Saint Marie, a fictional Caribbean island, has changed hands many times, as the Police Commissioner tells Detective Inspector Richard Poole upon his arrival. From the French, to the Dutch, to the English, to the Dutch, to the French, and then back to the English again... but it's still mostly French. Oh, great, says Poole, with no amusement whatever, having just found that the airline has managed to lose his baggage. There's only one flight, there's only one airport - but it's happened anyway - and there's a murder to solve.
And this sets the stage. DI Poole is the quintessential starchy Brit abroad, an Englishman wearing formal suits in tropical heat and desperately in search of a simple cup of tea. He doesn't like sun, sand, or salt water. Or the French, or island food, or island time, or most of what nearly everyone else would consider paradise. Which is a problem, if you're trapped on a Caribbean island by scheming superior officers back in good old London.
DI Poole is awkward. Infuriating, even. He's breathtakingly rude - without meaning to be, or even aware of it - but still. He doesn't understand people, and people don't understand him. But he does understand murder. When it comes to solving an impossible murder, nobody does it better.
It's not really about the denouement, though. Yes, there's a rather traditional gathering of suspects in a room and explaining who, how and why, but the clever murders and equally clever detective work aren't the show's greatest strength. Where the show excels is in the interplay between the characters and their clearly drawn and very different personalities. Most of the fun is seeing how people play off each other along the way.
Ben Miller's turn as DI Poole anchors the show. He's every bit the social outcast, but there's steel under the gaffes. It makes him a man to be reckoned with, and therein lies his charisma. It's not an easy role for an actor to do. Poole could very easily have been an unsympathetic character, but Miller manages to humanise him.
It'd be easy, and a mistake, to overlook Sara Martins' turn as Camille Bowden, Poole's second in command and crime-scene partner. Everything that Poole isn't, Bowden is. It's a difficult balancing act, frequently quite bluntly done, but the show simply wouldn't work without it.
They're supported by Danny John-Jules and Gary Carr, as the seasoned but carefree Constable Dwayne, and the young and idealistic Constable Fidel. The screenwriters allow quite a bit of time for these two characters to stand up in their own ways, further rounding out the team. There's a delightfully sly Police Commissioner popping in from time to time as well.
There aren't car chases, shootouts, or sex scenes. It's not that kind of show. Instead, people have parents or babies – or, in Dwayne's case, ex-girfriends – and forget about the very expensive, very detailed sets typical of high-budget American shows. The series works with what it can get, and is all the stronger for it.
Wit, charm, and good clean fun - an absolute delight.
And this sets the stage. DI Poole is the quintessential starchy Brit abroad, an Englishman wearing formal suits in tropical heat and desperately in search of a simple cup of tea. He doesn't like sun, sand, or salt water. Or the French, or island food, or island time, or most of what nearly everyone else would consider paradise. Which is a problem, if you're trapped on a Caribbean island by scheming superior officers back in good old London.
DI Poole is awkward. Infuriating, even. He's breathtakingly rude - without meaning to be, or even aware of it - but still. He doesn't understand people, and people don't understand him. But he does understand murder. When it comes to solving an impossible murder, nobody does it better.
It's not really about the denouement, though. Yes, there's a rather traditional gathering of suspects in a room and explaining who, how and why, but the clever murders and equally clever detective work aren't the show's greatest strength. Where the show excels is in the interplay between the characters and their clearly drawn and very different personalities. Most of the fun is seeing how people play off each other along the way.
Ben Miller's turn as DI Poole anchors the show. He's every bit the social outcast, but there's steel under the gaffes. It makes him a man to be reckoned with, and therein lies his charisma. It's not an easy role for an actor to do. Poole could very easily have been an unsympathetic character, but Miller manages to humanise him.
It'd be easy, and a mistake, to overlook Sara Martins' turn as Camille Bowden, Poole's second in command and crime-scene partner. Everything that Poole isn't, Bowden is. It's a difficult balancing act, frequently quite bluntly done, but the show simply wouldn't work without it.
They're supported by Danny John-Jules and Gary Carr, as the seasoned but carefree Constable Dwayne, and the young and idealistic Constable Fidel. The screenwriters allow quite a bit of time for these two characters to stand up in their own ways, further rounding out the team. There's a delightfully sly Police Commissioner popping in from time to time as well.
There aren't car chases, shootouts, or sex scenes. It's not that kind of show. Instead, people have parents or babies – or, in Dwayne's case, ex-girfriends – and forget about the very expensive, very detailed sets typical of high-budget American shows. The series works with what it can get, and is all the stronger for it.
Wit, charm, and good clean fun - an absolute delight.