COVERT AFFAIRS. USA Network. Premiered July 13, 2010. Created by Chris Ord and Matt Corman. Cast: Piper Perabo as Annie, Christopher Gorham as Auggie, Kari Matchett as Joan, Peter Gallagher as Arthur, Anne Dudek as Danielle, Sendhil Ramamurthy as Jai.

   In cable television’s version of hide and seek, cable networks take a series’ season and divide it up into two parts. Covert Affairs, the land of the pretty spies, returned November 1st for Part Two of its Second season.

   This is not Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, but more like Man from UNCLE meets Charlie’s Angels. The plots are simple, the twists predictable, the characters have detailed backstories but little personal depth, and if it wasn’t for the eye candy of the cast and locations there would be no reason to pay any attention to what is on the TV screen. But so what?

   The series never tries to be more than fantasy and escapism. Logic and believability play minor roles versus emotional melodrama and TV style action (lots of chases and property damage). This is how we dream our life as a spy, beautiful, traveling the world, beating up bad guys by day, romance by night, saving the world and looking so good doing it.

   Annie joined the CIA to escape a bad ending to a vacation love affair (apparently the CIA has assumed the role previously filled by the French Foreign Legion). She quickly moved up in the ranks because the guy she was in love with was a rogue spy wanted by the CIA and who kept dropping by to save her life. This season she is on her own, still screwing up, but with Auggie’s help, always saving the world at the end.

   Auggie works at the monitoring station in CIA’s headquarters, blind from a mission gone wrong that still haunts him (giving him a vulnerable sensitive side), capable of doing anything James Bond could including bedding any woman (Auggie’s women have a better survival rate).

   Unfortunately, episodes usually focus more on the relationship melodrama than on the action and story. Annie gets emotionally involved quickly with someone during the mission. Auggie hovers over her like a big brother. Annie’s boss, Joan deals with marital stress caused by a lack of trust between her and Arthur, her husband and CIA boss. Jai has to live in the shadow of his successful father and shady retired CIA boss. Danielle is there to dump family guilt on Annie who is busy saving the world.

   Toss in the required chases, Auggie taking off his shirt, romance for Annie or Auggie, and there is not a lot of time left for the actual mission.

   Covert Affairs is a typical USA Network series, a wannabe MTM Production of the 80s (Hill Street Blues, St. Elsewhere, Remington Steele) wanting to feature the characters at work and their personal lives. But the MTM shows focused on the premise of the show. Even in romantic mystery Remington Steele Laura’s family and Remington’s past never interrupted the mystery.

   Covert Affairs is 70s style escapism but with mundane “real life” problems shoved into every episode. Who dreams about saving the world only to be interrupted by your sister reminding you about your niece’s school art show? Putting peanut butter in my chocolate tastes great, but putting family melodrama in my fantasy ruins all the fun.

“Over Fifty? Steal.” The original Hawaii Five-O (Season 3, Episode 11, 25 November 1970) and “Odd Man In” (Season 4, Episode 14, 28 December 1971).

Jack Lord (Steve McGarrett), James MacArthur (Dan-O), Zulu (Kono), Kam Fong (Chin Ho), Hume Cronyn (as Lewis Avery Filer), Richard Denning (The Governor), Harry Endo (Che Fong), Jiro Tamiya (Goro Shibata), Lane Bradford (Moose Oakley). Writer: E. Arthur Kean. Directors: Bob Sweeney, Paul Stanley.

   Imagine an intelligent, extremely clever “gentleman thief” in the tradition of Raffles and Robin Hood.

   Now imagine this thief couldn’t care less about righting wrongs or fighting oppressive government — he just wants the money.

   Such is Lewis Avery Filer, a character who appeared in two episodes of the original Hawaii Five-O.

   In his first appearance (“Over Fifty? Steal”), Filer is an insurance investigator who has just been forcibly retired, a victim of a corporate takeover.

   Filer feels he’s been treated shabbily and sets out to exact his revenge. He initiates a series of robberies against the “new boss” that has McGarrett and Co. jumping through hoops trying to track him down.

   Unlike most of McGarrett’s foes, Filer eschews violence, using his formidable intelligence to execute his crimes with great precision. At one point, he even confronts McGarrett in the middle of a news conference! Predictably, the media glorify this new “Robin Hood,” much to Five-O’s collective chagrin.

   Eventually, Filer slips up, allowing McGarrett to capture him just at the moment of his greatest triumph.

   When he next shows up, some time in the next season (“Odd Man In”), Filer is in prison, but he’s overheard something there that prompts him to escape: A $4 million drug money deal is about to go down, and Filer wants it all.

   Filer’s target this time isn’t a legitimate corporation but “The Corporation,” Asian drug dealers, and these boys play rough.

   Even while McGarrett is in hot pursuit, with Five-O always just one step behind him, the wily Filer plays the mobsters like a violin, knowing that one slip-up would prove instantly fatal. It’s a very dangerous “game” he’s involved in, but Filer is up to the task.

   However, can Lewis Avery Filer manage to rob from the rich (the Mob) and give to the poor (Lewis Avery Filer) without getting caught by Steve McGarrett? Need you ask?

   Both episodes featured Canadian-born Hume Cronyn (1911-2003), who must have relished playing Filer, transforming into many other characters at will. Cronyn’s first major film role was also memorable, as the snoopy mystery-novel addict in Alfred Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt (1943).

   These shows featuring Lewis Avery Filer are a lot of fun, with an unaccustomed sense of humor for this series, and worth your time.

   Later on in Season 6, in an episode entitled “30,000 Rooms and I Have the Key” (26 February 1974), David Wayne played a very similar character but with a different name. Since E. Arthur Kean wrote this one too, we could conclude that it was intended as another Filer escapade — but, alas, it was not to be.

