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Dave,
Welcome to the forum! And thanks for the post.
This is actually a real tough question for me to answer! Which, of course, makes it more fun to try to answer it -- because it generates more thinking and therefore more words ;) But, there are two reasons this is hard.
First, Mannix is a show with a lot of range. Over the years, and especially from season 3 onward, it consistently includes different categories of episodes such that each season tends to have top episodes in each category. For example, there are categories of episodes where Joe is in considerable physical peril, or Peggy is kidnapped (the number of times in each season is discussed in a previous post), or Joe is completely alone and up against everyone in a small town, or there is more of a lighthearted tone to the episode, or the actual story is exceptional. Asking which episode is the best out of those categories is sort of like doing one of those "best in show" categories in a dog show -- which never made sense to me. How can a Yorkie compare to a German Shepard?
Second, some of my very favorite "episodes" from the entire series aren't really whole episodes at all, but specific scenes from episodes, where I watch certain scenes over and over again, but don't go always back to watch the set-up for that scene. And, in many cases the set-ups for that kind of scene come from more than just the episode itself anyway -- it comes from knowledge of and a relationship with the characters, and so a much broader and deeper context.
The two episodes I mentioned from season 6 are ones that I do tend to watch from beginning to end -- the story construction is good, and there are good scenes throughout. And, "A Matter of Principle" is probably the single most lighthearted episode of the entire series, which sort of puts it into a category all by itself. As an aside, Mike Connors was actually very good at humor -- I've seen him in some guest starring roles in older specials (other than the one everyone knows about where he plays Joe Mannix on "Here's Lucy" -- which was also much better than I expected!). Having said that, they integrate humor in some interesting ways in season 8 -- when they really mastered the tone of the show such that many episodes had a mix of things that the show does so well.
And, I singled out "A Puzzle for One" because not only was the story good, but it has not just one, but several of the best Joe-Peggy scenes in the entire series, all in one episode.
You know, in visiting the imdb to try to make sure I answer your question correctly -- this really is hard! And, I'm not just saying this because I am a somewhat enthusiastic promoter of the show...
In s2, I'm sort of partial to "Then The Drink Takes the Man," "Beyond the Shadow of a Dream," "Huntdown," "Coffin for a Clown," and "Deadfall" -- but, really, there are lots of others that are difficult to leave off of that list, making me actually feel bad to leave certain episodes out! Certainly some of my favorite episodes from s2 are, "The Need of a Friend," "The Girl Who Came in With the Tide," "A Pittance of Faith," "Death in a Minor Key," "End Game" and "Last Rites for Miss Emma." But, again, there is a list of episodes it makes me feel bad to leave out! And, s3 has so many, like "A Penny for the Peepshow," "Memory:Zero," "The Sound of Darkness," "Medal for a Hero," and "Only One Death to a Customer," but leaving certain other episodes off of that list is kind of painful. Now, things start to get interesting for me when you get to s4, because I had certain episodes that were my favorites as a kid, and I still love those -- but, I noticed appreciating others more as an adult. A good example of the latter is "A Gathering of Ghosts" which I did not appreciate as a kid, but now think it is a tremendous episode. And, of course, others from s4 that are outstanding are "A Ticket to the Eclipse," "The Mouse That Died," "The World Between," "Sunburst," "What Happened to Sunday?" and "Voices in the Dark" -- but, again, it's painful to leave some others out!
By the way, "The World Between" is another one of those episodes I did not particularly like as a kid, but really enjoy as an adult - and there is a lot of stuff going on in that episode if you enjoy the Joe-Peggy relationship. A lot. That episode was very cleverly written and extremely well acted. In s5 the list includes "A Step in Time," "A Choice of Evils," "A Button for General D," "The Man Outside," "Catspaw," -- and the extremely excellent, "Death is the Fifth Gear" -- which, for me is way up there as perhaps the most outstanding episode of s1-s6 (and that's saying a lot, especially because "The Sound of Darkness" has to also be in that discussion).
But, "Death is the Fifth Gear" is one of those episodes that only could have been done in Mannix -- no other show had the type of characters nor the quality of acting to pull off an episode like that -- and there was a lot going on in that episode. I still watch it and discover nuances. Like, did you notice before that when Joe hallucinates in the hospital, when Peggy and Art are visiting him there, he hallucinates about grabbing Peggy and hurting her -- which he actually does later, in the office? Actually, everything he hallucinates about them comes true -- even if in a more concrete form than the exaggerated hallucination. And, of course, when it comes to that scene in Joe's office, where Peggy hides him -- outstanding. It just could not be done in any other show because no other actors had the ability to pull off that deep, yet subtle relationship the way Mike Connors and Gail Fisher pulled off Joe Mannix and Peggy Fair. They made that relationship happen in what amounted to a few small scenes with little dialogue over the years -- and yet it had enough intensity that all sorts of viewers still think they were doing i! They did it all visually -- and it was just superbly done. And so, "Death is the Fifth Gear" was great reward for those who followed the character relationships -- because there was meaning behind what Peggy did that transcended the bounds of that single episode. She had previously identified herself as the widow of a dead cop -- but then she hid Joe from the police in what amounted to a follow-on to "The Mouse That Died" (from s4), an episode in which Joe actually yells at Peggy because she does not help him enough -- she can't accept his impending death. But, she makes up for it in "Death is the Fifth Gear" -- and at the same time transitions from being on the police side of things to being on Joe's side of things -- which really is a transition point for you, the viewer, as well, as you buy into the tough individual over organization theme. Incredible. By the way, both of those episodes were written by the same person (Chester Krumholz).
You know, over on my amazon review of s6, someone placed an excellent comment that I responded to yesterday. He gets the nuance of the show - and you can tell when someone does just how rewarding it is for them. In response, I wrote this:
"The levels of warmth, admiration and affection they convey with eyes, facial expressions and body language is superb. They continue to send all sorts of messages throughout the series, although with different intervals and intensity. Some of those scenes are so great though. And, the whole thing is so much more powerful because you realize that their relationship is based upon mutual respect -- one that transcended gender and race at a time those two issues were taking to the streets in protests and violence. How outstanding is that kind of character relationship? But, incredibly, Mannix just did it -- in an extremely high quality way that, also incredibly, seems to have become timeless as a result.
Mannix does more with subtle communications than most shows do by coming out an telling you. That is just one of the things that makes the show so well done -- and worth paying close attention to. Because you gain so much more by discovering via excellent, subtle acting than by being told what is going on."
I won't re-do s6, because that's what prompted this, but, if you would expand beyond those two episodes, certainly "The Open Web," "The Upside Down Penny," "The Man Who Wasn't There," "Out of the Night" and "The Faces of Murder" are up there -- but, again it's painful to leave some off this list. In many cases, the reason it is painful is because some of the episodes I'm leaving off the list have some of the best scenes in the entire show -- a good example of this is the closing scene from "The Inside Man" -- but there are many, many others.
Actually going through this exercise makes me want to go back and re-watch a few of these episodes -- not that I don't watch Mannix regularly nowadays anyway, but, having brought some of them back to mind, it winds up being something of a tease ;)
I remain amazed at the level of quality of Mannix -- from content to execution. It was -- and is -- quite simply, superb.
When I see the show mis-labeled in terms of what it was about, I just don't get it. Maybe if we had more of an appreciation for toughness, independence and subtle inter-personal relationships, the show would be labeled properly?
And, maybe if we did still have that kind of appreciation we would not be experiencing a generation of decline.
Because, we seem to want everything to be easy now -- we don't want to see heroes who tell us, implicitly, that being a good person is actually quite hard -- it requires sacrifice and even personal peril. It helps to be graceful about it all, to come across as someone capable of putting it all into perspective -- and going out there again and again. And, we don't want to pay attention to nuance -- we'd rather have it all in our face, soap opera style. And that's a shame, really.
Mannix contains, all in one place, the best themes America ever espoused and was produced during perhaps its most shining moment in history. It is more about subtle character relationships and sometimes even the smallest of nuances in the way Joe Mannix responds to situations, and so it really it tough to pick the best episodes.
Mark,
Oh, this is simply a great post!!!
There are at least two things in here that you pointed out that I never quite noticed before, but you are absolutely right! And man, I just love seeing things like this that I didn't see before!
