Midsomer magic lost without clever killers
LET’S TALK about Midsomer Murders (ITV, Sunday). One of the nation’s favourite detective shows, it is increasingly becoming a parody of itself and sillier than ever. With the welcome conclusion of the 22nd series, fans will be congregating soon in Midsomer Worthy to lead a protest walk – just a gentle ramble, mind – to the show’s production office to ask what has happened to decent plotting, wry humour and detectives actually investigating a crime? Call me old-fashioned...
In the last four films, we have had a wolf hunter, killer bees, heart attack victims in martial arts outfits, and an outlandish fishing story that would be too wacky for Tales Of The Unexpected. Has the showrunner been sampling too much Midsomer Moonshine?
In last week’s story, a flirty estate agent killed her business partner, then a few others, just because she quite enjoyed it. Was there a motive? Who cares! Along the way, she had a cringy, flirty moment with Barnaby who is increasingly conferring with his dog Paddy in the hope of hearing some common sense. Is he now working from home? His most common, and arresting, question to each suspect is: “Is there anyone you know who would want to kill so and so?”
Conveniently, the plots seemed to unravel themselves, not through clues, but from Barnaby having a tiny brainstorm. It’s no fault of the cast. It was aboveaverage this season, with last week’s episode featuring John Thomson and Keith Allen.
The Barnabys – John and Sarah – are now more part of village life in an attempt to ramp up the gentle comedy, but it’s completely lame. It’s not The Good Life. If only. Anyway, who could match Joyce’s ability to join a new society in every episode?
The former Midsomer was also darker, more convincing and the humour came through the acting, not with someone behaving like a moron with a fancy sword, or having a panto-style killer in a wolf ’s outfit. Don’t cancel it, ITV. We love it. Just make it faintly believable.
Too Close (ITV, Monday – Wednesday) was frankly too believable and rather harrowing. Tapping into the fashion for dark crime stories, ITV brought us “the yummy mummy monster”, who drove two children, including one of her own, off a bridge.
Why? That’s what Emily Watson’s psychiatrist is trying to discover so “mummy” can be tried. But in an unlikely scenario, Watson’s being cross-examined herself, and feels drawn to her quarry. Indeed, too close. She made Watson feel so anxious about her marriage, that the therapist found a novel use for a kitchen island when husband Si arrived home.
Yes, he did say, “Is it my birthday?”
No such frippery in Line Of Duty
WOUND up by awards ceremonies? Well, here’s a special one for you. The British Academy
Film Awards (BBC One, Sunday) had it all – suck-up presenters, Zoom buffering, a joke about Michael Jackson and a performance, apparently by One Direction’s Liam Payne who seemed to have copied himself on to the screen for extra effect while sounding a lot like Coldplay. Oh, and it lasted two hours and five minutes. But let’s not be churlish. Congratulations to every winner, and their carefully-read speeches – from their publicist’s front room. Why couldn’t we have a year off from this gush fest?
We deserved it.
(BBC
One, Sunday) which is now a whodunnit wrapped in a deep mystery. While we still really have no clue about the identity of “H” – apart from (cough) Ted Hastings – we’re now asked to speculate on the dark-haired man who is related to dodgy detective Jo Davidson.
In another brilliant episode, we watched the very bold OCG hold up a police convoy with ease, and despite outnumbering the cops, come off worse! Pity they couldn’t take any prisoners. Or just convenient. And Ted’s being retired too. Let’s hope he doesn’t go the way of Nicola Walker in Unforgotten. So, no car journeys, Ted.
Much more grounded was Alan Titchmarsh: Spring Into
DODGY DETECTIVE:
Summer (ITV, Monday), a restful introduction into the season of plenty. There was increasing evidence, however, that Alan is getting too close to his subject when he observed of rhubarb, “It’s such a friendly looking plant...” Until it finds itself in a crumble.
Now the most leaden format of the year – by some distance – All That Glitters (BBC Two, Tuesday) was a new talent competition, along Bake Off lines, to find the country’s best jewellery maker. Sterling effort to forge an entertaining show about thumping pieces of metal with a hammer, but not even the wafting of a blow torch over a bangle was going to excite me. You would need to solder me to the sofa to make me watch this trinkettapping frenzy again.
Finally, The Real Prince Philip (Channel 4, Sunday) was a surprisingly insightful documentary about the Duke of Edinburgh.
Most revealing was how the then-navy cadet looked after the Royal party when they visited Dartmouth naval college. After being pictured with Princess Elizabeth on the croquet lawn, the Duke’s uncle Lord Mountbatten encouraged his nephew to pursue the royal yacht Britannia as it left the harbour.
So Prince Philip, according to the show, “waved madly” as he rowed a skiff behind the yacht – quite a feat – while Princess Elizabeth returned the farewell. As the show said, it was their first combined Royal wave. which would then be seen for decades to come.