THE SENTIMENTAL AGENT. ITC Entertainment; ATV Production. September 28, 1963 through December 21, 1963. 13 episodes @60 minutes. Carlos Thompson as Carlos Varela, Burt Kwouk as Chin, Clemence Bettany as Miss Suzy Carter, John Turner as Bill Randall. Executive Producer: Leslie Harris. Producer: Harry Fine.

   It is not uncommon for a great series to decline as time goes by, but The Sentimental Agent might hold the record for how fast a great series can turn into one of television’s worst.

   The Sentimental Agent began as an episode of another ITC series, Man of the World. The episode entitled “The Sentimental Agent” introduced the character Carlos Barella (Carlos Thompson), owner of an import-export business.

   Man of the World featured the adventures of Michael Strait (Craig Stevens), world famous photographer-reporter, as he traveled around the world with his assistant Maggie (Tracy Reed). When Michael was arrested in Cuba, Maggie goes to Carlos for help. The story focused on Carlos as the series regulars spent most of their time off screen.

   The episode was one of Man of the World’s best and led to the character Carlos getting his own weekly series. Carlos Barella became Carlos Varela, owner of Mercury International import-export business. He moved to London and lived in a fancy office-home above the company’s warehouse.

   His staff was introduced. Chin, Carlos’ Chinese servant, had endless contacts (cousins), enjoyed gambling on horse races, and ruled with absolute power over what clothes Carlos wore. Miss Carter was the usual loyal pretty young efficient secretary. The interaction between the three characters added to the series charm.

   The highlight of the series was Carlos Thompson’s portrayal of Varela. Carlos had the charm to con anyone including the viewers. Varela was entertainingly too perfect. He knew everything and everyone. Confident, irresistible to beautiful women, he was always one step ahead of everyone else. He avoided violence, preferring to outsmart his opponents.

   Each week Carlos would be in a different part of the world on business only to be caught in the middle of danger and intrigue. The writers made creative use of Carlos’ occupation. Stories ranged from Cold War spy plots (“Express Delivery”) to adventures in exotic lands (“Scroll of Islam”). The series worked best featuring the light escapism of such episodes as “May the Saints Preserve Us.”

   In that episode, future Monty Python’s Flying Circus favorite female, Carol Cleveland played a young beautiful headstrong heiress from Texas who wanted Mercury International to ship her Northern Ireland ancestral castle to her home in Texas. The story used the expected twists as MacGuffins, action that bordered on the silly, and dialog full of humor.

   Even in the beginning the series had its flaws. Stock footage filling in for the exotic locale of the week was overused and obvious. Direction was average. And a warning, after repeated listening, the theme music “Carlos’ Theme” can get stuck in your head and refuse to leave.

   Reportedly, ratings were not as good as expected, but far worse was the alleged problems with the star. Carlos Thompson’s performance was near perfect, yet it is claimed the Spanish-speaking actor had problems with his English. Thompson lasted eight episodes (plus the final episode in perhaps the worst use of stock footage in television’s history).

   Replacing Thompson was John Turner as Bill Randall. The storyline had Randall filling in for the absent Varela who was away on business and no doubt having more entertaining adventures than the ones Randall had. The audience suffered through five episodes featuring Bill Randall. He was the complete opposite of Carlos. Randall was a dull, clueless, average looking Englishman. It was as if they had replaced James Bond with Felix Leiter.

   The switch of leads was rushed and clumsy. It wasn’t until the final episode, “A Box of Tricks” written by story editor Ian Stuart Black, that the character of Randall, and how Chin should fit in, was finally figured out. The episode also gave all the characters a happy ending.

   A special treat of watching old television shows is seeing future stars. “A Very Desirable Plot” written by Brian Clemens (The Avengers) featured the first television appearance of Diana Rigg.

   The Sentimental Agent is worth watching. The Carlos Thompson episodes are entertaining, at times brilliantly so. But avoid any episode with John Turner, it would just spoil any fond memories you have of this series.

      SOURCES:

Cineology.

Double O Section. (Warning to spoiler-phobics. This review has spoilers.)

Note:   A DVD set (Pal Only) of the 13-episode season has been released, but NetworkDVD.net no longer carries it. A five minute clip from an episode called “The Beneficiary” can be seen here on YouTube.

PHILIP MARLOWE. ABC-TV. 1959-1960. Tuesday 9:30-10pm(E). Goodson-Todman Production with California National Productions. Created by Raymond Chandler.

“Murder Is a Grave Affair.” March 8, 1960. Written and produced by Gene Wang. Directed by Paul Stewart. Cast: Philip Carey as Philip Marlowe, William Schallert as Police Lieutenant Manny Harris, Gene Nelson as Larry, Jack Weston as Artie, Betsy Jones-Moreland as Marian, Maxine Cooper as Janet. Episode available on DVD: TV GUIDE Presents Master Crime Solvers.

   A young woman in love with Larry, a married movie director, confronts his wife. The wife, Marian tells the girl she won’t stop Larry if he wants a divorce, and then celebrates with her lover. Larry is not happy. The girl means nothing to him, just one of a “hundred.” She threatens to go to the papers. Larry also has to deal with the reaction from his secretary and lover, Janet. But he’s a guy and these things happen.

   The girl turns up dead due to an unvented gas heater. Her friend Artie, who loved her, finds the body. Both he and the girl’s father believe Larry killed her, and Dad hires Philip Marlowe. Marlowe uses the typical TV PI’s method for solving crimes. The suspects are cleared one by one until only one remains who, in a burst of illogic, no hard evidence, and the closing credits fast approaching, confesses.

   Philip Carey could have made a great Marlowe, but the way the character dressed and lived, the fake scar on his cheek, his attitude towards the cops, all of it left Carey playing a character unlike the one Raymond Chandler created.

   Among the few positives, Betsy Jones-Moreland as the wife played the part with an odd amused indifference that was a fresh choice for that type of role. The script featured a brilliant twist that would surprise viewers today.

