Before she left the local night club alone, Boorsma had been fighting with her boyfriend, which becomes super-awkward for Jeroen Bovenkamp, because it makes him everyone’s second favorite suspect. Prime suspect #1 is the teen Afghan refugee Fenna Schepenaer claims to have seen making an obscene gesture at her rival for Bovenkamp’s affection. After a mob beats the poor kid, he retreats to Turkey, but the Mayor Kees Vormer has Detectives Syl Frankenaar and Joanna van der Veen extradite him back—only to immediately clear him based on forensic evidence.
Nevertheless, Boorsma’s father Rinus and her thuggish older brother Lukas remain convinced one of the Afghan migrants killed her. At one time, the old man was not such a bad guy, but his grief blinds him to the sinister nature of the nativist extremists his son forges alliances with. Consequently, the sleepy provincial village becomes a powder-keg as the investigation drags on. Meanwhile, Boorsma’s mother falls in with a QAnon-like group of conspiracy theorists, who see ritual satanic killers under every bed.
The Hunt is a bit like Broadchurch, in that it explores the ways the trauma of a murder can profoundly wound a community. However, there is little actual mystery. Even if Bosch and van Erp had not tipped their hands, the killer’s suspiciously twitchy behavior would have made him conspicuously obvious. Thematically (if not necessarily artistically), The Hunt compares more to Crime and Punishment in the way it examines the corrosive power of guilt on the killer as well as his family.
Despite the frequent jumps along the 13-year timeline, van Erp always clearly delineates each temporal shift. This is a starkly realized drama with distinctively severe aesthetic, but it is a ruthlessly downbeat viewing experience. The is no escapism and little assurance offered by the police procedural elements.
