4 out of 5

Created by: Gaby Chiappe

A stunningly performed, tightly scripted update of Nicholas Blake’s book, The Beast Must Die frames the story’s core elements via various traumas: that of a lost child; a loss in the workplace; emotional abuse – from family; from a lover. Sounds delightfully upbeat, yes? True enough: this is a series dripping with emotional weight, as each of its leads is damaged in their own way. And yet, by remaining true to the core story – never setting aside the mystery; the procedural – and by remaining true to the characters, and letting this traumas represent themselves realistically, with mostly functional people trying to deal with matters as best they know how, The Beast Must Die remains both gripping and affecting television.

The original book is a Nigel Strangeways novel; played here by Billy Howle, Strangeways is now a copper, having taken up a new post in a smaller town after the death of a teammate necessitates some lesser stakes. Unfortunately, on his first day, this event is brought fresh to mind when Strangeways realizes the lack of policing done by the predecessor of his current position, specifically in regards to the hit and run death of a child – the son of Frances, played by Cush Gumbo.

Strangeways clumsily explains to Frances that the investigation is now essentially closed; she is understandably unaccepting of that. While this kicks Nigel into action of secretly reopening the case, it also starts Frances off on her own methods: moving to a new place, going AWOL from her job, and using her maiden last name – all steps allowing her to more freely investigate the matter on her own. And by beating at the scant information she had, she’s able to trace the crime to a likely suspect: rich business a-hole George Rattery, played with smarmy perfection by Jared Harris. Some lies and charm allow Frances to get closer to George, via his sister-in-law, Lena (Mia Tomlinson).

While this is still a Strangeways story, spending a fair amount of time exploring Nigel’s part of the investigation, and perhaps moreso how his PTSD from past events influences that, we start with a voiceover from Cush Gumbo – that she plans to kill this man who killed her son – and it’s her story that dominates, and sets the tone for the show.

Director Dome Karukoski expertly weaves in glimpses of Frances’ son throughout the series, and then back to a startled Cush. This would normally be a heavy-handed way of symbolizing the weight of her loss, but it’s tucked in expertly, and the actress plays it off perfectly in the context of each scene. Gaby Chiappe’s script provides the basis for this: crafting Frances into a character who’s clearly struggling, but also thinking on her feet, balancing truth with lies to explain these moments of distraction. And by starting from Frances’ perspective, the story can tap into very emotionally rich narrative threads regarding motherhood, and family, and abuse. Linking Strangeways to this via his own trauma is also tastefully done; again, both actors are able to make these characters seem like real people managing their issues, and not tropes of kneejerk reactions.

Jared Harris is also absolutely key to this. Though his Rattery only interacts with Frances, he is somewhat of the crossover between the two worlds, in that he represents a certain callousness that is the emotional enemy for our characters, and though this is a bit of a bogeyman role, it’s unfortunately a rather believable one: a person readily shifting people around and manipulating with their power and privilege. Harris does this in such a slick, non-mustache twirling way that the unnervingness of his portrayal gets under your skin as much as the tensions of Frances’ investigation, and the mental unravelings we see both of our leads go through.

But: The Beast Must Die also has its side characters, and though they all support the themes in their own ways, their parts come and go a bit loosely, to the extent that Lena – seemingly a main character – gets essentially ditched partway through the show, which loosens some of the logic as to how / why Frances is able to stay on with the Rattery family, and other family members / Strangeways’ associates pop in and out only as needed to keep the world staffed with sad and depressed folk. It’s perhaps a normal artifact of TV, that some things get ignored, but given how strong the central roles are, the dichotomy is a bit more stark here.

This does not prevent this from a being a gripping, and generally very, very focused tale, though, and one of the few procedurals that manages to wring an effect from both its mystery and character arcs.

Britbox originally aired this in a 5-episode cut, expanded to 6 on AMC due to runtimes; I’d advise to watch the 5-ep one if you can, which has more natural episode breaks and feels a bit more tightly edited – the AMC version repeats some bits to fill their airtime.