I just bet myself eleven thousand dollars that the screenplay of Prime Suspect 7, the first half of which I watched tonight, and which was brilliant and breathtaking in every possible way except in its actual subtextual message about women and work (which was Kinder, Kirche, Küche: 'children, church, cakes', or its colloquial English equivalent, 'barefoot and pregnant'), was written by a man.
And sure enough, his name's Frank. I win. Just as well. Most of that money belongs to the ATO.
More on this when the red haze has faded a bit.