Ron Perlman has a face built for intensity. You know it from Sons of Anarchy or Hellboy, but in the TV series Hand of God, that intensity goes somewhere truly bizarre. Honestly, when this show first dropped on Amazon Prime Video back in 2014 (with the full first season arriving in 2015), people didn't know what to make of it. It’s gritty. It’s sweaty. It’s deeply uncomfortable. It follows Pernell Harris, a powerful, corrupt judge who suffers a mental breakdown—or a spiritual awakening, depending on who you ask—after his son attempts suicide.
Pernell starts hearing voices. Specifically, he thinks he’s hearing the voice of God through his comatose son, PJ. This isn’t a "feel-good" religious show. Far from it. It’s a neo-noir thriller that drags you through the mud of San Vicente, a fictional California city where everyone is dirty.
The Raw Power of Pernell Harris
Watching Ron Perlman play Pernell Harris is like watching a car crash in slow motion. He’s a "Maximum Bob" type of judge—hardline, arrogant, and untouchable. But then he’s naked in a fountain, getting baptized by a shady storefront preacher named Reverend Joel Wyatt, played by Julian Morris.
The contrast is jarring.
One minute he's in a bespoke suit wielding legal power, and the next, he’s convinced that a series of "visions" are divine commands to hunt down the man who raped his daughter-in-law. It’s vigilante justice fueled by religious mania. Or is it? That’s the hook. The TV series Hand of God never really tells you if Pernell is actually chosen or just suffering from a psychotic break triggered by trauma.
Dana Delany plays his wife, Crystal Harris. She is fantastic. She’s the anchor, trying to keep their social status intact while her husband loses his mind. She doesn't buy the "God" talk for a second. Their dynamic is the heart of the show’s domestic tension. It’s a marriage built on power and secrets, now crumbling under the weight of a tragedy they can’t fix.
Why Critics Hated It (And Why Fans Stayed)
The show didn't have an easy ride. Metacritic and Rotten Tomatoes scores were... let's say, unkind. Critics called it "convoluted" and "overly dark." But there’s a specific kind of viewer who loves this stuff. If you like Ray Donovan or the darker parts of The Shield, this show hits that exact vein.
It’s about the "Hand of God" church, which feels more like a cult or a pyramid scheme than a place of worship. It targets the desperate.
"I’m not a crazy person. I’m a person who’s been woken up." — Pernell Harris
That line basically sums up the entire character arc. He isn't seeking redemption in the traditional sense; he's seeking a way to justify his own violence.
The supporting cast is where the show really finds its footing. Andre Royo—bubbles from The Wire—is incredible here as the mayor, Robert "Bobo" Boston. He’s Pernell’s best friend, but their relationship is purely transactional. Watching them navigate a massive real estate deal called "The Brooks" while Pernell is off chasing ghosts is a masterclass in political maneuvering.
Then there’s KD.
Garret Dillahunt plays KD, a born-again sociopath and ex-con who becomes Pernell’s "fist." If Pernell hears a voice telling him to hurt someone, KD is the one who does the hurting. Dillahunt plays him with this terrifying, wide-eyed sincerity. He genuinely believes he’s doing God’s work, which makes his capacity for violence even more chilling.
The Comatose Son and the Ethics of Grief
The central plot device—PJ Harris lying in a hospital bed—is the show's most controversial element. The TV series Hand of God uses PJ as a conduit. Pernell spends hours by the bed, listening to the rhythmic hiss of the ventilator. He starts interpreting the sounds as messages.
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It’s a brutal depiction of grief.
Most shows handle suicide and coma with soft lighting and sad piano music. This show handles it with lawsuits, family infighting, and a father who refuses to sign a DNR because he thinks his son is a divine radio station. Alona Tal plays Jocelyn, PJ’s wife, who just wants to let him go. The legal battle over PJ’s life is actually more compelling than the vigilante stuff sometimes. It feels real. It feels like the messy, ugly legal battles that happen when a powerful family is torn apart.
Understanding the San Vicente Landscape
The setting is a character itself. San Vicente feels like a place where the sun is always too bright and the shadows are too deep. It’s a city on the verge of a massive corporate takeover. The "Hand of God" isn't just a church; it's a player in the local economy.
Creator Ben Watkins (who worked on Burn Notice) clearly wanted to explore how religion and power intersect in a modern American city. It’s not about faith in a vacuum. It’s about how faith is used as a tool for leverage.
Why the Show Ended After Two Seasons
Amazon didn't officially "cancel" it in the traditional way, but they announced the second season would be the last. There was a shift in Amazon’s strategy at the time. They were moving away from these niche, high-budget character studies toward broader, more "global" hits.
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But season two actually brings some closure.
It dives deeper into the trial of Pernell Harris. He finally has to face the consequences of his "divine" actions. The hallucinations get worse. The stakes get higher. The ending of the TV series Hand of God is polarizing. Some think it left too many questions on the table, while others felt the ambiguity was the whole point. If we knew for sure if God was talking to him, the tension would vanish. The show thrives in the gray area between madness and miracles.
Realism vs. Narrative Flair
While the show is fiction, it draws heavily on the reality of "prosperity gospel" churches and the way municipal corruption works in California. The way "The Brooks" development project is handled—zoning laws, kickbacks, backroom deals—is actually quite accurate to how real estate and local government interact.
There are no heroes.
Even the people you want to root for are compromised. Jocelyn is grieving, but she’s also fighting for a settlement. Bobo wants to help his friend, but he wants the mall built more. This lack of a moral "north star" is why some people find the show hard to watch. It’s cynical. But in a sea of TV shows that try to be "important" or "uplifting," there’s something refreshing about a series that is unapologetically nasty.
What You Should Take Away From Hand of God
If you’re going to dive into this, don't expect a standard police procedural. It’s a psychological character study disguised as a crime drama.
To get the most out of your viewing experience, pay attention to the sound design. The "voices" Pernell hears are often layered with environmental noise—a buzzing light, the drip of a faucet. It forces you into his headspace. You start wondering if you’re hearing things too.
Actionable Steps for the Curious Viewer:
- Watch the Pilot Twice: The first episode throws a lot of names and faces at you. The second viewing helps you see the subtle cues of Pernell’s mental state before the "visions" truly take over.
- Track the "Hand" Imagery: The show is littered with references to hands—shaking hands, washing hands, hands in prayer, hands as weapons. It’s a recurring visual motif that signals who has the power in any given scene.
- Research the "Prosperity Gospel": To understand why the church in the show operates the way it does, look into real-world examples. It makes the "Reverend" character much more terrifying when you realize his tactics are based on real-life playbooks.
- Compare Season 1 and 2: The first season is about the "quest." The second is about the "reckoning." Viewing them as two halves of a single movie makes the pacing feel much more intentional.
The TV series Hand of God isn't for everyone. It’s loud, it’s violent, and it’s often deeply weird. But for a show about faith, it doesn't offer easy answers. It just offers a front-row seat to a powerful man’s total disintegration. Sometimes, that’s exactly what you want from a binge-watch. If you want to see Ron Perlman give the performance of his career, this is where you find it. Just don't expect to feel clean when the credits roll.
The show stands as a relic of that early era of "Peak TV" where streaming services were taking massive, expensive risks on dark, auteur-driven stories. It might not have the massive legacy of Breaking Bad, but it has a soul. A dark, twisted, confusing soul. And in the world of cookie-cutter television, that’s worth something.