1960
The Sixties were perhaps the least readily-definable decade in television history with regard to crime shows. By the time the next decade drew to a close, the world was going to hell in a hand basket out on the streets. Perhaps the singular characteristic of the era was that several new elements were introduced into the mystery mix over its course, including the perfect unbending TV cop for Richard Nixon's law-and-order regime.
The Defenders (1961-1965), while not solely a crime-oriented show, showed the power of the legal drama for confronting controversial issues. Car 54, Where Are You? (1961-1963) was the genre's first sitcom. The Saint (1963-1969 in various incarnations) introduced one of print's most enduring hero/rogues to TV. The Fugitive (1963-1967) showed how the classic man-on-the-run plotline was not only viable but compelling as it unfolded week after week on the small screen. The tension built up to one of the most-watched final shows in television history as Richard Kimball finally caught up with the man who had killed his wife. More an idea than a character in that he was not an active participant in the storyline until the final confrontation, "the one-armed man" is one of TV's enduring villains.
I Spy (1965-1968) brought spies to the fore--not to mention creating the medium's first African-American hero, some fella named Cosby. Then Mission: Impossible (1966-1973) made intricate weekly espionage assignments standard fare, offering challenges ("Your mission, should you choose to accept it..") which the IMF team never turned down. Meanwhile, back in the less high tech world of the traditional lone wolf PI, Honey West (1965-1966) suggested that a pretty girl need not just stand daintily off to the side waiting for a man to get the job done. Then, just to keep the PI world in its proper perspective, Mannix (1967-1975), dour and effective, did the tried and true hard-boiled thing.
Ironside (1967-1975) became perhaps the best known of the many detectives over the years who refused to allow their physical handicaps to hinder the battle against crime. It also allowed Raymond Burr to separate himself from Perry Mason. The cultural war and youth revolution that was raging out in the real world did finally find expression of sorts in Mod Squad (1968-1973), featuring like, man, hip undercover operatives who would have left Joe Friday speechless.
The decade closed with the debut of what was TV's most controversial and, until Murder, She Wrote, longest-running crime drama, Hawaii 5-O (1968-1980). In a strange way, it probably reflected the argument that was tearing the country apart better than any other show. Fans debated whether the uncompromising attitude of Jack Lord's Steve McGarrett was a matter of high principle or right wing pseudo-fascism. And they kept on tuning in, week after week, year after year.
1970
The 70s gave birth to two of the most enduring and endearing mystery characters of all time. It was also the decade when many policemen said that the best and most realistic depiction of what it was really like in their world was being done on a weekly sitcom. And it was the era which eventually proffered the intriguing argument that bikinis and lack of underwear are an ideal crime-fighting wardrobe.
It's probably fair to say that, in the end, the 70s belonged to Columbo or Rockford. Columbo (1971-1978) had three great elements: challenging stories with masterful villains played by name actors, a twist on the traditional whodunnit to how's-he-gonna-catch-him and, most importantly, a tour de force performance by star Peter Falk. The Rockford Files (1974-1980) enjoyed the same performance advantage--James Garner is James Rockford-- and enhanced its appeal with a memorable cast of supporting and recurring characters such as the hero's father and a troublesome pal, Angel. The policeman hid his competence behind a bumbling facade; the PI obscured his own with wisecracks and a constant air of exasperation. Both were brilliant.
But Rockford was not the only non standard-issue PI on the scene. Cannon (1971-1976) gave us the "fat guy" as PI and Barnaby Jones (1973-1980) gave us the "old guy." Harry O (1974-1976) allowed David Jansen to perfect the quintessential world-weary and disillusioned modern knight in the Chandler mold. And the short-lived and usually overlooked City of Angels (February-August 1976) was a marvelous period piece set in 1930s LA. The show, and its not-quite-shady PI hero Jake Axminster, deserved a better fate.
