Inspector Morse: Driven to Distraction

 "I think our friend Chief Inspector Morse could prove to be something of a major pain in the rectum area."

This one is.. well, different. it's the first episode that doesn't feel as though it fits the format. Morse essentially bodges the whole thing, single-mindedly pursuing a suspect on a hunch. There were moments here when I genuinely wondered whether I was watching a Columbo-style "howdunit" where the killer is known but our protagonist just has to prove it... but mostly it was clear that Jeremy Boynton was just the very obvious red herring.

And yes, the reveal of the actual murderer ewas well done, but as a whodunit this episode is much less well- constructed than we'd usually expect from Inspector Morse. And yet... this is still a good piece of television precisely because Morse gets it so wrong, leading to real clashes with both Lewis and Superintendent Strange. At last his unorthodox methods lead him to come a cropper.

Yet he bonds with the rather clever Sergeant Maitland, a true kindred spirit played superbly by Mary Jo Randle- I suspect, sadly, we won't be seeing her again. Indeed, this episode breaks the usual format in nodding towards actual police procedure. Morse doesn't just have Lewis here, but others. There's even an incident room.

So the format has been broken, and it's worked. Could it happern again...?

Inspector Morse: The Sins of the Fathers

 "He didn't think Mr Trevor could organise a proverbial. Even in his own brewery."

Last episode was, especially on reflection, utterly superb. And so is this one, full of cleverly interwoven plot threads and nuanced characters played by first rate guest stars... until it isn't. The ending, with its sudden reveal of events back in history which motivated the murderer, doesn't feel earned and, although it doesn't exactly breal Father Knox's traditional rules of detective fiction, it isn't really in the spirit. None of this historical Knox stuff was forewarned to the viewer.

And yet the drama is excellent. Betty Marsden's racist mother, and Lionel Jeffries and Isabel Dean as the horribly snobbish family of the victim, all particularly excel, although we do find ourselves with that age old problem of detective telly, that the most famous guest actors are likely to be the ones whodunit.

The young Alex Jennings, though... wow. I realise he's been ubiquitous on television these last few years, but as a young actor he could exude such nuance and, yes, menace.

A flawed but impressive instalment, though. And, yet again, a remindwr that the world of my early youth is long gone. No more posh old people of that generation, and no more typewriters. But we have real ale still, and long may it persist.

Inspector Morse: The Infernal Serpent

 "It's too warm for lentil soup.

SPOILERS. Be warned....

It's the '90ds now, or it has been for a few days, although, of course, this would have been filmed in 1989, and decades are an artificial thing, amnyway. Not much instantly changes when the year suddenly ends with a zero instead of a nine. This still feels very much the late '80s- a time of payphones, typewriters, nobody under 40 in a t-shirt, and environmentalist only having truly broken through a few years earlier.

And it feels a subtly different time. The open accent snobbery. The fact that environmentalism is not yet particularly about the climate emergency. And yet... the ending packs an enormous punch. Becauseyes, there's a bit of an environmental scandal. And a cover-up, all of which suddenly feels much modern. But throughout, amongst the Copley-Barnes family, there's the constant sense of some hidden secret, something very, very wrong.

The big reveal, at the end, is both effective and devastating. The attitudes to historic child sexual abuse are surprisingly modern, the message right. The Master is able to get away with his crimes because of his social status and Phil, a mere gardener, would never have been believed about his daughter.

Because of snobbery, of class prejudice. I suppose class snobbery always, in its power structures, colludes with paedophilia, which is certainly something to think on.

A superb, well-written bit of telly, this, with a brilliant pay-off. John Thaw, again, is superb in showing both Morse's moral indignation and how bloody difficult he can be. One of the finest episodes yet.

Inspector Morse: The Secret of Bay 5B

 "We were just saying you look very, um, off duty tonight..."

Inspector Morse, somehow more than any television programme of the era, beautifully evokes the many little nuances of the UK in the late 1980s. The cars. The telephones. The fact that middle aged people, the age I am now, would never be seen in jeans and t-shirt. The casual sexism. The existence of the stay-at-home housewife. Middle aged people speaking a kind of received pronunciation that these days is the preserve only of the very old. And, indeed, the lack of CCTV in multi-storey car parks.

