Homeland hits another home-run

Homeland is a classic example of ‘Heroin TV’: television so addictive, it takes over your life a little bit. But in a good way.
With a veritable orgy of gongs in their award cabinet, the second series sets off at a thrillingly relentless pace. It doesn’t let you blink, not for a second. It has me on the edge of my cornflakes for an hour every Sunday- I think I’m still getting heart palpitations.
I can only recommend watching them back to back in one sitting to prevent the agony of having to wait a week for the next episode. With a title sequence more like a Jefferson Airplane video than anything else, it can feel like an all too realistic drug trip; and the credits always roll far too soon.
I devoured the first series in two days alongside innumerable slices of toast. And then I remembered that reality existed and that I didn’t actually have to try and solve a terrorist plot against America. I was hooked.
In the new series, all the secrets are out and people are not happy. There are red herrings and double, triple, quadruple agents every which way you look: this is a world in which nothing can be trusted, not even the state of your own mind. The dramatic irony is infuriating- characters run around completely oblivious as you shout at the screen.
It’s packed full of drama, knuckle-whitening tension, and only the mildest dose of casual racism. It’s all horribly believable.
Damian Lewis is, as usual, brilliant; effortlessly exuding dark charisma and threat as the enigmatic Nicholas Brody, who, as well as climbing the political ladder (if you haven’t watched the first series (a) WATCH IT NOW, and (b) don’t read this bit) is also juggling his integral role in a terrorist plot against the US. Clare Danes also excels as mentally unhinged CIA analyst Carrie Mathison. It’s hard to say what’s more interesting; Carrie’s questionable mental state, Brody’s duplicity, or their respective domestic troubles and the ensuing sexual tension.
The opposition between the banality of family responsibility and Brody’s obligation to his terrorist friends gains eye-watering pace as the spheres of his life threaten to collide. The clash between his duty as a father, husband and senator, and his covert second life as an undercover terrorist (shh) is what propels much of the dramatic turmoil. His wife threatens divorce, and his entire mission hangs in jeopardy every second.
There’s no glitz and Bond-esque glamour. Homeland is all about gritty realism, juddery camera movements; it looks more like the news than a high budget drama series.
Homeland is one of the first serious action/thriller/dramas to pay equal attention to both sides of the plot. Indeed, for an American CIA drama it is hardly blindlingly patriotic. We are exposed to intimate details of both the antagonists’ lives: Carrie’s drug addiction, Brody’s marital strife, the home lives of both. No-one really knows whose side they’re on. Can we possibly be empathising with a terrorist? Or do we find ourselves believing the theories of a woman who may or may not be seriously insane?
For now, you shall have to excuse me; I’m off to to sit in a corner and gently rock myself back and forth until my next hit: Sunday at 9pm, C4.