The Lady and the Dale

The overarching, constant idea is that Liz was indeed brilliant, but you had to live in her world. How powerful to see a docuseries that deeply reminds the viewer just how complicated someone's honesty and goodness can be, even if they have a long criminal record.

"Lady and the Dale" is almost like embarking on a road trip; you have an idea of your destination, but it's really the stops and detours along the way that make it memorable, and that make the periods where things kind of stall-out easily forgivable.

A fascinating four-part HBO docuseries, premiering Sunday, January 31, that tells her story with honesty, humor, and admirable sensitivity.

Zackary Drucker (a producer on “Transparent” and “This Is Me”) and Nick Cammilleri, have packaged a complex and contradiction-laden tale adroitly and with remarkable legibility. The assurance with which they tell it matches the boldness with which Carmichael printed counterfeit money or created a company to make and market the Dale.

HBO’s The Lady and the Dale, directors Nick Cammilleri and Zackary Drucker (a consultant and cast member on Transparent) do right by their subject’s multitudes, presenting a rollicking and twist-filled bio-doc in four parts that doesn’t shy from Carmichael’s many flaws while supplying ample context for the transgender experience a half-century ago. TV’s longform documentaries are seldom so illuminating, or entertaining.

The narrow lane “The Lady and the Dale” must stay within is at once telling the rollicking yarn of the Dale, a fascinating con, while keeping an eye on the lady, who really lived and whose story deserves care. Gratifyingly, it succeeds.

It leaves some questions hanging and spins on a bit when it comes to trans history, but “The Lady and the Dale” is undeniably a gas.

The first hour of The Lady And The Dale is a bit slow, but we know it’ll pick up once we get into the story of Carmichael’s marketing of The Dale and how it all came crashing down.