The BBC One drama series is actually filmed in Guadeloupe, a tropical insular region located in the Leeward Islands in the Caribbean. Is he just an exhibitionist and a flasher? Does he have mental health issues (he refuses psychiatric assessment)? If the answer to either is yes, then this probably should never have been made.Death in Paradise is set on the fictional island of Saint Marie, said to be in the Lesser Antilles. It's all about freedom he says, but freedom from what? From pants? And when he refuses to put it away when passing a school at coming-out time, it's hard not to lose patience and sympathy with him. What he's not very good at though is explaining why he does it. In some way it's a stirring spectacle – a naked man marching defiantly into the teeth of a blizzard and a storm of outrage, little Stephen (not so little at all actually, especially when you take the freezing conditions into account) swinging from side to side. He's making the long walk south to see his family for the first time in yonks.
I remember when he first appeared on the scene, one of my bolder colleagues tried out boots-only hiking for himself in Epping forest – for the purpose of journalism, naturally.Īnyway, here we join Stephen as he's released from prison in Edinburgh. You know the fella, Stephen Gough, former soldier, always getting arrested. The Naked Rambler (BBC1) might have been funnier, but was actually a rather sad little film. Was it actually Harry, or a stunt double? Anyway, his extra few grams causes the hammock to collapse and Humphrey to fall comedically to the ground, again. That's one hell of a leap he makes at the end there – not of the imagination this time, a proper one, from the balcony into Humphrey's (finally erected) hammock. Apart from Harry the green lizard, possibly the character with most depth here. I know it's not meant to be taken seriously, but it's really not that funny either. Gentle as the wavelets lapping the sand in front of the chief inspector's beach house. It was the same last week, and next week I'm sure, and before, with Ben Miller, pre-ice pick. Gather round, everyone, for the denouement. Investigate that, DI Goodman.)Īnd then it comes to him, in a flash. (That's the real crime here, that such wonderful music is now associated with such lameness. He trips up, and bumps into things – bumbling Britishly, accompanied by Jimmy Cliff and Toots and the Maytals. So Goodman paces up and down, worrying, about G&T, tea, hook-the-duck, and some other stuff that happened a long time ago back in Blighty that we the audience don't really know about (that's unfair, isn't it, it was the same last week). This is about hunches, puzzling over clues, probability, and a sudden moment of realisation. So there are no forensics or profiling or CCTV. This is police drama as if the past 30 years or so of police drama had never happened. But underneath, like Poole, he's a good detective – in a charming, understated, modest, British kind of way, of course. It doesn't matter though, or make much difference, because Marshall's DI Goodman is exactly the same character: a hapless comedy Brit in the tropics, falling over, wearing the wrong things, getting hot and bothered, rubbish at getting his hammock – and most probably everything else – up etc.
Miller probably wanted to rescue his career, before it was too late. Through the chest this time though it made his heart burn, not his ear. With an ice pick, like Trotsky, not so very far from here. That's right, because DI Richard Poole (Ben Miller) was killed off in the series opener last week. Detective Inspector Humphrey Goodman (Kris Marshall) arrives on the scene.
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