MISS FISHER'S MURDER MYSTERIES: Complete Blu-ray Collection (Every Cloud/All 3 Media/Film Victoria, 2012-2020)

A wildly popular, Aussie-bred whodunit that acquired international fame, before inexplicably slipping away at the height of its appeal, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-15), co-created by Deb Cox and Fiona Eagger, and directed/written by a small army, lurking behind the scenes (the biggest mainstay, author of the Miss Fisher books, Kerry Greenwood, who wrote/and or contributed to all 34 episodes of the series; Cox, who gave her all, writing 12 more, Tony Tilse – who directed 7, and, writers, John Banas, Tony Cavanagh, and, Ysabelle Dean – who contributed 8 episodes apiece), gave rise to the flippant, flashy and thoroughly frank, Phryne Fisher (played with immeasurable sass and charm by Essie Davis). A galivanting glam gal/P.I., the ab-fab Fisher could solve any crime and seduce almost any man…the only one she ever really wanted, Det. Inspector, ‘Jack’ Robinson (Nathan Page, exceptional as the strong and stoic type, ready to give love a second chance). The series is set in the roaring 20’s, a great period for sin in soft focus, with Phryne not above a few extracurricular indulgences with some very athletic young men, mostly to get at the heart of the crime du jour, befriending a lesbian Dr. Elizabeth Macmillan (a.k.a. Dr. Mac, as realized by Tammy Macintosh) with the subtlest inferences they too probably had a little fun on the side at some point, and, in one episode, ‘Murder Most Scandalous’, crashing a brothel and performing a nude fan dance. No doubt about it. Our Phryne knows her own mind, proving it thoroughly by leaving dear ole Jack high and dry at the end to pilot a biplane with her devious dad, Baron Fisher (Pip Miller) back to England, thus leaving the whole burgeoning Fisher/Robinson affair on the back burner. Aside: as this finale seems more of a hook than a slam-bang finish, I believe the plan at the time was to carry on for a 4^th season. Alas, that ambition was never to be realized, but rather ridiculously summarized, five-years too late, in the incongruously slapped together, big-budget movie, Miss Fisher & The Crypt of Tears (2020 – more on this later).

The creation of the strong-minded, willful and perhaps, shamelessly promiscuous female heroine has been tried before – many times, mostly without, or with limited success. I suspect it has something to do with our built-in/pre-programmed inability to accept women adopting what is ‘otherwise’ considered ‘masculine’ traits and behaviors, living life on her own terms and without a man’s influence. Indeed, Phryne Fisher is the exception that proves this rule. She drinks, smokes, parties all night, sleeps around, and, kicks the baddies where it counts, leaving the male-structured hierarchy of her times scratching their heads…or parts located just south of their equator. You go, girl! To offset, or rather, partially ‘sanitize’ her gutsy girlishness, Phryne has a pair of ever-devoted cohorts, cabbies, Cec (Anthony J. Sharpe) and Bert (Travis McMahon), and, her highly moral and religious counterpart, Dorothy ‘Dot’ Williams (Ashleigh Cummings), who pines for the touch of Inspector Jack’s constable and right-hand, Hugh Collins (Hugo Johnstone-Burt). She also has a rather moral-minded Aunt Prudence (Miriam Margolyes) who neither frowns nor liberally accepts her niece’s proclivity for exercising a good time. It all makes for an engaging entourage, fraught with elements of danger and sexy good fun, and, a lot of expertly played/superbly written, and, slicky packaged entertainment with a capital ‘E’. Throughout the series, we really get to know these characters and become invested in their own origin stories, as well as their future forecasts for happiness in their respective lives.

