As a rule, I hardly ever watch television. The reason I give others is that, being a writer, I don’t want my writing to fall into canned dialogue or warmed-over plotting. While there is truth in that statement, the reality is that I wasn’t watch cable enough to justify the high price I was paying for it, and almost nothing on the networks interests me. So when there is something on television that interests me, I catch up with it when it comes to DVD. One of the great recent discoveries for me in this area has been British television, from the very funny Fawlty Towers series to the four-part miniseries Gormenghast, and now I’ve finally been able to view the legendary miniseries The Singing Detective, which in my opinion deserves every accolade it's gotten, and more besides.

The main character is a writer of detective novels, one Philip Marlow (played by Michael Gambon), who shares his name, give or take an E, with the hero of many of Raymond Chandler’s books. This Marlow has written four books, “three of which are out of print,” and now he is in the hospital, suffering from acute psoriasis and terrible arthritis. The psoriasis has progressed to the point where his entire body is covered in skin that looks like nothing so much as a glazed doughnut that has sat out too long. His arthritis is no better- he can’t turn his head to either side, he can’t stand, and he can’t pick up a pen to write.

Marlow’s body has failed him- a psychologist compares it to a cave into which he’s been forced to retreat. But his mind is still active. As he lies in his hospital bed, a detective story springs to life in his mind, which also summons up his own memories from childhood. Because he can’t channel his brain activity into physical forward motion, those around Marlow believe that he’s gone crazy- the irony is that, if he was working on a book, they’d say he was inspired.

The Singing Detective was directed by Jon Amiel (who went on to do films like Entrapment and The Core), but the dominant voice in the telling of the story is screenwriter Dennis Potter. Potter himself suffered from the diseases which afflict his hero, and in an interview Michael Gambon recalled the difficulties Potter had with trying to put pen to paper. Potter was also very taken with the popular music and films of his childhood, which explains his title- the detective hearkens back to classic noir, and the songs he sings are old standards like “The Very Thought of You” and, of course, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”

Potter employs a complex structure which vacillates between Marlow’s hospital experiences, the unfolding of the detective story, various childhood memories, his nightmares, and later on a paranoid fantasy of his wife (Janet Suzman) swindling him out of an old screenplay of his. As the story progresses, the various strands begin to play off each other, and we see similarities. Marlow’s father is seen singing some of the same songs as the detective. Marlow’s mother commits suicide by jumping in a river, while in the story a dead body is found in the river. By the climactic scenes, the various stories have bled together, and characters from Marlow’s book have found their way into his life- or is it all a nightmare?

Another way The Singing Detective invites comparisons between its different storylines is by casting actors in multiple roles. Patrick Malahide plays not only the man who hires the detective, but also Marlow’s wife’s lover, imagined or otherwise. Alison Steadman portrays Marlow’s mother and a Russian spy. Joanne Whalley (pre-Val Kilmer) can be seen as both a night club singer and the nurse who applies the medication to Marlow’s skin, sometimes with embarrassing results for Marlow. And Michael Gambon, who plays Marlow, is also the hero of his own story.

Gambon’s performance is central to the greatness of The Singing Detective. The makeup department gets the credit for his scaly appearance, but it’s because of Gambon that we believe Marlow’s pain. Every movement for him becomes an exercise in determination, even something as basic to him as lighting a cigarette. The wonder of the performance is that Gambon never angles for audience sympathy. He swears and yells at his wife and catches doctors off guard with his biting tongue, yet we feel for Marlow because Gambon so powerfully and eloquently captures his suffering, both physical and (especially) psychological.

At Sundance 2003, Keith Gordon’s American film remake of The Singing Detective premiered to a tepid reception. While this may be indicative of the new film’s level of quality, it also speaks to the magnificence of the original. The new film stars Robert Downey, Jr. as Marlow, and while Downey is a fine actor, Michael Gambon owns this role- Downey can only hope to rent for a while. I haven’t seen the film myself, so I’m only guessing, but I get the feeling that while the new version will be forgotten in a couple of years, the original miniseries will endure for years to come as one of the towering achievements of the medium.

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD