God only knows, I wanted to love this show, boy did I ever. The trailers and teasers were very titillating at first glance; piqued the hell out of my curiosity. I decided to read the novel first. Who has a more fecund imagination than horror master Stephen King? It tickles me pink to my stomach when people say they don't like his work. Please. It's like saying Gordon Ramsay can't cook or Art Blakey can't play drums or Twiggy can't model or Wicker Man '73 isn't the greatest film ever made and on and on. I digress, here's my problem with the Outsider, it just won't let you Inside after the 2nd episode. It gets so convoluted, confounding, and completely inaccessible subsequently. I love Jason Bateman and Ben Mendelsohn as actors of the highest degree (the latter is one of the most underrated actors of all-time...check out Bloodline if you don't believe me). Even they can't save this from aggressive mediocrity though. Perhaps a 90 minute film would have done the trick. Brevity is the soul of wit after all. It seems like King adaptations are better served that way, rather than with a turgid 10 episode misadventure. The suspense and mystery, which crescendoed in the first two episodes, irretrievably retards over the Galapagos slow, gray duration of the following eight. Which, again, proves my point that if this was condensed into a fine, concentrated 90 minutes, we may very well of had a winner here. What a profound disappointment this show was. Maybe a cogent argument for television/film not bastardizing every single syllable Mr. King produces. There are other writers out there, you know. I'm sure some of them wouldn't mind at all being bastardized by the ridiculous Mr. Price if the price is right.