F3TV: Luther - series 2, episode 4

My immediate reaction to the series 2 finale of Luther is one of shock--and so completely not in the manner one is accustomed to in writer/creator Neil Cross's detective saga that's is almost impossible to assess/discuss the episode without the urge to rationalize it in the greater context of this most recent four-hour cycle and in contrast to series 1. But leave it to Cross to find new ways to pull the rug out from under the viewer--and also leave it to him for it to have a most mapped-out method to his apparent madness.

At the top of the hour, however, all initially appears to be business as bloody usual: DCI John Luther's (Idris Elba) team continues to investigate a killer whose dice-roll-driven game of terror is not over as it appeared to them at the end of episode 3; and Luther finds himself having to climb out of an even more precarious spot following the episode-closing actions of Jenny Jones (Aimee Ffion-Edwards), the troubled young woman he has vowed to protect. The latter situation cannot help but bring to mind the cliffhanger that led into the series 1 finale, and this is clearly no mere coincidence and even more clearly not at all willfully lazy rehashing on Cross's part. The devil, as they say, is indeed in the details, and the contrast between them from then and now makes for an appropriate culmination of this latest arc of episodes and the ongoing evolution of John Luther.

This isn't quite as obvious, though, as the episode is in progress, for this Case of the (Two) Week(s) is one of the more compelling ones that Cross has cooked up, and director Sam Miller ratchets up the tension slowly but ever so surely to a terrifically mounted climax that is easily the grandest of the entire program to date. But the larger scale does not diminish those details, and that is where the deeper intricacies and hence satisfactions lie. The closing standoff recalls a similar one way back in series 1, episode 2, but this is not exactly the same DCI John Luther we saw same time last year. While still very much a loose cannon who flouts traditional boundaries in pursuit of what he believes is right and just (and, indeed, it is a typically "crazy" Luther move that leads into the hour's home stretch), the "mask" adopted in episode 2 of this series has appeared to take, for ever since a more detached sense of reason reins in passions and emotions once too volatile to control. Always a clever mind, he now wears the perpetually cool, laser-focused exterior to match, with even the too-close-to-home Jenny situation and its inevitable fallout from her former employer Baba (Pam Tillis) never appearing not only to faze him in the slightest but also never eliciting the slightest emotional response; ditto in regards to the ever-encroaching threat presented by cohort DS Erin Gray's (Nikki Amuka-Bird) growing distrust, and, unlike in that analagous encounter in series 1, episode 2, in the immediate face of doom, it's cold reason, not raw, exposed emotion, that comes through.

And with that latter note comes an unexpected epiphany that brings Luther full circle to not only the first glimpse of him this series but also redefines his character as known over these ten episodes: through reason comes the recognition that are no reasons, as in any concrete explanation or rationale for how the world operates--a sharp contrast to the man once driven so baldly, obsessively, for better and too painfully worse, driven by his belief in the existence of love and, hence, some sense of greater, unifying order. The closing question of the first series echoes once again at the end of this one, but in a far tidier and even cheeky context that doesn't merely contrast with its previous one but is downright shocking in just how wildly different it is from just about any and every thing that has come prior in these ten hours--ironically leaving that two-word query a much greater weight. Something at least approaching a semblance of peace could finally be in the cards for Luther, but then one wonders how someone like him could possibly handle or even maintain that possibility, or, more appropriately, if. Now what, indeed.

Buy the Luther series 1 DVD here.
Sign up for notifications on Neil Cross's Luther: The Calling prequel novel here.

F3TV: Luther - series 2, episode 3

The scariest moment thus far in the entire run of Luther comes early in this third hour of series two: the conspicuous absence of Ruth Wilson's name in the opening credit sequence. While the titular DCI John Luther is a ceaselessly compelling character in his own right, what has consistently taken the program a crazy, creepy step beyond is Wilson's character of murderous sociopath Alice Morgan, the unlikely yet undeniable spiritual kin to Idris Elba's tormented detective. To remove the proverbial yang to Luther's yin is a perilously potentially shark-jumping moment at worst by writer/series creator Neil Cross, and appears a remarkably risky dice roll at best.

How fitting, then, that the latest Case of the (Two) Week(s) centers on literal rolls of the dice--on which a (what else?) a psychotic serial killer depends on making his moves on how and when to strike. The pre-title sequence, in which he wreaks nighttime havoc at a service station, serves not only as an appropriately chilling intro to his modus operandi but also the rather brilliantly unnerving approach Cross and director Sam Miller appear to have adopted for this Alice-free installment. With the admittedly most theatrical, just-shy-of-over-the-top element out of the mix, events, however expectedly gruesome they become, play out with an unexpected matter-of-factness and something approaching understatement--thus making them all the more disturbing for it. That opening scene proves to be just a warm-up for an office-set startler that occurs mid-episode, which is shocking not only because of the intense violence but the lack of score or anything else to juice up the moment; the straightforward calm stealthily leads to a rawer, greater wallop than any louder, more obvious mechanics could.

