Hammer House of Horror: Rude Awakening

 "You shouldn't have killed your wife, Mr Shenley..."

For the second time in succession we have a superb episode. Yes, it helps to have a charismatic lead in Denholm Elliott, cast against type as an estate agent in the least posh role I've ever seen him in, but this script is superb, layering dream within dream and horror upon horror, leading to out increasingly deluded protagonist killing his wife in the belief that it's only a dream.

The structure of dreams within dreams, denying us a stable grip on what is and is not reality, works superbly, and allows the episode to play effectively with form, structure and tropes. Yet beneath it all is something fearfully desperate. This is an episode set within the psyche of one unhappy man.

There are such subtle touches here, beyond the obvious yet well done obvious scares as the creepy voice on the telephone, the collapsing building or the body in the dumb waiter. Yet cleverest of all is the revelation that Norman's secretary, with whom he's been carrying on an affair in a series of implausibly sexy outfits, is in fact just a young and unattainable women whom this unhappy man secretly likes. This is tragedy as horror, puncturing the delusions of a man whose life is without colour. And it's quietly excellent telly.

Inspector Morse: The Dead of Jericho

 "You're one of these people who have breakfast, aren't you?"

I've read all the Colin Dexter novels at least once although, I'm sure, it's been at least twenty years. I've never seen any of the TV series before though, at least not a whole episodes. I'll not be blogging these quickly as the episodes are bloody long, but the first one is fascinating. This is in some ways the Morse of the books- bloody minded, knows his beer and his culture, but in other ways he isn't: this isn't the course misogynist that Colin Dexter wrote but more of a gentle soul who courts Anne Stavely sensitively.

John Thaw is superb, but credit is also due to Anthony Minghella for perhaps the hardest adaptation- one that has to introduce the series and the characters. He does so with subtlety and writerly restraint, with shortand simple scenes that don't show off, and by showing, not telling; the hallmark of a certain sort of good screenwriting. A shockingly young Gemma Jones is also excellent as, of course, is the great Patrick Troughton in what must be one of his last roles.

I thought I remembered little of the story as it unfolded but the Sophocles red herring came to me as the camera focused yet again on a copy of Oedipus the King just after we learned that Ned had blinded himself. But it was all quite clever, and a cosily enjoyable thing to watch without being too cosy. It helps that morse himself is a compellingly nuanced character.

I'll keep occasionally blogging these. Look out for another episode sometime...