‘Secret City’ On Netflix Is An Especially Eerie Instance Of Life Imitating Art

Gather ’round, friends, and I’ll tell you a scary story. It’s a tale of political intrigue, in which right-wing politicians in a Western nation (culturally, if not geographically) conspire with the intelligence apparatus of authoritarians abroad to undermine democratic institutions and maneuver themselves into power. This story has it all: International hackers, compromising video of illicit liaisons between politicians and secret foreign spies, deep-state chicanery, romantic relationships between reporters and intelligence agents, false-flag terrorist attacks, a trans woman risking her life to expose abuses by the military-intelligence apparatus of which she’s a part, honeytraps, rampant xenophobia and racism, indefinite detention, allegations of fake news, attacks on the press, oppression of dissent…

Wait, you say you’ve heard this one before? And you haven’t watched Secret City, the Australian political thriller from Summer 2016 now playing in Summer 2018 in an American Netflix account near you?

In one of the most remarkable cases of art not imitating life but anticipating it, Secret City‘s short, sweet six-episode first season plays like a prophecy about the next two years of life in these United States, issued by a Canberra Cassandra who won’t be heard until it’s too late. And after the events that unfolded between America and Russia this week, it feels more relevant than ever — just swap a few proper nouns and serve hot.

Based on the 2012 and 2014 novels The Marmalade Files and The Mandarin Code by Chris Uhlmann and Steve Lewis, Secret City stars Fringe and Mindhunter veteran Anna Torv as investigative journalist Harriet “Harry” Dunkley. Harry’s just been on the losing end of a lawsuit over a story she reported on the misappropriation of union funds by a powerful politician. That politician is Defence Minister Mal Paxton (Daniel Wylie), leader of the left wing of the governing coalition led by Prime Minister Martin Toohey (Alan Dale).

As the story begins, Harry’s newspaper, like the rest of the country, is fixated on the fate of Australian student-activist Sabine Hobbs (Alice Chaston), who set herself on fire in the middle of Beijing to protest the oppression of dissidents and minority ethnic groups by the Chinese government and has been sentenced to twenty years in a Chinese prison for “terrorism.” Relations between the two countries are at an all-time low as a result, and the new American ambassador (Mekhi Phifer) is among the voices calling for the Australian government in Canberra to take a hard line.

When Harry stumbles across the murder of one of Sabine’s fellow exchange students and receives an unmarked envelope containing photos of Paxton getting arrested in China two decades earlier — a scandal that has been completely covered up — she’s thrust right into the middle of the crisis. When her phone gets hacked and the SIM card the murdered student was carrying needs decoding, Harry turns to trans intelligence agent Kim Gordon (cis male actor Damon Herriman), who was her ex-husband prior to coming out, for help.

At first, all the signs point to a conspiracy orchestrated by Paxton, whose conciliatory tone toward China puts him at odds with the government’s conservative Attorney General Catriona Bailey (Jacki Weaver). But as Harry and Kim keep pulling apart and weaving together the case’s many threads, a different pattern emerges, one that points to a secret alliance of between authoritarians in both Australia and China. The plot is designed to maneuver secretly Beijing-friendly politicians into power in Canberra, and deliberately stoke tensions in order to beef up military spending and increase surveillance of dissidents and journalists in both countries.

It should be obvious, but you don’t have to go all-in on the idea that Russia and its leader Vladimir Putin are the root of all American evil, any more than the actions of a few Chinese and Australian spies are enough to account for all the pernicious political strains they tap into to manipulate affairs in Secret City. The point is that unencumbered nationalism, unchecked intelligence and surveillance agencies, and unscrupulous politicians are a toxic mix no matter when or where they come together, fictionally or not.

If there’s a silver lining to Secret City‘s dark morality play, it’s that the creeps and caudillos responsible for all the murder and manipulation on the show are far more competent than the ones calling the shots here IRL. They’re better at damage control, at keeping the most damning details out of the spotlight, and at silencing their enemies before they can run their mouths. Then again, perhaps that’s a bad thing: Secret City‘s characters count on the idea that if their actions get exposed, their political careers are over. Comparable figures in the current administration and among their cult-like supporters don’t seem to give a damn what comes out, so long as their guy remains on top. Sometimes truth really is stranger than fiction.

Sean T. Collins (@theseantcollins) writes about TV for Rolling Stone, Vulture, The New York Times, and anyplace that will have him, really. He and his family live on Long Island.

Watch Secret City on Netflix