And so follows the rest of the episode, whose lower outward register belies the chaos on constant verge of eruption, resulting in a lingering under-the-skin tension that keeps one consistently on edge during the quiet. In Alice's absence, the new focal kinship of Luther's is that with young ex-prostitute Jenny Jones (Aimee Ffion-Edwards), and their more playful, quasi-parent-child dynamic as shown in an early breakfast scene makes for an injection of lighter energy that feels a bit alien to this dark, heavy world Cross has created--and, inevitably, reality almost immediately sets in with the entrance of Toby (David Dawson). Introduced in brief but indelibly brutal fashion in the previous episode, the suit-clad grandson of/henchman to Jenny's ruthless former employer Baba doesn't brandish any sharp objects for most of his expanded screen time this episode, but his cooler demeanor makes him all the more menacing--and without hammering any literal nails, he corners Luther into some dirty work. This turn, in another textbook example of how thoughtfully, intricately Cross layers and interweaves his ongoing plot threads and character concerns, rouses DS Erin Gray's (Nikki Amuka-Bird) initial concerns about Luther's character into full-blown suspicion, at which Luther's ever-loyal partner DS Justin Ripley (Warren Brown) characteristically, reliably scoffs. (Speaking of stealthily evolving developments, Ripley's evolution from junior partner to smart, tough, capable cop in his own right has been one of series 2's most unexpected delights.)

After weeks of seeing him riddled with angst, screaming in anger and agony, haunted by demons, or driven to the brink of insanity by them, an interrogation room scene finds Luther at the top of his game: formidably intimidating without ever raising his voice, confidently collected and in control... or so he thinks. As I remarked on the close of episode 2, "however much Luther means well for others, it almost assuredly won't mean the same for himself," and indeed the slow-simmering tension finally explodes by this hour's end with a double whammy of both an inspired turn in the Case of (Two) Week(s) and a new existence-threatening predicament for our ever-aggrieved protagonist--but these events in and of themselves may be nothing in comparison to the even larger minefield that is most certain to be set off by them in the grand finale.

Buy the Luther series 1 DVD here.
Sign up for notifications on Neil Cross's Luther: The Calling prequel novel here.

F3TV: Luther - series 2, episode 2

While it comes as no surprise that Luther has garnered notoriety and attention for its title character's weekly investigations of lurid, often grisly, crimes, that is merely the sensationalistic surface that leads to and enriches the true substance underneath--that of writer/series creator Neil Cross's more overarching thematic concerns and, most of all, the psychology of his characters. And so it goes with the second part of the second series' first of two installments; with last week's episode serving more of a "re-set the stage" hour, a simple but incredibly telling lingering shot of DCI John Luther's (Idris Elba) face right before the opening titles pretty much announce that it's back to plunging into more perilous internal waters. While the pursuit of masked murderer Cameron Pell (Lee Ingleby) is as urgent as ever it is so beyond merely keeping the mean streets of London that much safer; as one would expect, the key to capturing Cameron lies in Luther's expert investigative acumen, but even with Luther's partner DS Justin Ripley (Warren Brown) in immediate danger, it also, rather ironically, means him casting aside any sense of human attachment.

For someone so often driven by intense passion and emotion as Luther, this is something a lot easier said than done, but it's a major credit to Elba, Cross, and director Sam Miller how this develops so subtly yet rather surely as the hour progresses, not to mention how Cross interweaves this idea of masks and identity into every plot concern as well as bring the more important ideas clearly to the fore. The serial killer plot does offer up its share of suspense and screams as it works to its Case of the (Two) Week(s) resolution, and the quiet dread with which Miller builds to its climax (aided in no small part to Paul Englishby's haunting score) is far more potent than the rather hackneyed walk through shadowy corridors that capped off last week. But this procedural thread fluidly recedes into the background somewhat and a subplot from the previous week, that of young prostitute Jenny Jones (Aimee Ffion-Edwards), gains prominence. Luther's rescue of Jenny leads to a dramatic encounter with her ruthless boss Baba (Pam Ferris), an even scarier figure than Cameron, but it also comes to inform the greater idea introduced last week by psycho-in-residence Alice Morgan (Ruth Wilson): that of breaking away and starting fresh--but also, more importantly, being free to pursue what you want as who you are. When asked by Ripley why he wears a mask, Cameron simply replies, "Wearing a mask makes it easy"--a statement whose veracity is reinforced later, when team leader DCU Martin Schenk grills a perp (in a truly spectacular scene for Schenk's portrayer, Dermot Crowley) and too truthfully declares "It's amazing how our faces betray us."

And, going back to that pre-title shot of Luther, it is clear that while the veneer shows him as ideally on-the-ball as as he's ever been as a cop, it's just that--a mask that, indeed, makes it "easier." While his colleagues commend him--an amusingly far cry from series 1, where for however well he did, there was always that air of unease and distrust--leave it to his twisted kin Alice to effortlessly recognize what is truly going on within Luther. Wilson's screen time this week is once again limited, but once again does she ever make it count; in an hour with Cameron and his mask, Baba and her hammer (figuratively and literally), and one hell of an intimidating monologue by Schenk, it says it all that Luther's encounter with Alice is, as usual, the most tense and unsettling scene of them all, what with the ongoing threat not of physical violence, but of the psychological and emotional sort. That, indeed, does manifest in Alice's ever-creepy yet ever-alluring way with words, but most disturbingly in Luther's cold, uncharacteristically detached (non-)reaction, appearing to have succeeded in completely sacrificing and assimilating his identity into the monolithic mask of duty. But Alice knows best, for not long after they part, Luther commits a generous gesture of kindness--and, while the hour ends with various relationships and circumstances again juggled and redrawn, as Cross has shown us all episodes prior, however much Luther means well for others, it almost assuredly won't mean the same for himself.

Buy the Luther series 1 DVD here.
Sign up for notifications on Neil Cross's Luther: The Calling prequel novel here.