Yes, at the end of "The Inside Man" I always thought it was pretty bold of Peggy to ask the question of Joe -- but it can only happen because she is not in the same room -- right!!! And too, notice how they start that scene with her in her office and not knowing he is in his office. Previously that always left me sort of cold. You mean Joe comes back after being undercover for three months and does not even bother to say hello to Peggy under pretty much any circumstances? But, if they didn't do it that way, they could have never set up her question to him. They had to establish distance for that to happen. And, what is so fascinating about that, as with pretty much all of the interactions between those two, is that the more they establish that kind of distance, the deeper their relationship comes across. As a kid I really enjoyed that -- but now, as an adult, I know that to be true, for a fact of life.
Actually, I've said this before, but season 6 wasn't my favorite as a kid -- but as an adult, is it way, way up there. And the reason is just because of scenes like this one. I get it now in a way I could never get it then. This is more evidence of the multiple levels upon which this series worked. It had elements that appealed to kids as well as adults. They all hold up extremely well. Amazing.
Another thing you point out is also fantastic! You are right, those expressions on Joe's face at the end of "A Puzzle for One" could never have happened if Peggy's eyes weren't closed. Fantastic -- you are absolutely right!!! And, there is nothing in there that comes from dialogue, and there is probably little in the script and even less that could come from the director, seeing as how the show had so many directors over the years. This came exactly from what character-driven TV does at its very best -- the actors owning the characters. You simply can't write enough words about facial expressions like that -- in the context of what you see in that episode, as well as the meaning in the context of the entire series.
I said you pointed out two things -- but really, pointing out that scene in "The World Between" brings up fresh thoughts as well. You are right -- that scene with the blond chick did not have to be in there if the episode was only about Peggy falling in love with someone in the hospital after being shot. But, of course, it was about so much more than that. On the subject of facial expressions, also pay close attention to virtually every scene between Joe and Peggy in that episode. As an aside, I always thought the episode title was sort of a pun -- it could take on multiple meanings.
Those scenes between Joe and Peggy are some of the best in the entire series -- but they could not take place without the "cover" of her falling in love with this African Premier. This is the same type of thing you pointed out in the other two episodes -- they pulled off intense moments and conveyed affection by using cover like that. The result was just great -- really intense, the way all deep affection that is not "open" works. Probably more great things are accomplished in the world because of this kind of relationship than any other kind. The key phrase there is "in the world" as opposed to within the confines of some family unit. Mannix is a show about being engaged with the world -- the levels of love in Mannix all work on a higher level.
Going back to that one scene with the blond chick, consider that in conjunction with the scene where Joe visits Peggy, she is getting bandaged and he is sitting there, having a smoke (one of the last Joe smokes has in the entire series, by the way -- if not the last -- aside from one in s7's "The Gang's All Here" -- but that was to stall for time). Notice how they fight with each other -- mostly, Peggy takes stuff out on Joe.
Now, this is another episode that I didn't like as a kid. But as an adult, it blew me away! To a kid, that episode seemed like one thing -- Peggy is falling for this same-race, foreign guy who seems to be nearly perfect. It is an accident of fate that she does not wind up with him. Geez. But, what really goes on there is that you can see though the sparring between Joe and Peggy that, despite her attraction to that Premiere, she is really closer to Joe. As an adult I understand that when people are comfortable sparring with each other like that, they really are closer than the ones who seem to be living out some sort of fantasy-style, idyllic relationship. Peggy is closer to Joe than she could ever be to that Premiere -- not only does that come across, but the reasons for it do as well. They pulled that off in that episode in a truly amazing way, navigating all sorts of constraints of the era. And, if you pay attention, you wind up not only feeling that, but learning something from it. The episode shows the difference between deep affection and other forms of more intoxicating attraction. You get to see it -- if you are invested in the characters, you feel it. And, as an adult, this makes perfect sense. It's really kind of beautiful.
As a result of that episode, you wind up not wanting to see Peggy with a guy of her own race -- you'd rather see her with Joe. And this is in 1970! How did they pull that off -- everyone -- the writers, the actors? C'mon people. That was nothing short of brilliant!
It also sets up the relationship for the rest of the series. It is, quite simply, adult. It is based upon deep, mutual affection -- and also admiration for actual deeds. And, I'll take that kind of relationship over any other kind, every time.
And, in the end, it winds up doing more than just furthering race relations -- it winds up telling people that maybe adult forms of love are better than any other kind.
For my money, we've regressed since a series like Mannix was on the air. Everything seems so much cheaper -- there are no constraints to just getting "what you want." We seem to prioritize getting things in return for love more than we use it as a means of contributing to the world in a larger sense -- which is really a larger form of love. As a result, we cheapen ourselves.
Also consider the final scene of this episode. Why does Peggy say, "I'm beautiful" to Joe after he asks her how she is doing? Then, after she does that, look at Joe's face. Lots of stuff goes on there, visually. I mean, that is one of those lines that seems completely out of character for Peggy -- sort of similar to the way it seemed completely out of character for Joe to not say hello to Peggy when he comes back to his office after being undercover for three months in "The Inside Man." But, as you pointed out, there is a reason for the distance there. Same thing here -- there is something out of character -- and it is used to set something else up -- to send a message. As with pretty much everything in Mannix, you can't just dismiss it as an accidental thing -- just as you pointed out two other great things I never noticed before in those other two episodes. It all conveys meaning where it matters most -- symbolically, subtly.
One more thing about that scene where the blond chick is answering the phone in Peggy's office, with "Mr. Mannix's office." I remember, so distinctly, as a kid seeing that for the first time, feeling that she looked so absurdly wrong there. I was mad at Joe too!!
And, that was an amazing thing.
Because virtually every other show of that era would have gone the blond chick route for the secretary. But, the brilliance of Mannix is just how wrong that would have been for this extremely intelligent series.
I was thinking more about Gary's question about the definition of myth -- it is an interesting question!
In attempt to give a better answer, let me try something out. After all, Gary asked for my definition of myth, and I gave him Joseph Campbell's. But, it really is more useful to give my interpretation of myth, since it is behind the way I have been using the term. Here goes...
A myth is a story that causes you to want to do things that run counter to your own mere survival on this planet.
Now, that seems like a simple enough definition, but it carries a lot of meaning. It means that if all myths are stories, not all stories are myths. This was where I was headed in the last post on this topic, but using this gives the possibility for more precision.
For example, if I watch The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Mary Richards is a myth -- but nothing in there makes me want to go out there and do things that run counter to my best chances for survival and creature comfort (my apologies to anyone who sees more in there than I do). Similarly, The Hurt Locker is a story, but it does not rise to the level of myth for me because none of the characters make me want to go out there into the world and give of myself for a higher purpose (again, my apologies, but they just don't).
In general, myths show the beauty of giving ourselves -- some part of us, or even all of us -- for a higher purpose.
By contrast, consider, A Few Good Men. That is one of my favorite movies -- I have watched it at least a dozen times -- at least. While I am not a big Tom Cruise or Demi Moore fan, that closing courtroom scene is nothing short of brilliant. And, interestingly, while I understand there is some connection to a real world individual behind the story, the movie certainly rises to the level of myth.
The reason is because the Tom Cruise character took an enormous risk for a higher purpose -- putting it all on the line to do what was right. You see the beauty of his doing that -- and, if you get it, you take it with you. It changes you. A Few Good Men was a love story -- but love for higher purpose, not a cheaper form of love. So, when Demi Moore's character just walks away in the end, it is great -- brilliant. Whomever the Tom Cruise character marries is incidental to the higher form of love he gave in the courtroom.
Similar to a series like Mannix, the hero in A Few Good Men is all alone, answering to himself, but he also works within the system. He is not an anarchist. This is extremely difficult to pull off -- and the difficulties we have in the US right now are, in my opinion, all traced back to having fewer people with this kind of awareness -- and fortitude.
At its core, Mannix was all about that kind of fortitude and that higher form of love that is engaged with deeds done in the world. It was what the show was really all about. The setting as a PI show was incidental. Because you see Joe Mannix behaving in such a way that he answers to himself, at all costs, including his own personal peril, but does not retreat from "the system" as a result -- and you see how this can result in allowing him to do more with his life than he might have otherwise. When you invest with the characters you get the value of this. As a result, it allows you to be a better version of yourself.
