A WAVE of dissatisfaction washed over me as Broadchurch (ITV, Monday, 9pm) ended, less with an elaborate twist, more a mild tangle, when all the main suspects turned out to be innocent.
Oh, there was some tension….
The scenes featuring cabbie, Clive Lucas (Sebastian Armesto), were taut; Miller’s (Olivia Coleman’s) expression of despair while interviewing Leo Humphries (Chris Mason) was intense; DI Hardy (Tennant) ranting in his now full-blown Glesga’ accent felt edgy; and that wait, with baited breath, to see whether Mark Latimer could make a good ”ot choclit or not.
But it was often absent.

A friend started musing on the odd positioning of a mullioned window, while I found myself wondering whether they’d used Farrow & Ball Stiffkey paint on the interrogation room walls.

If so, they could rename it Banged-up Blue, which caused to me to further ponder, is it now time for a new interiors trend? Incarceration Chic could be the new French Vintage. Imagine the colour palette! Police Puce, Cold Coffee. Stubbed Fag and Cell Drear.

Sorry, but it was just so easy to get distracted.

Anyway, all the loose ends were neatly knotted up as main suspects, Henry, Higson, et al, were plucked off the hook, and the path to the real perpetrator’s door cleared, thanks to some deft Ordnance Survey mappage, a speed camera and the most astonishingly fast wi-Fi ever. I want Broadchurch Broadband!
Then it turned out to be a peripheral, character. Which is where the disappointment comes in….

Honestly. All that time and effort invested In working out whodunnit – and why – from, when there was actually little connection the rapist and the victim.

It felt like a cop out.

At least there was a stand-out performance by Trish Winterman (Julie Hedsmondhalgh), who brilliantly conveyed the immense relief of a woman hearing the news that her attacker has finally been caught, followed by disbelief at the revelation that it was just some lad and just her bad luck.
Then, to lighten things a bit, there was a ludicrous church service, where the whole of Broadchurch turned up – and made up.

And, saints be praised, more legendary old-school-journo-dealing-with-the-onset-of-the-digital-age codswallop from Maggie Radcliffe.

Not content with firing the world, she announced she was launching her own YouTube news channel (yes, really), followed by the immortal line: “I’m going to vlog the hell out of this.”

Mercifully, she didn’t add: “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em!”

For that, and only that, has allowed me the slim hope that Doctor Who might be safe in writer, Chris Chibnall’s hands.

On second thoughts, Kris Marshall?