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HAPPY VALLEY by Sally Wainwright. BBC1

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Tonight is the final episode of Sally Wainwright’s unmissable Happy Valley. The whole sorry mess of a kidnap instigated by a local businessman’s weak and resentful accountant has become more violent episode by episode. There have been criticisms of the shocking violence, and questions as to whether it’s necessary. It’s only necessary to the casual rapist and throat slitter Tommy Lee Royce (played by James Norton), as his method of shutting people up; if they can’t be relied upon to keep quiet they have to die.

The kidnapped young woman, Ann, (played by Charlie Murphy) was roughly handled, then raped, then injected with heroin, and raped again (neither rape filmed). Not a classic weeping victim, her character is refreshingly tough; she resisted, yelled and struggled and, when discovered in the cellar by Sgt. Cawood, wrestled herself free, wrenched some dumbbells from the floor and swung them at her captor, dealing him a decisive blow. The plucky lass dragged and heaved the badly beaten, semi-conscious and staggering Sgt. Cawood up the cellar stairs and out into the street. Shaking and terrified in the police car, when the force arrived and mistakenly assumed she was the perpetrator, she yelled again, spirited and angry. Placing a comedic moment at this point was brave and unexpected; the use of dark humour as a condiment throughout the series has served to relieve some tension.

Despite the grim subject material, the extreme violence, and the sordid treatment of the victim, this is the single TV programme I’ve been watching for the last five weeks. A nasty kidnap plot isn’t new so why, despite a bad night’s sleep after each episode, and remaining disturbed by the content for two or three days, will I be watching again tonight? Because the quality of the writing, casting, direction, cinematography, and acting adds up to a solid production.

Whether she’s being tough with ‘scroats,’ patient and gentle with her grandson and members of the public, a hard-headed professional with her colleagues, or fragile in her personal grief, Sarah Lancashire (as Sgt. Cawood) is riveting, and the matriarchal lynchpin of the story. It’s a treat to see a part written for a mature woman where the lead character has authority, leadership, tenderness and frailty. The supporting role played by Siobhan Finneran (as Cawood’s sister, Clare) also written for a mature woman, combines wisdom, kindness and steadfastness. Both are convincing, compelling characters, superbly played.

Last week’s surprise was evoking sympathy, if only for a brief moment, for the villain of the piece. Instead of shifty and dubious, Tommy Lee Royce is attractive and fit looking. He has no conscience but he is not emotionless so this does not automatically define him as a psychopath. He looks more like a well trained soldier, let loose on civvie street, with childhood baggage and a newly awakened sense of what it could be to be a father. Tonight we discover if his character is to be redeemed or punished, as once again he faces the ultimate adversary, a furious and avenging mother.

Post script: 

So, she gave him a kicking, Dirty Harry style, just as he'd done to her. The series ended with further circularity: a return to the opening episode with petrol dousing and a fire extinguisher (which she sprayed all over Royce's prostrate form like a scornful emptying of the bladder). Surprising that Tommy Lee Royce would select inefficient, slow and excruciatingly painful self-immolation as a way to die. 

Sgt. Cawood was revealed as flawed; her maternal grief having caused a sort of madness that made her blind to her dead daughter's true nature and made her cruel to her surviving son, alienating him and her husband as she took on the alleged rapist's spawn. Dirty Harry style again, she quit the force, insubordinate, weary and disillusioned . . but she got him. Tough stuff.
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