A former athlete detective investigates in London the mysterious murder of a foreign delivery man, uncovering a plot involving the highest political and military circles of her country. This is, in short, the plot of Collateral, a BBC and Netflix miniseries released in 2018 that has so far remained somewhat under the radar. If you love crime stories that are not predictable and enigmatic, with well-developed characters, this series might be for you.

Carey Mulligan (Drive, 2011, Gatsby, 2013) plays Kip Glaspie: a former pole vault athlete whose career was cut short by an injury, then a teacher, and finally a detective on her first real case. She is six months pregnant, expecting her first child. Perhaps a tribute to Marge Gunderson, the local police chief in Fargo (Coen Brothers, 1996), who deals with a ruthless killer. In this case, Kip’s condition enriches the character with greater awareness. It’s as if she carries the full weight of the investigation on the lives of those involved.

A well-built and topical plot

The screenplay by David Hare (The Hours, 2002) unfolds over the four days following the murder of a young foreign delivery man. What appears to be a racially motivated murder hides a broader and more complex scenario than Kip can handle, ranging from corruption to international human trafficking. We follow the protagonist of Collateral during the intense hours of the investigation and, in parallel, get to know a mosaic of characters involved in various ways, with small or large consequences on the lives of the protagonists.

Among them is Kip’s detective colleague, Nathan Bilk (Nathaniel Martello-White), Labour MP David Mars (John Simm), trapped in a blackmail relationship with the mother of his daughter, Karen (Billie Piper). The deliveryman was delivering pizza to her when he was killed. An involuntary witness to the murder is a young Asian woman who is in a relationship with a priestess, an old acquaintance of Mars.

In parallel, we meet Captain Sandrine Shaw (Jeanie Spark), a young soldier dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder. And the sisters of the young man killed in London, two terrified migrants destined for expulsion from the United Kingdom. Cause-effect relationships, initially a bit disconnected in this mosaic of characters, take shape as the four episodes unfold. Relationships and motives intertwine to outline a well-constructed plot.

Kip Glaspie, an atypical and imperfect detective

Fatima: On TV, you fall backwards and bounce

Kip: It’s a famous video because it hurts when you watch it. I’ll show you. I have it on my phone.

After this exchange, Detective Kip Glaspie gains the trust of Fatima Asif, the sister of the murdered young man, who helps her turn the investigation around. Although the two women have entirely different lives, they find common ground in the trauma each has experienced. It is here that Fatima decides to rely on Kip.

Throughout the Collateral series, the protagonist clashes with a system that relegates the police to the lowest rung of the law: after the secret services, after politics, after economic interests. Kip operates on the edge, bending the rules where and when she can. Her suffering — thanks to Carey Mulligan’s performance — becomes almost tangible. She is a gambler like an athlete who must beat her record, and sometimes crashes. Cynicism and empathy are her weapons, dosed according to her interlocutor. Empathy is constant, and justice is her beacon. But she is not a perfect woman: she, too, has to settle for a partial victory.

Perhaps the moral lies here: even if the story leaves an open ending, the characters’ arc is complete in a choice. To open up to a new relationship or stay stuck in the past, to pin down a criminal or save two victims of the system, to choose personal satisfaction or the common good. Sometimes knowing how to choose is already a success.

A “cerebral” and intriguing thriller

Unlike the film with the same title, the suspense in Collateral is not generated by big action sequences, which are instead sprinkled sparingly. It rather arises from a well-constructed plot that gradually reveals its workings. Likewise, the protagonists’ characters never fully reveal themselves; part of them remains enigmatic, just like in real life. Director S.J. Clarkson often uses parallels between the experiences of different characters.

Among them, the most mysterious is Kip herself. How did she end up as a detective? What are her previous lives? The miniseries never answers. Even the protagonist’s husband remains a voice at the other end of the phone. A safe harbor for the protagonist: for us, her private life remains even more mysterious than the secondary characters.

On second thought, however, this can be a strength of the miniseries: leaving viewers wanting to discover more, in an era of remakes and reboots, is still an element that sets it apart from the crowd.