Stephen Graham features, hence this trumpeted Netflix miniseries had to be given a whirl.
The verdict:
Most of the acting is cringe. The desk sergeant is one of the “goonies” from Dead Man’s Shoes (2004) and he has the thesp ability of Mickey Rourke doing an impression of Owen Wilson, but with a northern twang. This was an augury for the rest of proceedings.
The single take aims to go for a certain verisimilitude, I imagine, but it merely serves to elongate the stinky acting that could have been mollified through editing. But without the single take this would merely be another run-of-the-mill inner city crime drama. Which it is.
So there’s no point to any of this gimmicky tripe other than it being concerned social commentary. That would be commendable, but then the psychobabble commences in episode three and there are entire scenes here lifted right out of Primal Fear (1996).
It’s total pish and I don’t get the hype. Not that I care too much to delve into the reasons for it.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 