Paul Temple and the Introduction Mystery

Of the twenty eight Paul Temple radio serials that were made between 1938 and 1968 only eleven still exist, of which two are versions of “Paul Temple and the Gilbert Case” from 1954 and 1959. Having heard nine serials (including the 1954 version of the Gilbert Case) I’ve noticed certain elements that crop up time and time again. It would be unfair to call writer Francis Durbridge lazy as he wrote the serials, at the request of the listening public around the world, for thirty years. It’s hardly surprising that he reused ideas from time to time. So it is with a spirit of adoring mischief rather than any malice that I present Paul Temple and the Cliché Affair – a serial by serial guide to the surviving material which analyses them according to the cliché list below.

While Mr Durbridge may not have been lazy I certainly am. I initially considered counting the uses of “By Timothy!” or “Oh Paul!” but that would’ve been not only time consuming but dangerous as I listen to the serials while driving. Often very fast. I would’ve loved to include such pointlessly amusing trivia but sadly I cannot. I may add, later, phrase-specific information such as how many minutes into each episode “By Timothy!” is uttered for the first time or how often Steve refers to the murderous criminal organisation against which they are pitted as “a pretty tough bunch”. For now I offer you the following list of Paul Temple clichés.

Whether it is murder, abduction, smuggling or just plain naughtiness there will be someone's daughter at the heart of it. They are rarely guilty of anything more than infatuation with a wrong 'un but by Timothy! they don't half get mixed up with some pretty rough affairs.

This was an old favourite. In the days before caller ID people could only tell who they were talking to by the sound of their voice. But just because it obviously WAS Peter Coke on the other end of the sound effect didn't always mean it really was Paul Temple. What better way for the pretty tough bunch they were up against to scare Paul off than by abducting his wife?

In the days before everyone except me drove like a selfish maniac it was considered dramatic to have someone try and force you off the road. These days it is called "being in a bit of a hurry". Being an essentially visual event it required a lot of description acting on audio.

In the old days most murderers were inept people who could only mortally wound their victims rather than actually leave them stone dead. Thus the soon-to-be deceased had every opportunity to tell the detective something important. Only, by Timothy! they were seldom able to string a sentence together and made do with something apparently meaningless. Luckily they were generally talking to a clever old detective who could decode their last words.

Nothing says glamour than a visit to Europe. Preferably a cold part of Europe where everyone speaks with German accents developed years earlier by stock actors when there were lots of films made with Nazis in them.

Being leader of a pretty tough bunch isn't enough for some people. They have to adopt a rather plain pseudonym in order to terrify and baffle in equal measures.

Simon Lack seemed to be in every story - always playing a main character, always somewhat under suspicion and always present at the finale. Thankfully he wasn't always the guilty party. The IMDb tells me he played Prof. Charles Kettering in "Mind of Evil" and Zadek in "Androids of Tara" for those that like a Doctor Who connection.

People were always trying to kill our heroes but the car bomb was a particular favourite. Strangely, the devices always exploded and wrote off the car without damaging anything around them.

And you thought spam was bad - imagine getting messages luring you out to a cottage in the middle of nowhere where someone would try to murder you. You'd need more than a Norton filter to settle that little little bit of solution.

There is nothing better if you're a glamorous detective than to visit a glamorous nightclub and drink dry martinis while you search for clues. And those glamorous clubs inevitably have better names than your modern neon sweatpits.

Being very BBC, very RP and very 1950s it is invariably pronounced "see-oo-ee-side" and one commits it (or tries) rather than the less genteel "killing yourself". The usual method was plug the keyhole and fill your flat with gas. Think "Terror of the Vervoids".

Being foreign was enough to make you a suspect in those days but chuck in a a branch of fringe medicine (especially head doctors) and you were practically caught holding the knife.

I'm surprised anyone had a real job when blackmail was such an easy way to earn a living in the 1950s. Everyone had lots of money, everyone had a guilty secret, everyone was happy.

Britain only plays host to good, sensible crimes like murder and blackmail. It falls to Johnny Foreigner to commit squalid little offences like robbery and making drugs. They then ship the stuff over here where we happily buy it in the spirit of Harold Macmillan's "You've never had it so good" speech.

The title of which is repeated ad nauseum until the significance is revealed weeks later.

But a lovable rogue. Someone whose heart is in the right place even if his hands are not.

The cliffhanger was meant to hook listeners and make them sit by their wireless for a whole week waiting to know what happened next. Sometimes they were good, sometimes they were bad and sometimes they are hilarious when taken out of context. Guess which one I'm concentrating on.

Every so often during a questioning Paul will ask "do you mind if I ask you a rather personal question?" or words to that effect. The resulting inquiry is something mind-bogglingly ordinary such as "do you wear glasses?" rather than something more juicy like "Do you like the feel of lady's underwear?" or "Have you ever been aroused by an animated character?"

Female intuition - though now believed to have a basis in actual scientific fact - was a very useful device in the 1950s as it allowed women to offer vital information without actually scandalising society by being able to think like a man.

Americans equal glamour, danger and excitement. American accents instantly lend a serial a touch of international glamour, danger and excitement so every story has to have its American character. Sadly, budgets rarely stretched to genuine glamorous, dangerous or exciting Americans so they made do with plucky people doing their best. (cf. "Finish Production, Big")

Courts are notoriously unsporting places and a baddie might easily get off with a good brief and a bonkers judge. Much better to let the fellow plunge to his death as he makes one last bid for freedom. It's cheaper and less time consuming than an arrest.

Totalling up the marks - one for each of the 21 clichés - gives a score out of 21. It's obvious really.

So next time you are thinking “No one will be interested in my piece about…” just cast your mind back to this and remember that thevervoid.com his the home of “Stuff” and that’s a pretty broad canvas. If I can indulge a private enthusiasm then so can you.