Without myths to orient us to something more important than our own mere survival we would not have people who give their lives in battle, walk into burning buildings, put their jobs on the line, or invest themselves completely in their work (like, for example, a brain surgeon) -- losing connection with family and friends as a result. These people are the real-world manifestation of connection with myths -- they are heroes. They do things that run counter to their own survival because they subscribe to -- believe in -- a higher form of love. But, even here there is a continuum -- a surprising number of people do not care to give anything of themselves in order to do the right thing, even when they have significantly less to lose. Sadly, people can often hide behind family values to avoid doing the right thing in the larger world out there, ultimately leaving what kind of real legacy behind? This is the real disappearing middle class in the U.S. -- the middle class of heroes.
This need to connect with something larger than ourselves is ultimately what we hunger for.
How we achieve it defines us.
Myths point the way for us.
When cultural myths become cheaper, we become cheaper as a culture.
I thought of another example of the way myth can take on more universal aspects. Since the example compares apples to apples, is has the potential to draw differences into relief. Since the example compares two fantasies, it also draws myths a bit more into relief -- fantasies are constructed out of basic cultural elements, cast into such forms in order to exaggerate, on purpose, some underlying, major themes.
Consider two fantasies which have recently been made into blockbuster movie series -- The Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. On the surface, these two fantasies would seem to have an awful lot in common. Both came from the same culture (each were written by British authors). Both are (ostensibly) children's fantasies, were made into mega-movie hits, and involve a single heroic character, surrounded by a cast of supporting heroic types. Both are, at their core, about good vs. evil -- generally one person battling power. But, the two are clearly very different myths.
Harry Potter is about an orphan whose life's purpose is marked from birth -- literally, on his forehead. He has particular powers, also granted from birth. The wizard capabilities are inherent skills and abilities, and, since they involve manipulation of the world, they are symbolic of technological skills. All technology appears to be magic from a distance. Harry goes to school for this -- having a propensity to deal with science and technology is generally not sufficient -- one has to go to school in order to develop it and not have to re-learn, from scratch, what others have already learned. Once in school Harry is exposed to the cohorts and learning that allow him to deal with his life's purpose -- to battle the evil that marked him from the time he was born. Notice also how Hogwarts is old -- very old -- implying that the wisdom where goes back generations. Notice also how in those schools, the students are placed in Houses through some magical decision-making process -- the students do not get to choose these Houses for themselves. What they are is chosen for them -- pre-destiny.
A lot of what goes on in Harry Potter is about pre-destiny and the training of innate skills for the advantage of others.
By contrast, The Lord of the Rings is about a lone individual who would rather lead a simple life, but, to some extent because of his simplicity, his individuality, his having figured things out for himself, he has a particular gift -- he is not prone to succumb to power (the ring). You get the sense that he was not marked from birth for this -- the particular qualities Frodo has could have come as much from his self-developed lifestyle as much as pre-disposition. He learned how to live well. As a result, his life became invaluable in allowing that for others as well. Power does not affect him. Because he comes to understand this, and to understand that he is in a position to battle power, he takes on a heroic mantle -- by choice, facilitated by the product of his individuality.
The Harry Potter hero comes with a lot of baggage he has to deal with, and solves his problem with a lot of structure and choices he does not really make for himself. He solves his problem through, in essence, schooling and technology (in addition to raw nerve). It makes sense that this kind of myth might result from a culture with a lot of history who needs to face the future with more education that includes technology, in addition to guts. But, while a powerful theme, that is not really an entirely universal theme.
By contrast, the Frodo hero has zero baggage. Not only does his lineage mean nothing, but he does not seem to have any particular educational lineage either. He is not pre-destined so much as he finds himself in a position to do something others can't seem to do. His particular skill set is actually pretty thin, if you think about it. He has figured out what life is all about and, as a result, earthly power does not get to him.
Now, I find it fascinating that The Lord of the Rings was written by a university professor (Oxford, no less) while Harry Potter was written by someone with little education. And yet, the former is about a hero with little schooling and the latter is set in school and about skills refined there! I sometimes think that The Lord of the Rings should be required viewing for administrators of all kinds -- especially university administrators. They should be forced to view it. Then take a quiz on it. Then view it again.
Annually...
If not more frequently...
Between these two fantasies, Frodo is so much more like the Joe Mannix character than Harry Potter. And, interestingly, The Lord of the Rings is, at least for my money, a bit more difficult to ridicule than the Harry Potter stories. The Lord of the Rings is, at once, a more universal story, and a deeper one -- thus its message is a bit more challenging for people to face up to (no one can exclude themselves from identifying with the hero because there is no pre-destiny there) -- and thus I would guess without doing any research on this that Harry Potter is far more popular.
People do not like to be challenged. They like to be confirmed for what they already are, and so they like their heroes to be somewhat more distant.
Joe Mannix is actually of a similar vein to The Lord of the Rings. He is a bare-bones, universal hero who, because he is an individual who has figured himself out, can stand up to the corruption of power. Only, again, as I've said before, Mannix takes place in a modern-day setting -- which is far more difficult to carry off than a pure fantasy.
Also, while Joe Mannix is educated, his education does not define him. Actually, I love that about the character -- it is that great middle ground for education where the lack of it could be problematic, but too much identification with it gets in the way of it being useful as well. Whatever lineage he has not only does not matter, but he actually rejects his supposed pre-destiny (his father's wishes for him). Whatever skills he has are made most useful because he has has learned to live just well enough that he does not succumb to power. How many briefcases full of money does Joe deal with over the series -- how much opportunity does he have to simply take the money and run, but never does? And, the backstory of the character is that he could run with it -- he has enough skills to get away with doing just that. You get the sense he is content with who he is -- and that is where his goodness, his power comes from -- sort of like the Frodo character.
And thus, Joe Mannix's heroic qualities come from a universal place that each individual can access.
And so, while Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings are both myths, I consider the latter a much better, more universal, more powerful myth.
And many of these same parallels exist between Joe Mannix and other characters over the years as well.
Haven't reported the sales numbers for s6 in awhile -- and there is good news to continue to report, especially with the numbers at dvdempire.com:
Current Sales Rank: 45
So far as I can tell, that number is over all items sold on dvdempire.com -- including this rash of blu-ray re-releases!
When you go look at the list of 100 top bestselling items on dvdempire.com (this is actually sorted according to type, with blu-ray now separated out), the s6 release is the number 22 bestselling item there!!!
Currently, the only vintage TV series ranked higher is the s2 sales of Police Woman. (My guess is that those who buy that series do it for a very different kind of inspiration than I find in Mannix, and that kind of inspiration always sells well).
Since tomorrow will be four weeks from the actual release of s6, and this is a series well towards the end, but not quite at the end, of a long release, these numbers seem very good!!!
And again, I'm so encouraged by this, because Mannix is a series that has had so little promotion in recent years -- no movie, little airing in syndication, and virtually no quality (uncut) airing in syndication in the US. Not a lot of people could even get CLOO for the marathon a few weeks back -- and those episodes were so butchered so as to be unrecognizable. In addition there is no cult status behind the show -- it does not belong to a genre that has disappeared (such as Westerns), or one with a fanatical following (such as science fiction). Still further it does not have any kind of gimmick, nor does it have any kind of re-make attempt -- each of which creates lots of additional demand.
In addition to that, you still find labels of this show that completely miss the point and would easily scare away the uninitiated -- I'm sure I would be one of those, by the way. If I was never exposed to Mannix as a kid, I'd see this label of "the most violent show on television..." and not take a second look. If you look at the descriptions, they are a completely mis-guided, mismatch for what the show was really all about -- and yet they persist.
And yet, despite all of this, the show has a deep following. It is still selling like this, all of these years later -- sort of in its own underground. And, from the few things people do write about the show, it is beloved -- as it should be.
This would seem to place the show in a category all by itself -- which, in terms of its actual content, is where it belongs anyway.
It should be very interesting to see how CBS/P markets the season 7 release. They must know that they can market it with the additional promotion that 2/3 of the episodes have not been seen in the US since they originally aired nearly 40 years ago.
And, beyond that, season 7 is simply an excellent season of Mannix -- one that, during its first run, wasn't viewed as much as it should have been, due to poor programming. I will always be grateful that my parents had that little 7" Sony color Trinitron in their bedroom, so that I could go in there and watch while they were were watching other stuff.
I used to think that my desire to continue to watch Mannix was a sign that I wasn't quite as grown up as they were.
Nearly a lifetime of experiences and lots of reading later, that sure turned out to be wrong.
today marks 4 weeks after the release of s6 -- and it is currently in the top 20 of 100 bestselling DVDs at dvdempire.com -- at number 19!
