THE BIG EVENT

Luther Tuesday, 9pm, BBC One

STOP me if you’ve heard this one before. A young woman returns to her flat alone at night and wanders around doing the humdrum domestic things we do before we finally give in and go to bed; unaware that, all the while, a killer with a sadistic, fetishistic obsession is lurking in the shadows of her home, watching, waiting to pounce, slaughter and take his time having his vile, careful way with her body.

Or how about this one? There’s another woman, at home with a man this time, feeling safe and happy. Then comes the killer, and beats the man to death, or near enough, before coming for her as she cowers in gibbering terror.

If you watched The Fall, you might recognise the scenes described as featuring in that series, which they did, and as such you might be faintly surprised to see them coming up again so soon, replayed practically note-for-note, in the opening episode of the new series of the unfailingly ridiculous Luther. Although, perhaps “surprised” is too strong a word.

For one thing, scenes like these feature in about 65% of serial killer TV shows and movies. And for another, literally nothing about Luther is surprising. At a time when the competition is fiercer than ever, it remains the British TV drama that comes closest to being a dunderheaded parody of itself.

If you’ve not experienced it yet, the cynical and deadening assemblage of cliches and humourless macho posturing that constitutes Luther is designed to frame and burnish Idris Elba’s performance as a damaged, maverick, brilliant cop on the edge who is so damned edgy and real that the force can barely handle him, even though he’s right all the time – a collection of stereotypes he comes at with the kind of dazzling, light-footed charm last seen when Ross Kemp did his guest bit on Extras.

Tonight’s opening scenes offer a braindead symphony of him walking in slow-motion in the rain, having just brought some wrongdoers to justice by his sheer manly brilliance and brute force, looking weary, brooding, loner and soulful with it all as the water drips off him. There’s a hilarious moment later, when a woman he’s only just met, having fallen instantly under his enormous spell, calls him to simper, “I’ve been looking up your name,” as you do. “Do you know what it means? It means ‘People’s Army’.” Yeah, man. People’s Army.

The Fall had it faults. The way it ended, or rather didn’t, felt unfair. And it was often just too obvious in raising the points it wanted to raise, about our fascination with, and media exploitation of, sexual violence against women. At least, though, it had the points to make, while never forgetting its pulp obligations as a Monday-night TV thriller.

Luther, though, doesn’t try to do much of anything, beyond make Elba look good, either on a conceptual level or as pure, dumb entertainment. It’s very easy to mount carefully lit, flat-pack scenes of women being attacked and evil killers unleashing bloody torment on helpless victims. It’s harder to really earn the right. And, apparently, even harder for the makers of our crime shows to think up anything else to do these days.