Doctors' Private Lives (1978)

Network: CBS
Original Airdate:March 20th, 1978

During promotion for the soapy telefilm Doctors' Private Lives, the film’s star, John Gavin said, “Barbara [Anderson] plays my wife, and Donna [Mills] plays a widow with whom I become involved. But only physically and emotionally. It doesn’t go any deeper than that.”

If I could insert the sound of a car braking right here I would. As is stands, I just have to giggle at Gavin’s comedic response to starring in one of the most overwrought melodramas I’ve seen in some time. In his defense, Gavin does not play it tongue in cheek during the film, and it’s all the more entertaining for the straight-faced, and genuine performances from an amiable cast of wonderfully familiar faces.

And anyway, Gavin had me at Donna Mills.

Gavin is Dr. Jeffrey Latimer, a gorgeous and successful professional married to the equally sublime Frances (Barbara Anderson looking ridiculously divine), who is just as ambitious with saving the world as he is with saving lives. The one hiccup in an otherwise perfect relationship is that they have no children. This obstacle doesn’t seem like that much of an issue, until Jeffrey embarks on an extramarital affair with Dr. Beth Demery (the perfectly perfect Donna Mills), a widow who can’t fight her attraction to Jeffrey (I don’t blame her). Strangely, and maybe sadly, Jeffrey loves his wife, but has an affair just because he can. The scoundrel (and he's our hero)!

While all of this is going down (insert dirty joke here), Dr. Mike Wise (Ed Nelson, dusting off his Peyton Place dialog delivery) is dealing with a divorce and the generation gap, which is driving his son Kenny (Leigh McCloskey) away from medical school. Kenny has an adorable girlfriend named Sheila (Robin Mattson), who quickly throws him over for his dear old dad, creating even more tension in the house. And in-between all of this, people die, there’s blackmail and an airplane full of Korean orphans (!) crashes! If that’s not an overflow of awesome, I am not sure I know what is.

Yessir, from the ski slopes to the operating room to the bedroom, Doctors' Private Lives is one of those glamorous 1970s telefilms that I live for. It’s got philandering, conniving, and well to do professionals who wear the best clothes, drink the best wine and sometimes deliver the best lines. Although, admittedly, I was surprised to see it was released in 1978, only about one month before Dallas premiered, setting the bar for high drama. Dallas is far more nuanced and complex, but Doctors makes the best of what is has, and what is has is pretty good. Along your journey through soapland, you’ll catch John Randolph as Mike’s gregarious uncle, Elinor Donahue as Mike’s grumpy ex, and Anne-Marie Martin as a sexy nurse secretly romancing her friend’s man. And for the record, Randy Powell, who went on to Dallas, plays one of the worst extortionists ever. That's how you do it!

And I’m apparently not the only one who feels this way. Doctors' Private Lives was successful enough that a 4-part followup mini-series aired the following year, featuring much of the same cast, and the addition of another familiar Dallas face, William Smithers, who played the contemptible Jeremy Windell. It makes the whole affair feel full circle (emphasis on affair).

And remember, in an era of car chases and gun fights, Gavin points out, “[There’s] no violence in this show, except in the bedroom.”

‘Nuff said.

Classic TV Detectives Blogathon: Blacke's Magic (1986)

This review is part of the Classic TV Detectives Blogathon hosted by the Classic TV Blog Association. Check out the other great posts here.

When this blogathon was first proposed, I racked my brain trying to think of interesting detectives to write about. There are certainly many. But, I ended up with the non-detective detective show (of which there are also many!) Blacke’s Magic because it was a program I hadn’t seen a lot of people talking about, and because it gave me a reason to sit down once again with the pilot movie. And any excuse that gets me on the couch with Hal Linden is good for me!