At the outset, head writer and producer, Deb Cox and her partner-in-crime, Fiona Eagger were searching for a crime novel they could adapt to television; a surefire humdinger pitched to the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC). As Cox mused, “It takes so long to raise the finance and script and produce a television series, so you need to feel it's worthwhile—both financially and philosophically. It was hard to find a reason to bring stories about psychotic killers and serial murderers to the screen.” Eventually, the pair found their muse in Kerry Greenwood's Phryne Fisher novels, whose fan base spanned the gamut from prepubescent readers, to those well into their dotage. The reason is simple enough. Phryne Fisher was a feminist in a time struggling to come to terms with what was fast then being described as ‘the new woman’. Her financial independence, matched only by her forthright resolve to live as she pleases – and convention be damned – coupled with her ambitions to enter into a man’s profession and do it more competently than her competition, gives Phryne an edge, though ironically, never in an unladylike way. Herein, it helped immensely that Miss Fisher never quite took men in general, or her relations with them, very seriously. To her, love is a game and she played it with a genuine investment of her mind, body and soul. And she did it all in a stunning array of vintage costumes created by Marion Boyce. If nothing else – and there is plenty ‘else’ to admire here – the series is a cavalcade of fashion to fill the eye with some gorgeous, eye-popping colors.

Boyce had 8 weeks to prepare for Miss Fisher’s debut episode, and roughly 16-days thereafter to complete her costuming for 2 more episodes, the resultant demands to cover backgrounds as diverse as low-brow circus folk, high-born gentleman’s clubs, bohemian hotspots and seedy harlots and dock workers, slumming it on the wharf; Boyce employing a single cutter, sewer, costume coordinator, and, a buyer, doing double duty as her art finisher. Boyce also tapped the heads of ABC’s own costume dept., Mandy Murphy and Gareth Blaha, along with a pair of milliners, to accommodate Miss Fisher’s yen for stylish chapeaus.  All told, Boyce and her tiny troop managed to pull off 120 costumes, spanning sleepwear, daywear, evening dress and formal-occasion outfits. And although Boyce and co. drew their obvious inspiration from the period in which the series is set, even occasionally to borrow wholesale some vintage pieces, blended into this ensemble of goodies, most of what Phryne and her cohorts wear in this series is, from necessity, newly designed by Boyce, with fabrics from her own collection and stores in Melbourne and Sydney.

Initially, Cox and Eagger endeavored merely to transpose Greenwood’s books to TV. However, they soon discovered this was not possible. Eager to remain faithful to Greenwood’s fan base, Cox and Eagger instead elected to take the characters as written, on a whole new and incredible journey. Engaging Greenwood for a brainstorming session, the author was later brought in to critique and approve the newly incarnated screen adventures, offering advice, tweaking narrative elements, and, when necessary, ordering rewrites to improve the material. Greenwood also wrote some of the episodes herself, and, was extremely accepting of the creative changes made to take her hardcore heroine from page to screen. Originally entitled, ‘The Phryne Fisher Murder Mystery Series’ – the name was streamlined to ‘Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries’ at the behest of ABC (co-funding the series, along with Film Victoria, Screen Australia, and, distributor, All3Media) who believed international distribution could be hindered by affiliate’s inability to pronounce ‘Phryne’ (phonetically, as ‘Fry-nee’). The first 13 episodes, shot over a 6-month period in and around Melbourne, with interiors of the Fisher household, and other key sets, built on a soundstage at Elsternwick Studios, aired in June, 2011. Rather miraculously, each episode only cost a million to produce, Eagger squeezing every contact in the biz to get a more lavishly appointed look for the franchise. “I wanted every cent on screen,” she later explained, “I wanted the steam train, I wanted the plane, I wanted the ocean liner and the Hispano-Suiza. It stretched everyone, it really made people bleed.”

Series 1’s opener, ‘Cocaine Blues’ marks Phryne’s return to Melbourne after enjoying some globe-trotting experiences abroad. Some of these are later explored in Series 1, as in Episode 7’s Murder in Montparnasse, to cover some of Phryne’s tenure in Paris. Met at the docks by Dr. Mac, the old friend’s lunch with another, Lydia Andrews (Miranda Otto), whose husband, John (Brendan Parry Kaufmann), has died under mysterious circumstances. The estate’s Catholic housemaid, Dot is arrested for the crime by Jack, but later exonerated by Phryne, catching the eye of Constable Collins as she exits jail. The real cream of the jest, however, is Phryne who, despite her outwardly devil-may-care manner, is a gal with whom no man should trifle. Although she relishes her privilege, Phryne never takes it for granted. She takes Dot on as her ward, but never considers her a ‘lesser’, despite her caste.  Arguably, Phryne’s chosen profession is a mark to avenge the evil having tainted her childhood, after her own sister, Jane was abducted and presumably murdered by Murdoch Foyle (Nicholas Bell) who is presently serving a term for another crime and has, in fact, never been charged with Jane’s killing. Oddly, after toying with a ‘big reveal’ about Jane in several episodes, this subplot is discontinued without ever entirely being resolved. Meanwhile, Jack begins to fall for Phryne, while openly resisting her more obvious charms. It’s a great way to build sexual chemistry and just the sort of tantric erotica that makes for a winning couple on TV – so right for one another it hurts, even as the principals involved are always seemingly presented to us at cross purposes.

