"You're nicked, and I'm not authorised or insured to drive this car!"
I know: all this current telly, especially, means The Sweeney has taken a bit of a back seat lately. But fear not: I'll carry on until the end of the first series,and return after a break to blog the rest.
Anyway, this is another damn good episode, about a heist to nick some gold bullion and haul it to Beirut, and involving some particularly clever jiggery pokery with security cameras. Yet it's also about the personalities involved, the complezities of keeping such a blag secret, and how Regan and George manage to nab them in the end. As ever, it's not a whodunit- we're privy to everything that happens- but it's fun following how the Flying Squad get their men, sometimes by detective work but often by other means.
Plus, of course, there's the usual fun of seeing the UK of fifty years ago. Playing Pong in a pub. Time and motion studies. Everybody always smoking. Half pennies.But it's becoming particularly noticeable how good and how natural John Thaw is as a gruff, laddish, vaguely cynical yet nevertheless likeable Regan.
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