The story follows Anna Andrews (played by Tessa Thompson), who has endured a difficult year. Following a family tragedy, she’s separated from her husband, Detective Jack Harper (Jon Bernthal). Her extended absence from work has resulted in her temporary replacement, Lexy (Rebecca Rittenhouse), becoming permanent. However, the murder of a woman in Anna’s hometown of Dahlonega, Georgia prompts her to delve into investigative journalism. Meanwhile, Jack is officially investigating the same crime, and both ex-spouses harbor suspicions about each other.

Oldroyd is the co-showrunner, alongside “ER” producer Dee Johnson, of the six episode Netflix miniseries “His & Hers,” based on a novel by Alice Feeney. He has writing and/or directing credits on almost every episode, and if there’s one thing I can say about Oldroyd based on this and “Eileen” (I haven’t seen his Florence Pugh-led 2016 directorial debut “Lady Macbeth”), it’s that he knows how to pull the rug out from under you. Like the ending of “Eileen,” I remain undecided on whether the final episode of “His & Hers” actually works, but I will not soon forget the insane resolution to the series’ central murder mystery. It doesn’t come out of nowhere — looking back at the first episode, there are just enough hints to make it a possibility — but you still most likely will not see it coming.

Where the ending of “His & Hers” straddles the line between good and bad in an interesting  fashion, most of the show up until that point falls in the much less exciting middle ground of mere mediocrity. Early on in the series, I wasn’t sure I’d even have much to talk about in my review: it’s watchable, with fairly mundane flaws and frustrations holding it back from being anything more than that. After finishing the show … I’m still limited in what I can talk about, given spoiler sensitivities, but there’s a lot I can talk around.

Anna Andrews (Tessa Thompson) has had a rough year. She separated from her husband, police detective Jack Harper (Jon Bernthal), following a family tragedy, and she’s taken such a long mental health break from her job as a news anchor that her temporary replacement Lexy (Rebecca Rittenhouse) is now a permanent one. However, a woman’s murder in her hometown of Dahlonega, Georgia motivates Anna to do some investigative reporting. Jack happens to be officially investigating the same murder — and both exes have reason to be suspicious of one another.

The audience knows the murderer probably can’t be Anna or Jack, but that doesn’t mean they’ll exactly be rooting for either of them. Both of the viewpoint protagonists are deliberately unlikable, prone to making spiteful, manipulative, or just downright stupid decisions. Thompson and Bernthal’s performances can make them interestingly unlikable, to a point, and Anna’s array of personal baggage — including her personal connections to the murder victim, Rachel (Jamie Tisdale) — explains a lot about why she ended up the way she is. However, the scripts’ tendencies toward obvious signpost-y dialogue, of the sort designed to spell things out to viewers only half-paying attention, put a limit on how psychologically convincing the characters can be.

I never found Anna and Jack’s relationship troubles particularly interesting, though they take up a lot of time in the show. Jack’s dunderheaded attempts at trying to look less suspicious kept taking me out of the drama; they’d be more at home in a cringe comedy. The supporting cast is a mixed bag. Jack’s assistant Priya (Sunita Mani) ends up the most compelling presence largely by virtue of being the character with the most sense and professional competence. The worst in show dishonor goes to Chris Bauer as Rachel’s pizza mogul husband Clyde; I’m not sure if bad acting or bad writing is more to blame, but not a single line of his sounded like an actual human being.

As its mystery evolves, “His & Hers” touches on a number of serious subjects, including grief, domestic violence, marital infidelity, racial issues, caring for a parent with dementia, high school bullying, sexual assault, justifications for revenge, and the nature of truth. I can’t go too deep into how it addresses any of these issues for fear of spoilers, but then the show isn’t particularly deep about most of them either. Some topics are just red herrings, while others the show treats as important but doesn’t offer much in the way of meaningful insight. 

It’s not until the final episode where it really becomes clear what this story has actually been about — and the sensationalist way it handles certain issues brings me back to my confused experience with “Eileen.” There are parts of that final episode that had my eyes rolling — one scene is literally a gag from “The Naked Gun” reboot done seriously — and others that made my jaw drop in their audacity. Is it “good” TV? I don’t really think so. Is it worth watching, despite that, for the big surprise ending? Perhaps, if you can handle the sexual violence material leading up to said surprise, and aren’t too bothered by some of the weirder potential implications of said ending.

One last minor observation I didn’t know where else to put in this review: in one scene, Jack asks his sister (Marin Ireland) to put “Sesame Street” on for her daughter Meg (Ellie Rose Sawyer). “That ain’t even on anymore, Einstein,” Zoe replies. Fans knows that “Sesame Street” was never actually taken off the air, despite headlines of a potential cancelation — and the new season launched on Netflix a few months ago. A mistake, or an awkwardly written cross-promotion?

“His & Hers” hits Netflix on January 8.

If you or anyone you know is dealing with domestic abuse or has been a victim of sexual assault, contact the relevant resources below: