Broadchurch recap: series three, episode eight – red herrings galore in final twists

Broadchurch reached its climax with a truly sick – and yet rather straightforward – ending, with David Tennant and Olivia Colman on superb form

• This blog contains major spoilers

‘The drama reaches a shocking conclusion … And features scenes that some viewers may find distressing …” So here it was. The conclusion to the crime of the century with 584 suspects. And the conclusion to the three-series run of one of the most popular and controversial ITV dramas of recent times. Distressing scenes indeed. But what if the viewer finds the thought of a hot chocolate made by Mark Latimer distressing? Is there a helpline for that? Seemingly not.

In an episode that held us in suspense beat by beat until finally unfolding into cinematographic schmaltz at the end, the long-running Latimer storyline was kicked into the long grass in favour of a truly sick ending to a nail-biting series. It wasn’t Jim Atwood (Mark Bazeley). It wasn’t Ed Burnett (Lenny Henry). It wasn’t even Taxi Man (Sebastian Armesto). It was Taxi Man’s son, Michael (Deon Lee-Williams), coerced by Twine Boy (Chris Mason). So the twine was relevant after all. Even though large amounts of twine were owned and copiously used by everyone who lives in Broadchurch, it was the heir to the twine emporium all along. And that had seemed too obvious!

What was surprising for Broadchurch is how straightforward it was in the end. One of the suspects who had always been a suspect (Twine Boy) turned out to be guilty. The only twist was the involvement of Taxi Man’s son. Which, admittedly, no one had foreseen. (By the way, eagle-eyed readers will note the fact that your reviewer may have initially remarked in passing upon the attractiveness of Twine Boy, something which she now completely denies and categorically refutes.)

The confession scenes with Twine Boy were – perhaps inevitably – stilted. “You knew it was wrong and illegal … It’s rape.” “I was back from uni.” “So that’s why all the attacks happened in the summer …” It was clear by halfway through this episode that Twine Boy was meant to be a twisted psycho. But was it plausible that he would have been so forthcoming and just confessed to everything immediately? Presumably, he had to because this was the last episode. “I go everywhere equipped … There’s a moment where you’re in harmony with the world …” Oh dear me. The twisted psycho explanation is always disappointing in crime dramas. Because their only motive is being a twisted psycho.

I hold my hands up to being totally wrong about (a) the link between series one and series three and (b) the vicar. (And the Old Codger. Sorry, Old Codger! But you seemed well dodgy at the time.) I was gravely mistaken about the vicar being a massive serial killer/rapist/satanist. But he did have a key role in the end, giving the series finale sermon. “All any of us really want are love and good deeds.” True enough, vicar. But they’ve been in short supply in Broadchurch, haven’t they? I await the spin-off series where the vicar commits his vengeful deeds elsewhere. Come on, we all know he’s got it in him.

As for the Latimer storyline … So that was the biggest red herring of all. All the business with Joe Miller in Liverpool and the suicide attempt? That was all just filler. In view of the fine acting that went on through all that (including Beth and Mark’s scenes tonight), that does seem a bit disappointing. I had hoped for some remarkable reveal-to-end-all-reveals. But I was trying to make it more complicated than it was. It was all just about a sicko who liked manipulating weak people, drinking vodka in churchyards, stealing used football socks and attacking women using twine from his family supply. Burn in hell, Twine Boy.

Miller v Hardy: the score so far

Hardy (David Tennant) and Miller (Olivia Colman) were both on superb form in this episode, even though they had very little emotional range to explore: they went from exasperation to anger to frustration to wearied anger. “The vice is tightening, Miller. They’re starting to squeak …” “I still enjoy those moments when some cocky bastard trashes his own alibi without realising it.” “Very good, Miller. You should do this for a living.” Apart from Miller’s moment with the disappointing fizzy drink can and her triumphal “I knew you smoked!”, there was little humour to be had here. The triangulation-of-the-phones moment was quite exciting, though, preceded by the Battle of a Thousand Manila Folders: “Your account doesn’t make any sense … You are going to have to stop lying because you’re not any good at it.” And, of course, there had to be a poignant note to finish on. “We could go to the pub. We’ve never been to the pub!” A beat. “Nah.”

Not the usual suspects

Never have so many been suspected of so much and with so little to go on. Poor Ed Burnett was dragged through the wringer: Lenny Henry did a good job here, allowing us to overlook the fact that Ed was basically a massive, creepy stalker with his own case to answer. Did it really stack up that he heard something but not enough to work out what was going on? Especially when the assailants were so, er, weird? I also blanched at the wisdom of allowing the spycam-loving ex-husband to come round with a Chinese takeaway. Things are easily forgiven in Broadchurch. I do wish we had had a final scene with The Previously Convicted Rapist (Aaron, played by Jim Howick), grinning broadly over a plate of recently caught mackerel and leering: “Told you it weren’t me.”

Life lesson

Do not befriend people who are unnecessarily rude about where you live, even if they do appear to display empathy regarding your bullying father.

Trademark Wessex words of wisdom

“I can explain.” “It looks like you’ll need to.” Hardy practises being extra-terse with Taxi Man as his Drawer of Hard-to-Explain Keys is unveiled.
Taxi Man: “I didn’t know where they lived.” Pause. Hardy: “You drove most of them home.” Classic.
“Oh! Some blood-stained twine! I’ll fiddle with that too.” More humiliation for Ed Burnett.
“There’s this MILF turning 50 at this big house … Look at them, old, pissed people wishing they were still young …” This, at least, was a sober analysis of things.
“I’m gonna start my own YouTube channel. If teenagers can be millionaires, I must be able to scrape a few clicks … I’m gonna vlog and see where it gets me.” Vlog away! Because if this series has shown anything, it’s the value of digital engagement.

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