|Index||2 reviews in total|
The obvious main merit of Secret of Bay 5B is the fine portrayals of Morse and Lewis by John Thaw and Kevin Whately. This episode is certainly a very good one, but I don't think it is as good as Ghost in the Machine, Last Enemy or Deceived By Flight. Thaw and Whately are competently aided by a fresh, well-written script and able direction. There is also some excellent camera work, not to mention the beautiful music, and Morse and Dr Russell get a little closer. Amanda Hillwood is as lovely as ever as Dr Russell, and Mel Martin is also impressive as Rosemary Henderson. The well-structured story, about a man found strangled in his car, also shows an alcoholic husband, art forgeries and love affairs, and has all the things that make a typical Morse episode memorable. My only criticism is that the episode does start off a little slower than usual, but other than that I really liked secret Of Bay 5B. 9/10 Bethany Cox.
*** This review may contain spoilers ***
Stylish, as usual, but otherwise unexceptional. The story line is
already adequately laid out so I won't bother with it. The episode
begins with the deliciously blond Mel Martin smoothing lotion over her
underwear-clad self in front of a mirror. A good beginning.
Now, whatever your biological inclinations, I hope you watch this opening scene and the one or two scenes that follow shortly because you won't see much of Mel Martin during the bulk of the program. I've absorbed enough of the programs' configuration to know that this is liable to turn out to be important, if you get my drift.
Best performance by a male: Philip McGough, than whom no one looks more suspicious -- short, blocky, shifty, a serviceable villain in all regards. He's always looking out of the corner of his squinting eyes. Unfortunately he's not around much either.
Most engaging scene: The murder victim, a man strangled in a parking lot, was a womanizer and a client of a high-end hooker who is a real knock out. I mean, this babe has genuine class. She speaks like a duchess, grooms herself like Queen Nour of Jordan, and looks like the princess at a Homecoming Dance. Morse visits her, and she puts the moves on him, even giving him a glass of single malt in her well-appointed flat. She asks if Morse wouldn't like to stay awhile. "There wouldn't be any -- er -- obligation." She and the flabbergasted Morse are face to face and, cut.
The resolution of the mystery depends on a trick suitable, not for Agatha Christie, but for Lieutenant Columbo.
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