A few years ago, the ‘dark academia’ aesthetic took flight on TikTok and beyond. Think sombre tweeds, leather-bound books, wood-panelled libraries and atmospherically low lighting. Mysterious author Donna Tartt was the trend’s godhead and her 1992 novel The Secret History was its bible. The book’s resurgence led to a spate of belated imitators, though none, of course, could recapture the original’s beguiling mix of highfalutin references and potboiler intrigue.
The endearingly daft Prime Target moves things on a little. It’s sort of SparkNotes academia: simpler, more accessible; a streamlined version of something that was pretty streamlined anyway. But, God, what a lot of fun it is. Leo Woodall – yes, the dreamy Dexter from One Day – plays Edward Brooke, a gifted Maths undergraduate at the University Of Cambridge. When his grouchy tutor (David Morrissey) invites him over for dinner, the Prof’s equally academic wife (Sidse Babett Knudsen) shows Ed some markings found on a wall after a recent bombing in Baghdad.
Our young genius recognises a mathematical pattern in the etchings, becomes fantastically animated and, for reasons that are slightly hard to follow (perhaps because they don’t make much sense), reckons he’s unlocked a secret formula to life itself. It’s some nonsense to do with prime numbers that, unbeknownst to Ed, could bring down every computer on the planet. Alas, there’s a shadowy cabal that, keen to keep this revelation under wraps, monitors the trio via hidden cameras at the university and even the Professors’ home. Luckily for the secret organisation, no-one in Cambridge apparently ever changes their smoke detectors or the jig would have been up long ago.
Anyway, the footage is being watched by lackeys who are clueless as to what they’re actually monitoring: after logging anything that might be suspicious, they can clock off and enjoy the sunshine in Cassis, France, where they’re stationed. This sounds like a great gig but when lackey Taylah (Quintessa Swindell) sees something she shouldn’t and begins to ask questions that might be best left alone, she, too, becomes a prime target (geddit?).
It’s all so absurd, it would be risible if you didn’t sense that the series’ creator, former Sherlock writer Steve Thompson, is at least half in on the joke. By the time Ed is diligently typing the words “prime numbers” into the University Of Cambridge library archive, only to find that – dun dun dunnnn – every text on the subject has been removed, the show’s tipped well over into camp.
Prime Target works because Thompson keeps several compelling subplots spinning simultaneously, while the whole thing looks drop-dead gorgeous. Cleverly, one section of the drama runs four days behind the main action, which somehow never becomes confusing. It’s refreshing, too, that Ed’s queer sexuality is incidental to the story, rather than a focal point. But wait a minute: can he really trust dishy bartender Adam (Fra Fee, with whom Woodall shares palpable chemistry)?
That’s the kind of question that will keep you coming back to this silly-smart puzzle of a programme. It’s A Beautiful Mind meets Sherlock, or perhaps The Traitors with a library card. Yes, it’s pure hokum jammed with lines such as, “Math nerds are probably the most dangerous people on the planet!”, but if you can subtract a fairly large amount of disbelief, you’ve cracked the code.
‘Prime Target’ is out January 22 on Apple TV+