   On the negative side, the theme music is a forgettable jazz tune with a slight Bossa nova beat, as you can hear from this YouTube clip of the opening credits. There were no noirish elements, even the Day for Night scenes at the graveyard lacked any style or visual substance.

   Take the Philip Marlowe name away and this was just a good TV mystery typical of the time.

   Now, a look at the creation of the series. It began July 1957 when a deal was signed between Raymond Chandler and Goodson-Todman Productions to produce a TV series based on the character Philip Marlowe.

   According to Billboard, July 22, 1957 issue, Chandler would be the series story editor. At this point the pilot was to be filmed in August 1957, Goodson-Todman producing with Screen Gems. Casting had not yet happened nor had the episode length been decided, though the hour-long format was favored. The plan was to sell it to a network for September 1957 (Billboard, July 29, 1957).

   Broadcasting (February 10, 1958) reported the pilot done but not yet sold.

   At one point, Screen Gems dropped out (if it had ever been involved). Broadcasting (December 15, 1958) reported a signed contract between Goodson-Todman and NBC to produce thirty nine episodes “for showing on NBC-TV starting either in April or the fall.”

   This is probably when California National Productions got involved. According to Broadcasting (February 2, 1959), “CNP operates under two sales units. NBC Television Films, which syndicates largely first-run properties, and Victory Program Sales, which handles re-run series.”

   March 26, 1959, Raymond Chandler dies. Was he still involved with the show? I doubt it.

   For some reason the series appeared on ABC not NBC and lasted only (reportedly) twenty six episodes before it was dropped.

   Broadcasting (September 28, 1959) had a review of the first episode. Scroll down and click on 9/28/59 issue and scroll to pages 48 and 50.

   No title for the episode is given and it lists a different producer (William Froug). It gives the air date as September 29, 1959 instead of the currently believed October 6.

   Based on the review, Marlowe is hired in that first episode by a reformed gangster to keep his daughter from running away with a young man. The young man and Marlowe fight. Marlowe wins. A gangster with a grudge against Marlowe’s client helps the kid to take on Marlowe again. Marlowe wins but during the fight the bad guy kidnaps the girl. Marlowe chases. Marlowe and bad guy fight. Marlowe wins and bad guy is killed.

   Time magazine did a cover story “These Gunns For Hire” (October 26, 1959) about the TV detectives of the 1959-60 season. I highly recommend you read the entire article, which you can easily find online.

   According to the article the 1959-60 season had sixty-two series (network and syndicated) featuring “some variation of Cops & Robbers.”

   Also from the article, “Carey has long been an admirer of Chandler’s books, is openly proud of the fact that Chandler told him he would make a great Marlowe. What Chandler (who died in March) would think of the rest of the TV show is not quite so certain.”

   Philip Marlowe is less for the Chandler fan and more for those who enjoy watching even the average TV PI of the late 1950s.

TIP OF THE HAT: To RJ of TV Obscurities for helping me find another online source, the Broadcasting magazine archives.

   I am reprinting this from Fatal Kiss #13, which was the name that my mystery fanzine was going by at the time, but no matter the name, it was still Mystery*File.

   Forty-three voters participated in all. Each voter was to supply me a listing of his or her top ten television shows of the detective, mystery, crime, or suspense genre. Not everyone did. Some obvious misunderstandings such as votes for Mary Tyler Moore, no matter how well intended, were discarded. I otherwise left it up to the individual voter’s discretion as to how far the limits of the category could be stretched, at least in all situations in which a case of any kind could be made for the marginal show in doubt.

   Point totals were assigned as follows: A show rated as a Number One was given 10 points; shows listed as a Number Two, 9 points; and so on. If a voter did not rank his or her choices, or in cases of ties, the corresponding point totals were split equally.

   If a person voted for 5 or fewer shows, that person’s Number One show was given only 5 points, and so on, on the grounds that someone voting for only one program could thus skew the voting point totals disproportionately. And, I’m sorry, all honorable mentions were likewise honorably ignored.

   Votes for the Sunday Mystery Movie were, rightly or wrongly, split between Columbo, McCloud, and McMillan & Wife, the most well-known and longest-lasting of that multi-part feature. This incorrectly ignores the lesser-known shows that appeared as part of that series, shows such as Hec Ramsey and Amy Prentiss. Sorry, Hec. In the point totals that follow, the NBC Sunday Mystery Movie did receive one first place vote which was not otherwise tabulated.

   Here then, finally, are the results:

SHOW     POINTS     VOTERS     NUMBER OF FIRST PLACE VOTES

COLUMBO     132     23     7
THE ROCKFORD FILES     123.5     23     2
THE AVENGERS (1)     119.5     17     5
ELLERY QUEEN (2)     102    17     2
PETER GUNN     72.5     13     3

      (1) Six voters specified only the version that starred Diana Rigg.
      (2) The version with Jim Hutton was either specified or assumed.

PERRY MASON     71     13     0
DRAGNET (3)     68     10     2
PETER WIMSEY (PBS)     60.5     10     1
THE OUTSIDER     53     7     2
QUINCY     46     9     1

      (3) Four voters specified only the Webb/Alexander version.

McCLOUD     41.5     9     0
POLICE STORY     41.5     7     0
BARNEY MILLER     40.5     7     0
HARRY O     38.5     8     0
THE UNTOUCHABLES     38     6     1

THE SAINT (4)     35     6     0
IRONSIDE     33.5     7     2
MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE     30.5     5     0
ALFRED HITCHCOCK     30     5     1
NAKED CITY     30     5     0

       (4) Four voters specified only the version with Roger Moore.

NOTE: Now that we’re out of the top twenty, I will no longer include the number of voters, and the number of First Place votes, if any, will follow the total points in parentheses.

