Saturday, 3rd of December 2016.
A Potted Review of the first episode.
So I was quite excited or more specifically, interested, to read about Deep Water. Thinking it might be a cool and unusual random offering. By BBC Four in the subtitled foreign language Saturday night slot.
This interest was mainly based on the fact that I had assumed that Deep Water was a Scandi-noir drama.
But no, I reminded myself that I had already spotted the word Bondi which kind of blew the whole Scandi-Noir fantasy.
Hey, it could be Italian, I pretended to myself. But really I knew that Bondi was a beach. A famous beach. Which is I guess how I know the name. In Australia.
Still cool however.
Deep water starts promisingly enough but soon descended into a strangely unatmospheric drama. With overblown stereotypical roles.
It must be tiresome having to dance around, play violins, hug small children and drink endless tea. Because that’s what you supposedly do. All day. As a family. Oh and don’t forget the chandeliers.
The sneering and emotional Detective soon suspects the man upstairs. Mainly on the basis that he wears a plumber’s vest and is fond of punching. His punching bag. On his balcony. and looking supposedly snarling.
It gets worse.
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