The story, perhaps more than most in this third series, is nicely and subtly done. We build a picture of the murdered man- successful, arrogant, a womniser with no poetry in his soul- the polar opposite of Morse who, curmudgeon that he is, continues to pursue a rather sweet romance with Dr Russell, very much not the sort of thing one may expect of the cruder Morse of the novels.

The twists at the end, just at the point where it seems we may have run out of road, are very clever indeed- and it's nice that certain points are made subtly, with no need to force feed the viewer. Sex, greed, blackmail, fury, passion... it's all here. Life is messy, complicated, often dark... yet there is also art, music and good real ale. Morse's is a melancholy world, but not one without its comforts. Much like our own, perhaps.

Inspector Morse: Deceived by Flight

 "You can't arrest a man because his wife won't sleep with him."

This is,perhaps, not as good an episode as some, and it feels for much of its length as though it's drifting somewhat aimlessly... but then, very late, we get the resolution, and it's all damnably clever, the clues all hidden in plain sight.

There's lots to enjoy here, even if we get the hoary old trope that the woman Morse fancies is inevitably the killer. Lewis gets to be good at cricket, and we get to learn Morse's old uni nickname of "Pagan", so-called because he wouldn't reveal his Christian name! I'm not sure that Lewis agreeing to use his leave to go undercover while the DIY was taken care of is at all realistic, but then Colin Dexter always did cheerfully refuse to do any research on police procedure.

There's an ugly look at how rampant homophobia was in 1989- and it was- but the script makrs very clear whose side it's on. Once more we get to see what a different world it was- the cars, the fashions, the technology- despite it being a time I very much remember. Sigh.

Zen philosophy is discussed, and of course E.M. Forster. But there's alsothe philosophy of cricket... and there, I suppose, I'm with Morse.

Inspector Morse: The Last Enemy

 "Dr. Kerridge! We are trying to master the Veleta!"

Nearly a year and a half seem to have gone by since the last time I blogged Inspector Morse. I won't be blogging them that often, but I ought to be getting through the series at a faster pace than that. Ahsoka tomorrow, probably. 

Anyway, good episode as ever, again not from a novel but from an idea by Colin Dexter. This is almost the Platonic ideal of an Inspector Morse episode, I suppose. It's all about arrogant, ambitious Oxford academics sceming against each other while being well-read, rather snobbish and drinking spirits at all times of the day.

Ah, the 1980s. 1989 doesn't feel that long ago- I was twelve- but, as I've remarked before, we have desks without computers, people in the streets wearing suits in away that doesn't happen today, and Morse whingeing about the word processor beginning to challenge the almighty typewriter... while pining for a proper fountain pen with a bottle of ink. Everyone is "Mr", "Mrs" or "Miss", where first names would be used today. It was a long time ago, yet in many respects it wasn't.

There are some splendid turns from the guest cast, and both Kevin Whateley and Amanda Hillwood impress. Yet John Thaw once again excels as the complex man that is Morse, a man who is only slightly older than I am now...

Inspector Morse: The Ghost in the Machine

 "You'll never get on if you can't master your subjunctives!"

This is, if I recall correctly, only the second episode of Inspector Morse, beginning its third series, not to be adapted from a novel by Colin Dexter- although it's based on his idea- and thus to be a script developed directly for television.

It shows.This episode is not particularly atypical, but it is the finest so far. It is, admittedly, helped by a dazzlingly charismatic performance by the sublime Patricia Hodge as (spoilers!) a very human murderer who hides behind aristocratic iciness. It's an episode with a pleasingly intricate plot and- always important, and what the likes of Agatha Christie neglect- excellent characterisation. Unlike Christie, both Colin Dexter and Morse himself were not born with silver spoons in their mouths, as many ordinary RP native speakers are not, and Morse's contempt for the aristocracy, I'm sure, reflects that of Dexter. And the irony of his snobbery- particularly foregrounded here- of Lewis' Geordie origins, whereas he is, of course from a fine part of the world. Not like them Mackems who, I'm told, are oiks.

