‘The Red King’ offers Welsh island crime with a chill

“The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he was just ‘a tourist thing’.”
Any character who can repurpose on the fly a line from the Oscar-winning screenplay of The Usual Suspects to illuminate the murky mysteries of an isolated island community has my respect and, more importantly, my attention.
And I’ll wager viewers of the new six-part UK series The Red King will be inclined to feel the same way about Sergeant Grace Narayan, played with a winning combination of steely resolve and self-deprecation by Anjli Mohindra (Bodyguard, Vigil), as the newly arrived police officer delves deep into the case of a missing teenage boy on a tiny Welsh isle where ancient pagan traditions appear to still hold sway.
TRK_Ep1_MT_26thJune23_0580 copy.jpg

Newly arrived Sergeant Grace Narayan (Anjli Mohindra) soon discovers the island has its own traditions. Credit: Matt Towers / Quay Street Productions

Wait a minute, the pop culture savvy among you may be thinking. Isolated community? Outsider cop? Missing kid? Pagan traditions? Sounds a little familiar. Indeed, The Red King does wear its esteem for the folk-horror classic The Wicker Man – proudly on its sleeve.
But at the same time, it recognises that the influence of The Wicker Man, from its unsettling setting to its unforgettable climax, has become deeply imprinted on genre storytelling – just look at its many descendants, ranging from Edgar Wright’s affectionate piss-take Hot Fuzz to the creepy Eurocrime series Pagan Peak ( of which can be found at SBS On Demand).
Any tiny town or insular patch with, shall we say, its own way of doing things is bound to seem unusual to outsiders, especially if those ways involve the populace donning masks and ushering tourists onto the final ferry to the mainland before holiday season officially comes to a close.
The residents of The Red King’s location St Jory know how weird it looks, and happily steer into it: “It’s a bit creepy, I know,” smiles the local publican when Narayan points out that her room is positively lousy with pagan paraphernalia.

So how does a dedicated, driven police officer like Narayan end up on an island so seemingly placid that the cop shop is only open nine to five? Well, that happens when you so strictly follow the letter of the law you blow the whistle on a couple of rogue policemen and find yourself on the outs with every single one of your colleagues (all of whom join in a chorus of ‘The Green, Green Grass of Home’ as Narayan exits her Newcastle workplace for the final time – a nice joke for those familiar with ).
Dispatched – or one might say exiled – to St Jory, she is a little nonplussed by, well, everything about the community, from the ramshackle way the local constabulary operates (it’s only Narayan and deputy Owen Parry, played by James Bamford, upholding the law, and that mainly extends to breaking up drunken teenage parties) to the adherence among some of the locals to ‘The True Way’, an ancient religion that appears sinister at first glance and gets even more sinister the longer you look at it.

It’s not too long, however, before Grace finds a bona fide cold case to investigate, as local doctor turned local drunkard Ian Prideaux (Marc Warren), who has slept off a bender in the police station’s only cell, reveals that his 14-year-old son Cai has been missing for a year.
The people of St Joly believe Cai skipped off to the mainland, and Grace’s boorish predecessor Gruffudd (Mark Lewis Jones, revelling in a truly hateful portrayal of blokey entitlement and chauvinism) is more concerned with treating himself to free whiskies at the pub and belittling the new sheriff in town than following up on a case he may have bungled.
Ah, but was it bungled? Or is there play far more foul at hand? As strange discoveries are made and secrets revealed, a vicious annual storm called the Widow’s Wail – that cuts off all transport and communication to St Joly – closes in, leaving Narayan truly isolated and uncertain of who is friend or foe. Indeed, as conspiracies about The True Way and its powerful central figure, the Red King, begin to gather strength, no one on St Joly knows just who to trust.

Red King creator Toby Whithouse is perhaps best known for his supernatural comedy-drama Being Human (also streaming ), and his facility for bending genres, evident in that series, is equally apparent in his work here.
“I’ve always believed that life is a mixture of tones, a mixture of genres, and I’ve felt that television and stories have to reflect that,” he said. “I often watch a lot of horror and sci-fi, and you become aware of the tropes, tricks and clues that are sometimes deliberately put in place, signposting what’s going to happen to each character. I would hope that on The Red King we’ve managed to subvert that by cherry-picking the different bits of different genres, meaning the show stays quite light on its feet.”
There is indeed a lightness of step in The Red King, with the series happily and cleverly playing up the eccentricity of St Joly to distract both the audience and the show’s main character. (Again, the sterling work of Mohindra, playing a character who is heroic while being her own worst enemy at times, must be recognised.) And it’s to the show’s credit that its gradual shift into darker territory is a subtle descent that slowly envelopes one in a chilling and thrilling embrace. It’s eager and adept at wrong-footing you, and it’s a pleasure to be kept off-balance.

The Red King is streaming at SBS On Demand.

Thumbnail of The Red King

Similar Posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *