How does a critic properly evaluate a well-made television show built on morally questionable plot decisions? Such is the challenge of reviewing Paramount+’s new series, Happy Face.
The show tells the story of Melissa Moore (Annaleigh Ashford), who grew up the daughter of the so-called Happy Face serial killer, Keith Jesperson (Dennis Quaid). That part is true. Jesperson is a real serial killer who was convicted of committing eight homicides between 1990 and 1995 and confessed to 20 times that many. Melissa grew up with him until his arrest and conviction when she was around 16. She went on to “reveal” herself in 2008 on the Doctor Phil show, here recast as the Dr. Greg Show with host Dr. Greg (David Harewood). Melissa then made the rounds on other talk shows and wrote a book.
Where things got uncomfortable for this critic is where the show leaves behind reality. In the Michell King, Robert King, and Jennifer Cacicio-developed Happy Face, Melissa tentatively goes public to help save a death row inmate, Elijah (Damon Gupton, giving weight to a character written mainly as a plot prop). She’s dragged into the light by her dad when he claims he committed the murder that sent Elijah to death row in Texas. Dear ol’ Deadly Dad promises to provide the information to exonerate Elijah, but only if he gets Dr. Greg coverage. More importantly, his daughter, the show’s makeup artist, must be front and center on-camera and off.
Paramount+) Damon Gupton 2" class="wp-image-53857"/>Damon Gupta in the grayest space you can imagine. (Ed Araquel/Paramount+)
The other added “sweetener” involves Melissa’s teen daughter Hazel (Khiyla Aynne) slowly getting drawn into her grandfather’s sway, first by selling his art and later by secret phone calls between the two. Aynne does strong work capturing that sense of a teen in transition and how that makes her vulnerable. Still, it never shakes a vaguely exploitative vibe, especially as Melissa has her own family in real life, none of whom seem to have gone through this.
The two imaginary subplots become the bulk of the series narrative drive, which makes their inclusion feel even more ill-advised. Given how none of Keith’s real-life victims are named, labeling Happy Face a true crime story feels inaccurate at best. The idea of the story of a woman who grew up in the home of a serial killer whose only victims were women seems to be compelling on its face. So why graft these made-up events on the narrative? Why not have confidence in the subject matter that presumably first attracted the developers to the real-life source material? This writer has no interest in being a finger-waving scold, but I couldn’t shake a vaguely gross feeling throughout.
Paramount+) Dennis Quaid" class="wp-image-53839"/>I’ll be honest. I don’t love the look Dennis Quaid is giving me. (Katie Yu/Paramount+)
And yet, there is much to like about Happy Face. Ashford provides a thoughtful center, capturing the wide and confounding range of emotions her character must face. Her performance suggests she easily could’ve made a more true-to-life story as watchable, if not more so. Quaid starts big and stays there. However, he layers subtlety under the scenery chewing. The choice makes it increasingly clear Keith’s every word is its own performance. He is playing a character as sure as Quaid is, the “real” Keith only seen in glimpses. That core–cold, slippery, and grimly manipulative–makes the flamboyant character unnerving in a way other lead character serial killers often don’t manage.
Not every character lands. For instance, the Moores’ younger child never gets much of a personality or a spotlight. Given the show’s “liberties,” it seems strange not to just cut him, considering how little he has to do. The usually great James Wolk gets the short end as Melissa’s husband, Ben. He gets the role we often see women stuck with—the spouse left at home while their hero partner goes out to save people. It turns out it is just as reductive and unpleasant when a man is in the part, stuck admonishing his wife about the household while she literally fights for a man’s life. Wolk isn’t bad, but the role sure is.
Paramount+) Benjamin Mackey James Wolk Khiyla Aynne Annaleigh Ashford" class="wp-image-53835"/>Want to know how it feels to walk into Benjamin Mackey, James Wolk, Khiyla Aynne, and Annaleigh Ashford’s house invite in the morning. Well, here you go. A photo to give you that feeling. (Victoria Will/Paramount+)
The show is suitably tense, with plenty of twists and red herrings. If you can shut off the part of your brain that might object to the show’s choices, the show certainly never bores. The needle drops are good songs, even if they are thunderingly obvious choices (I hope you like songs with the word happy in them!) It is a slick, well-shot show buoyed by strong performances.
Happy Face even has moments of seeming commentary, typically delivered by Melissa’s producer, Ivy (Tamera Tomakili). She steadily grows to dislike her tabloid-leaning work, developing a desire for something more meaningful and honest. Sadly, the irony of that seems to escape the creators of this series.
Happy Face makes you queasy beginning March 20 on Paramount+.