I SPY     29
KOJAK     26
McMILLAN AND WIFE     26 (1)
THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E.     26 (1)
THE EDDIE CAPRA MYSTERIES     25 (1)

THE DEFENDERS     24.5 (1)
THE PRISONER     23
THE SNOOP SISTERS     23
MYSTERY! (PBS)     22.5
M SQUAD     21

BANACEK     20
T.H.E. CAT     19.5
MANNIX     18
THE ROGUES     18 (1)
DANGER MAN / SECRET AGENT     18

MR. AND MRS. NORTH     17 (1)
BURKE’S LAW     17
KAZ     16.5
THE RIVALS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES     15 (1)
MAVERICK     14.5

CITY OF ANGELS     13
HAVE GUN, WILL TRAVEL     12.5
DIAGNOSIS: UNKNOWN     12
ELLERY QUEEN [with George Nader]     12
THE FUGITIVE     11.5

CHECKMATE     11
HAWAII FIVE-O     11 (1)
KOLCHAK: THE NIGHT STALKER     11
THE THIN MAN     10
BARETTA     10

HIGHWAY PATROL     10
CHARLIE’S ANGELS     10 (1)
HEC RAMSEY     9
BARNABY JONES     9
COLONEL MARCH OF SCOTLAND YARD     9

KRAFT MYSTERY THEATER     9
THE NAME OF THE GAME     9
77 SUNSET STRIP     8
THE LINEUP     8
MAN AGAINST CRIME     8

TOMA     8
IT TAKES A THIEF     7
HAWK     7
ADAM-12     7
THE BIONIC WOMAN     7

THE BOLD ONES     7
DEAR DETECTIVE     7
THE LONE WOLF     7
MADIGAN     7
STARSKY AND HUTCH     6.5

TENSPEED AND BROWNSHOE     6.5
CANNON     6
DRAGNET [the later version]     6
THRILLER     6
TIGHTROPE     6

MARK SABER     6
DELVECCHIO    5.5
THE MOONSTONE     5.5
WHIRLYBIRDS     5.5
GET SMART     5

RICHARD DIAMOND     5
LOU GRANT     5 (1)
JOHNNY STACCATO     5
MIKE HAMMER     5
MR. LUCKY     5

REX STOUT’S “THE DOORBELL RANG”     5
WILD WILD WEST     5
STREETS OF SAN FRANCISCO     4.5
BANYON     4
THE EDGE OF NIGHT     4

FOREIGN INTRIGUE     4
JOURNEY TO THE UNKNOWN     4
WONDER WOMAN     4
AMY PRENTISS     3
ELLERY QUEEN [with Hugh Marlowe]     3

ESPIONAGE     3
MRS. COLOMBO / KATE LOVES A MYSTERY     3
OWEN MARSHALL     3
THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN     3
THE TWILIGHT ZONE     3

ADAMS OF EAGLE LAKE     2
87TH PRECINCT     2
THE MAN CALLED X     2
THE NBC TUESDAY NIGHT MOVIE     2
NIGHT GALLERY     2

THE PERSUADERS     2
SWITCH     2
YANCY DERRINGER     2
CAIN’S 100     1
McCOY     1

NANCY DREW     1
WHO DONE IT?     1
WIDE WORLD MYSTERY     1

[UPDATE] 10-05-11.   In the original presentation of these poll results, I included the names of all the voters. I’ve decided not to at this later date, but if there’s a consensus that suggests they’d be relevant, then I will.

   Otherwise, you may take this as a small snapshot in time, with an insignificant number of voters, but nonetheless with a number of surprising and interesting results. I hope you agree!

FRINGE. Fox-TV. Bad Robot Production / Warner Brothers. September 9, 2008 through present. Created by J. J. Abrams, Alex Kurtzman and Robert Orci. CAST: Anna Torv as Agent Olivia Dunham, John Noble as Dr. Walter Bishop, and Joshua Jackson as Peter Bishop.

“Neither Here Nor There.” (Fourth Season premiere. September 23, 2011. Friday at 9E/8C.) The teams on the two worlds work together to solve the case of a shapeshifter, and Agent Lincoln Lee (Seth Gabel) joins his world’s team when no one remembers the existence of Peter Bishop. (Summary from TV.com.)

   Fringe is a science fiction police procedural series too often ignored by mystery fans. While it is an arc series with occasional stand-alone episodes, the fourth season turns the arc into a circle and offers new viewers the best chance to jump in as everything changes.

   The series is focused on three characters, FBI agent Olivia Dunham, Mad Scientist Walter Bishop, and Walter’s genius son Peter. Fringe is a special unit of the FBI that examines mysteries involving strange science.

   This means dealing with strange crimes that would test Banacek, such as everyone on board an airborne passenger plane dissolving. While dealing with the strange and gross, Fringe discovered the parallel universe and that the other side was here and for an unknown reason causing trouble.

   Only Walter had already been to the other universe and has a secret: both Peters were dying. Our universe Peter died, but the other Peter remained alive but with little time left. The other universe Walter (Walternate) discovered a cure but was unaware of it because of the actions of a baldheaded man called an Observer.

   Little is known about the Observers except they show up at every important moment of time and have a way of being in Fringe episodes like Hitchcock did in his movies. Walter had been watching, entered the parallel universe, took dying Peter to our universe, saved young boy’s life and kept him.

   Well, now Walter had really done it. Both universes began to bump into each other causing death and destruction, with the other side getting the worse of it. The other universe then sent shapeshifters over here to find the mysterious device that would save their universe. Meanwhile, our Fringe division solved the weekly mystery, tracked down the bad guys, and fought off the invasion from the other universe.

   The third season alternated episodes between the two universes where we met our characters alternate universe counterpart (except for now grown up Peter who was from there). We learned the other universe was not evil and only a few had goatees. They, like us, just want to survive.

   Things remained strange but our Fringe finally found the final piece of the device to save the universe by taking out the other. The machine would only work with Peter in it, forcing him to chose between the universes.

   He then was sent into the future and learned the only way one universe would survive was if both survived, So Peter connected the two universes. Our Fringe and theirs must now work together to save both universes. Peter disappeared and no one noticed. Cut to a group of Observers where we learned Peter was not just gone, he had never existed.

