Typically, crime dramas, especially in today’s fast-paced world, introduce their central crimes early, often with a murder occurring within the first five minutes. This is one of the unspoken conventions that HBO’s Task, premiering on Sept. 7, intentionally deviates from. The series, from Mare of Easttown creator Brad Ingelsby, commences with a sequence of ordinary moments depicting the lives of two individuals. A fatigued Tom Brandis (Mark Ruffalo) is shown in prayer, submerging his face in cold water, and taking Advil while driving. Meanwhile, a robust Robbie Prendergrast (Tom Pelphrey) carries his sleeping son to bed, prepares a large cup of coffee, and reacts to a dating app advertisement on the radio.
These sensitive, parallel depictions serve to introduce the characters, whose similar situations and contrasting decisions constitute the series’ primary focus, rather than any homicide or enigma. Resembling Mare of Easttown, yet with a somewhat more sophisticated narrative structure, Task employs the framework of a detective story and the particularity of its rural Pennsylvania backdrop to delve into fundamental human dilemmas. While the earlier series highlighted the numerous ways women bear the burden of holding families and communities together (a theme also present in this new series), Ingelsby’s newest work meticulously examines themes of guilt, vengeance, and absolution.
The two main characters of Task operate on different sides of the legal system. Robbie, still grieving a year after his wife departed, leaving him with their two children, is employed in sanitation alongside his close friend, Cliff (Raúl Castillo). Lately, they and another friend have been rendezvousing at night to commit robberies at trap houses. To prevent recognition by their targets, primarily members of a biker gang known as the Dark Hearts, the men wear Halloween masks; they display firearms but refrain from using violence. In the spectrum of felonies, the non-lethal armed robbery of drug dealers initially appears to be a lesser offense—until one victim manages to catch a glimpse of an attacker’s face. At that moment, Robbie and his associates unexpectedly become involved in a murder.
Tom, an experienced FBI agent assigned to recruitment fairs following the death of his wife, is selected to lead a specialized unit tasked with investigating these offenses. (This explains the series’ uninspired name.) His team, assembled from various local law-enforcement agencies, comprises largely inexperienced members. Anthony (Fabien Frankel) engages in pleasant conversation, while Aleah (The Underground Railroad star Thuso Mbedu, deserving of more roles like this) maintains a serious, professional demeanor. Lizzie (Alison Oliver), a recently divorced young woman, appears to be struggling. Concurrently, Tom’s adopted son, Ethan (Andrew Russel), is incarcerated awaiting trial; Tom and his teenage daughter, Emily (Silvia Dionicio), who is Ethan’s biological sister, face the difficult choice of whether to stand by him in court despite the profound anguish he has inflicted upon their family.
Although numerous parallels between Tom’s and Robbie’s lives become increasingly evident throughout the series, their most significant connections are discernible from the outset. Both individuals are devoted fathers who deeply cherish their children but have become somewhat adrift since the loss of their wives. (Tom’s coping mechanism involves excessive drinking, contrasting with Robbie’s criminal actions.) Contradicting their apparent tough personas, both also possess an unusual degree of gentleness, thoughtfulness, and vulnerability. The way these conflicting traits merge into credible characters is a testament to the performances of Ruffalo and particularly Pelphrey, whose poignant rendition of phrases such as “I need a life companion” possesses the power to deeply move the viewer.
Occasionally, Task may excessively underscore the parallels between its two central figures, though Ingelsby’s thoughtful considerations never undermine a narrative that thrives primarily due to its intricately developed characters. This is not presented as a simple dichotomy of heroes against villains. While antagonists certainly materialize, the true, more uncommon, and less foreseeable conflicts arise from the internal battles of individuals whose commendable intentions collide with dire circumstances. This approach frees the series from the conventional crime-investigation-arrest narrative arc common to the genre, without diminishing its suspense. Instead, episodes are driven by escalating tensions surrounding the difficult decisions characters are compelled to make. It is straightforward to act virtuously
until one is wronged. How does an upright individual react when those they hold dear are harmed?
It is noteworthy that in a series extensively exploring male responsibilities and relationships, a considerable number of the richly complex characters are female. Similar to Mare of Easttown, young women are often compelled to mature prematurely due to the choices made by the men in their lives. Robbie has taken residence in the home of his deceased brother, whose 21-year-old daughter, Maeve (portrayed excellently by Emilia Jones), would depart the town immediately if her family were not dependent on the exhaustive domestic duties she carries out. Emily finds herself conflicted between the sense of obligation she feels towards Tom for adopting her and her loyalty to Ethan. Both Lizzie and Aleah possess greater depth than initially presented (though a more extensive exploration of Aleah’s personal life outside of her profession would have been welcome in Task).
Task defies conventional expectations without adopting a judgmental tone. It recognizes that individuals who commit violent crimes can possess benevolent natures, that figures in law enforcement leadership may be as morally compromised as leaders of biker gangs, and that on occasion, following a tragic event, simply penalizing the individual ostensibly responsible does not always equate to true justice. In a nuanced yet profound declaration, particularly in an era where many Americans instinctively categorize strangers based on political affiliations, the series refrains from stereotyping its characters according to their social group. Tom, a former priest turned FBI agent, is portrayed as far from a perfect individual; indeed, such a depiction would render him uninteresting. The program’s focus on leniency, rather than justice as prescribed by an imperfect legal framework, aligns with Tom’s spiritual beliefs and the compassion it extends to every character. Even if characters cannot escape the repercussions of their most regrettable choices, they are able to strive to prevent those decisions from ultimately defining who they are.