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  • Writer's pictureEm Finan

Episode 3: How Alan Davies saved me from Lockdown



About a month into lockdown in my university student house, I was beginning to despair. I’d already binged my way through nearly every episode of Inside No. 9 and for some reason, watching the same, familiar episodes of Peep Show and The Thick of It (my go-to comfort programmes) had finally worn through. I was eager to find something else still quintessentially British and dark, yet hilarious, as I often struggled to stay interested in the more ‘wholesome’ offers from US television.

My housemate suggested I try Jonathan Creek, a rather musty drama/black comedy/mystery series from the BBC archives of the 90s and the early 2000s. I’d heard it referenced in pop culture and conversations around me growing up and was a moderate fan of Alan Davies from his QI appearances, so I decided to give it a go.


From the opening bars of Camille Saint-Saëns’s Danse macabre to the ending credits, I was ABSORBED.

It was dated, that was for sure, but was filled with the pleasant nostalgia of pre-digital life and the gentle rustic mysteries I associated with the kind of programmes watched by my grandmother. I loved that Jonathan and Maddy couldn’t just search their suspects up on Facebook, or hold a stakeout in some grimy London back alley. There was no fast car chase or intense computer hacking. They shuttled around the southern English countryside in Maddy’s awful banger of a car and swindled their way into getting information from people with Caroline Quentin’s effortless charisma. Maddy wore double-denim and obscene plastic earrings that clattered when she moved, Jonathan shuffled around in his aged green duffle coat - it was about as unglamorous as it gets. As I watched more and more episodes, I adored the bumbling, analog way they conducted their investigations; the cheesiness of dialogue, the carbon copy English stately homes, and equally middle-class families always involved in some awful (and seemingly impossible) crime. It was all my rural, middle-class nostalgia-filled dreams I’d collected from the various classic murder mysteries I’d read over the years. I was absolutely hooked. I’ve always been a schmuck for mystery/detective stories (particularly those starring a sort of offbeat, lowkey soft-boy as seen in Twin Peaks and The Adventures of Tintin) and my boy Jonathan sealed the deal. I am someone whose radio station of choice is Radio 2. I enjoy programs like Dad's Army and Pointless. I am a 50-year-old trapped in the body of a 20-year-old and Jonathan Creek ticked every box of my middle-aged criteria.


Embarrassingly, I do think part of my complete engrossment with David Renwick’s series was this bizarre infatuation with the young Alan Davies himself. Months after my first viewing, I still am harboring a weird crush on the dark, slightly surly, curly-haired sleuth. Jonno is definitely living his best cottagecore life in his windmill in the middle of Sussex countryside - if only I could join him.

It also kick-started another fascination with the beautiful Caroline Quentin, of Men Behaving Badly fame, who plays the charismatic and vivacious Maddy Magellan in the first three series. I was so impressed and refreshed by this likable and attractive character being slightly older, slightly bigger than the average ‘female sidekick’. She was an outspoken feminist icon, still managing to look gorgeous whilst eating heartily and not really having her life together.

The slow-burn, will-they-won’t-they relationship between the two leads provided me with MUCH joy (and frustration) throughout lockdown and is a fantastic background driving force behind the ‘mystery of the week.’ Their interactions and relationship are some of the best on-screen chemistry and character writing I’ve ever seen and provides an ongoing tension, picking up the storyline when the investigation lapses in focus. Of course, some episodes fall flat, when the pay off is too boring or convoluted or just a bit too convenient, or the single-appearance characters produce a sub-par acting performance. But overall, despite a few disappointments here and there and some problematic archaic content, I loved nearly every second. It didn’t matter if I wasn’t 100% convinced by the plot or characters, I just enjoyed escaping the dreariness of Covid-19 land for a blissful hour.

Much like when The Doctor regenerates in Doctor Who, I distrusted the new ‘female sidekick’ in series 4, where Carla Borrego (played by the gorgeous Julia Sawalha aka Ginger the chicken from Chicken Run) replaced Maddy. But again, much like when Eccleston became Tennant, I learned to like the new face. Carla is more haughty and uptight than Maddy, and the new simmering sexual tension that I previously (and religiously) over-analysed is rather changed by the fact she’s married to a character played by Adrian Edmonson. But the new dynamic is fun and hilarious and I ended up being surprised at how much I came to enjoy her episodes and character arc. Sadly, Sawalha fell out with David Renwick; Carla disappears and is rather dragged in-universe, bitterly recounted by Jonathan as having officially snubbed him.

After Sawalha’s departure, my adoration of the show does sadly wane. Sheridan Smith is the antithesis of her usual ‘air-headed slapper’ routine as the quick, lateral-thinking paranormal investigator Joey, and her episodes are alright, but by this time it was almost 2010 and the comforting, dated feeling of the series had passed. The world of Creek was rapidly starting to resemble my own, digital world and suddenly the illusion of escapism had shattered.

I continued to watch until I came to the 2013-14 episodes and at one point Jonathan held up an iPhone and that was it - I could watch no more. I returned straight to the early episodes of 1997 and settled back into the gentle, cheesy world of dreadful 90s haircuts and fax machines.

Deep down I wonder if my dislike for the recent specials and episodes comes from the fact that my man is now married to the much younger and prettier Polly Creek (Sarah Alexander) and also is kind of… old now?

Where was my awkward, lanky, brown haired Alan? This man was violently grey, kind of tired looking and a bit saggy.

No hate to Mr Davies - I still love him and even sought out his rather lowkey autobiography like a creepy mega fan (maybe I am at this point) leading to my quite encyclopedic knowledge of his life. It also warmed my heart to know that Rik Mayall was one of his inspirations to get into comedy and so Mayall’s incredible role as police detective Gideon Pryke is made all the more wonderful.

Anyway, the point of all this was supposed to convince people to give the vastly underrated series a watch. My favourite episodes are House of Monkeys, which features a genuinely disturbing gorilla suited man and the Christmas special Black Canary, which stars the aforementioned Mayall and I feel, encapsulates the gently riveting and entertaining nature of Jonathan Creek.

Lydia McMullan’s 2020 article for the Guardian entitled ‘My top tip for coping with coronavirus anxiety? Watch Jonathan Creek’ is something I can only heartily agree with on every level -

it definitely saved me from going a bit loopy during lockdown and transported me to a much simpler and happy world to the one of April 2020. Also indoctrinated me with a cringe-worthy obsession of late 90s culture and my beautiful man Alan (and I also swiftly purchased a duffle coat), but swings and roundabouts!



https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2020/apr/17/alan-davies-jonathan-creek-caroline-quentin-maddy-magellan-sleuth - Lydia McMullan, ‘My top tip for coping with coronavirus anxiety? Watch Jonathan Creek’


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