TONIGHT'S PILOT: [The] Police Story - "Stakeout," starring Vic Morrow, Edward Asner, Diane Baker and Chuck Connors. Directed by William Graham.

(All images courtesy of Sony Pictures Home Entertainment unless noted otherwise.) 

Of all the genres that creators of new TV shows have pitched to cable or broadcast networks, the anthology series is arguably the hardest sell, which explains why there were so few in the era of Cobweb TV. These shows typically have no (or few) regular cast members. The type of stories the creator(s) wish to show from week to week had better be attention-grabbing to programming executives, or it won't get green-lighted to the pilot stage.

Vic Morrow

In the case of Police Story (NBC, 1973-1978), it was the brainchild of best-selling author Joseph Wambaugh (The New Centurions, The Blue Knight), who also happened to be a member of the LAPD at the time. He conceived PS as a crime drama that was a character study and a police procedural, depicting various flawed individuals working in law enforcement. To make the stories "gritty" and "authentic" (two words often used to describe the show) like his novels, the series' writers would have input from actual cops for script ideas and in the writing of the same. A "who's who" of veteran actors (along with rising stars and promising newcomers) would be utilized as guest stars in each episode to further draw viewers in.

So it went, NBC was sold on PS... nearly. Despite the risk of a venture as it was (even if the grittiness was watered down for '70s television), they decided to air the pilot as a TV movie, more or less leaving it up to Nielsen families to determine if it should be a regular series. On 3/20/1973, "Stakeout" was broadcast, and TV critics and viewers paid attention, much to NBC's delight.

Chuck Connors

The primary action in "Stakeout" revolves around a particular police unit that goes after problematic felons, their latest quarry being the tall, imposing Slow Boy (Chuck Connors). In between moments of investigation, surveillance, and pursuit, we get a glimpse of how working on the squad is taking a toll on the life of Sgt. Joe LaFreida (Vic Morrow). He's been divorced for a few years, and his superior, Lt. Dave Blodgett (Ed Asner), thinks lack of companionship may be affecting his work. He soon meets Jenny Dale (Diane Baker), though it's under the most awkward circumstances.

Chuck Connors and Diane Baker

Thanks to a lead from their regular tipster, Gonzales (Sandy Baron), the squad stops Slow Boy and his accomplices from robbing a grocery store, but it doesn't go smoothly as he briefly takes Jenny hostage. LaFreida, armed with a shotgun, makes him surrender by bluffing to shoot him. Of course, she had no idea LaFreida was bluffing, so she later expresses anger at his perfunctory apology, even calling him a "pig." A day later, a remorseful LaFreida tracks her down and gives a more thoughtful apology. Though their exchange gets heated again, Jenny comes around to understand why he handled the situation the way he did. Eventually, they have dinner together and become a couple.

Vic Morrow and Ed Asner

Meanwhile, Slow Boy's out of jail on bail with his trial pending. Based on his history, the felony detail figures it's only a matter of time before he tries to commit another crime. LaFreida's next move is to make Sgt. Solly Piccolini (Harry Guardino) disguises himself as a wealthy man in hopes that Slow Boy may be attracted to the notion of robbing him or burglarizing his mansion (a "loaner" the unit has access to). Blodgett gets wind of this, and knowing the ruse would be seen as entrapment by any court, brings the sting to a halt and chews out LaFreida.

Sandy Baron

The monitoring of Slow Boy's movements continues on, and one night, after several days of behaving, he calls in a false alarm that gets the cops watching him out of his hair long enough so he can slip out of his residence unseen. In short order, he kills Gonzales for being a snitch and schemes to attempt the robbery of another grocery store. Coincidentally, a prostitute LaFreida has befriended winds up spending the night with Slow Boy, and when she hears about the upcoming heist, she tips him off. The night the caper's scheduled to go down, the squad quietly waits in the store for Slow Boy's arrival. He doesn't fail to disappoint them...

Vic Morrow and Ina Balin

Generally speaking, as realism hit motion pictures in the 1960s, it eventually did on TV, but it took longer to find a foothold. Attempts to portray edginess and the human side of the police on cop shows were made before PS (ABC's NYPD is one example that comes to mind). Still, it was the success of The French Connection (1971) that sparked network interest in exploring a newer breed of crime drama. With PS, the depictions of cops making mistakes and living lives beyond the police station every week were gradually incorporated into other crime series in the years ahead.

