A recent episode of the resurrected Jonathan Creek attracted some criticism for its plot structure. The audience was shown the crime and the culprit at the beginning, the storyline then followed Creek as he solved the case and fingered the wrongdoer. Of course, aficionados of American detective show 'Columbo' would have been familiar with the device. Indeed, they would probably have interpreted it as an homage to their favourite show.
Between 1968 and 2003, 'Columbo' played in 44 countries on 80 networks. Arguably, it is the best cop show ever produced.
At its height in the 1970s, competition on US TV was fierce. 'Kojak', 'McCloud', 'Starsky & Hutch', 'Cannon' - the networks were brimful of idiosyncratic policemen (and in the case of Angie Dickinson's 'Police Woman', policewomen). Yet somehow, the short, swarthy fellow in the decrepit trenchcoat stood apart. All these series pivoted on the titular character, there was just something more endearing about Lt. Columbo, something more empathetic and believable. Perhaps it was Peter Falk's insistence on providing his own wardrobe that made the difference.
Interestingly, the unmistakable Falk was the third actor to play the role. The character was created by William Link, who saw the detective as heavy set, advanced in years and grey haired. Which is why New York actor Bert Freed was handed the part, seven years before Falk. When Link and his partner Richard Levinson took the concept to the live stage, they cast 70 year old Thomas Mitchell in the lead. Even when their idea was eventually picked up by NBC, they wanted Lee J Cobb or Bing Crosby to star. It was only when they found neither was available, that they settled on the much younger Falk. By such accidents are legends born.
From the start, 'Columbo' - both the character and show - intentionally defied tradition and expectation. Every episode was feature length (around 100 minutes) and was often broadcast in a specially created slot called 'The Midweek Movie Mystery'. What's more, it wasn't uncommon for the detective to make his appearance halfway through the story. Even today, a script using this mechanism would quickly find its way to the waste-paper basket. The movies 'Dirty Harry' and 'The French Connection' were enormous hits in the 70s, influencing shows like 'Kojak' to be tough and aggressive. Not 'Columbo'. Although there is always an on-screen murder, graphic violence is never an element. More specifically, Lt. Columbo is never seen to carry a gun. These are not action shows, they're games of cat and mouse, intense intellectual battles between scheming, venal killers and a shambolic Italian police officer with savant-like detection abilities.
Although I was a massive fan of 'Starsky & Hutch', I watched 'Columbo' throughout my childhood because my dad was an enthusiast. However, it's only in later years that I've come to appreciate the programme's unique subtleties. There's a very smart class battle running through the format. In his wreck of a car, cheap suit, twice-smoked cigars and stubble, Lt. Columbo is a blue-collar, downtown detective. Clearly the Los Angeles Police Department don't lavish an enormous salary on the man (most unfair when you consider his hit rate). But his adversaries are the cream of LA society. The Californian setting is key here, because it sets Columbo against the ostentatious and wealthy citizens of Hollywood and Bel Air. Composers, producers, TV executives, hoteliers, gem dealers and plastic surgeons have all seen their murderous activities fall apart under the razor-edged inspections of the grubby cop they unfailingly see as their inferior.
Herein lies the enduring appeal of the character. We've already seen the dastardly deed, now we can get behind our everyman hero as he takes down the over-proud, the snobbish and the indulgently greedy.
It only takes a couple of episodes for the viewer to feel they know Lt. Columbo intimately. As with Mrs. Mainwaring and Mrs. Daley, we never see his wife. But we hear so much about her, we can easily picture their run-of-the-mill home, bloodhound asleep on the rug, meatballs bubbling on the stove. Falk also imbues the character with a glow of decency. Always polite (even the murderer is 'sir' or 'madam'), never less than apologetic as he wheedles a deception out of suspect, we know he's on the side of the wronged and the unfortunate, without him ever having to say so. In short, it's impossible not to like Columbo. If you were ever unfortunate enough to be done-in, to make way for a rival lover or open the gate to an unearned fortune, you'd want this guy on the case.
