“I think the DNA of the show is not about a submarine. Submarine was the setting of the first series; the DNA of the show from the beginning is about what happens when police priorities for investigations clash with national interest and military priorities.”

That was Vigil‘s executive producer Jake Lushington, speaking at a Q&A for the brand new second season which sees Suranne Jones’s Amy out of the confines of the Vigil submarine, and instead looking to the skies, investigating deaths tied to the world of drone warfare.

Of course, now that the second season has been produced, he’s right – this does feel of a piece with the first outing, and it’s down to that central through-line of police interrogating the military, and the confrontations that ensue.

However, that doesn’t mean that if you asked a hundred people to describe what the first season of Vigil was about in one word, they wouldn’t all say the exact same one – submarine.

In a world where we are inundated with police/detective shows, a whole host of them produced by the company behind Vigil, World Productions, the first season stood out precisely because of the claustrophobia afforded by its setting, and this season falters without it.

Season 2 picks up sometime after the first, with Jones’s Amy now in a steady, loving relationship with Kirsten, acting as a full-time mum to Poppy while Kirsten is pregnant with their second child.

The two detectives spring back into action when a military drone display goes wrong, and they are used to kill multiple members of the air force at the Dundair Air Base. They must discover whether the drones – or Remotely Piloted Aircraft Systems (RPAS), as they are known – malfunctioned, or whether this was murder.

As in the first season, the duo quickly come up against resistance to their questioning among the ranks of the air force, while Amy soon discovers she must travel to Wudyan, a Middle Eastern country which has been involved in a partnership with the British military around the development of the RPAS systems.

A second season onboard another submarine would never have worked or made logical sense, so it’s a smart decision to look to the air force rather than the navy.

BBC

However, the issue remains that without the heightened tension and confined quarters seen in that season, this new outing feels fundamentally more generic.

Military dramas aren’t anything particularly new, and while drone warfare has been less explored, across the first three episodes which were made available for review, that really only serves as the catalyst – the rest of the season so far plays out as fairly standard interrogations in rooms.

That’s not to say there aren’t a number of elements to enjoy here. For instance, the deepening of Amy and Kirsten’s relationship is well handled, and the two leads are both on top form, proving highly engaging and selling every scene.

Their chemistry seems as though it was one of the primary factors in the show returning, and you can see why – on the personal level, when it is allowed to take a step back from the high-drama military goings-on, the show really sings.

The new characters are also well drawn and brought to life by a host of talented actors, even if none of them so far quite match up to the bickering, morally dubious duo of Paterson Joseph and Adam James’s in season 1.

Dougray Scott takes on a role closest to this pair and is sufficiently slimy, while Romola Garai continues to brilliantly play against type after her equally different role in this year’s The Following Events Are Based on a Pack Of Lies.

Amir El-Masry is also compelling and assured as MI5 agent Ramsey, while the stand-out is perhaps Chris Jenks as Callum, a character whose story allows for the greatest deal of complexity and empathy.

There are twists and turns along the way, as you’d expect, the bursts of action are well-staged and the central mystery keeps you guessing, as layers of both personal and political intrigue are added throughout.

Yet, with the story stretching across two continents and involving an ever-growing list of suspects and accessories to the act, it can become difficult to follow, particularly in comparison with season 1’s streamlined yet compelling narrative.

World Productions/Jamie Simpson

The role of shifting geopolitics seems far more central in this season than the last, with creator Tom Edge using Wudyan’s relationship with the UK and its own internal politics to examine Britain’s place in the world, for good or ill.

Some of this is effective, but it still all feels quite surface level, asking questions we’ve been considering for years. They do feel relevant, it just also feels as though there’s nothing new here, and there’s no big moral quandary we weren’t already aware of.

The truth is not that Vigil season 2 necessarily does all that much wrong – it probably works as well as it could have done given the first season’s contained plot, and the natural disparity between Scotland and Morocco, which doubles as Wudyan, helps to keep things visually arresting (when not in indiscriminate rooms).

It’s just that, in a stacked media landscape which is even more populated in the run-up to Christmas, and with other innovative thrillers doing boundary-pushing, genre-bending work – such as The Tourist and Wolf – this new run of Vigil feels bland by comparison.