There’s no shortage of material about the continuing opioid crisis. What sets Netflix’s new dramatized contribution to the library apart is that it’s the most aspirational yet depressing of the bunch.
The slick limited series, Painkiller, examines the origins of OxyContin and the dark characters behind its launch: the executives who conceptualized it, the officials who endorsed it, the sales reps who pushed it, the doctors who prescribed it and the people who took it.
It’s a lot to unpack over six episodes, but the overall message is clear: this intersection between money and Big Pharma has led to one of the most dangerous periods in health care history, legalizing actions that would have been penalized or shut down under different circ*mstances.
If this all sounds familiar, that’s because Painkiller comes two years after Dopesick, Hulu’s dramatized take on the same subject matter. At the 2022 Emmys, that eight-episode iteration won for Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series and landed Michael Keaton an acting trophy. In other words, it’s a lot to go up against, but Dopesick has a much darker tone. Subject-wise, Painkiller acknowledges the doctors at the centre of this crisis but never quite digs into their POV, adding more distance from Keaton and his memorable take on the fictional Dr. Samuel Finnix.
Telling this Hamilton, Ont.-shot story are executive producer Eric Newman (who helmed the Narcos franchise for the streamer) and director Peter Berg (Friday Night Lights). The narratives are based on the journalism of executive producer Patrick Radden Keefe (Empire of Pain) and consultant Barry Meier (Pain Killer: A Wonder Drug’s Trail of Addiction and Death).
Opinion: Barry Meier on why it took so long for the world to accept the dangers of OxyContin
Each episode starts with the same disclaimer, read to the camera by a parent who lost a child to OxyContin – that the series is fictionalized but based on true events. What is real is their loss, and the dangers of the drug.
From there, the series presents a glossy but jarring shift as it follows a core group of characters with big personalities. There’s Richard Sackler, the head of OxyContin producer Purdue Pharma, who is played by Matthew Broderick. He’s the real villain of this story, humanized by a desire to appease his deceased uncle, the lobotomy-loving psychiatrist Arthur Sackler, who first realized there was money to be made in marketing pills.
The series presents Richard as a quirky genius, who may also be dealing with mental-health issues. He knows how to make money, spin the narrative and do the unexpected, setting him up as the man every aspiring businessperson wants to be – at least until the consequences roll in. He’s a grown-up version of Ferris Bueller, having cheated the system for so long that rules no longer apply to him. He’s also got a cute dog, and who can completely hate a bad guy with a good-hearted pooch?
On the opposite side of the law is the fictionalized legal investigator, Edie Flowers (Uzo Aduba), a compilation character of those who worked tirelessly to decipher the crisis and then bring down the Sacklers. She’s the entry point to the larger-than-life story, as she recalls her investigation in the present-day to a new group of attorneys taking over the good fight. Her passion and anger over how this company got away with what they did is tangible and fuelled by personal motives, particularly as her character discovers more information and ingrains herself in the central fight in the flashbacks.
There’s also a fictional everyman and patriarch named Glen Kryger (Taylor Kitsch), whose life is forever altered when his doctor prescribes him OxyContin for a back injury. He’s a good guy made even more likeable by Kitsch, but you know from the moment he pops that first pill that he won’t have a happy ending. That doesn’t stop writers Micah Fitzerman-Blue and Noah Harpster from tugging at your heartstrings with a few hopeful turns along the way, and it humanizes the depressing truth experienced by so many real families. Glen’s descent is hard to watch, in particular during one scene at a diner, but that makes the story more impactful as it progresses.
Then there are the glamourized (and fictionalized) reps who sell the Schedule II narcotic like it’s a magazine subscription. They represent the aspirational part of this series. Britt Hufford (Dina Shihabi) is responsible for recruiting new team members to earn the trust of doctors and get them to prescribe OxyContin, and early on she brings Shannon Schaeffer (West Duchovny) on as her mentee.
Shannon Schaeffer is to Painkiller what Ray Liotta’s Henry Hill is to Goodfellas. As the money starts pouring in and she upgrades her shabby life into a Porsche-and-penthouse existence, she’s living that proverbial American dream. But as she advances within the company and discovers the reality behind what she’s hocking, the dream becomes a nightmare from which she’s desperate to escape.
For those who have been following the narrative in the news, books or through the myriad docs out there, the series doesn’t present anything new. For viewers with a vague awareness of the crisis, the series is a somewhat digestible watch that brings you up to speed with good music, acting and characters. There are a few too many hazy, Oxy-fuelled scenes and fireworks than necessary, not to mention extraneous dance and party scenes that overemphasize the celebratory nature of the drug from those who profited most. There could also be a few less close-ups of a particular dog’s genitals, in this humble opinion.
Still, the real indigestion comes from the injustice of it all – and knowing the problem still exists. How was this allowed to happen and who should be held responsible? If you already distrust Big Pharma and its connections to the government, Painkiller and its complex examination of the crisis will only fuel your feelings. It’s a reminder that, in the end, money talks, over and over.
Painkiller debuts on Netflix Aug. 10.
