
It’s not exactly realistic, but it’s an unexpected bit of grit in the cream cheese of the era. Barnett opens the bullet-riddled door, puzzled, and then jumps back, just as the killer lets off another burst. The noirish sequence featured a man being pursued down the empty mean streets of New York City, only to wind up at Barnett’s door–where he’s machine gunned by an unknown assailant off camera.
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Still, in the early days of television, just a little hard-boiled went a long way, and Man Against Crime was considered one of the most violent TV shows of its time.Īnd even today, the opening credits for the syndicated version, Follow That Man, can raise a few eyebrows. According to T elevision: A History, by Francis Wheen (London: Century Publishing, 1985), writers on the show were told that “somebody must be murdered, preferably early, with the threat of more violence to come…Bellamy must be menaced early and often.”īellamy looked the part - he was a tall, beefy guy, but he just came off as altogether too genial. They solved this by writing in an elastic “search scene” near the end of each episode, that could be stretched out or shortened to fit.īut eventually the big switch was made to film n the fall of 1952, giving the fight and chase scenes an added touch of authenticity. The shows were done live for its first three seasons ( good luck finding any of thodse episodes!), with all the usual problems that entailed–such as not quite fitting into its allotted time. The New York Times described him as “an average fellow, not too bright and not too dumb, quick-fisted, amiable and something of a modern Sir Galahad.” Whatever, the show was a hit, especially on the tube, where it won a national popularity poll as best mystery on television for its third year.

And Mike got around, popping up in New Orleans, Stockholm, Vienna, and Lisbon, among other locations. Take that, Hammer!Īlong with Martin Kane, which made its debut only a few weeks earlier, Man Against Crime (1949-54) was part of a one-two punch that set the scene for a long, long string of television eyes. Featured on both radio and television, MIKE BARNETT was a New York private eye so tough he didn’t need a gun.
