All of that is a long winded introduction to say how perplexed I was recently to realize how many detective stories (or crime dramas) I was not only watching, but absolutely loving. For a time, I suspected my love of Sherlock was mostly Moffat-related spill-over from Doctor Who. Now, however, I believe it's another link in the chain of outstanding crime dramas out there that I'm enjoying. The three most recent (and strongest) links, though, are probably Justified, True Detective, and Broadchurch. I'm going to leave aside any discussions of the first two until after their seasons finish and focus on Broadchurch today.
Much like Sherlock, my entry into Broadchurch was through Doctor Who. While Eccleston was my first Doctor, David Tennant's portrayal cemented my love of the franchise. Add to that my sudden interest in the detective story, and you have a perfect recipe for a Saturday binge watched show. Broadchurch sets up with the mysterious death of a young boy in a small English town. After 4 episodes, I thought I was going to stop for the night, as it was a rather bleak story, if compelling. I walked away for maybe 30 minutes, looking for cheerier entertainment and changing the laundry. I had just hit Start on the next dryer cycle when I thought, "Nope, I've got to know," and sat back down to polish off the remaining 4 episodes. The ending wasn't happy, of course, but it was cathartic in a way that TV (especially a single season) rarely can be.
One thing I'm often impressed by in British TV is the ease with which they integrate the church into their shows. Religion is often a third rail in the US, and so we only tend to get trope-filled church references, or no church presence at all. Broadchurch shows the Reverend Paul Coates as a part of the town in a way that feels natural. He is a suspect for the same reasons many of the townsfolk are, and he doesn't walk around spouting religious platitudes without provocation. The scenes showing a normal Sunday service with only 19 people, contrasted with a post-tragedy service full to bursting felt well crafted, too. Sadly, TV writers are not sermon writers for a reason, and thus the pieces of sermons in the show mostly serve as exposition or plot advancement.
I'm reluctant to say much more about the plot for fear of giving things away. The mystery was well paced and the dead ends revealed by the detectives properly do more harm than the actual revelation of the killer, which always makes a story interesting. I didn't figure it out by the end, and I at least partially blame that on the binge watching. Stopping for even a day before the last episode might have given me time to process, but, on the other hand, it was like watching an 8-hour episode of Sherlock.
I do hope Tennant returns for the second series, as the story leaves us with an ambiguous "Broadchurch will return" (as opposed to, say, "DI Alec Hardy will return"). For now, I'm looking forward to Gracepoint this fall, the US adaptation, with David Tennant playing the same character (with a different name). Given how inevitable the ending felt after seeing it, though, I'm curious how they'll mix it up. The bigger question, I think, is why do we even need American remakes of British shows at all? Just go watch Broadchurch.
