#95 Lessons From Across The Pond...
I watch a lot of British TV.
Correction.
I watch a LOT of British murder TV.
If I’ve learned anything from these shows it’s that you never know who might come wandering through your home if something nasty happens to you.
Remember how all our moms told us to wear clean underwear in case we were ever in a car accident?
How we were supposed to be afraid of being judged by strangers due to the state of our undergarments?
Now take a good long think about your house.
ALL the rooms in your house.
Not just the ones you keep looking good for company.
Yes.
That.
I’m off to do some cleaning.
I bet you are too.
Copyright© 2024 Anne Morse Hambrock All rights reserved.
Real People
Another thing I’ve learned from British murder TV is that American murder TV drives me nuts.
My list of gripes:
For every “hour long” American police procedural you get, not only the usual smattering of commercials, but only about eighteen minutes of murder plot and twenty six minutes of soap opera from the life of each main character. (The writers also seem to think we need several opportunities to laugh in between fatalities so they’ve wedged in tons of banter. Or worse, office high jinks.)
Plots that your average five year old could unravel. I dipped my toe into a program recently that basically just drew a straight line to the murderer without even a single red herring. (I’m not even going to tell you the name of the show because I don’t want to send it any eyeballs.)
Pretty, pretty pretty. Not to belittle the appearance of women who work in forensics or law enforcement, but the female cops on American murder shows are not just thin and pretty. They are Hollywood thin and pretty. Like Miss America. (I can’t remember the last time I encountered anyone down at the police station who looked as though they could compete in a beauty pageant. Or hadn’t eaten a legitimate meal since they were fifteen.)
Acting so bad it rivals the dramatic attempts of Kate Capshaw in “Indiana Jones And The Temple Of Doom.” (If you haven’t seen it, trust me, she’s not good.)
To be fair, British murder shows are also, quite possibly, filled with bad acting and dumb dialogue. But they slip it past me with all those charming accents and the stunning scenery. (I’ll put up with a lot when listening to the Northern cadences of Manchester, Scotland or Shetland especially.)
The BBC also seems to be doing a better job with diverse representation when it comes to actors with what we used to call disabilities. They have moved beyond the occasional token character in a wheelchair to main characters with mobility issues and/or cerebral palsy, downs syndrome etc.
I will give a shout out to an American murder show I really enjoy – “Poker Face” starring Natasha Lyonne. It’s smart and funny in the style of the old Columbo. I strongly suggest you check it out on whatever device you use for streaming. (It’s free on Peacock and available for rent on a few other platforms.)
Afternoon Tea
When I traveled to the UK, I fell in love with “Afternoon Tea.”
It turned out that, while one might encounter the fancy “Downton Abbey” style ritual at a hotel or restaurant, a typical “tea” was really just a nice little extra meal served around 3:30 or 4:00 in the afternoon.
Just the right time of day to refresh you and, as Bilbo Baggins would say, “fill up the corners” during that span between lunch and dinner.
These days I do my best to stop whatever I am doing in the late afternoon for a mental reset and a bite to eat.
Cake optional.
A note about my time in the UK – it included a week long harp conference on the charming Isle of Man and, while afternoon tea was certainly a part of the schedule, it had to compete with “cocktail time.”
And “cocktail time” seemed to happen during at least three different junctures once we rounded the noon hour.
I have no idea if this was a British thing or a Manx thing or just a harpist thing…
While Watching All That TV…
As I mentioned last week, I had the bug that, apparently, everyone else in the country had too. And I kind of lied when I said I didn’t have the energy to do anything.
Because I’m never truly capable of doing nothing.
So I watched a lot more British Murder TV than usual.
And did some knitting.
Well, a LOT of knitting.
I hope to have this cablework piece finished soon. Although it will be a challenge to fit it back into the schedule now that I have to be a grownup and get back to all the stuff I didn’t do while I was sick…
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I appreciate the feedback and knowing how often I have struck a chord with your lives.
Yes! British TV mystery series (and not just mysteries) seem to have a bit more realistic view of the varying body types of the human race. And they don't seem quite as ageist either. Turns out people over 30 who aren't stereotypically attractive and who are carrying 30+ extra pounds can have passionate relationships too. Who knew?