Lovejoy is an irresistible rogue with a keen eye for antiques. The part-time detective scours the murky salerooms, auction halls and stately homes of Britain, always on the lookout for a find.
Tink's decision to leave antiques and open a pub causes Lovejoy to pop the question to Charlotte, but things become complicated with Jane's return from America.
Whilst visiting a scrap yard for a replacement indicator lamp for his truck Lovejoy buys an old iron canon,which gets him stopped by the police and almost destroys a pub's cellar. This attracts the ...
Alcoholic and divorced father of a young daughter, DS Jim Bergerac is a true maverick who prefers doing things his own way, and consequently doesn't always carry out his investigations the way his boss would like.
Stars:
John Nettles,
Terence Alexander,
Sean Arnold
Arthur Daley, a small-time conman, hires former boxer Terry McCann to be his 'minder', so Terry can protect him (Arthur) from other, small-time, crooks. While Terry is trying his hardest to... See full summary »
Stars:
George Cole,
Glynn Edwards,
Dennis Waterman
Ken Boon and Harry Crawford are two middle-aged ex-firemen. Harry retires and opens a hotel (The Grand Hotel), with Ken as a temporary odd-job man. During the seven seasons (1986-1992), Ken... See full summary »
Stars:
Michael Elphick,
David Daker,
Neil Morrissey
Disillusioned after a long career at Sunshine Desserts, Perrin goes through a mid-life crisis and fakes his own death. Returning in disguise after various attempts at finding a 'new life', ... See full summary »
Stars:
Leonard Rossiter,
Pauline Yates,
John Barron
The prison life of Fletcher, a criminal serving a five-year sentence, as he strives to bide his time, keep his record clean, and refuses to be ground down by the prison system.
Arkwright is a tight-fisted shop owner in Doncaster, who will stop at nothing to keep his profits high and his overheads low, even if this means harassing his nephew Granville. Arkwright's ... See full summary »
Ria, a happily married suburban housewife, reaches the age where she feels as if life is passing her by. Being taken for granted by her butterfly collecting dentist husband doesn't help. So... See full summary »
Stars:
Wendy Craig,
Geoffrey Palmer,
Bruce Montague
Bodie and Doyle, top agents for Britain's CI5 (Criminal Intelligence 5), and their controller, George Cowley fight terrorism and similar high-profile crimes. Cowley, a hard ex-MI5 operative... See full summary »
British sitcom in which an unhappily married man discovers he can time travel back to 1940s war-torn London where he masquerades as an MI5 agent and part-time songwriter whilst courting the local barmaid.
Stars:
Nicholas Lyndhurst,
Victor McGuire,
Christopher Ettridge
Wolfie Smith is an unemployed dreamer from Tooting, London, a self-proclaimed urban guerrilla who aspires to be like his hero Che Guevara. He leads a small group called the Tooting Popular ... See full summary »
Lovejoy is a loveable rogue and an antiques dealer with an amazing talent for spotting hidden treasures. When not looking for the odd collectible, Lovejoy spends most of his time using his con-artist skills to help out the less fortunate. His partners in crime are wealthy Lady Jane, his dim assistant Eric, and the genially intoxicated Tinker.Written by
Mike Konczewski
In the novels, Lovejoy was in his twenties. Ian McShane was forty-four when he first played the character, and forty-eight when the series began properly in 1991. See more »
Quotes
Lovejoy:
Do we have to bring mistrust and suspicion into this?
See more »
When I sat first sat down for a rerun of Lovejoy after nearly eight years of last seeing its final episode, I was prepared for some nostalgia. However, the nostalgia turned out to be not just mine, but an integral part of the show. This is not necessary something you would associate with Jonathan Gash's novels about the shady exploits of the no-less shady antique dealer Lovejoy. The first series was a bit closer to the spirit of the novels, as some of the scripts were adaptations, but the results were still somewhat uneven, jumpy pieces of television drama. It was only after the show was revived five years later that it broke loose from the original guidelines, and by the third series it had developed a more polished and delightful identity that is as much its own as Gash's creation. And this identity is all about fantasy and nostalgia.
