Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (Third Season)

More fabulous clothes and hats. More fabulous old cars, lovely Melbourne mansions. More ruby-red lipstick and the good old gold-plated .38 with ivory grips and the stiletto in the garter. In short, more of all the things that made the original two seasons of Phryne Fisher stories so entertaining. Whodunit is really beside the point in a show like this. The plots are as unlikely as any English drawing room mystery, with clews turning up at all the right points and being correctly interpreted by M. Poirot or Lord Peter or Miss Fisher, a moment of danger here and there, a moment of discovery, and the unmasking of the dastardly. But who cares? Here it is perpetually 1929, a year before the crash, and the world is her oyster. I’m happy to enjoy it with her.