I am not ashamed to admit it. I am a lazy lover. Just letting things wash over me is my default approach. Does this mean that I miss out on full enjoyment? I’m beginning to think it might.

Woah! Lazy lover? Television viewer. I am a lazy television viewer!
#FreudianSlip

Let’s start again. Start at the very beginning. A very good place to start. Which is what I did recently with the ‘Morse’ prequel.

Two days after all was sadly but gloriously over in the final episode of the final series I watched the 2012 pilot again. Holy Oxford bags! Writer Russell Lewis hit the ground sprinting! 'Endeavour' is a triumph from start to finish.

That viewing laziness? Yes, I tend to grab the basics and secure some names, faces and a few facts before pretending that I have a brain as infuriatingly brilliant as E. Morse and try to work out who did or didn’t dunnit. All the while glossing over most of the clever inferences and incidences which course through every episode.

Elements of familiarity brought about by my repeat viewing gave me enough comfort to be able to soak in more of the truly delightful embroidery* which Russell Lewis weaves* into his scripts.
*Pah. That paradox stays!

Extra magic happens when the cast interpret his words, take them from the page and fully invest their acting skills to burnish them until they shine.

Colin Dexter, the creator of Morse, was keenly involved in the production and physically appears, Hitchcock-like, in many episodes. In any case his presence is felt throughout. After all, Endeavour is his baby - fledgling Morse, at any rate. I can’t imagine him being anything other than delighted by the love and attention given to his ideas and the marvellous ability of Russell Lewis to take on his mantle of making things desperately cryptic but ultimately crackable.

Yes, I did allow myself a brief session of Googling and became a little more informed about some of the hidden delights on offer. They are many and various. Often esoteric. I’ll only link to this reaction to the third series but there are countless more reveals available.

Having ITVxed pilot and series 1 and 2 I have seen Endeavour predict the filling of Fred Thursday’s sandwiches with infallible precision and test new bed springs with a consenting partner. I know the reasons why John Thaw walked with a limp in real life as well as in ‘Morse’. Blenheim Vale residential boys’ home has also revealed its ugliness and chill which will continue to haunt future stories. To my slight shame, it finally clicked that the two ‘matey’ characters called Strange in ‘Morse’ and ‘Endeavour’ are both Jims and are, in fact, the same person. See. I told you I am a lazy viewer.

There is a cut-off point for many - me included - which is designed to prevent over-analysis interfering so much that it actually spoils such things as a television drama, a piece of music or a work of art. A triple threat on that count from ‘Endeavour’ as it incorporates all three of those elements. But I am most likely speaking to many nerds who watch, digest and then dissect each second of an episode. I use ‘nerd’ with respect and affection. I rise unashamedly to nerdy heights with enough of my interests to regard it as a compliment. If you are a geek, you are also lovely.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to delve into this large slice of engaging television with a clear head and all brain cells sparking. Unless you have already done so. In which case I am obviously speaking to the converted.

My senses are now finely tuned to be more alert to ‘what lies beneath’ as I run through all the repeats. I choose to leave you with my favourite early moment from the pilot.

Russell Lewis elevates a first meeting by giving two fine actors a few words of almost throwaway exchange. Words which combine the worlds of fiction and reality to give Abigail Thaw a poignant opportunity to acknowledge her father’s initial standout performance as Inspector Morse in 1987.