From time to time I’ve had fun thrashing Midsomer Murders, because it appears to be filmed on a whites-only agenda—my wife and I have a game we play called “Spot the Colored Person”; in approximately 80 episodes we’ve only had reason to play it four times. And
I realize I sound like a J. Peterman catalog for pseudo-Prousts. The truth is, I’ll never own this robe. Mostly I don’t have the balls. But here it is again, nine seconds in, and then again, with length, at 03:17: Oh man, I know it’s lame.
If you’ve been following this column and generally agreeing, and you haven’t already watched The Inspector Lynley Mysteries, take my word that Sharon Small as Sgt. Havers is superlative, leagues above and below Lynley (Nathaniel Parker, who’s better seen in Bleak House). For now, however, I want
Then Morse died and Lewis got a promotion and his own show, Lewis, to keep solving murder cases in Oxford, the university town he dislikes. You’d think they’d let Lewis to retire to Newcastle, but no. At the start, his wife’s killed in a car accident. And
Long before The Wire came along, Prime Suspect exposed the mental ant-farms of both criminals and police. The stories were great (top-notch casting), and also lasted very long, three hours or so, which is a feast for those of us in the Netflix age, who binge on crime stories in
Benedict Cumberbatch—the man sounds like his own classification of mania. “But I can’t go outside, darling, Sherlock’s on, my cumberbatch is acting up again.” Seventh greatest detective in contemporary British TV, and after only three episodes of Sherlock? Why not? Cumberbatch is the best Sherlock Holmes since
Trustworthy: The genius detective must have faith in your silence, your belief in his brains, your wakefulness during stakeouts, and your way with a handgun, should he want one used but not desire to fire one himself. Loyal: Clearly you should prefer him to all other detectives. And the police.
Detective Chief Inspector James Harold Japp, portrayed by Philip Jackson in the long-running Poirot series, is my favorite. He goes into every new adventure believing he’ll finally one-up the Belgian penguin, but always loses. Still he maintains his humor and indulges Poirot’s whims. I can’t remember the
The long-running Morse series was good. Sometimes great. Thaw (1942-2002) carried Morse’s hunched shoulders with a lot of style, and the episodes, based on Colin Dexter’s plots, were tight and surprising. I'll recommend all seasons—even the "Morse Goes Abroad" episodes. The show was
Many other things we do extremely well in this golden age of the small screen. Novelists with epaulets are signing up to bang out series. David Foster Wallace thought the best writing currently done in America was for The Wire. Watching approximately 12 hours a week of great TV, I
