Writer Robert Anton Wilson once posed an interesting question along these lines: what does it say about our society that we have so much drama about the police on television, and so little about landlords? Given the plethora of crime drama on our screens, it’s a valid question to raise, and much of it is anodyne stuff indeed, holding out the promise that the boys and girls in blue will keep us safe from harm, and giving vicarious immersion in supposedly dangerous subcultures.

All well and good for what it’s worth…but then something different crops up and forces you to look at crime drama anew. American shows The Wire and The Shield have done a fine job at exploring crime and punishment in more complex ways, and now BBC1’s all-week special Criminal Justice is performing a similar function.

Interesting that the series is written by a former barrister, Peter Moffat: his immersion in the actual legal world, rather than genre television, was very apparent. The wealth of compelling detail, about how people conduct themselves in and around a criminal case, had a feel of absolute authenticity that’s lacking in shows like The Bill, keen as it is to put a rosy smile on the face of police operations. Here, instead, we saw cynical cops and can’t-be-bothered-cops, and the script felt that much more alive and credible for them.

At the heart of the story is a young man, Ben, who may or may not have killed a young woman, Melanie, who waltzes into the cab that he’s borrowed from his dad to go and see a mate, and which they then travel to the seaside in. Melanie is very much the dominant figure, and it’s her house they end up at, and specifically her bed, after an evening of ecstasy, tequila shots, and knifeplay. It simply shows the effect one charismatic person can have on another less sure of themselves, and on this occasion it ends in tragedy.

It was a joy to watch a piece of intelligent drama that drew from reality and presented it simply and honestly. Agendas were apparent, and everyone’s perspective was valid and comprehensible: no cardboard baddies here. The nearest the script got to clunkiness was when the superintendent in charge of the case had a row with his boss about resources. I don’t doubt the facts and tenor of what was said, but it stood out as potted argument for the audience’s benefit in a script that was otherwise free of exposition.

This wasn’t crime drama that relied on forensic detail and esoterically motivated killers: no need for such attention-grabbing tactics. Instead, it was a story about human beings getting caught up in something messy and ugly, and trying to sort it out as best they can. It all made for a refreshing and fascinating hour of television, and I’ll be doing my best to catch the forthcoming installments.