   So, got that? Well, don’t worry about it. If Peter never existed, he never died in our universe, he and Olivia never fell in love, he and Fauxlivia (other universe’s Olivia) never had a baby, and Walter never stole Peter from the other universe and the reason for the universes problems change.

   All the characters who had evolved due to Peter’s influence will change to who they would have become if they had never met Peter. Shades of It’s a Wonderful Life without Clarence! This means the writers have a whole lot of explaining to do, and that means you newbies can learn what is going on along with us longtime viewers

   If all this is sounding a little Lost to you, there is one major difference. Lost made it up as they went along; Fringe, from the beginning, has had an ending all ready planned. The clues, the strange twists, the answers all will be revealed and make sense (we hope) when the series stops.

   If you enjoy mixed genre television, with some science fiction and horror tossed in with your FBI police procedural story, give the series a try. Besides Fringe offers viewers twice the universes of forensics than CBS’s CSI:NY.

      

   Before beginning, you may wish to go back to the first two in this series of articles about one of the more mysterious private eye series in early TV, The Cases of Eddie Drake. Part One is here, and Part Two followed soon thereafter.

   After these two posts appeared, I asked various archives for information about the series. David Bushman of the Paley Center for Media Arts responded they had nine episodes and offered me the chance to watch them. To this old researcher it was like getting a free ticket to Disneyland, but I was unable to go. Mr. Bushman asked me to send in my questions and someone there would watch the episodes and try to find some answers.

   I am amazed by the effort Mr. Bushman and the Paley Center put into answering questions about a show few remember and even fewer care about. If you have any interest in saving old television I can’t think of a better place to support or be a member. Please, check out their website at PaleyCenter.org.

   The episodes were in no condition to view, so techs at the Paley Center have been hard at work making viewable digital copies. This done, Mr. Bushman watched the following episodes: “The Brass Key” (episode one), “Hush, Hush”, “Murder By Proxy”, “Murder in Three-Quarter Time”, “Sleep Well, Angel”, “The Judas Coin”, and “A Hole in the Head” (all with Patricia Morison). He also watched “Murder Ad Lib” and “The Man Who Was Nobody” (with Lynne Roberts).

   With “Shooting The Works” (new link), this leaves only three episodes still missing.

   While the question of when did Eddie Drake first air remains unknown, we have learned more about the series.

   Copyright date on the Patricia Morison’s episodes is 1948. The copyright on the Lynne Roberts’ episodes is 1951. Copyright holder for both is IMPPRO. There is no mention on copyright screen of CBS, DuMont, or NBC.

    “Were there any changes to the standing sets? Was Eddie’s rare 1948 Davis Divan in all episodes?” It is unlikely the sets for a series shelved for three years would have survived.

   Eddie’s rare car was in all the episodes except the first “The Brass Key”. This makes “Shooting the Works” episode two since Eddie mentions he has bought a new car.

   Amazingly, Mr. Bushman took the time out to map Eddie’s office in Morison and Roberts’ episodes. The water cooler, the map, the window with the fake brick wall showing through, the bookshelf, and the rest were the same. The most noticeable change was the set looks better in the Roberts’ episodes.

   There were differences. The theme song and opening credits changed. Roberts’ episodes had a fancier title card featuring a full body silhouette of a man in a suit (drawing) in lower right corner of the screen his shadow cast under the letters of the title.

   Morison’s episodes had her and Haggerty deliver the credits at the end, while Roberts’ episodes credits were graphics upfront.

    “Any changes in the credits?” The chances the exact same people would return after three years is unbelievable.

   The same people but with newly credited help. Jason James wrote all episodes seen, but the Roberts’ two had an additional credit for additional dialog by Robert Lehman. Harlan Thompson and Herbert Strock produced all episodes with Paul Garrison directing, Morison’s episodes had photography by Guy Roe OR Charles Trego. Roberts’ episodes had photography by Guy Roe and Lucien Androit. Strock was credited alone in the Morison’s episodes while he AND Ed Taylor got screen credit in the Roberts’ episodes. Assistant director was Leo Pepin then Leo Peppin (unknown why he added another p to his name) and Chuck Wasserman.

    “Any differences in the two female characters?”

   Both were psychiatrists. There is no mention of Dr. Gayle (Morison) or the book in the two Roberts’ episodes seen. The relationship between Drake and the two remains much the same. Cop Lt. Walsh is played by Theodore von Eltz in all episodes.

   So what have we learned? For one, a major clue in the Producer credits.

   Searching Billboard (at Google books), the August 13, 1949 issue, regarding the Ed Wynn Show for CBS, there was this: “Harlan Thompson named yesterday (6) as show’s associate producer. Thompson is a former veepee of IMPRRO (sic) Inc with film and Broadway musical comedy production experience.”

   IMPPRO was still in production in 1952, but without Harlan Thompson. Herbert L. Strock was now President of the company.

   If IMPPRO, the copyright holder, was still active, why would DuMont need to film the final four episodes? If DuMont did film the final four (as is currently believed), why were the thirteen episodes shown on WENR-TV starting September 7, 1951 when DuMont did not air Eddie Drake until March 6, 1952? If filmed in 1951, why is Harlan Thompson credited as producer when he left the company before August 1949?

   Now what do we know and what can we deduce?

   Billboard magazine from 1948 reported five episodes of Eddie Drake were delivered to CBS, with four more in editing. The filming of the final four episodes was scheduled for November 17, 1948.

   Suddenly, Patricia Morison was offered the lead in Broadway play Kiss Me, Kate. She is gone. Deduction: This is why IMPPRO had to recast the part for the final four episodes to complete the order CBS had paid $300,000 for.

   Current belief says CBS tossed the nine and never aired them. Why? $300,000 in 1948 is a great deal of money to just toss away. And why copyright the episodes in 1948?

