~Happy Valley If it’s grit you’re after, it’s grit you’ll get with this show. This series plumbs the depths of human nature with its heartbreak, despair and just sheer stupidity. More than that, it takes a look at the many times a few words or an action can set people off in directions they really had no intention of going. The ripple effects from these decisions leave you squirming in your seat, because…well…you can just see the disaster that’s looming on the horizon. Catherine, played by the incredible Sarah Lancashire, is a cut-through-the-bullshit, hard-as-nails cop. Her teenage daughter committed suicide after a rape and subsequent birth and Catherine has been raising her grandson ever since. As the show opens, the man she blames for her daughter’s death, Tommy Lee Royce, has just been released from prison after serving eight years on drug charges. Her obsession with locating Royce becomes nastily entangled with a local kidnapping that she is unaware Royce is involved in. The plot has been set in motion by Kevin, an employee with an axe to grind against his boss, who hatches a plan to kidnap the bosses’ daughter for a ransom. It all goes massively wrong of course, leaving a trail of death and destruction that even the people involved with the kidnapping don’t have the stomach for. At home, where Catherine lives with her sister Claire, a recovering alcoholic, things are as overwhelming as her work life. Her marriage has collapsed under the weight of her daughter’s death, her relationship with her son is tenuous and her grandson acts out at school. It’s enough to drive a saint to drink. But hidden within the bowels of such a seemingly chilling and heartless void, where Catherine is weary and broken, there is hope and resilience and the overwhelming need to move forward despite the odds. For while Catherine is tough she is also warm and kind and always goes out of her way to help those who need it. Through it all, inexplicably, she manages to hang on by the skin of her teeth, her dry sense of humour intact. This series is graphic and violent and raw and heartbreaking but oh, so good. Season two continues with the threads from season one, but introduces a new murder which follows a similar pattern to the kidnapping. A man makes a decision which spirals out of control and doesn’t end well.
~Luther Sick and twisted. Those are the words that spring to mind when I think of this show. And demented — definitely demented. It’s as if the killers in each episode are trying to outdo each other, vying for some imaginary prize. Most deranged psychopath wins. And then there’s Luther — who might just be able to claim the prize for himself. OK, he’s not quite that bad, but for all the detectives who have gone before him, who were fond of rule breaking, they have nothing on Luther. He is the biggest, bad ass of them all. And he is awesome at it. This show, probably more than any other, pushes the bounds of credulity, but it works. Luther may not be a fan of playing by the rules, but all his dubious decisions are made for the right reasons. He’s not a bent copper, he’s just one who’s prepared to put himself on the line to protect someone or catch a killer. So what if his methods are sometimes questionable. It’s a little hard to pick fault when he’s out there putting his own life on the line to save others. More so in the first season, but threading through subsequent seasons, is an interesting relationship with a psychopath named Alice. She’s fond of helping him out in ways he’d really prefer she not, but then when he’s framed for murder, it’s Alice he turns to for help. Hardly surprising really. Alice is nothing if not resourceful. It’s a fascinating alliance and adds a really interesting dynamic to the show. This is a high energy, slightly schizophrenic show with wonderful cinematography and a punchy soundtrack. And while Luther’s dazzling genius perhaps pushes him into superhero territory, I am perfectly OK with that, because Luther might be a tormented and persecuted soul, but Idris Elba just oozes sex appeal and charisma and is most definitely worthy of superhero status.
~Vera is the female version of Columbo – frumpy shapeless clothes and coat, a rather bumbly demeanour which belies a mind as sharp as a tack and an abrasive personality which rubs many a person the wrong way. The show takes place in Northumbria in the most northern part of England. Here the moors are bleak and windswept and the skies are dark and stormy. Such a stark and desolate atmosphere is a perfect backdrop to the misery that plays out against it. This is not a happy show. What is fascinating though, is the time spent with the families of the victims…still raw in their grief and suffering. As things play out, layer upon layer is peeled back until frequently the people involved often end up in a worse place than they were at the show’s beginning. Vera is played by Brenda Blethyn and if you haven’t seen her in anything before, you’re in for a treat. She is superb. She’s gruff and brusque and while she may not have a nurturing bone in her body, she’s not without heart and after decades on the job she knows people and why they do the things they do and that she can sympathise with. For the first four seasons her sergeant is Joe with whom she has an interesting relationship. He’s much younger and married with a family, but he gets her and so is able to put up with all her foibles. He even frequently tries to get her to be more personable and sociable. He generally fails, but it is entertaining. The mysteries themselves are smart and complex, digging deep into the bleak aspects of human nature. Not for the faint of heart.
