I wrote off Netflix’s Seven Seconds, a crime thriller centered on the aftermath of a white police officer and his friends covering up the fact that he ran over a black boy on his bike, after watching two episodes on screener.

But then, a few days later, I came back and watched a couple more. And then a couple more a few days later, after having sworn it off again. Why did I keep doing this to myself?

There are things I like about it, to be sure. The performances (especially from lead Clare-Hope Ashitey) are good across the board, and the show’s direction gives its hyper-dramatic moments room to breathe. (Notably, the second episode of the show is the final directorial effort from the late, lamented, Oscar-winning director Jonathan Demme.) I also liked the way the writing didn’t always feel hurried, like it was okay taking time setting the characters out in their world, rather than rushing on to the next plot point.

The problem is the show’s plotting relies so heavily on coincidence and contrivance that it rips me out of the series every few scenes. Take, for instance, a moment from later in the season, when the investigation of the boy’s death hits a roadblock and the only way the story can advance is for one character to just happen to see the cop and realize he’s the guilty one. (Yes, it’s just as strained as that sounds.) It feels not like good writing, but like a cheat.

And because the show is headed up by Veena Sud (of the late AMC/Netflix series The Killing), who never quite found a way to make her earlier series’ many, many coincidences work even in the context of an overwrought murder mystery, I had a vague sense of where all of this was headed.

But I kept coming back to the show. Some new contrivance would take me out of it for days at a time, and then I would come back for an episode or two, before having to drop it again. I’m still not finished, but I’m sure I’ll get there.

I can’t quite call this a recommendation of Seven Seconds, but I do think it’s indicative of something interesting. Netflix and other streaming platforms, for whatever reason, seem to be a place where this sort of contrived melodrama is more engrossing than it might be elsewhere.

Stories like Seven Seconds fare better the less you have to question their underlying assumptions

Seven Seconds is based on a Russian film named The Major, which I have never seen (though its plot synopsis roughly tracks with the story of the TV show). But both the basic plot of the film and TV show and the prior work of Sud suggest that the love of coincidence and contrivance is essentially baked into Seven Seconds, which, broadly speaking, fits into the loose genre of “Nordic noir.”

Named for the region of the world where it originated (which is to say, Sweden, Norway, and Denmark), Nordic noir is what I’ve come to think of less as a specific genre and more as an organizing set of storytelling principles. If it’s just a genre, strictly speaking, a “Nordic noir” is a dark, pulpy crime story, set in an unusual location. (You get added points for lots of snow.)

But if we think of Nordic noir more as a collection of storytelling ideas, then just as important is the use of wild coincidences that set stories in motion, moments that strain credulity but which we go with because they push our characters into realms of deeper and deeper uncertainty, even outright mistrust.

These sorts of storytelling devices are generally easier to take when presented in a context that is slightly outside of what we’re used to. From their Scandinavian settings to the fact that the dialogue isn’t in English, Nordic noirs tend to go down better for American audiences the more distance they have from the US itself.

You can see a fairly direct example of this in the British series Broadchurch (not a direct Nordic noir in terms of genre, but one that fits as well as anything in terms of storytelling tropes), which works beautifully, while its American remake, Grace Point, suffers despite using almost exactly the same storyline, with terrific actors trying to put it over the top. For whatever reason, the appeal of Nordic noir seems to work better the further away it is from home, at least for most American viewers.

But Seven Seconds may have found a way around this problem, and that stems from the platform on which it airs. Netflix’s batch-viewing model makes it harder to take the time to dwell on a coincidence or complication that might throw you out of the story, and even if the twists and turns of Seven Seconds become too miserable to bear, its “autoplay” feature ensures that you’ll be able to just go on to the next batch of misery. You won’t even have to think about it.

Nordic noirs and similar shows that explore the depths of human misery ultimately thrive less on plot mechanics and character beats than on all-encompassing mood. And for all of its faults, the Netflix model is great for building up a mood that slowly washes over you and carries you out into its pitch-black sea. Every time I think I’m done with Seven Seconds, it just keeps going, and something about the texture of its world, the way that the characters talk to each other, or the muted wintry setting, creates a feeling that seeps its way into my bones.

So, even though I would give up on Seven Seconds every couple of episodes, its weird, wintry world stuck with me and made me want to return, again and again. This also might be a side benefit of a completely different Netflix problem: All of the episodes of Seven Seconds are overlong, with some approaching 70 minutes, but that length adds up to more time to envelop viewers in the show’s world, tone, and mood.

We don’t really have the language to talk about this yet, about the way that watching a show in a streaming marathon can wear down a lot of defenses you’d put up if you were watching it week to week. Many of the things that turned me off of The Killing, from its oppressive mood to its overabundance of characters who existed solely to be tortured by the plot, are present and accounted for in Seven Seconds — but I don’t mind, because the fact I’m watching it on Netflix wraps me into the world, over and over again.

And I’m not sure that’s a bad thing, either. I’m watching, aren’t I? Isn’t that the whole point?

Seven Seconds is streaming on Netflix.