NEW YORK (AP) ? "Old school, that's Tennison", mutters one of her colleagues to another. "On the force, what, 30-35 years? Battered and burnt-out."

Job-related pressure and fatigue, off-hours loneliness: Detective Superintendent Jane Tennison has fought them all, as well as a succession of lawbreakers, during her long career with the London Metropolitan Police.

She was never an easy character to watch, much less warm up to. But the burdens and hard-bitten heroism of Jane Tennison have entranced viewers in six "Prime Suspect" films since 1992.

Now comes what appears to be her farewell ? "Prime Suspect: The Final Act" ? in which Jane slogs it out in London's crime-fighting universe one last wrenching round.

"The Final Act" finds her pushing 60 and the end. Retirement is breathing down her neck, and a void of uncertainty looming once she is put (in her words) "out to grass".

It should come as no spoiler to learn that Jane prevails. Nor should it be any surprise that "The Final Act" does justice to this magnificent series. It's a worthy conclusion (if that's what it must be) to a sweeping film masterwork.

Helen Mirren has never been better as Tennison, a signature role for this great actress. Mobilising Jane's imperious tilt of the head, the stiff upper lip, and the weary, seen-far-too-much eyes, Mirren throws herself into this performance with no less commitment than Jane devotes to her own job. It's wonderful to behold.

With Jane so obsessed with endings, it's a cruel irony that she must solve the case of a 14-year-old schoolgirl's murder ? a young life tragically cut short.

Meanwhile, her investigation brings her in contact with the victim's best friend, Penny, who not only lends assistance but also penetrates Jane's life-hardened shell.

A would-be artist her parents don't understand, Penny furnishes Jane with a glimpse of youthful promise she herself once felt. Penny makes Jane smile. But the spell is dashed in one scene when Jane, giving Penny a lift during a rainstorm, swerves at the last second to avoid a head-on crash. She had been absorbed in a long-ago story about joining the police force. The fact that she is drunk is suddenly all too obvious.

Penny screams at her and demands to be let out of the car. Jane is crestfallen and ashamed.

Penny isn't the only way by which Jane's past is thrown back at her. Her father dies, and, at a bar after the funeral, her estranged sister tells her, "I'm sorry it's turned out like this. I hope you got what you wanted from life. I hope it's all been worth it."

Worth it? Hard to say, and Jane doesn't. But "Prime Suspect: The Final Act" is well worth any viewer's time. It airs on PBS' "Masterpiece Theater" on Sunday from 10 to midnight Bermuda time, then concludes on November 19 (check local listings). It's a grand finale.

Photographer-writer Lauren Greenfield was granted access to an eating disorder facility for a magazine piece and a book. But she wanted to do more, and returned to make a documentary, "Thin", which airs on HBO at 10 p.m. on Tuesday. Living at Florida's Renfrew Center for six months, Greenfield and her crew observed the meetings, therapy sessions and meals that make up daily life for those undergoing treatment. Through interviews, still photographs and behind-the-scenes footage, "Thin" tells the stories of four women between the ages of 15 and 30 whose pasts may be different but who became united by a common illness. "Thin" exposes these women's struggles with eating and weight as well as the deeper issues afflicting women by the hundreds of thousands who are, literally, dying to be thin.

On its May 5, 2005, front page, the local newspaper in Spokane, Washington, outed the popular, socially conservative Republican mayor, Jim West, as a man living two lives: In public, he had once sponsored legislation that forbade gays from teaching in public schools, while, in private, the paper alleged, he was trawling for young men online. But when the news broke, eyebrows were also raised by the paper's investigative methods: For months, a middle-aged "forensic computer specialist" had posed as an 18-year-old boy online, engaging the mayor in a relationship that became more and more intimate. "We wanted to know, 'Do we have a mayor trolling on the Internet for underage boys?"' explains Spokesman-Review reporter Bill Morlin in the "Frontline" documentary, "A Hidden Life", which explores the relationship in one particular town between politics, sexuality, fear and judgment. It airs on PBS on Tuesday at 10 p.m. (check local listings).