In the quaint, cobblestone-lined streets of Stratford-upon-Avon – the very birthplace of the Bard himself – a storm is brewing that’s set to eclipse even the bloodiest tales from the Bard’s quill. As of September 24, 2025, the fifth season of Shakespeare & Hathaway: Private Investigators has officially burst back onto screens via UKTV’s Alibi channel, with streaming hot on its heels through Sky, Virgin Media, and NOW. Starring the incomparable Jo Joyner as the quick-witted ex-hairdresser Luella Shakespeare and Mark Benton as the grizzled, debt-ridden ex-cop Frank Hathaway, this unassuming gem has just clinched a staggering 89% audience score on Rotten Tomatoes. That’s right – it’s surged ahead of the long-reigning titan of British cozy crime, Midsomer Murders, in viewer acclaim, proving that sometimes, the underdog with a Shakespearean twist bites back hardest.
For the uninitiated, Shakespeare & Hathaway isn’t your run-of-the-mill whodunit. Launched back in 2018 on BBC One, the series masterfully blends light-hearted banter, Shakespearean Easter eggs, and razor-sharp detective work into a cocktail that’s equal parts hilarious and heart-pounding. Picture this: Frank, a once-stalwart Detective Inspector who’s now drowning in unpaid bills and bad decisions, crosses paths with Luella – a warm-hearted novice sleuth who’s just been bamboozled by an online con artist groom. Their fateful meeting? At her wedding reception, where the groom drops dead mid-toast, pinning suspicion squarely on the bride. Cleared of murder but wiser for the wear, Luella invests her recovered nest egg into Frank’s floundering agency, birthing the eponymous partnership. Throw in the perpetually exasperated assistant Sebastian Brudenell (played with spot-on comic timing by Patrick Walshe McBride), and you’ve got a trio that’s equal parts Moonlighting rom-com tension and Columbo cunning.
What elevates this series beyond the genre’s cozy confines is its unapologetic embrace of chaos – the kind that starts with a seemingly innocuous missing-persons case and spirals into a vortex of buried secrets, double-crosses, and enough red herrings to stock the Avon River. Season 5 kicks off with “Such a Mad Marriage Never Was Before,” where Frank and Lu – now estranged after a bitter fallout – are dragged back together by the case of two feuding social-media influencers whose online feud erupts into real-world mayhem. Egos clash like thunder, alliances shatter like glass, and what begins as a petty spat unravels into a labyrinth of hidden affairs, forged identities, and a murder so cleverly concealed it makes Midsomer‘s quaint village slayings look like playground scuffles. As the duo navigates this digital-age dumpster fire, viewers are treated to plot twists that hit like a sonnet’s volta: the seemingly vapid influencer harbors a grudge from a long-forgotten theater scandal, while a seemingly loyal sidekick turns out to be pulling strings from the shadows. It’s chaos incarnate, laced with Bardic wit – episode titles like “The Devil’s Dead” and “The Chameleon’s Dish” nod slyly to Hamlet and Macbeth, turning every clue into a literary riddle.
This isn’t hyperbole; the show’s meteoric rise in ratings speaks volumes. While Midsomer Murders – that evergreen staple of idyllic English hamlets turned homicide hotbeds – boasts a loyal following and solid 80%-ish scores, Shakespeare & Hathaway has fans raving about its fresh energy. Critics and audiences alike praise its “addictive” mix of comedy and crime, calling it the perfect antidote for Midsomer devotees craving more levity amid the lethality. Jo Joyner’s Luella brings a bubbly resilience that’s infectious, her wide-eyed optimism clashing delightfully with Benton’s world-weary Frank, whose gruff exterior hides a poet’s soul. Their chemistry? Electric. Remember the Season 1 finale where a poisoned actress’s death threats lead to a backstage betrayal echoing Romeo and Juliet‘s feuding families? Or Season 3’s psychic TV showdown, where “accidents” pile up faster than bad omens in Macbeth? Each installment builds on this formula, but Season 5 amps the stakes: expect familial feuds that fracture foundations, corporate conspiracies veiled as charity galas, and romantic entanglements that blur the line between ally and adversary.
Yet, beneath the frothy facade lies a sharper edge. The series doesn’t shy away from probing the underbelly of small-town life – how social media amplifies grudges into vendettas, how buried resentments fester like unhealed wounds, and how even the most picture-perfect facades hide rot. In one pulse-pounding arc, a seemingly benevolent theater troupe’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream descends into nightmare when props turn lethal, exposing embezzlement and illicit affairs that could topple local legacies. It’s these layers – the secrets that simmer until they explode – that make Shakespeare & Hathaway not just entertaining, but essential viewing. As Frank growls in classic form, “There’s more to this than meets the eye,” you’re left gasping, piecing together clues alongside the sleuths.
With 10 episodes in this bumper season, the comeback feels like a victory lap for a show that’s been quietly building an empire. Filming wrapped earlier this year amid Stratford’s blooming countryside, capturing that quintessential British charm while infusing it with high-stakes drama. Fans have flooded forums with anticipation, dubbing it “the cozy crime upgrade we’ve been begging for.” And as it streams globally via platforms like BritBox and Acorn TV, one thing’s clear: Shakespeare & Hathaway isn’t just returning – it’s conquering.
In a landscape cluttered with grim procedurals, this Bard-inspired brigade reminds us why we fell for mysteries in the first place: the thrill of the chase, the joy of the reveal, and the sheer delight of characters who feel like old friends. Will Frank and Lu mend their rift before the next body drops? Can Sebastian finally step out of the comic relief shadows? Tune in, dear reader, because in Stratford-upon-Avon, the play’s the thing – and this season, it’s a tragedy wrapped in a comedy, with twists that could rewrite the genre’s final act. The Bard would approve; the body count? Just getting started.