24 Frames of Dreaming

Help, it's over.

At least for now, anyway. There's going to be a third season, thank god. I experienced about thirty seconds of horrified despair between the moment my stream ended on Alec's stoic, lonely face, and when I hopped on Twitter to see that - no - oh please, please - yes - YES there was going to be another season! Whew.

It's not often I allow myself to helplessly fangirl over things, but after seven weeks of suspense, I figure I've probably earned it. So don't mind me if I get a bit sentimental here. All the nail-biting is finally over, and the characters are getting on with their lives. It's great to finish a season of such great TV, but it also leaves one feeling a wee bit bereft for a while.

Overall, this was a truly masterful episode. The mystery finally unraveled; the cast put in outstanding performances; it was tightly plotted, fast-paced, with a real emotional kick in the tail: a fitting end to an excellent season.

We came first to Joe's trial - that arduous, season-long saga that looked like it might never end. After the horrible cliffhanger last episode, hearing the 'not guilty' verdict shouldn't have been surprising, but it was still a blow. There was no screams or loud drama when the verdict was given - just an anguished silence from the Latimers and Ellie, which was far more effective than anything else would have been. I felt especially sorry for Chloe, holding the baby, weeping off by herself. Tom comforting Ellie was a touching role reversal and a great little character moment. As shocking as the verdict was, and as brutal for everyone there, from a writing perspective, it was the only thing to do - otherwise what would have been the point of dragging it out all season only for Joe to be convicted? The shot of Joe driving out the court gates past the devastated Latimers was sickening. Honestly, at this point I was hoping someone would do the world a favour and pop him off.

"Hey Beth, fancy a bit of DIY justice?"

And it looked for a while like someone might do it - Ellie and Beth's murderous rage was totally convincing and for a moment I could definitely see them hunting Joe down and giving him a sticky end. Fortunately they took the moral high road, and while Joe's walk of shame past all the people he'd hurt was overly symbolic, his banishment was a fitting exorcism for the town, and consolidated that firm sense of place that the show had in Season 1. And Olivia Colman and Jodie Whittaker (Beth) were on top form as their characters confronted Joe - it was an empowering scene for both characters and their grief and resilience was very moving.

I felt sorry for Ellie, still reeling from the verdict, being confronted by a very angry Scotsman with a motivational speech. Alec's a blunt instrument as always, and he pushes her to her limits, but there was a grain of truth in his diatribe, and she certainly rose to the challenge (doesn't she always?). However, I think the slight awkwardness from this scene was a good example of the rushed plotting in this episode. So much happened with Sandbrook this week, and relatively little in episode 7. If the pace of events had been more evenly spread over the two episodes, I think it would have felt more convincing.

"Welcome to Hardy's Anger Management 101. Let's go roast some suspects."

I've mentioned this before, but I just don't like Tess, and it was extremely satisfying to see Alec brush her off in favour of Ellie: "No, I need Miller" - and quite right too. Tess is excruciatingly smug for someone who basically ruined her husband's life - she's always smirking around like the cat that got the cream. Hopefully she'll move to Antarctica before season 3 starts, but I'm not optimistic. And can we all just stop for a minute and acknowledge how amazing Ellie is? The strain on her this episode was brutal, and it was proof of her resilience that not only did she not break under the pressure, but she unearthed the final, crucial piece of evidence that allowed them to get Lee to confess. She's an utter legend.

