The timeliness of this production goes without saying. The Catholic church still grapples with a transparent and appropriate response to the mistakes made by the "truck drivers" who abused the privilege of pastoral care for so many Australian children. Unlike period dramas that nostalgically remember crime, business or sport in our recent history, The Devil's Playground demands our conscientious viewing.

Tom Allen, the 13-year-old boy at the centre of the original film, has grown up to be a devout Catholic father, psychiatrist, widow and ghost of his courageous troubled childhood. Drawn back into the murky mire of Catholic politics, Dr Allen (Simon Burke) finds himself counselling clergy, after the mysterious drowning of a 13-year-old boy in the parish.

The opening double episode of The Devil's Playground (Showcase, Tuesday, 8.30pm) shares qualities that will attract fans of Broadchurch. Mystery, grief, suspicion in a tight community. There are less stylistic bells and whistles. This is conventional solid filmmaking. But the decision to respect old-school storytelling over newfangled HBO tricks, pays off in the long term. This is a complex layered piece of work that builds in suspense and gravity.

This series is important for a broader audience, but every Catholic has skin in this game. We've known the champions, the cowards, the politicians and, hopefully, not the perpetrators in these situations. The Devil's Playground presents them all, with the perplexing dramatic challenge, as we watch, to identify each man correctly.

Burke's performance is an excellent quiet study, but there are more surprising and heart-breaking roles for popular favourites: Don Hany, Andrew McFarlane and Toni Collette, that will stand out and stay with viewers forever.

Directors Rachel Ward and Tony Krawitz have struck gold with newcomers Uli Latukefu, Jess Donoghue, Jarin Towney and Matt Levett,  but star turns from Jack Thompson, Leon Ford, Anna Lise Phillips carry the show.

There is a long and strong tradition of Irish Catholic storytelling in Australian literature and film. It's no mystery that the nuns, brothers and priests that educated/bullied/encouraged these kids to love language would grow up to deliver Brides of Christ and Devil's Playground, in gratitude and payback. If the tiny details aren't right – the cruets on the altar, the preparation for confirmation, the constantly changing liturgy, Catholics will smell a rat and reject the work as bogus. For the rest of the audience, getting these details right won't affect the storytelling but it does underpin the authenticity. In the original film (Fox Classics, Sunday, 8.30pm), there's a scene where young Tom Allen is waiting outside the principal's office, thinking about jerking off and reading The Annals. Was this slim publication the only magazine on tables in Catholic waiting rooms last century? Details.

There is something so thoroughly honest at the heart of The Devil's Playground, it is impossible to watch the last episode and not feel a little grief, shame and contempt. The symmetry between the characters played by young Burke in 1976 and young Towney today is the stuff of wonderful, special, rare drama. It seems that perhaps you can go home again, and it helps if you take your balls with you.

Don't miss: Reality Check (ABC, Wednesday, 9pm) The charming Tom Ballard deconstructs reality TV, the junk food of our TV diet with other metaphorically burping, farting practitioners.