A thriller so tense you might forget to breathe
The weekend on television Michael Hogan
Anyone hoping for relaxingly cosy bank holiday weekend viewing – a lavish period drama, perhaps, or a picturesque rural whodunit – would have been shocked out of their sofa stupor by (BBC One, Sunday). Starting with a suicide bomb attack and only becoming more breathless, this was edge-of-the-seat, shush-the-family fare.
Writer Jed Mercurio has held us in a vice-like grip for four series with the corrupt cop thriller Line of Duty, which remorselessly ratchets up the tension like a Tower of London torturer. His new creation was glossier but equally engrossing.
Line of Duty is renowned for its set piece interview scenes, which unspool at leisurely pace while remaining utterly hypnotic. Mercurio pulled off a similar trick here with the bravura opening sequence, which found Sgt David Budd (Game of Thrones’ Richard Madden), an Aghan war veteran now working for the Met, tackling Islamist terrorists on a crowded train. The action unfolded across 20 mesmerising minutes in a claustrophobic carriage vestibule and agonisingly hinged on a lost mobile phone signal. It was so riveting, I frequently had to remind myself to breathe.
As reward for his bravery, Budd – a sort of Scottish Jack Bauer from 24
– was assigned to protect the Home Secretary, Julia Montague (Keeley Hawes). He soon found himself torn between his duty and his beliefs.
Mercurio’s skilful script trod the fine line between topical (there were clear echoes of the Thalys train and London Bridge attacks) and just vague enough (ambitious Montague was reminiscent of Theresa May policy-wise if not personally). It touched on timely issues such as military intervention overseas, state surveillance and social media. It was also commendable for putting female characters in positions of power – as well as the Home Secretary, the firearms chief, sniper, bomb disposal expert, broadsheet journalist and Budd’s no-nonsense boss were all women.
Accomplished as it was, this opener fell short of Line of Duty’s drum-tight perfection. Some dialogue didn’t ring true, notably when Ptsd-suffering Budd and his ex-army comrades were ranting unconvincingly about politicians. Madden’s acting – all clenched jaws and moody glares – reminded me of James Norton’s blank performance in BBC stablemate Mcmafia.
However, such quibbles quickly fall by the wayside. To maintain Bodyguard’s barrelling momentum, the second episode airs tonight, cranking up both the pace and the quality. We’re hooked all over again.
Art sleuthing series Fake or Fortune? (BBC One, Sunday) reached its midway point by investigating whether a small watercolour from a Nazi stash could be the work of 20th-century sculptor Henry Moore. Presenter Fiona Bruce and dapper art dealer Philip Mould’s quest took them to Switzerland and Germany via Hertfordshire. The sketch of multiple reclining nudes was potentially the only British piece in the infamous “Gurlitt hoard” found in the apartment of Cornelius Gurlitt – an eccentric figure who, we were told, “loved art, Wagner and cakes”.
He’d inherited the vast collection from his even more mysterious father, museum curator Hildebrand Gurlitt, who encouraged avant-gardists like Moore – until 1933, when Hitler set out to purge the country of so-called “degenerate art”. Could the sketch have been one of the hated works that the Führer wanted to suppress? Did profiteers use it to make money for the Nazi regime? Each piece of the 1,500-strong hoard had to have its provenance verified. If it was stolen or looted from Jewish families, it was returned.
Mould met Moore’s daughter Mary and raved about his art with infectious passion. Bruce followed the paper trail from Hamburg to Berlin. By stealth, this became a documentary about a dark period in European art history.
So was the detective duo’s dossier of evidence enough to convince the review panel this was a genuine early Moore? There was some genuine jeopardy as the verdict was read and fist-clenching delight when the sketch was confirmed as authentic. Bought for five Swiss francs, this lost work was now worth £70,000. More importantly, it was embraced as an enlightening part of Moore’s story.
Arts programming is an increasingly endangered beast on prime time TV. This absorbing and enjoyable series flies the flag in quietly thrilling fashion.
Bodyguard ★★★★ Fake or Fortune? ★★★★