Where were we then, in The Fall (BBC2)? Oh yes, the woods. Paul Spector (Jamie Dornan), now in police custody, took DSI Stella Gibson (Gillian Anderson) there, to the car with Rose Stagg in the boot. She’s alive! But what about Spector? Was he still breathing, after being shot? He was driving, through a long monochrome (Fifty Shades of?) tunnel, presumably the one between life and death, or the afterlife. It would be hell for Spector, you would imagine, him being an evil serial killer and everything.
So now the first episode of series three is basically 24 Hours in A&E, more artfully shot and with a creepy electronic soundscape. Everyone is here. Spector, looking menacing, and handsome – even with tubes coming from everywhere and his guts spilling out all over the floor. And Rose – please don’t put them in the same room, even the same wing. You wouldn’t put it past Spector to polish her off, even from the afterlife.
And here’s DS Tom Anderson arriving at A&E too – also shot in the woods, remember? Though just in the arm. He’s cross with Gibson. Understandably, I think: after the shootings she went to Spector (the evil serial killer, let’s not forget), cradled him, shouted “We’re losing him,” and ignored the also shot Anderson, a colleague, a lover. Because – she says in her measured, powerful whisper, while still wearing a lot of Spector’s blood on her blouse – she didn’t want it to end there, with no court case, no justice. Anderson doesn’t look totally convinced, again understandably, I think.
Hang on though, we are – or Spector is – back in the tunnel again, during his brutal operation (pretty much open cast mining). It can’t be going very well. The head doc and his team know who he is. Maybe they are trying a little less hard: oops, severed that one by mistake ... Actually that does come up, medical ethics, delivering care without discrimination. And this doc, mr look-at-me-doctoring, passes that test, even if he is a bit of a dick doc.
Anyway, Spector is in the tunnel, with his mother calling to him from the light at one end: “Peter, come to me.” (That’s what he used to be called, before mum killed herself and he was sent to the orphanage, Mr Freud). And his little girl is calling from the other end of the tunnel. I see, mum’s way is death, her being already there, and the kid’s end is the life option. A little crude, as a device? Maybe, but then perhaps that’s how it is. I’m almost certainly going to look at long tunnels in a new way, maybe avoid them altogether. The ferry next year I think, for fear of ending up in Hades instead of northern France.
He makes it through the operation, and the tunnel, in the direction of his child. Of course he does. Allan Cubitt’s bleak, tense psychological thriller needs Spector. Gibson is the star, but his is the dark force that drives it, that creeps (or tunnels?) silently into your world, your life, your bed maybe, at night. Are you sure he’s not there, already? And it’s about both of them, hunter and hunted (he’s also a hunter of course, the very scariest kind), and their similarities. They are both intense, meticulous, controlling, predatory.
This is a strange little scene; an old woman – I think woman – in the intensive care unit, who mistakes Gibson for her daughter. “Thank God you’re here, I’ve been so worried,” she gasps. “Thank God you’re safe, sweetheart.” And Gibson doesn’t correct her, she sits with her, takes her hand, strokes it; comforts a dying old lady who is going into her own tunnel. And Gibson looks up, thinking about her own mother, maybe. There is a heart in there, somewhere, capable of compassion and love.
But never mind that, right now I’m more worried about what’s going on in the adjoining room (does Spector have Bupa?) He lies, hooked up to beeping, flashing technology, breathing heavily and steadily. It’s night-time now, and dimly lit. And just one nurse tends him. She’s pretty, with dark hair, just like all his other victims, in fact. But it’s OK, he’s out for the count, probably still somewhere in his tunnel. Or is he? He twitches, the beeps and flashing change a little, before settling back to what they were doing. Probably nothing. The nurse goes back to her paperwork. And then he opens his eyes. Oh God ...
