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Last month, Netflix acquired the hit BBC miniseries Happy Valley just as the crime drama was being renewed for a second season. Aside from the quality, what makes Happy Valley so good is Sarah Lancashire‘s portrayal of Sergeant Catherine Cawood: the English female protagonist American audiences desperately need.

Within the first three minutes of the first episode, Catherine lays it all out for us while attempting to arrest a junkie who’s trying to set himself on fire. After he calls her a “stupid bitch” while threatening to set himself ablaze, Catherine gives the most honest, poignant character introduction, probably ever:

“I’m Catherine by the way. I’m 47, divorced, I live with my sister who’s a recovering heroin addict. I have two grown up children; one dead and one who doesn’t speak to me, and a grandson. So… It’s complicated. Let’s talk about you.”

Happy Valley’s six episodes follow the abduction of college student, Ann Gallagher. The crime is carried out by a pair of bumbling thugs, and the plan goes awry when one of them, Tommy Lee Royce, rapes Ann. When the case begins, Catherine does not realize her personal connection; Tommy Lee Royce is the father of Catherine’s grandson, who has lived with her after her daughter committed suicide.

Throughout the entirety of the miniseries, Catherine battles against corrupt politics that are seemingly a result of her job, leaving her no choice but to take advantage of her (all male) superiors’ ignorance to further her investigations. It’s clear that otherwise nothing would be accomplished. Like Detective Sarah Linden of The Killing, Catherine’s need for justice sometimes trumps the legalities of her position, but it’s clear why she has to consistently try and outsmart the system: because she’s a woman and she’s often shooed away by her male colleagues.

After arresting a councilman for cocaine possession and refusing to drop the charges, two male lieutenants ranked above her tamper with the evidence so the charge is deemed moot. When she’s beat nearly to death by Tommy Lee Royce while rescuing Ann, she’s forced to take time off work, see a counselor, and return only when she’s emotionally stable. Upon returning to work, her emotions boil over when the incompetence at her district reaches an all-time high. Her male lieutenant scolds her like a little girl, to which Catherine responds, “Oh, piss off.”

Lancashire is a force of womanhood as Catherine Cawood, something American audiences — men included — desperately need to see more frequently on screen. Here are three reasons why:

She’s slowly breaking down stereotypes

I often reference The Wire‘s Kima Greggs when speaking about strong women in crime dramas. Greggs is an essential figure for female characters in the male-dominated genre, where women, especially women of color, are almost always ranked below their fellow male officers. If they’re not on the force, they’re portrayed in various ways including but not limited to:

A prostitute
A victim of rape
A prostitute who was raped
A woman who was raped and then killed herself
A promiscuous housewife who ruins her family’s life with her promiscuity
A mother who failed at mothering and accidentally killed one of her children
A policewoman who is consistently referred to as “a bitch”
A sexy policewoman who is never referred to as a bitch because she is sexy

While The Wire, The Killing, and Happy Valley each feature more than one of these stereotypical characters, slowly but surely, the strength of Kima Greggs, Sara Linden, and Catherine Cawood are helping make crime series more fully-realized than ever before. Instead of feeding into the normalization of brutality against women on screen, creator Sally Wainwright has Catherine Cawood nearly mock this ridiculous notion by acknowledging how time and again women blame themselves when treated like they’re less-than-human before being thrown away.

She’s looks and acts like a real woman.

Female detectives on series like CSI and NCIS, who are perfectly put together while taking down criminals in questionable neighborhoods, are watchable, but not in the slightest bit believable. Like Kima Greggs of The Wire and Sarah Linden of The Killing, Catherine Cawood feels like a real person; seeing a show put focus on a real woman and her personality and abilities — not her hairstyle — is a breath of fresh air. The fact that Catherine is middle-aged also reaffirms her legitimacy. Her wisdom is believable because we feel this woman has truly done and seen it all, unlike a hot, 31-year-old detective who’s some kind of crime-solving prodigy and has her life together. Catherine could easily be anyone’s friend, sister, wife, mother, or grandmother.

She’s flawed, she does what she wants, and it’s awesome.

For the most part, Catherine does whatever she wants within reason, including sleeping with her ex-husband, Richard, who’s now re-married. Catherine knows it’s wrong, but continues their affair because they never stopped loving each other. Most importantly, she doesn’t have to explain herself. After spending the night together, Richard sent her flowers the next day. Catherine’s sister, Clare, noted that “she’s playing with fire” but all she got was a shrug in return. She has needs, sees him when she feels like it, and that’s that. No explanation, no moral struggle, simple as that. Like almost every male lead ever, Catherine sleeps with who she wants because she wants to.

Kudos to Netflix for continuously acquiring original series that feature strong, realistic female leads with shows like Orange Is the New Black, The Killing, and now Happy Valley. Being that 50 million of us now have access to Netflix, there should be a mandatory stream fest of tough female cops. While there are plenty of crime dramas out there, only a select few are truly going against the grain when it comes to representing women.

[Watch Happy Valley on Netflix]

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Photos: Everett Collection/BBC/Netflix