Blacke’s Magic made its debut as a made for television movie on NBC on January 5th, 1986. It was a midseason replacement show, put together by Peter Fischer, Richard Levinson and William Link, the trio behind the much loved Murder, She Wrote, which had made its impressive debut in 1984 (and you probably also recognize Levinson and Link as the madly brilliant duo behind Columbo). In many ways, the formula replicates Murder, She Wrote: A non-detective celebrity figure finds a new profession investigating various crimes committed around them. However, whereas Jessica Fletcher worked a sort of intuitive magic solving seemingly unsolvable crimes, Alexander Blacke (Hal Linden looking fit and fine) employs his learned tricks as a way to turn a whodunit into a howdunit!

Linden said he had rejected many television series offers before he decided to hit the small screen again as the retired magician crime fighter. He remarked that the sophisticated Alexander Blacke appealed to him because unlike the good-natured and responsive Barney Miller, Alexander was not just reacting to everyone else. He seemed larger than life, and that enticed Linden, who noticed a hint of Broadway in the charming Alexander.

Also, this opportunity gave Linden a chance to work with the great and oh-so-lovable Harry Morgan, whose last series role had been on the unsuccessful MASH spinoff AfterMASH. Morgan was actually not in the market for a weekly show, but said that after his first wife died in 1985 he wanted to put himself back out there. The combination of these two greats, backed by Levinson and Link, directed by the great John Llewellyn Moxey, and featuring a tasty premise full of magic and wonder should have been just as magical for the audience as it was on the show (the actual tricks were orchestrated by Doug Henning’s “magic designer” Jim Steinmeyer). And, it’s a damn shame that Blacke’s Magic never got a chance to fully explore its potential.

Newspaper promo for Blacke's Magic

Many critics dubbed Blacke’s Magic the new Banacek, and that is not too far off the mark. And it was also part of the problem. Banacek took on some serious mind-boggling crimes, but sometimes the stories were overly confusing (even if George Peppard werked those turtlenecks). The same could be said here, as the pilot movie, while certainly engaging and fun, throws too many rabbits into its hat, confusing the mystery and heart of the story.

The pilot episode, which is titled Breathing Room, starts off with Blacke performing a highly anticipated escape act, only to end up all wet and soon retired. Bored and unfocused, Blacke is invited to a magician's conference where he is due to get an award. Jetting off to San Francisco he soon runs into one of his magician friends, the Great Gasparini (!), played by Ceasare Danova with an extra dose of suave. Gasparini's beautiful daughter, Carla (Kathleen Beller) is dating a hot new magician named Michael (Joseph Cali from Grease, and The Lonely Lady and my heart). Michael basically plagiarizes one of Gasparini’s tricks, much to the dismay of the great suave one! Before you know it, Gasparini is taking one last… you got it… gasp at his infamous dunked coffin bit, only this time he plans to stay underwater one more hour than normal. Everything seems to be going wonderfully, but soon after Gasparini is released from the depths of the hotel’s pool, it quickly become apparent that he’s been shot… from inside the coffin?!?

I know! Crazy, right? 

Luckily for the viewing audience, Alexander's daughter (Claudia Christian) is dating a gorgeous homicide detective played by Mark Shera (lucky girl!), who is so baffled by the murder that he invites Alexander to help him solve the crime… on the down-low of course!

And that’s just about half of the story! Early on Morgan shows up as Leonard Blacke, Alex’s scoundrel of a father. He is an aging con artist who is equally as bored by his retired life and he soon joins Alexander in San Francisco, using his con-style tactics to, well, not get too much information. But Morgan looks like he’s having a blast.

Airing on a Sunday night against a small screen remake of The Defiant Ones, Blacke’s Magic was met with mixed reviews. Certainly, it was an imperfect pilot film – Morgan needed a stronger presence, and the story is buried under subplots and superfluous characters. Sure, we need red herrings, but with abused housewives, con artist illusionists, devilish doctors and hotel managers it feels like the telefilm was trying to cram a whole season into their first two-hour time slot!

