Within five minutes the first episode of the eighth season, Spooks had proven that it is still one of the best dramas around. If any justification were needed for the Licence Fee then this is it. So the Daily Mail and its Army of Tutters can shut their collective face.
Each episode is an hour of exhilaration, suspense and audible gasps of ‘Ooooh!” and “No!”. Mostly in equal measure but you never know with Spooks. After all they did immerse us into the drama with the same gusto that far-right extremists immersed Lisa Faulkner’s hand and head into the deep fat fryer in only the second episode.
Which I’m sure had most people heaving, but I couldn’t stop myself from hoping that she hadn’t requested an open casket service. Nothing quite says ‘Classy Funeral’ like the smell of chip fat wafting over from the coffin. And then there’s always the possibility that an elderly guest with dwindling eyesight might mistake the coffin for the buffet table and that would be all.
In any case, I digress. Let’s face it, the chances of Spooks ever being less than brilliant is about the same as finding me in B&Q of a Saturday taking an active interest in allen keys. Yes there was a blip with Spooks Club Juniors, but if we try hard enough I’m sure we can erase that from the world. As I’m sure the actors in it would like to.
So back to the present, and last night’s episode was just on fire. To recap, Harry was kidnapped, had a faked execution, Ruth popped up for a visit from her new life in Cyprus with her husband and step-son, and she got kidnapped, and then the nice men who kidnapped her, shot her husband, and Malcolm saved the boy, and then retired. That’s about it in a nutshell. There was of course the lovely Lucas and and amazing Ros, and that annoying girl who doesn’t really do anything anymore but moan and look like a changeling.
Catch up on iPlayer here.