Sandbrook...this is what had been keeping so many of us up nights, freeze-framing and examining episodes for clues, and generally driving ourselves a wee bit nuts. After all that speculation, the solution was something I didn't see coming. Am I disappointed I didn't guess it? No. Did it live up to the build-up? Mostly, yes. The flashbacks, finally showing us what happened on that awful night, were well shot and concisely paced; and Alec and Ellie's horrified, revolted expressions mirrored mine as I sat in slight shock. It was more or less what we all expected, I think, but the reality of the details was terrible. The horror of seeing those lovely girls murdered was really too much and I almost couldn't bear to look - which, of course, is the only decent reaction to violence like that, and I appreciate that Broadchurch never succumbs to violence as sensationalism - it never cheapens the very real horror of a crime like that. The cleverness of the solution was the absence of a single cold-blooded perpetrator - as many of us had suspected, there
were so many layers of jealousy, anger, infidelity, dysfunction, and misplaced loyalty all woven together that it was hard to say who was most at fault. Ricky wouldn't harm his daughter, but kills his niece in a jealous rage. Lee ends up committing murder to avoid being framed for another murder. Claire helps kill Pippa to protect the husband who she had just found cheating on her. They are all so terrifically messed up it almost defies belief - and yet it's credible. And the fact that the murders happened so easily - in a domino cascade of inevitable events - makes it all the more chilling.

For quite a while I doubted Alec's intuition about the guilty parties but it turned out to be right, again, about both Lee and Claire. It was glorious to see Alec as the personification of merciless justice, new heart and all, ready to hunt the perpetrators to the ends of the earth if need be. And his fierce determination and that death-ray stare really did save the day, since no one else could have won that creepy battle of wills with Claire in the interview room. Eve Myles (Claire) gave a really unsettling performance, with those innocent baby eyes suddenly full of thinly veiled malice and contempt. I found myself wishing I hadn't felt so sorry for her just the previous episode; she turned out to be a truly horrible person and not even Lee's control over her could even start to excuse her actions.

David Tennant had lots to work with this episode, and he's pitch-perfect as a man who's on the verge of emotional disintegration and taking it all very personally - the rage, the suddenly red-rimmed eyes and the quaver in the voice. Once again, as in Season 1, Alec gets to deliver the coda of the story, and this time it's particularly dark - that love always turns sour and that no one can be trusted, ever, not even the people you care for most. It obviously struck deep for Ellie, and I was sorry she had to hear that. It was hammering home the conclusion of Alec's character this season - that even when he's won, he's still convinced he's utterly alone.

He did it.

For me, the most profound part of the episode was the sight of Alec, alone in the interview room, weeping over the photos of the murdered girls for whom he'd finally, finally got justice. It broke my heart. Even doing the right thing by the girls couldn't bring them back or undo the horror of their deaths. For Alec, at least, relief and triumph was mixed with the realisation that it was an achingly Pyrrhic victory.

How much of my Sandbrook theories were correct? Funnily enough, I don't really care - the entertaining part was the speculation, and since I was happy with how the mystery was resolved, I don't mind that most of my theories were three buses and a long hike away from what actually happened. Most shockingly for me, Cate played no part at all in the murders. I was pretty convinced she was a murderer hiding-in-plain-sight, like Joe was last season, but no. I was a bit closer to the mark with the theories that a) the murders would be crimes of passion, b) there would be multiple perpetrators, and c) Pippa would be a victim of the anger and sexual infidelity of the adults. It was nice not to be completely wide of the mark, but really, the fun part is not knowing.

"Since when does Alec sign his texts "xox"? Must be his new heart playing up."

Now, as much as I loved the murder and mystery element of the episode - and I'd been dying to find out for so long - actually a surprisingly big part of the episode for me was saying goodbye to all these wonderful characters. This is probably Broadchurch's greatest strength. You know that characters are well written when you forget for just a moment that they're fictional - when you care what happens to them and want them to be happy.

One thing I really enjoyed about Season 1 is that Broadchurch cares about all the characters, including the minor ones, and we got fitting resolutions for all of them. This season's finale wasn't quite as successful here, but managed to leave most of the characters at a more or less convincing place.
Rev Paul, that complex mixture of neediness and philanthropy, got to do something constructive for a change and atone for his self-righteous meddling all season.
Jocelyn and Sharon's sort-of-reconciliation, coming straight after Alec and Ellie's highly emotional scenes, felt rather unimportant and a little too tidy. Not everything needs to be wrapped up with a bow. Hopefully their new case won't be a plotline in Season 3, because I'm really not interested.
"Keep our love as strong as steel. That's how we win": Mark sums up the hopeful future for the Latimers. The last time we saw Mark and Beth together, they were on the edge of divorce, and so their eleventh-hour reconciliation felt pretty forced. However, it was a lovely scene, and life goes on in the form of their baby daughter. And the best part was seeing Ellie and the kids join them - Ellie really needs Beth's friendship, and hopefully she can start to repair her life too. Ellie's last scenes were mostly focused on Alec, but it was clear that she's equal parts broken and resilient, and since she's the unsinkable Ellie Miller, we know she'll make it.

