The Cutprice Guignol

I come from, dear reader, a crossword family.

Which is not, as you might suspect, some bizarre euphemism. But rather an admittance to the fact that if I had to put a bet on the one thing most members of my family were doing right now, it would be a crossword. My mum’s on the couch with a dog on her lap doing the Sunday Times cryptic omnibus; my grandparents are leafing through an atlas, trying to remind themselves of the name of that one island off Greece with five letters that starts with C. My brother’s scanning a crossword on to his computer so he can share it over a video call with the rest of us. I don’t know what it says about us (actually, I do), but there you have it. We’re a crossword family, and, as a result, this episode, Riddle of the Sphinx, has a special place in my heart.

The Riddle of the Sphinx follows Nina (Alexandra Roach, who recently starred in the far-better-than-it-had-any-right-to-be Nightsleeper) as she breaks into the university rooms of Nigel Squires (Pemberton), a professor and crossword creator who goes by the nickname “the Sphinx”, looking to better understand the world of cryptic crosswords – or, you know, avenge the death of her twin brother. One or the other.

Another bottle episode, like last week’s The Bill, though one that’s tonally very different, it’s a twisty-turny mystery that draws on Greek tragedy, classic literature, and good, old-fashioned pufferfish poison. It pulls on classic dramatic tropes like betrayal, lost love, and secret family, with a sprinkling of arch comedy and pretentious cryptic crosswordery to round it all off.

One of the standout aspects of this episode, to me, is how playful it is. Which might sound strange for an episode that relies so much on epic, scandalous family tragedy, but there’s no denying it. Pemberton himself created the crossword that features in this episode (which was published in the Guardian a day later, under the moniker “Sphinx”), and the story itself is borne from his love of them. It’s written all over this episode just how much Pemberton adores these puzzles, and how excited he is to share that passion with a whole new audience. And, look, as someone who grew up surrounded by a love of crosswords, whether I liked it or not, I can’t pretend I don’t love that.

It’s that playfulness that’s found in the cryptic crossword itself that serves as a perfect parallel to a mystery like this one – the way those clues play around with language, understanding, double-crossing and tripping up the puzzler until they finally reach the answer. It leaves every scene, every sentence of this episode dripping with meaning, as oblique on the surface as the Sphinx’s crossword clues, until the pieces start falling into place.

And that playfulness extends to the staging, too – this is a delightfully gothic episode, with thunder crashing as punctuation and the dusty study serving as the backdrop, the place littered with statuettes and ancient books. I love how completely Guillem Morales, returning as a director here, embraces the classic gothic thriller tropes in this story, how silly he gets with it, and how well it serves as a backdrop to this playful story.

If there’s one thing I would change, it would be the strange inclusion of a threat of sexual assault against Nina; it doesn’t actually come to anything, other than to perhaps add to the grotesquerie (ugh, sorry, I shouldn’t be bringing that up again so soon) of Pemberton making a sexual advance on his own daughter and reference some classic tropes of the literature mentioned in this episode. My feeling towards sexual assault is that, in general, if it can be cut without damaging the way the story unfolds, it probably doesn’t really need to be there. It clunks for me, the only part of the episode that does.

Still, overall, Riddle of the Sphinx is an episode that taps into something I just can’t help but respond to – the way it makes use of the cryptic crossword format marries well with Inside No. 9’s slippery storytelling devices. Fun, gothic, playful, and just a little smug, Riddle of the Sphinx extends the excellent run of season 3 so far.

If you liked this article and want to see more stuff like it, please check out the rest of my Inside No. 9 reviews. I’d also love it if you would check out my horrible short story collection, and, if you’d like to support my work, please consider supporting me on Patreon!

(header image via BBC)