Suspect is not a comfortable watch because it gives you almost nowhere to hide.
Season one belongs to the dad. Danny Frater discovers that the body in the mortuary is his daughter, and from there he moves from person to person, trying to understand how she ended up dead. Each encounter feels like another door opening into a room he does not want to enter.
Season two shifts the grief to the mum. Dr Susannah Newman is pulled into her own nightmare, and suddenly the series becomes a different kind of parental horror. Not softer. Not easier. Just another version of the same unbearable question: what happened to my child, and who is hiding the truth?
That is what makes the structure of Suspect interesting. It is not a sprawling police drama with lots of breathing space. It is confrontation after confrontation. Faces, rooms, accusations, memories. Every episode feels like a pressure chamber. One person, one conversation, one more piece of a child’s life that the parent did not fully know.
And that is the real pain of it. These parents are not only trying to solve a death or a disappearance. They are discovering the life of someone they loved, but did not completely know. That is a very specific kind of grief — the grief of realising that even the people closest to us have locked rooms inside them.
The story is there and it has all the major elements. But. It was a mediocre well time spent. Too much facial expressions and running and heavy breathing. I did not binge I must confess. But it was an ok watch for the in-between-waiting .
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