Dᴇᴀᴛʜ in Paradise; Bad Tidings; Inside No 9: The Party’s Over
“It would still be watchable with a potato in the lead role, but Gilet is a gifted actor who often stands out in supporting performances”
Dᴇᴀᴛʜ in Paradise, BBC1
“The plot, involving the writer of a 1980s Christmas pop hit (Steven Hartley) being murdered, was even more convoluted than usual and there was a shocking underuse of the excellent Jim Howick. But I liked that the episode satirised the series’ own Poirot-like endings, in which all the suspects gather for the denouement. Wilson asked why he couldn’t just write up the notes like any other police force. “Let’s just say it’s a matter of tradition,” Commander Patterson replied, and he might as well have done a sideways look to camera. He’s right, though. It’s a crucial part of the medicine. Everything is cleared up, the culprit admits it and then it all ends up in the bar with beers.”
Carol Midgley, The Times
“[Don] Gilet is a welcome shot in the arm for Dᴇᴀᴛʜ in Paradise, which had become tired during the Ralf Little years. He is equally adept at the serious and the comic, but does notably less mugging than some of his predecessors. The comedy in this episode was mostly left to the supporting cast, including the wonderfully droll Commissioner Patterson (Don Warrington) and Officer Dwayne Myers (Danny John-Jules). Both carry the show with such ease after all these years that it would still be watchable with a potato in the lead role, but Gilet is a gifted actor who often stands out in supporting performances, as a hitman in Shetland or as the duplicitous fiancé in Doctor Who special The Runaway Bride, and now has the opportunity to lead a series.”
Anita Singh, Telegraph
“Any gripes about the quality of this episode are easily over-ridden by a terrific turn from Jim Howick (aka Pat, the scoutmaster with an arrow through his neck, from Ghosts). He made a marvellous suspect, even attempting to stuff a handgun into the back of his belt. After two attempts, it ended up in his underpants.”
Christopher Stevens, Daily Mail
“Bad Tidings is stretched a bit thin – it is an hour’s worth of material at best spread over 90 minutes. It’s also underworked, especially when compared with the absolute treats we have had over the past couple of years, such as The Heist Before Christmas (with Timothy Spall and James Nesbitt as good and bad Santas respectively) and Anil Gupta and Richard Pinto’s Christmas Carole (a reworking of the Dickens tale, starring Suranne Jones as a modern-day corporate Scrooge plus Morecambe and Wise impersonators Jonty Stephens and Ian Ashpitel as the ghosts of Christmas past). But Bad Tidings has its moments. Stacey’s maternal advice to her teenage daughter – “Ashleigh! You can’t avoid police attention AND be an influencer”. The quintessential Mack spin on “I fit alarms, I don’t take down criminals. What you’ve done there is confuse me with a Swat team”. And the heart-to-heart between Neil and Scott that adds depth to his life as a man living with a disability is neatly and movingly done.”
Lucy Mangan, The Guardian
“Bad Tidings was precisely the kind of undemanding, two glasses of sherry and a second slice of cake television that bobbles along nicely on a Christmas afternoon but would probably rankle in the cold light of January. Mack and McCausland joshed along perfectly well but it was atop a script that attempted very little and so gorged on low-hanging fruit.”
Benji Wilson, Telegraph
“There is a lot of detail. We meet the designer of those horror-homage posters. We meet the composer of the sting which begins each episode, and discover that what he originally made was rejected at the last moment, so he knocked this one out in just over a minute, an hour before it was due. We meet the producer, director, costume designer. It is a peek at how a TV show is made, which, when each episode is as innovative as these are, is much more interesting than you might expect. Seeing how they filmed Mulberry Close, where the only footage the viewer sees is that captured on a doorbell camera, is fascinating.”
Rebecca Nicholson, The Guardian