Lovejoy

I saw Lovejoy here and there when it was first on. I enjoyed it then and wanted to see more. I am enjoying this run through. I think I liked the first season best when the stories were smaller and they focused more on the world of antiques: identifying or faking. Later seasons that brought in international stories such as Venice, Russian etc I didn't enjoy as much: some of them turned into thriller type stories but had to be brought down to the lighthearted Lovejoy universe in the end which was jarring. And at least a couple in the fourth season, for example the billiard table one in particular or maybe the flag one, I found put on far too much an added spectacle somehow that wasn't as enjoyable. Another thing with the early seasons that I liked was the run ins with other antique dealers, as small time adversaries. These fit the scale of light hearted Lovejoy universe at its best.

I saw an interview with the actor that played Tinker. He commented on why Phyllis Logan left: they had all got tired of how in later seasons everything was written to make Lovejoy ALWAYS successful (unlike how the show started) . He always got the antiques right. He always came out on top. He always got the girls. That was insightful for me as to why I found the later seasons more boring. While they added seemingly more exciting international or complex plots, the overall effect was more boring. That's a lesson for any writer I would say.

I also liked the 80s firmly in the first season: not only the popular music but also the ambient music and sound effects. Then we had 90s fashion with the high waisted light coloured jeans cinched with wide belts...yuck! And shoulder pads for everyone. And the suits! Ha ha.

The "ethnic" episodes were cringy. And the casual sexism was there complete with calling the new character auctioneer as having ice in her veins for behaving like a professional - her behavior no different from other male characters on the show. But the male professional characters don't get labels that allude to being frigid. Both of these aspects fit the time frame being filmed though.

The new characters in season 5 were good and they gave the series a real boost. ( ...but not the stupid South Carolina episode which I guess was tables turned on American portrayal of England).

Season 6 starts with the unfortunate theme again of "Lovejoy is always right". The show was better when it didn't set him up to be the victim rather than the victim of his own choices and not always coming up on top. Season 6 gave us token episodes to focus on Tinker or Charlotte or Beth but they were really about Lovejoy being right. Season 6 showed the series was wrung out in general.

Props to not having a "happy" ending to the series though. They left it open to return to. And I think I read recently that they are thinking of filming more (not a reboot)..how??? And as usual...why??? It was and is (despite flaws) an enjoyable program but don't people have a creative thought these days?

Overall I really enjoyed this series, critiques aside, but the first half of the series was best.

Excellent series full of humour and wit. Stories well written. Deals with the 'life and times' of an antiques dealer with a problem with commitment except to friends. Terrific supporting cast who play their roles with a joy and bring depth to their characters. Wonderfully interesting stories - I especially enjoyed seeing the 'J. Arthur Rank gong' again after an absence of many years - I hope that it has now found its way into a museum for safe keeping! I wish that a new series would be produced but, and here I compliment the BBC, the production company know when to end a series - that is, while it is still excellent!

Very few series anymore give me a warm feeling. You know, the feeling you get when you're watching a show that 'feels like home'. Lovejoy was a show like that, it really made me feel comfortable.

Unfortunately, I don't think there will be shows like Lovejoy anymore. There are few newer series that have come close. One of them is Frasier, although they don't make it anymore either. Maybe I should just watch the older series over and over again, shows like Jeeves and Wooster, The Prisoner, Red Dwarf, etc.

I have very fond memories of this lovely, gentle, fun but exciting series. It was perfect Sunday evening viewing in my house, something all the family could watch. There was the occasional coarse word or double entendre, but that was alright because my parents thought we didn't understand!

It bore little resemblance, however, to the books on which it was based. The Lovejoy series, by author Jonathan Gash, portray a much darker, nastier world, with an appropriatley seedier Lovejoy. The TV series was the sanitised version, but no worse for that. I would, however, encourage any real fans of the series to also read the books, and see the dark side of the antiques world.

When I sat first sat down for a rerun of Lovejoy after nearly eight years of last seeing its final episode, I was prepared for some nostalgia. However, the nostalgia turned out to be not just mine, but an integral part of the show. This is not necessary something you would associate with Jonathan Gash's novels about the shady exploits of the no-less shady antique dealer Lovejoy. The first series was a bit closer to the spirit of the novels, as some of the scripts were adaptations, but the results were still somewhat uneven, jumpy pieces of television drama. It was only after the show was revived five years later that it broke loose from the original guidelines, and by the third series it had developed a more polished and delightful identity that is as much its own as Gash's creation. And this identity is all about fantasy and nostalgia.

