September 17, 1972 marked the ‘Return of the Mac’, not to mention the car, the cigar and the eccentric mannerisms. Yessir, Columbo was back for a hotly-anticipated second season, seven months after Season 1 rounded out.
TV show line-ups didn’t come much stronger. Joining Peter Falk were screen icons John Cassavetes and Myrna Loy, as well as future superstar Blythe Danner. Although series creators Dick Levinson and Bill Link had moved upstairs, the episode was penned by Steven Bochco; the mastermind behind Murder by the Book.
So far so good, then, but does Etude in Black live up to the hype? Let’s apply our boutonnieres, leaf through our dog name’s dictionary, and bust out our MASSIVE robotic conducting arm moves to find out if it’ll be a standing ovation or a Bronx cheer at episode’s end…
Dramatis personae
Lieutenant Columbo: Peter Falk
Alex Benedict: John Cassavetes
Janice Benedict: Blythe Danner
Lizzi Fielding: Myrna Loy
Jennifer Welles: Anjanette Comer
Paul Rifkin: James Olson
William: James McEachin
Audrey: Dawn Frame
House Boy: Pat Morita
And introducing… Dog!
Directed by: Nicholas Colasanto
Written by: Steven Bochco
Score by: Dick De Benedictis
Episode synopsis – Columbo Etude in Black
Musical Maestro Alex Benedict (John Cassavetes) has a problem – and one that threatens his glittering career as a celebrity conductor. He’s been romping with thigh-revealing pianist Jennifer Welles, who believes their primal love will provide greater sustenance to Benedict’s soul than his ‘safe’ marriage to Janice (Blythe Danner) and the zillions of dollars said marriage entitles him to.
Jennifer – clearly not a good judge of characters – is wrong. Benedict hatches a dastardly plot to rid himself of the ivory tinkling trouble-maker. Leaving his Jag at a grimy mechanic’s shop, Benedict gets a lift to the Hollywood Bowl with wife Janice to begin his prep for the evening’s symphony.
After bossing a few underlings around, Benedict retires to his dressing room for a nap. And when we says ‘nap’, what we really mean is ice-cold, premeditated MURDER. Before the killing, however, Benedict has got some work to do. He’s already faked a suicide note from Jennifer, so donning an amazingly conspicuous and memorable disguise of a long beige trench coat and HUGE sunglasses, Benedict sets out from the Bowl and jogs – in broad daylight no less – back to the car workshop.
“Musical maestro Alex Benedict has been romping with thigh-revealing pianist Jennifer Welles.”
He enters via a window of the rankest-looking toilet in TV history and confidently leaps into his extremely eye-catching and memorable Jaguar, which he drives to Jennifer’s house and parks literally around the corner. Did I mention already that all this is done in broad daylight? Benedict has balls, I’ll give him that…
Entering the house, Benedict pashes with Jennifer, who gives him an ultimatum: tell your wife about us, or I will! He assures her he’ll break the bad news to Janice ASAP, and tasks Jennifer with playing a heart-warming ditty on the piano. As she obliges, Benedict wraps a heavy ashtray in a cloth and clocks her around the back of the swede with it. He’s got 99 problems, but Jennifer Welles ain’t one of them anymore…
Benedict plants the faux suicide note in Jennifer’s typewriter, lifts her limp frame into the kitchen and turns on the oven gas to make it look like she took her own life. He then returns his car to the garage, seemingly not considering the odometer will show the mileage increase.
The perfect crime? Hardly, Maestro. While lifting Jennifer’s stricken frame from the piano, Benedict’s boutonnier – a tell-tale pink carnation – has fallen to the floor. He hasn’t noticed, and it’s the only thing that can tie him to the scene (if you exclude the disguise, the car mileage, the workshop break-in etc, etc). Will it come back to haunt him?
Hours pass… Safely back at the Bowl, Benedict is informed that one of his musicians hasn’t showed up for the concert. Who? None other than Jennifer Welles, of course. Flying into a temper, Benedict orders an immediate change to the concert program while raging at Jennifer’s lack of reliability. His own ability to trip her phone number off the tip of his tongue alerts his wife’s suspicions, though, who struggles to maintain her belief in her man for the rest of the episode.
It’s now that Lieutenant Columbo is called into action. He’s at the vet’s getting a shot for his new dog – a slovenly basset hound he rescued from the pound – when he receives a summons to get to Jennifer’s house where she’s been found dead.
