The new eight-episode thriller series Down Cemetery Road, streaming on Apple TV+, opens with what appears at first as a banal suburban incident—a dinner gone wrong, a gas explosion in a leafy Oxford lane, a little girl injured and then gone. From there the story ventures into a sprawling conspiracy involving shadowy government forces, missing-persons cover-ups, and two women drawn into the void: Sarah Trafford (played by Ruth Wilson), the hostess whose life is upended by curiosity, and Zoë Boehm (played by Emma Thompson), a private investigator whose sardonic exterior hides an appetite for trouble.
At its best, the show delivers the kind of dry-humour, layered character work and uneasy tension that made viewers fans of Herron-verse adaptations such as Slow Horses. Thompson anchors the series with a performance that oscillates between deadpan wit and genuine danger, her Boehm skirting cynicism and vulnerability in equal measure. Wilson meanwhile brings an obsession-tinged sincerity to Sarah’s unraveling; the two leads form a quietly combustible odd couple, one grounded from the start, the other pulled in. The shifting rhythm of suburbia cracking open, combined with the creeping dread of large-scale deception, gives the series real early momentum.
But that momentum comes at a cost. As the twists accumulate and the stakes escalate, the plot starts to feel over-stuffed. The initial premise—a missing child, a muffled explosion—expands to include military intrigue, underground fixers, intelligence-agency goons and a rogues’ gallery of characters whose motivations blur. Some critics point out that the show’s tonal balance wobbles: bursts of comedy and domestic drama rub awkwardly against full-on action-thriller set-pieces. The pacing also slows: episodes that began tightly wound begin to drag as the series works to manoeuvre every piece into place. Indeed, one reviewer noted the tension was intact but the “implausible and exhausting” narrative arcs undermined the build-up.
Visually and atmospherically, the series excels. The quiet Oxford suburb, the late-night streets, the hurried betrayals, the battered bus rides and van chases—all evoke a British thriller that knows how to make small places feel large and dangerous. One standout sequence sees Boehm eluding pursuit aboard a train in a scene that hums with ingenuity and urgency. The show also benefits from sharp supporting actors who bring colour and menace: there’s a sense of real jeopardy when a minor character disappears, not just because the narrative demands it, but because the world feels inhabited.
Ultimately, whether Down Cemetery Road succeeds depends on what you seek in a series. If you’re after taut mystery, rich character study and a lead performance that isn’t afraid to admit weariness or smirk at absurdity, this delivers. But if you prefer precise plotting and mystery that never stretches beyond its plausible boundaries, you may find the later episodes frustrating. The show asks you to lean in—to embrace mood as much as method—and rewards you with moments of high tension, real insight and memorable character beats. In the crowded streaming field of thrillers, it won’t be flawless, but it’s often magnetic.
In short: Down Cemetery Road is worth your time for Thompson’s Boehm, for Wilson’s Sarah, and for those flickers of suburban danger that remind us how thin the line is between quiet and catastrophe.
