1. If you're going to commit murder in Los Angeles, don't do it on Columbo's watch. Don't do it when an episode of Columbo is being filmed, or rather when the action of an episode is taking place in the fictional world.
2. If you're going to be on an episode of Columbo, don't kill anyone. Be a bit role. Be a waiter or a barman or a secretary or a construction site stalwart. Live out your life peaceably.
3. If you absolutely must commit the terrible sin of murder, kill somebody poor or irrelevant. Middle class even. Columbo don't care one damned hoot about blue collar stiffs.
4. It should be noted that Columbo is a fictional character. But perhaps the illusion of Columbo reduces homicides in LA among the fratres ignorantes, the sorts of people – and surprising their number – who believe Sherlock Holmes was an actual historical figure too.
The Television Will Not Be Revolutionized."
Showing posts with label Columbo criticism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Columbo criticism. Show all posts
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Monday, July 6, 2015
Crime Detection Tips.
For all his canny and uncanny intuitions, Phil Columbo could solve the crimes a lot easier than people think.* Any and every time a murder occurs, he interviews those eccentric individuals who happen to be close to the victim. Strange satellites orbiting the corpse. As soon as Columbo finds his investigation being unduly challenged or perversely obstructed, even hindered, by one of those people close to the deceased, he has his man –– or woman.
Oftentimes it's a woman.
Who in real life would enthusiastically challenge the assumptions of the homicide detective on duty? Who would painstakingly try to lead the bumbling slewfoot agley? If you were innocent you'd stay out of it wouldn't you. You wouldn't want to take up valuable time out of your life getting involved in morbidity. You'd get on with the job of living life. If Columbo asked you something requiring your personal conjecture about the circumstances of the crime, you would shrug and say "I dunno. Whaddaya want. Christ sake you're the cop not me babe." You would not go to unusual lengths to conspicuously try to lead the police detective lieutenant off on a wild goose chase inducing him to believe a particular, often quite far-fetched, hypothesis. The only person who would waste time and energy doing that would be a very guilty person with a stake in the game. I mean a very obvious, singularly self-interested person, that is to say, the killer.
Crimes-olving [sic] is easy when you follow this simple Dick Tracy set-up.
* There is a legend, albeit it is a disgusting hoax, that Columbo's first name is "Philip." Incidentally, Columbo revealed to no less than Frank Sinatra his wife's first name in the course of a televised roast. Mrs. Columbo's first name, he said, is Rose.
Speaking of Frank, somebody on IMDB claims that the name "Frank" is "clearly visible" on Columbo's ID in two early episodes.
Has anybody commented on the irrefragable fact that Morse stole shamelessly from Columbo the motif of the slew foot with the unrevealed (forbidden) forename?
Oftentimes it's a woman.
Who in real life would enthusiastically challenge the assumptions of the homicide detective on duty? Who would painstakingly try to lead the bumbling slewfoot agley? If you were innocent you'd stay out of it wouldn't you. You wouldn't want to take up valuable time out of your life getting involved in morbidity. You'd get on with the job of living life. If Columbo asked you something requiring your personal conjecture about the circumstances of the crime, you would shrug and say "I dunno. Whaddaya want. Christ sake you're the cop not me babe." You would not go to unusual lengths to conspicuously try to lead the police detective lieutenant off on a wild goose chase inducing him to believe a particular, often quite far-fetched, hypothesis. The only person who would waste time and energy doing that would be a very guilty person with a stake in the game. I mean a very obvious, singularly self-interested person, that is to say, the killer.
Crimes-olving [sic] is easy when you follow this simple Dick Tracy set-up.
* There is a legend, albeit it is a disgusting hoax, that Columbo's first name is "Philip." Incidentally, Columbo revealed to no less than Frank Sinatra his wife's first name in the course of a televised roast. Mrs. Columbo's first name, he said, is Rose.
Speaking of Frank, somebody on IMDB claims that the name "Frank" is "clearly visible" on Columbo's ID in two early episodes.
Has anybody commented on the irrefragable fact that Morse stole shamelessly from Columbo the motif of the slew foot with the unrevealed (forbidden) forename?
Thursday, April 30, 2015
"Columbo's Progress." Or, "Tips For Junior G-Men."
I do not intend to detract from the stellar sleuthmanship of COLUMBO, not an iota. However, every crime he's ever solved with great subtlety and ingenuity could actually be solved in less time in a more banal manner. By a three day old child.
Every week, Columbo comes upon the murder scene to investigate, and while he is doing so, one person in particular with some connection to the deceased takes a particular, you might say peculiar, interest in Columbo's progress.
The killers fall fatally into a protracted, although (absurdly) ostensibly casual, dialogue about the murder and how it was done. The killer always tries with pronounced vigour to discount each of Columbo's ideas, and to convince him that his hypotheses are wrong. They very reluctantly concede his point finally, and pull an obviously thwarted expression.
Why doesn't anyone ever have the good sense to shut up and act uninterested? Or don't talk to Columbo at all for fear of incriminating yourself with hubris? Go take a vacation. But they must stick around. They are drawn to Columbo. They must argue it. The vanity of the assassin! The brass neck of the psychopath.
Columbo should by now be able to identify the killer as the person who invariably takes an inordinate interest in the progress of the case, who tries to argue over every conjecture with him, who soon gets "frustrated," now peeved, finally accuses him of harassment and threatens to call his superiors.
To all this, Columbo would sagely nod and remind me: you need motive you need proof and you need opportunity.
Every week, Columbo comes upon the murder scene to investigate, and while he is doing so, one person in particular with some connection to the deceased takes a particular, you might say peculiar, interest in Columbo's progress.
Men cluster to me like moths around a flame
But if their wings burn I know I'm not to blame.
The killers fall fatally into a protracted, although (absurdly) ostensibly casual, dialogue about the murder and how it was done. The killer always tries with pronounced vigour to discount each of Columbo's ideas, and to convince him that his hypotheses are wrong. They very reluctantly concede his point finally, and pull an obviously thwarted expression.
Why doesn't anyone ever have the good sense to shut up and act uninterested? Or don't talk to Columbo at all for fear of incriminating yourself with hubris? Go take a vacation. But they must stick around. They are drawn to Columbo. They must argue it. The vanity of the assassin! The brass neck of the psychopath.
Columbo should by now be able to identify the killer as the person who invariably takes an inordinate interest in the progress of the case, who tries to argue over every conjecture with him, who soon gets "frustrated," now peeved, finally accuses him of harassment and threatens to call his superiors.
To all this, Columbo would sagely nod and remind me: you need motive you need proof and you need opportunity.
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