Let’s be honest: with a title that sounds more like a death metal band or a niche Mastermind expert subject, The Chemistry Of Death is doing itself no favours.
But dig past its title and you’ll find a clever spin on the tired murder mystery thriller. In the county of Norfolk.
Dr David Hunter, a forensic pathologist performed with languidly bashful charm by Harry Treadaway, is the main character.
Forensic pathologists are a dime a dozen in crime dramas, but Dr Hunter is one of a kind, a world-renowned expert in human decomposition.
Hunter cracks cases with the help of creepy crawlies that live in corpses, whereas Dexter could read blood splatter like a book. It’s different, to be sure.
What’s similar is that Hunter is haunted by his own sad history, which is revealed through flashbacks and explains why this pathology high-flier is now locked up working as a GP in a little Norfolk village.
But that’s a minor quibble in a series that portrays a close-knit rural community in a far more authentic way than Midsomer Murders.
Based on Simon Beckett’s best-selling novels, the plot is full of twists and cliffhangers, which may explain why it’s being published monthly rather than as a box set.
Still, it’s an interesting move for a streaming service, considering The Chemistry Of Death would pass the binge-ability test.
So be patient as the truth about a serial killer with a twisted line in angel-wing iconography crawls its way to the surface.
The Chemistry Of Death, on the other hand, is on to a winning formula, with Treadaway smartly cast as a man desperate to keep the real world at bay and good support from Jeanne Goursaud as love interest/potential next victim.
Episode one available today on Paramount+. New episodes on Thursdays
