I was surprised to learn this week that Harlan Coben, the literary supervillain behind steaming piles of straight-to-streaming schlock like Fool Me Once and Run Away, is actually American. His books are set on US soil, at least, but for some reason their enormously successful TV adaptations have been almost universally set in Britain, take place in suburban abodes with a touch of Privet Drive, and are seemingly cast by the same person who runs the Love of Huns Instagram account (Michelle Keegan as a traumatised fighter pilot? Why not).
They also just feel British. And by that I mean atrocious, like something that would once have been tossed onto Channel 5’s afternoon schedules to appease the senile, but now dominate the Netflix top 10 for seemingly six months out of every year. Remember when everything on TV wasn’t so irredeemably stupid?
