Any show with “Run” as its title surely ought to bolt out of the gates and fang it hell-for-leather – barely stopping to catch its breath, proverbial sirens wailing. So it was a touch disappointing to discover that this new six-part series about notorious bank robber Brenden Abbott (George Mason) takes a while to find its rhythm, jumping around in time and stop-starting when it could’ve been charging ahead. Non-linear structures can be invigoratingly unconventional but in Run it often stalls momentum and feels too clever by half.
Abbott escaped from Fremantle prison in 1989 and remained at large for several years, during which he robbed many banks. The first episode ends with a smartly staged, well-paced depiction of that escape, with Abbott and fellow escaper Reynolds (Oscar Redding) dressing up in fake uniforms made in the prison workshop.
This burst of suspenseful, well-sustained action could have been a good way to begin the show but instead the writers (Matt Cameron, Anthony Hayes, Sarah Walker and Scout Cripps) start with a quiet prison visit scene between Abbott and his girlfriend Jackie (Ashleigh Cummings). This is followed by more calamitous moments: a prison riot and then, jumping back a year, a bank robbery, involving Abbott and an accomplice hiding in the ceiling until the bank opened. These moments flash by like claps of thunder, while the prison escape is a more carefully developed and rhythmic set-piece.
We meet various side characters including Abbott’s brother, Glenn (David Howell), and mother, Thelma, who is played by Robyn Malcolm – an actor (recently in Mystery Road: Origin season two and After the Party) who never fails to ramp up any production’s emotional heft and gravitas. Here she brings Jacki-Weaver-in-Animal-Kingdom vibes, with some very bloody ‘strayan lines, such as “That girl’s still got ‘im by the short and curlies!”
Everything is decently staged but the dipsy-doodling structure provides an erratic rhythm the show never quite shrugs off. Of the five episodes I’ve seen so far, I enjoyed the second the most, with Abbott on the run with Reynolds, who is rougher and more volatile: a combustible presence who could explode at any moment. You can feel the performances starting to sizzle and the show’s blood pumping, though things inevitably slow down again, undercutting the momentum.
There is a sense Abbott is all past and no future: a man whose life is characterised by constant movement, always leaving and never really arriving, with no emotional or locational centre. The protagonist is no saint and nor is he flagged as someone deserving sympathy. Mason gives Abbott a tough, flinty charisma with a hint of bad-boy flair. He’s clever but no genius; wily and street-smart rather than brilliant and meticulous. Abbott isn’t a complex character but he has layers, and Mason provides the right amount of depth.
Another aspect of the drama involves the police attempting to track down Abbott, which must have been epically frustrating for the fuzz. It’s a potential source of great dramatic tension – but there is rarely a strong sense that the stakes are rising. It might have been more exciting had the police characters been more engaging; instead they’re thinly drawn characters on the narrative’s periphery. Keiynan Lonsdale delivers an enjoyable performance as detective Gary Porter, the man most determined to bring Abbott in, but his character gets short shrift, popping up here and there and lacking a compelling arc. The show’s key art – an image vertically split down the middle, featuring a composite face of Mason and Lonsdale – feels misleading, implying their characters are given equal weight in the narrative. In fact, this is Abbott’s story through and through.
Run’s lurching rhythm and erratic pacing could most charitably be read as a reflection of the protagonist’s discombobulating circumstances. But the tension often dissipates just as it should be tightening, and structurally the show feels a little unfocused – like a chase that keeps losing the scent.
Run is available to watch on Binge now
