You, season 4 review: it’s totally preposterous but this murder drama is still dangerously addictive

Penn Badgley: crazy name, crazy guy. You (Netflix), the glossy thriller series he produces and stars in, is even crazier. It’s soapy, schlocky and preposterously plotted. The hammy dialogue verges on self-parody. Yet by sheer force of charisma and a salesman’s chutzpah, Badgley somehow makes it addictively watchable. This daft drama is played with such a straight face that it becomes wildly entertaining.

As this fourth series begins, serial killer Joe Goldberg (Badgley) has fled California, where he killed his wife, burned down their house and left his infant son with a neighbour. As you do. Worryingly for us Britons, he’s moved to London, masquerading as a literature professor. This cunning disguise involves wearing tweed jackets and occasionally quoting Edgar Allen Poe.

He’s soon sucked into a clique of “aristo-brat” socialites, reminiscent of Donna Tartt’s The Secret History. Or, indeed Badgley’s previous show, Gossip Girl. Numbed by drink and drugs, these nepo-babies are spoilt, snobbish and downright insufferable. A murderer dubbed “the ‘Eat the Rich’ killer” starts bumping them off and Joe finds himself framed by an unknown foe who knows his true identity and past crimes. The hunter becomes the hunted in a self-referential whodunit packed with plot twists and tense set pieces.

The action unfolds in a Richard Curtis-fied version of London: the way that Joe can turn a corner in east London and suddenly be in Piccadilly will give geographical pedants conniptions. But barbed wit means You gets away with such implausibilities and the odd tasteless flourish.

The UK setting means home-grown actors joining the cast and trying not to look embarrassed. Charlotte Ritchie (Ghosts, Call the Midwife) lends spiky credibility as Joe’s latest obsession. There are roles for EastEnders alumnus Tilly Keeper, Ackley Bridge’s excellent Amy-Leigh Hickman and craggy veteran Sean Pertwee, growling Cockney-isms like he’s wandered in from a Guy Ritchie film.

This 10-part season drops in two halves. Five episodes stream from February 9, followed by five more (including Badgley’s directorial debut) on March 9. I don’t usually agree with the notion of “guilty pleasures” but if they do exist, this ludicrously enjoyable romp is certainly one.