However, as a cozy mystery series, ala the aforementioned Murder, She Wrote, it doesn’t get much more charming or comfy than Blacke’s Magic. This is one of those shows where you can simply sit back and let the actors do the driving. It’s an inviting cast, and everyone from Maud Adams to Tricia O’Neil to David Huddleson bring a little bit of their own ol’ black(e) magic of awesome to the screen (trivia: O’Neil was also featured in the Murder, She Wrote pilot telefilm and got her start with the Fischer/Levinson/Link trio all the way back in seventies in an Ellery Queen episode and in another pilot TVM titled Charlie Cobb: Nice Night for a Hanging). It’s really a shame that Blacke’s Magic only ran for 12 episodes before it did its final disappearing act, because I think the series had some great tricks up its sleeve.

Plus it had this wonderful opening:

TV Spot Tuesday: Then Came Bronson (1969)

Like the character Jim Bronson, Then Came Bronson's creator, Denne Bart Petitclerc was a newspaperman, and someone who enjoyed observing people. And also like the enigmatic Bronson, Petitclerc was a bit of nomad (although he had a full family in tow), and dropped journalism to work in film. Bronson became Petitclerc’s way of expressing how youthful late 60s America was in a desperate search for itself, and for many the character spoke to young people in ways no other series had (one commenter on IMDb said that the show symbolized what it was like to be free).

NBC, along with the other two networks, were quickly becoming aware of a new demographic. The audience to attract came between the ages of 10 – 31, and the networks were trying out a variety of shows, including The Mod Squad and The New People in the hopes they could create hip programming that spoke to a generation in the middle of a war, the hippie movement and other late 60s issues that were particularly youth orientated.

And, not only was this type of with-it prime time scheduling something new, the TV movie pilot was also a fairly novel phenomena (1966’s Fame is the Name of the Game was the first pilot TVM, spawning The Name of the Game in 1968) and, indeed, tele-films in general were still a fairly revolutionary device. Bronson, which originally aired on March 24th, 1969, was unique in other ways too - it was quiet and almost plot-less, featuring a handsome Michael Parks as Bronson, a man ripped apart by his friend's suicide (Martin Sheen in an early role). Bronson realizes that living in a 9-to-5-monkey-suit-world is not for him, and he hits the road with the mysterious young woman who refuses to give her name (Bonnie Bedelia in an intriguing early role). Starting in San Francisco, there are lots of overhead shots of winding roads and roaring oceans. The couple was at home sleeping in the wild and although Bronson had a general destination (New Orleans), the trip seemed to be about getting lost in nowhere and enjoying the ride. At points the TVM even takes on a documentary vibe.

Then Came Bronson was hard to categorize in a pithy synopsis, but critics and audiences loved it, as it marked a departure from the regular programming. To give it a bite-sized promotion, some called it Route 66 for a new generation. Parks, who was already a well-established character actor, also provided some music for the series as well (he was a recording artist, and also did a bit of singing in the 1977 TVM Escape from Bogen County).

Because the pilot TVM was so well received, NBC dug deep into their pockets with high hopes for the series. They ran an encore performance of the pilot on August 2nd, to remind audiences what they fell in love with earlier that year. Producer Robert Justman (who had previously worked on the more overtly symbol-ridden Star Trek) said that despite the gorgeous camera work, the goal of the series did not have much to do with technical prowess, and commented that it didn’t matter if the sound was off or something didn’t work out. Bronson was about life, and that’s what they were trying to capture. Unfortunately, Bronson could not sustain its audience and was cancelled after one season. Ironically, part of the problem was that the audience they wanted to attract were actually living outdoors, some much like Bronson, and not watching much television. It was considered a disaster for NBC because of the expense of the gorgeous cinematography and on-location shoots. But many still recall the series fondly, and the pilot movie has aged amazingly well (I have yet to see the series). It's definitely worth a watch or re-watch.

