It must be a special kind of torment for a truly talented actor to be blessed—and cursed—with a face that screams one specific type of role. Frustrating for the real pros. Convenient for the others—“Need someone whose face screams murder me? Toss in that vacant-eyed hunk or bombshell and let the set dressing do the heavy lifting.”
Matthew Goode falls firmly in the former category. Both by name and nature, he’s got that sleek, modern patrician look—perfect for the endless stream of period dramas he’s been scooped up for over the last two decades. From Brideshead Revisited (as Charles Ryder) on the big screen to Downton Abbey (as Henry Talbot) and The Crown (where he at least got to stir things up as the notorious Lord Snowdon) on TV, Goode has become a go-to for polished, upper-crust roles. So it's no surprise that in his latest outing, the gritty psychological thriller Dept. Q, he attacks his new role with a kind of manic glee. You get the sense he’s been silently screaming for something darker, messier—and modern.
In Dept. Q, Goode steps into the shoes of Carl Morck, a detective with razor-sharp instincts and a trail of emotional wreckage behind him. Adapted by Scott Frank (the mind behind The Queen’s Gambit) from Jussi Adler-Olsen’s bestselling crime novels, the series wastes no time showing us who Morck really is: brilliant, abrasive, and emotionally radioactive. After a reckless decision leads to one officer’s death and leaves his partner paralyzed—and Morck himself shot in the neck—he’s benched on extended leave. For a man powered by ego, it's the first real confrontation with mortality and guilt, and watching that slow internal collapse unfold over nine episodes is just as gripping as the sinister, twist-filled mystery driving the plot.
When Morck finally drags himself back to work, it’s not exactly a hero’s return. He’s shunted into a basement (yes, literally), tasked with leading a forgotten new unit—Department Q—meant to tidy up cold cases for the sake of public perception. The Edinburgh setting, standing in for the original Nordic bleakness, adds a gritty, gothic flavor that suits the show perfectly. And to add insult to injury, Morck is Department Q. His budget’s gone, his boss doesn't care, and his new office is a musty hole in the ground. Message received.
But slowly, he pulls together a misfit squad to help. There's cadet Rose (Leah Byrne), on the mend after a breakdown and desperate to get away from desk duty. His injured partner, DI James Hardy (Jamie Sives), still lends support from his hospital bed. And then there’s Akram Salim (Alexej Manvelov), a Syrian refugee and former cop, who chooses their first case: the mysterious four-year-old disappearance of Merritt Linguard (Chloe Pirrie), a young, ambitious advocate. Her story, which runs parallel to the main plot, treads carefully on the edge of voyeurism—it’s intense, sometimes uncomfortably so—but never gratuitous.
What unfolds is expertly constructed television. The pacing might feel slow at first, but it’s a confident slow-burn, placing character depth front and center. That patience pays off in spades. As the case deepens, we’re dragged into a dark and tangled world of lost jewelry, old beatings, rural paranoia, urban nightmares, and institutional rot. And let’s not forget the emotional and physical savagery humans unleash on each other for love, vengeance—or just because they can.
The entire cast delivers top-tier performances. Mark Bonnar plays Linguard’s deeply creepy boss with unnerving subtlety, while Kelly Macdonald shines as Dr. Irving, the unfortunate police therapist stuck trying to unravel Morck’s barbed mind. But it's Goode who dominates every frame—bearded, gaunt, and increasingly haunted, he’s the black hole at the center of this grim universe, pulling everyone and everything in.
The script is razor-sharp, laced with Morck’s biting sarcasm and pitch-black wit. Writers Chandni Lakhani and Stephen Greenhorn strike a perfect balance—letting us savor Morck’s acid tongue while also understanding why most of his colleagues probably dream about watching him take a dive off the same ferry where Linguard was last seen.
Dept. Q is a tough watch in places. It pulls no punches. But for fans of dark, intelligent crime drama, it’s a harrowing pleasure—and one hell of a ride.
Description:
"Matthew Goode breaks free from period drama typecasting in the gripping crime thriller Dept. Q. This in-depth review explores Goode’s transformation as detective Carl Morck, the dark mysteries of cold cases, and the stellar storytelling behind Scott Frank’s adaptation of Jussi Adler-Olsen’s bestselling novels. Dive into the intense, character-driven world of psychological suspense set against the gothic backdrop of Edinburgh."