Chris Chibnall Flexes His Storytelling Skills In a New Medium with Death at the White Hart
Lots of famous people write books. Part of that is because publishing, like virtually every other industry, loves a known quantity. So it seems like pretty much everyone, from actors and former reality show contestants to famous chefs, politicians, and YouTube stars, has a book coming out. And, to be fair, a lot of them end up being, well. Pretty much exactly what you expect: Middle of the road memoirs, weird self-help, or largely unmemorable and/or barely serviceable attempts at fiction. But, sometimes, you get lucky, and such is the case with Death at the White Hart, the debut novel from Broadchurch creator Chris Chibnall.
Chibnall isn’t exactly a household name to most Americans, though if you’re a fan of his television work, you’re probably annoyed that he’s not. The first season of Broadchurch, a crime drama that unraveled the mystery of a young boy’s murder in a coastal English town, is essentially the definition of perfect television. And his years as showrunner on Doctor Who introduced the world to the first female incarnation of the famous Time Lord in franchise history. His writing is character-focused, his stories complex—-and it turns out those are precisely the sort of skills that transfer to the world of fiction.
Death at the White Hart is, as such things go, a fairly traditional mystery. It isn’t particularly groundbreaking in terms of story or style. What it is, though, is genuinely compelling, an entertaining read full of interesting and three-dimensional characters that make the search through a village’s worth of red herrings and false leads more entertaining than it has any right to be. The plotty story is just dense enough to be satisfying, and the interconnectedness of its characters gives its setting a realistically lived-in feel. That it’s already slated to be adapted for television shouldn’t surprise anyone, and if we’re lucky, this is just the start of our adventures in Fleetcombe.
The story follows DS Nicola Bridge, a cop who returns to her childhood hometown on the Dorset coast, after marital issues and family strife force her to resign her much more high-profile position in the Liverpool police department. But her assumptions that a return to small-town life would mean less stress and more time to focus on her family are quickly blown apart when Jim Tiernan, the landlord of the local White Hart pub, is found dead. And not just dead, his body is elaborately staged, trussed to a chair in the middle of the road, wearing a sack and with a pair of antlers affixed to his forehead. Jim had plenty of enemies and even more not-quite friends, and Nicole has her work cut out for her when it comes to figuring out who might have had the motive or opportunity to do him harm.
Luckily, she’s helped by a charming team of misfits led by one DC Harry Ward, a young newcomer to the force who has been dubbed “Westlife” due to his boyband-style good looks and is determined to prove himself to his new boss. There’s also the vaguely antisocial Mel, who prefers cataloguing and research to interacting with people, and the relentlessly bright crime scene officer Reeta Patel, who’s handy with both crime scene analysis and a timely pep talk. Their banter and team togetherness in the face of long hours and steadily dwindling resources make them an easily rootable group, and if you find yourself absently fancasting these characters for the forthcoming TV series in your head, well. There are only so many actors in Britain, after all. (Chibnall’s Thirteenth Doctor Jodie Whittaker for Nicola, anyone?)