Out There review: Martin Clunes's twisty thriller has a lot on its mind
The ITV series wants to have its cake and eat it too and, somehow, succeeds.
You'd be hard pressed to find a title more vague than that of Martin Clunes's new ITV thriller, Out There.
If we're being generous, it gives a sense that the show will be exploring rural life - but that really is as far as it goes.
Having now seen all six episodes, it's both a shame that the show couldn't find a title more distinct and specific, but also totally understandable.
That's because Out There is a show with a lot of different ideas, a lot of different topics it wants to explore and a lot of different avenues it wants to go down. It's astounding, and really quite impressive, that the melding of these elements works as well as it does.
Out There stars Clunes as Nathan Williams, a man who has inherited a mixed farm from his father, and works the land while raising his son Johnny, played by Louis Ashbourne Serkis.
Nathan's other child, a daughter, now lives away from home, and Nathan is still mourning the loss of his wife, Johnny's mother. Meanwhile, he is struggling against the pressures of modern farming, and investigating a recent influx of drones flying over his land.
Johnny, meanwhile, has a crush on his school friend Sadie, and to get closer to her he reignites his friendship with her brother, Rhys, a notoriously questionable character.
When Rhys asks Johnny to keep hold of a package for him, Johnny finds himself unwillingly pulled into the world of county lines drug dealing, and Nathan has to step up and protect his son.
There's so much more to the story of Out There beyond this, but to say any more would be telling. The ITV thriller is all about the twists and turns along the way - as long as you haven't seen its surprisingly spoiler-filled trailer.
What can be said is that this is a taut, tense and gripping thriller, which keeps you on your toes but doesn't prioritise shocks over character.
At its heart, Out There is a family drama, exploring the complex, yet ultimately warm and loving relationship between Nathan and Johnny, as well as Nathan's strained relationship with his brother Caleb, played by Mark Lewis Jones.
The family dynamic is believable and engaging to watch develop, in no small part thanks to the work of all three actors.
Ashbourne Serkis gives an assured performance in a difficult role. Johnny is a well-meaning, decent person, but he's also a teenager with all the angst that goes along with his age, and a penchant for making disastrous decisions. It speaks to Ashbourne Serkis's talents that the character remains likeable throughout, and a figure we can continue to root for.
Jones is also strong in his role, with Caleb acting as something between a foil and an uneasy ally to Nathan. There's a weariness to their relationship, and a sense that things have been and could be so much better than they are, were they not both so stubborn. In a series with a lot going on, Jones makes both his character and his subplot stand out.
Of course, Clunes is the real draw here, and he does not disappoint. He has always done well to provide varying performances, not allowing himself to be pigeonholed as a drama or comedy actor, but whenever he gets the opportunity to play with darker material he has thus far consistently come through with something special.
Here, there's the added bonus that you can feel his own personal connection with the material, given his own farming background. He brings his all to the role of Nathan (plus a pretty convincing Welsh accent) – a character who is trying to do the right thing, but often finds himself blinkered and distracted.
On its surface, Out There is all about farming in 21st century Britain, and it certainly doesn't shy away from examining issues surrounding workload, profitability, the mental health struggles within the profession and the ever-increasing value of land for large corporates and wealthy individuals, pricing out small family businesses.
However, while this element runs right through the series, the show's eye is perhaps more firmly focused on the impact of county lines drug dealing, a particularly recent phenomenon which sees drugs being trafficked from big cities to small towns and villages, often through the utilisation of children and teenagers.
This is where the show's social relevance and the immediacy of its story lies, and it's examined in a sufficiently grounded, realistic and suitably shocking manner.
By viewing the situation through Johnny's eyes, we have an entry way into the situation, while Rhys is there to remind us of those whose plights go even further under the radar and unreported - those whose social status isn't high enough and whose family situation isn't stable enough to warrant the interest or action displayed by Nathan, let alone the rest of the community.
The tapestry of interwoven ideas, themes and subplots can leave the series feeling somewhat choppy, with each new revelation or twist leading to what feels like a new phase of the story.
One of these in particular is slightly less compelling due to its striking similarity with another hit series - although to name it would immediately give the game away as to the show's direction.
However, even if this is the case, it says something that it still remains difficult throughout to see exactly where the narrative is heading next. The show consistently wrong-foots its audience, and not in a way which feels cheap, but instead feels earned and propels things forward.
Its rural backdrop meanwhile aids its sense of identity, giving it a visual and cultural specificity which helps it stand apart from other drug-related shows.
Meanwhile, in comparison to other ITV dramas it has a distinct grit under its fingernails, a darkness which is only aided by Clunes's own usual sunny, family-friendly persona.
None of this is even to mention the role of Natalia Kostrzewa Eva, a mysterious figure who Nathan hires as a cleaner after the death of his neighbour/her employer, or Scott (Michael Obiora), a Londoner whose motives for being in the area seem suspect.
As mentioned, the series has a lot of balls in the air, and by the six-part season's end there are still some that have yet to come down in a substantial way. There's a lot left still to wrap up - in fact, in many ways it feels things have only just begun.
Perhaps the best thing about this is that it feels purposeful. Unlike some thrillers which start out with a whole bunch of mysteries and characters but nowhere to go with them, Out There feels mapped out, like there's a clear direction in which it's heading – we as viewers just haven't been given the map yet.
It's the way all good drama should be, and gives a great sense of reassurance about its future. Here's hoping the audience is there for it, because those who are will no doubt be left desperate for a season 2 as soon as possible.
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Out There is available to watch in full on ITVX.
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Authors
James Hibbs is a Drama Writer for Radio Times, covering programmes across both streaming platforms and linear channels. He previously worked in PR, first for a B2B agency and subsequently for international TV production company Fremantle. He possesses a BA in English and Theatre Studies and an NCTJ Level 5 Diploma in Journalism.