How Saint-Pierre and Miquelon Shapes a Unique Police Procedural

Introduction

The French territory of Saint-Pierre and Miquelon, a tiny archipelago off Newfoundland’s coast, isn’t your typical setting for a TV show. With a population just under 6,000 and a history steeped in cod fishing and prohibition-era smuggling, it’s an odd but compelling choice for a police procedural like CBC’s Saint-Pierre, which premiered January 6, 2025. The show, starring Allan Hawco as Inspector Donny “Fitz” Fitzpatrick and Joséphine Jobert as Deputy Chief Geneviève “Arch” Archambault, uses the islands’ isolation and Franco-Canadian culture to craft crime stories that feel both exotic and grounded. Why does this setting matter? It’s not just a pretty backdrop; the islands’ geography and history shape the narrative, making Saint-Pierre stand out in a crowded genre. Think of it like Death in Paradise meeting Shetland—a quirky mix of sunlit coasts and dark secrets. This article dives into how the show leverages its unique location, offering insights for writers crafting their own distinctive settings.

The Islands’ Isolation as a Narrative Driver

Saint-Pierre and Miquelon’s remote location—45 km off Newfoundland, reachable only by a 90-minute ferry or a nine-hour flight from Paris—makes it a natural prison for Fitz, who’s exiled there after exposing a politician’s corruption. The islands’ isolation isn’t just logistical; it’s a storytelling goldmine. In Saint-Pierre, the plot leans into this, portraying the archipelago as a haven for criminals evading the law, from smugglers to international crime bosses like Sean Gallagher, played by James Purefoy. The show’s creators, Allan Hawco, Robina Lord-Stafford, and Perry Chafe, amplify the real-world low crime rate into a fictional hotbed of murders and conspiracies, with a new body per episode. This contrast between serene vistas and grim crimes creates tension—think quaint streets hiding assassins. Writers take note: a remote setting can trap characters, forcing conflict. Mistake to avoid? Don’t let the location overshadow the story. If every episode is just “pretty island, ugly crime,” it gets old fast. Consequences of overusing the setting? The audience tunes out, craving character depth over scenery porn.

Blending French and Canadian Cultures

The islands’ cultural mashup—French citizens with a Newfoundland twang, European architecture beside Atlantic ruggedness—gives Saint-Pierre a unique flavor. The show plays this up through Fitz’s fish-out-of-water struggles, like his shaky French clashing with Arch’s Parisian polish. Language barriers drive humor and conflict, with hardcoded French subtitles for English viewers adding authenticity. For example, in the pilot, Fitz stumbles through a French-heavy interrogation, misunderstanding key clues, which delays solving a cult leader’s murder. This cultural blend isn’t just cosmetic; it shapes character dynamics. Arch, a Parisian transplant, hides her own reasons for being there, mirroring the islands’ secretive vibe. Writers, here’s the lesson: use cultural quirks to deepen characters, not just as set dressing. A common mistake is stereotyping—like making every French character a snob. If you lean too hard on clichés, the story feels flat, and viewers smell inauthenticity a mile away.

Historical Context Fuels Crime Stories

Saint-Pierre and Miquelon’s history as a smuggling hub during Prohibition and a refuge for shady figures (like Al Capone, who reportedly stayed at Hotel Robert) is catnip for crime drama. The show weaves this into its DNA, with plots involving modern-day bootleggers and international criminals exploiting the islands’ position between North America and Europe. In episode two, Fitz and Arch chase a Montreal-based bagman tied to a smuggling ring, echoing the islands’ rum-running past. The Heritage Museum, a real 200-year-old site, pops up as a setting where secrets unravel. Writers can learn from this: a location’s history can anchor your stakes. Don’t just slap a cool past on your setting—tie it to the plot. A mistake here is overloading historical references without payoff, confusing viewers. If the past doesn’t drive the present action, it’s just trivia, and the story loses momentum.

Visual Storytelling Through Rugged Landscapes

Cinematographer Ian Vatcher captures Saint-Pierre’s colorful harbors, foggy cliffs, and Île aux Marins’ abandoned church, Notre-Dame-des-Marins, to set a moody tone. The show’s exterior shots, filmed on location, contrast cozy villages with the wild Atlantic, amplifying the sense of hidden danger. For instance, a chase scene on a police boat in episode three uses the choppy waters to mirror Fitz’s unraveling personal life. But Saint-Pierre stumbles when it prioritizes visuals over substance, as noted by The Globe and Mail, calling it a “generic procedural” that underuses its setting. Writers, balance is key: visuals should enhance, not dominate, the narrative. A common error is leaning on pretty shots to mask weak plots—viewers notice. If the setting’s beauty overshadows character arcs, you risk a shallow story that looks great but feels empty.