Just look at the characters: There's Dudley Sutton's Tinker Dill, the tipsy but lovable olde-world gentleman with his perennial beret, tweed suit, campy army reminiscences, and a ready selection of antique trivia, poetry quotes and the admonishment "Visigoths!" for every occasion (this character particularly was softened from the cynical lush portrayed in the first series). And Chris Jury's Eric Catchpole, the leather-jacketed, heavy-metal-gobbling working-class youth and butt of jokes, ever aspirant but almost never bright or classy enough to strike out on his own. His somewhat neglected replacement from the fifth series on, Diane Parish's lively Beth Taylor, seemed to pose problems for the writers, perhaps because it's okay to take the mickey out of a young white man but less okay to take it out of a younger black woman.

Then there's Phyllis Logan's Lady Jane Felsham, the white, far-from-brittle English rose, who doubled as the unreachable object of Lovejoy's romantic longing and as a "nice aristo" with cash and class to support his operations - much to the chagrin of her too-stuffy-by-half husband. Caroline Langrishe's Charlotte Cavendish, who replaced her in the fifth series, may have been airbrushed as a more independent career woman, but ultimately she too was designed as a beauty with a posh accent and suspectibility to roguish charm.

And finally Ian McShane's Lovejoy himself, scampering along as if his jeans were too tight, spinning endless yarns to get him out of a tight spot (and often in them, as well), or taking a double-take glance at something precious - either antique or female - among the junk. As one guest character points out, he is an eternal boy, never "Mister Lovejoy", always unattached, always living basically from hand to mouth. So quite different from the Lovejoy of Gash's novels: the cynical, sexist, womanising, manipulative little schemer whom we should still like, because he supposedly does it all with oh such charm and is occasionally even capable of such great displays of basic human decency as putting people above things. And despite the occasional corpse and threat of bodily harm, the adventures of Lovejoy and his entourage in the series are really boyish romps in search of hidden treasures and a bit of budding romance, providing ample opportunity for excitement, witty banter, humorous escapades and lectures in art history - both real and invented. As if to confirm the juvenility of it all, three of the six series featured Malcolm Tierney's delightfully slimy rival dealer Charlie Gimbert as a bullyboy to be dodged and sent up.

But there's more to it, namely Lovejoy's love for antique for its beauty and preciousness - which doesn't stop him from making profit with it. The highly romanticised view of all that's old and hand-crafted with skill and love is a good excuse to hide from the anxiety about the new. This is why the series has dated little over the years: apart from a stray blast of instantly dateable pop music or fashion, almost all of it takes place in the affected timelessness of dusty antique shops, stately country homes or picturesque small towns where the newest thing in sight is Lady Jane's Range Rover. Of course Range Rover, because this is also about saving British heritage - whether it be medals, paintings or the right people - and pulling a fast one on those who see it as nothing more than a business opportunity or an obstacle to progress. Those who are helped are the little people, loveable eccentrics or down-on-their-luck gentry who still harbour the old skills and crafts or are bit useless but decent folks who deserve a helping hand. And those who get shafted are scheming dealers, greedy real-estate developers, yuppie upstarts or brash Yanks and ockerish Aussies with more money than manners - all those Thatcher's disciples clamouring for ruthless efficiency and frightful modernity.

In short, this combination of British archetypes, ironically tinged nostalgia about the old world and jolly adventuring makes for a perfect British fantasy world, the kind that, to outsiders like myself, is probably more real than the real Britain. Like Lovejoy's loaned Volkswagen, Miriam, in series three, it may be a bit rundown, and quite a bit inefficient, but it's got history and character - and it's all we can afford. It's a world where quick wit, a dash of style and knowledge of the past and the crafts of old can still win over ruthless economic realities, tasteless pomp and all the newfangled technology. It's an enticing vision. It's almost complete and utter tosh.

And it works brilliantly. Apart from a slight drop of quality during the final series, the show maintained a high standard of stories, dialogue and acting that kept me watching long after a mere nostalgia trip would have lost its potency. In fact, it's disturbing to see how different this series is from much of today's programming. Few subsequent shows have tried such an almost naïvely waggish approach and fewer still have made it work without coming across as cynical or calculating. Or perhaps I'm just getting old...