The opening shot of Sleeping Dog lingers on Max Riemelt’s face, his eyes reflecting the cold glow of Berlin’s streetlights. It’s an image that suggests depth, a promise of psychological unraveling and moral complexity. Yet, as the series unfolds, this initial intrigue gives way to a narrative that feels more aimless than revelatory.

Created by Franziska Meletzky and Stephan Lacant, Sleeping Dog is a German crime drama that follows Mike Atlas (Riemelt), a former homicide detective who has succumbed to homelessness following a traumatic event. When a new death forces him to revisit an old case he believed was closed, Atlas is pulled back into the world of police work—only to find himself fighting not just the establishment but his own fractured mind.

Riemelt’s performance anchors the series with a raw, haunting presence. His portrayal of Atlas captures the essence of a man broken by grief and guilt, his physical decay mirroring the moral rot of the city around him. Riemelt conveys Atlas’s desperation and vulnerability without resorting to melodrama, making his character both compelling and deeply flawed. Luise von Finckh as Jule Andergast and Carlo Ljubek as Luka Zaric deliver equally nuanced performances, adding layers of corruption and redemption that enrich the narrative.

The series’ greatest strength lies in its visual storytelling. Berlin’s neon-lit streets serve as a character unto themselves, their reflections and shadows amplifying the psychological tension. The cinematography is sharp, with close-ups that linger on characters’ faces, emphasizing their internal struggles. The production design is equally effective, capturing the gritty underbelly of the city in a way that feels authentic and immersive.

However, Sleeping Dog falters in its pacing and narrative structure. The series spends too much time wallowing in Atlas’s despair without giving his investigation enough urgency or clarity. The mystery itself is muddled, with plot twists that feel contrived rather than earned. Scenes of introspection drag when they should propel the story forward, making the series feel meandering at times.

The show’s attempt to balance procedural elements with character-driven drama results in a disjointed experience. While Riemelt’s performance and the visual style are undeniably strong, the narrative lacks the cohesion to fully engage. The mystery is convoluted, and the pacing feels uneven, with too many scenes that serve little purpose other than to emphasize Atlas’s mental state.

The originality of Sleeping Dog lies in its setting and tone, offering a bleaker, more existential take on the crime genre than typical German procedurals. However, its reliance on well-worn tropes of the troubled detective and institutional corruption doesn’t push the genre into new territory. The music, while atmospheric, sometimes overstays its welcome, leaning too heavily on moody synths that blur rather than heighten tension.

Comparisons to other crime dramas are inevitable, but Sleeping Dog struggles to stand out in a crowded field. Series like Dark and Babylon Berlin offer more compelling narratives and deeper explorations of their themes. While Sleeping Dog has its moments, it ultimately feels like a missed opportunity—a series with strong individual elements but lacking the cohesion to fully engage.

Themes of trauma and redemption are central to Sleeping Dog, but the series often struggles to explore them in a meaningful way. Atlas’s journey is meant to be one of self-discovery and justice, but the narrative frequently sidelines these themes in favor of convoluted plot twists. The series’ attempt to blend psychological drama with procedural crime-solving results in a disjointed experience that fails to fully satisfy either genre.

For viewers who enjoy crime dramas with a psychological edge, Sleeping Dog offers some compelling moments. However, it may frustrate those looking for a tightly plotted mystery or a clear resolution. The series’ strengths lie in its performances and visual style, but these are not enough to overcome its narrative shortcomings.

In the end, Sleeping Dog is a series with potential that never quite fulfills its promise. Riemelt’s performance and the visual style are undeniably strong, but the narrative falters under the weight of its own ambition. The mystery is convoluted, the pacing uneven, and the character development often feels superficial.

Sleeping Dog is for viewers who enjoy crime dramas with a psychological edge, but it may frustrate those looking for a tightly plotted mystery or a clear resolution.