Series One. Episode One.
So Braquo is unremittingly cool. Everybody smokes. All the time.
The Police Officers all have incredibly cool, beaten up, sometimes sheepskin, sometimes motorbike, leather jackets. Naturally one of them has a Ducati. Black.
They all work in an unspeakably cool sub-industrial building. That had a red danger sign for electricity with a skull and crossbones head above the metallic stairs. Lending the building a sub-post-apocalyptic meets Hells Angels or breakaway organisation air.
All of this atmosphere is terribly low key yet effective. There is an in-house bar. That looks like Berlin or Paris. On a Friday night out. Where the Police unit of friends relax in between jobs.
We are fairly immediately thrown into the action of an ongoing story-line. One which has a sudden and surprising: shocking outcome.
All intense stuff. You barely notice the paucity of dialogue. Between the friends. The small gang of friends. From back in the day. I believe.
Some, if not all of the group of friends all Police Officers in this unit, knew each other before. As Commandos..
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