Sam Tyler’s obviously never watched any time travel movies or read any books on the issue. You never, ***ever*** go to look for your past self! It can lead to serious snafus in the space-time continuum – not to mention, it’s hackneyed.
So when a dream about his mother (paging Dr Freud) sends Sam round to where he used to live as a kid, it’s not a very good start. Even more so when he bumps into a guy roughing up another man on the street and decides to go all Supercop on him and arrests him. As it turns out, the ruffian, a man called Charlie Edwards, is what Gene Hunt calls “a necessary evil”: he’s the enforcer for local crime kingpin Stephen Warren who, in Hunt’s colourful jargon, is “bent as a fish hook, but he keeps his streets spotlessly clean.” He’s in bed with the Manchester police, so Hunt isn’t overly happy at Sam’s actions. “You don’t throw stones in my pond,” as he tells a disgruntled Sam after Edwards is let go.
When Hunt takes Sam to Warren’s local nightclub, it’s clear that there’s a case of “you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours” going on. Warren keeps the streets clean, and in return the police not only turns a blind eye to his crimes, they effectively take out his competition. It’s a neat deal for everyone involved, it would seem – except for stick-in-the-mud time traveller Sam, with whom the idea of corruption doesn’t sit well. Nor does his mother’s voice on the telly.
So back Sam goes to the street where he lived and knocks on his front door, finding not only the attractive young blonde he knows under the name “Mum” and his childhood pet, a ginger cat called Ivanhoe, but also this: the Tylers are in serious debt to Warren. Sam’s attempts to help, well meaning as they are, fail, so he decides to attack the problem at the root. He returns to Warren’s nightclub, walks straight in his office, and tells him: “I’m going to go out of my way to make life as difficult for you as possible.” War is on between Warren and Future Cop.
The next day, the plot thickens considerably as Joni, a young woman working for Warren. comes to the police station, asking to talk to Sam. Her employer’s threatened to rape and kill her, and she sees Sam as the only straight copper, the only man who isn’t on the crime lord’s payroll. The girl asks Sam to give her shelter for the night at his flat; according to her, she isn’t safe anywhere, not even in a holding cell. And Sam, being the New Man he is, acquiesces (and even treats her to Mexican food he’s prepared himself – it’s surprising that ’70s Girl doesn’t ask whether he’s a communist or gay). Um… Am I the only one who’s got all sorts of warning bells going up? Four episodes into the season, Sam has a history of getting too emotionally involved, especially when it comes to young, vulnerable women. What he hasn’t had so far, though, is a history of being drugged and waking up (after more ominous dreams) naked and handcuffed to his bed. And Joni, as expected, is gone.
After being found in that predicament, Sam’s not only the butt of everyone’s jokes – Gene informs him that the girl’s claims of Warren’s rape threat were somewhat unlikely, considering the man’s a homosexual (coming up with a whole list of colourful epithets to describe his sexual orientation that show Hunt’s impressive vocabulary, if not his sensitivity to minorities). Sam’s been had, in more than one way.
Except it’s not that simple. Joni returns to see Sam, bringing along the negatives of their nocturnal activities and burning them in front of Sam. She plans to get out of town but warns Sam not to stand up to Warren. He’s a dangerous man – as Joni finds out later that night, ending up in the canal with her throat cut. The other cops pretty much blame Sam for her death, since he “didn’t play the game”, but for once it’s not Hunt who’s leading the chorus. The Gene Genie hates himself for having played Warren’s game, and it’s taken Joni’s death to make him do something about it. Coming down hard on the enforcer Edwards, Sam and Gene get the evidence they need to put Warren behind bars. And that they do, gloriously, and for once without fisticuffs.
When Sam returns to his mother’s flat, no one’s there, but at night her voice comes from the television: “Sleep well, darling. Mum’s here and will always be here. One day you’ll wake up and I’ll still be here.”
I was surprised rewatching this episode, because I didn’t expect to get this involved. After season 2, I got somewhat tired of ***Life on Mars***, because I felt it did the same thing over and over again. (More on that when I get around to reviewing the second season.) Episode 4 is one of the strongest in the series. It’s well written and acted, it’s fun when it wants to be but the tone is assured. It juggles the ongoing storylines astutely. In comparison most of season 2 seems stuck in an endless repeat of the same scenes. If memory serves, though, the next two episodes are also among the best. Definitely tune in for my reviews of episodes 5 and 6.
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Matt K. is a survivor of academia. He's fanatical about good TV and movies. He lives in Switzerland, which means that he gets his chosen drug mostly in the form of boxed DVD sets. You can read more of his musings on TV, life, movies, books and video games at http:\\goofybeast.wordpress.com.