The star of the word-of-mouth hit Blue Lights, Siân Brooke, says she always expected the Northern Ireland police drama to be controversial.
When Siân Brooke was in Belfast for the screening of the first series of the BBC cop show Blue Lights, she had a very awkward taxi ride. Thedriver asked her what she, with her English accent, was doing in Northern Ireland and she told him about the show, which follows new recruits to the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI) during their first year on the job. He was adamant he wouldn’t be watching it.
That cab driver, like many in Northern Ireland, was not interested in a drama that humanised PSNI officers, one that made them the heroes, however flawed. The population is still deeply divided, and nowhere is this more stark than in attitudes towards the police, who are believed by many Republicans to be agents of the British crown, the force behind what they see as Ireland’s continued occupation. In staunchly Republican areas, anyone intending to become a PSNI officer would likely have to leave their home and family behind to do so — a reality Blue Lights conveys.
PSNI officers are so hated by some members of the public that most of them check under their cars for bombs every morning and lie to friends about what they do for a living. Last year, a data breach revealed the surnames and stations of thousands of officers, forcing some to quit their jobs or move house for their own protection.
Perhaps it is this unusual reality that has helped Blue Lights to stand out among the legions of police dramas that have graced our screens over the past few years. It is no easy feat to go up against the phenomenal success of Line of Duty, Happy Valley or Broadchurch, but Blue Lights feels fresh and different. Written by Northern Irish former journalists Declan Lawn and Adam Patterson, it captures the particular reality of life as a police officer in Northern Ireland. Series one became a surprise word-of-mouth sensation when it debuted last year on BBC1, series two is airing this week and a third and fourth series are already confirmed.
It’s done more than exceed ratings expectations; Blue Lights is changing attitudes in Northern Ireland. Brooke tells me when we meet in the Soho Hotel in London that her tense car journey had a happy ending: “The driver messaged me on Insta a week later, saying: ‘I watched the whole thing and loved it. The next time you’re in Belfast your rides are free.’” Given that Belfast’s black taxi firms are often assumed to have close links to the IRA, this was no lightly given compliment.
Brooke, 43, is still getting used to Northern Ireland’s political mores. The actress grew up in Staffordshire and plays Grace Ellis, a new, naive English recruit. While it is common for the PSNI to import chief constables from England, it is much less common to see them in the rank and file, and Grace has to work hard to understand the particular dangers of her new job. An idealistic former social worker and single mum, Grace has joined the PSNI to try to make a difference. In series one she came up against the tough realities of policing, struggled with the impact it had on her family life, and developed a will-they-won’t-they romance with her colleague Stevie, played by Martin McCann. And just when it felt like she was settling into the job, veteran officer Gerry, the life and soul of the station, was shot dead in the street. Grace was left shaken, fearing for the safety of her son.
Season two shows Grace more hardened to reality — and angrier. Her relationship with Stevie is teasingly uncertain. Brooke was delighted by the ambiguity. “It was delicious to play that, to explore two characters in their forties who’ve been around the block, who are both set in their ways, who are both a bit burnt by previous relationships — and then you see them coming together.” But she’s tight-lipped about what’s next for the pair: “Everyone asks, are they going to get together? If I had a penny for every time someone asked me about that or about Gerry’s death I’d be a rich woman.”
Blue Lights shows the daily horrors of policing without glamorising it and captures the black humour cops use as a way of coping with the job. Brooke remembers the research time she spent on the job with real PSNI officers. “When they were going through the details of what had happened, there were a lot of jokes, but then when they talked about a serious thing it was so matter-of-fact. It really hit home to me: Jesus Christ, this is their day-to-day, this is their normal.”
But she also recognised some of that black humour. Brooke’s father was a police officer in Staffordshire. She understood the risk involved in his job.”It’s a different type of policing in very different circumstances [to those in Northern Ireland], but there’s still an element of danger.” Blue Lights brought all of that back. “I remember reading the script and it reminded me of my dad and the camaraderie he had with his workmates. If they had solved a case and came back to the house for a cup of tea I could hear the banter and it was so distinctive.”
Recreating that banter — with a Belfast twist — helps with the intensity of the Blue Lights schedule. Brooke is in Northern Ireland for four months of shooting for each season. That’s tricky when you’re based in London with two children, aged 11 and 9. “Being away is the hardest part,” she says. “I love the job, it’s such a wonderful thing to work on with brilliant people. But the hardest part is that it just so happens to be a plane ride away.” Making it even more tricky is that her husband is in the same industry. Brooke is married to the director Bill Buckhurst and when we meet she is dressed to the nines for the press night of his latest show, Sister Act, at the Dominion. “Between us [our life] is a bit of a mish-mash. But it all works itself out and we haven’t totally messed up our kids so far.”
We talk about the taxi driver and the risks of making a show like Blue Lights. Was Brooke anxious about how it would be received in Northern Ireland? “You’re obviously nervous because you can’t control how it lands. But I feel comfortable because Adam [Patterson] and Declan [Lawn] are very intelligent writers and they understand the need to represent it accurately on all sides. And if you didn’t make it, that’s a form of censorship really.”
But when it comes to issues with contemporary policing, Brooke is reluctant to comment. Should police officers, like those in Northern Ireland, carry guns? “When you think about it in the context, I don’t know, but if you’re first response and can go into all manner of situations … It’s a hard one that’s opening a whole other can of worms. I’m not enough of an expert.” Or what about the litany of scandals faced by the Met Police? In 2021, Brooke played Cressida Dick in the ITV mini-series Stephen, about the murder of Stephen Lawrence, but again, she hedges her response. “It’s quite shocking the revelations that have come out. You can’t believe that people doing that job would be able to do the things that they’ve done. But I suppose with any organisation … I don’t know.”
We’re on firmer ground when it comes to the soundtrack of policing. Blue Lights’ police officers spend a lot of time in their cars, so their individual playlists are crucial — and often the subject of not-so-gentle ribbing. What would Brooke play in the car if she was a police officer? After a moment’s hesitation, she is puncturing the silence of the Soho Hotel’s library with her enthusiastic rendition of Sound of da Police by KRS-One.