As 'Grantchester' Season 9 Continues, the Alphy Kotteram Era Is Still Finding Its Feet

Change is always hard. That's more than evident as Grantchester settles into the third vicar of its run, proving that while the show is more than capable of surviving a significant character change, like anything else, there's an adjustment period involved. Admittedly, things are slightly less awkward this week — Mrs. C's bigotry is somewhat softened by her aggressive minding of the vicarage, Leonard gets the chance to do something other than overcompensate for her rudeness, and Geordie and Alphy's interactions slowly begin to feel more natural. (Or at least less like Geordie thinks he's entitled to Alby's companionship, personally or professionally.)

Unfortunately, Alphy still makes for a relatively clunky investigative partner, and other than last week's "Hey, yeah, I guess mystery solving is sorta like explaining God's mysterious ways to people" conversation, Grantchester makes almost no effort to show us why he's even interested in helping Geordie out with his cases beyond the fact that the entire premise of the show revolves around him (or someone in his role) doing exactly that. 

Thankfully, we get more insight into his personality and past, from his working-class background to his reasons for becoming a vicar. He's flirty and fun and strangely light on the proselytization, even when confronted with people who require some moral clarity in their lives. After years of Will's tortured little rich boy persona, there's something refreshingly genuine and uncomplicated about Alphy. However, the constant microaggressions and bigotry he faces from all corners are both surprisingly prevalent and deeply uncomfortable to watch. 

Mysteries are never the most crucial part of Grantchester, but this week's case is particularly dull, involving an out-of-touch family of aristocrats and the gardener who turns up dead in their basement. The murder's setting—a swanky party Alphy attends to solicit donations for improvements to the parish church — offers some entertaining diversions, most notably the weirdo sister who meows like a cat and crafts clothes allegedly inspired by tribes in Kenya. But nothing about the story itself is particularly compelling. The revelation that the central crime revolved around a lesbian revenge plot rather than a simple case of a cowardly man having an affair was at least an unexpected twist. 

Though I'm not sure that it told us a lot, we couldn't have already guessed about Alphy's personality or the place he'll ultimately make for himself in this small-town life. Perhaps knowing that this episode will not be held afloat by its central mystery, Grantchester throws in multiple ongoing story arcs — most of which involve familiar supporting characters — to help tide viewers over until its new lead can fully find his feet. 

Despite the fact it's undergoing its third major cast shift in eight years, this self-aware narrative juggling is precisely the sort of thing that proves this show is a true ensemble that exists beyond any single character. We may not care all that much about Alphy for his own sake just yet, but we are still deeply invested in the lives of those around him, and that's enough to get us all through this together. 

The interfamily drama at the Keating house, for example, continues apace. Cathy, who hasn't been best pleased with her daughter ever since she decided to drop out of school and get a job, is constantly fighting with Esme. Her controlling behavior, particularly when combined with Esme's bratty attitude, is making life fairly hellish for everyone, and Geordie's policy of determined avoidance certainly isn't helping. For viewers who either are or have daughters, this sort of conflict probably feels all too familiar and most of us have (or, sorry to tell you, will) likely experience something similar ourselves. 

Esme insists she's old enough to do as she likes and move out on her own, while Cathy claims she's being a brat. Both say ugly things to one another that neither really means but can't seem to take back. It's painful but not surprising. Nor are the Keating women the only folks experiencing big feelings in Grantchester. 

Inspired by the young street preacher who seems to have taken up residence at Leonard's halfway house these days, Daniel decides to face some lingering personal demons. He's having a lot of guilt over the collapse of his relationship with his family because of his sexuality, and for whatever reason (i.e., basically, the plot demands it), he only seems to feel comfortable talking about these emotions and what they mean for his life with Sam. Naturally, Leonard insists that Daniel should find support and help with this issue. He looks somewhat taken aback both by how pushy Sam is about getting Daniel to talk to him and how comfortable his boyfriend is with opening up to this random man about something he's seemingly never mentioned before, but even Leonard's only human. 

(Look, I've said many times Leonard Finch is at least half the reason I tolerate this show, and if we are about to watch this random break his heart and steal his person, someone at Masterpiece is getting a very stern letter. Step off, Sam.)

Finally, although the hour itself doesn't pay that much attention to the fact that Alphy has received a second anonymous note sporting a cryptic Bible verse delivered to his door, it seems safe enough to assume that we, as viewers, probably should. Last week, the mysterious letter referenced Amos 5:7, the Old Testament verse about turning judgment to wormwood and laying righteousness in the Earth. This week's note jumps to the New Testament and John 19:30, which includes the exact moment Jesus dies on the Cross. What could the two bits of Scripture possibly have to do with one another or Alphy? 

It's too early to know — or to judge — what this era of Grantchester will be like. We haven't gotten to spend that much time with Alphy yet. We don't know him very well, nor have we seen him be a particularly active vicar. The only time he's even gotten overtly religious was that utterly bizarre speech during last week's case about how you can't lie to God, which felt more like something meant to manipulate a murder suspect than any genuine truth. 

I may be the only person who misses Will's weekly sermons illustrating the themes of each episode and how they tie into the specifics of various cases and character journies, but I can't help it. Grantchester's greatest strength has always been its subtle ways in which it advocates for the many unconventional ways in which it's possible to love God and serve one another, whether or not one considers themselves especially religious. I'm not sure refusing an adulterer's money and taking Geordie for a ride in the Triumph are quite there yet. But we'll see how it goes.