Image of characters in “MidSomer Murders” from https://midsomermurders.fandom.com/wiki/Midsomer_Murders |
My wife and I recently have been enjoying a 20-year-old British TV show, “MidSomer Murders.” MidSomer, which I had incorrectly re-wrote in my mind as “Midsummer,” it appears, is a county in England, full of villages with rich, interesting, aroused, murderous people.
It’s entertaining on several levels. For one thing, compared to most American crime shows, the show demands a lot of its viewer in terms of trying to follow multiple characters and multiple, convoluted clues. Frankly, even the creators got sometimes sidetracked—in one episode we watched, there seemed to be four murders, three of which were solved and one of which was forgotten.
And then there are the character types that the show uses, which are significantly different than characters seen in American TV crime shows:
- Horny old ladies. Lots of suggestive looks and double entendres from gray hairs who clearly aren’t yet done.
- Horny middle-aged people. Hollywood acts as if everybody who is an object of desire is 20-something and hot. MidSomer Murders acts as if everybody is 40 or 50, and mildly attractive, and very hot to trot.
- Weird, dysfunctional families. Way more brothers and sisters or people who are brothers and sisters and don’t know it who deliberately or accidentally ending up, well, you know. Yikes! Everybody is horny. Watch out for the vicars, too.
- Killers with strange, obscure motives. Maybe taking revenge for the other crime that happened 120 years ago. Sometimes there’s a slightly supernatural twist—a ghost or “second sight.” Sometimes, the jilted wife is enraged because the husband’s lover has refused him and yet he still loves her and somehow that justifies killing some third party. Motives tend to be a bit complex in this universe.
- Children who are not always cute and cuddly. They often are up to their own nefarious deeds. Facts.
There are also the British settings. Spooky, foggy woods. Old houses. Big old barns. Ancient churches. Broken down trailers/train cars/shacks that some old hermit occupies, sometimes as victim, sometimes as killer, sometimes as weird antihero.
Then there are the recurring characters in the series—Chief Inspector Barnaby and sidekick (there have been more than one). He of the heavy gorilla gate, walking like a tired linebacker through murder scenes, musing to his sidekick about when he is being lied to or who is to be trusted—always, in the end, figuring it out.
The Barnaby family, from http://midsomermurders.org/fitmurder.htm |
She’s not in every episode, but we’re both fond of the inspector’s daughter, who adds some levity to the show. And there are jokes about Mrs. Barnaby, portrayed as an intelligent woman who totally lacks culinary skills (her terrible cooking is an ongoing joke of the series).
And then there are the murders, the weird, entertaining, strange English slaughters. Is the murder rate so low in England that English writes have some trouble understanding how murder works? There are a fair number of shootings, despite strict gun law, but often the murders are overly creative, weirdly complicated and seem like enormous gambles—if you shove the old guy over the edge of the bridge and he falls 5 feet into the shallow stream, how can you be so sure death will be the result? The killers are really lucky in this show.
A typical murder scene: There have been several people in the bell ringing choir or lollypop guild or some other select group, found over the past couple of days with skulls bashed in (or burned inside an effigy or shot at a distance with a target arrow neatly through the heart—don’t he British have any hunting arrows?). Yet, victim number three in the targeted group hears a suspicious noise in the West Wing. She puts on her dressing gown and gingerly pads down the hall, oblivious to the spooky music playing. Suddenly, from behind, we can see the candlestick—odd that, on edge as she should be, she didn’t sense someone walking behind her—and, after she turns and stands still with a frightened look, wham.
Well, a hard clock to the noggin will do it. Yet, so often, the victim sees the murderer brandishing said candlestick, and yet just stands there, a slightly surprised look on their face, awaiting the right moment in the musical score for the big swing. So polite and cooperative, these English murder victims.
In one episode, an antique dealer enters his establishment, packed full of stuff. Far above him, a desk is slowly pushed off of an edge. He stares blankly upward, watching gravity perform its inevitable function. Step to the side? Lift arms to shield head? No, that would be rude—it’s so much more polite to just stand there and wait for the blow, because, well, British.
We’re in the an early season of the series, and my wife has seen more of the shows than I have (a retired person has more evenings free for TV viewing than an employed professor does). I know from looking online that this long-running series, which began in 1997 and was still going on in 2023, goes through a number of cast and character changes, so the current inspector Barnaby may not be forever, even if murderous and horny MidSomer County is.
We’ll have to see, but as we get to more modern times, more recent years, are the aged still randy? And do the murder victims still stand there and politely take it? One can only hope so.