Just in time for a Halloween scare comes Season 3 of “Black Mirror,” released by Netflix on Oct. 21. “Black Mirror” is a British anthology series created by Charlie Brooker. While each episode stands alone, they are connected by the theme of paranoia and unease related to technology that seems to be only moments away from reality. The ominous title refers to how screens look when they are inactive, becoming black mirrors to reflect difficult and sometimes even horrifying truths about the world that humanity and technology will soon inherit.

After a three-year gap, the six new episodes prove that while the initial shock of the first two seasons has worn off, Booker has not lost his genius ability to envision multiple fascinating scenarios in which dreams turn to nightmares, and technological progress turns on itself to hinder society, morality and humanity itself. Each episode handles the sometimes absurd plots with a seriousness that makes the “anything can (and often does) happen” dystopia of “Black Mirror” even more alluring for those willing to suspend their
disbelief and go with it. The stark fact that each tale features technology close enough to reality for the
audience to envision makes the message even more
unnerving, triggering fears of anything with an electrical plug or battery.

The debate over a proper ranking of the episodes is all over the place — nobody can agree on a favorite because each episode has an entirely different cast, genre, tone, plot and setting. “Nosedive” is about a society where everyone has a public ranking, based on five-star ratings given to one another in social interactions and on social media. These rankings affect social standing, access to services such as renting an apartment or booking a flight, and the self-esteem of individuals being ranked. During the internet outage on the East Coast of the United States on Friday, ironically the day this season was released, “Black Mirror” referred to this episode posting to their Twitter page that “Twitter is no longer available to users below a five-star rating. We apologize for the inconvenience.” “Nosedive” might not be the most innovative social satire of the show, but it strikes a chord and watching Bryce Dallas Howard (“Jurassic World”) descend into insecurity-driven desperation resonates with the viewer.

“Playtest” is an occasionally humorous homage to the horror genre about a traveler who volunteers to test a new virtual reality gaming system with a nightmarish and ultimately heartbreaking conclusion. With the recent release of the Playstation VR Headset and the existence 360 degree videos,  the nearness of the type of immersive horror experienced by Cooper (Wyatt Russell, “Everybody Wants Some”) seems to be just on the horizon in the future of gaming. Directed by Dan Trachtenberg (“10 Cloverfield Lane”), the core tenants of the horror genre are on full display, along with a timely warning of the danger of ceding control of your senses to the gaming industry.

“Shut Up and Dance” tells the panicked tale of a teenager held hostage by hackers after they access his laptop webcam to obtain footage of him pleasuring himself to images on the internet and threaten to send it to all his contacts unless he obeys their commands. Forced to work with others being similarly blackmailed into executing an increasingly complicated series of tasks, Kenny (Alex Lawther, “The Imitation Game”) meets Jerome Flynn (“Game of Thrones”), a man who tried to solicit a prostitute and is concerned his wife will divorce him and take his children if the hackers release the proof. The ending features the very type of stunning, heartbreaking plot twist that “Black Mirror” is known for, leaving the viewer almost too traumatized to keep watching. Ultimately, the episode forces the viewer to question their sympathies and moral beliefs. As Flynn says, “There is no cure for the internet,” as it is used to further base desires when utilized as an extension of humanities’ more villainous selves.

After the dark intensity of the first three episodes, many critics and viewers have agreed that “San Junipero” is their favorite episode of the season given the lessening of the heavy-handed self-righteousness the show often invokes. San Junipero is a seaside town that stays consistent throughout time, treating viewers to the changing fashions and technology from the 70’s to modern day and into the future. The beautiful and moving story follows the romance between the awkward Yorkie (Mackenzie Davis, “The F Word”) and vivacious Kelly (Gugu Mbatha-Raw, “Doctor Who”) as they meet in the town in different decades, always “one week later.” While the technology-related twist involves a group often ignored, the elderly, the final scene leaves the viewer wondering about the possibility of virtual life beyond death. While the focus of this episode is on the essential human experience of love, the resulting tears are from a lighter emotion and relief at finally getting a happier ending.

“Men Against Fire” is the most political episode of the season and illustrates a frightening future of technology related to military violence. Stripe (Malachi Kirby, “Doctor Who”) is a soldier fighting “roaches,” mutant humans who the soldiers are itching to kill. MASS is a computer eye implant that allows soldiers access to maps and weapons-targeting, and it enhances the skills necessary for military combat. Soldiers are rewarded for war efforts with seductive dreams during their sleep via fantasies which seem pleasing until compared to a stark reality portrayed by the difficult-to-watch final scene. Michael Kelly (“House of Cards”) is perfectly cast as the brutal, cold-hearted head of the program, and the tension of the xenophobia-fueled genocide, remarkably similar to conflicts in the world today, is spooky.

