Death Valley Review – Timothy Spall is having an absolute blast, and so will you! | | Television

What interesting confection Death Valley is. It’s as entertaining as a crime drama gets, however, because of its show-within-a-show concept, it can be oddly arch and knowing, too. Its bodies meet the challenges of The Sopranos, but in its comforting episodic style and the beauty of the Welsh valley, it remains as cozy and familiar as Christmas.

When we go back, everything and nothing has changed. Janie Mallowan (Gwyneth Keyworth) has been promoted to police chief and wonders if her size means she can no longer call herself “J-Dog”. She remains beautiful and gentle and naive; at one point, he complains about a tea bag left in a cup made by the wife of a recently murdered man.

Meanwhile, John Chapel (Timothy Spall) is far away from the relics. In fact, he’s very good, almost full of swagger like his former TV cop-turned-selfie, Caesar. Now he’s knocking shoes with Janie’s mother, Vonnie (Melanie Walters) – “I tried not to,” she says angrily. Janie isn’t having it and, as a result, John is persona non grata at the police station. But apparently, this situation will not last. After all, what provincial police with salt would refuse to accept the help of an elderly but world-renowned person to help them solve murder cases? Not this one.

Death Valley’s greatest strength is still its willingness to lean into its absurdity. In this second season, stories include everything from the suspicious death of a local trash picker (of course, Chapel is forced to wear a hi-vis bib and feign guilt to find out about the group) to the murder of a hipster chef selling food on the beach.

The cases vary in comfort but not in depth or weight – each is as light as a feather and as soft as a pillow. They rely on hilarious cameos from guest stars that include Alexandra Roach, Jane Horrocks, Jim Howick and Roisin Conaty. Each case is solved through a series of mysterious twists and turns that reveal that they are accidental (on purpose?) close to revealing themselves as Janie and John take turns to share their revelations.

The plot is absurdly fictional: Death Valley sometimes feels less like a crime drama and more like a one-man thriller. But you’ll be inclined to forgive his short-lived obsession, mostly because of his trumpet, Spall. As he gets winded and verbose with the scene, you understand that you are watching a man working on one of the most obscure aspects of his career, and, perhaps, one of his pleasures. Of course, he and Keyworth have great chemistry, tempered by just enough romance and tension. Thanks to them, Death Valley is very comfortable in its own skin – no doubt but content.

It’s also relaxing enough that you constantly criticize yourself. Once you start noticing the Easter eggs inside, it’s hard not to see them everywhere. John criticizes the “modern censorship in many TV shows”. Janie describes John’s reaction as “a bit hammy”. A skeptic describes one of their revelations as “unnecessarily dramatic”. All these meta-judgments check: on the whole, Death Valley is guilty as a defendant and a violation of rights. If visible chewing and excessive exposure were crimes, we’d be shutting them down and throwing away the keys.

However, who is to judge? Of course, only the audience, and Death Valley offers audience support in spades. Not every cop show on TV has to be as serious as Line of Duty or as big as Blue Light. There’s only one thing that can’t be forgiven in a fun heist drama and a lack of character. If the mistakes are simple, then it’s a feature, not a bug. The twists and turns of the well-crafted research can detract from the main story, which remains a strange but sweet relationship.

All of Chapel’s researchers (like Caesar and like himself) focus on explaining the “social dissonance” in the skeptics. But as for him and Janie, nothing. Death Valley just has its own daft, sometimes bittersweet cake to eat. Eaten as part of a healthy diet, it is good.