(Dir. Martin Campbell) (1985)
Northern copper Ronnie Craven has picked up his daughter Emma from college and taken her home to eat ratatouille when a loony ex-con and informer jumps out of the bushes and shoots her dead, presumably meaning to kill the father.
After (whilst still in?) the shock of this outrage, Craven starts to manifest numerous delusions, probably stemming from post traumatic stress disorder. For example, he thinks he’s a tree! He still converses with Emma. He thinks the murder-gone-wrong was nothing more than a front for a vast, labyrinthine conspiracy by the dark forces of global nuclear industry! I mean, how ridiculous! Hang on, wait a minute…
Forget the pallid film re-make; this great British series has spot-on casting, divine production values, and is as confusing as any Raymond Chandler plot but just as atmospheric and irresistible.
“Get Me Pendleton!!!”
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