Under the Bridge

Gladstone is a reassuring on-screen presence, even if she’s forced to visibly wince at every mention of the word “race” or her boss/dad’s invocation of “sweetheart”. Keough, who rose above the middling Daisy Jones and the Six, is likewise underserved by the material.

Despite being based on a grim true-crime yarn, Under the Bridge makes several poor choices in translating the book to the screen, beginning with inserting the author, Rebecca Godfrey, into the story. This bridge into the familiar waters of troubled teens thus proves most notable as Lily Gladstone’s follow-up to “Killers of the Flower Moon,” albeit in a rather drab role as the local cop investigating the case.

While its eight episodes are clearly aiming for lofty, vital storytelling, it's only the first four that manage to move you. And it's a shame because so much of this story demands to be heard.

When Keough and Gladstone are on screen, alone or together, you get it. .... Quinn Shephard and company only sometimes are able to get more than surface deep with Josephine, Kelly, Warren, and the other teens. ... But on the whole, Under the Bridge is oddly at its strongest when it strays furthest away from the actual events of the case. And the sheer amount of time spent with the less-developed characters can make the viewing experience feel more punishing than revelatory at times.