Harry Guardino and Kim Hamilton

Smartly directed by William Graham (who helmed the 1980 Emmy-nominated TV movie Guyana Tragedy: The Story of Jim Jones), "Stakeout" is only dated by the era it was filmed. Today, a lot of E. Jack Newman's script comes across as formulaic after the fact, compared to those of more recent crime dramas (in fact, some of it seems clichéd by '70s standards). However, it still works because the screenplay has a reasonable structure, good characterizations, and a suitable (if predictable) ending. The one part I find fault with is the subplot with Piccolini, a man who claims he still hates black people after six months of lectures in community relations. He quickly changes his tune after talking with a black policewoman (Kim Hamilton) who's selected to pose as his date when he goes undercover as the rich man. The conclusion is implied, but the outcome still doesn't ring true. Aside from this misstep, the story held my attention, from the quiet moments to the action-packed ones.

After the script, "Stakeout" stays compelling through excellent acting, which you don't always get in a pilot. Still, considering the involvement of Wambaugh, the actors evidently brought their A-game to the production.

Vic Morrow and Diane Baker

I'm sure any actor could've played LaFreida, but if somebody else did, the pilot would never have sold. That's how important Vic Morrow is to the success of "Stakeout." His energy propels the narrative along, and in turn, the enthusiasm he has for the material has rubbed off on his fellow thespians, with positive results. At times, you swear he's acting without acting, and you believe him, even if his dialogue is lacking in four-letter words. As one of the best character actors of his day who should've been a more significant star than he was, Morrow never fails to disappoint me, so my discovery of his work in "Stakeout" was a time (and money) well spent.

left to right: Vic Morrow, John Bennett
Perry, Chuck Connors, and Diane Baker

Unlike the cops on the felony squad, there are no nuances to the character of Slow Boy, so Chuck Connors doesn't have to do much except being a bad-ass, but he does it well without overplaying the part. He even gets to do some stunt work, showing he was in pretty good shape for a guy (then) in his early fifties. Best of all, having the six-foot-five Connors get taken down a peg by the five-foot-nine Morrow makes for a fun variation of David versus Goliath.

To be fair, Ed Asner's performance as Blodgett doesn't seem much different than his portrayal of Lou Grant on The Mary Tyler Moore Show (and Lou Grant), but by being off the screen for all the time he is, he's believable enough as a lawman when he is on. Then again, playing a boss and yelling at his subordinates is something Asner can do in his sleep.

Barbara Rhoades

Other standouts in the cast include Diane Baker, David Doyle, Ina Balin, Sandy Baron, Ralph Meeker, Harry Guardino, Mel Scott, and John Bennett Perry. The biggest surprise in casting is Barbara Rhoades (best known for playing Sheldon Leonard's girlfriend in the three-part Sanford & Son story "The Hawaiian Connection") as Gonzales' girlfriend. She displays a range in her acting that I never knew she possessed.

(Shout! Factory)

"Stakeout" is included as a bonus feature on Shout! Factory's  Police Story Season One DVD set. (For whatever reason, the movie is called "Slow Boy" in Shout's packaging but not on the actual film.) Audio quality is fine, while the video is erratic from show to show, but as a whole, they look and sound better than the reruns shown on A&E in the '90s. For the inaugural season, the majority of episodes are winners, including Morrow's second (and last) appearance in the two-part "Countdown" (where the Mob tries to kill LaFreida) and "The Gamble," starring Angie Dickinson in what became the spin-off pilot to Police Woman. The other notable bonus feature is a new interview with Joseph Wambaugh.

Kevin Dobson

One more point of trivia about "Stakeout": there's a cameo by Kevin Dobson as a patrolman. Twelve days before the airing of "Stakeout," the TV movie The Marcus-Nelson Murders premiered. Subsequently, it became the pilot for Kojak, which Dobson joined as a cast member months later.

AND NOW, A WORD FROM R.A.M.'67:

Cobweb TV! Rating for "Stakeout": three and a half stars (out of four).
Cobweb TV! Rating for Police Story Season One: three stars.

NEXT TIME ON... COBWEB TV!

(DC Comics)

Keeping it trivial...

R.A.M.'67

TONIGHT'S EPISODE: "Great Scott!"