Kojak (1973-1978) challenged Columbo for the quirkiest professional crime-fighter of the era. He would easily wear the mantle of most unconventional TV cop ever were it not for Columbo. Kojak was definitely tougher, though. McCloud (1970-1977) told and retold its amusing fish-out-of-water tale with deft humor until the joke ran thin, and McMillan and Wife (1971-1977) gave viewers an ersatz Nick and Nora team in official garb. Baretta (1975-1978) did the best ever, and probably only, undercover "cop-with-cockatoo" schtick. And Quincy M.E. (1976-1983) provided a sometimes preachy but generally interesting look at crime from a different angle, the city morgue.
When it came to a different viewpoint, though, the champion was Barney Miller (1975-1982), a weekly visit to a Greenwich Village station house where crimes and crooks were often secondary to the daily drama of human existence. With a marvelous cast and an incredible sense of humanity, this remains TV's classic comedy crime show and, some would argue, the truest cop show ever.
Somewhere along the line, TV execs noticed that all those women clamoring for equality weren't about to go away. So Police Woman (1974-1978) brought Sgt. Pepper Anderson, a leggy beauty with a liberated attitude toward sex that reflected the shifting mores of the times, to the tube. At the same time, Get Christie Love! (1974-1975) featured TV's first African-American policewoman, breaking two taboos at once. As if to ward off this heresy, traditional sex and titillation ran amuck on Charlie's Angels (1976-1981). Crimes were solved amidst a splendid display of hair, teeth and flesh. And Farrah Fawcett sold a zillion posters.
1980
The 80s began with a charming hunk on the beaches of Hawaii and ended with a nice middle-aged lady chasing down murderers between churning out novels.
Magnum, P.I. (1980-1988) debuted in the closing weeks of 1980 and pretty obviously was designed to capture the free-orm humor of The Rockford Files and the island ambiance of Hawaii 5-0, the two great hits than ended earlier that year. It managed to do both quite well and made a star of Tom Selleck. But good as it was, it probably wasn't the most important show of the decade. Just over a year after Magnum's debut, what was to become the most acclaimed cop series ever slipped onto the scene. Somehow, Hill Street Blues (1981-1987) managed to survive all the complaints that it was too confusing and dreadful first season ratings. From then on, the show garnered Emmys by the handful and made the multiple, overlapping storyline a staple of the TV police procedural.
Of course, it could be argued equally well that the most important show of the 80s was Cagney & Lacey (1982-1988, with interruptions), since it was both the first female buddy series and an expiation for the sins of Charlie's Angels. The show was deeply resented by many when it first appeared because it replaced the popular newspaper drama Lou Grant on the CBS schedule, but it was later saved from oblivion when its viewers mounted a successful write-in campaign after its cancellation in 1983. Mary Beth and Christine were a long, long way from chicks in bikinis.
Other major cop series appeared during the decade. The glitzy and glamorous Miami Vice (1984-1989) was a ground-breaking effort whose fast pacing, pounding music and wild sex and violence made it an instant hit; Crime Story (1986-1988), a period piece set in 1960s Chicago and Las Vegas, starred real life cop turned actor Dennis Farina, and Wiseguy (1987-1990), the adventures of deep-cover operative Vinnie Terranova, was memorable for its charmingly scary villains and extended story arcs.
On other fronts, Remington Steele (1982-1987) thrived on the will-they-or-won't- they? attraction between its two attractive principals and the British charm of Pierce Brosnan's con man turned private investigator. Moonlighting (1985-1989) worked a variation on the same theme before it was done in by erratic scheduling and an unwise resolution of the sexual tension between Maddie Hayes and David Addison. In The Equalizer (1985-1989), British actor Robert Woodward played a retired spy who ran a daily advertisement in The New York Times offering his services to people in trouble.
On Matlock (1986-1995), Andy Griffith did the Perry Mason bit with a nice Southern drawl. L.A. Law (1986-1994), incorporating many of the techniques used so successfully on Hill Street, involved enough criminal cases to warrant the attention of mystery fans. And William Conrad, who'd been the first portly PI on the small screen, lent his bulk to a prosecutorial role in Jake and the Fatman (1987-1992).