More on the subject of what makes a good myth came to mind -- and it's a fun thing to think about. I thought of two other things.
First, strong myths need to be timeless. This is one reason they tend to be cast in the form of fantasy or in some other time period. In so doing, the themes of the myth are made more universal because they are not tied to the setting in which they appear. And, if you think about it, this is necessary if the themes are to be powerful -- they need to sustain an individual throughout a lifetime and orient the meaning of life beyond the bound of a single lifetime.
Second, strong myths tend to result in imagery that transcends story. Any individual story or even collection of stories is too specific for a strong myth -- instead, the story or stories behind a myth are mere illustrative examples of strong, underling images that have the potential to sustain beyond the bounds of any collection of instances. Did you ever notice how great movies are often discussed in terms of great scenes? We watch the whole movie, but it is the scenes we remember -- and they have the capacity to resonate with us so much that, once seen, they are impossible to forget, similar to the way one can't unlearn how to ride a bike (in the absence of some sort of damage).
There are analogies here to teaching technical topics -- even math. In teaching math, all one can do is give examples and show students how to generalize the rules from the examples. Thus, math exams always have instances of problems that students have never seen before, because solving them requires use of the rules -- and this kind of problem solving is a capability beyond mere memorization.
Clearly life has no rules -- at all. Whatever you think are rules are either societal norms -- or strong myths in action. Unlike math, where one set of rules applies (except in deeper consideration of mathematical spaces, interestingly enough, where rules actually can conflict, even there), we get to pick which myths we connect with. But, once we do the test of how good our myths are is like the math exam -- how well they applly to problems we haven't seen before (and could never see coming) as well as how well they help us to want to make the most of our lives in the absence of significant problems. And so, a strong myth leaves us with imagery that, ideally, both sustains as well as motivates us -- allows us to survive difficult things as well as to do hard things we might not do otherwise.
And now, back to Mannix...
In this year since re-discovering the series, I noticed two things about the discussion of the series. First, that it has held up so well -- both much better than expected as well as better than perhaps any other series during that time. It does not seem "dated." I've certainly noticed this myself -- but I'm also reiterating what others have said as well. And, this is really quite incredible -- really. Because, on the surface, the show would have seemed to have been so much the product of the time period in which it was produced. How do you create a timeless myth set in the present day? That really is quite difficult -- and quite incredible.
The second is that people like to discuss individual scenes from the series -- and I'm guessing that people who are fans of the show have many such scenes in mind. In addition, it was interesting that several years back Caroline in the City ran an episode where Caroline's parents re-enacted scenes from Mannix. This is imagery! Once you have formed a strong relationship with the characters, all you need for reminders of the essential qualities of the character is a collection of scenes. This is evidence of the power of a strong myth -- which leaves you with fundamentals that can be abstracted. You have those scenes in your head -- and they become your guideposts -- ideally your personal rulebook for life, whether you realize it or not.
Unlike the current crop of cop shows, lawyer shows, or doctor shows, Mannix does not leave you wanting to become some sort of crime scene investigator or doctor or lawyer. It certainly does not leave you wanting to become a Private Investigator -- that is not the point of the show. The show points to deeper concepts, using its setting in time and place as well as professional detail to convey truths that are both timeless and rich with imagery.
Be tough. Be an individual. Be true to yourself -- and the truth behind it all. Be willing to sacrifice. Once you have these things in place, live well enough to not succumb to power (or money). And, with these things in place, keep engaged with it all -- keep moving.
These things, this imagery, these "rules" underlie all professions, all situations -- and, as a result, are so much more powerful than many other mere stories.
And, once you get these things, really let them sink in, this is why Mannix makes you better.
Sales of s6 are still good -- it is currently still the number 19 bestselling DVD on dvdemprei.com (the list reflects sales over the past week, but is updated daily). It actually made it to number 18 yesterday, but I've been too busy these past few days to post much...
The bottom line is that the sales of s6 have been plenty strong enough to warrant the release of s7.
And, of course, it warms my heart that there is still a hunger out there for this series.
Denny,
You are right -- and if they do not do this, then something will smell funny with respect to trying to keep profits down!
Add to this something else -- season 7 is, quite simply, an outstanding season of Mannix. It has lots of action and some great stories. Some scenes from that season are ones I've held in my mind all of these years -- they are both comforting and inspirational -- at the deep level at which myths work.
Good news to report today as well -- the sales of s6 are currently ranked at number 16 on the dvdempire "top 100 bestselling DVD" list -- the one updated weekly. The rank on that list is one ahead of Nude Nuns with Big Guns which comes in at number 17. Hey, I realize dvdempire has a particular "specialization" -- and I have no particular interest in them as a company, they simply report sales numbers that I can report!
At least Joe's particular kind of gun currently ranks higher on that list.
I was watching s6's "The Faces of Murder" last night -- and it was the perfect episode at the perfect time.
Now, there are a number of very interesting things about that episode, among them that Joe's client is trying to get herself convicted of murder (in order to try to save her brother) and, without introducing a spoiler, the ending is quite interesting!
But, something else very interesting happens in that episode.
Joe breaks the law.
And we, the viewer, are entirely OK with that -- because it is clear, quite clear, that Joe is, overall, highly moral and a hero to boot. If he is going to break the law, we simply accept that he is going to do that for a greater good -- in this case try to make sure that someone who is innocent does not go to jail, since the police have completely given up on investigating alternatives to the murder which is the focal point of the episode.
Not only does Joe break the law (I won't say how for those who have not seen the episode yet), but the way he does so is quite elaborate, and the resulting scene with Art Malcolm in Joe's office is simply one of the best of the entire series.
When I watched that episode last night, it made me feel so good -- and it is yet another one of those times it made me feel the loss of the way the U.S. used to feel.
Now, coincidentally, I've just spent several days dealing with one very small-minded individual. This happened in the context of a setting in which other people were involved -- a committee. This one small-minded individual was able to dominate the room. And why? Because he was able to leverage a kind of righteousness that has permeated our culture these days -- so much so that others were more inclined to get on the bandwagon than to search their souls for what was really right.
On the surface the law is right. If you stop there, however, you realize that the law, itself, has contradictions. It is impossible to write any kind of language, agreement, constitution or other body of rules that (a) cover all situations and (b) completely prescribe the meaning behind the original intent. That is why law, itself, is subject to all kinds of interpretation, especially at the constitutional level.,
And so, what you are left with as the last great hope, the last line of defense -- individuals.
These individuals we rely upon must have sufficient (a) intelligence, (b) will, (c) morals and (d) independence -- but when they do, it is them we rely upon to be there for us, far more than any strict letter of the law.
And the individual is you.
And so I was thinking about heroes with these four attributes. Joe Mannix has them - and probably for that reason, I've at the very least understood the value of these things all of my life, even if I will spend the rest of my life trying to live up to them. But, at least because of Mannix I know the difference. It is clear that too many other people simply do not. They are either not intelligent enough to be able to cope with situational conflicts, or not strong enough to suffer consequences of doing the right thing, or do not really understand the basic difference between right and wrong at the most fundamental of levels (which can never be simply written down) or, in what seems to be a recent trend, prefer to identify with some larger group rather than to think for themselves.
In the broader discussion of myths, I have previously said that getting Mannix back has helped me.
Here are more reasons why.
When I feel the myth inside of me, I do better. I am more able to stand up for the right thing and less inclined to fall into the trap of believing that somehow my life will be better if I simply follow rules that make me feel as if the most important thing is to belong to a group. I find that I am also stronger than I used to be in realizing that sometimes the best place to be in life is all alone while in a crowd -- so long as I am standing up for the right thing.
And so, right there, in a beautifully crafted episode that happened to be on a DVD, set aside for a few days while I needed to deal with something else, was a re-enforcement of a myth I find so well done -- and so incredibly useful as to be beyond words.
And so, here is more evidence that myths run so deep inside of us that they transcend groups or laws or rules or words. They make us better.
I wish I would do better all of the time, towards the kind of end beautifully portrayed in my myth of choice. I also wish there were more people who felt that way as well -- even as, it seems to me, more of those kind of people used to be around. I miss them.
I am so glad to have Mannix back.
Here's hoping it continues to sell well. In a paradox, which is something I believe in, perhaps the fact that 1 2/3 of the last two seasons were withheld from us will prompt the sales of the entire series to be greater than they would have been otherwise.
