The Sticky Review: Margo Martindale's Heist Comedy Is an Engaging Riff on Fargo

In a conceit that its TV spin-off series has continued, the Coen brothers' 1996 film Fargo opens with a straight-faced disclaimer that what you're about to watch "is a true story," that the names have been changed "at the request of the survivors" but the rest told "exactly as it occurred." Fargo, in all its forms, is fiction. The Sticky turns this approach on its head, opening with the warning that "this is absolutely not the true story of The Great Canadian Maple Syrup Heist." Set in 2011, the series is based on a real criminal scheme in which a band of thieves made off with 9,000 barrels worth of maple syrup — a haul worth millions of dollars — by secretly siphoning from the Federation of Maple Syrup Producers' strategic maple syrup reserve. But The Sticky keeps only the real story's broad strokes, letting a funny, fast-paced, and occasionally touching story emerge in which questionably conceived acts of larceny, fumbling detective work, and shady business dealing combine to unleash chaos on a seemingly sleepy corner of Quebec.

Always a welcome presence, Margo Martindale takes a rare starring role as Ruth Landry, a maple syrup farmer who's struggling to make ends meet while running the business alone as her husband lies in a coma after falling from a tree. The odds aren't on her side, particularly after Leonard (Guy Nadon), the head of the maple syrup farmers association, shuts down her farm on a technicality, his smiling face and insistence on following the rules barely disguising his designs on Ruth's land. But Ruth is not one to accept defeat easily or, as she soon proves, without a lot of obscene threats and dramatic acts of vandalism. And there are other forces at work that might swing fortune in her favor, even if it won't be as kind to others.

Ruth's troubles soon start to dovetail with the ambitions of two strikingly different criminals, one just starting out, one deep into what's turned out to be a disappointing career. The first is Remy (Guillaume Cyr), the sole security guard at a maple syrup warehouse who, as the series opens, has entered his 40th year with few prospects, despite the undying affection of his sweet, mink farmer father (Michel Perron). When Remy spots Mike (Chris Diamantopoulos), a slickly dressed out-of-towner, dining out with an attractive woman on his arm and overhears him making plans with his mob bosses back in Boston, he decides to seize the moment, unaware that while Mike looks like a high-ranking gangster, he's not very good at his job. He's landed in Remy's corner of the world by incompetence rather than choice. Together, they hatch a scheme to steal a fortune in syrup. It starts to go awry almost immediately.

7.9

The Sticky

at Prime Video

Like

• Fast pace
• Memorable characters
• Rich performances
• Clever plotting

Dislike

• The season finale feels a bit abrupt

Created by Brian Donovan and Ed Herro, The Sticky shares with Fargo its bumbling criminals, snowy small-town setting, and occasionally exaggerated accents (French-Canadian rather than Minnesotan) but little of its darkness, despite the discovery of a body inside a barrel of syrup in the first episode's opening scene. It's a fleet, funny caper comedy filled with memorable supporting characters, like a Montreal detective played by Suzanne Clément who shows up to investigate a murder with palpable disdain for the small-town cops working the case, only to bumble it in her own way. But it's the richly realized trio of would-be masterminds that really set it apart.

Cyr memorably plays Remy as an innately sweet, none-too-smart operator who finds himself way over his head, while Diamantopoulos' Mike gets an introduction that instantly defines the character: sent to collect from a bar filled with local toughs, he tries to look intimidating and comes this close to pulling it off. But not close enough. It's an ideal bit of casting: Diamantopoulos can look like a tough guy but uses this ability to serve comedic ends, as in an early scene in which Mike tries his hand at ax throwing with little success. He's described by another character as "a douchebag about half as clever as he thinks he is," and that might be generous.

No stranger to comedic instincts herself, Martindale plays Ruth with a combination of aggressiveness, tenderness, and unpredictability. One early moment, in which she dresses down the employee Leonard has sent to shut her down in the harshest terms imaginable, establishes her as a woman not to be messed with, but there's more going on beneath the surface. We never get a glimpse of Ruth's life before her husband's accident, but it's clearly changed her or, at the very least, hardened the uncompromising personality that was always there. In some ways, Ruth is of a piece with tough, potentially violent women Martindale has played in the past on The Americans and Justified, but she gets more space to develop the character here than on those shows. It's nice to see the quintessential character actress (BoJack Horseman has essentially made "character actress" a part of her name) given more time on the stage. 

Martindale doesn't bring a different approach to The Sticky, but she's allowed to explore a broader range. If there's a role in her past that's called on her to drive with reckless abandon and convey a deep concern for a loved one's health, it doesn't come immediately to mind. After this first six-episode season, it's hard to imagine anyone else playing the part, but it almost belonged to Jamie Lee Curtis, who had to leave for scheduling reasons. Curtis remained on as executive producer and instead makes a memorable, late-season appearance in a role best left unspoiled.

The Sticky's cleverly plotted episodes — each an exercise in escalating chaos — fly by for reasons beyond their 30-minute running time, and though it plays at times like a miniseries designed to tell a complete story and call it a day, the season finale leaves the door wide open for more. That's more than welcome. The Sticky may not tell a true story, but it tells a good one.

Premieres: All six episodes premiere on Prime Video on Friday, Dec. 6
Who's in it: Margo Martindale, Chris Diamantopoulos, Guillaume Cyr
Who's behind it: Brian Donovan and Ed Herro
For fans of: Caper comedies, Margo Martindale, Quebec, syrup
How many episodes we watched: 6 of 6