gilleliath

Tommy Saxondale is a dick who thinks he's a crusader. The show itself tells you so, and I remember Coogan himself saying 'you wouldn't want to get stuck in a lift with him', yet it leans too much on a likeability that isn't really there.. Deep down he's a decent bloke but he's far too prone to getting self-righteous in situations where he's palpably in the wrong; and the spectacle is generally not entertaining, only wearing. Basically he just can't bear to be contradicted.

There's nothing to be learned from his ranting (if we were looking to sitcoms for that) except that he gets annoyed too easily. Coogan's performance is perhaps a little too carefully observed; his East Midlands accent is a strange choice and his terrible hair and beard is oppressive to watch after a while. Yet Tommy is funny at times (sometimes even deliberately), and subtle in his emotions. He is even capable of the odd moment of epiphany that is genuinely affecting, especially when he is confronted (as we all are sometimes) by the spectacle of his youthful hopes and dreams lying broken by the weight of tedious adult routine, pressing on them relentlessly over the course of decades.

The poisonous Vicky, as played by Morwenna Banks, is great value, and I think Ruth Jones' Magz is my ideal woman - certainly she is a lot better than he deserves. Also a lot of the best gags are (quite unfairly!) about her size. And of course the theme music by Focus deserves a mensh: prog in a nutshell, which arguably is the best way to experience it.

Nothing succeeds like success, does it? This couldn't be more smug if it was Boris Johnson reading his memoirs to a room of estate agents. It couldn't be more entitled if it was Meghan Markle giving herself another award for awesomeness. The plot (evil developers!) and script are unbelievably lame, it's full of fake diversity with working class dialogue taken straight from Only Fools and Horses, and though the cast is of course excellent they can do nothing to save it.

And yet somehow, because it's Richard Osmond - here it is. We only managed to stick half an hour of it.

It's great to see the sheer craftsmanship that goes into each ep of this show from the the actors and writers. In each one you meet brand new characters, one of them murders another one. Columbo gets on the case; at first the perp is amused but soon they are sweating, and then about an hour later he has cracked it and they are getting their collar felt.

Of course it's often too easy, hardly even a test of his powers. Most of the murders are set up to look like an accident, but it's an accident so improbable that even Inspector Clouseau would probably suspect something amiss. But the way Columbo harasses the perp into giving themselves away - double-parking his beat-up old Peugeot, dropping cigar ash on their floors, making them look after his dog, knocking stuff over, bringing in irrelevant anecdotes about that never-seen but brilliant creation Mrs Columbo - is a joy to behold.

It's sometimes claimed, including by Americans, that American humour lacks subtlety. And that can be true of their actual comedy shows, but it certainly isn't here. Columbo makes you laugh without him (or you) losing sight of the fact that he is on a murder case. The show proves that you don't need a maverick with a torrid private life, nor do you need that irritating trick of hiding stuff from the viewer, as long as the basic elements of story, script and character are strong enough.

Of course it's a formula that plenty of other detective shows have used, but - much as I enjoy David Suchet's Poirot and Joan Hickson's Miss Marple - for sheer enjoyment the little man in the mac beats them all.