My Critique of John Thaw
John Thaw’s defining strength was a formidable subtlety, a precision that underpinned both the bullish swagger of Jack Regan and the cerebral melancholy of Endeavour Morse. He treated performance as a deliberate craft, drawing on a tradition of technical control over instinctive flourish, and stood apart from contemporaries who favoured overt charisma.
However, this very restraint could render his later work austere, and his screen persona never fully escaped the shadow of those two defining detectives. For modern viewers, Thaw remains a touchstone of British acting integrity.
Early Life
John Edward Thaw was born on January 3, 1942, in the working-class district of Gorton, Manchester. His childhood was marked by instability when his mother, Dorothy, left the family when John was just seven years old.
He was raised by his father, Jack, a tool-setter and later a long-distance lorry driver, alongside his younger brother, Ray.
Education was not a straightforward path. Attending Ducie Technical High School for Boys, he left with only a single O Level to his name.
Yet, even then, a spark for performance was evident. Against the odds, and showing remarkable early determination, he successfully auditioned for the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) at sixteen.
His talent was immediately recognized at RADA, where he won the prestigious Vanbrugh Award. This formal training provided the foundation for what would become a meticulously crafted career, launching him from the gritty streets of Manchester onto the national stage.
Early Career & First Roles
Thaw’s professional journey began in the early 1960s with the classic mix of stage and screen work that builds a actor’s craft. His stage debut came in 1960 at the Liverpool Playhouse, and he soon found himself sharing the stage with the titan of British theatre, Laurence Olivier, in ‘Semi-Detached’ (1962).
On screen, he took a small but notable part in the seminal British New Wave film ‘The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner’ (1962). Television quickly became a home, with early appearances on the groundbreaking police series ‘Z-Cars’.
These formative years were an apprenticeship in versatility, preparing him for the defining roles to come.
Major Roles
John Thaw’s career is a masterclass in television acting, defined by two iconic characters who, in their own ways, reshaped the British cultural landscape. From the explosive, rule-breaking detective of the 1970s to the melancholic, intellectual inspector of the 1980s and 90s, Thaw displayed a range that was both profound and definitive.
Detective Chief Inspector Endeavour Morse – Inspector Morse (1987–2000)
To discuss British mystery television is to discuss Inspector Morse. In the role of Detective Chief Inspector Endeavour Morse, John Thaw did not merely play a character; he created a cultural institution.
Morse was a revolutionary figure in the genre: an opera-loving, classic-car-driving, real-ale-quaffing intellectual whose battlefield was the dreaming spires of Oxford, not the gritty backstreets of London.
Thaw’s portrayal was a masterpiece of subtlety and simmering emotion. He built the detective through calibrated silences, a pained, intelligent gaze, and speech that was measured yet carried immense weight.
Morse’s loneliness, his frustration with the mundane, and his deep-seated romantic idealism were never stated outright but were etched into every line on Thaw’s face and every weary inflection in his voice.
The dynamic with his earnest, down-to-earth sergeant, Lewis (Kevin Whately), became one of television’s great partnerships, a perfect foil that highlighted Morse’s brilliance and his profound isolation. Thaw made Morse’s intellect palpable and his vulnerabilities heartbreakingly real.
The series elevated the television detective from a mere solver of puzzles to a complex, tragic hero grappling with life’s deeper mysteries.
The show’s phenomenal success—its lush cinematography, baroque musical score, and intricate plots—was anchored utterly by Thaw’s commanding, nuanced performance. He made the cerebral deeply compelling.
Inspector Morse defined an era of quality television drama, and its legacy, continued through the Lewis and Endeavour series, is a testament to the enduring power of Thaw’s seminal creation. It is, without hyperbole, one of the most iconic performances in the history of the genre.
Detective Inspector Jack Regan – The Sweeney (1975–1978)
If Morse was a quiet revolution, Jack Regan was a detonation. As the hard-drinking, rule-bending Detective Inspector in the Flying Squad (nicknamed “The Sweeney” from Cockney rhyming slang, “Sweeney Todd”), Thaw unleashed a character that shattered the polite, gentlemanly image of the TV policeman.
Regan was abrasive, violent, and morally ambiguous, a product of a cynical, gritty 1970s Britain.
Thaw brought a terrifying, authentic toughness to the role. It was a performance devoid of swagger or glamour; his Regan was a working-class cop in a cheap suit, fueled by anger and a brutal sense of justice.
The famous catchphrase “Shut it!” and the show’s frenetic, documentary-style car chases and punch-ups captured the public imagination, but it was Thaw’s intense, grounded realism that gave the series its raw power.
He showed the psychological cost of the job, the weariness behind the rage. Alongside Dennis Waterman’s loyal Sergeant Carter, Thaw created a partnership built on mutual survival in a corrupt system.
The Sweeney redefined the police procedural, injecting it with a shot of adrenalized, contemporary realism that influenced countless shows that followed. Thaw’s Regan remains the archetypal “hard man” copper, a performance of such compelling force that it forever changed audience expectations.
Other Notable Work
While defined by Morse and Regan, Thaw’s versatility shone across a remarkable spectrum. He first captured attention as the principled Sergeant John Mann in the army drama Redcap (1964-66).
He displayed superb comedic timing as the exasperated father Henry Willows in the sitcom Home to Roost.
In later years, he brought his formidable presence to the courtroom as the title character in Kavanagh QC, proving his command of the legal drama. His theatrical roots remained strong, with significant stage work, and he even portrayed historical figures like Sir Francis Drake with characteristic gravity.
This breadth of work underscores that he was never a one-note actor, but a consummate professional of immense range.
Acting Style
John Thaw was the antithesis of the flashy, instinctive performer. He was a craftsman, an actor who believed in rigorous construction.
His style was defined by precision and profound quiet control. He avoided flourish, instead building characters through the immense power of subtlety—a slight shift in gaze, a measured pause, a minute change in vocal tone.
He treated performance as an intellectual exercise, focusing intently on text and intention. This method resulted in portrayals that felt deeply lived-in and authentic.
Whether it was Regan’s explosive rage or Morse’s melancholic introspection, every emotion was earned, carefully placed, and devastatingly effective. He trusted silence and stillness to speak volumes, making the audience lean in and discover the character’s inner world for themselves.
Personal Life
Thaw’s personal life was anchored by his long and happy marriage to actress Sheila Hancock, whom he wed on Christmas Eve 1973. They formed one of the most respected partnerships in British theatre and television, a union of mutual support and deep understanding.
He was a devoted father to his three daughters.
A committed socialist and lifelong Labour Party supporter, he brought a working-class sensibility to his life and work. Honored with a CBE in 1993, he battled personal demons, having been a heavy smoker and drinker before becoming teetotal in 1995.
Tragically, he was diagnosed with oesophageal cancer in June 2001. John Thaw died on February 21, 2002, leaving a void in the British acting landscape.
His memorial service at St Martin-in-the-Fields was a testament to the deep affection and towering respect he commanded.
In closing…
John Thaw was more than a superb actor; he was a defining architect of modern British television drama. Through two diametrically opposed yet equally iconic characters, he captured the changing soul of a nation across decades.
His legacy is one of unparalleled craft, emotional truth, and a rare ability to make complexity compelling. He remains the gold standard, a legendary figure whose work continues to resonate with profound intelligence and heart.