The following essay is
Thrilling Days of Yesteryear’s
contribution
to the Sleuthathon,
hosted by Movies, Silently from March 16-17 and showcasing great movie/TV gumshoes and other crime
solvers. For a list of the participating
blogs and the subjects under discussion, click here.
“Cause PIs are doomed, man,” Doc
continuing his earlier thought, “you could’ve seen it coming for years, in the
movies, on the tube. Once there was all
these great old PIs—Philip Marlowe, Sam Spade, the shamus of shamuses Johnny
Staccato, always smarter and more professional than the cops, always end up
solvin the crime while the cops are followin wrong leads and getting in the
way.”
--Thomas
Pynchon, Inherent Vice (2009)
The October 26, 1959 issue of
Time magazine proclaimed the 1959-60 TV season as “the year of the
private eye” by featuring boob tube investigators Philip Marlowe (Phil Carey),
Richard Diamond (David Janssen), Peter Gunn (Craig Stevens), Stu Bailey (Efrem
Zimbalist, Jr.) and Perry Mason (Raymond Burr) on its front cover.
The inside story, “These Gunns for Hire,” addressed
the industry’s fascination with the crime genre (it was, at that time, second
only to the western in airtime hours) and pointed out that four detective shows
were debuting that season—
Staccato,
Philip Marlowe,
Bourbon
Street Beat and
Hawaiian Eye.
Of the four, only
Eye would manage to stick
around for more than a single season (though two of the characters from
Beat,
Rex Randolph and Kenny Madison, later migrated to
77 Sunset Strip and
Surfside
6, respectively).
But no one’s
ever referred to
Eye’s Tom Lopaka as “the shamus of shamuses,” as evidenced by
the above excerpt from Pynchon’s critically-acclaimed novel.
Created by Dick Berg,
Staccato—or
Johnny Staccato (more on
the two names in a bit)—followed in the wake of the previous season’s
successful
Peter Gunn, which starred Craig Stevens as the titular
detective.
Part of the appeal of the
Gunn
series was its protagonist’s base of operations: Pete hung out at Mother’s, a
hipster jazz club where his gal, Edie Hart (Lola Albright), was the resident
chanteuse.
Staccato upped the ante
on be-bop cool: the main character of John Staccato was a musician—jazz pianist
by trade—and not someone just watching from the sidelines.
This didn’t seem to impress the author of the
Time article, who sort of dismissed
Mr. S as “only Gunn at the piano, in a minor key.”
In his defense, Peter Gunn had far more
staying power than his Manhattan counterpart; Gunn would earn his fees on both
NBC and ABC for three seasons…Johnny also made the rounds at both networks but
disappeared in the first year.
 |
| Noir icon Elisha Cook, Jr. plays a down-and-out drunk in the Cassavetes-directed "Evil"; John uses him again in another outing he helmed entitled "Solomon"...but as much as I love Cook he's a bit miscast as a criminal attorney. |
Although the series was championed by a few critics at the
time of its original run, its star—actor and budding independent auteur John
Cassavetes—hated the show; he accepted the assignment only to pay off a few
debts and to finance his first feature film,
Shadows (1959), which at that time was being edited into its second
“commercial” version.
Shadows was released to theaters
shortly after
Staccato premiered in the fall, and Cassavetes made a
concerted effort to break his contract.
After NBC retitled the series
Johnny Staccato (over the star’s
objections), John stepped up his determination to escape the series by publicly
criticizing the network at every opportunity (for example, he vociferously
objected when one episode, “The Wild Reed,” was shifted from its scheduled
Thanksgiving airing to a later date).
The National Broadcasting Company eventually said “no mas” and cancelled
the program after twenty-seven episodes…the bulk of which were repeated on ABC
from March to September 1960.
 |
| This show had me at Charles McGraw. (From the first of five episodes directed by star Cassavetes, "Murder for Credit.") |
The series’ premiere, “The Naked Truth,” on September 10,
1959 immediately set the tone for what would eventually be heralded years after
its cancellation as a show that was stylishly ahead of its time.
