When it comes to writing TV series, brothers Harry and Jack Williams have become masters of dichotomies and parallels. Whether it’s something like past vs present, hope vs despair, or punishment vs redemption, all of their shows challenge their viewers to consider something bigger than merely the story they’re watching unfold. Although this is a strength in many ways, it’s also a weakness, in that it often hampers the overarching narrative by bogging it down with style and theme. Baptiste, their follow-up to The Missing, suffers from this in the same way that its predecessor did. That being said, Baptiste is still a pretty entertaining program, and with only two six-episode seasons, it’s a breeze to get through.

Tchéky Karyo returns in this series as titular protagonist Julien Baptiste, having survived his bout with brain cancer in season two of The Missing. Weakened a bit physically and a lot mentally, he’s trying to start over as a grandfather in Amsterdam, retired and family-focused. Of course, this doesn’t last long. An old flame, who also happens to be a Dutch police captain, draws him into a case involving a missing sex worker and Romanian gangsters. All the while, he’s joined by the missing sex worker’s uncle, Edward Stratton (Tom Hollander), whose suspicious behavior only complicates matters.

Then in season two, Baptiste takes on a new case only several months after the end of season one. This time around, the British ambassador to Hungary, Emma Chambers (Fiona Shaw), wakes up to discover that her two teenage sons are missing, presumably kidnapped. Baptiste heads to Budapest, and when it becomes apparent that white nationalists are involved, the stakes are raised higher than ever before.

First and foremost, the main thing Baptiste does a lot better than The Missing is creating a sense of urgency. While The Missing was a solid series, it did tend to meander and become encumbered by its drama. In contrast, Baptiste doesn’t mire itself in that way, instead preferring to get right to it and allowing the drama to come later. This is undoubtedly an upgrade, but it does come with its drawbacks. Why would a Dutch police captain enlist a retired Frenchman, who’s recovering from brain surgery, to handle such a serious missing persons case? I’m still not entirely sure, but hey, it drops Baptiste into a very violent criminal underworld, so who cares? Well, I guess I care a little bit. A faster pace is nice, but not at the expense of logic.

The second thing Baptiste does really well is pairing its protagonist with a thoroughly dimensional sidekick. In season one, that sidekick is Edward Stratton, a mysterious bloke that goes through one hell of a rollercoaster ride, metaphorically speaking. Veteran character actor Tom Hollander does an impressive job infusing Stratton with levels of both morality and sinfulness, making every scene he’s in unmissable. As good as Hollander is, Fiona Shaw is even better as Emma Chambers in season two. Shaw’s performance is full of sadness and wit, and when juxtaposed with Karyo’s stoic solemnity, it’s highly engaging television. Her acting was so powerful, and Hollander’s so nuanced, that they both constantly overshadowed the leading man. Don’t get me wrong, Karyo is still first-rate, but his character can be a bore sometimes.

The third and last thing I want to emphasize that Baptiste does so well is in regard to what I said in my opening, i.e. how it handles dichotomy and theme. Season one’s primary theme, at least to me, was second chances and how we use them. Baptiste is literally given a second chance at life (and family) after surviving brain cancer, and there’s another character who’s trans and getting a fresh start in a new body, so to speak. These are only two of many examples of this theme, and most if not all of them are compelling to watch develop. This theme also touches on a lot of interesting dichotomies, such as what it means to be a man vs a woman, a policeman vs a criminal, or even a policeman vs a parent.

Season two’s main theme is a bit harder to pin down, but I’d say it’s primarily about how people react to change, often of the traumatic variety. This theme is effectively covered at the individual level with Baptiste and Emma, who’ve both experienced family drama that’s sent them spiraling. But it’s also presented on a larger scale, specifically in regard to how some people, in this case native Hungarians, react to foreigners entering their country. And this subject matter allows for some thought-provoking dichotomies and parallels as well, like locals vs outsiders, acceptance vs rejection, and guilt vs forgiveness. Both seasons of Baptiste really drove me to ponder some heavy ideas, so bravo to the writers, actors, and filmmakers. They nailed that.

Where Baptiste occasionally falters is in its storytelling, which is a noteworthy flaw for a mystery show. Season one’s story is loaded with twists and turns, but not all of them work, and all too often they feel forced and predictable, and subsequently tiresome. More egregiously, some of the twists involve clues that are uncovered in the most preposterous of ways, especially one involving a minor character who has an affinity for placing surveillance cameras everywhere the plot needs him to. How lucky. Also, there are too many side characters in season one; the worst being an obnoxious Interpol agent whose emotional arc lands completely flat. It’s not all bad, though. The best element of season one is how ruthlessly it treats its characters. No one ever feels safe, meaning tensions are high at all times. I really liked that aspect of it.

Season two’s storytelling is certainly better than one’s, but not by a whole lot. I appreciated that Baptiste’s involvement in the case actually makes sense this time, and as I already pointed out, his partnership with Emma is very well-done. This season also finds ways to effectively break up the story with bursts of violence; it even includes a proper action set-piece that’s both riveting and disturbing. And I really dug the Hungarian nationalist subplot, which felt authentic in its realism and appropriate in its cynicism. Sadly, the writing stumbles in the second half of the season when things become predictable and silly, similar to season one. The Williams brothers even went back to their dual timeline format this time around, but they don’t take advantage of it like they did with The Missing. And the series finale, while solid overall, annoyed me in how it ignored some characters that were quite important earlier in the proceedings.*

Yet, when I reflect on Baptiste, I feel more satisfied than not. I find that the Williams brothers always demonstrate skill in how they approach theme, dichotomy, and character development, and this series benefits from that prowess. It cannot be ignored how clunky Baptiste’s storytelling is, which is why I wouldn’t recommend this series to individuals who obsess over mysteries. Instead, this show, like The Missing, is best for those who enjoy emotional moments between well-rounded characters, and complex themes that encourage discussion and rumination. Sure, that might make it a hard sell for some, but if you’re like me or many of the characters in this series, you’ll be happy Baptiste found you.

If I had to score it, I’d give Baptiste a 7/10. (Season One = 6/10, Season Two = 7/10)

Notes:

* To be fair to Harry and Jack Williams, I’m aware that they were forced to rewrite season two several times due to COVID and other issues. With that in mind, I’m impressed that they were able to put together something that’s this coherent and entertaining. Sure, I may be disappointed with a few creative decisions, but I’m very grateful that they got it done. And that conversation on the rooftop toward the very end? Wow, it’s one of my favorite exchanges of dialogue in quite a while.