But she's done, and I don't blame her. 56 episodes, each an hour and a half. Each a small movie. All within 14 years. Jesus, I'd be worn out.
What makes it sad is this is one of the more polished BBC murder mysteries. Some of the writing is simple and the revelations are simplistic, but they feel right, overall. No padding done. Nothing cozy about them. They seem to stick closer to real police procedure than other shows.
Don't get me wrong--I like Midsomer Murders and Agatha Raisin and the Miss Marple mysteries, when I'm looking for something to have my tea with instead of a Guinness. And the David Suchet Poirot mysteries are fun. Plus it helps make the movies better having David Leon back; he and Brenda Blethyn play well off each other.
But I'm sad that these will be the last. Maybe David will take over the franchise. No telling. Still, the next one's out next Thursday...and I'll be en route home from Seattle. Hopefully. Weather is not promising.
After that one, I may rewatch them all, start to finish.
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