Careering downhill with the latest U.S. offering

Press, 7 August 1985, Page 15

Careering downhill with the latest U.S. offering

[Review 1

Ian Hutchison

SPLAT! A new series hit our screens last week. It is called “Crazy like a Fox” and its time slot is 8.30 p.m. Friday evenings. No prizes for guessing, but, yes, it is yet another American product. As the word SPLAT suggests, the programme has no substance. In fact, it is pretty punk. It is flat, formless and formulaic. It is in the same mould as “Riptide,” “Simon and Simon” and (yes, it is coming to assault our senses again) the “A-Team.” A big problem with “Crazy like a Fox” is its sharp, super-sleek narrative. It is like one of Robin Hood’s arrows. It leaves the bow and hurtles straight to its target without so much as a comfort stop. The storyline moves directly from point A to point B. A good narrative is not just a single, straightforward, unfolding storyline. A good narrative is one where at least two or three stories are entwined, providing variety, interest and, because of their conflicting interaction, drama. Especially good examples are “Coronation Street,” “Dallas” and “Hill Street Blues.” At least three distinct narrative strands can be identified in them. They are those which deal with the private, personal and

public or professional aspects of a character or characters. In “Crazy like a Fox” the storyline is essentially a public-professional one. It is about 55-year-old Harry Fox and his investigations. He and his son, Harrison K. Fox, are either being chased or are chasing someone. Admittedly, the narrative did have a personal aspect to it. This revolved around Harrison’s wife, Cindy, and their son, Josh, and the CalStanford football game on their cinerama television set in the lounge of their home. Home, though, is just a pit stop, a place to grab refreshments while hounding the baddies. You guessed it. The programme has its regulation car chase sequences ending with, you guessed it again, a

car like a beetle on its back. Of course, it is a bit hard to resist the roller-coaster appeal of San Francisco’s 90 degree angle streets, even if you do have your foot planted firmly on the brake pedal. Gravity will, after all, prevail. This must be the reason for the programme having four writers. Columbia employed them not to write stories (evidenced by the fact there was practically no story), but to help try to hold the cars back from slipping at breakneck speeds down San Francisco’s streets. Needless to say, they are not doing a very good job. Indeed, even the characters have problems defying the 90 degree streets and the laws of gravity. Walking is impossible and jogging is out. Characters are forced by Newton’s law to gallop everywhere. Fortunately, however, this looks as though it is a natural part of the story — goodies chasing baddies, baddies chasing goodies. The only high point in the

whole programme (apart from the tops of the 90 degree streets) was watching 55-year-old Harry gallop headlong downhill. Just ahead of him was his stomach and breasts (yes, he had breasts!) not quite knowing whether to go on ahead without him or hang about and see if the rest of him was keeping up. His body shirt, to say the least, was stretched to the limit. A point worth mentioning is that the hero, 55-year-old Harry, is by television’s standards quite old. He is to television what Ronald Reagan is to reality. This equation is based on Harry’s large cowboy belt buckle, the sort of thing that has come to symbolise Ronald Reagan and the traditional, western, Right, wing values he stands for. Harry signifies America’s new found faith in the strength, potency and active mobility of old age. Mind you, anyone, especially a 55-year-old, can look active and mobile if they live on the side of a 90 degree angle street.