Last night’s Maigret (ITV) was a two-hour film adaptation of Georges Simenon’s Maigret Sets a Trap, starring Rowan Atkinson as the eponymous French analyst. I gotta let you know, I am not in the slightest degree beyond any doubt pour quoi.
I was not certain, at the outset, why the team included did one of the Simenon books that was secured amid the Michael Gambon years (his Maigret ran for two arrangement in the early 90s, covering 12 books and leaving 63 others and 28 short stories untouched). At that point I wasn’t certain about Rowan Atkinson, who failed increasingly in favor of “blankly dour, perhaps discouraged” than “measured, ruminative and, you know, Maigret-ish” as time went on. And then I wasn’t certain about the amount of time was going on. Occasions unraveled so gradually via a totally leaden script with so many redundancies in it that I thought my watch had halted.