As riveted as I was by the first two episodes, I was bored rigid by the last two which consisted of waiting for simmering father Eddie (Stephen Graham) and 13-year-old son Jamie (Owen Cooper) to explode. That was no big surprise for the mouthy father had been on a short fuse from the outset, but the son, excepting of course he had knifed a female schoolmate to death, had been working hard on presenting an earnest innocent face.
While the much-vaunted one-take technical breakthrough (??) works well enough in the first two episodes it falls apart in the final two as tension completely evaporates. It was always going to be a big ask to maintain any real kind of tension in a series where we know from the start that Jamie is guilty as charged. The CCTV evidence provides all the confirmation we need, although for some reason Detective Inspector Luke Bascomb (Ashley Walters) wants to drag everything out because he lacks a motive for the murder.
Back in the Hollywood Golden Age, characters were always coming in and out of doors – and, if you recall, one of the greatest images put on film revolved around John Wayne and a door (The Searchers, 1956, if you need a reminder) – but then someone decided we could dispense with all that and just start scenes in rooms. Movies were also keen on people walking down a street – that created ambience, atmosphere, location, whatever, and helpful if they were headed for a western shootout – and television, for budgetary reasons, has tons of sequences of conversations outside during a stroll.
The notion that cinema verite camerawork involving walking endlessly along corridors adds much to a television series beyond bragging rights is misplaced. It comes in handy during the school scenes when the backdrop is teachers barely able to contain riotous kids. It seems a bit odd to expect television audiences who prefer character and story to be asked to applaud these endless walks – and takes lasting a solid hour – just because the director has worked out a way to jump from one character to another without cutting.
Apart from the initial identifying of the murderer, it takes a heck of a long time to go anywhere else. There’s a heinous attempt to make the victim responsible for her own death, she made fun of the younger boy for daring to think he was in her league – or age group – to ask her out. The motivation for the killing appears to revolve around Jamie, in full predator glory, hoping that in taking advantage of a moment of her personal humiliation, that she will relent.
The first two episodes set a high bar in police procedural, especially when answers are not forthcoming and the kids can give two fingers – or worse – to any figure of authority. The moment where Jamie gives vent is damaged by the fact that the psychiatrist Briony (Erin Docherty) is so ineffective.
As you might have guessed, social media is to blame, but any hint of inadequate parenting the director treats like an unexploded bomb best to avoid.
There’s not much character development, the DI farts in the car, a security guard is ignored in his attempts to spark up conversation with Briony, cop’s son Adam (Amari Bacchus) is subject to constant low-level bullying, and there’s a terrible attempt to make Eddie more empathetic by recalling his early dating.
Stephen Graham (Boiling Point, 2023) being both co-writer (with Jack Thorne, Toxic Town, 2025) and a producer probably led to him having more scenes than necessary. Directed by Philip Barantini (Boiling Point) who should win the Oscar for choreography.
Owen Cooper, in his debut, is by far the standout.
Netflix is hoping for kudos for this but it feels like one of those European arthouse movies long on style and short on substance.
The Magnificent 60s 