Oh, the joy! The sheer, unadulterated delight! News is fluttering through the sleepy lanes of Midsomer like an escaped sheep. And what news it is! Our dear, beloved DCI Barnaby, the original and, dare I say it, the best Barnaby, is coming back. Yes, you read that right. John Nettles is returning to grace our screens once more in the hallowed, and often blood-soaked, county of Midsomer.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking. "But we have a perfectly good Barnaby already! Neil Dudgeon is doing a smashing job!" And you're not wrong. He really is. He’s got that affable charm and a knack for stumbling upon gruesome murders in the most idyllic settings. But let's be honest, for those of us who grew up with the original, the one with the tweed jackets and the slightly weary, yet ever-so-wise, gaze, this is like finding a long-lost favourite jumper. It just feels right.
There's something about John Nettles' Barnaby that was just… Midsomer. He embodied the quiet resilience of a man who’d seen it all. The way he’d ponder a clue, stroking his chin, with a cup of tea practically glued to his hand. He was the comforting constant in a world where vicars were poisoned and village fetes turned into bloodbaths. He was the steady hand that guided us through the labyrinthine plots, always delivering justice with a gentle, yet firm, sigh.
Remember those early episodes? The sheer absurdity of it all! A murder involving a rare breed of sheepdog? A death during a cheese-rolling competition? John Nettles' Barnaby navigated these delightful disasters with a stoicism that was both hilarious and reassuring. He never seemed fazed, even when faced with a garden gnome used as a murder weapon. He'd just… investigate. With a cup of tea.
And let’s not forget the inimitable Joyce Barnaby. Played by the wonderful Jane Wymark, she was the perfect foil to Barnaby’s investigative prowess. Her well-meaning, yet often hilariously off-target, observations provided much-needed comic relief. You could almost hear her calling out, "Tom, dear, do you think it was the gardener again?" Oh, how I’ve missed those domestic interludes amidst the carnage.
Of course, Neil Dudgeon's Barnaby has his own charm. He’s brought a new energy, a perhaps slightly more modern take on detective work. He’s good! He’s really good. He’s solved his fair share of baffling murders, and I’ve enjoyed watching him do it. But… and it’s a big, fat, Midsomer-sized “but”… there’s a certain nostalgia factor at play here.
Think about it. When you hear that iconic theme tune, the one that instantly transports you to a land of picturesque villages and questionable motives, who do you really picture? For many of us, it’s John Nettles. He’s practically synonymous with the show. He’s the original flavour, the classic recipe. And sometimes, you just crave that familiar taste.
It’s like your favourite childhood sweet. You might try all the new, fancy flavours that come out, but nothing quite beats that original, comforting sweetness. John Nettles' Barnaby was that sweet. He was the gentle giant of Midsomer, the man who could unravel the most convoluted of murder plots while simultaneously making you feel like you could solve a crime if only you had a decent cup of tea and a quiet afternoon.
And let’s be honest, the sheer brilliance of Midsomer Murders lies in its ability to be both utterly baffling and completely charming. It’s a delicate balance, and I’d argue that John Nettles perfected it. He made the murder and mayhem somehow feel… cozy. It’s a peculiar Midsomer magic, isn't it?
So, while I will undoubtedly tune in with great interest to see what new mysteries unfold under Neil Dudgeon's watch, the news of John Nettles' return has sent a little shiver of excitement down my spine. It’s a chance to revisit those comforting, perplexing, and always entertaining days. It’s a chance to have our cake and eat it too – a new generation of Midsomer, with a dash of the old, familiar, utterly brilliant Barnaby.
I, for one, am overjoyed. I’ll be there, with my own metaphorical cup of tea, ready to be whisked back into the eccentric, and often deadly, embrace of Midsomer. Welcome back, Mr. Barnaby. It’s good to have you home. The villages, and their inhabitants, might be a little more peaceful knowing you’re back on the case. Though, knowing Midsomer, that’s probably wishful thinking!