The final episode, “Hated by the Nation,” is a police procedural drama tackling the continuous theme of online shaming. In a society where bees have become extinct, replaced by Artificial Drone Insects fulfilling the same role bees used to, celebrities who have come under fire online begin mysteriously dying. Every 24 hours someone is killing the person most hashtagged with #DeathTo, and in trying to apprehend the culprit, the investigating parties inadvertently set off a brilliant, terrifying twist which highlights the consequences of what individuals say and do on the internet.

While much of the show seems to be a warning, Brooker, in an interview with The A.V. Club, says this is not the case. He is a user of technology himself and says that, “because we have that acceptance of technology as being a miracle worker, it means that it takes the place of the supernatural in our stories.” “Black Mirror” seasons one through three are also available on Netflix.

One characteristic that Ron Swanson, the beloved mustachioed character from NBC’s sitcom “Parks and Recreation,” shares with the actor who portrays him, Nick Offerman, is a sincere love of woodworking. “Good Clean Fun: Misadventures in Sawdust at the Offerman Woodshop” is a 344-page love letter to the art of woodworking and the people who admire and engage
in the craft.

The book features how-to, mirth, fashion tips, recipes, odes to wood and assorted tomfoolery as advertised on the cover, all while retaining the light-hearted tone established by the lyrics to a song, “it’s good, it’s clean, it’s good clean fun.”

“I’m no wood scientist,” writes Offerman in a section titled “On Wood,” “but I thought I would take a moment to talk about this bewitching material itself. After all, it’s the very reason we’re all here on this page today.”

This homage to the substance itself ranges from poetic to scientific while maintaining the sort of humor one brings to a topic they know and love well.

“Good Clean Fun” also provides much insight into the woodworking that happens at the Offerman Woodshop, a shop that Offerman runs in L.A. The Offerman Woodshop produces fine, handcrafted furniture and other fun items such as ukuleles and moustache combs.

Offerman and his “rag-tag crew of champions” describe their experiences and passion and provide detailed “how-to” instructions for everyone from novices, seeking to start their woodworking endeavors with a pencil holder or coaster, to more advanced artisans, seeking to create a berry stool, slingshot dining chair or even a slumber jack bed.

Interspersed amongst the clever and often hilarious people introducing and taking the reader through the process of making a kazoo or beaver tail paddle are comedic interludes, such as a comic strip illustrating “The Best Way to Fell a Tree.”

Accompanying each page are visually stunning photographs and graphics along with informative figures for the more technical parts of the book. As promised, a section titled “Cookout” features recipes for the essential meats, such as burgers, pork chops, steak, and sides, such as spanakopita and mashed potatoes, drinks or “solemn oath brewery selects” for those interested in pairing beer with their meals, and blueberry pie for dessert.

Indeed, as the final page, featuring “Essay On Wood” by James Richardson, says, “I wonder if something in us is made of wood, maybe not quite the heart, knocking softly/or maybe not made of it, but made for its call … It will sit with us, eat with us, lie down/and hold our books (themselves a rustling woods).” “Good Clean Fun” is itself a rustling woods, paying respects to a craft well-loved by those who are made of, or made for, the call of wood.

“Good Clean Fun” is Offerman’s third book after the bestselling “Paddle Your Own Canoe: One Man’s Fundamentals for Delicious Living” and “Gumption: Relighting the Torch of Freedom with America’s Gutsiest Troublemakers.”  “Good Clean Fun” was released on Oct. 18 from Dutton. On Oct. 19, Tech hosted “An Evening by Nick Offerman” at the Ferst Center for
the Arts.

From director and writer David Burkman comes “Haze,” a film that provides a dark view into the hazing process experienced by pledges to fraternities and sororities on college campuses. The story follows Nick (Kirk Curran, “Lily Déjà Vu”), a freshman who decides to join a fraternity. He must contend with his brother Pete’s (Mike Blejer, “Jay Dates”) mission to bring awareness to the brutality of hazing rituals which resulted in the death of a pledge.

The film cleverly frames the narrative about Greek life using ancient Greek mythology, explicitly including the highly fitting story of Dionysus, the god of wine, revelry and ecstasy, and implicitly using the tale of Narcissus and Echo.

