A male friend recently attended a Lily Allen show, and shakily described the experience to me. “I felt like a vegetarian fox at an armed chicken convention,” he said. An overwhelmingly female crowd were experiencing powerful catharsis, united in their anger at men and joy of bangers. I told him chickens couldn’t handle firearms, but I don’t think he heard me. He had tinnitus from the screaming.
There isn’t much screaming in Furious, Disney+’s new detective series (from Monday, 27 July). Also missing are the standard tropes of murder dramas: mutilated female bodies, an absence of women’s agency generally. Furious is the cat and mouse story between junior FBI agent Alice Black (Emmy Rossum) and Catherine (Lola Petticrew), a serial killer who is bumping off male victims with calculated sadism. Catherine might be the least serial killer name imaginable, but that’s just one way this show rewrites the rule book. I’d say it’s the most feminist show I’ve ever seen – except that might lead some to write it off.
