Moonflower Murders is BBC One’s latest offering in the cosy crime genre. A sequel to Magpie Murders (which is itself based on the books by Anthony Horowitz), this fabulously multi-layered story takes all the conventions of the genre and twists them in ways that makes every cliché feel fresh again.
Leading the charge is Lesley Manville as the gently acerbic Susan Ryeland. Susan lost all her possessions in the devastating fire at the end of Magpie Murders and has now moved to Crete to open a hotel with her longterm boyfriend Andreas (Alexandros Logothetis).
But of course, the past doesn’t stay buried and soon enough a desperate couple are knocking on the front door asking for help finding their daughter. She’s gone missing, and the only clue as to her whereabouts is the detective novel Atticus Pünd Takes The Case, by Susan’s old client Alan Conway (a sour-faced Conleth Hill).
With Conway dead, it’s left to Susan to crack the case. Soon, a multi-stranded mystery is unfolding, both in the present-day and in the 1950s-flavoured world of Susan’s imagination, where Atticus Pund goes about solving the case in the novel – and pops up occasionally in the real world to offer her advice.
Manville is, of course, marvelous as Susan. She is witty, self-contained and utterly believable in her weariness as somebody’s whose fresh start isn’t as fresh (or as exciting) as she thought it was going to be.
Her relationship with Pund (who exists entirely in her head) is also one of the series’ highlights. Do her long conversations about detective work with him make sense? Absolutely not, but damn if they aren’t fun to watch.
She’s surrounded by an equally strong cast of supporting characters, most of whom appear in both timelines. There’s Daniel Mays, doing a characteristically excellent job as a police officer; Tim McMullan as the gentle Pünd, and even a cameo from Mark Gatiss as an irate hotel guest.
There’s also a cracking plot. As somebody who started his career writing for Midsomer Murders, there is something delightfully Midsomer about Horowitz’s Moonflower Murders (which indeed, he helped adapt for screen).
Perhaps it’s to do with the gently historical setting; perhaps it’s the over-the-top way each murder is discovered. Think: a scream, then disrupting a wedding with a cry of “he’s dead!”
Or perhaps it’s the mystery itself, which seems to delight in keeping people guessing for as long as possible. We have people going missing and/ or dying; we have dozens of potential suspects and two different stories to manage.
As the series progresses, the past and present (or at least, the past as imagined by Susan) begin to intertwine and mirror each other in strange ways – especially given that many of the actors appear in both timelines.
It’s custom-built to encourage people to guess who really dunnit, while also distracting us with red herrings and a litany of ulterior motives. As far as tea-time telly goes, this ticks all the boxes and then some: wholesome, funny and above all satisfying.
Streaming on BBC One and iPlayer from November 16