The episode begins with an amazing two-minute
sequence (sans dialogue) as we are introduced to John Staccato and his environs
at a MacDougal Street hangout, Waldo’s, in Greenwich Village—a combo featuring
Pete Candoli (trumpet), Barney Kessel (guitar), Shelly Mann (drums), Red
Mitchell (bass) and Red Norvo (vibes) is the only thing heard on the
soundtrack, with Cassavetes’ Staccato accompanying the musicians on piano.
Johnny is waved away by a phone call, and he
relinquishes his seat at the Steinway to future Oscar winner John
Williams.
He finishes his call, and
collects his gun at the hatcheck (throughout the series, the girl working that
concession is identified by the characters only as “Hatcheck”—sexist much?),
and back from the commercial break he informs us:
Why did I leave the Village that
night? Because I put my musician's union
card in mothballs five years ago...when it dawned on me that my talent was an
octave lower than my ambition…so while my heart is still on the bandstand, I
pay for the groceries away from the piano...and when I get a business call
these days even at two in the morning, I answer it…
It was never satisfactorily explained how Staccato was able
to legitimately continue playing at Waldo’s with his “union card in mothballs”…but
it was also a mystery as to why West Coast musicians like Kessel, Mann,
Mitchell, et al., were hanging out in a Greenwich Village jazz club unless
Waldo had some deep pockets to fly those cats in on a regular basis.
(Okay, the show was filmed in L.A.—I’m just
picking nits.)
In “Truth,” Johnny’s jam
session has been interrupted by a record producer (Robert H. Harris), who asks
him to investigate a matter involving his newest sensation, Freddie Tate
(Michael Landon).
Freddie’s being
blackmailed by a
Confidential-like
publisher named Templar (Stacy Harris), who responds to Staccato’s request to
lay off Freddie by having his goon (Nick Cravat) icepick him while John enjoys
a sauna.
Staccato cashes in on one of his
nine lives, however, when The Goon stabs and kills Freddie by mistake (hard to
see in all that steam).
There’s not much
room left for further plot or nuance (the
Staccato show was a half-hour, at a
time when this was not uncommon); both Templar and his henchman attempt to take
down Johnny but he manages to kill both of them…and winds up with Templar’s
secretary (Ruta Lee) as his victory trophy.
Every once in a while I wonder why
I went into this business…then I remind myself: Waldo—he rotates the
talent...he hires the greatest musicians in the world...I have low
overhead...and I meet the most interesting people in the world right here...
 |
| Mary Richards and Phyllis Lindstrom! Mary Tyler Moore guest-starred in the episode "The Mask of Jason" while Cloris Leachman has an acting tour de force in "Solomon." |
Landon (whose long-running stint on
Bonanza would begin two
nights after
Staccato’s premiere) was only one of several future TV faces to
turn up in installments of
Johnny Staccato: Martin Landau plays a composer in “Murder
for Credit” (which also features noir icon Charles McGraw); Elizabeth
Montgomery a temptress in “Tempted”; Norman Fell a blackmailer in “The Man in
the Pit”; Cloris Leachman a pacifist suspected of murder in “Solomon”; and Mary
Tyler Moore a beauty contestant in “The Mask of Jason.”
Cassavetes also used the show to give some of
his friends work: his
Shadows leading
lady, Leila Goldoni, is in “The Poet’s Touch,” as is John’s pal Nick Dennis.
Other Cassavetes cronies include Maurice
McEndree (“An Act of Terror”), Rupert Crosse (“Collector’s Item”), John Marley
(“Double Feature”), Tom Reese/Allen (“The Return”), and Paul Stewart (“The List
of Death”).
