Broadchurch recedes into the gloom, but ITV's star shines bright

The channel's handling of Chris Chibnall's brilliant whodunnit gives Caroline Crampton hope that ITV is going to give the BBC some serious competition when it comes to original drama.


A strange thing has happened to me over the last couple of months. I've found myself voluntarily watching ITV - truly choosing it, rather than just not being able to find the remote. I even had to learn how to use ITV's on demand service. I can't remember the last time I was this hooked on a TV programme, let alone one on three.

The reason for all this? Chris Chibnall's Broadchurch. Eight episodes of extraordinarily plotted drama, so slow burning that it was hard to know if anything was ever going to happen to relieve the itchy feeling of not-knowing. At its heart, it was a simple and familiar story – a boy is found dead on a beach, and a tight-knit community struggles to cope with the difficult truths the ensuing investigation reveals. A linear narrative, no fancy tricks with dream sequences or convenient flashbacks, and slow, so slow. When the story finally came to an end (of sorts) in last night's finale, it was filtered through performances of such astonishing power that I hardly dared to blink in case I missed a second – something I’ve found all too rare of late.

Olivia Colman single-handedly drove the drama to its denouement. Her facial expressions and tearful retching as she was told that her husband was the killer she had been hunting the whole time confirmed what I think we already knew - she's one of the finest actresses around at the moment. The use of lots of steadicam shots and unconventional framing helped both her and David Tennant along – it’s easier to bring out the uncomfortable parallels in a narrative when the director is suggesting them visually as well. It was the little things like this that elevated this drama, and had me returning to a channel I usually forget exists. Little things like the inexplicable slug Olivia Colman stepped on when she returned to her family’s home, shattered by revelations of murder, to fetch toys for her children. Or the single tear that the previously rapacious journalist shed at the final police press conference announcing an arrest had been made. Or the final ambiguity of motive – the too-neat solution of paedophilia shunned in favour of a killer who just wanted his victim to be happy.

Part of what made Broadchurch such a compelling series was how topical it was, both in medium and subject. I bored my Twitter followers to death each week after a new element of the press intrusion narrative was revealed, the parallels with the Milly Dowler case and the various witness statements given to the Leveson Inquiry so fresh in my mind. As this piece by my colleague Rafael Behr threw into sharp relief, there is no public interest in a family’s grief, and yet the press keeps intruding and insisting it holds some kind of moral authority to do so. The sequence where photographers jostled at the churchyard gate to get snaps of the family of the murdered boy as they entered was all the more poignant because even as you watched it you knew that same scene has been acted out for real countless times.

The medium too was topical – as the final credits rolled, the continuity announcer informed viewers that we could “go to ITV’s Facebook and Twitter pages to see an exclusive extra scene”. Part of why I enjoyed Broadchurch was because of the community it developed on social media. Unlike almost all the other programmes I keep up with, I wanted to watch Broadchurch live so I could sit on the metaphorically large sofa and chat to other viewers while it was on. DVD boxsets and on-demand services are in many ways brilliant, but Broadchurch showed me that they are also often lonely. Sitting down at the same time every week, knowing that millions of others are doing the same, is still an excellent way to enjoy a programme.

It’s always telling when a show’s creator is interviewed as it is concluding, rather than when it starts. Publicity drives always happen before a book is published or a film is premiered in an attempt to drum up as many readers or viewers as possible, and then tail off afterwards. When the opposite happens, and the coverage crescendos towards the finale, it’s because the show is picking up fans organically as it goes and thus editors feel they must reflect that in their commissioning. This is particularly notable for this show, since “serious” original drama with “proper” actors is something the BBC has a reputation for, not ITV. But so it was with Broadchurch – it was no accident that Chibnall appeared on Radio 4’s flagship culture show Front Row last night, just a couple of hours before his finale aired. The viewers have spoken – Broadchurch will be back. 

