3x01 Episode 1

[7.6/10] The opening 15-20 minutes of Broadchurch’s third season are almost perfect. I was struck by the contrast. The traumatic aftershock in the shadow of sexual assault goes as well as humanyl possible. The police are kind and considerate. The victim goes to a rape crisis facility soon after she makes contact with authorities. The people there alert her of her rights and resources. They comfort her and guide her through the necessary steps to collect forensic evidence. The folks trained for this situation offer her support, provide her with resources, and make sure she knows that help is available now or whenever she might want it.

And it’s still utterly harrowing and heart-rending. Julie Hesmondhalgh (Trish) does a fantastic job communicating the sense of someone wholly traumatized by what she’s experienced. At the same time, these scenes also expertly conveyed how, even when everyone involved is doing everything right, the simple steps necessary to talk about the assault, to adminsiter rape kits and other evidentiary steps, can be almost as traumaitizng, another difficulty and loss of privacy, brought on by a violation. Those moments are a brilliantly-written and acted encapsulation of how even when everything goes right, you can still be forced to steep in what’s gone wrong.

At the same time, these scenes are a great tribute to the dynamic and evolution of Hardy and Miller. He still thinks she’s too close and allows things to get too personal. She still has to chastise him for not performing the simple courtesy of making some tea before he goes snooping about. Despite Hardy’s directness to the point of curtness, when Trish apologizes, he tells her she has nothing to be sorry for, a vindication of the empathy that’s grown within him since partnering with Ellie. And despite the peerless empathy Miller displays when comforting and questioning Trish, she’s still the one who questions whether this really was an act perpetrated by a stranger, rather than someone Trish knew, showing how she’s taken on some of Hardy’s cynicism and suspicion after all she’s been through. There’s character evolution at play, and it’s great.

Then the rest of the episode happens.

Look, the rest of the episode isn’t bad, exactly, but it isn’t nearly as interesting or well-done. Let’s start with this: put the Latimers to bed please. I know that’s unlikely to happen, but the fact of the matter is that their story is done. I’m not saying there’s not something worth exploring on how a family is doing three years after a grisly crime, but they’ve always been an uneven part of the show, and they have very little relevance to the main throughline of this season (or so it would seem).

Beth turning out to be the crisis counselor for Trish is awfully convenient. And I’d be inclined to accept it as within the realm of willing suspension of disbelief -- I can buy Beth wanting to help other women in crisis -- if it was the only part of their involvement here. Instead, we have to touch on Mark writing a book with Maggie, and he and Beth having split up (hooray!), and his sad bachelor life. I just don’t care. Maybe the show will turn me around. It’s found unexpected highlights with the Latimers when I’d written them off. But they’re an increasingly vestigial appendage on a show that seems to have (or at least should have) moved on.

Then we have a porn-addled Tom story for some reason. Again, it’s early, and maybe Broadchurch is going somewhere with this. But it’s odd, to say the least, that Ellie draws a line between her hormone-filled teenage son looking at pornography on the Internet and her deviant child-murderer ex-husband. I liked the Tom material last season, so I want to give this a shot, but it’s a weird place to start.

I do like Hardy’s daughter showing up to spend time with her dad. There’s fruitful material there that the show’s gestured to in past seasons but never fully explored. It also makes sense that she would visit her dad, and seeing the kind of father Hardy is after the parental traumas he’s witnessed in his job portends interesting things.

I’m less interested in Ellie’s dad showing up after her mom passed. It feels random and the injection of a character out of whole cloth for the purposes of drama, which I always bristle at. But while I’m a broken record on this, it’s still early, and there’s time for good acting and good writing to make up for the suddenness and contrivedness of a new major figure’s arrival.

Otherwise we get more intrigue and investigation, with hints as to who was at the party where Trish was raped and details from the crime scene. It’s hard to say too much too soon, but Broadchurch at least does a solid job of the block and tackle for establishing a mystery.

On the whole, Broadchurch is the rare show that I trust to handle a story of rape with the seriousness and grace it deserves. The series has veered toward the lurid at times, but the opening scenes earn it a lot of credit for demonstrating how these events should be treated, while not pretending that it makes things any easier for the victim. The quality of that makes me hopeful for what this season, and this storyline in particular, has in store, but the ensuing T.V. drama detritus that follows in its wake makes me fearful that the rest of the show won’t be able to keep up.

Top Suspects:

-- 1. Cath’s husband -- I dunno. He just seems shady. He’s a pretty obvious red herring this early in the game, but he’s the most suspicious so he gets the top spot with little to go on.

-- 2. Trish’s ex -- It can’t be him, because it’s too obvious an answer, and that wouldn’t make for a very good mystery. But since he’s a major figure in Trish’s life and we haven’t yet met him, there’s at least room for the show to do something with him that’s shocking and yet meaningful, so he gets the #2 spot.

-- 3. Cab driver guy. -- Again, wins a place out of pure shadiness, but seems like an obvious red herring.

-- 4. Trish’s boss -- Same. He’s a jerk, but the answer seems too easy, and the optics of it would likely be prohibitive.

-- 5. Porn-Addled Tom -- I’m just kidding, mostly. But if we’re playing by season 1 rules, then it’s the most shocking and dramatic answer there could be, so I can’t fully discount it!