My Critique of Bulman
Bulman’s defining strength is its pivot from procedural orthodoxy to character-led investigation, anchored by Don Henderson’s irascible, idiosyncratic George. The shopfront setting and partnership with Lucy McGinty yield a humane, conversational rhythm that distinguishes it from more forensic-dominated contemporaries of the mid‑1980s.
Yet that charm is shadowed by a tarter counterpoint: the series repeatedly entangles its leads with bureaucratic obfuscation and security service pragmatism, blurring lines between private conscience and institutional imperative. Compared with The Xyy Man or Strangers, the show consolidates a rarer, multi‑series evolution into spin‑off maturity.
For modern viewers, it matters as a textured portrait of mid‑80s Britain, where institutional mistrust and class unease simmer beneath everyday procedure.
Principal Characters & Performances
George Bulman
Don Henderson’s portrayal of George Bulman is the bedrock of the series. A former Detective Chief Inspector, Bulman is a man out of time, operating from a clock repair shop yet unable to fully retire his investigative instincts.
Henderson, having played the role since 1976’s The XYY Man, imbues Bulman with a world-weary gravitas and a catalogue of eccentricities. He is stubborn, intellectually restless, and morally rigid, often clashing with officialdom.
His genius lies in unorthodox methods and a deep understanding of human fallibility. Henderson’s performance avoids sentimentality, presenting a man defined by his past in the force but creatively liberated by his new, unofficial status.
This continuity across three series makes Bulman a rare, evolving protagonist in British television, with Henderson’s gruff charisma making the character’s contradictions compelling and believable.
Lucy McGinty
Siobhan Redmond’s Lucy McGinty is the essential catalyst and counterweight to Bulman. Introduced as a curious, persistent presence, she quickly evolves from an interested local to Bulman’s indispensable assistant.
Redmond brings a sharp intelligence and youthful energy that cuts through Bulman’s occasional cynicism. Lucy is the character who often propels them into cases, acting as the audience’s point of entry into Bulman’s world.
Her dynamic with Henderson is the series’ emotional core, built on mutual respect and a mentor-protégée relationship that avoids cliché. She is pragmatic, brave, and frequently the one to challenge Bulman’s assumptions.
Redmond’s performance ensures Lucy is never a mere sidekick, but a fully realised partner whose growth is central to the show’s narrative engine.
Notable Support and Guest Stars
The series benefits from a strong recurring cast that bridges Bulman’s past and present. Thorley Walters brings a patrician, weary authority to security chief William Dugdale, the official channel for cases with espionage angles.
Mark McManus, reprising his role from Strangers, is excellent as Detective Chief Superintendent Jack Lambie, Bulman’s former superior. Their interactions are charged with a history of respect and friction, pulling Bulman back into police matters.
Dennis Blanch also returns as Detective Sergeant Derek Willis, further cementing the show’s lineage. Guest casts were consistently strong, featuring notable British character actors of the period.
These figures, including John Benfield, Simon Molloy, and Jeremy Gagan in principal roles, created a believable ecosystem of official and unofficial contacts around the central duo, grounding the weekly mysteries in a credible world.
Key Episodes & Defining Stories
Winds of Change
As the series premiere, this episode is essential viewing for understanding the show’s premise and unique tone. It masterfully transitions George Bulman from police detective to private investigator, establishing his clock shop base and his reluctant return to the fray.
The guest appearances by Mark McManus as Jack Lambie and Dennis Blanch as Derek Willis are crucial, providing immediate continuity and emotional weight from the preceding series, Strangers.
Fans remember it for formally introducing the dynamic between Bulman and Siobhan Redmond’s Lucy McGinty, a partnership that defines the show. It sets the visual style and establishes the show’s clever use of Manchester locations to stand in for London.
This episode matters because it doesn’t feel like a pilot; it feels like the next chapter in an ongoing story, rewarding long-time followers while perfectly setting the stage for new viewers.
Sins of Omission
This episode is a standout for fans who appreciate the series’ forays into Cold War espionage. The plot, involving a ruthless Russian assassin and Lucy’s disappearance, raises the stakes dramatically and pushes Bulman into uneasy alliances.