Sometimes things you think are all bad can work out to be, ultimately, good -- sort of like the way tough situations that we would never ask for can result in opportunities to become better people.
And I am so glad I had that concept buried deep inside my head all of these years, the level at which myth operates, thanks to Mannix.
Mark,
As usual, your observations are great.
People often talk of chemistry between actors, and this is a great example that shows the difference. I do think Joe and Art had a certain kind of chemistry -- one example is the scene I just mentioned in "The Faces of Murder" where Art visits Joe's office after he does something... less than perfectly legal. Another example is the scene in the Paseo in "A Button for General D" from s5. But, most of the time Art wound up being a straight man for Joe.
Adam Tobias had more substance probably all due to Robert Reed's interpretation of the character. It started right away in "The Girl Who Came In With the Tide" -- which was one of those episodes towards the end of season 2 where it became apparent that Mannix was going to be its own thing, its own kind of character study, and thus be much more than just a PI drama which was a TV version of the old movie film noir genre. Of course, it went to the next level with "The Sound of Darkness" in s3 -- perhaps not coincidentally, another Adam Tobias episode. He was so crucial to that episode that I'm not sure that episode would have been what it was, and so perhaps not the entire show, without Robert Reed.
Another good example of the chemistry between Adam and Joe in s6 is the scene in Joe's office in "The Danford File" where Joe and Adam have a brief exchange -- but the exchange is brilliant. It includes both teasing as well as Adam having the upper-hand on Joe.
It's funny, but people familiar with Mannix, but who don't have quite the closeness to the show as some others, almost universally prefer Adam Tobias to Art Malcolm. In addition, they seem to recall Adam being in more episodes than he really was in -- and I was that way as well before I searched last year and saw the exact count. Adam's scenes simply had more of an impact -- they are the ones that are so good that you keep them with you.
Having said that, Art's role becomes much more important in s7 and especially in s8, when Robert Reed does not appear at all, probably due to being banished by Paramount for not showing up to the filming of the last episode of The Brady Bunch. And, while Ward Wood improves -- becomes a little less wooden over time -- he never quite reaches the level of Robert Reed.
You know, I thought about this more last night -- pretty much any post about Mannix inspires me to think more about it, which is great. But, someone over on the yahoo! Mannix discussion group said they would have liked to have seen more humor in Mannix, of the kind in s6's "A Matter of Principle" -- the episode with the two spinster sisters. Their reasoning was that the should would have then been more like The Rockford Files, where James Garner played to his type with his customary airy, breezy manner.
All I can say to that is that while I enjoy the humor in Mannix, it appeals to me so much more because the show took itself seriously. It had the perfect balance of humor. Some moments in life are funny, in context. Some situations remain humorous for a longer period of time. There is rarely an episode of Mannix where there isn't a funny or cynical line -- and I certainly looked forward to those. The show wasn't completely dark. Rather, it was in proper balance. Joe Mannix was a do-er more than an observer. When you do things, and the more you are involved with doing thing that involve the concerns of others as well as risk, things tend to be serious. That's just life -- it really is mostly dark in nature. Even comedians normally have their dark sides which inspire them to the humor!
I sometimes think these lighter than air dramas that came after Mannix have caused us to believe that if something is hard, it must not be for us to do. And, on the other side, shows that are completely dark -- with no humor at all -- give the same message -- that the hard stuff is for someone else to do.
Because Mannix had mythical elements placed in the present day an with a proper balance of seriousness and humor, it had the potential to inspire us as well as entertain us. And, it does both, beautifully.
And, of course, as you also mention Joe gets scolded significant times -- in "The Girl Who Came in With The Tide" and "The Sound of Darkness" both Adam and Peggy are involved in the same scene. Interestingly, after that foundation there always seems to be a warmer relationship between Adam and Peggy than Art and Peggy -- who are cordial, but not warm. Interestingly, in both of those episodes it was, in those days, really kind of shocking to see the leading man scolded in that way!
All I can say it that it took an incredible amount of confidence for Mike Connors to not only let that happen, but to pull it off -- keeping the hero motif well intact and even making it stronger. Not only that but he gave the upper hand to black actors -- something also unheard of in that day, cried on camera several times, and let his second-banana co-star take on more than a traditional role. All of this lent itself to the authenticity of the character. When you watch Mannix, you get the sense that living a certain way makes sense -- and it comes across as more than acting technique. You can see it. That is just something that makes the show so special.
And too, you are right about something else -- friends fight and tease each other! And Adam and Joe simply did more of that than Art and Joe. Art was more of a traditional kind of police officer, which worked OK. But, Robert Reed was more innovative with Adam Tobias, and I sometimes have thought that the part Anthony Zerbe played in Harry O was inspired in some ways by Adam Tobias. Remember -- before Mannix the PI shows were pretty much all formula. Mannix evolved the genre even as it wound up being a singular show -- and character -- in its own right, i.e, one that has never quite been re-done.
Dave,
This is great stuff!
I love this episode -- and have watched it many times. But I didn't even notice some of what you just pointed out. That is the beauty of Mannix -- it really does contain things that you don't notice the first several times, because the show is rich -- just well done in the way it pays attention to individual scenes.
The initial scene with Art -- the crime scene -- that is one of the few scenes in Mannix where it rains (the only other one I can even think of is the opener in s5's "A Choice of Evils"). I wonder now if that was on purpose, or just by accident. The apartment didn't seem special enough to warrant location shooting, especially in the rain, so it must have been on purpose. It's an ongoing theme of Mannix, of course, for Joe to be the only one (sometimes with his client and sometimes just him) pursuing something -- and the cold shoulder he gets from Art along with the rain make the case seem that much more hopeless -- even the client's purpose in this case is to get herself convicted. This case seems especially cold, because you never get attached to the person really being helped -- the brother. You hardly even see him!
There is this way Mannix makes you feel on that spot -- all alone -- where, arguably, the most important things in life are accomplished, and the most heroic deeds are really done -- when no one is looking, and no one else seems to care but you -- and you are trying to do the right thing -- in this scene pushed by your friend right out into the rain and, really, made to feel kind of dumb in the process.
Then, that scene in Joe's office where Art visits -- Peggy's face is good in that one as well, because she catches Joe in, well if not a lie then an exaggeration, and she gives an excellent smirk when she hands him his coffee. You can tell that it is sort of a smirk of, simultaneously, disapproval as well as approval -- and deep affection and admiration. And it's all visual, taking just a couple of seconds in part of a single scene. But, if you notice, then you get it -- you get it in such a way that it takes you to that next level of understanding what it means to be an individual -- that fine edge where there is official disapproval, but deep admiration. That is beautiful -- and really what Mannix is all about.
Those kind of scenes are so good that you don't need to see them again in other shows -- once you see scenes like that you get it -- and the getting it is the myth at work. Great myths allow you to identify with behavior you like so strongly that you want it to become a part of you. You wish you were more like that -- and, when you wish it strong enough, you do become a little more like that.
That scene with Peggy where you can't see the gunman -- right! I hadn't noticed that before. You have Joe's vantage point in this one -- and it makes it that much more tense because, by hiding that character, you feel Joe's lack of control of the situation. There just isn't anything he can do -- and you know it, because you are in there with him.
The richness of that scene -- in particular what I didn't notice before -- brings something to mind, and it combines with something else I had read. They both pertain to the recent academy award winner for best picture, The Artist. Now, I haven't seen The Artist, and so I really can't comment on its content one way or the other. But, I noticed when the movie won its award that they said it was the only nominated movie -- out of what, nine of them? -- that was filmed in LA. For some reason I think it was filmed on the Paramout lot -- just like a lot of Mannix and MI and lots of classic TV was. But, the point here is similar to what the academy was probably saying by making that movie best picture. What they were saying is that you don't need color or even sound -- and especially not all kinds of external trappings -- to make a strong story.
Mannix did do a lot of location shooting -- and what that seemed to do was add to the energy of the show and its present-day realism because it allowed you to feel as if these things were really going on in LA. But a lot -- a lot -- of the scenes in Mannix were just filmed on the Paramount lot -- and there was a lot of attention paid to individual scenes like the ones we have been discussing on this thread. It was as if by having to pay attention to details they put themselves more in the mind of the viewer, as opposed to just running around following people, which is the way a lot of what I see today on movies and TV seems like.
