TThe first episode of Stan’s new crime drama, set in Sydney, features various title drops – almost enough to warrant a drinking game. One can forgive the repeated use of the phrase “critical incident” as it is used by members of the jargon-laden police force, but it gets a little annoying when the show insists on tell She tells us about the incident while simultaneously delaying its reveal, creating an inconsistent stop-and-go energy that remains a problem throughout the six episodes.
By referring to and skirting around the titular event in dialogue, its importance is emphasized, and with plenty of highlighter to boot. Conceived and co-written by Sarah Bassiuoni, the series explores how the impact of a single event can affect the lives of different people – similar to ABC’s adaptation of Christos Tsiolkas’ novel The Slap, although that series was far more impactful.
Critical Incident begins in anything but subtlety in a Blacktown police station, where a police officer – Zilficar “Zil” Ahem (Akshaye Khanna) – has been arrested. His eyes are wide and distraught, a tear rolling down his cheek, while a heartbeat sound effect underlines his distress. Also in the station is the series’ other main character: a troubled-looking teenager named Dalia (Zoë Boe). This opening scene is reasonably atmospheric, but difficult to convey, as it asks the audience to engage with the emotional aftermath of an event we have not yet witnessed.
The script then jumps back in time, before the critical you-know-what, and follows Zil as he arrives at work and Dalia as she hangs out at school and heads to a huge house party at night with a small-time drug dealer (Jai Waetford) who she has a romantic interest in.
Just as the pace picks up, the narrative jumps back and forth again, skipping the titular event and moving on to Zil’s interrogation by a “critical incident investigator” (Simone Kessell), whose character seems like a watered-down version of the anti-corruption investigators from “Line of Duty.”
The plot of Critical Incident is more frustrating than exciting. I wanted to scream, “Just show us the damn incident!”
We eventually learn that it’s a tragedy that occurs after Zil chases Dalia into a train station because she fits a suspect’s description. Dalia runs away – odd behavior for an innocent person. Why she ran away is obviously an important question, although this too is worded in highlighter. The episode ends with one person literally asking, “Why did you run away?”
The dialogue can be quite intrusive. As the plot thickens, Zil whispers more, loses friends in the Force, and makes comments like, “You should be the one I can trust.”
Meanwhile, Dalia’s story arc takes a conventional “crime doesn’t pay” turn: She starts selling drugs for a dealer (Hunter Page-Lochard) who also runs a bakery.
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An attempted drug deal taking place in broad daylight in a busy city area seemed patently unrealistic. The script is littered with moments like this that defy all credibility, never becoming completely implausible, but still lurking on the edge of possibility.
The show suffers from pacing issues throughout. Dalia’s character development, for example, feels slow and rushed: it takes a while for her to delve into a life of crime, but then things escalate quickly – just in time for a conventionally violent ending. Boe plays the role well, headstrong in some ways but with a vulnerability that gets under your skin. Akshay Khanna, a British actor, hits a higher frequency as Zil; he’s quite good and his Australian accent is excellent.
Critical Incident brought back nostalgic memories for Australian police dramas that are older but still faster, edgier and grittier, including Wildside and East West 101. The latter remains the best example of a multicultural Australian police drama that tackles racism head-on, with the Muslim protagonist constantly caught in the middle, juggling his professional, religious and community obligations.
This show had a lot of fire in it. Critical Incident, on the other hand, lacks momentum.
