Like a good cop, Eli (Billy Crystal) is sure at the start of Before that if he solves this one last case, he can retire happily. The difference is Eli is a psychiatrist, not a cop. And the case isn’t some unsolved murder or wild heist. It’s a little boy, Noah (Jacobi Jupe). Noah is a child in the foster system living with Denise (Rosie Perez). He has selective mutism. When Noah speaks, he occasionally does so in a no longer used Dutch dialect. He experiences visual and auditory hallucinations that often lead to violent outbursts. He also seems to know Eli somehow and, more disconcertingly, Eli’s recently deceased wife, Lynn (Judith Light).

The more Eli connects to the case, the worse it seems to get for both doctor and client. Before long, the audience, and indeed the doctor himself, must contemplate the limits of science and medicine. Is Noah mentally ill, or is there some strange and potentially dangerous supernatural force exerting a hold on him?

While the concept of “mental illness or supernatural intervention” came into vogue with The Exorcist(if not sooner), the rather risible idea experienced a kind of zenith in the late 90s and early 2000s. The most common form was an aging but still bankable male star (Michael Douglas, Robert DeNiro, to name a couple) as a psychologist, psychiatrist, or social worker—Hollywood frequently doesn’t know the difference—working with a young actress poised for stardom (Brittany Murphy, Dakota Fanning) in films with fairly generic names (Don’t Say a Word, Hide and Seek). There were other variations on theme, mixing gender, age, occupation, and so on. But at their core was the same driving question: is all this wild stuff the audience seeing caused by an evil otherworldly entity or the unfortunate result of an untreated or treated improperly mental illness? Before belongs to this “proud” tradition.

Despite the inherent grossness of the plot, Crystal turns in a strong performance. He smartly keeps Eli tightly wound. Even when doing undeniably horrifying things like pulling the skin off his own face, Crystal rarely plays to the cheap seats. His control gives Before a hushed, claustrophobic vibe that frequently makes the viewer feel just as trapped and out of sorts as the characters. Additionally, the few times he does lose control feel bigger and starker than they might if a more expressive (or, frankly, hammier) actor took the lead.

The imagery of ominous dripping tentacles, cracking ice, and shocking splatters of blood also proves effective. Initially. Unfortunately, at ten episodes, things feel increasingly repetitive. First, they lose their capacity to scare. Then, it costs the season its early sense of pervasive eeriness. It becomes a case of diminishing returns, something that drags Before down generally. It isn’t that the audience knows where the story is going before it gets there—although many likely will. It’s that the pacing is often so lax that it’s hard to muster much of a reaction when the climax finally arrives. What should quicken the pace and keep people intrigued until the final reveal instead slows to a crawl. The end, as a result, is less “oh wow!” and more “huh…ok, I guess.”

Putting so much of the series on Crystal alone doesn’t help things either. Jupe does fine as the traumatized and traumatizing Noah, but things get thinner in a hurry. Perez is given little more to do that react, briefly, before being shuffled off screen. Light is appropriately disconcerting but has little more depth than that. Hope Davis eventually shows up in the series’ back half as an interesting foil but until then it is almost entirely Crystal and Jupe’s show.

It’s a shame because Before does seem to have bigger ideas on the brain. There are some very human—how do you grieve, how do you let someone make a choice that is good for them but will crush you? Others grapple with deep metaphysical questions like what’s after this life and what dangers, if any, would a largely hidden world of spirits pose to the living? On the human questions, the show is also reasonably sure-footed. The writing tackles them with understanding and empathy, offering some slightly different perspectives on well-trod ground. On the metaphysical, the show feels less assured. Perhaps that makes sense, as those aren’t answers really available to any of us. Still, the conclusions feel more pat and less willing to sit in the discomfort than the script is when it wrestles with earthly questions.

Overall, though, the story of Before is primarily a story of stretching an idea too thin. At two hours (or even just over), it could’ve been a creepy mindbender with a strong center in Crystal. At something like just under five, though, all the immediacy is sapped away long before the story ends.

Before considers the before and after on Apple TV+ starting October 25.

Before Trailer: