Honeysuckle Weeks is back! The return of a Dads’ Favourite

I remember a discussion at the BBC many years ago when someone important asked why we didn’t have a crime drama as popular as Foyle’s War. There was much scratching of bonces, but no convincing answers: I seem to remember one a drama exec telling us it had been offered to the BBC initially, but was turned down because it was “typically ITV” - whatever that meant (I’ve never seen a programme that more obviously belonged on the BBC). 

As this was hardly my field, I kept my mouth shut, but you didn’t need to be a genius to figure out why Foyle’s War was such a hit - just vaguely normal.

Nostalgia for a time when the people of these islands were at their best and when crimes stood out as aberrant events, rather than the norm, played an important role. 

Then there was that excellent actor Michael Kitchen’s rumpled integrity. 

But more importantly, much more importantly, there was Honeysuckle Weeks in a uniform.

The casting of these two actors in their respective roles was so perfect that ITV has had to bring the programme back following a lunatic decision to cancel it in 2007. What were they thinking of? (“Not much” is generally the answer to that question when it comes to ITV.)

Michael Kitchen is an excellent actor and he has the sort of diffident but determined English persona which appeals to women, and other chaps rather admire him. 

As for Honeysuckle, she is the latest in a long line of English actresses and TV personalities I would classify as “Dads’ Favourites” – in other words, she melts the hearts of middle class men of a certain age. (I was about to say Englishmen, but I’m not English, and the Mayor of New York, Michael Bloomberg, is apparently utterly smitten by Ms. Weeks.) Her appeal has little to do with overt sexuality – she is tall, skinny and flat-chested, none of which particularly float my boat – but as DCS Foyle’s driver, Sam, she comes across as lovely and sensible and brave and… oh, well, I’d better stop there.

My criteria for the accolade, “Dad’s Favourite”, are entirely subjective, but here goes:

- They have to talk proper: in other words, one can think of them as “gels”.  The voice must not be too high-pitched or gruff – and never raucous. 

- They can, of course, be sexy, but they must not be overtly sexual – their appearance should not result in forearm pumping accompanied by “Phwoar!” noises.

- They must be non-threatening, but not in the least subservient, and certainly not soft to the point of wetness: they possess an inner steeliness and you know they’d come up trumps in a crisis.

- They can be beautiful or pretty – but, more importantly, they must be graceful, in all senses of the word.

- They must have a sense of perspective, which is just another way of saying they must have a sense of humour.

- They must not be the kind of manipulative women who annoy other women.

- They are cool – but not frigid: they are emotional, but reserved when it comes to expressing their emotions.

- They can be admired by men without girl-friends or wives getting upset: they sort of know what we mean.

- They can occasionally be earthy, but they must be utterly bereft of vulgarity.

Put those all together and I reckon you have a platonic ideal of English femininity. (Someone very close to me happens to tick every box - but I’m in danger of sounding uxorious.) English roses? I suppose so, although they don’t actually have to be English to qualify.

My own list of favourites includes Deborah Kerr, Wendy Hiller, Diana Rigg, Jenny Agutter, Felicity Kendall, Angharad Rees and Joanna Lumley.

There are obviously many other candidates. Keira Knightley could turn into a Dads’ Favourite. Keeley Hawkes could also get there, thanks to Ashes to Ashes, but we’ll have to wait and see. I think Carey Mulligan, who recently won a BAFTA for An Education,  almost undoubtedly will. 

However, many contenders fall by the wayside: Kate Winslett’s status was revoked for eternity following two awards acceptances speeches last year which made us go weak at the knees for all the wrong reasons. Fiona Bruce, she of the permanently arched eyebrow and bedroom eyes, is corkingly attractive but just too overtly sexual to fit the bill and the accent’s too regional. Helen Mirren is also too obviously sexy – and gives embarrassing interviews.  Liz Hurley almost made it, but a complete absence of acting talent and a propensity for showing too much flesh have earned her an ASBO. Anna Ford was in there for a bit, but turned out to be a bit of a harpie (as Martin Amis and Christopher Hitchens recently discovered).

I wonder what a list of Mum’ Favourites would look like. Apart from every Englishman who has ever played Mr. D’Arcy, who else would be on it? Sean Connery? Daniel Craig? Arthur Mullard? What is the male equivalent of an English rose? And do other countries have actresses (or TV presenters or newsreaders) who fulfill the same function?

I shall ponder these questions tonight during the interminable advertising breaks which will disfigure Foyle’s War. Normally I’d record it on TiVo and watch it later in order to whizz through the commercials - anything to avoid the CoCompare opera singer - but I’ll have to use to the “mute” button instead... because I just can’t wait!