When American student Molly is murdered while studying in London, her roommate, Grace, becomes the prime suspect in the crime. As the investigation unfolds, the viewers will question whether she's a naive, young girl whose poor decisions are being magnified under the ruthless glare of the British tabloids, or whether she's a sociopath who brutally murdered her friend.
Just when you think that there's no possible way for the show to pack anything more into the premiere, just when you think things can't get any crazier, the series doubles down on the twists.
Its characters are predictably written, the dialogue is average at best, and Grace in particular does so many dumb things that it's hard to care about what happens to her.
Despite being quite literally pulled from one of the more salacious international crime stories of the past decade, Guilt can't stop adding jokers to its house of cards, continually knocking the whole structure down in a tizzy of frenetic gamesmanship.
Come for the stupid, sexy young things making bad choices; stay, if you must, for the weird, outta-left-field guilty pleasure of an oddball lawyer who waltzes in.
Guilt is such a mess of feigned and failed authenticity and feigned and failed vulgarity that it's most uncomplicated pleasure comes from watching Zane basically play a hybrid of James Spader's characters from The Practice and The Blacklist.
From the opening minutes of Guilt, Freeform... has got its hooks in with a juicy murder mystery. Now and then, for no apparent plot reason, there is a sex scene set to pop-lovemaking music. The whole thing is fabulous, as in utterly unrealistic
While there was plenty of story to be told in the pilot episode not to mention plenty of suspects for whom to point a finger at as the culprit, the series felt a little overdone, a little too much soap and not enough drama, a little too predictable.
