1 July 2020

Jonathan Creek: Daemons' Roost (2016)

Jonathan Creek: Daemons' Roost (2016)
Dir. Sandy Johnson | 1 episode, approx 89 minutes.

The overly dramatic opening of Daemons' Roost is a loving nod to the classic British horror films made by Hammer Studios in the 50s, 60s, and 70s.

It seems odd in some ways, but also carries through into the main story; e.g. the taxi driver who's unwilling to drive up to the large house, like a movie coachman who's afraid to take travellers to the castle's gates.

When the "...tale of terror" ends the modem day mystery takes over, and for a time the story is significantly better than anything in series five.

Having not spoken to her stepfather (Ken Bones) in fifteen years, at his behest Alison (Georgie Lord) returns to the family home to finally discover what caused the deaths of her mother and sisters. But things go awry and Jonathan's talents are needed.

Polly (Sarah Alexander) referring to her husband's lifetime of antiquities, curiosities and treasures as "junk from the windmill" reminded me how much I dislike the character. She's there for the duration and does lend a hand or two, so credit where it's due, but I still feel like she brings little of value as a foil to the mystery solver.

It's unknown at time of writing if the episode is to be the final outing for the sleuth, but there's certainly a hint of closure for Jonathan, like a line being drawn under a circle, achieved via flashback to an earlier time, pre-Polly, that has some direct relevance to the present situation.

It features Warwick Davis in a supporting role, and, perhaps best of all, the flashback has some duffel and a locked room murder - two features that I really missed in the previous series.

The storytelling deteriorates in the second half, leading to an unlikely finale that seemed to me like a desperate attempt to provide a controversial twist, and the obligatory final reveal goes on too long. It's not an episode that I'd recommend or be in any hurry to re-watch (if ever) but I'll certainly remember the bitter-sweetness of its closing shot with a certain fondness.

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