Just look at the characters: There's Dudley Sutton's Tinker Dill, the tipsy but lovable olde-world gentleman with his perennial beret, tweed suit, campy army reminiscences, and a ready selection of antique trivia, poetry quotes and the admonishment "Visigoths!" for every occasion (this character particularly was softened from the cynical lush portrayed in the first series). And Chris Jury's Eric Catchpole, the leather-jacketed, heavy-metal-gobbling working-class youth and butt of jokes, ever aspirant but almost never bright or classy enough to strike out on his own. His somewhat neglected replacement from the fifth series on, Diane Parish's lively Beth Taylor, seemed to pose problems for the writers, perhaps because it's okay to take the mickey out of a young white man but less okay to take it out of a younger black woman.
Then there's Phyllis Logan's Lady Jane Felsham, the white, far-from-brittle English rose, who doubled as the unreachable object of Lovejoy's romantic longing and as a "nice aristo" with cash and class to support his operations - much to the chagrin of her too-stuffy-by-half husband. Caroline Langrishe's Charlotte Cavendish, who replaced her in the fifth series, may have been airbrushed as a more independent career woman, but ultimately she too was designed as a beauty with a posh accent and suspectibility to roguish charm.
And finally Ian McShane's Lovejoy himself, scampering along as if his jeans were too tight, spinning endless yarns to get him out of a tight spot (and often in them, as well), or taking a double-take glance at something precious - either antique or female - among the junk. As one guest character points out, he is an eternal boy, never "Mister Lovejoy", always unattached, always living basically from hand to mouth. So quite different from the Lovejoy of Gash's novels: the cynical, sexist, womanising, manipulative little schemer whom we should still like, because he supposedly does it all with oh such charm and is occasionally even capable of such great displays of basic human decency as putting people above things. And despite the occasional corpse and threat of bodily harm, the adventures of Lovejoy and his entourage in the series are really boyish romps in search of hidden treasures and a bit of budding romance, providing ample opportunity for excitement, witty banter, humorous escapades and lectures in art history - both real and invented. As if to confirm the juvenility of it all, three of the six series featured Malcolm Tierney's delightfully slimy rival dealer Charlie Gimbert as a bullyboy to be dodged and sent up.
But there's more to it, namely Lovejoy's love for antique for its beauty and preciousness - which doesn't stop him from making profit with it. The highly romanticised view of all that's old and hand-crafted with skill and love is a good excuse to hide from the anxiety about the new. This is why the series has dated little over the years: apart from a stray blast of instantly dateable pop music or fashion, almost all of it takes place in the affected timelessness of dusty antique shops, stately country homes or picturesque small towns where the newest thing in sight is Lady Jane's Range Rover. Of course Range Rover, because this is also about saving British heritage - whether it be medals, paintings or the right people - and pulling a fast one on those who see it as nothing more than a business opportunity or an obstacle to progress. Those who are helped are the little people, loveable eccentrics or down-on-their-luck gentry who still harbour the old skills and crafts or are bit useless but decent folks who deserve a helping hand. And those who get shafted are scheming dealers, greedy real-estate developers, yuppie upstarts or brash Yanks and ockerish Aussies with more money than manners - all those Thatcher's disciples clamouring for ruthless efficiency and frightful modernity.
In short, this combination of British archetypes, ironically tinged nostalgia about the old world and jolly adventuring makes for a perfect British fantasy world, the kind that, to outsiders like myself, is probably more real than the real Britain. Like Lovejoy's loaned Volkswagen, Miriam, in series three, it may be a bit rundown, and quite a bit inefficient, but it's got history and character - and it's all we can afford. It's a world where quick wit, a dash of style and knowledge of the past and the crafts of old can still win over ruthless economic realities, tasteless pomp and all the newfangled technology. It's an enticing vision. It's almost complete and utter tosh.
And it works brilliantly. Apart from a slight drop of quality during the final series, the show maintained a high standard of stories, dialogue and acting that kept me watching long after a mere nostalgia trip would have lost its potency. In fact, it's disturbing to see how different this series is from much of today's programming. Few subsequent shows have tried such an almost naïvely waggish approach and fewer still have made it work without coming across as cynical or calculating. Or perhaps I'm just getting old...
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When I sat first sat down for a rerun of Lovejoy after nearly eight years of last seeing its final episode, I was prepared for some nostalgia. However, the nostalgia turned out to be not just mine, but an integral part of the show. This is not necessary something you would associate with Jonathan Gash's novels about the shady exploits of the no-less shady antique dealer Lovejoy. The first series was a bit closer to the spirit of the novels, as some of the scripts were adaptations, but the results were still somewhat uneven, jumpy pieces of television drama. It was only after the show was revived five years later that it broke loose from the original guidelines, and by the third series it had developed a more polished and delightful identity that is as much its own as Gash's creation. And this identity is all about fantasy and nostalgia.
