As it draws to an agonisingly poor close, Robin embroils the world’s worst police force in a game of Where’s Wally on Bondi beach. How can this show have gone so awry?
And now the end is near, and we’ve faced the final (flammable) curtain. What seemed at first to be a murder mystery exploring the underbelly of Sydney’s legal sex industry turned into something far more uneven and bizarre. I’m not even sure what we ended up with – a meditation on motherhood? An indictment of illegal surrogacy? An exploration of class in Australia? All or perhaps none of the above?
In the aftermath of Brett’s shooting at Silk 41, Mary calls Robin and screams down the phone. Unfortunately, Robin is having a drunken roll in the duvet with Mary’s father Pyke and can’t quite process the danger right now. She is about to experience the mother of all hangovers, though, as the pair realise the danger their daughter is in, and eventually stagger to Bondi beach, where Brett has killed a taxi driver and taken Mary hostage … or so we think. Robin heads off to the morgue with the body, and has a cuddle with friendly pathologist Ray, who creepily notices that she’s been having sex and lets her sleep in his office. I know that when I’m drunk, all I need is a nap in a mortuary and I’m good to go.