It has been ten years since Tatiana Maslany raised the bar for actors playing multiple characters in one TV show, eventually winning an Emmy for “Orphan Black” in 2016. Maslany’s ability to seamlessly switch between the roster of different clones meant it was easy to forget she was performing most of the lead roles. The same can be said for Rachel Weisz in her undertaking of identical twins Elliot and Beverly Mantle in Alice Birch’s (“Normal People,” “She Said”) dizzying update of “Dead Ringers.” Whether portraying a dozen roles or two, the ability to depict multiple singular figures is a gift Weisz consistently demonstrates across the six-episode limited series.
Not only is Weisz on double duty playing the Mantle twins, but she is also instrumental in bringing the project to life. Nothing about this gender-swapped reimaging of David Cronenberg’s 1988 film comes across as a cheap or lazy gimmick. Weisz approached Birch to write the pilot episode, and from the jump, it is clear this story about brilliant but complicated gynecologists is timely in its approach to healthcare. It is also a psychological thriller exploring a complex co-dependent relationship and its impact on personal and professional entanglements.
There is no need to change the names of the doctors originally played by Jeremy Irons in Croneberg’s film, and fans of the movie will recognize elements of this story. In fact, a New York Magazine article about real-life twins Stewart and Cyril Marcus (that inspired the 1977 novel “Twins” by Bari Wood and Jack Geasland) provides the seeds for this heightened version of siblings who share everything from their careers to even romantic partners. Not that the objects of their affections are aware of this disturbing wing-man trick—nor are the patients who unwittingly are examined by both twins. Murky ethics permeate their dating life and work practices. The birthing center they dream of opening in New York City is fueled by ambition and the drive to break free of the myriad issues impacting those wanting to give birth in a safe environment.
Last year’s brilliant “This is Going to Hurt” offered a rare unflinching look at the day-to-day activity in an NHS labor ward in the UK. Similarly, “Dead Ringers” doesn’t pull any punches in depicting how different the care within one institution can be. Even in 2023, racial disparity and the maternal mortality rate are a crisis that persists—and increased during the pandemic. From the pilot on, these labor scenes are raw and, at times, hard to watch, and while there is nothing gratuitous about Sean Durkin’s (“Martha Marcy May Marlene,” “The Nest”) direction, some viewers might find the level of bloody graphic realism difficult. Beverly’s fury at the failures within the system ensures that while there are other intentions behind the birthing center, this motivation is grounded in wanting to overhaul an antiquated (and sometimes deadly) process. Of course, for all her noble ideas, money talks, and only the wealthy benefit.
Beverly’s desire to push the boundaries of birthing care makes her the front-of-house (so to speak) visionary, whereas Elliot is more interested in taking research in their field to new heights outside of the law. At a glance, it is easy to label Bev as the sensible twin who does everything by the book and Elliot as the hedonist who isn’t opposed to snorting lines at work. Thankfully, there is a lot more nuance than good twin/bad twin dynamics at work within this narrative. Impulsiveness is a trait shared, and Beverly is not without her faults. Elliot is the more outwardly playful and confident, but her sister isn’t a shrinking violet either.
On the surface, it is easy to tell the two apart by their hairstyles (Elliot always wears her down, Beverly’s is tied up) and clothing, but Weisz isn’t simply relying on this aesthetic choice to differentiate. Everything from tone to how expressive Weisz makes her face shift when she plays each role, and the dysfunctional Mantle twins are unique in their own right. Kitty Hawthorne plays Wesiz’s scene partner and stand-in, and while we never see her face, she is vital in making this so seamless.
Conflict arises in the story thanks to how enmeshed they are, and there is an ongoing push-pull to separate. Beverly tells a reporter it is “impossible to explain this relationship to anyone outside of it.” By the end of the series, elements are left open to interpretation. Some answers are given, but an abstract and unknowable quality is threaded throughout. This ambiguity might be frustrating, but it also speaks to heightened themes portrayed throughout.
The image of Jeremy Irons wearing elaborate red surgical scrubs—that look like someone has dyed papal robes scarlet—is a defining visual from Cronberg’s movie. While Birch’s vision is far from a play-by-play of the 1988 movie, costume designer Denise Cronenberg’s influence is evident in this version with designer Mickey Carleton’s nod to this iconic choice (Keri Langerman designed the pilot). Considering how bloody the medical procedures are, using red sparingly might have made more sense. Instead, this shade echoes through the sets, and work attire, adding to the confrontational and surreal tone.
Director Karyn Kusama (“Yellowjackets,” “Jennifer’s Body”) takes on one of the most disturbing sequences that blur those lines in the penultimate episode. Food and particularly Elliot’s entwined hunger and desire are repeated themes that hit new heights during a dinner sequence in “Pomegranate.” Horror and humor interlock in a scene that is equally compelling and nauseating. Guest star Michael McKean is excellent during this unnerving conversation about playing God, and a haunting encounter acts as a reminder that the person telling the story shapes the narrative. “Dead Ringers” doesn’t let anyone off the hook in this sequence.
Questioning the reality of certain scenes is a purposeful part of the mesmerizing fabric, but it never takes the surreal elements too far. Everything is grounded in a recognizable landscape, including the ultra-wealthy benefactor from a controversial pharmaceutical dynasty with shades of the Sackler family. Jennifer Ehle plays prickly and unsympathetic Rebecca Parker, who disregards anything or anyone who might impact company profits. It could easily be a mustache-twirling role, yet Ehle plays it matter-of-factly and threatens to steal every scene she is in. Rebecca’s younger wife, Susan (Emily Meade), takes on a more hopeful role with the Mantles’ vision, but a later episode offers an eye-opening look at her upbringing. Entering ultra-wealthy spaces allows the twins to play into a fantasy life that contrasts their childhood. Whereas they now live in plush Manhattan apartments, they are far from prepared for the twisted games played by the Parkers.
The Mantles are hard to separate, but they each have other support systems that are a complex and compelling part of this web. Assistant Greta (Poppy Liu) is the most undefined character at first, but her story plays out surprisingly and poignantly, giving Liu a terrific showcase when this mystery snaps into focus. It isn’t too little, too late, but getting to the crux of this storyline is an exercise in patience. Elsewhere, Michael Chernus is excellent as Elliot’s research partner-in-crime Tom. He doesn’t always know exactly what radical experiments she is conducting, serving primarily as comic relief; however, Tom gets several pivotal scenes that speak to why he blindly follows this twin.
Romance is a sticking point as the introduction of actress Genevieve (Britne Oldford) into the twins’ world is a destabilizing factor. Overall, this is the least compelling thread, as the conflict rather than the character within this couple pulls focus. Genevieve’s motivations aren’t given the same amount of time, and we breeze past a deeper development of this character. She is often in the dark, and in turn, she is held at arm’s length. Perhaps this is purposeful, but it also makes investing in this love story hard.
Instead, the twisted tale of two unapologetic women who share everything makes this an unforgettable update to a captivating story. It is an uncomfortable and challenging watch that immediately grabs you and doesn’t let up. The dizzying use of sound in the finale is indicative of how co-directors Durkin and Lauren Wolkstein (“A Friend of the Family,” “Y: The Last Man”) utilize different senses to increase the intensity of this viewing experience and broader questions the series poses. Earlier, one of the sisters is involved in a debate about whether being a twin means she gets to experience double or half. In the case of “Dead Ringers,” Weisz is twice as brilliant. [A-]