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries was an immediate programming sensation, and, not surprising, Screen Australia and ABC, along with Every Cloud Productions, set about to rekindle the magic for a second stint of 13 intriguing crime capers. Unlike the first, this second series marked a distinct return to form, with much of the writers’ inspiration based solidly on Greenwood’s novels, Dead Man’s Chest, Unnatural Habits, and, several of her more prominent short stories. Series 2 also became more invested in the comings and goings of Dot and Hugh’s burgeoning romance, as well as Phryne’s flirtations with Jack, complicated by the reappearance of his ex-wife, Rosie Sanderson (Dee Smart) and his corrupt ex-father-in-law, George (Neil Melville) who attempts to wreck Jack’s career as Commissioner of Police after Jack is instrumental in clearing him on a murder charge. Now, there’s gratitude for you! The opening episode, ‘Murder Most Scandalous’ addresses all of this in a neatly scripted and tightly played whodunit that is arguably, the highpoint of the entire season. It also introduces us to Rosie’s fiancé, Sidney Fletcher (Daniel Frederiksen), whose dubious demeanor will later be the subject of another harrowing mystery/adventure. The biggest alteration to the show’s chemistry in Series 2 involves Jack’s acceptance of Phryne, not as a meddling amateur, but as a truly integral part of his investigations. Ironically, the most rewarding romance in Series 2 is owed Hugh and Dot, who discover and foster their mutual attraction, while conscious of the fact they come from very different worlds – her devout Catholicism at odds with his family’s stoic Protestantism. Meanwhile, cabbies, Burt and Cec provide indefatigable assistance as needed, as does Phryne’s ever-devoted man servant, Mr. Butler (Richard Bligh). And Aunt Prudence takes center stage in ‘Murder Under the Mistletoe’ – an episode that Kerry Greenwood always intended to turn into another Miss Fisher novel, but never found the time to pursue.

Series 2’s debut in 2013 was embraced as much as the initial launch of the franchise, presenting Cox and Eagger with a minor dilemma, exacerbated by the network’s shortsightedness in delaying again and again on green-lighting a third series. It seems, a network shake-up at ABC resulted in the new management reconsidering its target audience, and, expressing a desire to appeal to a ‘younger’ demographic, not certain Miss Fisher had what it takes to get the job done. Worse, financial cutbacks were hampering ABC’s ability to ‘bring back’ programming while also expanding in new directions. Eventually, ABC came around to their commitments on Phryne and friends, but only for 10 episodes. Alas, by now, the steam had somewhat been let from Cox and Eagger’s creative juices. Despite the writers’ ambitions to add a spark of magic, as well as take the characters in new directions, the absence of Hugo Johnstone-Burt (marking his American debut in the summer actioner, San Andreas, 2015), replaced for several episodes by the ineffectual introduction of Snr. Constable Neville Martin (Henry Hammersla), who clashed with Dot, the total excision of Jane (Ruby Rees) a waif, Miss Fisher spared from white slavery in Episode 2 of Series 1, and, the curious, and inexplicable lack of romantic chemistry between Phryne and Jack – kept apart in their sleuthing endeavors, but somewhat to rekindle their affections during the final two episodes, only to be unceremoniously severed when Phryne agrees to charter her father by plane back to England, left Jack and Phryne’s platonic affair du Coeur unresolved while concluding Miss Fisher’s television tenure on a genuinely perplexed downbeat. Seemingly aware of this, though unable to reunite cast and crew for another bite at the apple, the fate of Miss Fisher and friends lay dormant until 2020, and, the theatrical release of Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears, also directed by series’ alumni, Tony Tilse. The resulting spectacle, afforded a budget nearly 8 times that of a single episode, remains an abysmal farewell, grotesquely hampered Deb Cox’s inability to make contact with the show’s original magic spark.

