Holding, by Graham Norton

A body is found on a farm outside a small Irish town and generations’ old secrets are unearthed with it. The premise is strong, the characters mildly interesting, but the writing is pedestrian and banal, with acres of exposition weighing it down and sloppy research detracting from the historical elements. Each plot twist is telegraphed well ahead so there are few surprises as it is all totally predictable. An unlikely love triangle replicating one from the past is possibly meant to be darkly funny, but just induces eye rolls. Quirkiness just isn’t enough. In short, stick to the comedy chat show hosting Graham.