The Enigma of Jack Robinson - the Man and the Mystery
(Re-blogging for those who couldn’t access the images! Apologies.
Why is that Jack Robinson is the focus of so much fanaticism? (The word “fan” etymologically being a derivative of “fanatic”). Is it his dashing good looks, his simmering sensuality, his understated but ever-present gentlemanliness; is he the thinking woman’s sex symbol - substance as well as style, smart as well as sexy? Well apart from the obvious answer - all of the above - there’s something else I believe. It’s that we know so little about him, especially compared with his partner in anti-crime, about whom we know an awful lot.
Compare the pair - what do we know of the following in relation first to Phryne, then to Jack?
immediate family - parents, siblings, uncles and aunts
upbringing - home life, environment, social milieu
current home - where it is, what it’s like
age, education, friends, social life, habits and behaviours, tastes, hobbies and interests …
With Phryne, we know much; with Jack we know a little, we know snippets. And those snippets are revealed slowly, often imperceptibly, sometimes as surprisingly to the viewer as they are to Phryne.
Not knowing and being fed morsels are inherently seductive. Because so much remains to be discovered, to be revealed, to unfold. Each can have her (let’s face it, I am talking female fanaticism here) own fantasy about the unknown and keep it for herself or reveal it to others. Not knowing provides endless speculation, invention, possibilities. Enigmas are intrinsically intriguing, mysterious, perplexing, alluring.
This is quite long so you may wish to quit now!
Despite Jack’s slow simmer, he exhibits a range of emotions very early. Often not in words, but in looks. A picture is worth a thousand words, so if you consider the portrait of Jack Robinson we see his caution, disappointment, incomprehension, angst, weariness, displeasure, compassion, pleasure, humour in his expressions more readily than in his words or actions eg
There was an interesting discussion recently about Jack’s outbursts of anger, shown rarely but surging occasionally. Is his anger an indication of something sinister lurking beneath the usually calm exterior?
My views: It would be a very sad world if anger were not present - if people could not express anger at injustice, inequity, unfairness, corruption, wrongdoing. Anger can directly impact on positive social change - if channelled appropriately. But anger and violence, anger and cruelty, anger and intimidation, anger and humiliation are uncomfortable, unacceptable, bedfellows.
Instances of Jack’s anger I’d like to consider: his anger at the continuing arguments between the rival restaurateurs at the police station, and his anger directed towards Phryne in the liberal man speech. (There’s also his anger with incompetent and/or corrupt colleagues in other episodes, but I’ll keep it to two so as not to bore everyone completely to bloggery.)
The warring factions in Murder and Mozzarella continue their arguments at the front desk at City South. Jack reacts angrily to get them to stop arguing, after repeated requests for calm. His anger has a powerful edge as he brings a book/file (?) onto the desk to quieten them. The reaction of those present to this is interesting:
Guido and Vincenzo appear annoyed at having their argument interrupted, Marianna and Phryne seem quietly impressed and it is only Hugh who appears alarmed. For all of them it is unanticipated, and judging by Hugh’s reaction, something rarely witnessed. The slow reveal continues…
Following the eruption, Jack’s voice changes dramatically in tone and he follows quietly and deliberately: “Here’s what we are going to do…”. His audience heeds his instruction.
I feel this is justified anger, not violent, aggressive or inappropriate in its direction and achieving the desired effect.
I feel quite differently about the liberal man speech. This is one of the occasions in S3 where I felt a scene was poorly scripted, poorly directed and poorly delivered. (There, I’ve said it!) I still squirm when I watch it. I realise I may now need to run away and hide but here is my take for what it’s worth.
The context here is important. The episode opens the new series. It begins with a date between Jack and Phryne. A planned, presumably Phryne-initiated, dinner invitation where Phryne sees “some magic” as a possible outcome. An entire fandom gasps for air.
But it is not to be. The reason of course, is that it is Episode 1 of a new series and we cannot possibly have the establishment of a relationship between Jack and Phryne so early on. So spanners are thrown into works, and they are large and unwieldy spanners.