It was this last announcement that struck a slightly sour note. As Adam Sweeting over at has noted, the danger is that it be reduced to some kind of “Midsomer Murders-on-Sea”. I can only hope the second series won’t return me to my previous view of the third channel as merely a purveyor of football matches and things with Simon Cowell on. Because last night, for once, we were all watching ITV and it was great.

Olivia Colman and David Tennant in I"Broadchurch". Photograph: ITV

Caroline Crampton is web editor of the New Statesman.

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Does the UK care enough about climate change to admit it is part of the problem?

The government’s energy policies make can make it hard to decipher its commitment to emissions reduction.

“People tell me it’s ridiculous to be flying for a climate change project but you have to get real with it, I mean I can’t cycle across the Southern ocean,” says Daniel Price, an environmental scientist from London. As founder of Pole-to-Paris, Price is about to complete a 17,000km bike ride from the Antarctic to the Arc de Triomphe.

Price came up with the idea in an effort to raise public awareness of COP21, the UN Climate Change Conference taking place in Paris next week. During the trip he’s faced a succession of set-backs: from the discovery that boats were prohibitively expensive, to diplomatic tensions scuppering his Russian visa plans. Yet the darkest moments were when he became overwhelmed by the magnitude of his own mission. “There were difficult times when I just thought, ‘What is the point of this’?” he says. “Cycling round the world is nowhere near enough to engage people.” 

As world leaders descend on Paris, many questions remain unanswered. Not least how much support developing nations will receive in tackling the effects of climate change. New research commissioned by Oxfam claims that such costs could rise to £1.7tn a year by 2050. But with cuts kicking in at home, the need to deliver “climate justice” abroad feels like a bigger ask than ever.

So does Britain really care enough about climate change to accept its full part in this burden? The government’s energy policies make can make it hard to decipher its commitment to emissions reduction. In September, however, it did pledge £5.8bn from the foreign aid fund to helping poorer nations combat climate change (twice that promised by China and the United States). And there’s evidence to suggest that we, as a public, may also care more than we think.

In America attitudes are much darker; in the dismissive words of Donald Trump “It’s called the weather”. Not least since, as a recent study proves, over the last twenty years corporations have systematically spread scepticism about the science. “The contrarian efforts have been so effective," says the author Justin Farrell, a Yale sociologist, "that they have made it difficult for ordinary Americans to even know who to trust.” 

And what about in China, the earth's biggest polluter? Single-party rule and the resulting lack of public discussion would seem to be favouring action on the environment. The government has recently promised to reach "peak" emissions by 2030, to quadruple solar installations, and to commit $3.1bn to help low-income countries adapt to the changing world. Christiana Figueres, the UN’s chief climate official, has even lauded the country for taking “undisputed leadership” on climate change mitigation.

Yet this surge of policy could mask the most troubling reality of all: that, when it comes to climate change, the Chinese are the least concerned citizenship in the world. Only 18 per cent of Chinese see the issue as a very serious problem, down 23 percentage points from five years ago, and 36 points behind the global median.

A new study by political economist Dr Alex Lo has concluded that the country’s reduced political debate could be to blame for the lack of concern. “In China popular environmentalism is biased towards immediate environmental threats”, such as desertification and pollution, Lo writes, “giving little impetus to a morally driven climate change movement”.

For the international community, all is well and good as long as the Chinese government continues along its current trajectory. But without an engaged public to hold it to account there’s always a chance its promises may fade into thin air.

So perhaps the UK’s tendency to moan about how hard it is to care about the (seemingly) remote impacts of climate change isn’t all bad. At least we know it is something worth moaning about. And perhaps we care more than we let on to each other.

Statistics published this summer by the Department of Energy and Climate Change reveal that three quarters of the British public support subsidies for renewable energy, despite only 10 per cent thinking that the figure is that high. “Even if the public think the consensus is not there, there are encouraging signs that it is,” says Liz Callegari, Head of Campaigns at WWF. “Concern for climate change is growing.”

As Price puts it, “You can think of climate change as this kind of marathon effort that we have to address and in Paris we just have to get people walking across the start line together”. Maybe then we will all be ready to run.

India Bourke is the New Statesman's editorial assistant.