Crypt of Tears plays like a weird feminist-driven Indiana Jones spin-off, and, a conventional whodunit, blown all out of proportion. Taking everyone out of the familiar, and much beloved vintage-20’s Melbourne surroundings, the bulk of the tale here is set in Jerusalem. Presumably, picking up where Series 3 ended, Cox's screenplay drops hints suggesting considerable time has passed. The idiotically contrived opener has Phryne liberating a Bedouin exile, Shirin Abbas (Izabella Yena) – the two escaping the law and making their way across the desert dunes on horseback, then on foot, and eventually, to leap onto the roof of a moving train – the sequence, suggestively concluding with Phryne’s death under its wheels, and a drawn-out period of mourning – not in Australia, but England; the funeral attended by a remorseful Jack who becomes bitter and aloof after Phryne’s arrival by plane on the front lawn of her family’s estate, to completely explain away the misinformation played out in the press from the previous scene. Just before this ‘return from the dead’ we glimpse Dot, Hugh, Ces, Burt and Aunt Prudence, shocked by the news of Phryne’s untimely passing, but never to be heard from again in this movie, and, otherwise, meaninglessly interjected herein. We also discover, Jack is deeply wounded as Phryne has since wed a Maharaja, we later discover, merely for altruistic purposes, to spare his kingdom an overthrow from his wicked brother. No matter, Phryne ought to have been Jack’s for the asking.

At Phryne’s wake, Shirin is reunited with her uncle, Sheikh Kahlil Abbas (Kal Naga). We are also introduced to friends of the ‘late’ Miss Fisher, Lord (Daniel Lapaine) and Lady Lofthouse (Jacqueline McKenzie). In the midst of Jack’s heartfelt eulogy, Phryne marks her triumphant return, landing her biplane on the front lawn. But now, the focus of our tale shifts entirely to Shirin and the mysterious crypt of tears. As a girl, Shirin witnessed a hellish sandstorm destroy her entire village and everyone – save her – in it. Shirin recalls a mysterious stranger, who appeared during the deluge and saved her life. Now, she has received a letter, supposedly from this man, named Wilson (Lee Mason), asking for a reunion at All Saints' Church at midnight. As the letter has been tampered with, Phryne suspects foul play afoot and elects, with Jack’s begrudging help, to go to the cathedral in Shirin’s stead.  Alas, before any clarity can be achieved from the author of this cryptic message, Wilson is murdered by an unseen assailant. As he expires, Wilson entrusts Phryne with an emerald amulet to give to Shirin. Intercepted by the police, Phryne and Jack later learn Wilson was a felon and deserter of the British army with fellow soldier, Captain Harry Templeton (Brice Bexter), already executed.

Their investigation leads to a Professor Linnaeus (John Waters), who deduces the amulet’s ancient and cursed connection to Alexander the Great. Again, an unknown assailant attempts to destroy all evidence thus far unearthed, this time by burning down Linnaeus’ shop. Miraculously, everyone survives, and Phryne, having snuck into Sheikh's bedroom, learns of an agreement between him, Lord Lofthouse and businessman, Vincent 'Monty' Montague (Ian Bliss) who is quickly murdered, presumably by the same killer dogging Phryne’s footsteps. Connecting the pieces to this thoroughly convoluted past, Phryne comes to suspect Lord Lofthouse’s younger brother, Jonathon (Rupert Penry-Jones) is somehow involved. Everyone travels to Negev in search of the crypt of tears. There, they unearth a corpse stabbed through the heart with a dagger bearing Jonathon's insignia. Jonathan reveals he was part of a trio, also to include Templeton and Wilson. They invaded Shirin’s village when she was just a girl, murdering its villagers. Jonathan accidentally shot Shirin’s mother. This has tortured his mind ever since. Now, believing the gems to be cursed, he has come to return the emerald amulet to the tomb. Phryne deduces the real murderer is someone protecting Jonathon – his ‘real father’ – Crippins (John Stanton), the butler.  Consumed with his own greed, Crippins emerges from the shadows, attempting to steal the gem. Jonathan, however, holds Crippins at gunpoint, ordering the others to escape as the tomb’s walls disintegrate all around them. As Phryne, Jack and Shirin emerge from the tomb, they hear gunshots and witness the porthole to this past buried forever beneath the sands.