Phryne cancels the date with Jack with NO EXPLANATION when her father unexpectedly arrives at her home. Why is this? Why would she not tell Jack what has eventuated - Jack with whom she has bared her soul in relation to the most distressing and intimate parts of her childhood, Jack who knows of her past, of her father’s negligence and cruelty, of her continuing anguish and guilt over her sister’s abduction and murder? This was inexplicable to me. The justification appears to be that Phryne feels so angry and annoyed with her father’s presence that she wants to keep it from everyone and deal with it expediently, and on her own. Phryne’s credo of independence trumps sense and sensibility.
(and don’t you want to just straighten that collar?)
This rather weak plot device then leads to a series of misunderstandings. Jack believes he’s been put off for a better offer, another man.This feeling is compounded by Phryne’s flirtation with the props guy at the theatre (this is how she operates, she uses her wiles to get the information she wants), then his being kept waiting for the rescheduled dinner date, surrounded by what he supposes are the trappings of the cravat-wearing, pipe-smoking, cocktail-sipping “other man”.
As he is kept waiting longer and longer, he drinks more and more; a series of cocktails and finishing off with the Baron’s knock ‘em dead brew. He is still unaware of the Baron’s presence in the house, of this being the reason the date was cancelled previously, does not know that the male objets d’art belong to her father not a lover, and has no idea why Phryne has been delayed. Two series and 26 episodes full of developing desire and frustration are building in his chest.
When Phryne eventually arrives, apologetic, Jack delivers that speech. He is drunk, angry and emotional. He has been drunk and emotional before - consider Death at the Wheel - but hasn’t, until this point, displayed his feelings in this manner. The gist of the speech is he cannot be a part of her life the way she leads it, despite his desire to do so, he cannot be one of the many who enters and leaves (as it were), he can’t share her. The delivery doesn’t have the desired effect. Either on Phryne or the viewer.
I concur with those who believe the references to René are inappropriate and insensitive as this was a man with whom she had an abusive relationship and Jack knows too that the normally bold and intrepid Phryne displayed genuine fear in his presence. Although not as strongly, I feel the references to the other men are also inappropriate. Jack and Phryne had no stated commitment to one another, her flirtations and relationships in the past can and should mean nothing to him per se - why should they? What can these men have to do with the Jack and Phryne of now or the future? Presumably it was meant to reveal the strength of their difference, the challenges to their compatibility - the free-wheeling versus the staid, the radical versus the conservative, the inconstant versus the cautious, the one who is dedicated to freedom of partners v can’t share. But in my opinion it comes across as irrational and incoherent. It is a delivery that I feel would have been better off slow, calm, deliberate, emotionally-thick certainly; but angry and insensitive didn’t work for me. This was a Jack I didn’t want to know.
Then there’s Phryne’s reaction to the speech. She has no knowledge of Jack’s confusion about her father’s presence and his interpretation of another man. She arrives on the scene prepared to be apologetic and to have an evening together and is confronted by the angry, accusing speech. She is completely taken aback. However, I have issues here too. She has brought this on by not telling Jack about her father, not explaining when she could have - either on the phone earlier, or at the crime scene later; then not notifying him about her lateness. Could she not have phoned home while waiting around for the contortionist to unravel herself, sent Mr B or Dot a message? And her question, “What men…?” Phryne is intelligent and unapologetically unattached and uncommitted, so why would she be in denial at this point? Once again, poor scripting.
Given the entire purpose of this scene was to frustrate a date between the two, I found it annoying illogical. The irony of Jack ending up in Phryne’s bed too just served to reinforce the exasperation of the development of the relationship.
Did I mention I didn’t like that scene?
Jack seems to be more comfortable with women than with men. (Hallelujah to that!) He is not without appreciation of the female form:
Just as Phryne uses her femininity and allure with men in gaining what she wants, Jack seems to as well, but not as consistently or as obviously. The following images are from his interviews in Ruddy Gore and Murder à la Mode:
Jack seems to be able to engage in interrogating females in a different manner from that he uses with males - particularly with males who reveal some intimacy with his co-detective! There are other contenders for his affections too, both serious and superficial (with the possible exception of Aunt Prudence):
In Blood and Circuses, Lizard Elsie gives us a glimpse into Jack’s early policing and of their own relationship.
