Traces, episode 1 review: there's nothing original about Alibi's new forensic drama
“People think everything gets destroyed by fire. But almost everything leaves traces.” Honk!
When a new TV drama mentions its own title in the dialogue, I like to imagine parping an imaginary horn or sounding a klaxon. Here it came, halfway through the opening episode of Traces (Alibi).
This Scandi-styled, Scotland-set six-parter was a rare original commission for the digital channel better known for reruns of cosy old whodunits. It followed the work of the forensics department at a fictional Dundee university. CSI: Tayside or Silent McWitness, anyone?
Molly Windsor (who won a BAFTA for Three Girls and was also the best thing in this year’s ITV potboiler Cheat) starred as lab technician Emma Hedges, whose return to her hometown to begin a new job set off troubling alarm bells over her mother Marie’s mysterious death when Emma was aged seven.
Implausibly, she now discovered her mother’s case was being used as a test exercise in the online university course she was taking. Emma was soon reconnecting with her dissolute rocker father Drew (John Gordon Sinclair of Gregory’s Girl fame) and poking around in the unsolved murder.
Meanwhile, the white-coated, clipboard-wielding investigative team of “fire maestro” Professor Sarah Gordon (Laura Fraser) and DI Neil McKinven (Michael Nardone) were investigating a fatal nightclub blaze which may or may not be connected.
Refreshingly, this was very much a female-led project. It was written by actress Amelia Bullmore from an original idea by crime novelist Val McDermid (who made an impish blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo), directed by Rebecca Gatward (who recently helmed two episodes of Dublin Murders) and made by super-producer Nicola Shindler’s estimable Red company.
The next instalment sees the arrival of Line of Duty’s Martin Compston, who will confuse AC-12 aficionados by speaking in his native Scots brogue and not the seamless estuary accent he adopts to play DS Steve Arnott.
Traces was a decent attempt at mixing rubber glove-snapping forensic sleuthing with family psychodrama. Unfortunately, it was far too formulaic. How many series must we watch which begin with an attention-grabbing scene, then flash back from it with a “Three days earlier…” caption? Or where everyone hides a dark secret and we trust nobody? Or where the protagonist has fragmented memories of a traumatic incident which will prove crucial?
The script also creaked under the weight of its own dense plotting, with characters feeling too much like mouthpieces for authorial exposition. When another barbecued corpse was discovered in the nightclub, DI McKinven helpfully said aloud: “So, three people died.” Gee, thanks. Apparently, us viewers aren’t just forgetful but can’t actually count.
Another excruciating scene saw Emma ask her father: “What happened to my mum? Who killed her? I’ve got to an age where I need to know. I think that’s why I came back”. “Well, you can be defined by what happened to your mum or you can choose to refuse that,” he replied, sounding like a bereavement advice leaflet. “And I will always be here for you.”
It also demonstrated how difficult it is to write technical dialogue without lapsing into impenetrable jargon. Crime fans have become au fait with dismembered corpses, dental records and charred bones. “Flashover”, “thermal insul” and “ventilation-controlled combustion”? Not so much.
Still, this opener was absorbing in places and dropped enough promising hints that the series might catch fire – if you pardon the phrase.