Crypt of Tears is a thoroughly misguided conclusion to the Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries TV franchise, compounded by the even more crudely assembled, Ms. Fisher's Modern Murder Mysteries (2018-19) – set in the 1960’s, and charting the exploits of Phryne’s niece, Peregrine (Geraldine Hakewill), who inherited her aunt's home and – wait for it – has also become a private detective. Not to be confused with the original franchise, and certainly never to rise to its artistic heights, Ms. Fisher’s Modern Murder Mysteries is a horrendous homage at best. No one can top Essie Davis’ unflappable flapper, pearl-handled revolver in hand, sleuthing and slumming her way through 1920’s Ballarat with her killer bob and seductive hemlines, shimmying up a ladder or down a ship’s flagpole, as propriety and the case at hand demands.  Phryne Fisher is not altogether a nice person, especially in her relationship with Jack, which makes their doomed romantic dance all the more fascinating to watch. Indeed, she is occasionally downright callous in her disregard of his genuine affections for her – nowhere more so, than in Crypt of Tears. Yet, Essie Davis’ ability to ease the character away from these seemingly unforgivable moments proves a winner. While the original franchise toyed with raunch, it never overplayed this hand, and, with Davis as the lead, the character evolves into a more forthright crusader for justice, than just another headstrong and demonstrative tart. The supporting cast is superb, especially Nathan Page’s cagey detective, who plays love right down the middle and never actually gets his heart trounced upon by Phryne, despite wearing it, mostly, on his sleeve. Hugo Johnstone-Martin and Ashleigh Cummings offer valiant second-string support with a handful of episodes more concentrated on their characters’ development – both, as individuals, and, as a couple on the cusp of a platonic, though heartfelt romance.

Acorn Media has gathered together all 3 series, and, the Crypt of Tears movie for a fashionably stated box set, celebrating Miss Fisher and her cohorts in style. Image quality throughout is superb. Cinematographer, Roger Lanser, who lensed the entire franchise, plying us with his plushily photographed visuals, emerges justly triumphant herein. The series was shot using Sony CineAlta HD cameras. Inexplicably, Series 1 & 2 are mastered in 1080i, when 1080p was so easily achievable, resulting in minor video noise and slight combing. Colors are bold and vibrant throughout the entire franchise and the movie. The image switches to 1080p for its final season and the movie, and, is immaculate with nothing to complain about. Contrast is exceptional throughout, and blacks are deep and fully saturated without any crush. The movie’s aspect ratio differs slightly from the 1.85:1 of the TV show, with minor black borders on the top and bottom of the screen. The audio is 2.0 DTS for everything. Odd, the movie should not have received a theatrical 5.1 instead. On Series 1, we get some scant extras, barely totaling a half-hour to whet our appetites about cast and crew. On Series 2, we get nearly 40 mins. more of the same, and, on Series 3, in addition to more ‘making of’ junkets, totaling just under 40 mins. there is a little squib where Mr. Butler teaches us all how to mix drinks. The Crypt of Tears contains almost an hour of bonus content. But actually, it is not altogether satisfying, with cast and crew offering only the most superficial reflections on what the franchise has meant to them, and Nathan Page, remaining conspicuously silent for much of the Q&A. Bottom line: Phryne Fisher’s outings as Australia’s super sleuth and sexpot are not to be missed. This Blu-ray box set gathers together everything we are likely ever to get, or get to know, about the creation of this great mystery series. Enjoy – and just in time for Christmas!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

Series 1 – 5

Series 2 – 5+

Series 3 – 3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

Series 1 & 2 – 4.5

Series 3/movie – 5+

Extras – 3.5