Joseph Kearns (All images courtesy of Hank Ketcham Enterprises and Shout! Factory, unless noted otherwise.)

In no way did the sitcom Dennis the Menace (CBS, 1959-1963) affect the course of television history whatsoever. The adaptation of Hank Ketcham's comic strip was so faithful to the original source (except for the dog, Fremont) that it inevitably had more comedy than depth. It was one among many series produced by Screen Gems, the TV division of Columbia Pictures. It wasn't a monster hit, never got nominated for an Emmy, and what success it had eventually came to complicate the life of star Jay North. (Don't think for a moment I wrote all of this to intentionally annoy anybody who really enjoys the series. It just needs to be discussed from the proper perspective. Be thankful I'm not diving into the hornet's nest of how Mr. Wilson's nerve tonic probably had alcohol in it, as cough medicine did back then. You know he had a lot of nerve tonic with Dennis around, and you can guess what resulted from that.)

With those facts established, I'm partial to the show. At its best, a typical episode is guaranteed to have a steady run of belly laughs and a cavalcade of talented character actors (including one of my favorites, Mary Wickes) who participated in each story. If Dennis is like a car from off an assembly line, it was a well-made product people are still interested in long after the last one came out in '63. Best of all, the show didn't overstay its welcome, though it had to stop at four years due to the aging of the juvenile cast members and a dip in the TV ratings. While North has had a rough go of adulthood, a pall doesn't hang over my enjoyment of Dennis because his troubles had yet to manifest back then. He was a professional (albeit young) actor who always gave those who tuned in what they wanted: the hell-raising (by TV standards) Dennis Mitchell, who also loved his family and friends. No more, no less. (You want a more complex, emotional kid? Try "Beaver" Cleaver.)

PS - The slingshot
wouldn't be around long. 

Almost seventeen years after I last saw reruns of Dennis on Nickelodeon, they began airing on Antenna TV this past January. Even better, Shout! Factory caught me off guard (and more than a few steady viewers of Cobweb TV) with the release of season one of Dennis back in March. Since then, season two came out in late July, and the remaining seasons are on their way like clockwork. (Season three has a street date of October 25, with season four arriving on January 10, 2012.) So far, the quality of the digital mastering for the episodes is more than adequate, but it's not stunning. (To my eyes and ears, the picture and sound are only slightly improved from the Nickelodeon broadcasts.) The main selling point is that all episodes are uncut. Bonus features have been limited on the two available collections, and like many TV shows that have been reissued on DVD, the season one set has the most.

left to right: Stu Shostak,
Jeannie Russell and Gloria Henry

Indeed, season one is a must-have for Dennis fans because of two "extras" featuring TV historian Stu Shostak talking with Gloria Henry (Alice Mitchell, Dennis's mom) and Jeannie Russell (Margaret, the arch-nemesis of Dennis). Of these, I'll spotlight the shorter one recorded in 2010 on HD video (the other was done in 2007 for radio), which I watched first. For any avid follower of Dennis, if they haven't heard many behind-the-scenes stories about the show in a while, one of the specific tidbits mentioned during this interview will surely stun them.

When the topic turned to talk about Joseph Kearns, forever to be remembered as the first Mr. Wilson, Russell and Henry did speak fondly of him. Along the way, there was this exchange (minor edits inserted for clarity)...

SHOSTAK: Now, did [Kearns] go on a diet, because--

HENRY: Yes, yes--

SHOSTAK: --because of the fame of the show?

HENRY: Yes, he decided he [was]... the star, so he should slim down and look more like a star, and so, he went on the diet of that-- What was that drink [powder] you [mixed] with [water]?

SHOSTAK: Metrecal.

HENRY: Metrecal, and he had that for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. That's all he had for about six weeks in a row, and you can't lose that much weight, that fast, healthily. So, he had a stroke.

(Find A Grave)

I've read biographical profiles of Joseph Kearns that mention his death at 55 from a cerebral hemorrhage and don't elaborate on it. (He always looked much older than that to me.) These remarks from Gloria Henry (also brought up in the radio interview) not only explain what contributed, in part, to his early passing but also raise questions about what Kearns had in mind when he decided to take such a risk with his body.

