Chris Bennion

Real American sums up who he was: grandiose, magnificent, delusional, painful.

It is, sadly, a disappointing reunion.

Riz Ahmed’s Bait is extraordinary and daring.

The doldrums of the early episodes make way for light-headed mania.

For all its twists, turns, red herrings and fishy dialogue, Run Away (Netflix) gives the viewer exactly what it expects. We came here to binge, not watch. It’s the TV drama equivalent of mindlessly scrolling your phone.

It may lack a few belly laughs, but it is thoroughly entertaining (and while you or I may not find Trevor being called “Mr Bin” particularly funny, my eight-year-old could hardly breathe).

When the show forces the characters into something approaching a comic scenario – Ned and Mare ad-libbing badly as a married couple in a mattress shop to try to get a scoop – it allows the gifted cast to shine. Otherwise, it’s a tepid mockumentary about a gaggle of cutesy weirdos.

So much of what the drama tells us is true – Knox was maligned and mistreated, she was wronged and slandered, she had her life ripped away from her and transformed into something beyond her control and was courageous throughout it all. And yet by shoving these ideas down our throats, by turning her accusers into pantomime villains or bungling idiots, the drama does Knox a disservice.

Across the eight episodes, the hectic, rhythmic, incessant tone of the piece becomes tiring. Yet it’s a remarkable drama, immersive and oppressive, and one that shows how a man of fierce charisma and no principles can make fools of absolutely everybody.

Crucially the show is still funny, with new showrunner Saladin K Patterson embracing Judge’s willingness to press all sorts of buttons.