There are mystery series for all tastes. In this universe populated by platforms, crimes are everywhere. Sometimes, a simple police officer treated with impulse and solvency (Line of dutyfor example) achieves high levels of quality and popularity without inventing anything. In Bookish It’s not even invented, it’s just innovated, and not much. It wasn’t necessary: the series has excellent criminal precedents from which to build an entertaining product with solid evidence. The creator and protagonist is Mark Gatiss, co-creator and actor (a splendid Mycroft Holmes) in Sherlock from the BBC.
The season is made up of three criminal cases divided into batches of two chapters for a total of six already available on Filmin. For this review we have seen the first two mysteries, that is, four chapters.
First of all you have to accept the rules of the game. London, 1946. Book, this is the name of the investigative bookseller – a former military spy turned unconventional detective – is the owner of two things: a wonderful bookshop and a letter written by Winston Churchill himself which grants him permission to access crime scenes and investigate them. He is married to Trottie (a wonderful Polly Walker who we saw in Bridgerton OR Rome) but it is not a traditional marriage but one of convenience: Book is gay and thus manages to survive in a world where homosexuality was persecuted and punished. He has a dream stationery shop next to the bookcase. Everything here is enough to stay and live inside. The reflection of their friendship on screen, their verbal exchanges and their complicity give a special touch to the series.
The main trio is completed with Jack, a young man with a prison past who comes to work in the bookshop, and not by chance. And there is, as it couldn’t be otherwise, a police inspector with very few lights, a textbook Lestrade.
The setting is exquisite and the reconstruction of London in full reconstruction (especially the one shot on sets) is rich in detail. The Book’s bookstore is a magical place and the short conversations about books are a fascinating incentive.
Book is a bit of a Sherlock: fast, intuitive, two steps ahead of the others, but Gatiss has given himself a character out of the ordinary. As a bookseller he has that pedantic edge without exaggerating (pay attention to the list of titles, and some freebies for crime fiction fans) and as a researcher he is original. In both areas he applies his theory: he uses a system (very particular, yes) and, in a world governed by chaos, it is still a value.
The resolution of the first crime is classic, explanatory, conclusive. A few turns are enough to show how it could have been, as if it were Hercule Poirot at the end of one of Agatha Christie’s novels, performing circumlocutions and possibilities before unmasking the real person responsible.
The second crime maintains the vital signs of the first, which is appreciated: when the bet is original, when the point of view or tone changes, you risk staying there (Elsbeth OR Matlock are the last two examples). This second double installment of chapters focuses on a shooting that takes place right in the library. This location represents another classic touch, to which Book also dedicates a sentence: the idea that wherever the protagonists are (let Jessica Fletcher tell it) there will be death and crime. It’s a delightful mess of intrigue, false names, unspeakable pasts and other narrative devices resolved with the efficiency typical of good series.
Even the credits are a little marvel. Remember the impact of Only murders in the building (Only murders in the building), the originality, the tone? Well, similar, but in London in 1946. Come in and enjoy.