   If so many confirmed clues point to the final four being filmed in 1948-49, why are those episodes copyrighted 1951?

   How the Sherlock Holmes do I know? But I can guess.

   The improved look of the series probably came from a sudden increase in the budget. Where did IMPPRO get the money?

   During the delay to recast, did CBS TV Film Sales copyright and shop the nine episodes around? Was the early sales of the first nine episodes where IMPPRO got the money to increase the budget?

   But if the Roberts’ episodes were filmed in 1948-49, why weren’t they copyrighted then?

   Deduction: something went wrong. Perhaps the sales were not good enough for CBS, so it didn’t bother to copyright the final four and shelved the entire series.

   Until 1951 when there was a growing demand for TV Film syndicated series. CBS dusted off Cases of Eddie Drake, copyrighted the Roberts’ episodes, and sold them in syndication.

   I remain convinced Eddie was on the air somewhere in 1949, but until I can prove it:

THE CASES OF EDDIE DRAKE (Syndicated) 1951. Created and written by Jason James. With additional dialog for few episodes by Robert Lehman. Produced by Harlan Thompson and Herbert L. Strock. Directed by Paul Garrison.

   The chances are that the 1957 to 1961 TV phase of the American Private Eye will be remembered as the most slickest in the TV genre. (“Slick,” as in the sense of smooth and efficient, streamlined.) There had been nothing else like before and nothing since has managed to equal the quintessence of its visual style.

   In short, it was a curious phenomenon seemingly belonging to time, by way of inspiration, aided and abetted by style. This unique time period ranges from, say, Richard Diamond, Private Detective (CBS, 1957-59; NBC, 1959-60) to Michael Shayne (NBC, 1960-61). Fortunately, the phase didn’t last long enough to become a parody of itself (unlike the later TV Spy cycle) and remains therefore a largely unblemished sub-genre.

   Hollywood films of the 1940s such as the obvious contenders The Maltese Falcon (1941), the 20th Fox “Michael Shayne” films with Lloyd Nolan (1940 to 1942), Murder My Sweet (1944) and The Big Sleep (1946), featuring private detectives, and fashionably now termed as film noir, had as their inspiration the modern literary genre: from early hard-boiled works by Hammett and Carroll John Daly to more contemporary authors such as Jonathan Latimer, Brett Halliday [Davis Dresser] and Chandler. All except Latimer had been contributors to the pulp magazines (Black Mask, Dime Detective, Spicy Mystery, Thrilling Detective, etc.).

   This Hollywood studio period embodied the on-screen noir tough guy, epitomized by a Humphrey Bogart or by an unlikely Dick Powell (Cornered, 1945). They were tense and tight-lipped, yet agile. Men of a cynical disbelief that slipped easily into bemused irony. Their film world was often corpse-littered and bafflingly plotted.

   The early period of TV Private Eyes (around 1949 to 1954) tended to stem from radio or were under the executive thumb of proprietorial sponsors. One of the earliest series was Martin Kane, Private Eye (NBC, 1949-54), which seemed to change its leading actor with each season. Charlie Wild, Private Detective (CBS, 1950-51; ABC, 1951-52; DuMont, 1952) was an extension of sponsor Wildroot Cream’s The Adventures of Sam Spade, Detective radio series (Howard Duff).

   The Cases of Eddie Drake (DuMont, 1952) was followed by The Files of Jeffrey Jones (syndicated 1954-55); Don Haggerty played the featured PI in each. Disappointingly, these on-screen characters and their milieu belonged strictly to 1940s Hollywood.

   The TV Private Eye phase of the late 1950s, on the other hand, appeared to be the result of several exciting events. Primarily, the advent of paperback priginals led by Fawcett’s line of Gold Medal books in 1950 (previously, paperback books had been reprints of hard cover editions). Genre authors published by Gold Medal in the 1950s or its companion imprint, Crest, included Richard S. Prather (with the Shell Scott novels), William Campbell Gault (Joe Puma novels), Stephen Marlowe (Chester Drum novels), Curt Cannon [Evan Hunter] (Cannon/Matt Cordell stories).

   Additionally, Henry Kane for Avon & Signet Signet & Avon (Peter Chambers), Thomas B. Dewey for Dell (Pete Scofield) and Frank Kane also for Dell (Johnny Liddell). Reprinted from hardcover were Mickey Spillane for Dutton then Signet (Mike Hammer, of course), a publishing phenomenon, and Brett Halliday for Dodd Mead and Dell (Mike Shayne). Hard-boiled private eye stories seemed to be flavor of the month (or should I say, decade?).

   Another strong influence appeared to be the increasing sophistication of jazz music and the contemporary jazz musicians’ sartorial inclination toward what was known as the Ivy League Look (think jazz saxophonist Gerry Mulligan or Craig Stevens in the 1958-61 Peter Gunn or even Dick Van Dyke in the 1961-66 sitcom The Dick Van Dyke Show).

   Collegiate, soft-shouldered suits with button-down shirts and slim ties. Rather timely, for four albums which are now considered seminal jazz records (Dave Brubeck’s Time Out, Miles Davis’s Kind of Blue, Charles Mingus’s Mingus Ah Um and Ornette Coleman’s The Shape of Jazz to Come) were all released in 1959.

   I remember reading somewhere that the tough-as-nails TV Western hero evolved from his place on the prairie to the mean streets of the TV Private Eye. Interestingly, the Private Eye phase was active during the time of the TV Western stampede (where kiddie actioners like The Lone Ranger and The Gene Autry Show gave way to “adult” Westerns like Cheyenne, Rawhide and Gunsmoke in the mid-1950s).

   For me, Scott Brady’s Shotgun Slade (syndicated 1959-61) may have been enjoyable for its account of a gun-toting investigator in the Old West — complete with jazz score! — but I am not at all sure about the theory that Jim Hardie (Tales of Wells Fargo), for instance, might have become someone like Stuart Bailey (77 Sunset Strip).

