Changing of the guard time: “The Bear” is no longer the most anxiety-inducing restaurant drama on TV. Netflix’s “Black Rabbit” (out Sept. 18) serves up high blood pressure for an appetizer, heart palpitations for an entree, and a panic attack for dessert. Stress compounds like the interest on the gambling debt racked up by Vince, the resentful drifter who floats back into the life of his younger brother Jake to create chaos at the worst possible time. Bad decisions and bad karma pile up faster than dirty dishes.
And yet the series is eminently watchable, at times even addictive. This is largely due to the chemistry of Jason Bateman, who channels his smarm into Vince’s consummate dirtbag, and Jude Law, who fills Jake with a puffed-up swagger that can’t keep the hell hounds off his trail. But “Black Rabbit” also knows that the anxiety itself is a selling point. We watch the same way we might doom scroll on a smart phone, unable to look away toward a brighter option.
Tightly written (although, like most eight-hour series, a little too long), thick with a contemporary downtown New York atmosphere that conjures both glamour and scuzz, “Black Rabbit” is less concerned with what goes on in the kitchen than with the moral decay that wafts through the hot restaurant/nightspot that gives the show its name, an upscale dive with an exclusive clientele. To be even peripherally associated with this joint means untenable compromise; to own the place, as Jake does, means doing the wrong thing nearly every step of the way. Vince might be Jake’s cross to bear, his instigator of doom, but the dirtbag at least seems to realize he’s a dirtbag. Jake, on the other hand, is under the misconception that he sees a good guy staring back from the mirror every morning. All it takes is a strong, ill wind to send the whole illusion crashing down. And Vince is just that wind.
Or, rather, he’s a black hole, the kind in which a black rabbit might make itself at home. He sucks up and destroys everything in his path. When we meet him, idling away in a Reno casino, he stumbles into the kind of dumb, violent crime that follows him like a shadow. Desperate to leave town, he calls Jake, who should know better than to listen, and returns to New York, which he left behind a few years earlier for many good reasons. Jake is making moves, getting ready to open up a fancier spot with his star chef, Roxie (Amaka Okafor). But he’s also his brother’s keeper, much as he’d rather resign the position. Vince was the one who conceived of the Black Rabbit. He figures he’s owed a safe harbor. And Jake, try as he might, just can’t deny him.
The adjective “dark” is often used to vague and excessive effect, but it really applies here. As in, the screen is so dark I can’t quite make out who or what I’m looking at. The characters in “Black Rabbit” operate in perpetual shadow and obfuscation; they lie and they backstab and try to game the facts when they get their hands stuck in the cookie jar. And when they can’t do that, they write a check. Jake covets Estelle (Cleopatra Coleman), his interior designer and the girlfriend of his best pal and investor, the pop star Wes (Sopé Dirisu). There’s also a wealthy artist, Jules (John Ales), who preys on female staff. With few exceptions, these aren’t very nice people.
You almost have to admire the honesty of the out-and-out gangsters among them. Like Joe Mancuso, to whom Vince owes $140,000. (Vince’s biggest error: betting on the Knicks. It’s OK, Vince. Many others have made this mistake.) Mancuso is unforgiving. He’s also deaf, and played by the deaf actor Troy Kotsur (who won an Oscar for his performance in “CODA”). You don’t often get to see a crime kingpin lashing out at his underlings (Forrest Weber and Chris Coy) in sign language. Weber, too, is a striking presence, an aspiring tough guy who, like Vince, feels unappreciated. His coiled physicality and thin-skinned demeanor make for an unpredictable combination.
“Black Rabbit” has a little too much plot to be smoothly contained within its running time, but even the later episodes carry a steady hum of menace and desperation. The chronological scrambling of events is executed with a touch of subtlety, enhancing the drama without trying to become a twisty puzzle. The score, by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans, pulsates with ominous intent. The series also makes for a good binge; you feel yourself queuing up each successive episode with a shudder, eager to see how bad it can get for these screw-ups.
Though set in the here and now, “Black Rabbit” conjures a downtown Manhattan just as treacherous as the 1998 version featured in the new movie “Caught Stealing.” But that film wears its grit out in the open. The denizens of “Black Rabbit” aspire to something more shiny and fashionable, even as the joint rots from within.
BLACK RABBIT
Starring Jude Law, Jason Bateman, Troy Kotsur, Cleopatra Coleman, Sopé Dirisu, Amaka Okafor, Forrest Weber, Chris Coy, and Abbey Lee. On Netflix Sept. 18.
Chris Vognar can be reached at chris.vognar@globe.com. Follow him on Instagram at @chrisvognar and on Bluesky at chrisvognar.bsky.social.