ELSIE: I want some bloomin’ justice from you lot. She looks up, spies Jack entering, grins. Hello, Jackie boy.
ELSIE: Good old Jack Robinson. Nicest copper this side of the river. She turns to Hugh. I was his first arrest. Did you know that?
ELSIE: You remember, don’t you Jack?
JACK: You never let me forget, Elsie. What seems to be the problem?
This is an early indication of Jack’s relationship with someone unexpected, and part of his past - a revelation of some generosity of spirit and empathy for the disadvantaged. Elsie holds a genuine affection and on-going respect for the policeman who arrested her. In a later conversation, Jack refers to her by the diminutive, Else.
An on-going and close relationship between Jack and the beautiful, caring, Concetta comes as a bolt from the blue in Series 3. We not only learn that the relationship began as a result of an unsuccessful investigation into her previous husband’s murder, but that it has continued, with Jack visiting her father’s restaurant “many times”, so much so that he has his own table, a time when he is expected and she knows the wine he likes. They greet each with a (European-style) kiss and are comfortable with touch.
This episode reveals what has not been before, that Jack has some kind of social life outside City South and Phryne’s parlour; that he has developed a degree of familiarity with another woman prior to his divorce (presumably); that it is a relationship that is close enough for Concetta to offer her willingness to be his wife; that he has pursued the relationship while harbouring feelings for Phryne Fisher.
Granted Concetta had a calculated role in defining the shape of the episode (warring factions, Jack and Phryne seemingly pulled in the opposing directions) but it had a more strategic role in bringing Phryne’s and Jack’s feelings for one another into sharper focus. Jack admits to caring for her, as opposed to loving her (words that echo Phryne’s to Lin); Phryne is rattled by her presence.And another layer of DI Jack Robinson revealed…
Then there’s Angela Lombard - but here at least we are part of the journey and prepared! Jack uses his charm in his investigating her role in circumstances surrounding the murder and she later blatantly flirts with him, and ultimately presents him with an offer he can refuse. She also makes her intentions clear to Phryne in the wonderfully catty encounter:
ANGELA: Say, did I mention that Jack and me had a swell talk this afternoon?
ANGELA: He sure knows how to unhook a gal’s dress. Must be those strong, manly fingers of his.
PHRYNE: Well, it’s so much better when he does it with his teeth.
But possibly not a man’s man
Jack doesn’t seem to have male friends, or even colleagues. Not that of course we really know - but it’s intriguing to ponder. The only positive male alliance is with Hugh where Hugh is clearly the subordinate, the junior in an unequal partnership. Without a father, Hugh may well see Jack in a paternal role.
Jack gives him personal advice as well as professional instructions: he encourages him to ask Dot to the Policeman’s Ball and dismisses his concerns about her catholicism (and Hugh repeats Jack’s words to Dot); he warns him about the challenges involved in courting a modern woman; he advises him about references to use in proposing to Dot.
JACK: So, Collins, did you ask Miss Williams to the ball?
HUGH: I, uh I’m not sure about her, sir.
JACK: Good God, man. It’s just a dance, not a proposal of marriage.
HUGH: I-I think I think she might be a Catholic, sir.
JACK: Oh, for God’s sake. It’s not as if she were born with two heads.
HUGH: Well, that would be preferable in the eyes of my mother.
A particularly touching scene is after Hugh’s fight in the boxing match in Dead Weight. Whilst the fight is enthusiastically watched by Dot and Phryne, it is Jack who goes up to him quietly, almost unobserved, and acknowledges his success with a gesture of congratulation:
Memorandum of Understanding
Whilst they have very different lifestyle values, Jack’s moral compass and Phryne’s sense of social justice bring them remarkable close on the issues surrounding the cases they solve. Compatibility is rife. His dry wit matches hers. They appreciate each other’s investigative and cerebral talents - even if they don’t willingly admit it.