NBC put together this stunning promo for the TVM:

Trenchcoat in Paradise (1989)

 Network: CBS 
Original Air Date: October 18th, 1989 

In an interview, Dirk Benedict excitedly explained one of the reasons why he loved making Trenchcoat in Paradise. He mused that it was a departure from the more ensemble-type programming he was associated with and said, “Trenchcoat is the first show in which I’ll be playing the lead.” In a different interview he expressed similar excitement about the potential of the hopeful series and his part in it. Benedict explained the potential charm: “It’s a cross between Columbo and the Rockford Files… It’s the first full-dimensional character I got to play.” (Note: Remember when I went cuckoo nutso over Benedict playing Columbo in a British stage production? Looks like he got an early start at working out his version of the great detective)

Benedict also likened the show to Magnum P.I., which was a series that CBS was using as a springboard to promote the Hawaii-set Trenchcoat. Hoping it would make a nice replacement for the much beloved and highly rated detective series, the network tested the blue waters with a pilot movie. Unfortunately, despite some wonderful moments that make Trenchcoat seem like it could be an appealing series, the TVM inevitably falls flat.

Dirk Benedict is Eddie Mazada, an 80s gumshoe lost to the world of the old 1940s sleuths who enjoy a challenging mystery, but prefer a tasty cigar. Working the streets of New Jersey, Eddie is (somewhat politely) run out of town by the local mobsters. He's is in a good place though because he’s got a few bucks and nothing to tie him down (it’s established that he’s divorced and an absentee father). So, if you’ve got to start fresh, why not do it on the sandy beaches of Hawaii? Luck seems to really be on his side, because as soon as he lands, he manages to buy a detective agency that already has a nice contact list, and a super gorgeous assistant who prefers bikinis to office attire.

And of course, since we only have 90 minutes, Eddie is instantly thrown into the high profile case revolving around the murder of a wealthy and influential land developer. While the developer’s partner, John Hollander (Bruce Dern) seems the most likely to have committed the crime, the rest of the suspects are far curvier, and seem to generate more interest from Eddie Mazda! There’s Claire (Kim Zimmer), Hollander’s lonely wife. Her five percent ownership of the company creates a swing vote between John and his recently deceased associate. And then there’s Hollander’s sister, Suzanna (Michelle Phillips), a woman who vehemently opposes any land development. And finally there is John’s sexy assistant Lisa (Catherine Oxenberg), who is working her way up the corporate ladder by taking her boardroom meetings into the bedroom (I always love writing that!).

That’s quite a lot to take in, and while Trenchcoat is a mouthful of mystery, it’s not too hard to play along with the disheveled Mazada, a man who refuses to drop his dark suits and trenchcoats on the island. Essentially, this is an update on the classic noir film, with a strong dose of fish-out-of-water antics to bring a few smiles to the game, thanks to Benedict’s indefatigable charm. Unfortunately, neither fully works.

Directed with a gorgeous eye by Martha Coolidge (Valley Girl), and written with a sometimes-charming edge by Tom Dempsey, it’s difficult to say exactly what went wrong. I loved the idea of taking the tropes of the noir, and turning them upside down by placing the protagonist in a light (and sometimes lighthearted) space of volleyball, surfing and luaus, but Trenchcoat never fully forms into anything more than a reasonable time killer.

I do love that Benedict sort of rejects his days as Face from the A-Team by playing down his good looks. This is about a down on his luck, but basically optimistic working class Joe who needed a fresh start, and in that respect, Dirk makes Mazada an easily relatable character. The other pleasant surprise was Sydney Walsh as Mona, Eddie’s smart and sexy assistant. Her side story about the missing surfboard is one of the highlights of the tele-film.

Also, it was weird, interesting and absolutely perfect timing that I just watched Rubdown, because Michelle Phillips and Catherine Oxenberg go femme fatale in that TVM as well (Of the two films, I’m more partial to Rubdown... Sorry Dirk).

Battles: The Murder That Wouldn't Die (1980)

Network: NBC
Original Air Date: March 9th, 1980

What the wut?