It was midway through the production of the third season, and all of a sudden, Kearns felt the need to drop some pounds to "look more like a star." He likely picked up on how other people had successfully done it through a liquid diet, which led him to try the reckless approach without consulting a doctor. To observe his body on an episode of Dennis, it's evident he didn't measure up to Jack Lalanne, and he likely hadn't done any actual physical exertion in years. So it goes that by having only Metrecal for sustenance and continuing with the same limited activity, the results took a toll on his person as he lost (according to Henry in the radio interview) 40 pounds within six weeks. Also, Henry's statements suggest more than a few of the cast and crew knew what he was up to. Why didn't somebody intervene? Was it because of his shyness that they decided to respect his privacy?

(Google images)

As for the protein-loaded Metrecal, long after its popularity peaked in the mid-'60s, it was discovered that the food substitute wasn't necessarily the best thing for people to be digesting. According to a September 7, 1986, New York Times article, by the late '70s, a health scare kicked up when "The Government forced all liquid protein products off the market after they were implicated in 59 deaths." This happened sometime after the Food and Drug Administration issued warnings about Metrecal and other similar dietary supplements. As a result, Metrecal was soon gone from store shelves forever. Of course, for every reported fatality, there are the unreported ones; back on February 17, 1962, Metrecal may have played a part in killing Kearns (five days after his birthday), in addition to an unidentified number of other consumers before the last documented fatalities. (Bear in mind, there's always been controversy over protein diets in general. The debate about them is ongoing, as is the scientific research.)

We occasionally read about (or hear of) women who go to extreme measures to lose weight (real or imagined), ranging from supermodels to little girls of elementary school age. We rarely encounter the same kind of tales being told of (or by) men, but as the tragedy of Joseph Kearns serves to remind us, men can also have problems with their body image. It's sad and astonishing to consider a reliable, likable actor like Kearns wasn't content with himself in a similar manner. (If Kearns died today, a tabloid headline might read, "Mr. Wilson: He Died to be Thin!") Most importantly, Kearns's fate was preventable, making his death all the more pointless. By comparison, it's as heart-wrenching a piece of suffering as any Jay North has gone through. (Heck, Jay recently turned 60; so far, he's outlived Kearns by five years, and I suspect he'll live on for many more.)

(Google images)

At any rate, everyone knows the rest of the story. As the producers of Dennis mourned over the loss of Kearns, they scrambled to find his replacement. A handful of episodes later, they obtained the talents of Gale Gordon, who was cast as George's brother, John, and Sara Seegar, who played John's wife, Eloise. For obvious reasons, the writers wrote George and Martha Wilson out of the show, having them move, and John buying his brother's house. Awkwardly, Sylvia Field (Martha) was eased out of the scenario in a rush, much to the disappointment of her co-stars, who initially gave Seegar the "cold shoulder" for taking her place. (Later, they apologized to her, and Seegar understood their behavior was attributed to the passing of Kearns.) Gordon gave his all with typically fine performances from the end of the third season into the fourth, but it was all for naught; he was no Joseph Kearns. (He did resemble the Mr. Wilson of the comic strip more than his predecessor.) Combined with the lead kid actors' maturing and declining ratings, CBS canceled Dennis, the last new episode airing July 7, 1963.

Considering people haven't stopped watching Dennis fifty-plus years after its network debut, it can't be easily dismissed as an artifact from the golden age of television. There's more to it than nostalgia, but I won't deny that's the driving factor. Arguably, it's as close as television ever got to a "squeaky clean" comedy; even then, the world young Dennis and company lived in wasn't perfect, but a lot of it must look remarkable to modern audiences in these economically, politically, and socially questionable times. It's best described as a weekly, watered-down version of Tom Sawyer in a contemporary (late '50s-early '60s) setting, as fabricated by Screen Gems. While each show was "fabricated," it was done by writers, directors, actors, and other personnel who knew their respective crafts well. Some episodes worked better than others, but even the worst ones had a few chuckles.

Unfortunately, the two people who contributed most to the popularity of Dennis were also overwhelmed by it. The untimely death of Joseph Kearns affected Jay North deeply years after the fact. It would only be until the 1990s when North came to grips with all the pent-up emotion over the sinister events that occurred in his childhood, with help from Jeannie Russell and Paul Petersen ("Jeff Stone" on The Donna Reed Show). Today, it's safe to say both North and Kearns (rest his soul) are no longer menaced by Dennis.

NEXT TIME ON... COBWEB TV!

(NBCUniversal)

Keeping it trivial...

R.A.M.'67