Now
that Doug Henshall is leaving Shetland,
the show can’t go on in his absence, and I’ve been pressed to find a new
enthusiasm. Bosch is terrific, of course, but the one thing it ain’t is
cozy. Enter Doctor Blake, an Aussie show available on Amazon Prime.
Let’s admit that we find formulas comfortable. Sometimes they show their age – I’m fond of Death in Paradise, but it’s worn a little threadbare, and I’m glad to see them adjust the seasoning without spoiling the recipe. Doctor Blake is generic in the right proportion, a little like Brokenwood, or The Coroner, familiar in its conventions and yet original in setting and detail.
So much for formula. There’s also a fair amount of charm, and equally, disquiet. The fabric of the town, both public and private, is sinuous and misleading. And the backstory comes out in skittery, unexpected ways – not simply that things aren’t what they seem, but that flat characters can become suddenly round. Lucien himself proves unsettled and ill at ease; he’s not sure he should be playing the part.
One of
the things that makes it work for me is that I don’t know any of the actors. When you watch American or Brit television,
you’re like, Oh, yeah, I remember her from Downton
Abbey, or
The writing is very sharp, the characters given a lot of air, and you have a sense of breathing room, although the structure is necessarily tight: they are mysteries. At the same time, you feel it’s a lived-in place.
I think what I like about it, and I’m now into the third season, is that there’s definitely a comfort zone, we like these people, but there’s still something a little off to one side, only glimpsed. We turn our heads, as if to catch it, and it slips away.