Here’s another Brit procedural, which they’re so very good at. Having watched a bunch, British and other European cop shows – as I’m sure you have, too - I’ve noticed a very distinct national character in their approach. In the French series I’ve followed, Candice Renoir, The Art of Crime, Balthazar, they play fast and loose with actual police procedure, and focus on personal dynamics. This can be a positive, but not always. Balthazar is the worst offender, in this regard, to the point of being actively annoying, and I’ve stopped watching it. German shows, like the anthology series Tatort [“Crime Scene”], do personal, but it tends to be more toxic - alcohol, drugs, destructive family dynamics - so instead of enlarging, or reinforcing, the storyline, it works at cross-purposes, and sabotages the characters. Germans, as you’d expect, are rigid about protocol, but that doesn’t make the office politics any more authentic, when the paperwork is used as a dramatic convenience.
One of my new faves is the Irish series, Blue Lights, which manages the balance about right. If you’re unfamiliar with this show, the closest analogue is the Nathan Fillion police procedural The Rookie, on ABC. In other words, they generally avoid the cute, and the inner drama reflects and informs the outward plot elements. Brit shows, by and large, lean in hard on the crime, and the personal stuff is window-dressing. Inspector Lewis is in a relationship with the M.E., but it doesn’t get in the way of their work. Or, conversely, Jimmy Perez on Shetland can be distracted from essentials. It depends on the context.
Grace. Named after the lead character, Det. Super Roy Grace, based on the novels by Peter James. It’s an ensemble show, like most every detective series, but it rises and falls entirely on the appeal or integrity of the main actor. In this case, John Simm. He’s got a long list of credits, going back Rumpole, but I don’t think he got a featured lead until State of Play, a political thriller with David Morrissey. He wasn’t on my radar until Life on Mars, a strange curiosity that lasted two seasons, and a sequel, but was essentially dominated by Philip Glenister. And in spite of an early Caligula, and a turn as a mad genius villain on Dr. Who, he hasn’t really had a chance at a part that lets him breathe, not until Roy Grace.
As noted, any show depends on the support team, and this has a good one, individualized, and in their own right interesting, the strongest being Det. Sgt. Norman Potting, and the weakest ACC Vosper, Grace’s supervisor, who has the thankless role of scold, never a good look.
And, yes, there is a little too much backstory, Roy’s feet of clay (in this case, a wife who vanished), the weakness that could be incapacitating, but John Simm manages even to overcome this hoary device. There’s a scene where his new girlfriend, the pathologist Cleo Morey, asks him straight out, What if she walked in the door tomorrow? And he says, Not going to happen. She looks at him sadly, and says, That’s the wrong answer – and she gives him the right one. Grace is a very reserved guy, but in this scene, you see his emotions play across his face, and you can read every regret. Every thing he’s unable to express flickers behind his eyes. However he manages this, I’d call it acting.
One genuine caveat, which may discourage some people. The crimes themselves are often genuinely disturbing, and I mean creepy. The murderers, schemers, and manipulators are reptilian, and if you’re used to charming sociopaths with colorful justifications, these people are a lot more malign and pedestrian, as they are so unhappily in life.
Grace falls into a subset of the genre well beyond cozy – more sinister than Morse, not as icy as Happy Valley. Shot in and around Brighton, in the off-season, you get your fair share of grey, windswept shale, and moody water shots, which contribute to the general air of unease and gloom. It's not as relentlessly dour as I’m making it seem, but it could do with a few more streaks of sunshine. It reminds me a little of the newer version of Van de Valk, with Marc Warren - not cheerless, but stern. Like the weather on the English Channel, cloudy, with a light chop.
