Missing ‘Happy Valley’? ‘Sherwood’ Season 2 Is Next Best Thing 

“Nothing happens in a vacuum,” notes DCS Ian St. Clair (David Morrissey) in one of several police press conferences which punctuate the return of gritty crime drama “Sherwood” to BritBox (November 14). “There is such a thing as a mood or a culture that is hard to see, hard to define. But it can grip a place.” On this occasion, it’s not the deep-seated divisions stemming from a 1980s miners’ strike that has the stranglehold, but a middle-aged matriarch hellbent on exacerbating a bitter turf war. 

It’s a pivot which both justifies a second helping – most of its BAFTA-nominated predecessor’s loose ends appeared to have been tied up – and helps fill the void opened up by another naturalistic, nail-biting BBC saga. Of course, its first season already had plenty in common with Sally Wainwright’s “Happy Valley”; an instinctive grasp of its Northern England surroundings, for example, and the ability to make the mundanities of domestic life as authentic as all the death and destruction.  

The similarities have become more pronounced, though, since Sarah Lancashire’s formidable cop Catherine retired last year, presumably to the Himalayas in her lovingly restored Jeep. It shares an actor, for one thing, with Oliver Huntingdon swapping blackmailing thug Ivan Sertic for Ryan Bottomley, a swaggering drug dealer whose volatility sets the ultra-violent narrative’s wheels in motion. Then there’s the local pub tete-a-tete between its two most prominent female characters, with its casual public setting and revelations of betrayal evoking the Cawood sisters’ impossibly tense showdown in a busy cafe.  

On this occasion, the two women doing all the talking are firmly on the other side of the law. We already know Daphne Sparrow (Lorraine Ashbourne), the petty drug kingpin whose former life as a spycop was inconveniently exposed via an autocorrected text message in the 2022 finale. But her frenemy Ann Brennan (Monica Dolan) is a new face, and one who could rival Cersei Lannister from “Game of Thrones,” Aunt Lydia from “The Handmaid’s Tale,” and Livia from “The Sopranos” in TV’s pantheon of truly wicked women.  

Ann enters the picture when her low-level criminal son is mercilessly gunned down at the local ice rink by Ryan, with Daphne’s youngest Ronan (Bill Jones) and Christine (Rachel Crossley), the daughter she put up for adoption at birth, shellshocked witnesses. Unlike with last season’s crossbow killer, creator James Graham is more interested in dealing with the ramifications of the murder than any cat-and-mouse chases: in fact, Ryan hands himself in almost immediately.  

Of course, Ann and her equally dastardly husband Roy (Stephen Dillane) were never going to heed the judge’s advice to “trust the processes of the law” and swiftly take justice into their own hands. A visit to the Sparrows’ farmhouse abode highlights her ability to switch from pleasantries to truly chilling threats in the blink of an eye. Dolan, who’d previously portrayed one of Britain’s most infamous killers, Rose West, in “Appropriate Adult,” oozes pure menace whether she’s placing hits on innocent collaterals or discussing the tastelessness of steamed vegetables. 

Ann’s quest for vengeance isn’t particularly good for the blood pressure (the second episode stakeout ratchets up the tension to almost unbearable levels), and the depths to which her depravity sinks continue to shock. As with Tommy Lee’s literal meltdown or the poor young policewoman he murdered in “Happy Valley,” “Sherwood” certainly isn’t afraid to ‘go there.’ However, she’s far from the show’s only evildoer.  

Indeed, the drama’s knotty narrative also incorporates a corrupt cop, a taskforce of young thugs flooding the town with ‘zombie drug’ spice, and an unscrupulous billionaire businessman whose shady past may also be connected to the events of the Thatcher era (Robert Lindsay, hamming it up like a pantomime baddie). Thankfully, this arsenal of pure villainy is counterbalanced by several characters you wouldn’t automatically cross the road to avoid.  

Another returnee, Lesley Manville’s softly-spoken widow Julie, gets a will they/won’t they with longtime acquaintance Ian. Lisa Waters (Ria Zmitrowicz) proves that, contrary to the anti-woke brigade’s farcical interpretations, the modern-day Sheriff of Nottingham has nothing to do with Robin Hood. And while she’s not as butter-wouldn’t melt as first seemed, you’ll be rooting for Ryan’s sister Stephie (Bethany Asher, breaking down barriers in a role which doesn’t center on her Down’s Syndrome) to get a happy ever after.  

The Sparrows’ heir apparent Rory (Perry Fitzpatrick) even provides some much-needed comic relief. “We don’t go about saving people from other people, we’re not the f***ing Thunderbirds,” comes the incredulous response to his family’s new-found alliance with the cops. Best of all is the blatant disdain over how his rather convincing “Here’s Johnny” impression gets a tumbleweed response from the Gen-Z delinquents he’s wielding an axe toward.  

Although occasionally prone to speechifying, Graham — like Wainwright — also has a great ear for dialog, particularly the colloquialisms which help make his world feel lived-in. “We’re fine, my duck. You potter off now,” father Mickey Sparrow (Philip Jackson) utters to Ian while initially adhering to the criminal honor code that ultimately sparks all the tit-for-tat carnage.

Admittedly, it’s difficult to get too invested in all the red tape machinations of a potential new colliery when there’s so much high-stakes personal drama elsewhere. Meanwhile, two key subplots are either wrapped up with a complete disregard for believability or frustratingly not wrapped up at all. However, Graham, who’s dramatized everything from the Brexit fallout (“The Uncivil War”) to the “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?” coughing scandal (“Quiz”), largely manages to keep his many plates spinning with aplomb.  

Whether he’ll be able to maintain such a high standard for its newly-commissioned return remains to be seen – given all the bloodshed, jail sentences, and general comeuppances, you get the sense all possibilities may have been exhausted for such a small-town setting. But having avoided the difficult second season syndrome so emphatically, “Sherwood” can, for now anyway, be mentioned in the same breath as West Yorkshire’s finest. 

“Sherwood” Season 2 is streaming on BritBox now.