I don't mean that as a compliment. More like David Foster Wallace is looking down from heaven saying, 'Told you so.'

Sure, the narrative craft compelling us to binge is skilful. But what does it give us? A story about a person who, in the aftermath of severe trauma, turns both to chess and to pill dependency - and the trances the latter induces are her route to mastery of the former?

Wow. OK, but surely one doesn't have to be moralistic about drugs to know that, even if this were plausible, it's unlikely to end well - or if it does, surely to get to one's true happy ever after, ultimately the crutches must be kicked away, the demons faced and the withdrawal hell fully shouldered.

Is it too much spoiler to say that none of that happens? The fact that it doesn't is the key to the particular storytelling narcotic being peddled here: the trauma is no more than required seasoning, a pro forma yin to the yang of the success fantasy on show, the dark that enables the light of otherwise almost totally untrammelled, world-dominating stellar triumph - complete with dazzling vintage stylings, attractive lovers and friends and ultimately the complete support and submission of all one's heroes. We can, in short, let ourselves deliriously enjoy it because the dark side is being dutifully alluded to, even if it's barely doing anything more than adding to the glamour.

As for the drug addiction, it isn't even really depicted as dark. It's more a perfectly acceptable route into the light, giving the protagonist a superhuman edge in a highly competitive world. Truly, this is a show to validate the Adderall generation.

Strong stuff, then. Watch out for the comedown, kids. And maybe note that being hooked on Netflix content isn't even something you can spuriously romanticise.