It uses these myths while staying very true to the reality of college life. From the parties and the pressures of social acceptance to managing academics and relationships, students will find many of the scenes depicted in “Haze” familiar to their own experiences, which makes the immensely difficult-to-watch scenes of Hell Week and other hazing activities even more harrowing.

By using relatable characters in an entertaining movie as the vehicle to deliver the message of the dangers of hazing, Burkman hopes for the audience to come out of the campus screenings of the film prepared to have a discussion about the reality of this epidemic problem. The vast majority of the film depicts real experiences Burkman, and others ranging from those currently in college to those in their 30s or even 80s, had when pledging.

In an interview with Technique, Burkman discussed his motives and goals in making “Haze,” and its current college run, having been screened at over 20 campuses in the past two weeks.

“We recently partnered with The Georgia Tech Office of Greek Affairs to bring the film to campus, and the four governing Greek Councils hosted the screening in the Student Center Theater on the Georgia Tech campus on Saturday, Sept. 24th. A discussion about the issues the film raises followed the screening. This event was a part of National Hazing Prevention Week.”

While Hollywood has had many movies taking a comedic or campy-horror-film approach to the topic of fraternities and sororities, Burkman wanted to address the darker, more serious aspects of Greek life, which often go ignored or are shrouded in secrecy until consequences like death from alcohol poisoning result. The film attempts to depict and facilitate a dialogue about what hazing exactly is, and shows the less-discussed psychological and emotional toll hazing has on pledges.

“They don’t bring you down to the basement and start beating you up from day one, because nobody would stick around for that,” Burkman says.

“There’s a gradual ramping up where it’s not perceived as being hazed because it’s rather
subtle, with a punishment and reward cycle.”

When asked why he thinks hazing takes place, Burkman says, “There are very common human psychological underpinnings to all of this, but I think at its root, hazing is serving at least one if not many human psychological needs, and if we’re ever really seriously going to do anything about it, we need to understand what that need is that’s being served, and how can we serve those needs in healthy ways rather than these ways that are dangerous and harmful.”   

The goal of screening “Haze” on college campuses is to allow the audience an opportunity to process the film and to spark a dialogue that will extend beyond the stunning revelation of the disconnect between people’s ideals and the reality offered by the final scene of the movie.

“The hope that we have is that we spark the beginnings of these conversations. I think ‘Haze’ is a powerful movie for a lot of people, and if it lingers in their minds, my hope is that they’ll continue to have these conversations on their own, and that organizations don’t just stop the conversation once we leave campus but continue searching for solutions.”

“Haze” has spent the past year on the film festival circuit, where it picked up several “Best Film” and “Best Screenplay” awards. After exclusively screening on college campuses across the country, “Haze” will be released commercially in the spring, with a limited theatrical run and release on digital and cable video on demand platforms.   

Based on the book by Paula Hawkins, the film version of “The Girl on the Train” hit theatres on Oct. 7 and somehow managed to fall short of the intense journey the original provided. While the catchphrase “I liked the book better” is often invoked after watching the screen version of a best-selling novel, in this case it rings uniquely true.

“The Girl on the Train” is the story of Rachel Watson (Emily Blunt, “The Devil Wears Prada”), an alcoholic commuter who watches the lives of a seemingly perfect couple from the train each day, until one day the woman, Megan (Haley Bennett, “Music and Lyrics”), disappears.

Rachel began watching their house on her way to and from Manhattan because they live just a few houses down from her ex-husband Tom (Justin Theroux, “The Leftovers”), who lives in their old house with his new wife Anna (Rebecca Ferguson, “The White Queen”) and new baby.

Tormented by the thought of her ex living with the woman he cheated on Rachel with and living the life she used to have, Rachel attempts to drown her sorrows in alcohol. These actions lead to her blacking out and harassing the new couple. On one such bender triggered by her rage at seeing Megan embracing a man who is not her husband and ruining Rachel’s idyllic vision of the perfect happy couple, Rachel awakens to find herself covered in blood and is interrogated by the police regarding Megan’s disappearance.

The Hitchcockian psychological drama follows the complicated  question of whether Rachel is a witness or a suspect in the disappearance of Megan, and as Rachel inserts herself into various parts of Megan’s life to try and uncover the truth, her sanity becomes as questionable as her memory of that fateful night.

