The Detectives

Born from a recurring sketch on Canned Carrott, this gloriously daft BBC comedy takes the police procedural and gleefully turns it inside out. What began as a short-form parody evolved into a full sitcom that retained the original’s spirit while expanding the world of its catastrophically incapable crime-fighters.

At the centre of the chaos are Detective Constables Bob Louis and David Briggs, played by Jasper Carrott and Robert Powell. The dynamic is deliciously lopsided: Briggs styles himself as the bold strategist, forever charging ahead with ill-conceived plans, while Louis affects the air of a weary realist. In practice, both are spectacularly inept. Their investigations unravel through misunderstanding, bluster and staggering bad luck—yet somehow, against all logic, they land on the right culprit.

Powell is particularly impressive, sending up the archetypal action-hero detective with immaculate poise. He plays Briggs as a man utterly convinced of his own authority, which only heightens the absurdity when events collapse around him. Carrott, meanwhile, demonstrates razor-sharp comic timing; his reaction shots and muttered asides are among the show’s greatest assets. The pair’s chemistry feels effortless, elevating even the broadest gags.

Hovering over them is Superintendent Frank Cottam, portrayed with granite-faced seriousness by George Sewell. Cottam’s thunderous disdain for his subordinates is a running delight. The BBC itself drew parallels with Special Branch—a series in which Sewell had appeared—and the joke lands because Sewell plays it so straight. Critics have also noted affectionate nods to The Sweeney, particularly in the spoof blue-tinted title sequence that cheekily echoes that era of hard-edged policing drama.

Supporting turns enrich the lunacy. Tony Selby’s Nozzer drifts into proceedings in various guises before settling behind the desk at West End Central, while Frank Windsor pops up in senior ranks, wryly recalling his tough-cop credentials from Z Cars. The guest list is equally impressive, boasting performers such as Anthony Valentine, Nigel Davenport, Herbert Lom, Jimmy Tarbuck, Rula Lenska, Gareth Hunt, Russell Hunter, Anthony Head, Jerry Hall and Geoffrey Chater. In a playful twist, some even reprise characters from other shows, blurring the boundary between spoof and straight drama.

The writing is consistently sharp—packed with verbal wit, escalating farce and clever reversals. Though the premise leans into absurdity, the scripts never feel lazy; jokes are constructed with care, and the tone remains accessible enough to qualify as genuine family entertainment.

Years later, the characters resurfaced in a one-off revival within The One Jasper Carrott, imagining the duo as hapless private investigators. Even in that later incarnation, the essence remained the same: two men disastrously out of their depth, buoyed only by blind confidence and outrageous fortune.

In the end, The Detectives succeeds because it understands exactly what it is parodying. By placing consummate performers inside a lovingly crafted spoof of Britain’s gritty cop dramas, it delivers sustained laughter without cruelty. It’s broad, yes—but also smart, affectionate and performed with absolute commitment.