OK, so let’s see what detective work was like in the era prior to Sherlock Holmes. It sucked? Well, that’s that, I guess. Good thing we didn’t waste much time there.
Right before the invention of Benedict Cumberbatch, the BBCwas –apparently- still experimenting with period and community-centric detective shows. I have it on good authority that after Father Brown, Inspector Morse, and Miss Marple, there was going to be a Victorian Era criminologist/chimney sweep by the name of Mortimer Quidfarthing. Instead, it was scrapped in favor of Mr Whicher (Paddy Consadine), an 1860s gentleman sleuth with neither a flair for the dramatic, nor any demonstrable detection skills.
Clearly, I’ve been too hard on Father Brown.
The tipoff here is The Suspicions of Mr Whicher: The Murder at Road Hill House was based on true events. Almost no real life homicides are half as exciting as fictional ones. And while this was indeed tragic – a three-year-old-boy is murdered- the investigation is as dull as the nothing town Whicher invades.
Reputation preceding him, Whicher is called from his London jurisdiction to investigate the murder of Saville Kent in Wiltshire – just in case you were wondering if this production were sufficiently English, the screenplay is peppered with enough Kents and Wiltshires for an Anglo-sploosh. Whicher pokes about for 45 minutes, almost asking probing questions and once nearly discovering a clue. Don’t worry; it’s never seen.
I’ve seen a number of these BBC mysteries over the years, and this one doesn’t work. For the genre, this work is uncharacteristically stilted and shallow. The screenplay is evident in the direction: Enter chamber maid, feigns shock, shouts something that just doesn’t quite match the tone of the scene … We’ve all watched far too much “Sherlock”, of course, so it’s understandable that other detectives will not match up, but, c’mon. Halfway through this nonsense, the script insists that an arrest be made, hence detective Whicher complies, stating he knows who the killer is. Oh, this is our moment of truth is it? The detective is going 
to school us on how foolish we’ve been as viewers; all those oblique conversations and hidden-in-plain-sight evidence will be trotted out in front of us to a chorus of self-chastising, “I should have seen that.”
No. That did not happen. Instead what happened is Whicher returns back to his one and only clue … the one he never found, btw, makes a fairly baseless accusation and the rest of the film is trial. On top of that, this is the first crime production in a while in which I didn’t believe the accused is guilty. Chalk it up to acting or direction – it can be both, but it has to be at least one – I honestly didn’t believe, even after seeing the whole film, that Whicher “got his man.”
The Suspicions of Mr Whicher: The Murder at Road Hill House is fairly lifeless and misleading. It assumes a relationship with the hero that doesn’t exist. Perhaps I would have been endeared to Whicher’s stoicism or straightforward manner had I seen this character for several episodes already, however not having had the “pleasure,” Whicher’s unflinching and suspiciously unsuspicious manner comes off as aloof and pig-headed. I didn’t really care for the man, hence I was far more concerned that his judgment was clear. From what I could discern, it could go either way. Any BBC production deserves at least mild attention, but this one didn’t work. A star-and-a-half is being generous. This film doesn’t belong in the Holmes & Watson microsphere, but it’s not far removed.
BBC mystery fail, oh bummer
Hoping for something to leave me less numb-er
But for all those detection skills
And period life-or-death thrills
You aren’t even the best Witcher this summer
Rated TV-14,95 Minutes
Director: James Hawes
Writer: Neil McKay
Genre: *Not* Sherlock Holmes
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: BBCphiles
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Sherlock Holmes
