Ian McMillan on why he feels like the Yorkshire Post's answer to Columbo

Hi there! Here I am, waving from the back. From the back seat of the bus, from the guard’s van of the train, from the stern of the boat as it heads out from the harbour into the choppy waters of the open sea. Well, it’s not really the stern of a boat; it’s the last page of the Yorkshire Post Magazine.
Ian McMillanIan McMillan
Ian McMillan
By Ian McMilland
Published 24th Sep 2022, 06:00 BST

And I’ll tell you what: I like it here. I’ve become a kind of Yorkshire Post Columbo. You remember Columbo, don’t you? Peter Falk’s dishevelled detective who used to be on any and every channel of our TV’s no matter what day of the week or time of night you turned them on. There he was in his mac that wouldn’t be allowed into a car boot sale, with a face that wasn’t so much lived in as repossessed by bailiffs. At least once in each episode he’d go to the door as if to go out and then turn and say to the unsuspecting suspect, ‘…and another thing’ and it would dawn on us and the hapless suspect that Columbo wasn’t as daft as his haircut.

I reckon it was Columbo who started the trend of people pausing at the door in TV dramas and films to deliver some outrageous plot twist or startling character development. Let’s face it, in real life people just walk up the door, open it, and go through it but in any screen-based drama you know that when somebody makes their way towards a door the door won’t just be a door, it’ll be an essential part of the telling of the story. The character will pause and turn at the door and deliver a Columbo-esque line that will be almost but not quite drowned out as the music swells and the adverts come on.

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So that’s what I’m thinking of this column as, in its new position, a version of The Columbo Turn, which is like The Cruyff Turn, but less balletic. Let’s face it, by the time you get to this end of the magazine you’ve learned a lot. You know more that you did when you first opened it, that’s for sure. And having gone through the TV and radio listings and marked what you want to watch and listen to, you might be forgiven for thinking you’ve more or less done. Well, I’ve got news for you: you haven’t. I’m here, turning at the door to tell you something you didn’t know. And then you’ll know it, and you’ll be glad that you do.

Of course there’s something very Yorkshire about this because we’ve all got the relative (often a man in a cap, but not exclusively) who will, just when you think the conversation has come to a natural conclusion, suddenly pipe up ‘I’ll tell thi summat else! Or its variations ‘I’ll tell thi summat else and all!’ and ‘I’ll tell thi summat nar that tha didn’t know afoor! Well, think of that man, without the cap. Or, to be more precise just so that you get an accurate mental picture, think of me as that man without the cap but with a version of Columbo’s defeated raincoat.

So welcome to the back page; the page of wisdom, the page of nuance, the page of unexpected revelations, the page that makes you gasp ‘Well I never.’

Unless you’re one of those people who start at the back of course, in which case, welcome to the first page. Think of me less as Columbo and more as a butler letting the guests in. Anyway, welcome!

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