Any well-reviewed crime drama that draws numerous comparisons to Apple TV’s brilliant Slow Horses will easily earn a place on my to-watch list, but as soon as Dept. Q hit Netflix last week, I hit play without hesitation. The reason I was in such a hurry to dive in is that I live in Edinburgh — the city where the new detective show is set.
Edinburgh is often used as a filming location, but most of the time it simply provides a picturesque and/or historical backdrop for a TV show or film — it’s more about the aesthetic effect rather than playing a pivotal role in the plot.
Dept. Q is different. Jaded detective Carl Morck, played by a grizzled Matthew Goode, who is recovering from a shooting that killed one police officer, nearly killed him and paralysed his partner on a call-out, has been tasked with running a new department delving into Edinburgh’s cold cases. The case that Goode picks out, along with the circumstances surrounding his shooting, has complex, knotty links to Edinburgh’s justice system and criminal underworld.
Here, the city provides more than just a pretty skyline — it’s pulled into the foreground, with the key players moving between the grand courts on Edinburgh’s famous Royal Mile and the grimier parts of the city that tourists never see. As someone who calls Edinburgh home, I’m more than familiar with the landmarks, but I don’t recognize the side of the city I see in the show at all. That’s not to say it’s not accurate.
Edinburgh Castle is obviously a familiar sight to me.
Sure, Edinburgh isn’t exactly a hotbed of violent crime compared with other cities in the UK and definitely compared with cities in the US. In the five years I’ve lived here, I can remember only one fatal shooting making the news. But I also fully acknowledge that the majority of organized crime is often hidden from the view of those not immersed in that world.
Occasionally, violent incidents, police raids or trials spill over, sending ripples of anxiety through neighborhoods and cropping up in headlines. But artistic portrayals, while often exaggerated for dramatic effect, can expose us to versions of places that otherwise might remain hidden from view.
As a city famed for its beauty, often thought of as genteel and rather sedate, it’s interesting to see Edinburgh portrayed as a place that is so much more than the tourist ideal. Not since the 1996 film Trainspotting has a less romanticized vision of the city been seen on screen.
Dept. Q even wasn’t originally set in Edinburgh — it’s actually adapted from a Danish novel of the same name — but as a resident, I appreciated the way it provided a different perspective on the place that I know and love. It was also fun to spot parts of town I’m intimately familiar with appear in a relatively high-production show — the castle view from outside my favorite indie record store, for example.
There are many flaws with Dept Q, from little niggles (what local journalist can afford to drive a Porsche?) to pacing issues — especially in the first episode. The plot is so meaty that at times it becomes convoluted. But in spite of all of this, I found myself staying up past my bedtime to watch “just one more episode” — as my husband and I would tell each other with a sideways glance, fully aware that we were succumbing to a full-on binge.
Is it perfect? No. Am I already hankering after season 2? Absolutely. Am I hoping Edinburgh will loom even larger in future episodes? I’m asking nicely — yes, please.