   A listing of relevant TV Private Eye series during this period would include The Investigator (NBC, 1958), Markham (CBS, 1959-60), 21 Beacon Street (NBC, 1959; ABC, 1959-60), Coronado 9 (syndicated 1960-61), Bourbon Street Beat (ABC, 1959-60), Hawaiian Eye (ABC, 1959-63), Philip Marlowe (ABC, 1959-60), Johnny Midnight (syndicated 1960), Surfside 6 (ABC, 1960-62), The Brothers Brannagan (sic) (syndicated 1960-61) and Michael Shayne (NBC, 1960-61).

   Some interesting-sounding pilot shows from the decade include “The Girl from Kansas” (1952) with Barry Sullivan as sleuth Nemo Grey (I can’t tell if the would-be series, to be called Nemo Grey, would be about a police or private detective); “Death the Hard Way” (1954) had William Gargan as PI Barry Craig (directed by Blake Edwards); “Mike Hammer” (1954) was an early try-out starring Brian Keith (written and directed by Blake Edwards); “The Bigger They Come” (1955) from A.A. Fair/Erle Stanley Gardner’s first Cool and Lam novel; “Man On a Raft” (1958) had Mark Stevens as Michael Shayne in an early attempt for a series; “The Silent Kill” (1959) was based on author William Campbell Gault’s Brock Callahan p.i. character.

   I left my personal favorites until last. The phase included also the bloodthirsty Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer (syndicated 1958-59) with a suitably brutal, street-fighting, crew-cutted Darren McGavin (and yes, the author’s and character’s names together is the full title). The enterprising (answering service/car phone) Richard Diamond, Private Detective (CBS, 1957-59; NBC, 1959-60) with the always-watchable David Janssen (his first series) and an outstanding jazz score by Pete Rugolo.

   Perhaps the best of the Warner Brothers TV private eye shows of the time, 77 Sunset Strip (ABC, 1958-64) was the first to offer an agency-based ensemble private detective team as well as a snappy signature tune. Blake Edwards’ Peter Gunn (NBC, 1958-60; ABC, 1960-61) stands as the epitome of late 1950s TV Private Eyes for me, dealing out action and sophistication in equal doses, along with Henry Mancini’s entirely jazz-based score.

   The latter presentation went on to influence many other TV shows, most notably Staccato (aka Johnny Staccato; NBC, 1959-60; ABC, 1960), John Cassavetes’ gift to the small-screen as jazz pianist/private eye working out of a small Greenwich Village jazz club, often accompanying house band musicians Barney Kessel, Shelly Manne, Red Norvo and Red Mitchell.

   They were all were taut crime dramas which if anything improved as they went on. The writing and direction was efficient, being vigorous and well-staged despite some unavoidable weaknesses in plotting and performance. The 1950s private eyes were indeed masterful but mannered heroes. By contrast, later makers of TV Private Eye series seemed to suffer from that garish and nervous over-sophistication which bedevilled so many producers in the age of color television.

   A significant TV phase of the past that was sadly brought to a halt by two unrelated forces — the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) and the 1960s TV Spy craze — was the TV Gangster period, led by Quinn Martin’s The Untouchables (ABC, 1959-63). It’ll be my next project.

Note:   The introduction to this series of columns by Tise Vahimagi on TV mysteries and crime shows may be found here, followed by:

Part 1: Basic Characteristics (A Swift Overview)
Part 2.0: Evolution of the TV Genre (UK)
Part 2.1: Evolution of the TV Genre (US)
Part 3.0: Cold War Adventurers (The First Spy Cycle)
Part 3.1: Adventurers (Sleuths Without Portfolio).
Part 4.0: Themes and Strands (1950s Police Dramas).
Part 4.1: Themes and Strands (Durbridge Cliffhangers)
Part 5.0: Theatre of Crime (US).
Part 5.1: Theatre of Crime (Hours of Suspense Revisited).
Part 5.2: Theatre of Crime (UK)

CASTLE. ABC. Season Premiere: “Rise.” September 19, 2011. Monday at 10e/9c.

   I really want to like Castle. Everyone tells me how wonderful it is, the mysteries, the characters, the actors, the romance, but, sorry, I can’t make it through one episode without throwing something in anger at my TV. And I like my TV.

   For example, currently available on YouTube is this clip:

         CASTLE-4×01 Sneak peek (Episode 1 Comic Con Preview)

   Should the link stop working, the following is a detailed description of what happens:

   Visually we open with cuts between black screen and gunshot victim series female lead Kate Beckett (Stana Katic). Beckett is unconscious on a moving hospital gurney. Shots start at extreme close up and pull back shot by shot. We hear the sound of the heart monitor beep despite that there is no machine anywhere to be seen. Finally we hear the sound of flat-lining and fade to black.

   BANG! Hospital doors fly open. We see two paramedics racing from one hallway into the next section of the long hallway.They are running with the gurney Beckett is on. Also on the gurney is Beckett’s best friend, Dr. Lanie Parish (Tamala Jones) who is maintaining hand pressure on the bloody wound and ordering Beckett not to die.

   Cue violins in soundtrack.

   Cut to Beckett. Then Castle (Nathan Fillion) running to keep up. Still moving down the long hallway the camera intercutting between Lanie, her bloody hand and Beckett. Shot of hallway wall and help coming. More of the gurney ride. Help arrives and tells Lanie to let him take over.

    “She is my friend, you understand that? She’s my friend.”

    “Then let us save her life.”

   Lanie is standing in the hallway when Castle catches up and they watch the gurney continue its journey down the hallway. Laine and Castle look worried. Go to black.

   What the writers hope to accomplish with this scene is to make you feel the emotions of Lanie and Castle over the possible death of Beckett, and to do so in an exciting visual way. So what is wrong with this scene? Why is my TV shaking in fear as I look for something to throw?