And, the other thing that occurred to me pertaining to The Artist was something I read in the USA Today last week. It discussed the leading man who won for best actor, Jean Dujardin. I read where he was once told that his acting career was limited because his face was, believe it or not, too expressive. When I read that I remembered reading that when Mike Connors was discovered, it was because he had such an expressive face -- and he really does.
Mannix is a very visual show. You really can't describe it in words. You have to see it. But, when you do, and once you let yourself get attached to the characters, you can really get it. And that can make it just a little more possible to stand up to people who are small-minded and like to identify with group-think. You are more comfortable being alone in doing the right thing.
That has simply been invaluable to me.
Dave,
Sure -- and I hope others will chime in as well.
From s1, try: "To Kill a Writer" -- which is kind of nutty. That's kind of a hidden gem, if only for that reason. And, in case I didn't list the two-parter, "Deadfall" yet -- just go for that one.
Here are a couple of gems from s2: "End of the Rainbow" and "A Pittance of Faith" -- and, for the best Joe-Peggy fight scene of the series, try "In Need of a Friend".
And from s3: "Walk With a Dead Man," "Harlequin's Gold" and "Who is Sylvia" are all hidden gems.
From s4, try: "The Other Game in Town" or "Bang, Bang You're Dead" -- Pat Talley maintains a website with letters from actors who worked on Mannix where they say that the scene where Joe saves the little girl was a little too real -- for which the series was fined. The woman who played the little girl wrote the story that she actually felt saved from the car by Mike Connors -- the car went too soon and cut things too close -- and when you watch that scene for real, you can kind of see it!
From s5, my hidden gems would be: "The Man Outside" and "Castpaw" -- each of these have specific scenes in them that are just great.
And, from s6, I'd pick: "The Upside Down Penny" (which has a great scene at the carnival which was filmed on the Santa Monica Pier) and "The Open Web" -- just in case I didn't mention it before (and since you didn't mention it, I may not have).
So, it's no surprise to people who have been reading what I've been writing here that I've been enjoying connecting Mannix to larger issues, especially mythology and Western themes (and by "Western" I mean Western Civilization, which includes The Americas and Europe). It's stunning to me how much is actually in that show, and just how well done it was -- and is.
So, here's another thing that occurred to me, only yesterday.
I used to pretty much ignore the whole issue of Joe Mannix being a PI -- a Private Investigator. Previously, I would think of it as a kind of shortcut to form a wide variety stories that could be told in a 50-minute timespan. And, this is certainly also still true. But, there is something else intriguing about a PI -- most especially Joe Mannix's version.
He asks a lot of questions. And, he takes a lot of abuse -- all kinds of abuse -- for asking them.
Now, on the surface, this is just something we are used to from growing up watching a lot of movies and TV. But, there is something at the heart of all of this, related to the very foundations of Western Thought. Arguably, the father of Western Philosophy, which is, itself, the foundation of Western Thought and around which our civilization was formed, was Socrates. There are a couple of interesting and unique things about Socrates.
First, he is the one the "Socratic Method" is named after -- a method by which questioning is supposed to lead to increased insight -- and the truth.
Second, he chose death over doing something he felt was unjust. Whether he was more myth or man, his myth is that he prized truth and justice more than life itself.
Now, I've done some teaching over the years. And, one thing I used to like to do (when more students were right in the room and not distributed, as they are for me now), was use the Socratic Method -- it was just something that came naturally to me. But, when you do that, and when you use a technique of questioning in order to teach anyone anything (including one-on-one, the way research is usually done), you know that questions are powerful -- and irritating.
People do not like to be exposed when they do not have answers to questions they think they should be able to answer. And they like questions even less when the real answer will make them look bad about themselves -- to themselves.
This, of course, is especially true when people are asked questions of a more personal nature -- related to their character -- which is, after all, the type of material in Mannix.
And yet, if we do not ask ourselves questions (and forming such a dialogue in a student's mind is one of the goals of teaching) then we are not very evolved as people. But, when those questions are asked -- either inside of ourselves or to someone else -- the questioner normally pays a price. They had better be ready to take a beating and/or defend themselves -- normally both.
The truth is not something that comes for free -- this is true not only when we examine ourselves, but when we seek and especially speak truth in the outside world. The truth hurts -- really.
And, I can't believe I never noticed this before, but a PI -- at least Joe Mannix's version -- embodies this most fundamental theme of Western Thought. And, to see why Mannix is so special, consider this.
PI's that came later made it all lighter and airer. First, no PI got beat up like Joe Mannix ever since the series left the air. Second, some of the series tried to turn it all into breezy humor.
One analogy here is to the news. Reporters are also supposed to ask tough questions. But, when they try to be "entertaining" they take something serious -- pursuit of the truth -- and literally make a joke out of it. One of the very few places were you see tough questions asked by tough reporters is 60 Minutes -- but that show's lineage dates back to the days when Mannix was still in production.
These days the "toughest" news often comes from comedians instead -- people like Bill Maher, John Stewart and Steven Colbert. And the work they do in trying to hold people accountable is commendable. But, when there is a humorous edge to the pursuit of the truth, it loses its real message -- which is one that needs to be sent to each and every one of us. Seeking the truth isn't a matter of entertaining, it is a matter of being tough enough and committed enough to face consequences for do doing. Seeking the truth isn't a party -- it requires the ability to, at times, be the only one who can stand up for it, recognize this fact, and, literally, give everything you have for it.
This, incredibly deep, message inside of Mannix is one that is really there, much, again, to my own surprise -- and has not been there in the same way since in either movies or TV -- no PI has gotten beaten up like Joe Mannix for pursuit of the truth.
This is, yet again, another reason I am so glad to have Mannix back -- and, the observation that 60 Minutes may be the only purely tough news program left just reinforces my concern that we've lost something in these past 40 years -- something that is beneath all of the more superficial kinds of problems that have surfaced.
We need more myths like Joe Mannix that embody some of the best themes the West has ever produced at their most foundational, symbolic levels -- for myths are the way our culture is defined. They enable the best in us to identify with larger themes, and so we become larger, ourselves.
Robert,
Thanks for saying you enjoy the thread -- I sure do as well. And, thanks for your post!
And, I can really see your points in here!
I can't really disagree with any of them -- Adam is flashier, and initiates more humor -- but, even as I said, myself, in a previous thread, one thing I really enjoy about Mannix is that it kept its, overall, serious tone throughout the series -- and so I am forced to reconsider my opinion about who was, overall the better cop buddy for Joe.
And, I certainly agree that "Climb a Deadly Mountain" is great. Recently I had a certain situation I had to endure over a period of several days -- and I found myself watching that one episode over and over again -- I just love it. All kinds of wonderful things are in that episode. And, you are dead-on right about Art in that episode, and, overall.
Interestingly, I mentioned that Robert Reed may have inspired Zerbe's character in Harry O -- but, while there were some excellent scenes of interplay in Harry O, that series and character did not have anything like the deeper qualities of Mannix, and so I have to wonder if Mannix would have been the show it was if it had a full-time cop buddy like Adam all of the time. For one thing, I read where Mike Connors enjoyed the chemistry with Joe Campanella -- and he mentioned that he did with Robert Reed as well. But, the toughness of the character of Joe Mannix might never have come out to the same level if the show was built on any kind of lighthearted "buddy" relationship -- of the kind that have been in place in series after series ever since. Clearly Peggy is not a "buddy," but plays a very different kind of role -- as witness. And, Art is a buddy, of sorts -- but, as you point out, not a flashy one -- more of a serious one -- consistent with the way he was brought into the series in "End Game" (as you pointed out).
And, as I've said before, so many of the best qualities of Mannix were not planned, but rather evolved. This could be one of those!
So, the series many well have benefited, overall, by Robert Reed not being the full-time cop buddy in Mannix -- even though I still very much enjoy the appearances he did make.
And so you've managed to do something I did not think anyone could do.
You've made me thankful for The Brady Bunch.
Russ,
It can also be fun to do a race with new releases -- order from multiple sites and see which one comes to your door first. I did that for seasons 5 and 6 -- and for season 6, the one from dvdempire arrived a day early -- which was much appreciated because I was traveling the day of the actual release!
Looking forward to the race when season 7 is released....
And I'm very much looking forward to season 7!!
Just posted this over on the yahoo discussion group -- and thought I'd post it here as well (also corrected a few things from the post made over there -- must be rusty after coming back from a long trip...):
Oh, and, two other things.
