Charlotte Latvala: The satisfying formula of British mysteries

Now that the holidays are over and the hubbub has died down, I can get back to my life’s work.

That is, catching up on all the PBS, BBC and assorted Brit Box mysteries that I’ve missed out on or deserve a re-watch. Inspector Morse, Jimmy Perez and Adam Dalgleish are my constant companions these days. Because there’s nothing like a violent death in a windswept locale to make you feel warm and snuggly on a cold winter’s eve. And no one does it better than the Brits.

Oh sure, we Americans have contributed a host of quirky detectives to the genre: Columbo, Monk and the ever-resourceful MacGyver. But I blame my mother for my current obsession, because 9 p.m. Thursday was the sacred hour that “Mystery!” aired on PBS in northeast Ohio. My formative years were filled with Lord Peter Wimsey, Sherlock Holmes (the excellent Jeremy Brett version) and Helen Mirren’s incredible turn in “Prime Suspect."

I feel the same way about British mysteries that some of my friends do about Hallmark movies. You don’t mind that it’s a formula. And if you watch just a few, you start to get the gist.

First, start with an enviable location, such as:

A). A stylish London flat.

B). Oxford or Cambridge.

C). A quaint village in Yorkshire.

D). The rugged coastlines of the Shetland Islands.

Next, toss in a former or current occupation (because the sleuth is often a brilliant amateur) seemingly at odds with the ghastly business of solving murders. Your detective should be:

A). Independently wealthy, or from minor nobility.

B). A vicar, curate, priest or nun.

C). A writer.

D). A professor of some obscure subject.

Then, give your detective a passion or hobby unrelated to sleuthing. It spices things up, rounds out their character and provides comic relief. Your crime-solver may be into:

A). Opera.

B). Writing poetry.

C). Jazz.

D). Solving crossword puzzles.

Finally, introduce a flaw, foible or past tragedy that makes it difficult or impossible for said detective to begin or maintain normal human relationships. He or she must be:

A). A “confirmed bachelor,” ideally curmudgeonly.

B). Widowed.

C). Alcoholic.

D). Widowed and alcoholic.

And one more thing. Your detective must have a quirky/amusing sidekick to play off. Said sidekick should be the complete opposite in temperament, socioeconomic background or gender — possibly all three. They might be:

A). A gay curate who’s still in the closet because it’s the 1950s.

B). Your dead wife’s ex-husband.

C). Your official police partner, who is considerably younger (or older), more strait-laced (or rough around the edges), or (gasp) a woman.

D). A winsome dog.

And the murders? Well, they are secondary in the scheme of things. But they should be a bit creative, not too bloody, and generally happen to people we don’t care much about.

Otherwise, it would be too much like real life. And that’s not what Thursdays at 9 p.m. are all about.

Charlotte is a columnist for The Times. You can reach her at charlottelatvala@gmail.com.

This article originally appeared on Beaver County Times: Charlotte Latvala: The satisfying formula of British mysteries