Death Valley review: Timothy Spall's new show might be as subtle as a brick, but this cosy crime caper is what we need right now
Cosy crime is a big thing these days – a direct line from Midsomer Murders, through New Tricks to Death in Paradise, all the way up to last year's big hit Ludwig and now, Death Valley (BBC1, Sun, 8.15pm).
All of them share certain traits. There's always a couple of main crime-busters – one of whom is usually marked as quirky, with some sort of off-kilter personality trait. There's a regular supporting cast of junior police officers, all of varying levels of competence or comic relief.
There's often a picturesque setting – Cambridge, the rolling hills of the Home Counties, the Caribbean – and an ever-revolving door of guest stars as the suspects, all of 'oh, that's him out of that thing' variety.
The trouble with sharing so many similarities with so many other shows is that it makes it very difficult to stand out.


Often it comes down to the inventiveness of the murders our detectives are detecting – whether it's being bonked on the head by a wheel of cheese, being drowned in a vat of beer or being poisoned by a cigar.
Which means Death Valley doesn't get off to a great start when the victim in this week's opening episode was killed at his desk, with a pistol.
As a method of murder, it doesn't even reach Cluedo levels of lead piping in the conservatory.
However, what Death Valley has going for it is the strength of its central pairing.


DS Janie Mallowan (Gwyneth Keyworth) is a keen-as-mustard young detective who's stream-of-consciousness style of talking is both her biggest weakness and her biggest strength – meaning she says things that might seem socially awkward, but it also carries her through those awkwardnesses to the desired destination.
That's why, when she knocks on the door to a potential witness to this week's murder to find washed-up actor John Chapel (Timothy Spall) – who also happened to be the lead in her favourite old TV show Caesar – she immediately attaches herself to him and suggests he could help her crack the case.
It's very much an unlikely pairing – young enthusiastic Janie and the old curmudgeon John – but they find they have much in common, mainly because they both put the odd in odd couple.
But Paul Doolan's dialogue is quick enough, and witty enough, to convince and you find yourself enjoying the 45 minutes you spend in their company.


Chapel has retreated from the acting world – and it would be a surprise if a past relationship, hinted at, doesn't come back in a recurring storyline – but he uses his actorly techniques to deduce who did what to him.
“Actions are character, that's Aristotle,” he tells Janie. “A person's actions are always in line with their character.”
Meanwhile, the supporting characters all get their fair share of funny lines.
A SOCO at the crime scene in the glossy, Architectural Digest home of the victim says to Janie: “I wouldn't be killing myself if I had a house like this. Have you seen the size of the kitchen island?”


The setting is suitably picturesque, with lovely cottages and cafes and it despite it being as subtle as a brick, it's all hugely enjoyable and gallops along at such a clip you don't have time to dwell on its shortcomings.
Like many of its cosy crime predecessors, the actual murder and the solutions don't necessarily matter – it's how you get there that counts, and – in a world full of horror – a journey into comfort, familiarity and, yes, cosiness, is exactly what we need right now.