Dept Q: A superbly crafted crime drama
Review Overview
Crime
9Characters
9Craft
9David Farnor | On 15, Jun 2025
Carl Morck. Matthew Goode. Chloe Pirrie. Netflix’s Dept Q series feels long overdue for a number of reasons. The crime drama is inspired by Jussi Adler-Olsen’s Department Q series of novels, first published in 2007. Translated into English in 2011, they led to a bunch of brilliant Danish films, beginning with 2013’s The Keeper of Lost Causes. With 10 books in the whole run, it’s hard to believe it’s taken another 12 years for a TV adaptation to arrive on our screens. It’s equally hard to believe that it would take until 2025 for Matthew Goode to get a long overdue leading man role on TV that isn’t in a period drama – or for Chloe Pirrie, who astonished in 2012’s Shell, to get the breakout role she deserves. Put all those long-awaited things into a melting pot and you have Dept Q, one of the best TV shows of 2025.
Co-created by Scott Frank and Chandni Lakhani, the show relocates the Nordic noir to Edinburgh, Scotland. It’s grey, grim and steeped in gritty injustice and grizzled cops. In other words, it’s a perfect fit. Our antihero staring the abyss in the face? DCI Carl Morck (Goode), who is in recovery from being shot during a routine investigation – and is struggling with the trauma, and with the guilt of his best friend, James (Jamie Sives) being almost paralysed by the same bullet. When his boss, DCS Moira Jacobson (Kate Dickie) comes under pressure to solve some of the force’s cold cases, she spies an easy solution: give Morck something gentle to ease him back in, keep him out of sight in the building’s basement, and claim some funds for the initiative in the process. The only catch? Carl hates everyone else almost as much as he hates himself.
The first case picked by the new Department Q – stuck in a dark, unsanitised room with a door still bearing the faint label “Shower Quarters” – is the disappearance of Merritt Lingard (Chloe Pirrie), a lawyer last seen on a ferry crossing with her non-verbal brother, William (Tom Bulpett). Is she dead? Has she been kidnapped? Did she simply run away? Morck’s investigation gradually unravels a decades-old mystery, in no small part thanks to the dedication and insight of Akram (Alexej Manvelov), a Syrian migrant who was a policeman in his own country and is no stranger to people being vanished. As they explore Merritt’s personal and professional past – and how it’s tied both to William’s wellbeing and a string of possible conspiracies including Merritt’s slippery boss, Stephen (the always-excellent Mark Bonnar) – they find themselves accompanied by another two outcasts: Rose (Leah Byrne), a cadet with her own mental health trauma and stigma, and James, whose a dab hand with researching things on a laptop from his hospital bed.
The result is a ragtag gang of outsiders all with something to prove, whether that’s to themselves or to those around them. Akram – played with deadpan humour and a quiet heart by Alexej Manvelov, balancing out his formidable physical abilities – wants to demonstrate he has a home and a purpose. Rose is infused with anxious energy by Leah Byrne, itching to show how she’s been overlooked by her superiors. James, played with vulnerable gravitas by Jamie Sives, is in anguish as he slowly remembers how much he matters to his friends. And, on the fringes of the group, Kelly Macdonald repeatedly steals scenes as Dr Irving, the police therapist responsible for keeping them all on track – and who sparks a wonderfully sincere chemistry with Morck during their heated but heartfelt sessions.
The result is a character-rich ensemble that uses the show’s nine hours to give them tones of breathing space. While that might sound long and drawn-out, the secret to Dept Q’s success is balancing that nuanced, patient approach with a taut, efficient plot. The narrative is lean without any fat on the bones, despite a gripping number of twists and a fantastic level of additional detail compared to the source material. Introducing and delving into themes of abuse, isolation, revenge and pain, it’s a comprehensive but carefully crafted procedural drama, with extra depth given to Morck’s own arc, let alone the complicated and bleak backstory of Merritt – performed with a harrowing resilience by Chloe Pirrie.
Scott Frank, who not only gave Netflix The Queen’s Gambit but also worked with Matthew Goode on the underseen hard-boiled gem The Lookout, is a steady veteran pair of hands – and Chandni Lakhani is a rising star who cements herself as a writer to watch, after helping to develop Black Mirror’s San Junipero and USS Callister. Together, they give Matthew Goode a part that he clearly relishes sinking his teeth into. This is the best role he’s had since his co-starring turn in A Discovery of Witches, and it’s no coincidence that both let him demonstrate his range way outside of handsome, period costume territory. He’s exceptional as the haunted, disarming Morck, at once charismatic and cruel, oscillating constantly and unpredictably between unlikeable, prickly, amusing and horrible, simultaneously passionate and talented at solving cases and bitter and arrogant towards anyone he meets. His sarcasm sets the tone for the whole show, which is laced with barbs and insults that throw everyone into a nasty but sympathetic light – the fun comes in slowly seeing that lift, as each person rises above the circumstances and expectations put upon them. It’s a journey that’s more than worth the wait. Expect another nine seasons.