In the captivating realm of crime-solving fiction, two vastly different protagonists, Alex Cross and Mickey Haller, have carved out their respective niches. While Cross, the embittered psychologist created by James Patterson, leads his fellow fictional crime solver Haller, the flamboyant lawyer created by Michael Connelly, in the literary realm, the tables turn on the small screen. As the "The Lincoln Lawyer" series debuts its third season on Netflix, the highly anticipated first season of "Cross" finally arrives on Amazon Prime Video, offering viewers a contrasting exploration of the problematic-genius formula.

Delving into the Dichotomy of Crime-Drama Heroes

The Allure of Wounded Investigators

The current marketplace appears to have an endless appetite for brilliant but wounded investigators, and Haller and Cross share a common trait that defines the contemporary crime-drama hero. Their personal traumas – Cross's loss of his parents and wife, Haller's issues with his father and addiction – generate much of the tension in their stories, reducing the need for real complexity of personality or the clever unraveling of mystery. This formula, while familiar, can be executed in vastly different ways, as evidenced by the distinct viewing experiences offered by "Cross" and "The Lincoln Lawyer."

Contrasting Tones and Approaches

Within the boundaries of the problematic-genius formula, "Cross" represents the dark yin, while "The Lincoln Lawyer" embodies the bright yang. "Cross" delves into a self-consciously heavy narrative, whereas "The Lincoln Lawyer" treads a perilously light path. The most significant distinction, perhaps, lies in the shows' respective approaches to their protagonists. "Cross" is out to sanctify its protagonist, while "The Lincoln Lawyer," though it provides Haller with a full allotment of anguish, never asks the audience to feel sorry for him.

The Creators' Unique Visions

The creator of "Cross," Ben Watkins, previously helmed the eccentric neo-noir "Hand of God" for Amazon, and his penchants for hair-raising imagery and the blending of tones and styles carry through to the new show. Choosing not to base "Cross" on a specific Patterson novel, as previous film adaptations have done, Watkins frees himself to concoct a lurid but not very exciting stew of serial-killer horror, buddy-cop action, social-justice point-making, and sentimentality.

Aldis Hodge's Portrayal of Alex Cross

Played by Aldis Hodge ("Leverage"), Alex Cross is a District of Columbia police detective with a Ph.D. in psychology. We are introduced to him on the occasion of his wife's murder, and for the eight episodes that follow, the character shuttles between dour grief and bellowing anger. Hodge, usually a magnetic performer, settles on a glaring, unmediated intensity that may not fully capture the nuances of the character.

The Convoluted A-Plot

The A-plot, in which Cross investigates the murder of a defund-the-police activist, blossoms into a richly nonsensical "Silence of the Lambs"-style fantasia. Common sense is left far behind, in matters large and small, as the show indulges in a series of head-scratching moments that undermine the credibility of the investigation.

Contrasting Approaches to the Problematic-Genius Formula

While "Cross" and "The Lincoln Lawyer" both operate within the boundaries of the problematic-genius crime-drama genre, their distinct approaches to storytelling, character development, and tone create vastly different viewing experiences. "Cross" embraces a heavy-handed, self-serious style, while "The Lincoln Lawyer" maintains a more lighthearted and nuanced touch, never asking the audience to venerate its protagonist. The contrasting visions of the two shows offer a compelling exploration of the genre's potential and limitations, inviting viewers to engage with the complexities of the contemporary crime-drama hero.