Towards the end of his life, Peter Falk suffered with dementia. He became so ill, he had no recollection of making this wonderful TV series. Which is particularly poignant and sad, as millions of people across the world will never forget it.
Between 1968 and 2003, 'Columbo' played in 44 countries on 80 networks. Arguably, it is the best cop show ever produced.
At its height in the 1970s, competition on US TV was fierce. 'Kojak', 'McCloud', 'Starsky & Hutch', 'Cannon' - the networks were brimful of idiosyncratic policemen (and in the case of Angie Dickinson's 'Police Woman', policewomen). Yet somehow, the short, swarthy fellow in the decrepit trenchcoat stood apart. All these series pivoted on the titular character, there was just something more endearing about Lt. Columbo, something more empathetic and believable. Perhaps it was Peter Falk's insistence on providing his own wardrobe that made the difference.
Interestingly, the unmistakable Falk was the third actor to play the role. The character was created by William Link, who saw the detective as heavy set, advanced in years and grey haired. Which is why New York actor Bert Freed was handed the part, seven years before Falk. When Link and his partner Richard Levinson took the concept to the live stage, they cast 70 year old Thomas Mitchell in the lead. Even when their idea was eventually picked up by NBC, they wanted Lee J Cobb or Bing Crosby to star. It was only when they found neither was available, that they settled on the much younger Falk. By such accidents are legends born.
From the start, 'Columbo' - both the character and show - intentionally defied tradition and expectation. Every episode was feature length (around 100 minutes) and was often broadcast in a specially created slot called 'The Midweek Movie Mystery'. What's more, it wasn't uncommon for the detective to make his appearance halfway through the story. Even today, a script using this mechanism would quickly find its way to the waste-paper basket. The movies 'Dirty Harry' and 'The French Connection' were enormous hits in the 70s, influencing shows like 'Kojak' to be tough and aggressive. Not 'Columbo'. Although there is always an on-screen murder, graphic violence is never an element. More specifically, Lt. Columbo is never seen to carry a gun. These are not action shows, they're games of cat and mouse, intense intellectual battles between scheming, venal killers and a shambolic Italian police officer with savant-like detection abilities.
Although I was a massive fan of 'Starsky & Hutch', I watched 'Columbo' throughout my childhood because my dad was an enthusiast. However, it's only in later years that I've come to appreciate the programme's unique subtleties. There's a very smart class battle running through the format. In his wreck of a car, cheap suit, twice-smoked cigars and stubble, Lt. Columbo is a blue-collar, downtown detective. Clearly the Los Angeles Police Department don't lavish an enormous salary on the man (most unfair when you consider his hit rate). But his adversaries are the cream of LA society. The Californian setting is key here, because it sets Columbo against the ostentatious and wealthy citizens of Hollywood and Bel Air. Composers, producers, TV executives, hoteliers, gem dealers and plastic surgeons have all seen their murderous activities fall apart under the razor-edged inspections of the grubby cop they unfailingly see as their inferior.
Herein lies the enduring appeal of the character. We've already seen the dastardly deed, now we can get behind our everyman hero as he takes down the over-proud, the snobbish and the indulgently greedy.
It only takes a couple of episodes for the viewer to feel they know Lt. Columbo intimately. As with Mrs. Mainwaring and Mrs. Daley, we never see his wife. But we hear so much about her, we can easily picture their run-of-the-mill home, bloodhound asleep on the rug, meatballs bubbling on the stove. Falk also imbues the character with a glow of decency. Always polite (even the murderer is 'sir' or 'madam'), never less than apologetic as he wheedles a deception out of suspect, we know he's on the side of the wronged and the unfortunate, without him ever having to say so. In short, it's impossible not to like Columbo. If you were ever unfortunate enough to be done-in, to make way for a rival lover or open the gate to an unearned fortune, you'd want this guy on the case.
Towards the end of his life, Peter Falk suffered with dementia. He became so ill, he had no recollection of making this wonderful TV series. Which is particularly poignant and sad, as millions of people across the world will never forget it.
