DEBORAH ROSS: Tormented? Lost your wife? You’ve got the TV cop job…

Grace 

ITV, Sunday

Rating:

Bloodlands

BBC1, Sunday (Warning: spoilery)

Rating:

Midway through ITV’s new Sunday-night cop drama, Grace, I began to wonder if there was an interview process for TV cops hoping to be on TV. I wondered if a TV cop had to be summoned into the TV office of a TV police commander, who would say: ‘Frankly, DS McPhee, I don’t see you having a future in television. I’ve been through your file and I am appalled. You don’t have an alcohol problem. When did you even last have a drink? Christmas, it says here! Oh, that won’t do. That won’t do at all. Our records also show you don’t have any notable character quirks, your wife didn’t disappear six or 22 years ago and you’re as steady as a rock.

‘The more I read, the worse it gets. You’ve never gone rogue. You don’t have questionable morals. You’ve never stared out to sea while having a eureka moment like our old friend Vera. And according to the TV psychiatrist’s report you are not a tormented, lonely soul burdened by unresolved trauma. On the contrary, it says you are an emotionally available type with a smile for everybody and an untroubled family life. Can this be true?

‘I think you know where this is headed. I think you know that, as it stands, there will never be a series simply called McPhee. I’ll review your case in six months, but in the meantime I suggest you try to love opera and work on your noncompliance. You are never going to become a maverick thorn in my side at this rate. Close the door on your way out, please.’

Grace, played by John Simm (above), has the disappeared wife (six years ago) and spends empty nights feeding his goldfish (lonely, troubled soul)

Grace, played by John Simm (above), has the disappeared wife (six years ago) and spends empty nights feeding his goldfish (lonely, troubled soul)

But Det Supt Roy Grace, needless to say, passed with flying colours. Grace, played by John Simm, has the disappeared wife (six years ago), spends empty nights feeding his goldfish (lonely, troubled soul), has a character quirk (uses mediums in his investigations) and is a thorn in the side of his boss – due to aforementioned use of mediums – who has relegated him to investigating missing persons cold cases.

But in one of those we-need-Grace-on-this-ma’am scenarios he is brought back when a stag do goes wrong, resulting in three deaths and a missing person. This was ploddingly told. 

Plod, plod, plod, it went. That said, it wasn’t quite as bland as McDonald & Dodds or Midsomer Murders, as there was a horrific twist – oh God, the buried alive thing – which did shred my nerves, but otherwise it was generic business as usual.

As for the paranormal element, did that serve the story in any meaningful way? Couldn’t it have simply been excised? I guess not, as that might lead to the loss of the character quirk, and then where would we be? 

Meanwhile, it’s set in Brighton, and towards the end I seriously thought he wasn’t going to have that eureka moment while staring out to sea. But then he did.

I stuck with Bloodlands through to the fourth and final episode, not just because I’m paid to do so, which helps, admittedly, but because I genuinely wanted to find out how DCI Tom Brannick (James Nesbitt) would paint himself out of the corner he found himself in at the end of episode two. 

Brannick has the wife who disappeared 22 years ago – perhaps Grace’s wife went to stay with her? – and is so tormented that in the final episode he sobbed and repeatedly said: ‘I’m not a good man’. 

Which, given he’d murdered four people by then, made me want to say: ‘Well spotted, Tom. Well spotted. No wonder you’re a detective.’

I genuinely wanted to find out how DCI Tom Brannick (James Nesbitt, above) would paint himself out of the corner he found himself in at the end of episode two

I genuinely wanted to find out how DCI Tom Brannick (James Nesbitt, above) would paint himself out of the corner he found himself in at the end of episode two

Actually, the standout performance, I thought, wasn’t Nesbitt doing his furrowed-brow shtick but Lorcan Cranitch as DCS Jackie Twomey. He was terrific.

This wasn’t slowly, slowly, catchy, catchy. This was quickly, quickly, twisty, twisty. Consequently, the characters never properly bedded in – did we truly care about anybody? – and it often made your brain hurt. 

Siobhan Harkin, you’d be thinking. I know she’s important but I can’t recall how.

Still, it was exciting, and it did include a gripping, 15-minute interrogation scene – very Jed Mercurio, who executive-produced this – and yet, ultimately, it made no sense whatsoever. 

If you watched and can answer any of these questions I beg you to do so:

1. Why did Brannick agitate to reopen the Goliath case?

2. How did Tori ‘I love my daddy’ Matthews overpower a man the size of Pat Keenan in order to tie him to a radiator?

3. As Goliath had to be a serving police officer, why would anyone believe it was Keenan?

4. If your husband bought you a truly horrible owl necklace, wouldn’t you disappear too?

I suppose this brain ache is good training for when Line Of Duty returns next week, as in: Tell me, why does ‘H’ matter? I honestly can’t remember at all.

(What I most wanted to say to Tori ‘I love my daddy’ Matthews was: ‘Your daddy was not a great guy. Your daddy was an arms dealer and priest who kept you and your mammy a secret in them mountains. Just get over Daddy, love, and move on.’)