like Oppenheimer and a particularly disturbing turn on a darker-than-average episode (“Beyond the Sea”) of Black Mirror, he’s making the most of this career renaissance. Now his new drama Below is dominating the Netflix streaming charts, thanks to its atmospheric (and spooky season-appropriate) troubled small-town vibes, and the fact that hit series Widows’ Bay has made creepy maritime horror a thing again.
But while Below’s brisk pace makes for an easy and satisfying binge, those who really want to see Hartnett’s range as an actor need to make time for one of his earlier (and least well-known) roles: Penny Dreadful’s Ethan Chandler.
An indulgent, atmospheric Gothic horror series that was never afraid to swing for the fences, Penny Dreadful premiered in 2014 and ran for three seasons on Showtime before suddenly and very purposefully concluding its story on its own terms. Translation: It shock-dropped a finale episode that no one saw coming at the time. And while it never really received the widespread acclaim it deserved while airing, the show has become something of a cult classic in the years since its finale in 2016, but it’s still wildly underrated considering how good it is. And with shows like Below and Widow’s Bay making waves (both literally and figuratively speaking), it’s past time to give this excellent drama another look. And Hartnett’s performance is a big part of the reason why.
Four franchises, four completely different ways of getting underneath your skin. This is the one built out of your particular fear, why it works so well on you, and what it would leave behind.
Your nightmare does not wait outside the door. It waits for you to close your eyes, which you are going to have to do eventually, because nobody has ever won that particular argument.
Your nightmare is not really the doll. It is the face of the person you tell, and the way they decide, very kindly, that you have imagined all of it.
Your nightmare has your number, knows your name, and has almost certainly been inside your house before. The worst part is that you already know them.
Your nightmare is not really about you. It is about the people asleep down the hall, and the feeling that whatever is here is not interested in leaving.
Penny Dreadful features an absolutely stacked cast of talented performers, from Eva Green’s blockbuster turn as a tortured clairvoyant constantly battling her own internal darkness to Billie Piper’s fascinating and furious take on a version of the Bride of Frankenstein, who’s fully in charge of her own power. Next to such showcase roles, Hartnett’s turn as Ethan, an American sharpshooter with a dark past of his own, can feel a bit understated. But this performance is not just some of the best work of his career; it’s also the show’s quiet heart.
Mysterious, charming, sexy, and occasionally sinister by turns, Hartnett’s Ethan is initially introduced as he joins forces with the aforementioned clairvoyant Vanessa Ives (Green) and retired explorer Sir Malcolm Murray (Timothy Dalton) to track a dangerous creature and a missing girl. At first glance, the character seems as though he will be little more than a cliché American cowboy, a stereotype that will undoubtedly end up as the butt of many jokes. But that’s not at all what happens.
Ethan’s story ultimately evolves into something much creepier and more complicated, a reinterpretation of the Wolf Man that goes beyond a simple monster movie trope, incorporating everything from Native American history to Jack the Ripper lore. (And while the show doesn’t explicitly reference it, the jokes about An American Werewolf in London basically write themselves.)
A figure of quiet intensity despite his over-the-top public persona, it’s obvious from fairly early on in the show’s run that there’s more to Ethan than meets the eye. Underneath all the gunslinging confidence and swaggering bravado is a man full of genuine suffering, plagued by the curse he carries and the endless guilt that comes along with it. Or, as he puts it: “There are such sins at my back it would kill me to turn around.”
Unlike some of the other things that go bump in the night which inhabit this fictional universe, Ethan has little control over his violent nature. Also, unlike many of the others, he feels deep remorse and guilt over what he has done (or, perhaps more correctly, over the people he failed to save). And who doesn’t love a tortured hero — or at least a tortured antihero who wishes he was something different? Plus, he’s surprisingly romantic, a trait which allows Hartnett to put his years as a heartthrob-style leading man to excellent and swoon-worthy use.
His tragic relationship with the consumptive (read: doomed) Brona (Piper) is genuinely moving, but it's Ethan's star-crossed romance with Vanessa that powers much of the series' three seasons. The pair’s profound connection, born of a shared understanding of isolation and inner darkness, is rich and moving, and they’re as compelling when they’re flirting as they are when one is begging the other to kill them. Though — like so much else in this story — these two are obviously not destined for a happy ending, their ability to accept (and, eventually, love) the absolute worst parts of each other is why they’re so easy to root for.
Yes, Penny Dreadful is dark and genuinely disturbing in places. But it’s also deeply romantic and emotionally moving, representing exactly the sort of moody richness we need more of on our TVs right now, not less. There's never been a better time to step into its satisfying darkness.
