Like most Americans, I had never heard of Welsh serial killer John Cooper, which only changed after I watched the Luke Evans-led miniseries, The Pembrokeshire Murders (2021). So, it should come as no surprise that I was similarly unfamiliar with the “Saturday Night Strangler” and the three murders he committed in Wales in the early 1970s. These crimes are the ones covered in the BBC’s latest true-crime drama, Steeltown Murders, which drew me in with the same curiosity I had for that other series back in 2021. I should note, however, that I found The Pembrokeshire Murders to be a well-acted but mostly mundane program. Because of that, and the fact that both series share the same director (Marc Evans), I started episode one of Steeltown Murders with my expectations in check, hoping that it would take a few more risks. In the end, while it is somewhat better, this story of Wales’ first documented serial killer still barely moves the needle.

Steeltown Murders utilizes a dual-timeline structure, following DCI Paul Bethell (Philip Glenister) as a middle-aged cop investigating the “Saturday Night Strangler” killings in the early 2000s, while also flashing back to young Bethell (Scott Arthur) doing the same 30 years prior. This format really helps this miniseries get more bang for its buck, as it provides unique insights sometimes overlooked in cold case mysteries. For instance, I found it quite interesting to observe how 1970s policing so heavily relied on human elements – i.e. eye witnesses, alibis, police competence and integrity, etc. – over the scientific ones of the early 2000s. The hopelessness of that old style of police-work is effectively conveyed here, while simultaneously, the hopefulness that accompanied the rise of forensic science 30 years later also comes through. Steeltown Murders is at its best when it probes this dichotomy.

This miniseries also excels when it offers up chewy morsels of supposition. In each of the four episodes, writer Ed Whitmore draws from his research and presents some thought-provoking “what if” moments. What if Bethell’s boss had listened to his theories back in the day? What if Bethell’s biases lead to tunnel vision? What if those 1970s detectives had set aside their misogyny for but a moment? Like in any good history book, or history show in this case, it’s postulations like these that are the most intriguing to examine. After all, if somebody simply wants a rundown of what actually happened, there’s Wikipedia. Sadly, Steeltown Murders only ever serves morsels of intrigue; never the full meal. It’s disappointing because Whitmore clearly knows where the drama lies with these murders, yet, out of an apparent determination to stay respectful, he pumps the brakes so as not to over-embellish. The end result is a miniseries that lacks edge and urgency. This is a common problem with true-crime dramatization, especially in the UK.*

Another thing dragging Steeltown Murders down is its insistence on showing how the murders affect those closest to the victims, both in the 1970s and the 2000s. I appreciate the value of a scene or two with the murdered girls’ families, but any more and it just gets tedious. Every single person watching knows that the loved ones are likely grieving and angry, so the repeated check-ins end up contributing very little that doesn’t go without saying. This is especially true when it comes to Sita Anwar (Priyanga Burford), who was a close friend of two of the victims and suffers from survivor’s guilt. Sure, Sita has a few poignant moments early on, but the more she’s around, the more her presence feels like a frustrating distraction from the mystery, or worse, like filler to pad the runtime. I hope I’m wrong about the latter, but there’s no denying that Steeltown Murders is too drawn-out. It would’ve worked much better as a two-hour movie, achieved by trimming the abundance of deference it shows to those hit hardest by these horrific crimes.

Before I wrap, I should acknowledge how well-acted this miniseries is. Glenister is right in his wheelhouse playing a bullheaded detective, and Steffan Rhodri, who plays his thoughtful partner Bach, often outclasses him. The entire supporting class is similarly first-rate, with Aneurin Barnard standing out in a brief but memorable role. Despite these performances, Steeltown Murders remains an overly long and overly safe procedural. There are some bits of interest scattered throughout the story, like the duality of 1970s and 2000s policing, but the filmmakers’ goal of keeping everything factual and respectful ultimately impedes it. That said, it does seem that Welsh-set true-crime series are incrementally improving, so maybe keep an eye on this niche.

If I had to score it, I’d give Steeltown Murders a 6/10.

Notes:

* The inverse is true in the USA, where true-crime movies and shows tend to play too fast and loose with the facts, which has to be insulting to the families of the victims (and perpetrators). It makes me wonder: if true crime has to be exploitative in order to be entertaining, is it a genre worth exploring? I think there’s a balance to be found, but it’s quite tricky indeed.