The Case of the Gilded Fly
by Edmund Crispin (Victor Gollancz, 1944); audiobook read by Paul Panting (HarperCollins, 2017)
Crispin’s quasi-humorous style (satirically intended but sordidly directed) comes across merely as tiresome. The mystery’s ‘ingenious’ solution proves elusive mostly due to being ludicrously improbable and thoroughly reliant on coincidences. Gervase Fen, though a striking protagonist, doesn’t appear for the first quarter.
Death at the Bar
by Ngaio Marsh (Collins, 1940); audiobook read by Nadia May (Blackstone Audio, 1976)
Marsh withholds her protagonist from the early pages in favour of a lengthy set-up, which is reiterated at the inquest and then rehashed a second time when Alleyn, whose personality remains by far the novel’s chief appeal, is finally permitted to investigate.
The Mystery of Banshee Towers
by Enid Blyton (Methuen, 1961)
The Five Find-Outers’ swansong comes after a four-year break and proves sadly anticlimactic. Banshee Towers is a breezy read but Fatty is a shadow of his former self and the mystery itself is lamentable. (In fact, the villainy makes no sense whatsoever!)
A Damsel in Distress
by P G Wodehouse (Herbert Jenkins, 1919); audiobook read by Frederick Davidson (Blackstone Audio, 1993)
For readers without a Blandings Castle novel to hand, this early Wodehouse comedy will oblige most admirably as a surrogate. While the plot involves misunderstandings of romantic entanglement, these serve merely to backdrop the page-by-page brush swirl of Wodehouse’s exquisitely trenchant prose.
The Mystery of the Strange Messages
by Enid Blyton (Methuen, 1957)
A return to form, despite some glaring continuity issues. There’s a freshness to the storytelling (less happenstance and more from Goon’s perspective) and Blyton structures the plot more tightly around the mystery and its investigation. One of the better Five Find-Outers books.
K-9 and Company: A Girl’s Best Friend
by Terence Dudley; dir. John Black (BBC, 1981)
A bizarrely misjudged attempt at a Doctor Who spin-off. Elisabeth Sladen and Ian Sears do well but the opening credits scream allegiance to Metal Mickey and this synth-schlock carries over into the incidental music, flambéing all menace from the Devil’s End plot.
Doctor Who: Galaxy Four
by William Emms; dir. Derek Martinus (BBC, 1965/2021)
The animation is more rudimentary than that of the Troughton releases. Vicki (Maureen O’Brien) is done a particular disservice outside of the surviving footage. Nonetheless, the story is watchable and the colour version in particular features splendid landscapes and memorable character designs.
The Mystery of the Missing Man
by Enid Blyton (Methuen, 1956)
The arrival of Eunice (plus dieting!) deflates Fatty of his pomposity and self-assuredness. The plot is more original than those of the preceding mysteries; at the same time, the other Find-Outers are near absent and the ending comes as a damp squib.
Penelope’s Pendant
by Douglas Hill; ill. Annabel Spenceley (Macmillan, 1990)
A tale of malfunctioning magic and unexpected consequences, given real narrative impetus by the escalating threat of violence. Hill comes obliquely at the underlying moral (consider possible outcomes) while doling out some much-needed, cathartic comeuppance to Penelope’s tormentors. A short, exciting read.
Doctor Who: Last Man Running
by Chris Boucher (BBC, 1998)
While Boucher’s characterisation of Leela is superb, the non-regulars need actors to give them substance and the Doctor is diminished through having his inner thoughts revealed. The world-building outstrips the story’s needs, leaving the underlying idea more conceptually effective than narratively satisfying.