Murder mystery series, whether in book or television form, have always been amusing to me as far as the overall conceit works. Not the Law & Order-style murder mysteries, where you have professional detectives getting called into investigations because that's their job. But more the Nancy Drew-style series, where an amateur, otherwise regular person goes about their daily life, which just happens to include a gruesome murder every week or so.
It's suspension of disbelief that allows these type of series to survive and flourish. (If you witnessed a murder every week, wouldn't you start to go a little crazy after a while?) And as far as flourishing goes, I am overjoyed that the Australian series Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries is going to come back for a third season sometime later this year, after some consternation and wringing of hands by its fans who were worried that it might be canceled.
I love this show. Once I'd learned that a third season was imminent, I spent the past weekend watching the entire second season (and rewatching part of the first). And let me tell you, suspension of disbelief is never more enjoyable than when you're immersed in Miss Fisher's world. It's Melbourne, Australia in the 1920s. Phryne Fisher has inherited a vast fortune, which allows her the freedom and the funds to dress in couture every day, gallivant around town in her top-of-the-line "motorcar," and support a complete household staff in her luxurious home. Phryne speaks her mind and does what she likes, and she's irresistible with her coiffed black bob and her purr of a voice.
All of this combined with Phryne's insistence on solving crimes and upholding justice would be enough, but there's more. She's talented and athletic, confident and witty, intelligent and intuitive. (As I write this, I wonder how it's possible to love and admire a character with almost no flaws.) Season 2 finds her performing a fan dance at a gentleman's club (all part of an undercover scheme, naturally), acting out a radio drama, directing a film, and showing off her singing abilities. She is sexually voracious and independent; nearly every episode includes a brief moment with a new lover, who is featured in that episode, appears in her bed for one glorious evening, and never turns up again. Sex is fun, guilt-free recreation for Phryne--an extraordinary accomplishment for a woman in that era, and often in this one.
This leaves us wondering what's going to happen with Phryne and Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, whose will-they-or-won't-they chemistry was evident nearly from the first episode and only grows stronger in the second season. The traditional television formula would have us believe that eventually, Jack and Phryne will put aside all their reservations about one another, fall into each other's arms, and live happily ever after. That still could happen here--the sexual tension between them is thick and permeable, and their friendship is solid--but what exactly would "happily ever after" look like for these two? It's practically unthinkable that Phryne would settle down into a quiet, romantic life with Jack, and as much as I want them to be together, I would also be disappointed by that kind of ending.
The good news is that we've got Season 3 to look forward to now. Spoiler alert--there are a few tantalizing "almost" moments in this most recent season, but Jack and Phryne never do share as much as a first kiss, making the advent of the third season that much more exciting.
In "Dead Air," the 11th of 13 episodes in Season 2, Jack Robinson counsels his constable, the boyish Hugh Collins, on how to respond to the fact that Hugh's fiancee Dot (Phryne's constant companion) doesn't want to quit working once they get married. Poor traditional Hugh isn't sure how to take it. "That's the paradox of pursuing a modern woman," Jack tells him. And he would know.
Look at these two! I mean, seriously. Can't wait for Season 3.
No comments:
Post a Comment