I’ll admit it: I judged 56 Days before I even pressed play. Between the title and the glossy Prime Video cover art, I fully expected soft porn pretending to be prestige television, a trauma response brought on by Netflix’s 365 Days trilogy. I was partly right. 

The first character we’re introduced to in 56 Days is Ciara Wyse (Dove Cameron), sharp cheekbones and all, wandering around a supermarket in a jacket falling off her right shoulder like she’s auditioning for an Ariana Grande music video. Paired with a NASA tote, there's something very “notice me” about the way she's dressed. The moment she stops in front of a fridge — not looking into it but at her reflection in the glass — it’s clear she’s definitely not shopping. She’s baiting someone.

Enter: Oliver (Avan Jogia), who notices one-fifth of her bare back and decides to plant his flag. They step outside, exchange a few overly awkward lines (so cringe, so gorgeous), and Ciara even flashes her ID, which she very conveniently had on her body as some sort of two-factor authentication. Oh I have an ID card and lanyard, I must be legit.

Just in case we missed it, the pilot eventually spells out that Ciara was deliberately trying to get Oliver’s attention with the outfit, the bag, and the obviously fake ID card. Who could have possibly seen that coming?

Now rewind to the very first scene: someone breaks into Oliver’s apartment and finds a very decomposed body in the bathtub. From here on out, 56 Days flips between past and present as we try to untangle the mystery of who’s dead, how they ended up there and if we actually care.

Fair warning: if you plan to watch this, you’re going to have to push through the awkwardness of the first episode. Whether it’s typical pilot turbulence, first-episode stiffness, or just the plot insisting they be painfully awkward with each other at the start, it’s a hard watch.

Karla Souza and Dorian Missick as Detectives Lee and Karl

Oliver and Ciara are both liars, very bad ones. You couldn’t possibly miss that, even if you were folding laundry while this show played in the background. When Oliver catches Ciara in a lie, her attempt to distract him with sex happens so often that it's exhausting, less plot-impactful and more “we  have two gorgeous people, why not make them do sexy things”. And despite the show framing them as the emotional centrepiece, Oliver and Ciara are honestly the least interesting part of this whole thing.

Investigating the case of the decomposed body are two cops, Lee (Karla Souza) and Karl (Dorian Missick),  and this is where the show finds it intrigue. Their dynamic is the most compelling on screen, largely built on mutual competence and saying deeply insulting things to each other. Karl is downright disrespectful to Lee, but they clearly care about each other, so somehow it works.

As the investigation unfolds, we learn that Lee is bored with her goody-two-shoes life and has chosen to live a little closer to the edge with a criminal 'boyfriend' who buys her cool toys and gives her a little handie in the car. It’s messy, it’s questionable, and it’s far more engaging than whatever Oliver and Ciara are pretending is star crossed love.

Eventually, the show delivers its big reveal — and to be fair, it is worth the wait. That said, the drama surrounding it is wildly disproportionate. Who gives a name like The River End Killer to a teenager who only killed one child? By the time the truth comes out, the show has conditioned us to expect a full-blown serial killer, so the reality feels oddly… deflated.

Ciara’s sister (Megan Stott) doesn’t help ground things either. She exists as a sort of narrative Swiss Army knife, ready to be whatever the plot needs at any given moment. One minute she’s the no-nonsense big sister, the next she’s threatening quack therapists, then she’s ready to kill a man for her siblings, knows exactly where to find a gun, and somehow, she also knows how to commit the perfect crime. She’s everything all at once.

By the time we reach the finale, the show seems far more interested in tying everything up neatly than sitting with the consequences of what’s happened. Nearly everyone gets a happy ending; except, poor Elliot (Alfredo Narciso), who somehow manages to lose three loves through death or abandonment.

Based on the book of the same name, 56 Days is less gritty thriller and more fairytale crime drama, wrapped up in a pretty bow and gently shipped off to la-la land.

TL;DR: Should you watch 56 Days on Prime Video?
It's in no way groundbreaking TV but its entertaining enough.

★★☆☆☆