Those were the words swimming through my head as I watched the pilot TVM Battles: The Murder That Wouldn’t Die. After an energetic opening credits montage, Battles settles into a convoluted mystery surrounding an almost 40 year old rape case that left one of the accused dead and a lot of unanswered questions. William Battles (William Conrad, looking positively slender in comparison to his Cannon years) is an ex-Los Angeles detective who has moved to Hawaii to help out his ailing brother Allan (Edward Binns). Battles has taken a post as head of security at Hawaii State University and gets in some overtime as one of the university’s football team coaches (!). Unfortunately, he’s in town for a whole day before his brother is killed in a suspicious car accident. It would seem Allan reopened the 1940s rape case and got just a tad too close to the culprit. Now it’s up to brother Battles to follow in his sibling’s footsteps and solve the crime.

What’s most surprising about this synopsis is that I was able to write it out coherently. Battles is one slapdash, choppy little movie with some misplaced energy and a whole lot of confusion. The cast is great, the locations are gorgeous, and there is definitely a gold nugget of a story somewhere inside this 90-minute mess, but none of it comes together in any real way. Apparently, NBC felt something similar because although six more episodes of Battles were written, they never got the green light.

While Conrad is the star, a rag-tag group associated with the university supports him. There is Allan’s daughter Shelby (Robin Mattson), who just knows her dad was murdered (although she cheers up a little too quickly after the fact), and there’s her feathery headed boyfriend Deacon (Lane Caudell), whose creepy aggression disappears by his second scene, and there’s Tuli (Tommy Aguilar), an island native and a con man (and totally adorable), and finally there is Dean Mary Phillips (Marj Dusay), a woman with a murky but intriguing past relationship to Battles. The idea for the series was that this group would get involved with the police on seemingly unsolvable cases. However, they show a general lack of taste in their crime-fighting skills, as noted by their recreation of the events that lead to the original rape! Sheesh.

The pilot’s roster of guest stars is fantastic, if misused. Jonathan Hillerman, Jose Ferrer, Mike Kellin and the great Don Porter (aka Gidget’s dad and all around cool actor) make the most of the material, but are only offered one or two moments to look suspicious, and aren’t given a whole heck of a lot else to do otherwise. Produced and co-written by the legendary Glen A. Larson, Battles appeared in the midst of a storm of Larson productions, including another unsold pilot titled Nightside with Doug McClure. But around those two misfires, Larson was also working behind the scenes on The Misadventures of Sheriff Lobo, B.J. and the Bear and the critically derided Galactica 1980 (btw, I kind of liked 1980… screw it!). Also, Larson was the co-creator of Magnum P.I., which also debuted in 1980. Busy man. Perhaps in all this chaos, no one was paying proper attention to Battles, because what is lost is mostly in the details, and a sharper eye may have been able to fix some of the problems.

One a positive note (and maybe it’s the Library-Science-graduate-student-to-be in me), I thought the plotline that followed the destruction of archival materials was pretty dang fascinating. Battles used old newspapers to track the original crime (and actually solve it), but found that most of the documentation had either been destroyed in an earlier fire at the newspaper’s headquarters or were recently ruined via a torching of the microfiche records at the college (how could they?!?). To put the pieces together, Battles and crew track the information through old-fashioned footwork, the somewhat guarded spoken history as told by those at the club the night of the rape, and through locating a man so obsessed with the crime that he kept every single newspaper that covered the story. It was research done old-school style, and what can I say, I enjoyed watching the process.

The flashback footage from the 1940s was shot in black and white and clips of the Andrew Sisters performing Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy were inserted into the scene (these scene were lifted from the 1941 film Buck Privates). Turns out, March of 1980 was a big month for the Andrews Sisters because they were also featured in the PBS documentary G.I. Jive, which aired on the 15th. Battles, which ran under NBC’s The Big Event, went directly up against the TV movie premiere of the remake of Amber Waves, starring Dennis Weaver and Kurt Russell. Waves got most of the press and it would seem Battles faded quietly into the background and without much fuss. Conrad came back with a short-lived Nero Wolfe series before landing on his chubby feet with the extremely popular Jake and the Fatman. So, it’s all good, even if Battles is unfortunately not so great.