So hands up: who’s as addicted to whodunits as I am?! In writing or on screen – doesn’t matter. To me, the appeal is just the same. When I say whodunits, I mean classic gems like The Thin Man series or Perry Mason, the kind of stories that focus on suspense rather than gore. Not the kind of murder mystery we have seen on worldwide bestseller lists for many years now or the numerous police shows, no matter how successful or gripping they may be.
See, I grew up exchanging Miss Marple novels with my grandma, watching all of Perry Mason and reading Alfred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators, as well as The Famous Five. My mom introduced me to The Father Brown Mysteries and I remember falling in love with Hart to Hart when I was peek-a-booing from behind my (grand)parents’ couch. I always loved the hilariously witty dialogue, the thrilling stories and most of all, the shrewd but darling characters, which is why I was probably destined to also fall for Murder, She Wrote in my teens, another show I still greatly enjoy as an adult today. I find myself every bit as drawn to the classic tales of an infallible investigating hero as back in the days when I was as a girl who loved to play detective wherever she went with whomever would humor me. And I find a sparkle of innocence I often miss in a lot of today’s mystery shows paired with a usually clear message of right versus wrong.
One of the few recent shows I feel picks up on my favorite genre and storylines is Castle with its disarmingly charming male lead and love interest policewoman. The show does a beautiful job at never getting too dark, it’s always entertaining and it is simply terrifically cast. Another program I greatly enjoyed was the Lifetime TV movie adaptations of Ellen Byerrum’s A Crime of Fashion novels Hostile Makeover and Killer Hair. Same groundwork on the suspense-minus-gore front with an addition of a vintage-addicted female lead, and yes, you’ve already guessed it, a love interest policeman in that case.
So all right, now may be the time to admit it, I have a rather pronounced weakness for a strong touch of classy romance sprinkled on top of all the investigating and the suspense. But what’s wrong with that?! Isn’t that what makes the characters so appealing after all, that glimpse of an amorous private life in addition to their gritty adventures? I mean, can you really imagine Nick Charles without his Nora or Perry Mason without his Della Street? I surely can’t and gladly confess to preferring Margaret Rutherford’s four Miss Marple stints from the 1960s over any other adaptation because Mr. Stringer was so loyal to her in his admiration. Always a romantic even in the most tenuous of storylines…