Conspicuously absent from this scene was Alec, who for the first time ever straightens his tie as he's about to leave Broadchurch - a hopeful sign that he's beginning to repair himself as well. But it's very clear that he doesn't want to leave - the town he hated has become his closest thing to a home - and that's mostly because of Ellie. Some people are convinced he doesn't actually leave after the credits roll - but of course he does. I'm betting he'll spend about six months getting to know his daughter and quietly missing his buddy Millah, and then he'll find some pretext or other to rope her back in to a case. And the world will be back on its axis again, and I'll be happy.

Broadchurch has stumbled a few times this season, but it sure knows how to end well. The last fifteen minutes were exquisitely paced, acted, and scored, and the absolute masterpiece was Ellie and Alec's amusingly awkward, keenly poignant goodbye in his little blue cottage. Just put Olivia Colman and David Tennant in a room and let them do what they do best - and the result is always spectacular. I cried, I really did, which might be silly, but the obvious subtext of the scene is that neither of them want him to leave, but neither can find a suitable reason for him to stay. I couldn't believe she refused a hug. Come on, the poor man started out as a human porcupine and he's been trying to hug her for a whole season now. But she was too fragile - and fair enough. Still, it underscored the more subtle fact that he seems to care more about her than vice versa, but their friendship isn't easy to categorise. It's certainly not anything like love, yet it's not quite your average friendship either. It's been beautiful watching them fall from distrust into trust, but it was inevitable that they'd part ways sooner or later. As I said a few weeks ago, I'm struggling to think of a resolution to their relationship that would be neither cloying nor sad, and yet convincing. I just want them to be grumpy crime-solving best friends forever...

Because the fact is that they need each other. Mostly, Alec actually needs Ellie. This might seem obvious, but the finale underlined how terribly grim Alec's view of the world is. He truly believes that everything is futile, that everyone betrays their loved ones in the end. And Ellie is the only person who can not only understand him, but tell him to snap out of it and actually show him - just by being his friend - that he's wrong. And Alec is the only person who will stubbornly be there for Ellie even when she rebuffs him - even if he's totally emotionally incompetent, he just never gives up - and she needs someone who offers her awkward hugs and asks her whether she's eaten today. So in some ways the question of whether their relationship should be platonic or romantic isn't the point - the point is that they actually do need each other, and that's why there was such a sense of loss when they went their separate ways.

Sigh.
Now for the criticism.

What were the episode's weakest points? For me, the biggest one was Claire. Eve Myles is a wonderful actress, but Claire's writing felt rather forced here. First she was the increasingly dodgy liar - then she was the sympathetic victim of circumstances - and finally she's an utter psycho who helped murder a child in cold blood and would do anything, including accusing Alec of raping her, to defend her equally murderous (and cheating) husband. Something in there doesn't compute. Which is she? Although I was always engaged with the big focus this season had on the mystery of Claire, I felt like it didn't pay off quite as well as it could have. And speaking of her accusation against Alec - that really bothered me, actually, as a writing choice. I know the point of it was to emphasise that Claire is utterly deranged and will defend Lee no matter what, but actually in real life, when women say they've been raped it's almost always true (just like for any other crime). It just didn't sit right with me because it wasn't essential to the plot, and it reinforces that horrible myth that "women just make it up sometimes". Screenwriters need to take that seriously.

She's very, very creepy.