Dennis Sallas, also in
Shadows, had a recurring role on
Staccato
as the resident bartender at Waldo’s.
 |
| Who was that lady I saw you with? Nepotism rears its ugly head as Mrs. John Cassavetes (Gena Rowlands) guest stars in "Fly Away, Baby" - a tense episode nicely leavened with some amusing moments. |
The part of Waldo—who I’m guessing couldn’t afford a last
name on account of all that West Coast-to-East Coast airfare—was played by
character great Eduardo Ciannelli.
Both
men shared a wonderful chemistry, similar to a father-and-son relationship; you
can see the evidence of this in “The Only Witness”—not one of the stronger
episodes, but a nice showcase for the two as Waldo shows genuine concern for
Johnny when our hero witnesses the killing of a mobster.
(I always find myself amused by the fact that
Waldo is actually not a fan of jazz—his musical tastes run more towards opera.)
Ciannelli was the only other regular on the
series; though Dennis the bartender and “Hatcheck” were seen infrequently, as
was a stoolie character named “Shad” (played by Frank London).
Unlike
Peter Gunn’s Lieutenant Jacoby,
Johnny Staccato had several contacts on the police force: Sergeant Sully
Sullivan (played by Garry Wahlberg, later of
The Odd Couple and
Quincy)
was seen most frequently, but Johnny also dealt with Sergeant Lou Bacas (J. Pat
O’Malley) and Lieutenant Sam Baker (Wally Baker) on occasion.
All three men worked out of the “16th Precinct”
and Staccato got along quite well with them…with the exception of Sergeant Joe
Gillin (Bert Freed), a hardass who appears in both “A Piece of Paradise” and “Double
Feature” (he works Johnny over while interrogating him in the latter).
 |
| Paul Stewart as a priest? Seriously? I'd be keeping an eye on the collection plate. (From "The List of Death," a nice little character piece that also features Maxine Stuart.) |
The series’ music was supervised by Stanley Wilson but both
of the show’s main themes were composed by Elmer Bernstein; the original
Staccato theme was quite reminiscent of Bernstein’s contribution to
The Man with the Golden Arm (1955) and
was played over these credits:
With the change to “Johnny Staccato,” the credit sequence
featured Cassavetes scampering down a fire escape and then ducking and dodging
in and out of alleys until he breaks a glass window with his firearm and
squeezes off a shot, staring at the audience with a look of terror on his face:
For an actor who didn’t care for the series, Cassavetes
infused Staccato with an ingratiating charisma as well as the wisecracks
essential for any P.I. (asked by a goon if he’s “alone” Johnny snaps: “Why?
Have you got a girl for me?”)
John Staccato had style and an endless
reservoir of cool as he moved through a personal world populated by, in the
words of critic J. Hoberman, “creeps, junkies, and show-biz bottom feeders.”
Staccato gave viewers a look at a endearingly
seedy Manhattan (and had solid noir bona fides, mostly taking place at night
and featuring many actors who worked in the style) as the hero (again, despite
his show being filmed in L.A.) would wander about such familiar sights as the
Bowery, the Deuce and the Polo Grounds (thanks to the second unit folks).
Staccato also allowed Cassavetes to flex his directing muscles…and
I’ll admit somewhat of a bias here (because I love the man’s work) but many of
the episodes he helmed are amongst the strongest in its run.
I’m a fan of “Evil,” an outing in which
Johnny helps a mission director (Lloyd Corrigan) wrest his congregation back
from a charlatan played by Alexander Scourby (the actor’s status as a narrator
of Bible stories kind of made me giggle throughout this), but I also enjoy “Night
of Jeopardy,” where a mobster (
F Troop’s Frank de Kova) gives
Staccato two hours to locate a missing “package” (containing counterfeit
plates) before he and his gang start picking off the folks at Waldo’s.
 |
| More noir influences: movie bad guy Marc Lawrence appears in "The Unwise Men," a Yuletide-themed episode that also features Jack Weston (as a department store Santa) and Marge "Sister Jacqueline" Redmond. |
Other
Staccato favorites include “The
Parents” (Shirley Knight is an old flame of Johnny’s who’s great with child…and
said bundle is going to be bought and sold by a rat bastard played by John
Hoyt), “The Poet’s Touch” (
TDOY fave
Mike Kellin is a riot as a beatnik in this one), and “An Act of Terror”—a genuine
WTF outing about a ventriloquist who hires Johnny to locate his missing wife
(noir and OTR veteran Ted de Corsia is in this one, and June Foray is the voice
of the female dummy).
