It seems very likely that since he hooked up with Sarah Alexander Jonathan Creek has been mostly exploring her vagina and its many possibilities and who would begrudge him that? Pretty much everyone I imagine. We join Mr and Mrs Creek as they enjoy the musical production The Mystery of the Yellow Room. But just what is The Pisstery of the Yellow Shower? It’s an adaptation of a popular novel locked-room novel whose circumstances are about to be shockingly acted out in the personal lives of its dramatis personae. By which I mean: some tart is going to get stabbed.
It all happens because theatre employee Angus (Ross Armstrong) is hopelessly cuntstruck by the Yellow Shower’s lead actress Juno Pirelli (Ali Bastian). Wifey boo Rachel (Alice O’Connell) is not crazy about it so to numb the pain she sticks a knife in her guts. Angus whiteknights Juno away back to their gaffe, applies bandages and brandy and the girl’s as right as rain. Juno shrugs it off. It’s just a near-fatal stabbing after all and when make-up fuckweasel Darryl (Rhydian Jones) rustles up a latex prosthetic to wear across her abdomen the show can go on. Juno is a trooper and no mistake and it’s only being pronged by a prop as she leaves the stage that sets off the bleeding again.
So when her dressing room door is kicked in Juno is found unconscious and bleeding like a stuck pig everyone is all “call for Jonathan Creek!” who has to be bodily dragged from the deepest recesses of Polly’s quim. Jonathan now has an incredible new sidekick, his mate’s thick son Ridley (Kieran Hodgson) who spends his time performing hysterically inept Sherlock scans. Ridley thinks he’s living a murder mystery. He’s actually living a tragedy. Baxter from Clownton Abbey is his mom which would explain a lot.
Everyone is all “call for Jonathan Creek!” who has to be bodily dragged from the deepest recesses of Polly’s quim.
Polly is afforded a welcome distraction from this foolery when her dad croaks. She hides it well but she nearly comes when she gets the news. Post funeral excavation opens up a bunch of deep family shit about this Septimus Noone cocksmoker – a corpse Polly’s mom was sticking it to – who wrote some post-mortem letters to fuck with Polly’s dad’s head. Mad Aunty Hazel was the earthly conduit for the letters. We’ve all got that one aunty am I right guys? Guys?
Back at the theatre of hate it turns out Darryl the fuckweasel deliberately pronged Juno because of some baffling antipathy towards her. I didn’t quite get that.
But this is good. David Renwick‘s knack for finding comedy in the macabre remains intact and Jonathan Creek remains bemused by the idiocies of everyday life and like the borderline Aspie he is only truly happy when he is solving puzzles. And when attempting to insert his head fully into Polly’s foof. Long may he find his sanctuary there.
The verdict: Aunty septic.
Marks out of 10: 7.5