Okay, let’s get real about Dept. Q, Netflix’s latest crime drama that dropped on May 29, 2025. This nine-episode series, based on Jussi Adler-Olsen’s Danish novels, trades Copenhagen’s icy gloom for Edinburgh’s rainy, moody streets, and let me tell you—it’s a vibe. Created by Scott Frank (the guy behind The Queen’s Gambit) and Chandni Lakhani, it’s a slow-burn thriller packed with broken characters, a twisty mystery, and a cast that absolutely kills it, led by a scruffy, phenomenal Matthew Goode. It’s got some flaws, but when it’s firing on all cylinders, it’s the kind of show that makes you go, “Just one more episode.” Here’s the full scoop on why Dept. Q is worth your weekend.
Carl Morck and His Ragtag Crew
The show kicks off with Detective Chief Inspector Carl Morck (Matthew Goode), a brilliant but totally messed-up Edinburgh cop who’s spiraling after a raid gone horribly wrong. Picture this: a heart-pounding opening scene, shot like shaky body-cam footage, where a rookie gets killed, Morck’s partner DS Hardy (Jamie Sives) ends up paralyzed, and Morck’s left carrying a truckload of guilt. He’s sarcastic, prickly, and not exactly winning employee of the month—his boss, Moira Jacobson (Kate Dickie), is so done with him that she shoves him into the basement to run Department Q, a cold case unit that’s basically a publicity stunt.
But Morck doesn’t stay solo. He’s joined by Akram Salim (Alexej Manvelov), a Syrian immigrant with a mysterious vibe and serious investigative chops, and Rose Dickson (Leah Byrne), a young constable dealing with her own PTSD. Their first case? The four-year-old disappearance of prosecutor Merritt Lingard (Chloe Pirrie). What starts as a dusty old file turns into a wild ride involving corruption, secrets, and some seriously shady folks. The trio’s dynamic—part bickering, part bonding—is what makes this show click.
Matthew Goode Is Your New TV Crush
Look, I’ve always liked Matthew Goode (Downton Abbey, The Crown), but he’s on another level here as Morck. He’s not the polished charmer you’re used to—he’s scruffy, snarky, and falling apart at the seams. You can feel the weight of his guilt in every scene, whether he’s snapping at a colleague or staring off into space, haunted by what went wrong. But he’s also got this dry humor that sneaks up on you, making you laugh even when things get dark. Goode makes Morck feel like a real person, not just another “tortured cop” cliché.
Alexej Manvelov’s Akram is just as good, bringing a quiet intensity that steals scenes. He’s the calm to Morck’s storm, and their back-and-forth—wary at first, then almost brotherly—is pure gold. Leah Byrne’s Rose is the heart of the group, her struggle with trauma giving her a raw edge that’s never overplayed. The supporting cast is stacked, too: Jamie Sives breaks your heart as Hardy, Kate Dickie’s Moira is all steel and sass, and Kelly Macdonald pops up as a mysterious figure from Morck’s past, keeping you guessing. Mark Bonnar’s shady politician is a bit predictable, but he still brings the menace. Everyone’s so good, you forget you’re watching a show.
A Mystery That Sucks You In
The Merritt Lingard case is the kind of puzzle that keeps you glued to your screen. Without giving too much away, it starts with a missing prosecutor and spirals into a messy tangle of political corruption, personal grudges, and dark family secrets. The show doesn’t hand you easy answers—it’s a slow grind, like real detective work. You’re right there with Morck and co., sifting through old files, chasing leads that go nowhere, and piecing together clues that don’t always add up. Flashbacks to Merritt’s life and Morck’s past—his fractured marriage, his distant teenage son—add layers that make the stakes feel personal.
Edinburgh is practically a co-star, with its rainy cobblestone streets and looming tenements shot in a moody, gray palette that screams noir. The cinematography is gorgeous—think dark pubs, foggy cliffs, and shadowy alleys—paired with a haunting Max Richter score that’s all eerie strings and creeping dread. It’s the perfect backdrop for a story this heavy.
But it’s not perfect. The plot gets a little too twisty in the later episodes, like the writers were trying to throw in one too many curveballs. A subplot about a corrupt politician feels like something you’ve seen before, and it drags a bit. The finale wraps things up well enough, but it doesn’t hit as hard as you want after all that buildup. Also, nine episodes might be one too many—a tighter eight could’ve kept the momentum without feeling stretched.
What Makes It Special
Dept. Q stands out because it’s as much about the people as it is about the crime. Morck’s guilt isn’t just a backstory—it’s the engine driving the whole show. You see it in the way he pushes people away, the way he throws himself into the case like it’s his last shot at redemption. Rose’s PTSD arc is handled with real care—her panic attacks and therapy scenes feel honest, not sensationalized. Akram’s story as a Syrian immigrant adds another layer, touching on what it’s like to navigate a new country while carrying your own scars. The show doesn’t preach, but it makes you feel for these characters.
The writing’s sharp, too. Scott Frank’s got a knack for dialogue that feels real—Morck’s snarky one-liners and Akram’s deadpan comebacks had me laughing out loud. The character work is what keeps you hooked, even when the plot gets a little wild.
Why You Should Watch
If you’re into crime dramas like The Fall, Your Honor, or The Bridge, Dept. Q is your next binge. It’s dark, moody, and packed with characters you’ll root for, even when they’re falling apart. The Edinburgh setting and killer cast make it feel like you’re stepping into a world that’s equal parts beautiful and broken. Sure, it’s got some clunky moments and could’ve been a smidge shorter, but when you’re sucked into Morck’s quest for answers, you won’t care. Grab some snacks, turn off the lights, and let this one take over your weekend.
Final Take: 8.5/10
Dept. Q is a gripping, character-driven thriller that makes you care as much about the people as the mystery. It’s not perfect, but it’s got heart, grit, and a cast that’ll keep you glued to your screen. Streaming now on Netflix—go get lost in it.