KEVIN Whately has himself admitted that Inspector Morse's old sidekick Lewis was never supposed to be a three-dimensional character in his own right. His job, which he did very well, was to be likeable and uncomplicated and ask simple questions so th
at the audience knew what Morse was thinking. Give a character like that his own series and what you essentially have is a plot device and no anchor.
The writers may have attempted to create a new dynamic between Lewis and his laconic sidekick Hathaway, but it is basically the same relationship in reverse, albeit without Morse's gravitas. Once the feckless yin to Morse's world-weary yang, Lewis now resembles a frayed leather satchel in a suit, and although he may be in charge, he still comes across as a hapless if reliable dogsbody. Laurence Fox does a decent job as Hathaway, although like the Lewis of yore, he doesn't really do much other than crack the odd quip and ask the right questions. He's got a good face, though, I'll give him that. Thin and wan, he looks like Edvard Munch's Scream in repose.
A convoluted narrative is the backbone of any good murder yarn, but the plot of this latest episode, which took in gambling addiction, prankster art, forgery, autism and Shelley, was too meandering and implausible by far. And yet it's difficult to express a strong negative reaction towards *Lewis, because at best it is competent, at worst, a bit boring. It is the very definition of a middlebrow detective drama: the pace is leisurely, the direction and scoring tasteful, the acting and occasionally the writing both perfectly serviceable. What it lacks, however, is grit and soul, and the ability to pull the viewer in to a unique and compelling world. But then again, that's not what *Lewis is for, is it? Its aim is merely to placate the audience with two mildly diverting hours of genteel drama on a Sunday evening. And in that respect it's a thundering success.
Comparing it to *Inspector Morse is perhaps slightly unfair yet completely unavoidable. *Morse had atmosphere, depth, and a charismatic central performance. *Lewis has none of these. It's just an ordinary bloke solving crimes slowly. He doesn't even have a distinctive quirk or wacky sidekick to distract you from the failings of the plot. Couldn't they rewrite Lewis so that everything he says is a direct quote from The Bible, or give Hathaway a Hawaiian shirt and an annoying catchphrase? Sure, that would be complete rubbish, but at least it would stir something within you rather than apathy.
**Ricky Gervais: New Hero Of Comedy was a rather excessive title for a documentary about a man who, outside of *The Office and, to a lesser extent, *Extras, hasn't done much of note. His stand-up material is morally dubious and pedestrian, while the popularity of his podcasts owes more to the dim pronouncements of on-air producer Karl Pilkington rather than to Gervais himself. Even his Extras co-star Ashley Jensen struggled to conceal her disdain for his never-ending *Flanimals cash cow.
His defining role as David Brent was rightly praised for the masterful comic performance that it was, but it was notable that none of the talking heads, including Chris Rock, Michael Palin, and Gervais' co-writer Stephen Merchant, showered such praise on his subsequent roles. Billy Connolly appeared to genuinely adore Gervais' stand-up, however, which I put down to either senility or the fact that the great man probably doesn't watch much stand-up these days.
The full article contains 613 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
