We're now into the fourth season of Murdoch Mysteries, and I'm sorry that will be our last season for a while, unless we move to Costa Rica, Papua New Guinea, or some other place in DVD Region Code Four. (I've been an anti-fan of region codes since 2006, when we discovered we couldn't watch our Japanese copy of Swing Girls.)
My new respect for Murdoch Mysteries may have something to do with my disappointment on Except the Dying, the first book of the series on which the TV show is based. Now that I know I like the show's characters and approach better than the book's, I'm happier with it. But it's also true that Season Four toned down the love affair, and though the 21st century social attitudes are still there, so far they haven't been as in-your-face. Most of all, either it has taken a less-serious turn, or I have finally recognized that it's not intended to be an accurate portrayal of late nineteenth century Toronto—or anyplace else. In its use of of modern technology it is more like the old TV show The Wild, Wild West, or maybe A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, though it's been a long time since I've seen the one or read the other, so my memory may not be quite accurate.
In any case, I'm finding easier to take the show for what it is, and enjoy it. Especially the way it laughs at its own anticipate-the-future tricks. While Murdoch invents gadgets to help catch criminals, George Crabtree—still my favorite character by far—is always seeing a different side. Murdoch builds a complicated house model to help him picture the movements of the suspects, complete with conservatory, library, hall, potential weapons, and a token for each person. All he sees is the crime, but Crabtree recognizes the potential for a great new board game.
