Rake: “Cannibal” (Episode 1.04)

Ever on the lookout for a way to trim his debt, Kee asks his brilliant (if possibly insane) client for an investment tip. The client, Graham, suggests Kee load up on “Australian iron ore”—reminding us that Rake began life down under as a similar series, although one with a rougher, less likable lead. Peter Duncan, the creator of the original series and guiding force of the U.S. version, may be encoding a message to his masters at Fox: the closer the American show hews to its raw Australian origins, the better.
“Cannibal” was the original pilot of Rake, but was swapped out with a tamer, more winsome episode, apparently because Fox feared Kee’s bad habits (and his anthropophagic client) might turn off viewers. While I’ve been hoping for more willingness to work dark from Rake, this episode’s advantage is not so much that it has more edge, but that it doesn’t show the same compulsion to apologize for that edge by making Kee pitiable.
With a willingness to let Kee be Kee, “Cannibal” integrates Rake’s elements much more confidently. Both he and the show know themselves better. The necessary rawness lies less in the show’s tone than in Kee’s emotional exposure and his own awareness of his failures. If the show’s a little tougher going, it’s also much funnier, in no small part due to that honesty.
The American show may indeed need to diverge from the Australian version, but that’s more about tailoring the show to its star than tailoring the show to its audience. Rake stands or falls with Greg Kinnear, so if he’s not as brooding or brutal as he could be, then there has to be another way to locate the genial, charming Kee in the disaster of his life. A terrible person doing terrible things can be gripping, if not especially surprising. But there’s something naggingly compelling in an emotionally unexceptional human being doing terrible emotional things.
Mikki sees this truth in Kee, pointing out that he is, in a sense, too weak to be weak. The swashbuckling sinner he sets out to be is undercut by his need to be liked or understood. He didn’t visit Mikki to indulge in a sex fantasy he can’t have with the other women in his life; as she observes, his fantasy is just to have a female friend with no complications. That image of Kee—his essentially nice-guy impulses compromised by his carousing—fits Kinnear’s persona.
Less clueless than caught up in his compulsions, Kee even achieves a few moments of Zen. Maddy accuses him of carrying on with their son’s English teacher, just when the kid has “finally found a teacher he enjoys.” Kee, realizing he’ll have to take a bullet for Finn (who’s actually having the affair), offers a lawyerly “I’ll concede that.” But he also knows he’s not up to resisting Maddy’s grilling for long, so he persuades Finn to confess.