![]() He has this veneer, that he’ll sail through life and never lose. There are people one has known and then there are the people you don’t know, but who are quite prominent in the news cycle. “Oh, you know,” he purrs, his refined, almost old-fashioned voice more or less undisturbed by the years in LA. Who inspired this creep? Someone he knew at boarding school? He laughs. Every one in which he doesn’t cries out for his return. Every scene in which he appears is electrifying. Harris is the greatest television actor of his generation. A nouveau riche horror show in chinos and deck shoes, his character appears to have not a single redeeming feature: if you heard his booming, entitled voice at an airport check-in, you’d pray all the way to the gate not to find him in the seat next to yours. ![]() I n The Beast Must Die, a TV series adapted from a dusty 1930s thriller by Nicholas Blake (AKA the poet Cecil Day-Lewis), Jared Harris plays a man who may, or may not, have knocked down a child while driving his sports car too fast around the Isle of Wight. ![]()
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