While the storytelling device of flashbacks told through all three of the women’s perspectives works on the page, the translation to the screen seems choppy and unfulfilling. Despite the superb acting by Emily Blunt, who brings a vitality to the intoxicated yet sleuthing Rachel that is worth witnessing, her talents alone are not enough to compensate for
the lack of depth found elsewhere in the film.

While the characters have their moments in inspiring emotion from the audience, the response each individual evokes fails to string together into the compelling narrative intended, and at a climax where one would expect a gasp, instead the audience is left underwhelmed by the emotional gravity of what happens.

Perhaps the one thing the film does successfully is allow the audience to be a voyeur much like Rachel is to the lives of the characters in the film. In this case, the tired storyline of the “dead hot girl” does involve numerous scenes of the hot girl in sexually promiscuous positions, which furthers the enjoyable voyeurism of the film while simultaneously detracting from any depth Megan or her story provides. The views into Anna’s life do little to endear her to those gazing inside and leave her character especially unlikable and perplexing.

Despite numerous points of absurdity, the revolving gaze into the lives of these three women do come together to unveil an interesting story that is entertaining to watch. Audiences should not compare Rachel to the girl “she used to be” in the book, which will allow for an enjoyable viewing.

After months of mystery around the theme of Season 6 of “American Horror Story” on FX, viewers were rewarded with “My Roanoke Nightmare” in a delightfully scary and intriguing premiere episode.

The story of a couple who experience a violent event and move to an increasingly creepy house in the country of North Carolina is told in the style of a “true-story” documentary with talking-heads style interviews.

The documentary cuts between actors depicting the tale’s events on screen and the real-life couple, Shelby and Matt Miller, portrayed by Lily Rabe (“The Merchant of Venice”) and Andre Holland (“The Knick”). The couple is attacked during a gang initiation in Los Angeles, and after she loses her baby, they outbid the creepy local Polk family for a 10-acre property in the North Carolina woods. The reenactors playing Shelby and Matt are Sarah Paulson and Cuba Gooding Jr., reunited on screen after their critically acclaimed performance in “The People vs. O.J. Simpson.”

Because we know they survive the ordeal, it could be argued that the fact that the real Shelby and Matt Miller are alive to tell the tale of the horrors they experienced kills the tension of what’s to come. But perhaps like the new Lady Gaga song claims in the teasers for the season, this is all a “perfect illusion,” for nothing is what it seems so far.

Between teeth falling from the sky as rain, a creepy home video depicting a Pig-Man, ghostly appearances in the house, a sinister drowning attempt in a hot tub, strung up stick figures reminiscent of those in the “Blair Witch Project,” and Kathy Bates (“Misery”) appearing in colonial garb before disappearing in the woods where the ground pulsates as if it is breathing, nothing is clear except that this season is returning to building tension from atmosphere rather than placing emphasis on shock-value moments.

To the frustration of many viewers, the episode did little to clarify what the season’s actual theme will be and lacked the creepy introductory sequence of former seasons.

Returning cast members billed but not yet seen include Evan Peters, Dennis O’Hare, Lady Gaga, Wes Bentley and Cheyenne Jackson, and their role in the drama to come is exciting to ponder. Creator Ryan Murphy has said that the season will be shortened from the normal 13 episodes to just 10 and moved the premiere and finale dates up so the season will end in November rather than near the holidays. Murphy told Vanity Fair that “Roanoke” will be more “dark” and “rouge” than the last season, “Hotel,” was.

In a show that is constantly reinventing itself, this season furthers the mystery that keeps viewers theorizing what new horror will emerge to enthrall us all.

Welcome to “Atlanta,” a new comedy on FX that is important for being unlike anything else on television. Created by Donald Glover (“Community”), the show combines elements the actor-rapper knows well: comedy, hip-hop (he raps under the name of Childish Gambino), and what it is like to be black in the city of Atlanta.

The story follows the aptly named Earnest “Earn” Marks, a former Princeton student who left college for reasons unknown even to his parents and moved back home to Atlanta. He dreams of earning a higher paycheck to support his daughter. Once he realizes that his cousin Alfred Marks (Brian Tyree Henry, “Vice Principals”) is rising to fame under the guise of a rapper, Paper Boi (who is also, as his song claims, “all about that paper, boi”), Earn sets out to rekindle their relationship with hopes of being his manager.   

Through the course of the pilot, it becomes evident that the characters are the driving force behind the show, rather than the major plot lines.

