Wonder how many of you have heard of Detective Inspector Jules Maigret, a character created by the Belgian writer, Georges Joseph Christian Simenon - and while the writer is a subject for another discussion, this scope is really about Rowan Atkinson, aka Mr Bean.

But first, a rewind. 

Way back in 1960, the BBC made a TV series which ran for 52 episodes, based on the stories by Simenon, between 1931 to 1952. Actor Rupert Davis played the detective and ultimately became identified as Maigret, the Sean Connery to James Bond!

The episodes survived and later, in 1992, another series - this time on ITV, was made. It had a total of 2 Series, 6 episodes each. Each episode was a story by itself. Incidentally, Micheal Gambon played the Inspector.

I have not seen any of the earlier productions, and yet it was pure binging that got me to Rowan Atkinson and on to the 2-part series, 4 episodes each (telecast between 2016 and 2017), filmed in Budapest to recreate a post-War Paris. Initially, and not knowing anything about Georges Simenon or about Maigret for that matter, I took it to be a laugh-along, with Atkinson possibly doing an Inspector Clouseau! I was wrong.

This was a serious Mr Bean - in fact in all the four episodes, the only humor is the standard dry British humor which tickles your mind more than your voice. In fact, he hardly smiles. 

The crime stories, set in post-War France are old world classics, the kind of stuff we have grown up on. Edgar Allen Poe to Byomkesh Bakshi. There are murders, there are goof-ups, there are typical cop runs on one-up man ship, even betrayal - but the long episodes keep you glued to the events. And the production. 

This a different Rowan Atkinson. He is not making faces, making blunders and embarrassing everyone around - including the viewer. He is deadpan serious, carrying out his duties as a dedicated police officer committed to solve the crime. Maigret cares little about the system, which often comes in the way of his task (even ministerial high handedness). He has a dedicated team and stops at nothing, not even charging a fellow colleague with the crime. 

The post-War Paris, the people, the costumes, are all eye-openers. It was later that I read about the show being shot in Budapest, what with the Jezsuita Stairs in Budapest doubling up as stairs in Montmartre. I must confess, the filth and squalor of some of the by-lanes of Paris reminded me of the galis of North Kolkata during my childhood. I have always maintained that Kolkata is a poor man’s Paris.

Check out Maigret. Sit back, they are all 90 minutes each. You will be transported to the old world charm.