Lewis
I’m on an Inspector Lewis binge of late, courtesy of Netflix. I remember watching Inspector Morse a decade ago, starring the late, great John Thaw. Based on the Colin Dexter mystery novels, I liked to think of that show as Murder in Middle England(TM). Oh, Middle England, that idyllic, almost fictional place where Oxford dons indulge in murder while quoting Greek poetry. Lewis was Morse’s subordinate as well as his foil; a blue-collar detective trying to keep up with his classically-educated partner. Now, years later, Lewis has his own show, and this time he’s been given a Cambridge-educated subordinate. I prefer Inspector Lewis to the CSIs and NCISs of the world. You won’t find any zany high-tech detective work here (and, as a corollary, any obligatary nerdy characters who do all the fancy enhance-this-grainy-cell-phone-image-into-a-pristine-billboard-sized-color-photo fantasy tech). And on top of being a good show, Inspector Lewis makes lush use of the always beautiful Oxford as a setting. Having been there twice, I enjoy remembering wandering around the colleges and finding a nice English meadow to lay down in and stare up at the sky. It’s how I recharge my spiritual battery.