Just look at the characters: There's Dudley Sutton's Tinker Dill, the tipsy but lovable olde-world gentleman with his perennial beret, tweed suit, campy army reminiscences, and a ready selection of antique trivia, poetry quotes and the admonishment "Visigoths!" for every occasion (this character particularly was softened from the cynical lush portrayed in the first series). And Chris Jury's Eric Catchpole, the leather-jacketed, heavy-metal-gobbling working-class youth and butt of jokes, ever aspirant but almost never bright or classy enough to strike out on his own. His somewhat neglected replacement from the fifth series on, Diane Parish's lively Beth Taylor, seemed to pose problems for the writers, perhaps because it's okay to take the mickey out of a young white man but less okay to take it out of a younger black woman.
Then there's Phyllis Logan's Lady Jane Felsham, the white, far-from-brittle English rose, who doubled as the unreachable object of Lovejoy's romantic longing and as a "nice aristo" with cash and class to support his operations - much to the chagrin of her too-stuffy-by-half husband. Caroline Langrishe's Charlotte Cavendish, who replaced her in the fifth series, may have been airbrushed as a more independent career woman, but ultimately she too was designed as a beauty with a posh accent and suspectibility to roguish charm.
And finally Ian McShane's Lovejoy himself, scampering along as if his jeans were too tight, spinning endless yarns to get him out of a tight spot (and often in them, as well), or taking a double-take glance at something precious - either antique or female - among the junk. As one guest character points out, he is an eternal boy, never "Mister Lovejoy", always unattached, always living basically from hand to mouth. So quite different from the Lovejoy of Gash's novels: the cynical, sexist, womanising, manipulative little schemer whom we should still like, because he supposedly does it all with oh such charm and is occasionally even capable of such great displays of basic human decency as putting people above things. And despite the occasional corpse and threat of bodily harm, the adventures of Lovejoy and his entourage in the series are really boyish romps in search of hidden treasures and a bit of budding romance, providing ample opportunity for excitement, witty banter, humorous escapades and lectures in art history - both real and invented. As if to confirm the juvenility of it all, three of the six series featured Malcolm Tierney's delightfully slimy rival dealer Charlie Gimbert as a bullyboy to be dodged and sent up.
But there's more to it, namely Lovejoy's love for antique for its beauty and preciousness - which doesn't stop him from making profit with it. The highly romanticised view of all that's old and hand-crafted with skill and love is a good excuse to hide from the anxiety about the new. This is why the series has dated little over the years: apart from a stray blast of instantly dateable pop music or fashion, almost all of it takes place in the affected timelessness of dusty antique shops, stately country homes or picturesque small towns where the newest thing in sight is Lady Jane's Range Rover. Of course Range Rover, because this is also about saving British heritage - whether it be medals, paintings or the right people - and pulling a fast one on those who see it as nothing more than a business opportunity or an obstacle to progress. Those who are helped are the little people, loveable eccentrics or down-on-their-luck gentry who still harbour the old skills and crafts or are bit useless but decent folks who deserve a helping hand. And those who get shafted are scheming dealers, greedy real-estate developers, yuppie upstarts or brash Yanks and ockerish Aussies with more money than manners - all those Thatcher's disciples clamouring for ruthless efficiency and frightful modernity.
In short, this combination of British archetypes, ironically tinged nostalgia about the old world and jolly adventuring makes for a perfect British fantasy world, the kind that, to outsiders like myself, is probably more real than the real Britain. Like Lovejoy's loaned Volkswagen, Miriam, in series three, it may be a bit rundown, and quite a bit inefficient, but it's got history and character - and it's all we can afford. It's a world where quick wit, a dash of style and knowledge of the past and the crafts of old can still win over ruthless economic realities, tasteless pomp and all the newfangled technology. It's an enticing vision. It's almost complete and utter tosh.
And it works brilliantly. Apart from a slight drop of quality during the final series, the show maintained a high standard of stories, dialogue and acting that kept me watching long after a mere nostalgia trip would have lost its potency. In fact, it's disturbing to see how different this series is from much of today's programming. Few subsequent shows have tried such an almost naïvely waggish approach and fewer still have made it work without coming across as cynical or calculating. Or perhaps I'm just getting old...