Despite their
similarities on many points, Peter Gunn (1958-1961)
strikes me as more noir than Michael
Shayne (1960-1961).
Peter Gunn was the more
popular and longer-lasting show. Created by Blake Edwards and famous for its
Henry Mancini theme music, Peter Gunn
was a half-hour series that ran for three seasons, with a total of 114 episodes
produced.
Played by Craig Stevens, who was 40 when the show premiered, Peter Gunn
is a private eye in an unnamed Western city with a
waterfront. His home base is a bar called Mother’s, presided over by Hope Emerson. He has no secretary, no assistants, no operatives, and, crucially,
no formal office; when asked about his office in one episode, he gestures around Mother's and says, "This is it."
The bar features excellent West coast-style jazz of the era,
as do other clubs that Gunn visits in the course of his work; music is a very
prominent feature of this series (and rightly contributes to its cult status
today). Peter Gunn’s girlfriend Edie Hart, played by the amazingly good actress
Lola Albright, is the sultry regular singer at Mother’s.
The other series
regular is Gunn’s contact on the police force, Lieutenant Jacoby, also played
very well by Herschel Bernardi. Gunn and Jacoby have the typical push-pull,
grudging-mutual-admiration relationship that is typical of private eyes and
cops in this sort of narrative set-up. Jacoby tolerates far more from Gunn than
he would from another independent.
Peter Gunn is a very suave guy, impeccably well-dressed (wardrobe
coordinator Sydney LaVine – love the name! – gets a prominent end credit). He’s
really Dapper Hall of Fame material. He is quite deliberate in his speech and
movements, not remotely a hothead. His only vulnerability is that, operating
alone as he does, he can be outmanned, and is sometimes conked on the head or
otherwise roughed up. (I’ve never understood why fictional private detectives
don’t operate in pairs, with one out of sight but ready to swoop in. It would
save a lot of trouble!)
Gunn’s relationship with Edie Hart is very bold for the
television of its day; they are unquestionably sexually involved, very happy in
their arrangement, and don’t talk of marriage. The many close shots of the two
are erotically charged and satisfying in a way that doesn’t even call for any
historical allowances; they come off as equal in intelligence and equals in
their relationship.
At 25 minutes in length, the episodes are very brisk in their set-ups,
even more so in their denouements, and frequently rely on a sort of genre
shorthand because there simply isn’t time to spell much out. One early episode,
“The Chinese Hangman,” is an unofficial abbreviated remake of Out of the Past that is positively whirlwind
in its effect. A standard feature of the episodes is an opening teaser that
cuts to the credits from a “shocker” – a body being discovered, say. (This
technique was used many years later for comic and ironic as well as
melodramatic effects on Hill Street Blues.)
The world that Peter Gunn operates in is decidedly nocturnal – day-lit
scenes are few, and there is no sense of 9-5 normalcy at all, even around the
show’s edges. Peter, Edie, the cops, the crooks – all come out at night. The show
is hermetic in that particular sense that soundstage shooting and night
lighting can conspire to create.
Michael Shayne premiered two
years after Peter Gunn, and might
have been catching its tailwind. It only lasted one season, for a total of 32
hour-long episodes. Like Peter Gunn, Michael Shayne was shot in
black-and-white, standard for television at that time.
Shayne, of course, was already a popular character – in the many novels
and short stories by Brett Halliday (and, after 1958, his ghost-writers), on
radio, in film adaptations starring Lloyd Nolan and Hugh Beaumont. The Shayne I’ll be describing is the Shayne
of the television show only; there are inevitable variations when you’re dealing
with a character incarnated in so many media.
Played by Richard Denning, who
was 46 when the show premiered, Michael Shayne is a Miami-based detective with
far more “apparatus” at his disposal than Peter Gunn. He has an office; he has
a secretary, Lucy Hamilton (played first by Patricia Donahue and then replaced
mid-season by Margie Regan); he has a buddy on the local paper, Tim Rourke
(Jerry Paris) –their trading of information and favors seems pretty unethical
from the journalistic side! Lucy’s bongo-playing brother Dick (Gary Clarke, in
for the youth appeal) also hangs out and does some operative work. Shayne has
about the same relationship with the local gendarme Lieutenant Gentry (Herbert
Rudley, of Decoy fame) as Peter Gunn
has with Lieutenant Jacoby.
Like Gunn, Shayne is tall, self-possessed, quite well-dressed – both
these guys are charter members of the cufflinks-and-pocket-squares brigade.
Shayne wears lighter-colored suits sometimes, in keeping with the Miami locale.
He’s got a quicker smile than Gunn, and his manner is less ironic. He, too, is
prone to being conked on the head; also, undesirables are frequently waiting in
his apartment when he opens the door – he ought to get on the building management
about that.
There is a strong hint that Shayne is carrying on with his
secretary Lucy, but they never make out on screen and the show is not remotely
as titillating as Peter Gunn. Again
in keeping with the locale, the well-built Denning gets to take his shirt off
fairly often, something we never see Gunn do (although I imagine Stevens would
have looked fine). Michael Shayne is not the heavy smoker that Peter Gunn is
(Craig Stevens’s handling of the cigarette as masculine prop was expert), but
he loves his cognac – put some in his coffee, please!
There are fairly frequent
jazz club scenes in Michael Shayne,
but they are not as flavorful as the corresponding Peter Gunn scenes, and seem to be there mainly so Gary Clarke can
annoyingly trot out his bongos.
Since Michael Shayne is an
hour show, the plotting can be and is far more elaborate than in Peter Gunn. Only about half the scenes
are set at night. There appears to have been more actual outdoor shooting - probably with Los Angeles doubling for Miami, since I don’t believe this was a
location-produced show. (That became the norm later, with Hawaii Five-O - on which Denning played the Governor - and The Streets
of San Francisco.) There is definitely a normal 9-5 world on display in Michael Shayne, and Shayne knows very
well how to operate in it (although his secretary won’t make appointments for
him before 10:00 AM; he does put in some late nights).
Why does Peter Gunn impress
me as more noir than Michael Shayne?
They pair up well enough in most aspects so that there really shouldn’t be much
to choose between them in that way. But a few significant differences tell the
tale. As a half-hour show, Peter Gunn
is less explicit in its narrative style. It is darker, more nocturnal. It is
moodier. It is sexier. It is unlinked to quotidian reality. The city is unnamed. Add it
all up, and the show is just more “mysterious” than Michael Shayne.
Also more classic – both series are enjoyable, but
only Gunn is iconic. Michael Shayne adheres to a TV formula
in which all tensions are resolved by episode’s end; but Peter Gunn, even when it appears to do the same thing, stays edgy.
Since an uneasy emotional residue seems to me to be basic to the appeal of
noir, Peter Gunn qualifies as a noir
detective series. Michael Shayne is a
breezy detective show out of a slightly distinct tradition.
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