Ever since the first photos of Lily James and Sebastian Stan as Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee dropped, fans have been dying to know more about Pam And Tommy.
Just how much will they be willing to dip into the turbulent relationship between the Baywatch babe and the Mötley Crüe rockstar? Will it be as eerily accurate as the imagery of their lead two actors?
It's been touted with the tagline "the greatest love story ever sold", and they're not wrong. Even Pamela, despite her volatile relationship with Tommy, declared him the "love of her life" in 2018.
But that tagline is indicative too of some of the grimier aspects of Pam and Tommy's relationship that they've opted to gloss over. In real life, their relationship was less driving off into the sunset, and more driving off a cliff. If you know this, then you may take exception to the creative choices the show makes.
But for what it's worth, it seems like the team really have put time and effort into making sure the story of the tape, specifically, is as note perfect as they could get. While the real Pamela and Tommy's refusal to attach themselves to the project feels somewhat icky, given the focus around lives being invaded without consent, Pam And Tommy feels like a love letter to a couple who never stood a chance.
They were fireworks – their love burned bright, exploded quickly, and then had no choice but to burn out.
In Pam And Tommy, showrunner Robert Siegel and a director team including I, Tonya's Craig Gillespie recount a tale of double standards within the public eye. It is about the sex tape and its impact, not the intricacies of a celebrity couple.
Every character has motivations you can understand even if you don't agree with them, and are just blinkered enough that they don't realise what they've done until it is far, far too late.
The show also does a good job of showing the sex tape for what it is – a runaway train that blew up beyond everyone's expectations, with the growing evolution of the then barely-used internet. Pam and Tommy were collateral damage in a social experiment about how toxic the world wide web could be.
Sebastian Stan does an incredible job of playing the sexed-up, bravado-driven rockstar, whose ego overtakes him as his career begins to sag in comparison to his star-on-the-rise new wife. His need for constant positive affirmation is as ludicrous as his planned $20,000 love-nest bedroom plans.
Fuelled by sex, drugs and rock n roll, he's also a lovestruck puppy when it comes to the women in his life. Which is a problem, when the woman in your life is one of the most desired in the world. It makes him controlling, and it makes their relationship toxic.
But while much has already been made of Sebastian and his giant, talking penis prosthetic (and let's not deny this, it's a massive 'talking point' in the second episode), it's really Lily James' portrayal of Pamela that provides the heart of the eight-episode tale. The actress truly nails every single level of the highly passionate – almost fantasy-driven – and constantly objectified actress, whose look is sexualised just enough at every turn, whether she wants it or not.
The team seem to have (rightly) handled Pamela with kid gloves, giving the fake version of her perhaps a level of respect that the real woman was never (and continues to still not be) afforded. They depict her as a pawn in a world full of male egos that need to feel more alpha than they actually are, and cement her as smarter than your assumed bubbly blonde.
There are scenes from the Baywatch set dedicated to how much bum cheek they can get away with showing, with gawking producers behind the monitors staring and judging as they ask a costume designer to pull that iconic red swimsuit just a little higher at the bottom and just a little bit lower at the top.
Businessmen hire her to appear at events and tell her to her face about exactly how they sexualise her, and she has to smile and nod like that's not unnerving. She falls for bad boys and is addicted to the sense of danger they bring, before the crushing fallout.
But Tommy, despite no doubt initially enticed by the party girl in a silver dress, sees beyond the facade and gives her the kind of passionate and fiery love she's dreamed of. He pursues her and charms her to the point they get married after a whirlwind trip to Mexico.
But once back to reality in Los Angeles, things quickly start to get real.
Lily does her best work in the later episodes when she's being repeatedly forced to fight against a system that believes she has no right to her privacy or body. As light-hearted as the show starts, there are scenes that are truly difficult to watch as she's grilled under oath about her magazine shoots and whether they mean that an extremely private and intimate moment should therefore be up for grabs.
Her struggle to be understood or listened to, even by Tommy who doesn't understand the difference in violation between her and him, can be felt in your gut – and that is solely down to Lily's performance. It's clichéd to say it, but there are moments you truly forget you're watching an actress in a role.
You just see Pamela, trapped in a situation she never wanted to be part of. It's in Lily's portrayal that the lines between reality and fiction truly begin to blur.
It's just such, such a shame that the real Pamela has wanted no part in it, making the whole project feel like yet another violation into her personal life.
As for the rest of the cast, Seth Rogen does a stand-up job of the hypocritical but delightfully empty-headed sex-tape thief, Rand Gauthier, whose mission to screw over Tommy Lee is so poorly thought out that Tommy is the only one that comes off even marginally better for it.
So blinded by male privilege that he thinks a sex tape will damage Tommy's credibility that he doesn't stop to think until far too late about the irreparable impact it would have on Pamela, whose reputation is diminished to being a punchline.
Instead he waxes lyrical about how unfair it is that other people are selling the tapes without cutting him in on the profit, while running from thugs at his door who want the video back.
It's almost genius then that his estranged, queer, porn star, soon-to-be ex-wife (played by Orange Is The New Black's Taylor Schilling) becomes the audience surrogate at points, where showing isn't enough and the screenwriters want to point out, in specific and no uncertain terms, that what he did was incredibly f**ked up.
Nick Offerman is also gloriously gross as porn producer 'Uncle Miltie' Milton Ingley, who is the only person in this scenario brazenly upfront about wanting anything he can get from the sale – mainly sex and cocaine.
The show has arrived at the right time for what feels like a '90s revival period in television, with Yellowjackets, upcoming Fresh Prince reboot Bel-Air and even the new Scream providing nostalgic throwbacks for those who lived through the era.
But what would a '90s revival be without its greatest scandal?
Pam And Tommy is a fun, just-judgemental-enough thrill ride from start to finish. It may have a coat of gloss to reality that could paint a bedroom, but hey, that's Hollywood for you, and that doesn't mean some of the gritty bits weren't left in for extra bite. Just maybe not quite enough.
Regardless, it's personally the first real must-watch show of 2022.
Pam and Tommy premieres on Wednesday, February 2, and streams weekly on Hulu in the US and STAR on Disney+ in the UK.
