“My name is Marty Kaan, and I’m a management consultant. Every week, my team and I go somewhere and talk people into thinking they really, really need us.”

With that kind of opener, I was fully expecting House of Lies to be a darker, edgier, less ethical Leverage.  The sort of show where the main character is a loveable rogue whose failings are excusable because he’s just so gosh-darn charming. That notion was quickly dispelled, however, the minute the pilot opens with Marty (Don Cheadle) waking up in bed with a woman and freaking out about it.

Yes, the found footage technique: the first person narrative technique designed to give the audience the impression of the film being pieced together from a series of video recordings usually left behind by characters now believed dead. The technique existed before but became internationally popular when the film The Blair Witch Project was released. In recent years, the technique has been used more and more with such films Paranormal Activity and Chronicle; these are examples of when the found footage technique works; well, you can add V/H/S to that list.

“Sometimes it’s better not to touch your dreams, take it from someone who knows.”

What a difference three years makes. That’s right, the beloved series decides to return with a flash forward three years ahead, giving the series a new and fresh outlook with some new faces and a few familiar ones as well. The time may have changed, but thankfully Hank Moody sure hasn’t, still managing to get himself in all kinds of trouble despite his best intentions. This year he must deal with an unstable ex-girlfriend, his daughter’s philandering boyfriend, and keeping his extremely volatile new client from finding about the tryst he had with the client’s girlfriend; it can only happen to Hank Moody.

This short-lived UK television series from 1995 is something I had never heard of, and after watching it, I consider it one of the best horror anthologies produced.  Tales from the Crypt, The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits all hold their own place in what they brought to the small screen, each with episodes that are given the same reverence we would give a classic film.  What Chiller managed in five episodes left me wanting so much more; five episodes simply was not enough.