Additionally, in the rush to conclude Sandbrook, there were a few things that the episode didn't address that seemed to be important up until now:
-Who sent Claire the bluebell? I don't think it was ever stated - do we presume Ricky?
-The bluebell thing - such a huge and frustrating clue - didn't feel so very important in the end.
-Some of the procedural stuff around Sandbrook seemed to be conveniently ignored - like the fact that all the evidence Alec and Ellie had collected and everything they'd done while the case was closed would not only be inadmissible in court, it would be illegal.
 -The script was weighed down with a few overly heavy-handed lines - especially in the posturing between Jocelyn and Sharon in the cloakroom.

With the benefit of hindsight, it's clear that there were also problems with Season 2 as a whole, and they deserve to be mentioned.
-Episodes 2 and 3 descended into melodrama and chaos at times, jarring the series' usually expert hold on restraint and
deliberate progress.
-Some threads did lead nowhere in particular - or didn't turn out to be as important as we thought - a problem with any extended whodunnit, and what made Season 1 an absolute miracle was that that problem was almost nonexistent.
-Most importantly, too much screen time was spent on Joe's trial. The trial could only have two outcomes and all the angst was directed at a fairly predictable endpoint. By contrast, Sandbrook had far more potential as a story and could have gone in a million different directions, but it ended up sacrificing screen time to the procedural drama and its subplots, like the strain on the Latimers (this felt at times like re-treading Season 1 ground) and the rivalry between Sharon and Jocelyn (this wasn't given enough development and fell very flat), which never really measured up to their potential.

However, despite these caveats, I still enjoyed this season immensely because...well, I could go on about all the things that are great - the solid writing, the sublime talent, the unlikely yet engaging relationship between the two main characters, the achingly beautiful musical score, the glorious cinematography - but I hope I've mentioned most of those in previous reviews. Ultimately, the faults don't stop me from enjoying Broadchurch because above all it succeeds in creating authentic people who are dealing with real problems.

I can guarantee that in a few months' time I'll be doing something and out of nowhere will come the thought: "I wonder where Alec went when he got in that cab?" or "I wonder if Ellie and Tom finished re-painting their house. Wee Fred is going to be so big by next season!" The characters earned my liking and respect (or hatred, as the case may be!), and that never felt forced. And the big issues the series grapples with never feel contrived; it's easy to understand how one might react in the same situations the characters go through. Loss, trust, messy grief, anger, guilt, love and friendship, they're all there. 

Everyone has their own standards for what constitutes great drama, but that's how I judge it - on whether the people feel real. Pretty much the worst thing I can say about TV is "I just don't care what happens to these people". Because we forget plot details and cliffhangers, but we remember characters. We remember people. Broadchurch has been well-written and executed, thrilling and satisfying, and the characters will stay with me for a long time. That's pretty much all I ask of fiction.

Would you like to be interviewed by them? Me neither.

So where to now? I've enjoyed reviewing this season so much, speculating on Twitter and getting messages from people saying how much they've enjoyed reading the reviews. I'm genuinely quite downcast that it's over - but it means I have more time to write about other things, which is nice. I have a theatre review that's nearly done (Shakespeare's Richard II), some thoughts on Thelma and Louise, absolutely buckets of Doctor Who meta sitting in my drafts folder, and I'm planning a big roundup of all the films I've seen in the last few months - a big bunch of mini-reviews that might be useful when you have decision paralysis next time you have a movie night in. And I'm hoping to tune into the Breaking Bad spinoff Better Call Saul, which will give me the discipline of writing each week. Hopefully I'll return to some Old Hollywood too, and possibly even some short fiction.

Whew! That's probably enough to get me started...! If you like the sound of any of this, you're very welcome to follow me and keep tabs on what I get up to. You can follow me on Twitter, follow the blog's Facebook page, or subscribe to my RSS feed. If Tumblr's your poison, I post a lot of Old Hollywood photographs and some Doctor Who art on my blog there, and I'm always up for a chat.

Until then!



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