Surely when JK Rowling decided to use a pseudonym to sign her detective work, she did not think that one day her name would be demonized, at least in the bubble formed by Elon Musk’s clients. If he signs as Robert Galbraith it is for differentiating universes, like John Banville when he mutates into Benjamin Black. Let no one wait on Cormoran Strike Death Eaters or Dementors, there is no more magical element in it than the ease with which its protagonists solve sometimes excessively motley cases, at least in the television adaptation. We do find a couple of charismatic detectives, the gigantic Cormoran and his assistant Robin, and all the comforting clichés of the genre: an unresolved tension more emotional than sexual, it seems unlikely that they end up throwing themselves on a glass table like david and maddie in Moonlight, and the traumas inherent to every researcher; Cormorant, in addition to having lost a piece of his soul, has also lost a piece of his leg.
What is new in the series that has just premiered its new season on HBO Max is that Cormoran and Robin find time to investigate in the midst of the daily din. For a few years, the usual thing is that in crime-themed detective work series there is little or nothing; They tend to focus more on the sufferings of their protagonists, generally women who, as Rosa Benito said of herself, “can’t pull the car anymore” —imagine Chayo’s mother investigating homicides between an exclusive on Lectures and a birthday for Gloria Camila, there is a format there.
Cormoran Strike It doesn’t pretend to be the series of the year, but it is necessary, because those of us who enter the crime and punishment categories of the platforms simply expecting investigation, clues, false culprits and unpredictable twists need to find it sometime.
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