The twists and turns are splendid. So are Clifford Rose and Patsy Byrne. But Patricia Hodge is truly extraordinary in what is the finest Morse yet.

Inspector Morse: Last Bus to Woodstock

 "Is sex more trouble than it's worth?"

This is another solid episode, with a fairly impressive cast, with a couple of twists at the end> John Thaw, as ever, is superb. But this- based, I believe, on what was Colin Dexter's very first novel in 1975, although updated to not use the phrase "swinging set" or, indeed, the distasteful subplot of John's perviness- doesn't really stand out as an episode.

It's much toned down from the rather edgy novel. Neither of the Crowthers die, and Mary doesn't deliberately murder Sylvia. It leads to a far more sedate experience which shows, more than most episodes, how much has been changed from the rather dark and sexually sleazy early novels. Instead, we have an innocent female student of English Literature who gets #MeToo'd, in a very 1988 way, by a creepd don who faces no consequences, and blames herself, and also gets to talk to Morse about Spenser and the naughty Earl of Rochester.

It's good. I enjoyed it. But this is not, I think, an episode that will linger in the memory.

Incidentally, I'm 44 and don't instinctively think of 1988 as being particularly long ago. I have memories from 1988. It feels modern and contemporary. Yet this is a world of office desks without PC's, of men routinely wearing suits in offices, of calling colleagues "Mr" and "Miss" at work, and of typists. When I started in the Civil Service in 2003, it was literally the Monday after typists had ceased to be a thing...

Inspector Morse: The Settling of the Sun

 "The most suspicious thing of all is an excellent alibi."

This is, as is almost too obvious to point out, the first episode not to be either based on a novel by Colin Dexter or later to be adapted into one- although Dexter, I see, co-wrote the script. And yet, despite the obvious observation that for once the story was fully new to me, it didn't feel obvious. 

Mostly.

Because this episode was superb, but in a way I haven't really seen before in Inspector Morse. It was all about the dialogue- sparse, restrained, quietly and Englishly full of deep pain and anguish, almost Pinterian in its bleak economy of words. This style of dialogue allows clues to double wonderfully as character moments, such as the German student who looks uncannily like Bernard from Yes Minister remarking about how the war infected his childhood, and Jane telling poor Morse- spurned again- how she never fancied them.

The plot is clever, with its double drugs red herring, its Japanese doppelganger plot that is a sly comment on the racism of "they all look the same", its roots in Japanese atrocities in Singapore- to crucify a priest, and make the object of his faith be forever tied to unimaginable trauma is truly evil- which touch upon the theme of endless cycles of revenge, as old as Aeschylus. This is both a superb detective story and a profoundly meaningful drama.

And I must praise Thaw here, whose performance reaches new heights and who seems to relish the Pinterian dialogue. I'm hopeful that the series may still be worth watching once we (mostly) move away from the novels.

Inspector Morse: Last Seen Wearing

 "You were so keen to have a murder. You should be happy."

One ought to bear in mind that Colin Dexter's novel was written fifteen or so years earlier, but it's striking to see that, in 1988, missing persons cases were dealt with via paper files, and in the case of Valerie Craven the number of files means that Morse, "the three file man", has to be called in. It dates the programme quite as much as the appearance of the London Docklands.

The characterisation of Morse here, while fascinating, may be a bit of a time capsule too, and I shall focus on this rather than commenting on the whodunit: I remember the novel too well, He's presented as a devilishly clever chap who is allowed to behave in shockingly unprofessional ways- extensively drinking on the job, not bothering to look at the files, perving at the private schoolgirls doing PE who he denigrates as "rich and thick", being terribly cynical about the whole thing, even forging a letter to the parents of the missing girl- and getting bollocked by Strange for good measure.

Yet, after the bollocking, he gets results. And continues to be a beer snob, a definite point in his favour. The dialogue, and characterisation, is subtly brilliant here, from Morse to Lewis to Strange to the arrogant gaslighting Phillipson to the cultured, Irish, Yeats-quoting Mrs Craven. This is the subtlest, finest, adaptation yet.

But I fear we are, mostly, to be veering off Colin Dexter's path most of the time from here. Let's hope the quality remains.