First, I happened to come across this review of season 6 -- it's easier to surf than write when traveling:
http://crimespreemag.com/blog/2012/03/dvd-review-mannix-the-sixth-season.html
This is one of the best reviews of the Mannix DVDs that I've seen so far -- so much better than anything that ever came out of dvdtalk.com! I especially like the part where he says that Mannix holds up better over time than shows like Magnum, PI -- I can't agree with that enough, and really enjoy seeing that written about the show (I've seen that written other places as well, and that same observation certainly struck me when I reunited with the show just a little more than a year ago now). That is also one of the tests of a great myth -- it holds up over time.
He also gives some very good comments about Mike Connors. You just can't underestimate the way the character of Joe Mannix was built around him, how innovative it was at the time, how other shows drew from that innovation, and how singular the character remains -- no other character has quite the same set of qualities that Joe Mannix has. And, those differences between Joe Mannix and other characters make those other characters less -- if you simply look at the set of fundamental properties that belong to each character.
The only thing I disagree with in this review is that Rockford is in the same class with Mannix -- while Rockford was entertaining, it does not have the same level of depth, by a longshot. In fact, the transition of taste from Mannix to Rockford, in my opinion, parallels the transition the country had from intense, tough, serious-minded individuals towards the blissful state of lethargy that characterized the adult years of the baby boomer generation.
Second, I happened to notice that the episode of Diagnosis Murder in which Joe Mannix appears is on one of the Encore channels on March 21. Now, I wound up not really liking that episode, because it gave Joe Mannix a heart problem, which didn't seem to have much point. But, I do remember eagerly -- very eagerly -- anticipating it when it first aired. Seeing a fresh sort of episode of Mannix over 20 years after the show ended was mind blowing. And, since it is on Encore, I guess they won't do the normal butcher job for commercials.
Well, I have no idea if anyone is following things here or not -- even Mark and Richard seem to have disappeared -- but, supposing there is someone out there like I used to be, just following this thread for fun and information on Mannix, I'll keep posting. Actually, it's kind of fun to feel a bit more comfortable doing what you think is right and not caring as much if anyone sees it or not -- and this is a gift that came in no small part by loving the character of Joe Mannix all of these years, and especially now, this second time around when I can see the difference more clearly.
I've been catching up on the season 6 DVDs over the past couple of nights, after being away for awhile. And, that season, in particular, is loaded with these individual scenes that are incredibly short, but just brilliant for conveying what the character is all about -- and what quality character means. These scenes could never be possible without the character having established himself during the prior seasons, and that is what I meant in previous posts where I said that the character of Joe Mannix evolved over the years -- there was a collection of common themes underneath, but the way they were presented evolved, making the series seem that much more like eight years in the life of a character rather than some pre-packaged formula that was intended to remain consistent with whatever original idea was pitched to the network by some series creator.
One of these incredibly short but brilliant scenes takes place in "The Upside Down Penny." There is this scene where Joe goes to look for the missing stamp album, and he winds up at one of those baseball throwing booths at a carnival -- which happens to be on the Santa Monica Pier. So, when Joe goes up to the counter, he puts down his money to play the game in order to have something to do when he asks the guy in the booth if he ever saw the missing stamp album. Joe gets three baseballs to toss -- and with each of the first two, thrown while talking with the guy, knocks most of the milk bottles down. Then, after he's done talking with the guy, he has one baseball left. And, he knocks the last bottles down. Now, he's already given this guy money for information, in addition to the token money for playing the game, and he got no real information from the guy. But, he won the game. So, he's entitled to a prize. And, what does he do? Walk away satisfied that he won? Nope. He gets the greatest smirk on his face -- one of those classic, half-smiles that only Mike Connors could seem to do so well -- and stands there, waiting for his stuffed animal prize.
Now, most likely when I first watched this, I didn't get it. I thought, why is he doing that -- wouldn't it have been more classy to just walk away, having won anyway?
But, now I realize the difference. He won the game. It actually takes more guts to stand there and get the prize than it does to do what you are "supposed" to do in a situation like that.
So, the guy behind the counter begrudgingly hands him a giant stuffed animal and Joe takes it -- and actually takes out a moment to blow on it, for some reason! He's enjoying the moment!
And, of course, there is a kid just standing there who gets the stuffed animal from Joe.
Now, that scene might go un-noticed upon first glance -- but that is exactly what brilliance is. It gets to you without your having to work to be aware of it.
First, Joe bothers to play the game. You get the impression that he wants to for more than just the sake of killing time. For all of the beatings he takes, you get the sense that, deep down, Joe enjoys being Joe Mannix -- his core character is to accept painful situations, but not to live miserably. He enjoys being who he is and doing what he can do. Then, of course, he wins. You'd expect that of Joe -- but, you could also imagine him not winning the kid's game, and just shrugging his shoulders and walking away. But, he does win -- and he has enough confidence in himself to not feel the least bit troubled standing there accepting a giant stuffed animal for having won -- and not only that, but actually enjoying it!
And, it is this latter part, so understated (as all of Mannix is), but so brilliant, that gets to you. You not only see, but feel his kind of confidence in that scene. And, by seeing it, you are just a bit changed by it yourself.
After all, Joe Mannix can only get away with that because his confidence is real, based upon the things he has done -- not the incredibly cheap kind of "self esteem" made popular in recent years, precisely built upon trying to avoid painful situations -- in stark contrast to the way Joe Mannix's confidence is well earned.
Joe Mannix had real confidence precisely because he did not avoid painful situations.
That kind of scene was only possible because, first, Mannix went for class in the first place -- the character wasn't a cheapened kind of hero of the sort that became popular in the mid-70's (ultimately leading to that cheaper kind of "self-esteem" as opposed to real confidence and character). The character of Joe Mannix was a pure kind of hero who always stayed true to a core set of characteristics. Second, Mike Connors was great at just that kind of scene -- at just that kind of very subtle facial expression that conveys so much -- and has the potential to stay with you.
By the way, another extremely brief, but important, scene that conveys one of these core characteristics takes place in season 5's "Death is the Fifth Gear," This scene was striking to me because it was edited out in the syndicated versions run on TVLand -- it blew me away when I saw it on the DVDs, after not having seen it in nearly 40 years -- and this is an example of how that kind of editing ruins a show like Mannix.
In that episode, just after Joe goes back to the nurse's apartment after visiting the doctor's house (and Joe is in a lot of trouble at that point), she asks him. "What can you do alone?" And his answer is, even in a weary and extremely confused state of mind, "Whatever it is, I gotta do it." And she looks at that response, and takes it in -- she sees the core of his character.
And that was one of the essential features of Joe Mannix's character -- whatever it is, he does it -- alone -- and come what may.
Of course, one of the running gags on the show is that the police are always coming just a few seconds "too late," always forcing Joe to take on the bad guys alone -- things are always wrapped up by the time the police get there. And, you might just think that is just a gag. But, of course, in Mannix it is more than that -- it shows that the character is one that ultimately does not rely upon anyone else but himself.
And that is why the show has held up so well -- appears so much more timeless than others.
I just can't think of any other show that has these kind of core qualities -- and so well done to boot.
And that is why Mannix is one great myth -- simultaneously universal in nature, and uniquely Western in origin and spirit.
Because, when you have that particular kind of confidence and that kind of core character value, together, you have one great myth -- one that you can use, one that might just make you do more, yourself, all alone, where all great things are ultimately accompished, than you would have otherwise.
Dave,
Thanks very much for your comments, especially that you love the posts. Hey, I obviously don't need much encouragement to keep posting here, but some, especially when the thread goes quiet for an extended period of time, sure does help!
Since you brought it up, "The Open Web" is one of those truly excellent episodes that has a little bit of everything in it. It has great non-verbal communications, one of the best Joe-Peggy scenes of the entire series, a sort of amazing stunt by Mike Connors, a really interesting appearance by a named (in the future) guest star, great interaction with Joe-Art, humor (especially that scene where Joe is shooting the kid's gun) and even a score by Lalo Shiffrin, himself (and thanks to Thomas on the Mannix yahoo discussion group for pointing that last one out).
