‘Dept. Q’ Review: Matthew Goode Excels in Netflix’s Satisfyingly Sturdy Crime Procedural

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In 2007, before he was known as the mastermind behind adult-friendly smart genre shows on TV, Oscar-nominated writer Scott Frank took his first steps into directing with “The Lookout”, a captivating piece of neo-noir. Among its many highlights, it showcases a standout performance by Matthew Goode, delivering a charmingly ruthless portrayal that I found particularly memorable.

It’s been 18 years since they last worked together, but Frank and Goode are now back on screen for the Netflix adaptation of “Dept. Q”, a nine-episode series based on the first book in Jussi Adler-Olsen’s Danish crime novel series. Though I use the word “finally” as if there were countless fans of “Lookout” eagerly awaiting this reunion.

For those with a casual love for drama, it might be more appealing to note that following Godless, The Queen’s Gambit, Monsieur Spade, Dept. Q now solidifies Frank’s talent in crafting intricate dramas. This shows that creating an outstanding TV show doesn’t always require breaking new ground; sometimes, simply executing something familiar exceptionally well is enough.

The series Dept. Q, co-created by Frank and Chandni Lakhani, showcases an outstanding lead performance from Goode, presents a captivating cast ensemble, and unveils a fascinating mystery, albeit one that might have been more succinctly told. Despite any potential fatigue towards the classic Brilliant Grouch genre, this installment skillfully handles its tropes in a way that has already piqued my interest for future adaptations of Carl Morck and his team, as created by Adler-Olsen.

As a grizzled gamer, I’m Morck, once a familiar face in Danish flicks but now plying my skills as a detective in the cold streets of Edinburgh. My marriage didn’t work out, so I moved here, and the city hasn’t exactly rolled out the red carpet for me. A case gone awry left me with bullet wounds and my partner, Hardy (Jamie Sives), partially paralyzed. The mandatory therapy sessions with Dr. Irving (Kelly Macdonald) haven’t been much solace either.

Morck, as a rule, seems lost and dissatisfied, and others aren’t particularly pleased with him either. (Just wanted to clarify that “Morck” is an amusing name, no offense intended.)

Moira (Katie Dickie) presents an opportunity for Morck: To enhance resolution rates, the Crown has proposed funds for a cold case unit, allowing them to select from a selection of carefully chosen cases. Moira delegates this task to Morck, assigning him to work in a makeshift office located deep within the basement, without offering additional support and reallocating the budget to other underfunded sectors.

Taking the task as the disrespectful gesture it appears to be, Morck makes himself at home in the shabby office, complete with its chilly fluorescent lighting, worn linoleum floors, and broken urinals. Gradually, he starts gathering fellow misfits such as Akram Salim (Alexej Manvelov), a detective from his homeland Syria who works part-time at the station, and Rose (Leah Byrne), who was relieved of active duty due to a tragic event. With Akram’s assistance, they delve into piles of case files and eventually choose a 4-year-old missing persons case.

How does this connect to the dogged prosecutor Merritt (Chloe Pirrie), whose social disposition seems to surpass Morck’s in terms of antisocial behavior? In other words, her life undergoes a change when she becomes overzealous in a case accusing a wealthy industrialist of murder, which causes friction with her superior, Stephen. Merritt is both grumpy and exceptionally intelligent.

Cold case units, frequently depicted on TV for their adaptable procedural style, are currently experiencing a surge of interest. Amazon is developing a fresh spinoff of Bosch featuring Maggie Q in the lead role as an investigator. Although it’s unlikely that ordinary TV viewers will mistake Department Q or Maggie Q (I’m hoping for an adult-oriented puppet series about cold cases on Avenue Q), the similarities between this eclectic team and the isolated spies of Slough House, or popular titles in the Grumpy Genius genre like House and Prime Suspect, might lead to confusion or comparisons.

In a subtler, less irritable manner than some crotchety characters, Morck, as portrayed by Goode, resides. He often views others as less intelligent and isn’t particularly empathetic, but unlike Dr. House (Hugh Laurie) or Jackson Lamb (Gary Oldman), he lacks their destructive vices and sadistic tendencies. Instead, he appears more somber, traumatized, and narcissistic than the intense, on-the-edge characters typically depicted in the opening credits. Despite his prickly nature and tendency to be easily frustrated, Morck is ready to mentor Akram and Rose if he perceives potential within them.

Department Q isn’t particularly humorous like Slow Horses, which often hints at its comedic leanings – but it does have a number of amusing interpersonal exchanges, particularly the witty banter between Morck and Irving. Macdonald adds a touch of warmth to the series.

A sense of camaraderie is growing in Morck’s group too, as Frank and Lakhani make sure there’s a well-prepared cast of backup characters to jump right in for future episodes. I found Rose particularly interesting, her wild red hair reminding me of Strawberry Shortcake in a detective role. Byrne delivers an engaging and intelligent portrayal, complementing both Manvelov’s calm and mysterious presence and Dickie’s biting, dry wit.

The entire acting crew is exceptionally skillful, with standouts like Pirrie, who portrays her character so convincingly that she appears on the verge of becoming wild at certain moments, and Bonnar, whose strict demeanor immediately raises suspicion.

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The whole cast delivers an impressive performance, with notable performances by Pirrie, who plays her role in such a way that she seems almost feral at times, and Bonnar, whose stern behavior instantly makes him a potential suspect.

Absolutely, this show is one that deeply integrates its setting, Edinburgh, into the narrative. Initially, director Frank, who worked on six of the nine episodes, captures the city’s initial tourist charm with its high skies and cobblestone streets. However, he soon shifts to portray it as a bustling, contemporary urban landscape. The underground offices, designed for dramatic lighting effects and visual chaos (and allowing many actors to say “urinal” with a Scottish accent), and a second significant artificial set, are essential non-human characters created by production designer Grant Montgomery.

The central mystery we’re examining is complex yet captivating, with numerous links to the psychological traumas experienced by Morck, Akram, and Rose. The narrative structure of this story is somewhat risky due to its length, which can feel slightly prolonged at times. One reason why “Slow Horses” succeeds is that it has been carefully adapted for each season with just six episodes. Initially, the “whodunit” is baffling, but it becomes evident a bit too soon, perhaps an episode or two ahead of schedule. This early revelation introduces certain details that stretch credulity as I delve deeper into them over time.

The performance might have been improved with some judicious editing, or perhaps a more nuanced portrayal of the investigation into Morck’s shooting, which is being handled by an unremarkable detective and two secondary investigators whom I could only distinguish due to their hairstyles.

Perhaps by reducing some required explanations, Frank and Lakhani could simplify the technical aspects of the storyline while still emphasizing and broadening the focus on the growing department. Without making any groundbreaking changes, the first season of Dept. Q has already created a vibrant universe and a variety of distinct characters with plenty of potential for development. There are nine more Adler-Olsen novels to be adapted. It would be wonderful if this series could match the one book per year pace established by Slow Horses, Reacher, and others.

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2025-05-29 10:25