Amy, an artist, and Rupert, a writer, are a middle-aged British couple who double as amateur detectives.Amy, an artist, and Rupert, a writer, are a middle-aged British couple who double as amateur detectives.Amy, an artist, and Rupert, a writer, are a middle-aged British couple who double as amateur detectives.
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This was a very lightweight comedy detective series, where a pair of glamorous but grounded, impossibly pleasant, middle-aged creative types sailed through life and the picturesque parts of Yorkshire solving mysteries. Julia Foster was artist Amy, realistic, understanding, unthreatening but sexy, with a hairstyle that appeared to be armour plated, often seen in sophisticated Janet Reger undies. John Stride was thriller-writer Rupert, grumpy, perpetually trying to avoid income tax, smooth and witty, acerbic and brilliant.
John Lee, as Rupert's agent, would generally drop in, to provide some comedy and leaven the sweetness and light. He was usually a welcome addition, and made more appearances as the series developed.
They were appealing to a particular demographic, of risk-averse middle aged people who really wanted to swan around being wonderful. Even their car, a Triumph TR7, was British Leyland's latest attempt to woo the aspiring driver. The show only managed a series, so perhaps that demographic wasn't so well-populated.
It was a light-hearted piece of entertaining froth, fun to watch, but no more memorable than candy floss, as comfortable as a pair of old slippers (with the exception of an oddly downbeat final episode, which may possibly have hinted at new directions in the future, and possibly dissatisfaction with the current).
Rather like The Beiderbecke Affair, it probably needs you to want to be these people to enjoy it to the max. But really, it made The Beiderbecke Affair seem like Strindberg.
John Lee, as Rupert's agent, would generally drop in, to provide some comedy and leaven the sweetness and light. He was usually a welcome addition, and made more appearances as the series developed.
They were appealing to a particular demographic, of risk-averse middle aged people who really wanted to swan around being wonderful. Even their car, a Triumph TR7, was British Leyland's latest attempt to woo the aspiring driver. The show only managed a series, so perhaps that demographic wasn't so well-populated.
It was a light-hearted piece of entertaining froth, fun to watch, but no more memorable than candy floss, as comfortable as a pair of old slippers (with the exception of an oddly downbeat final episode, which may possibly have hinted at new directions in the future, and possibly dissatisfaction with the current).
Rather like The Beiderbecke Affair, it probably needs you to want to be these people to enjoy it to the max. But really, it made The Beiderbecke Affair seem like Strindberg.
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