Inspector Morse: The Wolvercote Tongue

 “Never, ever interrupt me when I'm booking my seat for the opera, Lewis."

Yet again I should start by saying that I've read all of Colin Dexter's novels, albeit some time ago. This includes The Jewel That Was Ours which, in a reversal of the usual pattern, was actually written for the telly first and only later novelised.

I remember only moments from the novel, which has not stayed with me much. I didn't remember the outcome, but don't recall being, as I was here, mildly disappointed with the resolution. I suppose there's a certain red herring cleverness in the Wolvercote Tongue having nothing to do with the killings, but there's something unsatisfying in there being two unrelated events in Laura's death and the theft of the jewel versus Theodore Kemp's shagging and its consequences- although Simon Callow is superb, as always. He's one of those actors who chews the scenery with aplomb, and most certainly in a good way.

I'm also enjoying the further fleshing out of Mose and Lewis, whose relationship is by now fully-formed with obligatory scenes of Lewis being whisked away from the pub when he's hardly started his pint. I'm also very much enjoying the sparring between Morse and Max, as much as the writers clearly are. Peter Woodthorpe's performance has made quite the impression.

We have here a mildly disappointing episode which nonetheless confirms the series is going in pretty much the right direction. John Thaw is superlative, better than any previous episode, with signs that scripts are being written with a known performance in mind. I look forward to the second series proper.

Inspector Morse: Service of All the Dead

 "I'll never understand these religious types."

"That's because you have no soul, Morse."

I can't quite put my finger on why this episode was good but not great, unlike its two predecessors. I've had four pints of Doom Bar, of which I hope Morse would approve. I enjoyed the novel, years ago. The plot and the revelations were fine. There was even much made of a quotation from St Augustine which has much amused me- "Lord, give me chastity, but not yet." Lord, if by any chance you should exist, in spite of your singular failure to provde empiracal evidence, please do no such thing. The missus would not be pleased.

This episode has persuaded me of one thing. If I were, should faith without proof cease to be a requirement, to become a Christian, I probably wouldn't be a High Church Anglican as I'd previously assumed because of culture and that. Like Morse, I find all that imagery of a tortured Christ to be unpleasantly morbid.

I like this episode, altgough it never quite catches fire. As a carer, I very much identify with the very lovely Ruth, a nicely nuanced character. Morse gets some good development in terms of his relationship with her, too: I'm starting to accept John Thaw's gentler version of the character. I am, perhaps, less inclined to accept that the white-haired Thaw was forty-five years old at this point, just a year older than I am today, with only grey flecks in my long hair although rather more in my long beard, and denying all wrinkles. I am not Gandalf yet.

Inspector Morse: The Silent World of Nicholas Quinn

 "There's always a fifty-fifty chance that the man who found the body did the deed..."

This second episode is better than the first: a complex yet logical series of events that furnishes us with the clues quite fairly, with well-rounded characters portrayed by an extraordinary cast of some of this country's finest character actors. Even better, there are a couple of fiendishly clever twists at the end- and the traditional Morse conceit of having our Wagnerian detective make a couple of wrong turns only makes the whole thing more effective.

It's been decades, plural, since I last read the novel, but this seemed like a fairly straight adaptation to me, although with a few extra visual clues slotted in at the start, as would sometimes happen in Granada's Sherlock Holmes. No doubt it's an '80s thing for the ITV franchises which were, of course, still largely in their pre-1991 heyday.

It's also notable how much of Morse's character is by now shaping up- the crosswords are prominent here- and, of course, relevant- as is the Wagner. Morse's attitude to real ale is, of course, eminently civilised. It's good too, and surprising, to see pathologist Max fleshed out a bit. Peter Woodthorpe maks him quite the memorable character.

There's more Oxford architectural porn here, of course, no doubt for the last time. But there's some interestingly dated attitudes here, in a 1987 adaptation of a 1977 novel. Personally, I've never seen Last Tango in Paris, but certainly not out of any prudery; I haven't got around to it, plus I understand the actual making of the film was a bit #MeToo. It's a proper film by a reputable director and I would not, personally, think of it as porn, just a serious film with sex in it.

On the other hand, I hate butter...

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...