The Netherlands has developed quite the reputation for pumping out crime series at an almost industrial rate. Drugs, organized crime, severed fingers, cannabis farms and men in leather jackets who seem to take enormous pleasure in making each other’s lives absolutely miserable. Every now and then, Netflix throws in a cheerful Dutch comedy to break things up, but after more than a few spectacular misses, its Dutch division has finally managed to outdo itself withThe Perfect Lie(De Eetclub).
The new Dutch drama series is based on the bestselling novel by Saskia Noort. The book was already adapted for the big screen years ago, but Netflix has gone considerably bigger this time. No expense appears to have been spared in proving that, yes, even here in our tiny, rain-soaked corner of Europe, we can make a series that looks genuinely impressive.
So let’s not beat around the bush: The Perfect Lie is already the best Dutch series I’ve seen this year. Not just on Netflix, either. It might even be one of the best Dutch series of the past five or ten years.
Unmistakably Dutch
From the very first episode, the story gets its claws into you surprisingly quickly. There’s also something about the atmosphere that brings to mind Dutch films from the late nineties. Slightly trashy, refreshingly direct and thankfully never too polished or well-behaved. There are naked women, booze, drugs and plenty of swearing. Fortunately, none of it is there simply to tart up an otherwise paper-thin story. Underneath all that debauchery sits a genuinely strong drama, one that gradually makes it clear that almost everyone involved has something they’d rather keep buried.
Saskia Noort provides the foundations
Saskia Noort’s novel provides the sturdy foundations for the series. I haven’t read it myself, but compared with the earlier film adaptation, it certainly looks as though the creators have expanded the story considerably. In fact, having seen the final episode, I’m pretty damn sure they have. Without giving too much away, the season ends on an enormous cliffhanger. The sort that has you staring at the credits for a moment before checking whether Netflix has secretly hidden another episode somewhere.
A second season therefore feels almost inevitable, particularly given the production values and the way the story is blown wide open towards the end. Should Netflix decide to pull the plug anyway, that would, to put it in sophisticated critical terms, be really fucking annoying.
Give it a little time
For the tough guys among us who finish episode one wondering whether they’ve accidentally started watching something aimed squarely at the suburban mum demographic: stick with it. At first glance, The Perfect Lie does have the appearance of one of those respectable Dutch dramas that could easily turn up on public television six months later. Beautiful houses, wealthy people, glasses of wine and the sort of relationship problems we’ve already watched a thousand times before. But don’t be fooled. The Perfect Lie is an onion, peeled back one episode at a time, and every new layer reveals another helping of misery underneath.
Where your average Netflix thriller lets you work out within two episodes who the killer is, who’s sleeping with whom and who’ll soon be driving around with a corpse in the trunk, this series keeps its cards remarkably close to its chest. More importantly, it manages to do so without becoming irritatingly cryptic just for the sake of it.
What is The Perfect Lie about?
The story follows Karen, who moves with her family to Bergen, an affluent village in the Netherlands. Before long, she finds herself welcomed into the Eetclub: an attractive, well-off circle of friends who appear to have life very nicely figured out indeed. Huge villas, plenty of money and seemingly endless opportunities to eat, drink and party together. The perfect picture, in other words. Until everything goes to hell.
One of the villas goes up in flames and one member of the group dies in the fire. His wife and children barely manage to escape. From that moment on, Karen starts looking at her new friends rather differently. Because this cosy little group turns out to be particularly talented at one thing: keeping secrets.
Everyone has something to hide, and the friendships holding the group together appear to have been built on an increasingly shaky pile of lies. Karen decides to find out what really happened, but her investigation quickly becomes anything but harmless. The closer she gets to the truth, the clearer it becomes that almost nobody in this group is quite who they claim to be.
Although, come to think of it, calling them an “Eetclub” (essentially a dinner club) feels rather generous. I barely saw them functioning as one. Despite the original Dutch title, this is really just a group of friends and couples who have somehow gravitated towards one another. And in that sense, they’re almost stereotypically Dutch upper-middle-class: everyone lives in a house far bigger than they realistically need, everyone is successful on paper, everyone drinks nice winem, and almost nobody seems remotely happy. Lovely.
A cast that delivers
Netflix has assembled a sizeable Dutch cast for The Perfect Lie. Loes Haverkort, Teun Luijkx, Remko Vrijdag, Rifka Lodeizen, Charlie-Chan Dagelet, Matthijs van de Sande Bakhuyzen, Noortje Herlaar and Edwin Jonker are all on board. Dana Nechushtan and Margien Rogaar handle directing duties, while Fiction Valley is behind the production.
For viewers outside the Netherlands, those names probably won’t mean a great deal. Back home, however, these are hardly newcomers. Most of them have been around long enough to know exactly what they’re doing. It’s the women, in particular, who stand out this time. Loes Haverkort is excellent, while Charlie-Chan Dagelet, Noortje Herlaar and Rifka Lodeizen all leave a strong impression.
Almost suspiciously good for a Dutch production
The Perfect Lie is genuinely the sort of series the Netherlands can be rather proud of. It might not immediately appeal to viewers who hear “Dutch Netflix series” and automatically expect a cannabis farm to be raided within twenty minutes while three ecstasy dealers chase each other down the street with crowbars. This is something else entirely.
It’s a layered drama with a healthy dose of tension, interesting characters and enough secrets to keep you constantly second-guessing who can actually be trusted. The acting is, at times, almost suspiciously good by Dutch standards, the production values leap off the screen and Saskia Noort’s story turns out to be extremely well suited to a longer Netflix adaptation. Perhaps that’s the biggest compliment of all: when the final episode ends, you simply want more.
A bit of Dutch pride
How The Perfect Lie will fare outside the Netherlands is harder to predict. However slick the production may be, the series frequently feels very, very Dutch. That isn’t necessarily a criticism. If anything, it gives the show some personality. But I am curious whether international audiences will embrace its particular flavour quite as enthusiastically.
As for the Netherlands itself? I’d be amazed if this doesn’t become a major hit. Netflix Netherlands has finally delivered a series that doesn’t require the usual disclaimer: “Well, it’s pretty good… for a Dutch show.” No. The Perfect Lie is just bloody good.
