‘Happy Valley’ on Acorn TV: How Two Sisters Talking In A Café Produced One Of This Year’s Best TV Scenes

Forget the Roy kids finding out their father is on death’s door in Succession, the hospital rescue in The Last of Us, and Amy and Danny’s final drive-off in Beef. The most gripping TV scene of the year so far revolves around a hushed conversation between two middle-aged sisters in a local café. In fact, the entirety of Happy Valley’s third and final season, which arrived on Acorn TV four months after dominating the U.K. cultural discourse, is a masterclass in delivering high drama in the most organic way possible. 

It’s difficult to set the scene in question without providing major spoilers. Still, even in the knowledge of every vivid insult hurled (“deranged, murdering subhuman piece of excrement”), every pitiful justification for betrayal and every “moderately interesting-looking sandwich” consumed, the two-hander still compels every single second of its ten impossibly raw minutes. 

Half of that is down to creator Sally Wainwright’s uncanny ability to nail the way ordinary folk — more specifically, ordinary folk in the North of England — speak. And the other half is down to the remarkable performances of Sarah Lancashire and Siobhan Finneran as Sgt. Catherine Cawood and Clare Cartwright, both of whom can convey a gamut of emotions without ever resorting to the usual award-baiting histrionics.

The seeds for this magnetic showdown are sewn at the end of the season opener when Inspector Mike Taylor (Rick Warden) informs Catherine that teenage grandson Ryan (Rhys Connah) has secretly been reconnecting with his father in prison. Tommy Lee Royce (James Norton), of course, is the man whose abuse led to Catherine’s daughter committing suicide, who kidnapped and raped her daughter-in-law Ann (Charlie Murphy) and who nearly set himself and Ryan on fire on a canal boat among many other heinous crimes. Catherine understandably hates Royce with every fiber of her being and presumed she’d deterred her only grandchild from ever developing any kind of bond. 

On further investigation, it’s revealed the underage Ryan has been accompanied by the person Catherine most trusted, Clare, and her truly awful boyfriend Neil (Con O’Neill): the latter’s inappropriate interference, coupled with a voice that sounds like nails down a chalkboard, makes him this season’s new hate figure. Instead of immediately confronting her younger sibling head on, though, Catherine spends the second episode giving her the silent treatment before following the sneaky trio on their next prison visit.

While flashier dramas would then opt for a Fast and Furious-esque car chase full of ridiculous obstacles, Happy Valley offers a resolutely low-speed pursuit. Having borrowed a vehicle from recently released convict Alison (Susan Lynch), Catherine is essentially able to hide in plain sight throughout the short journey to Sheffield. And after dropping off Ryan and Neil at the prison gates, Clare nearly walks past her while using a pay-and-display machine. It’s a typically measured approach which allows Lancashire, last seen giving an Emmy-nominated portrayal of Julia Childs in the HBO biopic of the beloved TV chef, to say everything without saying anything at all. 

By the time she’s followed Clare to a nearby café, and witnessed the betrayal with her own eyes, the sergeant is quietly seething with rage. Yet once again, Wainwright keeps audiences waiting for the dramatic encounter, racking up the tension by having Catherine sit patiently outside, watching Clare sit down to lunch and then phoning her to give one last-ditch chance to come clean about her whereabouts. As Clare insists they’re all on a carefree shopping trip, you can practically feel her sister’s eyes burning holes into the back of her neck.

Although soon told she’s “never been overly bright,” Clare does sense something is amiss. More interested in giving her sister enough rope to hang herself with, Catherine barely utters more than a few words. But Clare certainly doesn’t know that essentially, to paraphrase a horror trope, the call is coming from inside the house. 

However, just when you think Catherine may walk away having gathered the evidence needed, she heads straight into the café as Clare’s about to take her first bite, greeting her with a straight-forward “Hiya” while making herself comfortable at the other side of the small table. Cue the second episode’s closing credits. Happy Valley sure knows how to drop a cliffhanger. 

Picking up exactly where things left off, the third episode occasionally breaks the tete-a-tete up with snatches of Royce awkwardly trying to forge a connection with the son he once tried to burn alive. There’s talk of going bungee jumping together even though the psychopath seems destined to spend the rest of his days behind bars and a telling moment where the mere mention of his arch nemesis Catherine’s name leaves him bristling with fury: proving what a cowardly specimen he is, Neil even apologizes for bringing her up. 

It’s the action in the café, though, that proves to be Happy Valley’s tour-de-force, albeit a supremely quiet one. The inspired choice of public setting means Catherine has to rake through the torment of her family history and unleash her anger without raising her voice. Clare has to provide her justifications in the same manner, although her withdrawn body language and quivering tones make it clear this is an easier task. 

While Finneran’s sympathetic turn almost leaves you feeling sorry about the character assassination Clare is subjected to (“You’re just weak and naïve”), most viewers will be firmly Team Catherine. Clare can’t offer a satisfying explanation as to why she betrayed her sister in the worst way imaginable. And even worse, she occasionally seems to fight for Royce’s corner, making pitiful excuses about his near-infanticide (“He was in a bad place”) and serving up idealistic theories about rehabilitation. “What if seeing someone who comes from a normal world makes this monster understand something about trying to be a better person?,” she posits much to Catherine’s disdain.  

After pointing out the hypocrisy of sending Ryan into a category A prison, a place Clare herself hasn’t got the stomach for, and issuing a warning for Neil, Catherine is done. “I’m not going to fall out with you over this,” states Clare, living up to her reputation for naivety. The fact Catherine physically buckles from the weight of their conversation on her exit, something which also triggers disturbing visions of her dead daughter, proves Clare hasn’t grasped the impact of her duplicity. 

Us viewers, however, are fully aware. This is a seismic shift in the relationship which has formed the heart of the show, and one that only has three more hour-long episodes to be repaired. It’s also executed to perfection by a writer and two British acting treasures at the top of their game. 

Jon O’Brien (@jonobrien81) is a freelance entertainment and sports writer from the North West of England. His work has appeared in the likes of Billboard, Vulture, Grammy Awards, New Scientist, Paste, i-D and The Guardian.