“The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.”
Jonathan Creek, master supernatural detective, is back! Hurrah, right?
No, actually. Not hurrah.
Because where The Letters of Septimus Noone was all kinds of awesome, The Sinner and the Sandman falls down flat. For a start, the mystery – how did a failed psychic predict the numbers of a big lottery win fifty years before it happened? – is not very mysterious at all; it seems to me that fifty years is a lot of lottery numbers, and simple probability tells us that the right set of numbers is going to come up some time. Any intelligent detective should be able to spot that easily.
Also, Jonathan would insist on wandering around doing Random Mysterious Soliloquizing – “Oh, it all makes sense now…yes…I just have to check one thing first” – without telling us what he is banging on about, which is bad enough when he’s in company, but when he does it to himself it’s just an extremely clunky way of ratcheting up the tension by treating the audience as if they are stupid. It’s also very annoying.
Add to that the fact that Jonathan and his wife have absolutely no chemistry, a supposedly intelligent man goes out into a dark stormy night to hunt down a mysterious creature with glowing eyes (Sherlock, anyone?) and the denouement is rushed and unsatisfying, and you find that The Sinner and the Sandman is a clunky, not-very-inspired disappointment from Jonathan Creek.
Maybe next week’s will be better.