Having really enjoyed Becoming Human, we come to the parent series proper – Being Human.

Series 2 was two episodes too long – Series 1 was perfectly packaged in six episodes, but Series 2 was eight. And I always had the impression that this decision wasn’t an artistic one but one decided by the series commissioners, which resulted in too much padding, B-stories and a lack of tight focus. Compared to the brilliance of Series 1, Series 2 was occasionally superb – more often a little lacking.

So, Series 3? An almost total return to form, although the ending left something to be desired – on my part at least. Nina was promoted to a main character, and thus didn’t have to disappear for half the series and enabled the relationship with George to mature. The pregnancy storyline could be a lodestone for Series 4, but for this series the actual business of physically dealing with the offspring of two werewolves was delayed.

Big publicity was stoked up was the introduction of Robson Green as McNair – a werewolf with an all-consuming hatred of vampires, having been turned in a cage fight for the sport of vampires. His presence illuminated every scene he was in – and was an example of perfect casting for the role. Less impressive was Michael Socha, playing his adopted son – a plank of wood would have been arguably better at times. McNair deserved a better endgame – it was a shame that the gruff, but honourable warrior went down in such a futile and inglorious manner. There were some delightful self-contained stories, such as that of Adam – who then disappeared off as the starting point for Becoming Human. That story, and the story of the nightclubbing zombie, brought back the comic touch to the show which had largely been missing from Series 2 – which just seemed to take itself too seriously.

Of course, the overriding arc of Series 3 was the Wolf-Shaped Bullet and Michell’s spiral into self-destruction. The opening episode was incredibly strong, with the character of Lia just exuding menace behind her smile, taunting and then leading Michell down the path of paranoia and, as it happened, a self-fulfilling prophecy.

The re-introduction of Herrick was superbly done, but – like most of the endgame – was ultimately a disappointment. Reborn with total memory loss after the hasty resurrection at the end of Series 2, his zenith came at the end of episode 7 and the near-fatal stabbing of Nina – after Michell had foolishly restored his memories trying to find the secret of escaping death at the claws of a werewolf. The final episode however then seemed a waste – finally consigned to the grand coffin in the sky via the stake at the hands of Michell, just as their relationship was getting back to the dangerous menace of Series 1.

And this, in the end, was the flaw in Series 3. The death of Mitchell.

As we found out on transmission night, the intention was for John Michell to survive the series – there would have been a different ending. However, with Aidan Turner departing for the world of The Hobbit, the final episode was re-written to bring the character to an end – which again was the choice of Turner. Given the choice of being shipped overseas or turned to dust, he chose the latter – which was an actor’s choice to be sure, but it wasn’t one of the program makers.

This left the high point of the season as the end of episode 7, not episode 8. Too many things felt “off” – suddenly the tight and careful plotting went astray. Lia, whom we assumed was the series antagonist, went from scheming minx, to misguided twenty-something. So full of rage and hatred at being killed at the hands of Mitchell, this instantly dissipated with some words from Annie – and not particularly clever words at that. We also never found out what gave Lia the ability to walk the world of purgatory as a power – in the end she was just another victim.

We had the new character of Windham crudely crowbarred into the series as a link to Series 4 – which felt the same as Herrick suddenly being thrown back onto screen via resurrection at the end of Series 2. Obviously introduced as a replacement for Herrick , this seemed rushed – and his introduction scene of waxing lyrical at police headquarters just felt forced and badly written. Herrick should have been retained – he was around long before Mitchell, and could have continued long-after. The dynamic of Herrick versus the household without Mitchell’s protection could have been a superb storyline moving forwards – and a natural progression.

Despite these concerns, the series payoff wasn’t bad – it just could have easily been better, and probably would have been if Toby Whitehouse knew that Turner was leaving at the end of the year.

However, the final act of John Mitchell asking for his life to be ended was an unsettling note for the series.

Since it’s inception, the question was could a supernatural live a relatively normal life and again be human. The answer in the case of John Mitchell, possibly the series lead, was a definitive no. No heroic exit, Mitchell twisted throughout the series through various shades of immorality, trying to save his own existence – and was on course to do so again at any price until brought short by the disgust of his best friend. Knowing himself incapable of the strength to resist killing more innocents, to resist bringing his friends into further peril, he asks for the cowards way out – death. No further fight against his nature, taking the harder path.

He surrendered to the futility of his cause, and therefore ultimately failed.

But as a positive, this final scene between Russell Tovey and Aiden Turner were superbly acted, and the image of Mitchell – turning to dust, with a smile on his lips at his escape from life and appreciation for the merciful act of his friend – perhaps at great personal cost – was a great one.

The imperfect final episode demotes the overall rating for the series to a note below perfect which the rest of the series demanded. 9/10.