Just to elaborate on a couple of those -- first, consider that scene where Peggy enters the office in the morning, only to discover Joe asleep on the couch after having consumed an entire bottle of scotch (we know this because the bottle was unopened the night before, and empty the next morning). She enters to find the light in her office with the bulb replaced but the glass shade shot to pieces. The piano music in the background is so subtle -- a classic. Now, just try and write down, in words, everything that is conveyed completely non-verbally by Gail Fisher during that scene. (I'll put some words down, but they are not all that can be written about that scene.) She sees the broken light, and surely she knows what happened in there the night before. She picks up a piece of the broken shade and reflects upon it -- someone died there the night before, and it was supposed to be Joe. She notices that the light is on in Joe's office. She conveys how that is unusual -- she is surprised. She goes in to turn it off -- and on the way discovers Joe lying there on the couch. She is, in one single moment, both surprised -- clearly he is not typically found there when she arrives for the day -- and relieved to see that he is still alive. Of course, she knows he wasn't killed the night before, but it's still a relief. She walks over to turn the light off. After so doing, she finds the bottle of empty scotch. In one moment, she simultaneously conveys recognition of why Joe is there, acknowledgment as to why he drank the scotch -- and disappointment that he did. She realizes she will probably need to wake him up, since he is clearly going to be hungover -- and she walks over and utters her first word of the scene, "Joe."
All of this was conveyed completely non-verbally. And, if I consider the contextual relationship of those two characters -- which always underlies scenes in Mannix -- I could add a whole lot more words to that scene -- which has no words in it at all!
While a much longer scene than most, part of the brilliance of Mannix is how much information is conveyed by facial expressions -- and this one long scene is just one example of that. Other, much shorter, scenes with similar visual brilliance populate the entire series.
Next, consider the stunt Mike Connors does when he is climbing up the side of the hill/mountain to get to where Art is being held hostage. That is something I would not have noticed the first time I watched the episode nearly 40 years ago. In fact, I have to admit that I practically overlooked the physical stunts Mike Connors did himself -- didn't really notice them nor appreciate the energy and realism they brought to the show. But, notice how he grabs a rope and makes it quite a ways up the side of that hill, himself, before the cut where the scene was taken over by a stunt man. Mike Connors actually slipped a couple of times along the way. And this was well into the period where we was supposed to be doing less of his own stunts. After all, it only took a simple slip to result in some kind of injury that would have shut the show down -- and that would have been incredibly easy to do in that kind of stunt -- but, true to form, the show seemed to have such an energy level to it as a result of being on the edge like that. And, this episode was filmed very early in the season -- not the first to be filmed, but early enough that it could have ruined a big chunk of the season.
Rip Torn -- oh yeah -- I remembered him from "The Larry Sanders Show" and when I saw him in "The Open Web" all these years later I thought, "Don't I know that guy?" When recognition hit that it was him I laughed out loud. He was crazy good! I always liked him as an actor -- maybe because I once saw him in Mannix and remembered.
And, the interaction between Joe and Art -- I remember noticing that when I first watched the episode when it originally aired.
One thing to remember -- this was the opening episode of season 6, and the first one aired on Sunday night, which is where the show aired during its last three seasons (except when CBS moved the reruns of season 8 to Wednesday nights and it rated extremely high, even hitting number one at least once, if memory serves). And, for me, I had been in love with the series since, essentially, it first began -- pre-awareness for me, actually, but deep in my memory. Prior to the opening of season 6, the last fresh episode I had seen was "Death is the Fifth Gear" -- an episode in which you might say the relationship with Art wasn't exactly ideal. After all, Art was convinced Joe was a killer and ready to have him committed. So, after a summer full of re-runs of season 5, I was so ready for season 6.
When you are a kid, the anticipation of the opening of a fresh season of a series you love is indescribable. So, the opener for s6 was "The Open Web" and the experience of watching it is burned into my memory. It really kind of established the relationship between Joe and Art for the remainder of the series, in addition to taking the series to a completely different, more adult, sophisticated level with that opening scene between Joe and Peggy. Mannix was always its own show anyway, first in the original concept of season 1 and then pretty much 1/3 of the way through season 2 when it broke out of the classic PI mould patterned after old Bogart movies and into its own, singular kind of hero motif. But, the realization of "it's own thing" continued to evolve with each season. And, "The Open Web" really established a new level of sophistication -- I remember feeling that as a kid when I watched that episode, first-run. The irony here is that as a kid I didn't want to see this -- because it was in many ways too sophisticated for me to appreciate! How does a kid really appreciate the brilliance of that scene when Peggy enters the office and all of the nuance of "A Puzzle for One" or that Joe broke the law in "The Faces of Murder?" Most definitely, season 6 was the hardest for me to relate to as a kid. But, as an adult, I can see that it is one of the best, starting with "The Open Web."
It so happens that for some reason the last DVD I popped in before going to bed was the one with "Bang Bang, You're Dead" -- and I watched most of it just last night, including that car scene. That's another example of how Mannix had, well you could say in this case perhaps a little too much realism to the stunts -- but, no one got hurt and gee, it just makes me wish I could live another life and have had the chance, even just once, to visit a Mannix set while the show was being filmed.
It so happens that, over the past few hours, I was discussing the difference between Mannix and Rockford with a friend. Now, the first thing to know is that I don't generally go around discussing Mannix. First, the circle of people I tend to be around are, well, nerds, even as I am a professional, licensed nerd, myself -- and nerds tend to have a different kind of hero motif (of the sort I also had at one point in my life, actually -- I used to be quite the Star Trek fan). But, the subject of that review of season 6 came up -- the one for which I posted a link a few posts back. I mentioned that this guy did a real good review of Mannix, but did a common thing and seemed to presume that Rockford took Mannix to the next level or improved upon it or something.
This has always gotten to me, because Rockford tends to have more of a fan base, or so it would seem, while, at least for me, Mannix was so much the better show that I wouldn't even put the two of them in the same category. I do not consider Rockford to be an improvement over Mannix, and have always considered it to be not only somehow cheaper, but evidence of some sort of decline in the US that took hold during that period of time.
And, as it so happens this person had the same reaction. And, this person, who is not among my normal circle of nerds, is actually something of an expert on myths, as it so happens.
But, beyond that, he gave me a statement that has stuck with me -- really helped to clear up something I have had difficulty putting into words.
His statement, which I am quoting -- and think I remember correctly -- goes something like this: "Rockford was a wiseguy. He was 'above it all' while Mannix was more engaged. Mannix was much more of a classic hero type."
Now, I'd credit this person with this observation, but he prefers to remain anonymous -- quoting him is OK though.
For me, this observation really helped -- so much that I might not be able to put all of the reasons why into a single post.
Because, an incredible amount of the popular culture in the US since around 1975 has been built upon this feeling of being "above it all" and not needing to really be engaged, especially all alone, and especially with things that could potentially hurt you or even destroy you. Rockford makes a person feel that it is OK to feel somehow "superior" due to some kind of wit or charm -- and this can provide the false sense of seeming like an evolution of some kind. After all, the overall pain level in Rockford is significantly less. There is less depth, overall, and yet he would seem, at least on the surface, to accomplish the same kinds of things that Joe Mannix does. Rockford appeals to our sense of getting something for free because we are somehow blessed.
But, real life isn't like that -- and, as the baby boomers get older, I wonder if they can't see that better now that they have encountered a lot more stuff (I encountered significant "stuff" from an early age on, so I've seen it, perhaps, a bit longer). This "stuff" is not only unavoidable, but we ultimately face it alone -- and how we do so defines our character. This is far from the youthful appeal of Rockford -- when we are young we all like to think we will be blessed enough to get out of life easier than others -- it is the more mature, or perhaps simply more intelligent content of a series like Mannix, which makes the hard stuff of life seem not only appealing but desirable.
And, beyond this, notice how Joe Mannix does what he does on purpose -- he isn't pushed into it, he seems to do it because he concluded at one point that he is supposed to do those things, in part because he can, sort of like "to whom much has been given, much is expected."
I never saw those two series the same way lots of other people seem to. And, today, a big piece of why went off in my head like a light bulb -- thanks to the observations of that one person who studies the kind of content that I now find so fascinating -- that of myths and archetypes.
Long live Joe Mannix.
There has not been a character on TV like him since -- but I wish he would be in more demand in our culture again.
Maybe a hunger for themes that run significantly deeper than those held in the TV and movie characters that came after Mannix will come back with the next generation -- because they will have to face more significantly challenges than the baby boomers had to face in their adult years. They say that lots of things skip a generation. We'll see.
