The origins of the detective novel date back to the 8th century, with One Thousand and One Nights. Edgar Allan Poe's C. Auguste Dupin is widely considered one of the first fictional detectives, at least in English literature. In France, it was Emile Gaboriau's Monsieur Lecoq. And then came Arthur Conan Doyle, inspired by both Poe and Gaboriau, with Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, and the rest, as they say, is history.
While it's true that several literary geniuses and screenwriters have tried to create their own version of the Holmes-Watson dynamic, with varying degrees of success, nothing has surpassed the worldwide appeal of Doyle's work. And one of the main reasons I think this is because the modern detective novel is convoluted for the sake of it, with no satisfying denouement at the end. Okay, speaking of which, let's talk about Department Q.
Stars: Kate Dickie, Alexej Manvelov, Steven Miller
Based on the book series of the same name by Jussi Adler-Olsen, Scott Frank's Department Q tells the story of Detective Chief Inspector Carl Morck, who is seriously injured while investigating a crime scene with Detective Chief Inspector James Hardy and Detective Constable Anderson. Anderson is killed instantly, Hardy is paralyzed from the waist down, and, aside from a gunshot wound to the neck and immense psychological damage, Morck emerges unscathed. When he returns to active duty intending to investigate his own shooting, his boss, Detective Chief Inspector Moira Jacobson, creates the titular department to keep him busy with unsolved cases.
He is joined by Detective Inspector Rose Dickson and Detective Inspector Akram Salim, who help him identify the disappearance of a prosecutor. Seemingly in parallel, we see Merritt lose a high-profile case, allowing Graham Finch to walk free despite (allegedly) murdering his wife. She lives with her mentally disabled brother, William, and his caregiver, Claire Marsh. She receives constant hate attacks. And one day, while traveling by ferry to Mhor with William, she is kidnapped. Coincidentally, the prosecutor Morck, Akram, and Rose are investigating is Merritt, who has been missing for four years. Is she dead? If she's alive, will they find her in time? And most importantly, who is the prime suspect? Well, that's what the series is about.
While Department Q devotes much of its attention to solving the mystery of Merritt's disappearance, it also focuses on the circumstances that led to Finch's release, as well as uncovering the identity of the shooter of Anderson, Hardy, and Morck. I don't know if others feel the same, but using a single plot to throw people off the scent is more than enough. Having three intersecting cases, while also addressing the protagonist's psychological issues and his relationship with his stepson, and all in a nine-episode series, seems excessive. Yes, those accustomed to six or eight episodes per season will find the ninth episode overwhelming. But with the amount of material the writers are handling, and given how heavy it is, they needed more time and space; 15-20 episodes would have been fine. Or they should have streamlined the stories to ensure each subplot had a satisfying conclusion, rather than everything feeling rushed. Fortunately, the dialogue and character work are solid enough to maintain the intrigue from the first episode to the last. Honestly, I could have listened to hours of back-and-forth between Morck, Rose, Hardy, and Akram.
“Dept. Q” begins on a seemingly ordinary day in Edinburgh, Scotland. Carl and his partner, Detective Chief Inspector James Hardy (Jamie Sives), speak with a young police officer before entering a house for a routine wellness check. Shown through the perspective of the patrol officer's body camera, the audience quickly realizes that this search isn't as straightforward as the men had initially anticipated. In the living room, an older man has been stabbed to death. As Carl reprimands the rookie for checking the other room, a gunman enters firing, leaving the three men in a pool of blood.
In another part of town, prosecutor Merritt Lingard (Chloe Pirrie) presents his latest case. A wealthy shipping magnate is accused of murdering his wife, and Merritt believes he has all the evidence to convict him. However, as the trial progresses, Merritt senses the jury losing confidence in his argument. He also receives an avalanche of cruel emails and text messages that threaten his life and the case. Despite these ominous warnings, Merritt, who lives an hour outside the city and cares for his mentally disabled brother, William (Tom Bulpett), isn't one to ask for help.
The only flawless aspect of Dept. Q is its cast. It's one thing to hire a bunch of talented actors and quite another to get the best performances, but Scott Frank seems to have pulled off the impossible. Matthew Goode is, as always, incredible. He peels back all the layers of Morck with such finesse that it's fascinating to watch. He's one of the most underrated actors around, and I love that he doesn't care about any of that and keeps reinventing himself. Chloe Pirrie is brilliant. She goes from someone you can empathize with to someone you should hate so effortlessly that you won't even realize you've started hating Merritt. Jamie Sives is excellent. Her chemistry with Goode will move you. Alexej Manvelov is this show's secret weapon. His stoicism and no-nonsense demeanor are simply the best. Leah Byrne is the complete opposite of Manvelov. She's bubbly, very emotional, and generally a sweetheart. And when Goode, Sives, Manvelov, and Byrne complement each other, it's hilarious. As for the supporting cast, Mark Bonnar, Shirley Henderson, Kate Dickie, Kelly Macdonald, Tom Bulpett, Steven Miller, and everyone who appears on screen, even for a few seconds, gives it their all as if it were just another day at work.
I guess the most straightforward way to describe Dept. Q is that it's a drag. Not so bad as to be unwatchable. Not so amazing as to be essential. The cast is likable. The dialogue is great. The subplots touch on institutional corruption, capitalism, trauma (in various forms), parenthood, and justice. But by the time the end credits rolled, nothing resonated with me. I had no emotional reaction to anything. Do I want a second season with this group of detectives? Of course I do. However, the narrative needs improvement. I know Netflix has made Harlan Coben a household name by approving adaptations of every trashy book he's ever written, but just because something is popular doesn't mean it should be imitated. There's a huge difference between complex and convoluted, and until writers and showrunners understand this, we'll continue to see these half-baked and empty works. So, while everyone figures out how to do it, I'm going to spend some time with Arthur Conan Doyle.
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