What comes between them is their diametrically opposed values when it comes to a relationship. He is a dedicated supporter of monogamy, he won’t share; she is equally committed to her credo of free choice, of “dancing to no man’s tune”. How the show can ever resolve this fundamental difference is a mystery in itself. One of them has to change - there is no compromise here, no middle ground. Either Jack has to accept a partner who will want and need an open relationship, or Phryne has to accept that a relationship with Jack means limiting her freedom. Given Phryne is the star of the show and her sense of freedom, her refusal to conform, her individuality, her rejection of social norms, define her, I cannot see the writers compromising her profile. Equally I cannot imagine Jack agreeing to a partner who would not be his alone.
What of the ambiguous ending to Series 3? Come after me, but be prepared to take on the rest of the men in the world! The enigma of Series 4!
An interesting and enduring trait of Jack’s character is his inability to read Phryne. He is confused by her mixed messages - she flirts with him and wants him, but he doesn’t understand it needs to be on her own terms. He also takes a long time to commit his feelings to their expression, long after he has realised he is in love with her. So he acts unreasonably jealously when he hasn’t declared his love for her. She is never clear about what she wants and on what terms.
This communication breakdown is convenient for the development, and equally the frustration, of the love interest subplot throughout the three series. Were they able to communicate their feelings openly the misunderstandings may not have arisen. But they don’t and misunderstandings do …
In one of the most heart-wrenching scenes, Jack watches Lin and Phryne wander off into the night, arm in arm, to supper. It is in Ruddy Gore and it is in this ep that Jack realises he’s in love with Phryne (imo) - as his aversion to operetta is overcome when Phryne plays a part in it.
But is his chagrin justified? Whilst he had intended to escort her home, his invitation was not beyond that; he is in love with her, but hasn’t declared it; he has endeavoured to keep her off the case; and ultimately refers to her in the third person when Lin arrives. He also wrongly suspects Lin’s connections with the drug trade. Jack has made some mistakes here but doesn’t yet realise them. What he does realise is that the attachment he has formed is threatening his stability.
Equally we feel for Jack as Phryne’s dalliances are divulged to him. He is rattled by Walter Hamilton’s reveal in Death Comes Knocking despite his refusal to entertain Mrs Bolkonsky’s predictions. In fact he dismisses them somewhat derisively:
MRS B: True love must never be denied, Detective Inspector.
MRS B: Inspector, believe what I say, for your own sake. The heart line never lies. You know that your greatest passion is very close at hand. Pursue it.
JACK: And believe what I say, Mrs Bolkonsky. I have no intention of pursuing my greatest passion, unless it’s these sandwiches, which are a particular favourite.
An exchange which Phryne overhears:
He continues to deny his greatest passion when in her parlour, and she attempts to unravel his feelings:
PHRYNE: I see a very careful man, who professes to be cynical in the face of mysteries he can’t explain, and claims to have no passions, in spite of a heart that runs as deep as the Pacific Ocean.
JACK: That’s strange. All I can see is another martini.
Couldn’t you just throttle him?
Now… dare I offer an opinion as to the scene at the wire fence in Death and the Maiden? I’m guessing no-one’s read this far so I can get away with my views quietly…
Both Jack and Phryne are presented as caged, fenced off from one another, divided, apart.
Jack is hurt and humiliated at Phryne’s liaison with Compton. Jack must suffer in undeclared silence. Does he have the right to feel betrayed when he hasn’t made his feelings clear?
The fact that the liaison is revealed publicly, in front of men from the airfield as well as the officers from City South engaged in a stand off at the time, must have been awkward for Phryne. Her body language certainly suggests discomfort.