Written by creator Murray Smith and directed by Roger Tucker, it showcases the show’s capacity for tighter, more international intrigue while staying true to its character-driven roots. The moral ambiguities of intelligence work are front and centre.
It’s remembered for its tense atmosphere and for focusing on a formidable female KGB operative, a nuanced antagonist for its time. The episode demonstrates that Bulman’s world could extend far beyond the shop and the police station into shadowy, dangerous realms.
It proves the series was more than a standard detective show, willing to blend genres and challenge its characters in profound ways.
One of Our Pigeons Is Missing
This episode is a quintessential example of George Bulman’s uniquely hands-on and eccentric methodology. The core plot, which sees Bulman going undercover as a tramp to investigate a case involving homing pigeons, is both inventive and grounded.
It’s a masterclass in Don Henderson’s commitment to the role, embracing physical transformation to serve the story. The location work in Manchester’s urban landscapes is used to great effect, creating a palpable sense of place.
Fans cherish it for its perfect balance of humour, pathos, and a solid crime narrative. It highlights Bulman’s resourcefulness and his willingness to immerse himself completely in a guise to uncover the truth.
The episode matters because it encapsulates the show’s charm: a clever, character-led mystery solved not by procedure, but by the protagonist’s singular, unorthodox perspective and dogged persistence.
The World of Bulman
The world of Bulman is a distinctly British landscape of transition. George Bulman operates in a space between official institutions and the private sphere, his clock repair shop on Beech Road in Manchester symbolising this liminal state.
This shop, a real location used for filming, is more than a set; it’s a character in itself—a cluttered, ticking sanctuary from which he is constantly drawn. The narrative environment expertly mixes this domestic base with the austere offices of Scotland Yard and the shadowy corridors of security service buildings.
Through contacts like William Dugdale and Jack Lambie, the show creates a believable network that pulls Bulman and Lucy into diverse cases. The production’s use of Manchester to represent London adds a layer of authentic, gritty urban texture.
This world feels lived-in and connected, a web of past professional relationships and new, unofficial inquiries that gives every case a personal and institutional dimension.
Origin Story
Bulman’s origins are deeply rooted in Granada Television’s crime drama lineage. The character first appeared in the 1976 adaptation of Kenneth Royce’s novel The XYY Man.
He was then carried over into the subsequent police drama series Strangers.
Screenwriter Murray Smith, who had worked on these earlier shows, principally created and wrote Bulman as a spin-off, focusing on the character’s life after the police force. Executive producer Richard Everitt and producers like Steve Hawes and Sita Williams oversaw its development.
Granada produced it as part of its mid-1980s drama slate for ITV. The series was thus a rare experiment: a vehicle built around a continuing character who had already evolved across two previous television incarnations, offering a unique depth from its very first episode.
Narrative Style & Tone
Bulman’s narrative style is dialogue-driven and procedural, but elevated by its focus on character. Each sixty-minute episode presents a self-contained case, blending private detective work with police and espionage themes.
The tone is grounded and realistic, consistent with other British crime dramas of its era, but is distinguished by the eccentricities of its lead. Serious crime plots are balanced with moments derived from Bulman’s personality and his evolving partnership with Lucy.
The visual style uses a mixture of studio interiors and location filming, presented in colour in the standard 4:3 aspect ratio. The storytelling prioritises investigative procedure and character interaction over action, relying on intelligence and moral complexity to drive the drama forward.
How is Bulman remembered?
Bulman is remembered as a distinctive and sophisticated entry in the canon of British crime drama. While not achieving the mass fame of some contemporaries, it has cultivated a steadfast cult following among enthusiasts of 1970s and 1980s UK television.
Retrospective coverage highlights its status as the culmination of George Bulman’s rare nine-year journey across three series. It is celebrated for Don Henderson’s definitive performance and the sharp, intelligent dynamic between Bulman and Lucy McGinty.
The series is kept alive through specialist discussion, television nostalgia sites, and home media releases from Network Distributing. Fans value its unique blend of the detective agency format with residual police and security service connections.
It is ultimately remembered as a character study of an idiosyncratic detective, a well-crafted show that offered a more continuous and evolving protagonist than was typical for its time.
In Closing
Bulman stands as a thoughtful and character-rich chapter in British television history, a show built on a compelling performance and a premise that rewarded viewers with intelligence and continuity.