HBO produces something of a nightMare

Are you watching “Mare of Easttown,” the new HBO limited series on Sunday night? I was — until episode 4.

I’m a writer, and although my forte is nonfiction, I know when fiction writers are just pulling it out of their ass. And “Mare’s” writers already have hit the wall. The show has more red herrings than a delicatessen.

Around here, because the show is supposedly set in Delaware County, most of the buzz has been around the local accent — is it close to correct or not?

This is a clear case of seeing the trees and not the forest. The discussion of ahksent ignores the jaw-dropping portrayal of Delaware County denizens as imagined by Beverly Hills writers. 

What you are seeing here, basically, is a show that could be titled “White Trash of Southeast Pennsylvania.”

If you haven’t been watching the show, the following synopsis won’t mean a thing to you. If you are a fan, it won’t mean a thing to you, but it’s my website and I’ve gotta get this off my chest. 

The other buzz about the show is the star — Kate Winslet playing a foul-mouthed frump chic police detective in a town so small she either knows or is related to everyone she meets. And almost everyone she meets is damaged one way or another. (“Saturday Live Night” satirized “Mare” Saturday night.)

“Mare” checks a lot of boxes: Divorce. Brain cancer. Lesbians. Interracial sex. Pedophile(?) priest. Suicide. Homicide. Kidnapping. Police misconduct. Opioid addiction. I expect vampires next week.

Mare (short for Maryanne, or Mary, the credits don’t say) was a champion high school basketball player whose son committed suicide which maybe led to her marriage breaking up, and maybe to her daughter as a lesbian now dating an African-American DJ.

The writers introduced an unlikely romantic interest in the form of a guy who wrote one novel and now teaches and — zowie — Sunday night Mare’s partner wants to date her. I guess the possible pedophile priest is next.

Mare is currently on paid leave after she planted heroin from the police evidence room in the car of her dead son’s girl friend (an addict) to prevent her from getting custody of Mare’s grandson, who lives with her, along with Mare’s mother, who hides ice cream in frozen vegetable bags in the freezer.

Believe me, there’s more.

But they have so abused the rule of suspension of disbelief, I can believe no more.

Ketch yer lader, Mare.