Five victims; five inspectors; two knights of the realm (neither in shining armour – the only ‘shining’ here was of the knife-edge Kubrick-film kind). Murder most foul, the sense of the perpetrator’s certainty offset by the utter confusion and fear he (or she) left in his wake. And we saw that fear played out in movement: the restless darting eyes of the menaced, the guttering collapse of the wounded, the stuttering doubts of the pursuers…. and no one ever to be pursued. The newscast script, interspersed with haunting melody and painfully innocent song (in sound, not lyrics), allowed a strange respite from the intensity and ugliness of the story, while the excellent ensemble cast retained a palpable sense of mystery through their disjoint actions united by repetition. It all made for a mesmerising and dark descent into a gruesomely unresolved fold within the underbelly of our society, and that the portrayal from beginning to end was the invention of our Upper Sixth was all the more remarkable. Many, many congratulations to the septet; and sweet dreams one and all!
