Tin Star review: Tim Roth shines in this enjoyably strange conspiracy thriller If Tin Star is trying to make a point about the nefarious nature of big business, it isn’t very subtle. […]

If Tin Star is trying to make a point about the nefarious nature of big business, it isn’t very subtle.

In the Canadian-set thriller, Tim Roth’s small-town police chief comes up against an almost comically evil oil company.

The kind of dastardly firm whose security chiefs listen into phone calls like Stasi agents, and bug police officer’s desks.

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The kind that (seemingly) sends assassins to murder detractors, using sniper rifles, firebombs and venomous snakes.

It’s enough to make you wonder if Blofeld has been appointed as CEO.

However, there are certain subtleties, and an overriding strangeness to Tin Star, that suggests all may not be directly as it seems.

‘Apple pie’ town

Tin Star opens with Jim Worth (Roth) and his family driving into the wilderness, fleeing some unknown threat.

When they pull over for petrol at a lonely pit-stop, a masked figure emerges and fires into their car.

Rewind to a year earlier, and things are rather different.

The English-Irish brood have left London behind in favour of a remote, picturesque Canadian mountain town.

There are copious obligatory aerial shots of the beautiful scenery – and it really is beautiful.

Seeking a new, quiet life, the Worths’ only problem at first appears to be the threat of boredom (“I’m going to end up marrying a lumberjack,” quips teenage daughter Anna).

It’s the kind of small ‘apple pie’ town where everyone says hello when you walk down the street. Where crime is so rare that the three local cops can spend their days playing video games and fishing.

But all of that changes when a shady, powerful oil company moves in to set up a refinery nearby.

Rising tensions

Enter Christina Hendricks as wolf-in-sheep’s clothing oil executive, Bradshaw.

She’s all smiles while buying fudge one minute, delivering a There Will Be Blood style pitch to the townsfolk the next, and moving to use strong-arm tactics against certain ‘problems’ soon after.

The locals, for their part, are torn. Some, like Worth, fear problems caused by the sudden shift in population. Others, like the casino and cafe proprietors, welcome the boost to business.

Entertaining passive-aggressive exchanges between Worth and Bradshaw (“what’s your name again?”) add early fuel to the fire.

The townsfolk, initially so friendly and polite, begin to turn against him. First because he’s an outsider. Then because his opposition to the refinery threatens their custom.

The shift from wholesome community to rising tensions, attacks in the street and murders-posed-as-suicides feels sudden, and jarring.

But that’s probably the point. We cover months in minutes, and the contrast is shocking.

Toying with conventions

Tin Star is odd, but intriguing.

Having the cop protagonist be a recovering alcoholic is the oldest cliché in the book; but the fact he has an ominous reflection that doesn’t move when he does is definitely not.

There are Western vibes too.

“Your dad thinks he’s Pat Garrett,” notes Worth’s wife, Angela. The creaking sign at the petrol station in the opening scene evokes Once Upon A Time In The West.

Strikingly, there is very little build-up before we are thrust straight into the shadowy conspiracy. The fact that the company’s tactics are so obvious, bare-faced and up-front is an interesting element.

Normally, something of that kind would be built up slowly over an entire series.

But perhaps that itself implies some hidden, untapped depths to come.

More than meets the eye?

As revealed in the final scene of episode one, the tattoo on Worth’s back matches the living creature left on his family’s doorstep.

This raises the possibility that the attack could be the work of dark elements from his past, and not the oil company.

Perhaps there were more insidious reasons for leaving London.

Regardless, there is plenty to like about Tin Star. The family dynamic, for instance, is believable and heartwarming, such as the father and daughter repeatedly swearing in front of the young son and apologising afterwards.

This makes the cold act of violence that bookends the opening episode all the more shocking.

Abigail Lawrie is terrific as Anna; her solidarity on the anti-oil front running to a hilarious moment where she unveils a dead duck at school.

Hendricks makes a compelling and atypical antagonist, while Roth brings a rounded intensity to his role that is consistently engaging, whether he’s joking around with his kids, staring sorrowfully into space, or kicking a hapless yokel in the balls.

One thing’s for certain: the scene is set for revenge, recriminations and revelations after the enjoyably strange opening.

Tin Star is on Sky Atlantic, Thursdays at 9pm. All episodes are available from today via Now TV and Sky On Demand.