Character Dynamics Shaped by Place

The islands’ small-town vibe, where everyone knows everyone, forces Fitz and Arch to navigate tight-knit locals with secrets. Characters like Veda Gonsalves, a bar owner and historian, or Renuf Aucoin, a cop who bakes, reflect the islands’ quirky community. In “Kill Lil,” Fitz’s outsider status makes locals clam up, complicating a witness protection case. The setting shapes their partnership—Arch’s local knowledge clashes with Fitz’s brash instincts, but their differences click, much like The Mallorca Files. Writers, use a setting to challenge characters’ flaws or strengths. A mistake is making the place too perfect, ignoring its flaws (like limited infrastructure). If you don’t show how the setting frustrates or aids characters, you miss chances for organic conflict, and the story feels staged.

Challenges of Filming in a Remote Location

Shooting in Saint-Pierre was no picnic. With no local film infrastructure, the crew faced issues like scarce equipment rentals and different electrical outlets. Hawco noted the logistical nightmare of housing a film crew in a town of 6,000. Yet, this hardship mirrors the show’s theme of isolation, adding authenticity. For example, the lack of resources forces creative choices, like using real locations (Le Joinville Disco, Hotel Robert) for gritty realism. Writers, consider how a setting’s limitations can shape your story’s tone. A common mistake is ignoring practical constraints—characters acting like they’re in a metropolis when they’re not. If you don’t account for the setting’s reality, the story feels disconnected, and savvy viewers will roll their eyes.

Tips for Writers Crafting Unique Settings

Want to make your setting pop like Saint-Pierre? First, research your location’s history and culture—details like the islands’ cod fishing past or Bastille Day celebrations add depth. Second, let the setting challenge characters, like Fitz’s language struggles. Third, avoid over-romanticizing; show the place’s flaws, like Saint-Pierre’s lack of infrastructure. Finally, tie the setting to the plot—smuggling rings work here because of the islands’ geography. A big mistake is using a unique location as mere eye candy without weaving it into the narrative. If the setting doesn’t drive conflict or stakes, it’s just a postcard, and your story will lack weight. Saint-Pierre mostly nails this, but its occasional reliance on clichés shows the risk of leaning too hard on location alone.

FAQs

Why choose Saint-Pierre and Miquelon for a police procedural?
Its isolation and French-Canadian blend make it a fresh backdrop. The islands’ smuggling history and small population (under 6,000) create a perfect stage for hidden crimes and outsider-insider tension, as seen with Fitz and Arch’s dynamic. The real-world low crime rate is fictionalized for drama, but the setting’s remoteness naturally fuels suspense.

How does the setting influence Saint-Pierre’s tone?
The islands’ rugged beauty and cultural quirks set a moody, European-inspired tone, akin to Shetland. The contrast between quaint streets and dark crimes, like a decapitation in episode three, creates a gritty yet charming vibe. But the show risks feeling generic if it leans too much on visuals over story.

What mistakes do writers make with unique settings?
They often treat locations as backdrops without tying them to the plot. In Saint-Pierre, the smuggling history drives stories, but some episodes overuse the “pretty island, ugly crime” trope. Settings should shape character conflict and stakes, not just look cool, or the story feels hollow.

How does Saint-Pierre balance real and fictional elements?
The show uses real locations like Hotel Robert and Notre-Dame-des-Marins but amps up the crime rate for drama. This artistic liberty works when tied to the islands’ smuggling past but can feel forced if overdone, like the cult leader fight in the pilot. Balance is key to avoid breaking immersion.

Can a small location sustain a crime series?
Yes, if you lean into its quirks. Saint-Pierre’s small size (6,000 residents) and isolation make every crime personal, as locals hide secrets. Murdoch Mysteries thrives in small settings by focusing on character ties. If the setting doesn’t drive conflict, though, the series can feel repetitive.

Conclusion

Saint-Pierre proves a setting like Saint-Pierre and Miquelon can elevate a police procedural when used right. Its isolation traps characters, its cultural blend sparks conflict, and its history fuels gritty plots. Writers, take note: a unique location isn’t just a backdrop—it’s a character that shapes the story. Avoid making it a gimmick by tying it to stakes and character arcs. Saint-Pierre occasionally stumbles with generic tropes, but its use of the islands’ rugged charm and secretive vibe sets it apart. Want to craft your own standout setting? Study Saint-Pierre’s mix of real-world detail and fictional flair. Share your thoughts on the show or your favorite TV settings in the comments