   First, running is not visually exciting unless there is a threat of danger behind it. Becket is not going to die. The only danger is if Lanie falls off the gurney.

   Second, the scene is supposed to emotionally effect us. We should share the feelings of the characters. But everything is too over the top, from the soundtrack of the beeps from nowhere and sad TV music to the incredibly awful dialog such as “Then let us save her life.”

   Third, no hospital in any Universe would force an emergency patient to travel down a long hallway to get to the doctors. Beckett is a police officer with a gunshot wound and brought to the hospital by an ambulance. Wouldn’t the ambulance park closer to the Emergency Room? Wouldn’t someone have called ahead so emergency personnel would be waiting for the ambulance when it arrived? When every second could mean life or death, they take the scenic route.

   So, how did this melodramatic scene affect me? Well, when I stopped laughing at the Calvary charge down the endless hallway, I became annoyed that the writers held such little respect for the viewers they thought this manipulative scene would be so emotionally moving we would not notice how stupid it is.

   Jeopardy is an exciting powerful dramatic device that rarely works on television because TV writers are in denial that everyone knows stars don’t die without media spoilers.

   Castle and Beckett are the only two characters on Castle who can’t die or the series is over, This is why jeopardy is usually left to the supporting or guest cast, but who cares about them? Because the nature of the series format, jeopardy can still work but rarely involving death.

   While you don’t see it in the clip above, Castle did set up an effective season ending cliffhanger involving jeopardy. The death of supporting character Captain Montgomery left open the possibility new Captain Gates might interfere with Castle tagging along on murder investigations or even worse interfere with his on-again off-again romance with Beckett.

   Fans did not worry about Beckett possibly dying, but they did respond to the jeopardy Gates could cause Castle and Beckett’s relationship. Me, the thought of yet another logic defying obstacle to Castle and Beckett having sex is enough to have me whimpering for mercy.

   Yes, Castle is only a TV show. You just want to enjoy it, not think. It is just one scene of many. And the series is a comedy mystery where reality is an occasional visitor. But logic is still required. Riding a gurney with a dying woman down an extra long hospital hallway is so stupid it rips me out of the story and rudely reminds me I could be wasting my time more productively with another TV series.

   I really want to like Castle I really do, but my brain won’t let me.

   This is an annual event, held in November, and having missed the last couple, I managed to get into London last year [2010] for this one. First up was a illustrated talk by Rick Leary who was Computer Graphic Supervisor for the Guy Ritchie film Sherlock Holmes. He talked about how they recreated the banks of the Thames for the shots in the film.

   I was amazed by the amount of time and effort that they spent getting detail correct. The first thing he did was to get Victorian maps of the area from which to work. Panoramic digital photographs were taken from the high walkways on Tower Bridge and then existing Victorian building were found (some in Manchester) that were inserted to replace modem ones.

   As he said, most of the original buildings from that time that hadn’t been naturally replaced, were destroyed in the Blitz. A helicopter shoot was arranged, taking a great deal of time in these security conscious days, to film the Thames itself, but the day (in November) turned out to be so sunny that the footage couldn’t be used.

   In fact, he said, although they tried to use photographs of the Thames for the film, reflections in the surface meant that they couldn’t. He ended by showing excerpts from the film showing the final fight scenes on Tower Bridge, firstly with the green screen background as the actors grappled in the studio, and then with CGI imposed.

   It was an illuminating talk (in more ways than one) and I was very impressed by the amount of care that was spent in making the background detail authentic.

   Secondly came a 1949 thirty-minute television production of “The Adventure of the Speckled Band” with Alan Napier (later to become Alfred to Adam West’s Batman) as Sherlock Holmes. This was part of a series Your Show Time and was a fairly routine rendition which could be described, I suppose, as dated but enjoyable.

   Melville Cooper made a Watson straight from the Nigel Bruce School of Performing Arts. The series was sponsored by Lucky Strike which perhaps explains why host and narrator Arthur Shields should suddenly take a moment to exhale smoke directly at the camera.

   Another amusing moment was when, as Helen Stones started to tell her story, Holmes started to light the biggest curved pipe you could wish to see.

   The third item was “Four Beheadings and a Funeral”, a seven minute excerpt from “Treehouse of Horror XV”, a 2004 episode of The Simpsons. It was a Jack the Ripper style story (Jack the Rip-off?) with Eliza Simpson as the Holmes look-a-like, hindered by the Watsonian Dr Bartley. Other Simpsons regulars, including Marge as a flower girl, cropped up using deliberately exaggerated phoney cockney accents. An amusing sequence that I hadn’t seen before.

   Finally we had “Sting of Death”, a 1955 episode from The Elgin Hour, based on A Taste of Honey by H.F. Heard. The leading character here is Mr Mycroft (supposedly, though not exactly stated, Sherlock Holmes) played by Boris Karloff. He comes to the rescue of Mr Silchester (a self-contained, stuffy man superbly played by Robert Flemyng) when he is attacked by the bees of the local beekeeper Hargrove (Heregrove in the book).

   The book’s weakness (well one of them) is that there seems no rational explanation for Heregrove’s actions (assuming that his actions are scientifically possible, a large assumption) except that he is mad. The film follows the book fairly faithfully (except for the necessary shortening) and somehow the failings appeared less as they are more easily overlooked as the action moves on.

   Karloff was fine as the elderly retired Holmes and Hermione Gingold put in a sterling performance as the deliberately perky housekeeper. Another dated but enjoyable production, which linked with “Speckled Band above when, in his final scene, Karloff proceeded to light the second largest curved pipe of the evening.

   I know, now, having checked after writing the above, that “Speckled Band” and “Sting of Death” are available on a US DVD together with other, some less Sherlockian, material. I’m trying to resist but the temptation is there.

Editorial Comment:  The DVD set is easily found in the US at least, including from Amazon. Some of these films and TV programs are also available as videos on the Internet. A little Googling should turn them up without much difficulty.