De Lestrade (Vincent Vermignon) and his producer, Denis Poncet (Frank Feys), are not merely observers here but participants in the narrative, at odds over Peterson’s innocence or guilt. Their editor goes even further, falling utterly for the man she comes to know frame by frame. How, Campos asks, can that not have swayed the story the doc told?

Colin Firth is superb as Michael Peterson, a novelist, a narcissist and a bisexual (a not insignificant detail in conservative North Carolina). He’s a proven liar too, having falsely claimed to have been awarded a Purple Heart in the Vietnam War – but does that make him a killer?

As Kathleen, a high-flying executive who appears to be falling out of love with her husband, Toni Collette gives a convincing voice to a woman who was little more than a series of gruesome forensic photographs in the doc.

Fellow Australians Olivia DeJonge and Odessa Young are terrific as two of the five children in this complicated blended household. Sophie Turner (Game of Thrones), Dane DeHaan and Patrick Schwarzenegger all breathe real, complex life into the rest of the brood, which appears far less unified here than it did in the doc.

Martha (Young) particularly emerges as a character riven by doubt, wanting to believe the man she calls Dad is innocent, but struggling to reconcile it with the fact not one, but two women in his life have met a terrible end – the other being her biological mother 20 years earlier.

“It is kind of a weird coincidence that we’ve had two moms die at the bottom of the stairs,” she says to Margaret (Turner) at one point.

“So, you think there’s some connection,” asks Margaret, before brushing aside the suspicions with an act of faith, of will, of self-preservation.

“Dad’s been there for us always,” she says. “He didn’t have to take us in, but he did. That’s all that matters, so stop questioning everything.”