Foyle’s War

 

When speaking on what types of television drama’s one likes it is impossible to be exhaustive. Unless one is in the habit of only watching one or two types of shows. Even then it is hard to take someone at their word. I know people who profess to only watch sports. Then they are caught out referring to “loving” X (insert whatever tv show, sitcom or drama).

Honestly, it is difficult to pin down what one likes: Everyone has eclectic tastes, after all.

I’ve mentioned that I’ve watched a lot of SF television in my time. Less now than then. I like a lot of things. Historical drama. Murder mysteries. Documentaries. I’ve watched a lot of British dramas, too, owing to what airs on TVO and PBS.

It comes as no surprise, then, that I liked Foyle’s War. For those unfamiliar with it, it follows the investigations of DCI Christopher Foyle during the Second World War (and beyond). It ticked a lot of boxes for me. It was a “cozy” crime drama, much like Midsomer Murders, and Inspector Morse, except in this case, it’s historical and not contemporary. Thus, not only is there a crime to solve (sometimes two), its aim was to educate its viewers on what life was like while Great Briton was under siege by Nazi Germany. It explored, not only life under rationing, but also instances of war profiteering, black-marketing, Nazi collaborators, conscientious objectors, bathtub gin, and a whole host of anything else one might encounter while the war raged, including being bombed out in an air raid. For a while it divided its attention with Foyle’s son, a pilot enduring the Battle of Britain, and his PTSD; later with the American “occupation,” racism, and war-brides; and how aligned (r not) “Allied” goals were with Soviet Russia’s.

There was a lot going on in this series. Perhaps that was why I liked it. It reasoned that people have always been the same, regardless what might be raging around them: greed, loves, marital difficulties, infidelities, political duplicity, cover-ups, whatever. It mattered not that they all need pull together; some people will invariably pull for their own aims and ends.

The lead characters were Detective Chief Inspector Foyle (obviously), quiet, methodical, sagacious, scrupulously honest. He is invariably viewed by anyone who doesn’t know him as a provincial flatfoot, who could not possibly have a first-rate, analytical mind. Cozy crime dramas would be lacking without the somewhat hapless assistant, in this case Detective Sergeant, Paul Milner. His story arc is different from Foyle’s: where Foyle is a widower and a father, Milner’s arc is about his marital woes and success, and ambition. Lastly, we have Foyle’s driver, Samantha Stewart. She’s young, naïve, somewhat excitable. She’s our view into the feminine, and single, perspective of the war.

There are other recurring characters that flow in and out of the overall narrative: Foyle’s son, police brass, family members, and a spy or too later on. I will not dwell on them; suffice it to say that each are there to explore aspects of the war, as they arise.

I cannot praise this series too much. Characters, to my mind, are realistic; so too are their arcs. The stories are neither overly preachy (they are that, though: the point of the series is historical social commentary), nor sensationalist. And they are quintessentially British, insofar as the British have an insatiable love of murder mysteries: Poirot, Marple, Midsomer, Father Brown, Sister Boniface, Grantchester, Death in Paradise…. Need I go on?

This one is different, though. This one immerses us in the depth of the War, and shows us that not everyone who served during that perilous time was in uniform.