Jack the Ripper: Suspects

 "The Ripper played cricket?!!!"

Here I go again, with yet another Jack the Ripper. Fear not, though: tomorrow is Doctor Who, so it won'ty be five consecutive episodes in succession.

This continues to be entertaining stuff but, well, we get a series of lacklustre suspects all linked to czarist Russia, with even Rasputin getting a mention, before things start to get back on track. Still, this never fails to hold the attention and we do, at least, confirm the point that the relevant archival material is somewhat lacking.

Then we get to M.J. Druitt, a plausible-seeming suspect although, I'm sure, one of many... and we can never be sure whether or not he was a Freemason or not. And then off we go on a royal-themed tangent. That's it, although we do at least focus on the point that there must be a reason the Ripper stopped in November 1880 Did he die, move away, get himself committed to an asylum? Like the Freemasonry stuff, this is a point that needs to be explained.

The last two episodes, while good, haven't matched the gripping intensity and intelligence of their predecessors. Let's hope the same can't be said of the final episode.

Jack the Ripper: Panic

 "... and by that I mean the City of Oporto the port, not the City of Oporto, the ship."#

Ahem. Sorry, but this series is a Class A drug. I keep having to see the next one. I will continue with the other stuff I'm blogging, but it's getting hard to akternate as I'm getting so bloody addicted.

Things slow down a bit this episode as we explore the immediate reaction to both the murders and the failings of the police, both in Whitechapel and more widely. The format works really well here, with texts read out by actors portraying those writing them. This allows us to appreciate the pathos and the reality, These were people living not all that long ago, and not so very different from ourselves. The details of Mary Kelly's funeral are heartbreaking.

There's some dark comedy and some mockery of the casual racism of the time ("The Portuguese are notoriously darkened, villainous creatures"), and also an examination of the public fury against both the hapless Home Secretary in Salisbury's Government and the hopeless Sir Charles Warren, whose defence of this decision to wipe away the "Juwes" graffito- to prevent anti-Semitic violence- is almost convincing.

This episode essentially takes a break from the mystery and excitement in order to remind us of the human side of all this. Yes, it slows things down. But it's the right thing to do.

Jack the Ripper: Butchery

 "One does not need to be a Sherlock Holmes…”

This is fascinating stuff. We have the Freemasonry theories about the “Juwes” and clear hints of a desire from on high to cover up the murders, not least within the constabulary. We have Sir Charles Warren covering up the writing. We have a dodgy-seeming coroner and an absurd head of the CID who blames Jews rather than "Juwes".

We even have, from Watt, a fair amount of description of the actual Freemason mumbo jumbo, although not quite to the point of Jah-Bul-On. This is simply extraordinary: this is From Hell stuff, theories supposed to have first been aired by Stephen Knight in 1976. Yet here we are, a full three years earlier, and a nice bit of emphasis on the possible masonic nature of the rituals. I'm calling it: it's going to be Gull. I bet it is.

 Mind you, I'm well aware that all this Freemasonry stuff is far from universally accepted, and it's all rather murky, and that we're all supposed to suspect Charles Lechmere of being the Ripper these days. But, in 1973, this is cutting edge Ripperology.

This episode is extraordinary in the same way as its predecessors. And, er, yes, I know I'm not supposed to be blogging this today. I just had to see the next episode. Sorry! Defenders next time, definitely. Ahem.

Jack the Ripper: Double Event

 "Good at stopping riots, bad ar catching Rippers!"

The second episode is as gripping as the first, with the conceit of Barlow and Watt simply discussing things intelligently being utterly spellbinding television. Once again, this is a drama that does the job of a documentary, but the personalities of our two protagonists add so much more. We even get a dig, this being 1973, of Education Secretary Margaret Thatcher's recent milk snatching antics.

We follow on from the first two murders by looking up at the killing of "Long Liz" Stride, where the Ripper was interrupted, and the immediately following murder of Kate Eddoes, where the Ripper's grisly modus operandi was in full effect. There's much to interest us, from an analysis of descriptions to suggest the Ripper's appearance to speculation that he may not have been left handed after all.

Much is made of the distinction between the area covered by the Metropolitan Police, run by the authoritarian martinet Sir Charles Warren, he of Bloody Sunday the previous year, and the City of London Police, under Major Henry Smith, a seemingly more eloquent and thoughtful character.

Yet we end with something truly extraordinary as the pair discuss the famous graffito "the Juwes are the men who will not be blamed for nothing". The unusual spelling "Juwes" is said to refer to freemasonry, something familiar to those of us who have read Alan Moore's From Hell.... yet this idea is supposed to have begun with Stephen Knight's famous 1976 book. This is three years earlier, when the freemasonry suggestion was not supposed to have been posited. Wow.

I know: I'm supposed to be blogging The Defenders. Next blog post, honest. But I just couldn't wait.

Jack the Ripper: The First Two

 "A middle class Ripper...?"

Yes, I know, this is a fantastically obscure bit of telly. It's a drama, not a documentary, from 1973. It's a spin-off of a spin-off. Two popular detectives- Detective Superintendents Barlow and Watt from Softly Softly, a spin-off from Z-Cars (and no, I'm not going to blog those very old, mostly missing series!) spend the whole episode just investigating and discussing this very cold case, the documented statements from witnesses, police surgeons and the like being nicely dramatised. The effect is something that feels very much like a documentary, and a good one. But it isn't.

Stratford Johns and Frank Windsor are awfully good, excellent actors with loads of charisma. Even just the two of them intrelligently discussing the case is splendidly entertaining in itself, and that's before we get to the dramatised bits.

This is deeply engrossing. It doesn't neglect the social context of 1888- a time where women and boys are sent out of the room at the inquest as the Ripper's incisions to poor Annie Chapman's genitals are described, yet there are 80,000 prostitutes. There's a scene where Charles Booth describes the poverty of Whitechapel. And impressions begin to emerge. A left-handed killer, middle-aged. One with anatomical knowledge and the decidedly middle class of luxury to dispose of the blood from his clothes and so on. Yet a middle class man who would not look out of place in Whitechapel.

The format works brilliantly at acquainting us with details: instead of a dry narration, we get two senior detectives dicussing, debating, questioning the evidence intelligently. Why, for instance, was Annia Chapman killed at 5.25am, when day was well into the process of dawning, rather than earlier? Why such intricate ceremony, taking quite some time after each murder? I know not. But I'm already engrossed.