Edge of Darkness

Produced at the height of the nuclear paranoia and economic gloom that drove the Britain of Margaret Thatcher and the USA of Ronald Reagan, Troy Kennedy Martin's landmark drama broke new ground and handled uncomfortable subjects with sometimes unsettling depth and accuracy.

The late Bob Peck, in one of television's greatest performances, is Ronald Craven, a Yorkshire detective whose daughter Emma (Joanne Whalley) is gunned down outside their house in what is initially assumed to be a revenge attack related to Craven's former, and shadowy, intelligence past in Northern Ireland. The plot unwinds from here and slowly reveals a grand, all-encompassing conspiracy extending to the very highest levels as Craven investigates the circumstances of, and the motives behind, his daughter's death.

Peck plays Craven with a subtle emotional intensity rarely seen on television, the deadpan delivery of a man in the depths of grief contrasted by the emotions which his eyes always betray. A supporting cast of renegade CIA agents (Joe Don Baker giving the performance he was born for as brash Texan Darias Jedburgh), amiable but slightly sinister civil servants who never quite make it clear who they're working for (Charles Kay and Ian McNeice as Pendleton and Harcourt), environmental activists, trade-unionists, police and self-serving politicians make for a plot that twists and turns unpredictably as Craven's grief-powered explorations lead him ever deeper into the shadows, until the final, devastating, unexpected dénouement in the last episode that almost leaves more questions in the mind of the viewer than it answers.

This is British television drama at its best. Making it in the first place was a brave decision for the BBC, and it hasn't been bettered since. The plot sometimes seems slow at times, but there's always something relevant happening on screen. I do not recommend starting watching half-way through, as you will end up with an incomplete understanding of both the message of the story and the convoluted plot. Take the phone off the hook for five hours and enjoy. It is superb in all aspects from writing to casting to production, and exercises the mind in a way that few dramas do.

Incidentally - the original DVD release received poor reviews, but the 2003 re-release on a BBC DVD is excellent and includes some worthwhile extras as well as the complete uncut series.

Bob Peck, perhaps best known to American audiences as game warden Robert Muldoon in JURASSIC PARK, portrays a police inspector obsessed with solving his daughter's murder. His investigation leads him not only into his own past but into subversive anti-government groups, international intelligence conspiracies, and globalist elitism. This brilliant program, produced in 1986, goes beyond the Cold War and successfully predicts the darker side of globalism, the rise of New Age, pagan belief systems, and the government paranoia which keeps "The X-Files" in business. Another plus is Joanne Whalley-Kilmer as the murdered girl, who keeps appearing and conversing with her father. This cleverly serves not only an expository device, externalizing for the viewer the motivations and rationales behind one man's solitary mission, but also reminds us how unbalanced Peck's character truly is. This is an intelligent, thought-provoking program that only improves upon further viewings.

I am unsurprised to find this miniseries rated 9.2. It remains one of the most powerful, heart and gut wrenching thrillers of all time. Some other reviewers have commented that Edge of Darkness represents the true potential of television as a dramatic medium. It's length (as a miniseries) probably presaged the future of high quality per hour viewing that has become a staple output of English 'Crime/Thriller' miniseries(nobody does crime better) or perhaps the Sopranos - however -all comparisons aside, the sheer power of the story is remarkable.

If a key to a story is to have sympathy and empathy for its characters, Bob Peck's portrayal of the descent into despair and insanity of Inspector Ronald Craven is a powerhouse. We experience the absolute depths of his personal horror at the loss of his child in curious circumstances and as he delves deeper, we are drawn into his pain and shock at the secret life of his child.

Edge of darkness has so many things going for it , it's hard to know where to start - honest, egdy performances, crisp writing and dialogue, layers of intrigue, the eerie and beautiful soundtrack of Michael Kamen and Eric Clapton - (sigh) - its smart, scary and challenging.

If you are a student of film/tv, see it. If you are jaded with current shows, go back and watch it and see the possibilities. It is an example of the art form at its most effective, making us part of the story and carrying us into its emotion.

While you could make a good argument that TV doesn't have much to offer as a medium, this mini series stands as a blazing example to the contrary.

I doubt if this story would of worked as a movie. The suspense is slowly built per episode. Nothing blatant. Lots inferred. Brilliant writing. Superb acting. Haunting. Funny. Disturbing. The story is probably as relevant now (2005) as it was back in '85.

The music score alone makes it worth adding to your DVD collection. Michael Karmen and Eric Clapton work magic on the score. (A poor copy following in Lethal Weapon 3).

When it's over your heart won't sing; you probably won't have a smile on your face. Maybe a tear on the cheek? However, you'll be glad you watched it and rave about it later.

It's a moving, gripping piece of work.

This is television nothing like US commercial TV. (And I include in that category not only network, but the tragically disappointing cable outlets.) Certainly, US public TV generally shied away from EOD - even, I'm afraid, NYC's flagship station. It was just too hot in the Age of Reagan. Also, I'm afraid, after Maggie Thatcher's gutting of the BBC, it will be rare there as well. What EOD offers is the complexity, the density, the reality of life - much like reading a novel, say, by John Le Carré at his best. And the acting! My God, those Brits - as Jedburgh says, they deserve the Falklands! One note that I can't resist: when we finally first see the cooling pool of Northmoor's plutonium holding - and remember that plutonium was named after the Greek God of the Underworld - Michael Kamen's music gives us a contrabass passage from Walton's "Belshazzar's Feast." And in that British cantata, the chorus sings "Thy sons shall be made eunuchs in the palace of the King of Babylon....By the waters of Babylon, we sat down, yea we wept...." And we sense what will be spelled out for us: the limitless depths of Grogan's international nuclear despotism. Like a fine novel, EOD deserves attentive and multiple viewings.