Theatrical Fellow: Jago raises a toast to the Red Tavern, which for all it’s tawdry atmosphere (and as much as Jago tries to pretend otherwise) has turned out to be a successful venue for them to conduct their investigations from. A more than passable HQ when there is a flap on. He calls him and Litefoot a crime fighting partnership akin to Holmes and Watson. He always has had delusions of grandeur. In the theatrical trade where he makes his living the more monikers, the better. A consultant to Her Majesty’s Constabulary! When you give a loud hailer and ask him to threaten criminal minds, he seizes the opportunity to put on a good performance. He’s not an expert in celestial spheroids.
Polite Professor: Given their standing in society you could well imagine Litefoot looking down on a tramp like Patsy but being Litefoot he naturally does nothing of the sort, treating her with the utmost respect and dignity. He hates to ask somebody to speak ill of the dead…but that isn’t going to stop him trying. Litefoot alighted to Jacob’s Island once upon a time and found it rabbit warren of waterways, as alien as other worlds he has visited.
Patsy: ‘What you got under that sheet? A stiff?’ Patsy Potter the Princess of Patter? It’s nice to broaden the range of the series every once and a while and Patsy makes a pleasing contrast to the morally upright Ellie and constabulary presence of Quick. She’s a ghoulish character, as explicitly drawn here as she was in Talons of Weng-Chiang. She trawls along the river like a spook, stealing what she can, eyes and ears open, with contacts amongst the lowest of society. Patsy doesn’t understand why Jago needs so many names when she gets by in life perfectly well with one. She keeps herself in such style mud larking along the Thames. She’s proud of her profession. Patsy is drawn to the macabre and can more than cope with a bit of gore, she actively seeks it out. I’m guessing all sorts washes in on the Thames. Patsy talks longingly about the days when she was pretty and beautiful. When faced with a man with extensive burns to his face she admits she wouldn’t want to wake up next to that in the morning! Just because she is a mudlark that doesn’t mean she hasn’t got standards.
Sparkling Dialogue: ‘I don’t know why Conan Doyle doesn’t let them nip down the boozer every once and a while!’
‘Not Percy Puddlwhack, purveyor of Puddlewhack pork pies? The princeliest pies and the primest pork, that’s the Puddlewhack promise!’
Great Ideas: ‘The Terror of the Thames’ is perhaps the title they could have gone for had they not wanted to advertise the presence of that glorious old soak Patsy. It sounds like some deliciously lurid old penny dreadful . Or ‘The Thames Titan.’ A piscine pariah of prodigious proportions is terrorising the river dwellers of London. Litefoot does point out that fishermen, men who spend most of their time alone with their imaginations, are hardly the most reliable of reporters. A dead fish holding a pocket watch? My reaction mirrored Litefoot and Quick’s.
Standout Scene: ‘It’s enough to make a pig puke!’ The best moments came when Patsy blundered into a scene with no decorum and Litefoot and Jago (Jago, can you imagine?) had to cover up her faux pas!
Result: The title couldn’t be more accurate as two becomes three for one entertaining instalment. You find these episodes in most procedural or investigative dramas where somebody outside of the professional establishment joins the team for a story and offers a fresh perspective on things. In Jago & Litefoot it was never going to be a regular person from the street but instead goes for the most ghastly and colourful option; the spittle flying mudlark Patsy who featured memorably in Talons. She’s an unforgettable presence, drawn to the nastier side of life, unafraid to say what she is think and holding on tight to her dignity despite her circumstances. Jago & Litefoot never once talk down to her, which I found highly refreshing because it would have been easy to have one or the other resist her assistance. This genuinely plays out like an episode of CSI with much fruitier dialogue and a more elaborate setting, with a thorough and detailed investigation and the backstory of the non-regular playing an important part in the narrative. I’m not sure this is a route the series should go down indefinitely but as an intriguing one-off (and one where the supernatural elements were kept to an absolute minimum until the climax) it was a lot of fun to listen to. This one is practically sold on the chemistry of the actors and Flaminia Cinque brings something lovely and protective out of Benjamin and Baxter and delivers a pleasingly uncouth character in her own right. I could do with a story with a really emotional, considerate script like those from the early days of the series because all three of series eight have been meat and potatoes Jago & Litefoot, rather than anything extraordinary. However, if the main range was as appealing as this when it was in meat and potatoes mode we’d be in wonderful shape. This range is never less than agreeable, and that sums up Jago & Litefoot & Patsy perfectly: 6/10
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