The 80s also marked the debut of the extraordinary Mystery! (1980-) on PBS. This wonderful anthology series continues to bring such unforgettable detectives as Sherlock Holmes, Lord Peter Wimsey, Hercule Poirot and Inspector Maigret to the TV screen weekly to the delight of mystery fans everywhere. Several "Rumpole of the Bailey" segments starring Leo McKern proved extremely popular and the "Prime Suspect" segments, starring Helen Mirren as the estimable Deputy Chief Inspector Jane Tennison, were undoubtedly Mystery!'s greatest hits and among the best TV crime shows ever. An eclectic lineup of hosts has included Gene Shalit, Vincent Price, and Diana Rigg.
And yet, when all was said and done, a rank amateur won the day and the decade. Debuting on Sept. 30, 1984, Murder, She Wrote (1984-1996) went on to become the longest-running crime show of all time, 264 episodes worth, and ranked as TV's highest-rated drama series for a record nine consecutive seasons, from 1985 to 1994. For now at least, Jessica Fletcher rules.
1990
So far, three of the finest crime series of all time have been the linchpins of the Nineties: Law & Order (1990-), NYPD Blue (1993-), Homicide: Life on the Streets (1993-). All three are tough, hard-hitting cop shows and if their success paints any clear trend for the future, it might be that writers and producers should start thinking about something other than the police procedural in planning the Next Big Thing. Been there, done that.
Earlier in the decade, fleeting cult hit Twin Peaks (1990-1991)-- once you cut through the uncomfortable feeling that even creator David Lynch didn't have a clue what was going on--was essentially about FBI agent Dale Cooper, who was searching for the murderer of a teenage girl and a "damned fine cup of coffee," not necessarily in that order. Life in Rome, Wisconsin, never got quite so strange as it did in Twin Peaks, but it was still, as depicted in Picket Fences (1992-1995), far from commonplace. And less realistic every year. In the end, both shows collapsed under the weight of their own desperate weirdness.
A lot of programs in the Nineties came and went quickly, although one, The Commish (1991-1995), enjoyed a decent enough run without ever seeming to get very much attention. Nowhere Man (1995-1996) was a brief cult hit, combining The Fugitive with a touch of The Prisoner, but only for a single season. The Client (1995-1996) failed to bring that Grisham magic touch to the small screen and American Gothic (1995-1996) proved just a bit too noir for the mass audience.
Two new shows, Millennium (1996-) and The Profiler (1996-), are built around the concept of an empath who can get inside the criminal mind and help lawmen track down the bad guys; one or both may have been successful enough to survive for a second go-around. Indeed, such shows may be an early warning signal that the next trend in TV mysteries will be tales about the investigation of paranormal events and unexplained phenomena. Consider the success of The X-Files (1993-)-- which is, after all, about two FBI agents. Or even Alien Nation (1989-1990), a cop buddy show in which one of the lawmen just happened to be a bald, spotted alien with a thirst for sour milk.
In the season just past, we unfortunately saw the last of High Incident (1996-1997), an often quite good cop show that spotlighted uniformed officers on the street rather than cynical plainclothes detectives, which was cancelled at season's end. Another notable casualty was the dark and challenging EZ Streets (1996-1997), which quickly attracted an deservedly avid following, but not one large enough to allow it to survive. And Murder One (1995-1997) showed that the public-- or network executives-- didn't have the attention span for a single storyline spanning an entire season, no matter how well done. It hastened its own demise by replacing interesting and offbeat lead actor Daniel Benzali with another cookie cutter TV attorney for season two.
Among the survivors, Diagnosis Murder (1993- ) is the longest running. It stars Dick Van Dyke as Dr. Mark Sloan, who is basically Jessica Fletcher with a stethoscope. New York Undercover (1994- ) has built an audience for its gritty NY crime-busting and is noteworthy for spotlighting black and Hispanic characters in the lead roles. And Nash Bridges (1996- ) is Don Johnson trying to recapture that old Miami Vice magic, apparently coming close enough to warrant another season. Happily, mid-season replacement The Practice (1997- ), a lawyer show with lots of promise, made the ABC cut and will return in the fall.