McDonald & Dodds, Season 1
(ITV, 2020)
Two feature-length murder mysteries. The Bath setting is picturesque, the crimes intriguing enough, but all the characters are over-the-top, ranging from slightly (the lesser suspects) through off-puttingly (the major suspects, Chief Superintendent and McDonald) to borderline unwatchable (Dodds). Nice concept but heavy-handed.
DC’s Legends of Tomorrow, Season 2
(The CW, 2016-2017)
Fast, frivolous and fun, if one can stomach the Legends’ constant backflipping on moral stances, and such abject stupidity as Sara not thinking to wound evil Rip and take the Spear, or twice choosing 1916 to dig about in no man’s land.
The Lesbiana’s Guide to Catholic School
by Sonora Reyes (Versify, 2022); audiobook read by Karla Serrato (HarperCollins, 2022)
The self-sabotage feels a little contrived, but in all other respects this is a tour de force. Reyes does her themes proud—found family, queer identity, racial and religious prejudice—yet does so within a wider, welcoming celebration of hope and romance.
The Brokenwood Mysteries, Series 2
(Prime, 2015)
The New Zealand dry humour and small-town setting come once again to the fore, lending their charm to these four cosy-ish murder mysteries. Immersive in the unravelling, several of the crimes/investigations do reveal killers with dubious motives. (‘Blood Pink’ proves especially egregious.)
The Chelsea Detective, Series 2
(Acorn TV, 2023)
Another four feature-length murder mysteries, intriguingly scripted without being too outlandish. Vanessa Emme hits the ground running as DS Layla Walsh. Adrian Scarborough brings a rare vulnerability to DI Max Arnold as well as coffee-deprived, the-world-is-changing irritability and an edge of steel.
Great Writers & the Cats who Owned Them
by Susannah Fullerton (Bodleian Library, 2025)
An undemanding but diverting read, affording potted biographies of famous authors through a lens of cat ownership and feline companionship. The writers in question gain respectability/kudos as a result, and we learn that many great literary works owe their existence to cats.
The Warm Hands of Ghosts
by Katherine Arden (Del Rey, 2024)
audiobook read by January LaVoy & Michael Crouch (Penguin, 2024)
Arden captures the normalised horror of the First World War, and both the overwhelming mental trauma and what must have been near-surreal fatalism of those who lived through it. Though the speculative element is neatly entwined, the story perforce remains downbeat, bemired.
Stargirl
by Jerry Spinelli (Alfred A. Knopf, 2000); audiobook read by John H. Ritter (Books on Tape, 2006)
Very MG in delivery, the titular character being painted to an extreme and the narrator balancing her out by having almost no personality (beyond a fondness for porcupine neckties, kept very much in the closet). The ending at least is somewhat unexpected.
Asterix and the White Iris
by Fabcaro; ill. Didier Conrad; trans. Adriana Hunter (Sphere, 2023)
Fabcaro’s first Asterix story offers the conceptual grounding lacking in Ferri’s work. The puns are more natural (though just as frequent!), while Impedimenta’s involvement adds a balancing pathos to the hippie-prefiguring counterculture that sweeps drolly through both Roman camp and Gaulish village.
Peaky Blinders, Series 5
by Steven Knight; dir. Anthony Byrne (BBC, 2019)
Series 5 carries an aura of unravelling but is hard to judge as its downward spiral—what shapes as a compelling pronouncement on hubris/nemesis—is carried over into Series 6. Sam Claflin brings palpable power and menace as fascist politician Oswald Mosley.