Roger Lewis

The show is a lavish mess. Yes, it has famous actors, some interesting performances (especially from the cat), and impressive cinematography. But the script piles on plot twists in a vain attempt to make sense of all that has gone before. Perhaps the book on which the show is based succeeds: I wouldn’t know. This drama does not. Yes, the script hints that what transpires on screen should be taken with a grain of salt; for example, flashbacks are based on a work of fiction whose author could not know the details portrayed. But the “explanation” when it comes fails to tie up all the loose ends. Why does the Blanchett character keep the truth hidden from her husband for decades, even when her career and marriage are threatened? Why does she react so extremely to publication of a novel that does not come close to the truth? Why does a young man of reprehensible character linger at a crime scene and then suddenly turn altruistic? Why does a father become hell-bent on revenge given what he knows or guesses about his late son’s character? How could a young boy sleep through an extended noisy encounter between his mother and a man in the next room? Are we supposed to believe that subconscious memories explain his subsequent odd and troubled conduct as a young adult? I agree with other reviewers about the unappealing, unnecessary, and ever-so extended soft-core scenes. Moreover, I was never convinced that the flashback version of the Blanchett character (neither the “fictional” nor “true” versions) could possibly be the same person portrayed by Blanchett.

Beneath the veneer of lavish wardrobes, plush settings, and panoramic London vistas, the show is a glorified soap opera that becomes progressively more tedious with each season. Virtually all the central characters engage in reprehensible behaviour: lies, betrayals of confidences, thefts, fraud, adultery, infidelities of all sorts. Legal cases always take a back seat to unfolding private dramas. In fact, it’s a wonder any work gets done at all given that the staff spend all their time shooting smouldering glances and frantically checking their non-work-related text messages. I usually like Nicola Walker but ended up strongly disliking her character, not just for her decades-long deceits and inconstancy but for her self-righteousness. Her husband at least exhibits humility. The character of Christie is repellant, a virtual reprise of the rapacious amoral character played by the same actor in Bad Banks. The series is a slow-motion train wreck that masquerades as something more.

Call it one-and-a half stars. If you’re looking for subtlety or clever detection, take a pass. Narrative lapses and coincidences abound. Evidence is obtained almost instantaneously — complete financial records, videos, you name it: all that’s required is a mouse click or two. Forensic conclusions are precise, black and white, rarely explained or justified. Perpetrators confess in the absence of proof, and plot developments are often telegraphed. A soap opera involving the title character, his self-centred ex-wife, and best friend unfolds throughout. The (presumably unintended) silliness and an attractive seaside setting provide a perverse (but limited) charm as Dan repeatedly zooms around Elsinore in his open-topped, glorified jeep (rain, or any semblance of winter, is a non-factor).

The lead actor is appealing, the northern scenery attractive. That said, there is not much in the way of painstaking or clever detection, and there are way too many lapses in logic. An example of the latter: someone on a snowmobile goes through the ice followed by a person on foot, but then three tightly grouped police cars hurtle across the ice to the rescue. How is that possible? We didn’t make it through season 1, and season 2 is worse according to other reviewers.