However, a slow-moving plot by no means translates into a boring show. Television viewers have become accustomed to a constant stream of entertainment, but somehow this show presents a climactic event in the pilot that is pushed aside as matters of the day-to-day take precedence — and it works. In fact, in the course of the first three episodes, “Atlanta” tackles topics such as use of “the n-word,” mental illness, homophobia, police brutality, the influence of rap culture on children, drug-dealing, dating on a budget, and the desire for something more than life currently contains.

While other comedies prioritize pushing the audience a to care about its characters, “Atlanta” takes a more relaxed approach. The less dramatic pace allows its comedy to naturally unfold, and it’s true-to-life feel makes it all the funnier.

Darius (Keith Stanfield, “Straight Outta Compton”) brings his own hilarious breed of reflective, offbeat philosophy to the archetypal stoner character. He delightfully foils the intensity of shoot-outs in gas stations or drug-deals gone bad.

When Earn first enters Paper Boi’s apartment, Darius is poised to stab him but instead offers him a cookie. Later Earn rhetorically wonders who exactly Darius is, and he comically alludes to their initial meeting by identifying himself as the guy who offered Earn a cookie.

The show begins with a scene of Earn in bed describing a dream to the mother of his child, Van (Zazie Beets, “Applesauce”). This opening is no coincidence: later scenes leave the audience wondering if what is shown happening is reality. In one incident on a bus, a stranger making a Nutella sandwich abruptly tells Earn to “bite this sandwich” before disappearing from the bus and walking into the woods.

Such surreal scenes bring an unexpected twist and make the ordinary difficulties of the characters’ lives seem to be on the more magical side of realism. Despite the foray into fantasy, much of the show ring as true as it gets. Moments from the second episode, which takes place primarily in jail, leave the viewer shocked by the violence and despair found behind bars. The viewer easily concedes with Earn, who laments “I hate this place.”

While Glover is known for his charisma, which shines through in his other work, his portrayal of the character Earn is an exercise in the opposite. The aimless and lonely qualities Earn displays make him difficult to fully understand, but this aspect somehow makes him more compelling as a vehicle for illustrating the minute ordeals normal people face every day. The show drifts from hilarious to dreamy to downright horrific with ease, thanks to the director, Hiro Murai, who has worked with Glover on music videos in the past. Despite this dissonance, perhaps even because of it, “Atlanta” earns its place as an important show to witness.

How does a “hero” know that they made the right call?

This question has been the theme of recent comic book movies “Captain America: Civil War” and “Superman v. Batman: Dawn of Justice,” but “Sully” continues this year’s motto in a more non-fiction sense. Directed by Clint Eastwood (“American Sniper”), the film focuses on the pilot behind the Miracle on the Hudson, Capt. Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger (Tom Hanks, “Captain Phillips”), more than the actual event.

The movie begins by immediately and clearly communicating Sullenberger’s post-traumatic stress. By showing the pilot restlessly staring at news reports about the recent events, “Sully” challenges the expectations for how a “hero” should feel.

As actual news footage from the event rolls on the TV screen, audiences are told exactly what they need to know: Captain Sullenberger successfully saved the lives of all 155 passengers on US Airways Flight 1549 by landing the damaged plane onto the Hudson River on Jan. 15, 2009.

The film progresses by guiding moviegoers through a behind-the-scenes tour of the U.S. Airways Flight 1549 incident. Unseen by the public eye, an investigation into the landing for insurance purposes develops. The questioning of the efforts of Sullenberger by the bureaucratic National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) paints the NTSB in a negative light.

Tests cited by the board suggest that the pilot had enough thrust to land at nearby airports.   However, Sullenberger remains adamant that any option other than a water landing was impossible and would have been tragic. What follows is the struggle between the pilot’s instincts and a logistical calculation, up until the truth is finally revealed at the end of the film.

Although the conflict between the board and Sullenberger propels the plot, what makes this movie interesting is the conflict occurring within the pilot. The notion that heroes have trouble sleeping at night is intriguing, especially since the movie’s subject is a fairly recent event with an all-American tone to it.

The thought of anyone, let alone the hero himself, discounting actions that resulted in a best case scenario seems absurd, especially at the beginning of the film. But as evidence is found, the seed of doubt is planted; an atmosphere of uncertainty is created and remains for most of the film. Since events are mostly shown through the perspective of Sullenberger, insecurity in his decision only thickens that atmosphere until the audience is forced to choose a side.

