Seventeen years after the curtain fell on The Inspector Lynley Mysteries, the BBC has thrown open the doors to a new era with its reboot, simply titled Lynley. Premiering in early January 2026, the series has landed with a thud—or perhaps a polite cough—on screens across the UK, immediately sparking fierce debate among fans, critics, and casual viewers alike. The revival, based once more on the novels by American author Elizabeth George, attempts to walk the tightrope between nostalgia and modernization, but has it kept its balance?
At the heart of the show is the familiar duo: Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley, now played by Leo Suter, and Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers, portrayed by Sofia Barclay. Suter’s Lynley is every bit the aristocrat—educated at Balliol, Oxford, with a pedigree as sharp as his suits and a vintage Jensen Interceptor to match. Barclay’s Havers is recast as a "bolshy millennial," a working-class Norfolk native with a penchant for mouthing off to her superiors and a refusal to be cowed by Lynley’s upper-crust background. Their dynamic, once a study in class tension and mutual respect, is now more of a flat line, say some reviewers, as Havers meets Lynley as an equal from the get-go.
Much of the press coverage has focused on this shift. According to The Telegraph, the original series thrived on the friction between Lynley’s aristocratic reserve and Havers’ prickly vulnerability. Sharon Small’s Havers, in particular, was lauded for her layered portrayal of a woman balancing professional ambition with personal hardship. In contrast, Barclay’s version is described as "self-possessed, in no way intimidated by Lynley’s aristocratic pedigree and behaves at all times as his social equal, which immediately kills off any interesting dynamic between them." The chemistry that once anchored the series seems, to some, to have been lost in translation.
But it’s not just the characters that have changed. The reboot has been accused by some viewers of making "woke" changes to the original books, abandoning key themes and character traits that defined Elizabeth George’s vision. As reported by the BBC, fans took to social media on January 5, 2026, to express frustration, accusing the new series of sacrificing authenticity for the sake of modern sensibilities. "Fans accused the reboot of abandoning key themes and character traits from the original Elizabeth George books," the BBC noted, capturing the mood of disappointment among longtime followers.
Critics haven’t been shy about voicing their reservations either. The Independent described the acting as "rushed and wooden" and the scripts by Steve Thompson as "clunky," with characters barking out clichés like “We need a result, and quickly!” The review points out that the show’s ambition is modest, hewing closer to the cozy crime stylings of Inspector Morse or A Touch of Frost rather than the gritty, serialized drama of Broadchurch or True Detective. Each 90-minute episode is a self-contained mystery, with Lynley and Havers racing through rural East Anglia to crack the case, often over a pint in the local pub or while bombing through the broads in Lynley’s classic car.
For those unfamiliar with the earlier series or the books, Lynley might come across as a perfectly serviceable detective drama. As The Telegraph puts it, "If you come to it with no expectations... this will do fine." The first case, involving the murder of a wealthy man on his private island, is replete with the usual suspects: a dying wife, a watchful housekeeper, a resentful son, and a few comely hangers-on. Every clue is neatly paid out, every Chekhovian gun—be it sex tapes or pottery shards—fires on cue, and every loose end is tied up by the closing credits. The series, made for Britbox in association with the BBC, is now available in its entirety on BBC iPlayer.
Yet for those who remember the original, or who cherish the complexities of George’s novels, there’s a sense that something vital has been lost. The Guardian describes the new show as "undemanding television that ties up all plot threads and maintains steady pacing," but laments the absence of the emotional depth and class commentary that once set the series apart. Lynley’s strained family relations and Havers’ secret sorrow involving her parents are touched upon, but the show seems reluctant to dig deeper, preferring instead to keep things moving briskly along.
Daniel Mays, a respected actor in his own right, takes on the role of Lynley’s boss, a man with a long-held grudge against the inspector. His presence, however, is something of a mystery in itself; as The Telegraph wryly observes, "why Mays agreed to take such a small role in this series is a mystery of its own." The supporting cast, while competent, rarely rises above the material, hampered by scripts that favor exposition over character development.
Some viewers have speculated that the reboot exists mainly as an export property for the BBC, a glossy, quintessentially British product designed to appeal to international audiences. After all, as The Independent points out, the original books were written by Elizabeth George, a novelist from Ohio. Lynley and Havers, in this incarnation, sometimes feel more like "cartoon Brits in Constable country, an ersatz vision of our nation which appeals more to Anglophiles than the English." That might explain the show’s lack of risk-taking—its determination to be as inoffensive and broadly appealing as possible.
Still, there are moments when the show’s pedigree shines through. Suter, with his "socially confident side," as described by The Telegraph, brings a certain gravitas to the role of Lynley, even if he’s perhaps "too handsome" for the world-weary detective. Barclay’s Havers, while lacking some of the vulnerability of her predecessor, injects the role with energy and modern sensibility. The mysteries themselves, if not groundbreaking, are competently constructed and should satisfy fans of traditional whodunits.
For those willing to let go of the past, Lynley offers a familiar comfort: a world where justice is served, villains are caught, and every story ends with a tidy resolution. For others, it’s a reminder that some things—like the delicate balance between tradition and innovation—are harder to reboot than they seem.
As the debate continues, the new Lynley stands as both a tribute to and a departure from its origins, leaving viewers to decide for themselves whether this contemporary update is a worthy successor or just another case gone cold.
