These days I try to leave the business of television criticism to my articulate friend Willie Lupin. Well, he is either an articulate friend or a very bizarre form of decoration.
I cannot, however, let the beginning of a new series of “Lewis” go without a tiny comment or two.
Seldom can a series have got so far up itself. Highbrow ITV is one of the great oxymorons of our time. Have a crap detective show, throw in a couple of references to Shelley and Turner, try to make a joke out of it, and pretend that the joke is very clever, and you have a winning formula. And then they have that awful music in the background. Endless shots of
This weeks plot involved two
This nonsense was written by Alan Plater, normally very reliable. There must have been an “any old shit will do” clause written into his contract.
Lewis is a widower. His wife killed herself rather than play a part in any more of this drivel. I am hoping that he will get it on with Sergeant Hathaway. And very soon. I am not normally a fan of man on man action (either by way of participation or viewing (I know this will disappoint so many of you)), but I suspect that only a thorough rogering by Lewis would be enough to wipe the smug smile off of Hathaway’s face.