Wycliffe uses a dull knife of plodding detectery to pry these mysteries out of the gray sea and apparently endless you've-seen-one-you've-seen-them-all moorish landscapes. In almost every one the perpetrator and plot ending are revealed long before the hour is up. Revealed to the audience, that is. Wycliffe and his team take a bit longer. These are the bog-standard fare for older British detective series -- not much originality, not much emotion except the occasional bark of the boss when he is discommoded, lots of old ratty hotels and fusty pubs with less-than-winsome barmaids. A lot of the scenes consist of a couple of the detectives nursing beers in a bar in the evening, fussing about which direction the case should take next. They never agree. I'm watching almost all the episodes because I've already watched every other British mystery series a half dozen times. This is one of the least of these, my brethren.
Review of Wycliffe
