There aren\u2019t many murder mysteries that leave audiences crying at the end, but Broadchurch may be an exception.
The immense popularity of the series is proof that the detective genre has successfully revitalised itself for the 21st century. In the last few years we may have seen the end of classic series like Inspector Morse and A Touch of Frost, but we\u2019ve been introduced to a slew of new detectives: Dr. Gregory House, Dr. Temperance \u2018Bones\u2019 Brennan, James McNulty, and even a re-vamped version of Sherlock Holmes. These detectives, and their programmes, are reshaping the conventions of the murder mystery genre.
Whodunit to whydunit
We\u2019re used to the Midsomer Murders format, in which the victims drop like flies. In the more recently devised detective programmes, death weighs much more heavily, grief is expressed more subtly, and the characters react with more emotional force. These programmes probe the psychological and emotional life of the characters; they don\u2019t just keep the audience guessing, \u2018whodunit\u2019, but they also ask, \u2018whydunit?\u2019
It all starts with the new detective himself. Far from being straightforwardly ingenious heroes, the new detectives are morally ambiguous characters. They have complex histories and bring with them demons of their own: alcoholism, relationship troubles, a violent temper, or perhaps acute arrogance. Not quite Miss Marple then.
Broadchurch offered us DI Alex Hardy (David Tennant), a rude man who is estranged from his daughter, suffers severe health problems and works incessantly as penance for failing to fully solve a previous murder case.
Viewers were given a glimpse of his past, and so, while we watched him work on the murder case, we were also watching him on a journey towards compassion, sensitivity, and self-forgiveness. In a sense, he was searching for closure, not just for the victim\u2019s family, but also for himself.
Touching a nerve
These programmes are also disconcertingly topical. While we watched the search for Danny Latimer\u2019s killer in Broadchurch, a number of other names echoed in our heads and on our Twitter feeds: Madeleine McCann, April Jones, Shannon Matthews, James Bulger. The constant comparisons with real-life situations were an acknowledgement that the programme had touched a nerve.
As one critic observed: \u2018As the credits rolled on the final episode of Broadchurch, which (eerily) went straight into the main headline from ITV news about charging the Boston bombing suspect, read by the same newsreader featured in the drama, it was hard not to acknowledge how much the series has taken grip of us all\u2019.
\u2018People are unknowable\u2019
What does any of this tell us about the world we live in? At the most basic level, these programmes show us that as humans we need to find creative ways to discuss grief, tragedy and evil as they appear in the world around us, and to recognise their powerful effect on our society.
They also remind us that we\u2019re deeply interested in understanding other people and their complex motivations. In fact, to return to Broadchurch, we\u2019re scared by the reality that DI Alec Hardy chillingly pronounces: \u2018People are unknowable. You can never really know what goes on inside someone else\u2019s heart\u2019.
It\u2019s for that reason that he is ultimately able to answer whodunnit, but never fully whydunit. Finally he is forced to confess: \u2018I don\u2019t have the answers\u2019. This is not a programme with a neat, tidy ending: the questions and suspicions linger even when the solution has been reached.
In one memorable scene, the Rev. Paul Coates (Arthur Darvill) explained to DI Hardy the consequences for a grieving community when the detective can\u2019t provide all the answers. He claimed that, in their confusion, they looked to the church as a source of strength and assurance: \u2018People turned to me, people who wouldn\u2019t normally even think about religion. They asked me to speak. They asked me to listen. They needed me. Do you know why? [...] Because there was a fear that you couldn\u2019t address. A gap that you couldn\u2019t plug. Because all you have is suspicion and an urge to blame whoever is in closest proximity [...] People need hope right now and they are certainly not getting it from you\u2019.
These new detective shows reveal that, when tragedy strikes, people do not just want conspiracy theories and rash convictions. In the complicated, painful 21st-century world, riddled with sin and grief, people need something more than glib answers. The collective cry of hurting communities is a plea for hope, and the church is perhaps the only place that they can truly find it.
Rachel Helen Smith works as an events planner and freelance writer in Cambridge. More of her articles are available at http://www.rachelhelensmith.com
