Martin Clunes, the gruff Cornish doc whose dyspeptic demeanor defined a decade of Doc Martin mirth, has morphed into a metropolitan manhunter whose dogged determination drags viewers into the dank depths of Britain’s darkest cases. In the riveting three-part true-crime odyssey Manhunt: The Hunt for the Night Stalker, premiering on Disney+ September 19, 2025 (after its 2019 ITV bow that hooked 9 million), Clunes embodies real-life DCI Colin Sutton—the unyielding London Met lead who cracked the 17-year enigma of the “Night Stalker,” serial rapist Delroy Grant, preying on elderly victims in a reign of terror from 1992 to 2009.
“It’s gritty, heartbreaking, compelling,” raved The Guardian upon relaunch, with Clunes’ “fleet-footed finesse” earning fresh acclaim as “his best role yet,” per AARP. No Portwenn pastels here—this is a bone-chilling blitz through London’s labyrinth, where Sutton’s “relentless” pursuit unearths a monster who struck 100+ times, leaving 71-year-old victims like Annie Garbutt (1992) and Dorothy Yardley (2009) in shattered sanctuaries. Viewers? “Thrilling, devastating, unmissable,” they gasp on socials, binging all three in one “gut-wrenching” gulp—proving Clunes’ chameleon chops eclipse even Men Behaving Badly‘s banter.
The saga’s savage: Episode one’s opener thrusts Sutton (Clunes, 63 and grizzled) into the fray as a sidelined sergeant in 2009, summoned to review Operation Minstead—the Met’s “largest-ever” rape probe, a £10 million maze of 1,500+ leads gone cold. “I saw patterns they missed—timing, targeting, the taunt,” Sutton recounts in voiceover, his everyman earnestness (no Sherlock swagger) a masterstroke that humanizes the hunt. Grant, the “Night Stalker,” a charismatic cabbie by day, morphed into a midnight marauder, breaking into bungalows to batter and violate OAPs—women like 93-year-old Harriet (fictionalized from real horrors), whose “Why me?” wail wallops. Clunes’ Sutton? A steely sentinel, clashing with bureaucracy (“Desk-jockeys dream up disasters”) while poring over CCTV crumbs and semen samples, his home life a quiet anchor with wife Fiona (Katie Lyons, EastEnders alum). Co-stars shine: Ardal O’Hanlon’s DS Trevor Marriott as the skeptical sidekick, Steven Cree’s DS Stuart Hinton as the haunted hound, and Celine Abrahams’ DS Ramani Mela as the forensic firebrand—all orbiting Clunes’ calm command.
What elevates this from procedural pablum? Ed Whitmore’s script (Prime Suspect scribe) strips sensation for stark reality: No gore-glam, just the grind—Sutton’s “eureka” linking Grant’s Ford Galaxy to a 1998 semen splash, the 2010 dawn raid where the 53-year-old suspect (played with chilling charisma by Clint Dyer) sneers “You’ll need more than that.” Sutton’s real memoir Manhunt (2017) fuels the fidelity, but the “unflinching” unflinch: Grant’s victims’ voices—real interviews woven in—wrench with raw resilience (“I locked my doors forever”). Directors Marc Evans and Chris Sweeney wield moody Metropolis montages, rain-slicked raids under sodium glow, a score that throbs like a ticking clock. Decider dubs it “absorbing without burnout,” Observer “truly gripping,” while The Sunday Times lauds the “deft” dodge of cliché. Clunes? “Powerful pinnacle,” per Hello!, his Sutton a “quiet storm” that contrasts Doc’s curmudgeon, earning BAFTA nods anew.
Fans? Frenzied: #ManhuntClunes clocks 2.3 million posts, “Binged in one night—devastated!” dominating, with “Better than Line of Duty‘s lies” litanies. The 2019 ITV peak (9 million premiere) now surges on Disney+, outpacing Broadchurch‘s bones. Skeptics? “Too procedural,” but the “human hunt” hooks: Sutton’s “Why didn’t we catch him sooner?” a gut-punch to policing’s pitfalls. This isn’t escapism; it’s excavation—Grant’s 2011 life sentence (four counts) a hard-won hymn to hustle. Clunes’ reinvention? Relentless, riveting. September 19? Not a drop—a detonation. Binge it; the chills? Chronic, the chills? Cathartic. Sutton’s saga? Unmissable, unforgettable—the hunt that haunts.