Part of the reason this choice is so difficult is because of Tom Hanks’s performance. As always, Hanks plays the shaken all-American, and he only encourages audiences to believe in Sullenberger and his instincts. Some might criticize an almost stone-cold approach to the struggle that Hanks portrays, but the serious façade is another facet of the disciplined and experienced pilot. The world of the film is built around Sully, and for the most part, it is structurally sound.

While “Sully” is a modern take on the American hero style of film, by no means has it broken any new ground or innovated the medium. It is not perfect. First, the movie is based on
a rather brief timeline of events: the actual landing took mere minutes. Therefore, the movie’s 96-minute runtime relies on post-incident developments and reveals information about the landing in varying amounts.

About halfway through, the audience first sees the plane land on the Hudson, but one of the last scenes of the movie is a flashback that only differs in providing slightly more detail. This repetition feels as though it was an effort to pad the movie length.

Additionally, the antagonist’s motivation is vague. The audience is told that the harsh National Transportation Safety Board is unforgiving to Sullenberger in the name of insurance, but the magnitude of the board’s callousness closes in on unbelievably cruel and almost disrespectful. Drama between Sullenberger and the board feels unnecessarily forced.

“Sully” is a solid movie that knows what kind of story it has and how to tell it. By centering itself around a well-acted character, the movie fulfills its advertised promise of telling an “untold story,” but it offers more than a study of Capt. Sullenberger and the Miracle on the Hudson. “Sully” is an examination of the modern hero in a context that anyone, especially flight enthusiasts or those familiar with the incident, would find enjoyable and intriguing to watch on the big screen.

If “Making a Murderer,” the “Serial” podcast, and “The Wire” combined into a crime and justice drama series,  it would be “The Night Of.” Based on the BBC series “Criminal Justice,” co-creators Steven Zaillian and Richard Price bring a convoluted murder mystery with fascinating political and cultural significance.

The eight-part limited series tells the story of Nasir Khan (Riz Ahmed, “Jason Bourne”), a college student who borrows his father’s taxi, inadvertently picks up a girl named Andrea Cornish (Sofia Black D’Elia, “Project Almanac”), takes drugs, blacks out and fades back in to find her stabbed to death in her bedroom.

Panicked, Naz flees the crime scene, and in a series of unfortunate events winds up in police custody and on trial as the primary suspect for the murder. John Stone, the eczema-afflicted lawyer who chooses to represent Naz, is played by John Turturro (“Transformers”) in a role which begs to be considered for an Emmy nomination.

Bill Camp (“12 Years a Slave”) plays the role of Detective Dennis Box, a “subtle beast” (as Naz calls him, and as episode two is titled) who is on the verge of retirement but is first tasked with the investigation of the murder. In the third episode the audience is introduced to Freddy, played by Michael Kenneth Williams (famous for his role as the antihero gangster Omar in “The Wire”), who is a power broker inside Rikers Prison and takes Naz under his protection.

Since neither Naz nor the viewers are able to see what actually happened between the time Andrea and Naz engage sexually and when she’s found stabbed 22 times, theories regarding whodunit abound. Was it Naz? The creepy limo driver she interacts with at a gas station? The step-father motivated by acquiring her inheritance?

This central mystery, along with the compelling courtroom and investigatory drama, drive the story forward in a manner than can only be described as “must-see.” In fact, the entire show is so brilliantly acted, masterfully written and beautifully shot that it brings the audience a palpable tension along with the type of addictive mystery that the crime and justice genre aspires to achieve.

Beyond the captivating story and characters, “The Night Of” is significant in its portrayal of several grim realities in a way that manages to be subtle yet powerful. It is heart breaking to watch Naz, a seemingly clean-cut college student descent into drugs and crime, as he is forced to adapt to the inside walls of Riker’s Prison.

It is also difficult to watch his family struggling to raise money needed to afford a proper defense, along with the accurate depiction of the fallout from the Muslim-American community in New York in response to having one of their own accused of murder. When the tough district attorney prosecuting Naz, played by Jeannie Berlin (“Inherent Vice”), is presented with an alternative suspect but chooses to continue with the trial against Naz, saying “We have more on him,” the viewer is confronted with several very ugly truths on how the justice system is far from perfect.

The flawless tension created by the pilot episode lessens as the season progresses, but the anxiety from the tough, gritty realism presented to the audience rarely gives up.

Indeed, “The Night Of” is so exquisitely crafted that it proves HBO certainly has a life beyond the “Game of Thrones” hype, and that even a tale as old as the “dead hot girl” storyline can still be told in a compelling manner.