But I’m not sure that it is at this moment that she regrets her behaviour and realises her love for Jack. Not that I can name a time or a place when she does this (except perhaps at the end of Unnatural).I think she feels upset at being discovered, as she didn’t wilfully intend to hurt Jack, but Compton is an attractive old friend, they shared intimacy in traumatic circumstances in the past, a bond remained. Phryne remains in character about her commitment to her freedom of choice. If it were the case that this moment presented a turning point for her, a realisation that her life would require change, that loving Jack Robinson meant rescinding some behaviours, then her behaviour with Guido in the following episode is inexplicable. She may regret the discovery, but not necessarily the act. She may regret that Jack is shattered and that this will mean she is side-lined from the case. I find huge ambiguity here in terms of the evolving narrative of the series, particularly given the circumstances that follow in the subsequent episode. We learn that Jack is seeing Concetta, Phryne continues to dance to her own tune.
What is to become of them?
That’s the one about Jack setting up a chain of hamburger restaurants, then Mac decides on a rival franchise… oops wrong plot line.
(*Hungry Jack’s is the name of the Burger King chain in Australia… just in case my pathetic attempt at wit requires clarification for those beyond our shores.)
Jack is portrayed as permanently hungry. There’s a metaphor there that Phryne references in The Green Mill ep.
JACK: And he became desperate. Desperate enough to try and sell you a plane you don’t want. Perhaps desperate enough to kill someone.
PHRYNE: Who says I don’t want that plane? Here. You take this. You have that lean and hungry look. She hands over the basket of food.
Phryne’s quote is from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, where Caesar says:
Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men and such as sleep a-nights.
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look,
He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.
Cassius’ "lean and hungry look" unsettles Caesar, who prefers the company of fat men, content with what they have, without ambition, who wouldn’t bite the hand that feeds them. Lean men always want more and are never satisfied. These men make Caesar nervous because they are likely to be scheming to overthrow him. Cassius looks like he’s been up late nursing his envy, a situation that bodes ill for the dictator. Caesar’s intuition is accurate: Cassius does spearhead the plot to assassinate him.
In these early stages of the Phryne/Jack relationship, Phryne is coming to grips with a thinking man. She has her own views on the case and Jack, as was his wont at this time, pays little creed to them. She uses food to both distract him and to get him to engage with her. Or could it be the old chestnut about the way to a man’s heart…?
Of course the hunger could be a metaphor for something else - that he is unfulfilled emotionally, an appetite not satisfied.
Hugh, Dot and Phryne are happy to invade Jack’s secret stash when he is away undercover at the radio station, and we often see Jack’s appetite being nourished in other eps. What does he eat at home? Can he cook? Does he have a housekeeper? Or is his staple Italian at Strano’s when not indulging in ham and pickle sandwiches? Snails definitely a taste he’s yet to acquire. And I’m not mentioning the gourd.
The education of Jack Robinson
He has an intriguing knowledge of the classics, can spontaneously translate complex German poetry, has the complete works of Shakespeare as a ready reference from which he can quote with ease, has extensive scientific knowledge, plays the piano and sings, cuts a fine dash on the dance floor, prefers opera to operetta and film, and has a dinner suit on hand. This has the hallmarks of a prestigious education for the late 1800s early 1900s in Victoria. Growing up in Richmond would have given him access only to the state school system, with a very limited curriculum at the time - certainly no German (some Latin possibly), no instrumental lessons, although Shakespeare and some Sciences may have been available to him. So where does his substantial knowledge come from? Is he largely self-taught? Did he have a private tutor of some kind? A benefactor? Uncle Ted? Who was his German teacher?
Jack’s war and its negative impact on his marriage are further sources of intrigue. What was his war experience beyond that of a Lance Corporal on the western front, based in northern France? What went wrong afterwards? We know he returned a different man from the one who went away. What was he like before the war? Rosie mentions in Series 2 that he has his fight back, so was he ambitious prior to the war? Were aspiration and Sanderson a combination that paved the way for both marriage and promotion?
And what of Rosie now the the fiance has been conveniently removed from the scene? Is there some nostalgia, even regret on the part of either party?
Jack cuts a fine figure on the tennis court and we learn that cadets were taught tennis at the academy. Comes in handy I imagine. We also learn that he was a champion cyclist before the war put paid to Tour de France ambitions. He rides an antique bike with some panache. He’s also useful when it comes to voice overs.
Roll on Series 4 and big screens - answer some questions or keep the intrigues alive. Interesting times ahead…
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