When this dull hour finally finished, my wife knew exactly what the problem was. The counterfeiters, she said, didn’t even have the decency to wear turtlenecks.
For longtime readers, that’s a callback to an old gag of mine I’ve deployed about a bunch of seventies American shows – The Six Million Dollar Man being the biggest target because it ran so long – that should have been about evil supercomputers and android duplicates every week, but went with far more mundane stories most of the time. This one begins with two American playboys in the south of Spain shooting each other over a $100,000 payoff. How this ends up in Department S’s hands I can’t imagine, but conveniently the cash turns out to be the payoff for a counterfeit operation that Interpol’s already working on.
Anyway, the script is by Philip Broadley again, and it’s as routine and ordinary as his previous two, with the added insult of being really boring. George Pastell and Isla Blair can’t save it, and neither can John Louis Mansi’s flatly unbelievable fake drunk routine.
Image credit: ITC Entertainment Blog