Matthew Goode translates his standard sardonic character into a new version in Dept. Q: a PTSD-riddled detective making lemonade from the lemons he’s been given.
Detective Carl Morck is not a nice guy when we meet him. He’s not likable or sympathetic. And then—that moment that changes everything arrives. Is he nice after that? Let’s just say, he might get there. Eventually. Morck must recalibrate to his new normal—and part of this includes taking a clear-eyed inventory of the man he has become.
If that’s not bad enough, he’s demoted to an ugly, neglected basement—the “downstairs downstairs,” says Commanding Officer Moira Jacobson (Kate Dickie)—and put in charge of creating a cold case department of one: himself. The promised funds? Jacobson sends them elsewhere.
I loved Morck’s therapist, Dr. Rachel Irving, played by the wonderful Kelly Macdonald. Dr. Irving doesn’t give way to the alienation tactics Morck uses and mirrors them with cheeky accuracy. Oh? He doesn’t want to do his soul work? Okay. She removes herself to her desk where she begins to happily munch her sandwich.
I also love the secondary character Akram Salim, a Syrian cop—maybe—who joins Morck’s team and wows cynical Morck. Moscow-born Alexej Manvelov plays Salim with a firm quiet.
The show is honest in its portrayal of PTSD, my therapist husband asserts. Moments of despair are captured well with subtle work: a knowing glance here, a tear wiped there.
Goode’s been a busy actor since 2002 with movies from Leap Year to Freud’s Last Session where he plays C.S. Lewis against Anthony Hopkins’ Freud.
Macdonald has credits from Gosford Park, Finding Neverland, Goodbye Christopher Robin, and other dramas.
American creator and director Scott Frank is a multi-award-winning screenwriter and director known for Little Man Tate, Get Shorty, Logan, and The Queen’s Gambit.
The story is based on the novel by NYT bestselling author Jussi Adler-Olsen. Unlike the novel, this Dept. Q is set in Edinburgh, Scotland—instead of the original Denmark. Because it is Edinburgh, lovely old sites fill scenes—except, of course, the basement scenes.
A strong redemption arc lifts the drama, reminding us that we, too, must take a clear eyed inventory of the people we have become, and then do the necessary soul work (collaborating with our Creator) to change.
Rated TV-MA for language, violence, and mature themes. (Netflix)