Cracker: The Big Crunch

The Big Crunch 
Air dates: 10/31, 11/7 and 11/14/1994
Written: Ted Whitehead

Directed: Julian Jarrold

"A desperate grope and a hopeless shag in a godless universe."

The Big Crunch was the first episode not written by Jimmy McGovern. McGovern had tired of the show, and though he contributed two further scripts (Men Should Weep and Brotherly Love), he leaned on Ted Whitehead and Paul Abbot as replacements. Possibly Crunch was intended as a breather, a routine whodunnit between two exceedingly bleak episodes. As a Cracker episode though, it's not up to snuff.

The Manchester police investigate the disappearance of Joanne Barnes (Samantha Morton), an outcast 16 year old. DCI Wise believes Joanne merely ran away, but Fitz isn't so sure. After Joanne turns up drugged and tattooed with curious writing, police arrest Dean Saunders (Darrell Tighe), a mentally deficient handyman with a thing for Joanne. But Fitz believes that Jim Trant (Jim Carter), Joanne's school teacher and leader of a small Christian sect, holds the key to the mystery.

Most TV shows have a sizable staff that can survive the departure of individual writers. True, they provide different shades to their work: distinct takes on the protagonists, personalized dialogue, focus on pet themes. But a program like CSI remains basically the same, whether Dustin Lee Abraham or Elizabeth Devine pens an individual episode. Cracker was Jimmy McGovern's show, possessing a distinct voice even in his weaker installments. Neither of his replacements handled the stories or characters half so well.

The Big Crunch suffers from its strictly formula approach. There are few easier targets than religious fanatics, so Whitehead earns no originality points by revealing Trant as a hypocrite. Worse, the villains lack McGovern's humanizing touch: Trant is a power-mad pervert, his wife and sister-in-law angry biddies, with only Michael and Dean receiving any sympathy. Coming right after the brilliant To Be a Somebody, with its rich characterization and emotional angst, Crunch feels disappointingly rote.

Whitehead's scenes of personal drama feel perfunctory, when not exaggerated. During one heated exchange, Fitz throws a for sale sign through Judith's windshield! It's a funny moment, yet plays a bit too broad on this understated show. Fitz and Penhaligon finally go to bed, a development which understandably distresses Mark. Their scenes work well; by now Robbie Coltrane and Geraldine Somervile have such easy chemistry they overcome Whitehead's pedestrian script.

Even better, Lorcan Cranitch shows the first cracks in Jimmy Beck's sanity. Disgusted with himself for showing compassion to Albie, he browbeats Dean into confessing, with dire consequences. Fitz doesn't help by twisting the knife, nastily telling Jimmy (after Beck blames Fitz for Dean's suicide) that now they both feel the burden of causing someone's death. Beck's suspicion that Penhaligon betrayed his confidence over Bilborough's death sets the upcoming conflict in motion.

Jim Carter makes ideal casting as Trant. He's the perfect mixture of smooth charisma, craven selfishness and righteous hypocrisy, making a one-note villain credible. As Trant's wife and sister-in-law, Maureen O'Brien and Cherith Taylor exude understated nastiness. But Samantha Morton hasn't much to do other than act distraught, and Darren Tighe's man-child act wears thin fast. Worst is James Fleet as Trant's brother Michael, a walking plot device.

Big Crunch's biggest misstep comes in its structure, with Whitehead making everything too neat and convenient. Fitz has a heart-to-heart with Mark, who reveals a grasp of astrophysics never hinted at elsewhere. Just so happens his theoretical model of the universe matches the drawings on Joanne's body. Imagine! But that's nothing next to the cringeworthy denouement, where Fitz browbeats Trant before a congregation, before Michael finally confesses. In a Hitchcock movie, this might feel clever or at least organic. On Cracker, it just doesn't work.