Lynley review: '00s detective series gets a subtle reimagining

Although a modest prime-time hit in the 2000s, The Inspector Lynley Mysteries wouldn’t necessarily be at the top of most people’s reboot wish list. Even the 17,500 fans who petitioned the BBC for a seventh season may well have forgotten about its existence.

But in the age where every IP gets at least a second bite at the cherry, along comes this new reimagining, first screened in the States on BritBox last summer but finally premiering this side of the pond on BBC One.

Now known simply as Lynley, the four-part drama borrows from the same source material, the series of novels which regularly put Elizabeth George onto the New York Times’ bestseller list. But it also makes several changes, de-aging its two leads by about a decade, imbuing their characters with more modern sensibilities and minimising the gulf in their economic class.

Instead of riding horses and playing cricket, for example, Inspector Lynley (Leo Suter) spends his downtime simply going for a run. His new-build bachelor pad complete with poorly stocked fridge, meanwhile, is hardly the stuff of aristocracy.

However, the show still recognises that the pair’s relationship needs to be as intriguing as the mysteries they’re tasked with solving.

As with any great mismatched buddy duo, Lynley and DS Barbara Havers (Sofia Barclay) don’t immediately hit it off. "My parents are big in the iron and steel industry," the latter declares while heading to the scene of their first crime in a mocking attempt to find common ground. "My mother irons and my father steals."

The couple continue to butt heads as they delve into the suspicious death of the private island owner washed ashore in the show's cold open.

Read more:

• New Lynley stars on honouring the past – and making the series their own
• Lynley star Leo Suter clarifies how new series is "updated" and "fresh" – and not a remake of classic drama

Havers is left aghast when Lynley believes a Cambridge-educated suspect couldn’t possibly be responsible even when blood-spattered evidence suggests otherwise. "She doesn’t seem the sort, she seems smart," he reasons, suggesting that you can take the man out of privilege but you can’t take the privilege out of the man. "Do you really think posh people don’t commit murder?," she asks incredulously.

As you’d expect, the pair inevitably, if still somewhat begrudgingly, start to develop a mutual respect and a more harmonious partnership, combining their respective sleuthing skills to neatly crack each case in the space of 90 minutes – and thankfully, writer Steve Thompson (Doctor Who) has avoided the temptation to make their professional relationship a romantic one.

As with the original’s pairing of Nathaniel Parker and Sharon Small, there isn’t even a hint of unfulfilled lust in the air, a refreshing approach for a genre which often seems to believe that platonic friendships simply don’t exist.

That’s not to say that Suter and Barclay, last seen in randomly cast festive movie Christmas Karma and hot mathematician thriller Prime Target, respectively, don’t share a winning chemistry. Their yin-yang, with Suter's Lynley opting for the measured English gentleman approach while Barclay's Havers is a bull in a china shop, is undoubtedly the glue that holds the unlikely comeback together.

But, this doesn't stop them from being appealing characters in their own right. Often immaculately dressed in a tweed coat which no doubt cost more than his partner’s entire wardrobe and driving the kind of vintage car (a 70s Jensen interceptor to be precise) that would make Jeremy Clarkson drool, Lynley brings a suaveness often missing from the modern whodunit.

Havers, meanwhile, is less socially awkward than her predecessor, instead bringing an added tenacity which her male colleagues inevitably dismiss as pure insubordination. "Good luck with that one," Lynley is warned by one of the umpteen former partners who Havers has left running for the hills.

While the show never really explores its police force’s gender disparity as instinctively as its class, it does pose several questions. Would a man be given a similar final warning simply for clashing personalities, for instance?

The first episode undoubtedly does a solid job reintroducing its central duo, their contrasting family lives (Lynley appears estranged from his, Havers still lives with hers) only deepening the differences in their situations. And they’re supported well by a cast that includes Daniel Mays – fast becoming TV’s go-to police presence (see Line of Duty, Des, Code 404) – as Lynley’s arch rival superior Nies, Joshua Sher as forensic scientist Simon and Michael Workéyè as tech genius Tony.

Furthermore, its knotty mystery, in which everyone from the victim’s money-grabbing son, mild-mannered housekeeper and adulterous daughter-in-law are deemed possible suspects, drops enough red herrings and curveballs to make the reveal a genuine surprise, particularly when a literal hand grenade is thrown in for good measure.

However, it’s the arrival of Lynley’s former squeeze Helen (Niamh Walsh) in the second instalment which truly sets the personal wheels in motion, as the inspector tries to disguise his feelings whilst Havers tries her best to draw them out.

The fourth and final episode, meanwhile, ups the ante with a storyline involving everything from drug gangs to stigmata, allowing Suter to reprise his action heroics in Vikings with an exciting warehouse chase.

Admittedly, Lynley doesn’t exactly reinvent the wheel. As is the norm for the modern crime drama, you’re never more than a few minutes away from a rugged landscape, the copious moody shots of windswept marshland making the Norfolk coast appear more desolate than an Outer Mongolian winter.

The guilty parties also always end up confessing, no matter how circumstantial the case against them. And while it occasionally touches upon adult themes, there’s still a familiar cosiness which suggests it should be occupying Call the Midwife’s pre-watershed Sunday evening slot instead.

Of course, Lynley’s return to the schedules, no matter where, remains something of a mystery in itself. But its refreshingly straight-forward storytelling and abundance of old-school charm should help reel in both a new generation and those who vaguely remember the original.

Lynley will premiere on BBC One and iPlayer on Monday 5th January at 8:30pm.

Add Lynley to your watchlist on the Radio Times: What to Watch app – download now for daily TV recommendations, features and more.

Check out more of our Drama coverage or visit our TV Guide and Streaming Guide to find out what's on. For more TV recommendations and reviews, listen to The Radio Times Podcast.