Reviews

This episode has haunted me since I first saw it...and I was an adult when I first viewed it. I am very grateful my parents chose to view this episode without five year old me in attendance. It may be the battle fatigue speaking, but, this episode is both real and surreal...Hitchcock-like and totally awry. Baby Andy, mother Louise and father Wally Marshall may stay with you. The nine year old boy and OCD mother with British accent (from another Dragnet episode on child abuse) may not have had the power, but this fractured family did. Brooke Bundy never achieved superstar status, but she gave Dragnet the acting performance of her career, albeit a bit shrilly. It could have been a merely superficial acting job. But to this viewer, she conveyed the horrifying truth: there can be no "innocence" when it comes to abuse. Louise presents a pretty picture, both visually and verbally; she put a chillingly realistic face on the abuser. One has the fervent desire to believe Wally is the guilty one...just as Friday, Gannon and the courts ultimately believe. Neighbors want to turn a blind eye to the good-looking white collar couple with infant, who drink martinis to the rhythm of light jazz, and polish their color TV, electric can opener and ice shaver. The health, safety and welfare of children brings out the tiger in Joe Friday and who could blame him? Unfortunately, there have been too many more victims of abuse since the comparably idyllic era depicted in this episode. No longer can dependency be viewed as a one-way thoroughfare. Child battering, like co-dependency, can hide, lurking within generations of pretty little packages...ready to strike at any time.

This episode touches upon the subject and, also, upon the nemesis of the pilot of Prime Suspect, George Marlow. Unfortunately for us, the creators did not use the same actor in both episodes and this episode suffers for it. The character lost most of his chillingly charming "Ted Bundy-like" impact due to the ill-advised casting. The entire Prime Suspect series revolves around the complexities, quirks and demons that comprise Jane Tennison throughout her career: one clearly sees that one CANNOT "have it all," an American colloquialism that is depressing in its banality and lack of truth. Certainly, most current crime and psychological dramas that carry any real impact, both British and American, have benefited immensely from the impeccable model set by the Prime Suspect body of work and the attendant BBC production values. Prior to this show, most crime shows were not very realistic and the characters were not very complex or compelling. Early serial killers lacked "layers," making them one-dimensional and unbelievable. Early crime and psychological dramas lacked the rhythm and personality that distinguishes every person, every snowflake and every breath of air. One show could easily be substituted as any other one simply by changing a title, crime or character. Painstakingly exact depiction of legal procedure and method was never hallmarked in many earlier pieces because these matters are considered tedious and mundane. (The notable exceptions are the shows in which Jack Webb participated and/or created; at least, considering the 1950s and 1960s "status quo ante," Jack Webb utilized the few tools available to him at the time.) This PS episode poorly distinguished itself, from a series which always garners 9 point and above ratings from this viewer, chiefly in the final 2-3 minutes of film. The Jane Tennison so valued by this viewer would never have reacted as she was depicted. No professional, male or female, who had the tenacity and testicular fortitude to achieve her position and responsibilities at the Metropolitan would have thus disgraced herself. The real Jane, a la LaPlante, would have made a cutting remark to the entire "nob" table when she turned back to face them. Without missing a beat, LaPlante's Jane would have said that she, too, had heard from various sources that David was having trouble having "hard feelings" for ANYONE AT ALL and perhaps, he should consult his urologist! Head held high, with the male laughter virtually castrated, Jane would have glided away, smiling, as the credits rolled. The actual ending, coupled with the poor casting of George Marlow, left me vaguely dissatisfied with this episode and the future direction of the Tennison character.