The Sweeney: Thin Ice

 "I merely strangled the hound with my bare hands..."

This is the best episode yet. Oh, the plot is clever and entertaining, and we're getting to know Regan, Carter and the rest of the Flying Squad, but more than anything else this is just bloody good writing.

This episode is basically ten dimensional chess between three parties. Bishop (Alfred Marks is a splendid presence) is a criminal  mastermind on the run to France, and there's a rivalry between Regan and one Superintendent Pringle (a perfectly cast Peter Jeffrey) on how to deal with him, and how. It's fun to see how things play out, with Regan ultimately outsmaring both his adversaries.

Yet it's more than that. It's dialogue that is witty but also very real. People talk at cross purposes, there's wordplay, there's perfectly played cynicism. These characters feel real, despite us not knowing them much, purely because of the deftness of the words and the performances. Little things, like the unfriendliness of the local constabularty or the dark hints of domestic abuse at the end.

Yes, this is certainly the quintessential showabout maverick '70s cops who cut corners to get results. But damn, it's clever.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 7- The Telling Bone

 "Though braying bolster! Thou black beehive!"

This episode is... well, more of the same. It's another farce, as Catweazle's spell goes wrong and he ends up not in the 11th century but hanging precariously on to a church spire, where he meets the vicar (Mr Barraclough from Porridge) and a series of comical misunderstandings ensue, mostly based around the telephone.

Also, Sam has a vintage car, which he gots for £10 and which Mr Bennet disparages as an old banger. I suppose, in 1970, it would be the equivalent of an old '80s banger. But all we get is by-the-book farce and comedy based on Sam's mother being a bit of a battleaxe. Bayldon is wonderful, as ever, and so is Brian Wilde. But this episode is a bit of a pointless misfire. Kids' telly should aim higher than this.