In December 2001, author Michael Peterson dialed 9-1-1 to relay that he had found his wife Kathleen lying at the bottom of the stairs in their Durham home; in the minutes immediately following his call to paramedics, Kathleen died, but local authorities didn't quite believe Peterson's story that his wife's death was the result of a tragic accident, a simple slip-and-fall that wasn't caused by anything nefarious or deliberate. Police charged Peterson with murdering Kathleen, and the ensuing indictment — as well as the lengthy trial — became fodder for a media circus, and Peterson's case was also the subject of an in-depth docuseries titled The Staircase, by filmmaker and writer Jean-Xavier de Lestrade, which tracked Peterson's initial trial and conviction, as well as the retrial that followed after purported evidence based on the state's bloodstain analysis was found to be misleading. Peterson eventually submitted an Alford plea (in which he asserted his innocence, even while acknowledging the evidence was sufficient to convict) and was sentenced to time served, which culminated in his release from prison in 2017.
The documentary version of The Staircase, consisting of 13 episodes (two of which were added on later), spans a long length of time — over 15 years — and, by its conclusion, doesn't seek to provide any definitive answer. The upcoming HBO Max drama of the same name, which hails from creators Antonio Campos (The Devil All the Time) and Maggie Cohn, also refrains from proclaiming any definitive judgment on this stranger-than-fiction case. In this particular instance, however, it proves almost reassuring to have no easy answers, with the series allowing for speculation (and giving weight to all potential theories for what could have happened — yes, even the owl theory) but never issuing a firm verdict one way or another. In fact, The Staircase widens its scale to become about much more than what happened on that fateful night in December — and rather than wallowing in the inexplicable, centers itself more on what happened next, as well as the lives and relationships that were irrevocably fractured after ending up under such high scrutiny.
For all its careful recreation and staging, what makes The Staircase the most compelling edition of itself lies in its performances. Colin Firth, who steps into the shoes of Peterson, right down to the pipe clenched between his teeth, takes on a significantly different, more self-appraising role than we've seen from him in recent memory. Through flashback scenes dedicated to fleshing out the author's backstory, there's plenty of evidence to support the fact that Peterson is a walking dichotomy and a fascinating one at that — a husband who proclaims fidelity and loyalty to his wife, even while he was entertaining (and sometimes acting on) intimate affairs with other men; an aspiring local politician who wants to shine a light on corruption but has lied about his own past military record and the commendations he received. The time spent in the past does the work to infuse the viewer with a sense of doubt, but is there enough of it to be considered reasonable? If Peterson was willing to tell a falsehood about receiving a Purple Heart, what else has he lied about?
With Kathleen's side of the story consigned to archival footage and family home movies in 2004's Staircase, it's Toni Collette who has almost as much of the heavy lifting to do besides her co-star in rendering a performance of someone whose voice was already silenced by the time the original docuseries began filming. According to the Petersons' neighbors and those who knew the couple well, their marriage was rock-solid, and whether Kathleen was actually aware of her husband's pursuits outside their relationship is one of the many unknowns the HBO Max series doesn't put a definitive point on, but Collette's presence on-screen infuses her with a complexity that the documentary didn't have a chance to explore, even if it does mean the show takes some creative liberties in the rendering of certain flashbacks. She isn't a two-dimensional cutout or the equivalent of a narrative lamp, someone who becomes a dehumanized avatar for justice and the American crime system; through the scenes we're given with Collette and Firth, as well as with the actors who make up their large, blended family, there's proof that their home was a happy one regardless of the various problems, both financial and emotional, that often arose.
The remainder of the Peterson household is built out by the younger stars who play the children — Patrick Schwarzenegger and Dane DeHaan feature as Todd and Clayton, Michael's sons from a previous marriage, while Sophie Turner and Odessa Young play Margaret and Martha Ratliff, whom the Peterson patriarch adopted after the death of their biological mother. Where the documentary didn't attempt to (or perhaps wasn't permitted to) explore the inner workings of the family in its footage, this Staircase delves much more significantly into the kids' inner lives both within and without the Peterson home, from Clayton's previous recurring legal problems to Margaret's struggles with her grades. When the siblings begin to fracture apart after their father is arrested, Kathleen's bio-daughter Caitlin (Olivia DeJonge) chooses to join her mother's family across the aisle at the trial, a divide spearheaded by Kathleen's sister Candace (Rosemarie DeWitt) — and it's a furrow that leads to what might be an unconquerable rift between the once-joined household.
As the case against Peterson starts to coalesce, several more recognizable faces from the original trial begin to take center stage in the story. As Peterson's defense attorney David Rudolf, Michael Stuhlbarg is not only flawless casting from a pure resemblance standpoint, but he brings the necessary gravitas that the real Rudolf so often possessed in the documentary footage — though it's that same austerity that begins to fray at the seams the longer the trial goes on without any firm resolution. By the time the prosecution (led by a delightfully scene-chewing, heavily eye-shadowed Parker Posey as ADA Freda Black) uncovers the fact that Margaret and Martha Ratliff's biological mother was also discovered dead, by Peterson no less, back in 1985, Stuhlbarg's Rudolf has reached his maximum indignation point, and the cherry on top is a pitch-perfect line-reading of: “You found another woman at the bottom of the stairs?!”
The Staircase ultimately does something intriguing in that it makes the filming of the documentary a focal point of its story (Lestrade does serve as one of the new show's producers), and for those who are already familiar with the 2004 series, there are undeniable references to it laden throughout — including directors Campos and Leigh Janiak filming sequences that are practically a shot-by-shot recreation of what appears there. In the documentary, Lestrade was a background figure, the unseen perspective, and it was through his lens that The Staircase later became known to the rest of the world; in the new series, he's a visible character in the narrative, played by Vincent Vermignon, who frequently butts heads with his producer (Frank Feys) over how to depict Peterson's story, as well as whether Peterson himself has even committed the crime of which he's been charged.
Watching this show not only makes the case for revisiting the documentary too; it demands a tandem viewing, with each successfully complementing the other in its existence. While other true-crime series of recent memory have aimed to take a conclusive side in terms of proclaiming the guilt or innocence of its subject, The Staircase chooses to let those debates play out through its characters, from the family members both close to and apart from Peterson through the trial to the documentarian with unrestricted access to his life — and by the end of each conversation, the participants are no closer to a resolution than when it began. In this new version of The Staircase, the fictional Lestrade reiterates over and over again that he wants to use his docuseries to bring awareness to the justice system regardless of the verdict that's reached or what his own instincts might be reaching for. Even as close as the documentary came in its pursuit of real answers, The Staircase doesn't offer much clarity beyond that, with no obvious answer amidst a legion of inscrutable mysteries that may never be unraveled. There's no successful interrogation of the truth, only the circumstances surrounding the truth itself — but that doesn't mean it's any less of a compelling watch in the undertaking.
Rating: A
The Staircase will premiere with its first three episodes on HBO Max on May 5, with new episodes airing every subsequent Thursday until the finale.