Legally, I can’t suggest ‘Alex Wagner’ crashed the plane. But, between us, I reckon she crashed the plane

The Mole is a new Netflix programme based on an old terrestrial television programme in which a bunch of guileless Americans work together to complete tasks, win money and, most importantly, figure out the identity of a sabotaging “mole” in their midst.

I was intrigued because I know a lot about moles. I would instantly know the Mole. I’d watch out for that adorable subterranean excavator’s black, velvety fur, inconspicuous ears, pink nose and extravagant sensory whiskers. Moles are hard to miss if you know what to look for.

‘The jig is up!’ the Mole would solemnly respond, looking sadly over their sunglasses with their tiny little eyes. ‘And I would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for you pesky journalists’

“You there, having a recreational dig, you’re the mole!” I’d say. Or: “You, munching on earthworms, insect larvae and small lizards, you’re probably the mole!” Or: “Who’s got two large polydactyl paws and really bad eyesight? It’s you. You’re the Mole.”

“The jig is up!” the Mole would solemnly respond, looking sadly over its sunglasses with its tiny little eyes. “And I would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for you pesky journalists and your Big Book of Facts about Moles! Damn my irrepressible lust for nomming down invertebrates and minute snakes in company! Ah my cursed gluttony, ’twas always my undoing. Come closer, human. You have bested me, sir, and now I will tell you the secrets of the Mole Kingdom, secrets hitherto unknown to man!”

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“Are the secrets recipes involving invertebrates and minute snakes?”

“Maybe…”

Sadly, figuring out the identity of the Mole is not as easy as I vividly imagined. All of the contestants are human-shaped. So the Mole must be in disguise, using a wig, some stilts and a wardrobe of human clothes. And they’re clearly travelling under an assumed human alias and not just going by “the Mole”. In fact, none of these contestants introduce themselves as “the Mole.” They’re emphatic about it.

“I am not the Mole,” they say, one after another at the outset of the show, which is a strange way to introduce yourself to strangers unless you feel really strongly about not being a mole. It feels almost molist. And now that I think of it, it’s also what the Mole would say! If one of them had said, “I am the Mole, actually. I dislike lying. It is an affront to my delightfully snuffly people,” that would have been the end of the whole thing, and that’s a lot of sunk cost for an embattled streamer.

The group includes a real-estate agent, a marketing consultant, a brand manager and a professional gamer — the main skill sets you need if you’re restarting American civilisation in an annexed Australian rainforest

For these contestants, their purging of dissenting mole folk is a personal matter. The Mole is a saboteur intent on stopping these young Americans acquiring wealth, because, as you know, moles are Fourierian socialists and hate rent-seeking capitalism. We first meet the avaricious contestants when they are dropped in the Daintree Rainforest in Australia. These American hunks have travelled to this far-flung nation, as is tradition, to extract wealth and take it back to the United States. The group includes a real-estate agent, a marketing consultant, a brand manager and a professional gamer — the main skill sets you need if you’re restarting American civilisation in an annexed Australian rainforest.

The hunks are greeted by a TV presenter called “Alex Wagner”, near an apparently crashed plane. I’m not legally allowed to suggest “Alex Wagner” crashed the plane, but, between you and me, I reckon she crashed the plane. Also, if I were a mole, “Alex Wagner” would be the sort of solid, no-nonsense collection of syllables that said “legitimate human name” to me.

“Alex Wagner”, if that is her real name, explains the first episode’s challenge. There are three boxes out in the rainforest, and there is $5,000 in each. The contestants must split into three groups to find these cases. One case, we are told, is “up high”, one is “underwater” and the third is “underground.” (My italics.) Yes, if I know moles, the Mole is clearly among the last of the three teams. That group suddenly resembles the poster for The Usual Suspects to me, if the actors in the Usual Suspects line-up all happened to be moles.

A lady called Joi, who is an apparently spatially literate pilot, grabs the map and leads the way. It turns out that she is terrible at reading maps, and they all get lost. Could that be because her little mole eyes find it hard to see the page? Possibly. Lagging behind, carrying a big bag, is a man called Osei. He complains a lot. Is he complaining because it’s difficult to keep up with humans on his tiny mole legs? I don’t know, but I think, probably, yes.

‘We could die in this river and nobody would care,’ says a focus-group moderator named Greg, a statement that isn’t usually true of Americans abroad but is frustratingly true for both moles and focus-group moderators

Osei deflects suspicion from his teensy-weensy little mole legs by suggesting that Joi’s poor mapreading is due to her being the Mole. He’s cryptic about it. He says: “I ain’t good at math, and I know that math don’t work.” Well, do you know who else is really bad at math, Osei? You’ve got it. Moles! This group never find themselves within a mole’s roar of treasure.

Elsewhere, the underwater group are mucking about fruitlessly in a stream. “We could die in this river and nobody would care,” says a focus-group moderator named Greg, in a statement that isn’t usually true of Americans abroad but is frustratingly true for both moles and focus-group moderators, so it’s not a useful clue. On the other hand, “Greg” is one of the most common mole names (along with “Doug” and “Gene”), so it’s possible that he’s tipping his hand here.

Ultimately, this crowd of possible moles find the money crate, but they have to use a special red envelope containing a clue in order to open it. This means they only get half of the contents, because Netflix is a whimsical tyrant that likes to toy with people. (Spoiler alert: the Netflix algorithm eventually evolves into the evil supercomputer from I Have No Mouth But I Must Scream, but we have a few years before that happens.)

This crowd are having far too much fun to be moles. Moles tend to engage in their assigned tasks — usually digging — with passionate, serious-minded intensity. They’re quite brooding, really

Meanwhile, the third group climb a high tree, using ropes and pulleys, in an attempt to access a crate that’s hanging there. This crowd are having far too much fun to be moles. Moles tend to engage in their assigned tasks (usually digging) with passionate, serious-minded intensity. They’re quite brooding, really. But this jovial crowd retrieve their case with a joie-de-vivre that suggests none of them is the Mole. No matter what happens on this show, however, someone will say, “But that’s what the Mole would want you to think,” so who knows?

At the end of the day, the contestants gather together around a campfire to relax and celebrate the pool of money they have collected. None of them stares at the flames and says “Aieee! Man’s witchcraft! I must retreat to my home beneath the soil, far from the fleshy ape’s foul and unnatural magic!” If they did they’d probably, but not definitely, be the Mole. I’ve also seen people from the midlands react like this to fire.

Eventually they’re all taken by helicopter to a fancy place where they must vote for the least trustworthy person (just like in a Tory leadership contest) based on their observations so far. The creators have cunningly encouraged binge-watching by ending each episode on a cliffhanger, so I won’t spoiler it here. Suffice it to say, the person chosen is not the Mole, who continues to entertainingly confound the humans against whom they plot with their beady little eyes and cuddly bodies. If I know moles, I suspect they’ll really dig in.