Toward the end of
the show’s run, the minds behind the show started to get desperate; I thought
there was none worse than “Double Feature” (which trots out the old
doppelganger trope with a hit man who’s a dead ringer for Johnny) but the nadir
is “A Nice Little Town,” an outdated Cold War paranoiac trip that ends
embarrassingly with Cassavetes’ Staccato lecturing the inhabitants of the
titular hamlet.
(“An Angry Young Man” is
also painful…though it does feature character great Sig Ruman, which helps a little.)
 |
| TDOY fave Mike Kellin has one of his wildest roles as a beatnik in "The Poet's Touch"; that's Sylvia Lewis on the left as Mike's fellow counterculture compadre...while Cassavetes demonstrates how not to look directly into the camera. |
At the end of the final episode, “Swinging Long Hair” (a
mildly interesting character piece with George Voskovec as a classical pianist
moonlighting at Waldo’s) both Staccato and Cassavetes appear to have just given
up—“I’ve had it,” he intones in the concluding narration in a show that lets
the bad guy get away (and Johnny intimates someone else will have to collar
him).
Cassavetes would receive critical
plaudits upon the release of
Shadows
and would follow it up with
Too Late
Blues (1961) and
A Child is Waiting (1963)…but
then the realities of being an independent filmmaker became all too apparent
and the actor (in the fashion of Orson Welles) would use the money he made from
appearances in such films as
The Killers
(1964),
The Dirty Dozen (1967) and
Rosemary’s Baby (1968) to finance
productions such as
Faces (1968) and
Husbands (1970).
(I’ll never forget tuning into Me-TV one
night and seeing John turn up in “The Peacemaker,” a repeat of
Voyage
to the Bottom of the Sea.)
The only remnant of the show was a pulp novel tie-in
published in 1960 and written by Frank Kane (under the pseudonym Frank Boyd), a
one-time OTR scribe who penned scripts for such series as
The Shadow,
Gang
Busters and
Mr. Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons.
Fans of the series collected and traded 16mm copies
and videotaped bootlegs, and even
SCTV paid homage to the program with a spoof
entitled
Vic Arpeggio (played by Joe Flaherty), whose protagonist was a
saxophonist who P.I.’d as a sideline until his musical career got back on
track.
But
Johnny Staccato was resurrected from
the dead when the cable network Trio featured it as one of several series repeats
under its
Brilliant But Cancelled umbrella (a DVD collection of “BBC” crime
shows also featured a
Staccato episode, “Tempted”).
Timeless Media Factory released the entire
series to DVD in October of 2010; I don’t know if the better-than-usual visual
quality of these shows (I love the Timeless folks, but oftentimes they have to
make do with the tools that they’ve got) is a result of the program’s Trio
exposure but I was really impressed with the solid presentation on disc.
It’s a show that you need to make an
acquaintance with if you’re only familiar with just its reputation.
The last word comes from Pynchon’s
Inherent Vice:
“Yeah, but nowadays it's all you see
anymore is cops, the tube is saturated with fucking cop shows, just being
regular guys, only tryin to do their job, folks, no more threat to nobody's
freedom than some dad in a sitcom. Right.
Get the viewer population so cop-happy
they're beggin to be run in. Good-bye
Johnny Staccato, welcome and while you're at it please kick my door down, Steve
McGarrett. Meantime out here in the real
world most of us private flatfoots can’t even make the rent.”
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