Simon Hoggart

Leaders of the pack

Two programmes about singing this week, and they could scarcely have been more different.

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But these were good, decent people — the real hardworking families the politicians go on about but rarely meet. You realise that you’d rather spend an hour with them than 20 seconds with any ghastly, self-obsessed, knobhead lead singer.

Lewis is back (ITV, Sunday) and a very smooth production it is, too. It’s a hereditary show. The cerebral and erudite Morse died, or at least John Thaw did, so his gormless sidekick took over, but with a cerebral and erudite assistant, Hathaway (who has a Tintin hairlick). So when Kevin Whately goes, Laurence Fox can get a thicko as his number two, and so on till the end of time or ITV, whichever comes first.

Actually, Whately has made Lewis a more subtle and complex character than he was under Morse (remember Thaw’s catchphrase, the exasperated ‘Lewis!’) though inevitably interest is shifting to Hathaway.

There are now certain clichés, which are to be found in all ITV dramas (BBC dramas are usually about people living hellish lives in tower blocks). Thus, a meaningful glance in the pre-credits sequence probably alerts you to the murderer.

All rich people and aristocrats are rude to policemen. ‘Yet again, inspector, must we?’

Superintendents are bossy numbskulls obsessed with sticking to the rules.

Detectives never acknowledge the end of a conversation; they nod curtly and turn away instead.

If there is a TV report about the case, they pointlessly switch if off halfway through with an exasperated sigh.

The detective’s sidekick is probably involved emotionally with one of the suspects.

Apart from that, it’s as fresh as tomorrow’s milk.

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