Ofori-Attah is a doctor who spent many years working in A&E, and her experience shows. It is the script’s nods to unnerving realties of the NHS that hit hardest.
Writer Grace Ofori-Attah, who worked in the NHS for 10 years, once again gives the proceedings an air of authenticity without overloading it with the sort of endless abbreviations that eventually made Line of Duty a bit of a joke.
The Feud has soap opera levels of dialogue and acting, with everyone from Emma’s overbearing solicitor to paranoid Nick portrayed in the broadest strokes. But it nevertheless paints a fascinating picture of an outwardly blissful middle-class neighbourhood that is, in reality, a hotbed of illicit affairs and passive-aggressive parking.
Bean gives it his all as the merciless head of the family – nobody growls quite as menacingly as the former Ned Stark, and he is reliably sinister throughout. But, with its dreary script and inane plot, This City Is Ours ultimately makes an offer that is all too easy to refuse.
DI Wilson feels like a real person. He is conflicted, a bit tetchy and fond of a fry‑up. That gritty quality adds something new to a ratings winner that, in every other sense, feels happy to exist in a time‑warp of its own devising.
It may not be new or as inventive as it once was (it bears repeating that this series’ central love story is a Cinderella rip-off), but it remains a wonderful, luxurious watch.
From its subtle opening to the explosive final episode, this is a truly great piece of television: after all, there’s nothing more powerful than being heard.
Steal is not only cleverly plotted but supremely fun. Best of all for someone with a limited appetite for action-with-a-capital-A, the script leaves plenty of room for emotional storytelling alongside its white-knuckle careening.