Although all signs point to a suicide, little things immediately bother Columbo. Why would someone so talented and beautiful want to take her own life? And if she loved her pet cockatoo so much, why would she allow it to die of gas poisoning too?
The emergence of Alex Benedict at the house also provides some food for thought for Columbo as he witnesses the Maestro picking up a flower from the floor near the piano and attaching it to his lapel. Benedict claims it fell off as he removed his coat there and then. If Columbo knows otherwise he doesn’t say so, although it’s not the sort of detail that normally escapes him.
The scene is enlivened further as drunk trumpeter Paul – a former lover of Jennifer’s – stumbles onto the scene, braying about how there’s no way Jennifer would take her own life. The proverbial plot is well and truly thickening.
As Columbo’s investigations continue, we fall into the same delightful pattern the show so enamoured us with in Season 1. The Lieutenant fastens himself to his suspect, seeking his (oft ludicrous) opinion on all matters of the case, and is there every time Benedict turns around, unsettling him at the car yard, at his home and in his place of work.
He even seeks assistance from an unlikely source: young Audrey, Jennifer’s precocious next door neighbour (for ‘precocious’ read ‘annoying’). She says she can identify Jennifer’s love interest, who is someone from the orchestra. Sensing triumph, Columbo whips her along to an orchestral session. Can she identify Jennifer’s lover? You bet she can! Only the joke’s on Columbo this time, as Audrey IDs drunkard Paul instead of Benedict.
“The Lieutenant gets one of his trademark lucky breaks when returning to the vet’s to get a booster shot for the dog.”
The Lieutenant doesn’t give up that easily, though, and he gets one of his trademark lucky breaks when returning to the vet’s to get a booster shot for the dog. A re-run of the Benedict concert from the previous week is on air and the wily detective is finally able to lock in on some hard evidence.
Calling the Benedicts to the Hollywood Bowl’s recording studio to watch some video tapes of the previous concert, Columbo makes his case. ‘Look!’ he points out during a freeze frame. Benedict doesn’t have a flower in his lapel during the concert.
So what, comes the response from Benedict. I don’t always wear one. But you picked one up from the floor at Jennifer Welles’ house, points out Columbo. That’s your word against mine, retorts Benedict, and I don’t remember that at all.
What about this, says Columbo, flashing up footage of Benedict speaking to the media in the aftermath of her death being revealed. Another freeze frame clearly shows a carnation in his lapel. Where did it come from? When Janice refuses to back up Benedict’s claim that she pinned it on him straight after the concert, the game is up. Whispering words of love in his wife’s ear, Benedict salutes Columbo and allows himself to be escorted down town.
After making sure Mrs Benedict is being taken care of, Columbo takes his seat to watch the full re-run of the concert as credits roll…
Etude in Black‘s best moment: Chopsticks at the Bowl
Nothing beats the simple pleasure of seeing Columbo indulging in some cheeky Chopsticks action at a deserted Hollywood Bowl.
Not only is it charming in its own right, but the moment also leads into a delicious, extended hypothetical debate between the Lieutenant and Benedict about whether the Maestro could have committed the crime, and ends with Columbo shattering Benedict’s impregnability by revealing that his superiors are letting him investigate the case as a homicide. There’s even a classic ‘Just one more thing…’ thrown in for good measure. Lovely stuff…
My take on Etude in Black
Having canvassed many a fan’s opinion on the matter over a period of years, I’m fully aware that Etude is treasured by a high percentage of Columbo fans. Many even rate it as their single favourite episode. So, it’s with a hushed voice and guilty heart that I must reveal I don’t like it that much. If I haven’t instantly lost your respect and attention, I’m grateful. And if you’ll hear me out, I’ll state my case.
Etude in Black marked the first episode (pilots excluded) with the longer 90+minute running time, which would have been 2 hours on network TV including ads. Season 1 episodes ran for about 75 minutes each (90 mins with ads) and were almost all perfectly paced. But Columbo was such a hit, the network, NBC, insisted on some longer episodes to maximise advertising revenue.
Many Columbo purists, myself included, think that move was a mistake. It led to widespread padding out of scenes in the longer episodes. The stories had a tendency to sag and the potential to lose viewers’ attention. It’s no coincidence that few of my personal top 10 Columbo episodes are ‘long’ ones.
And while Etude was the first of these longer episodes, it suffers less than some that followed it because, unlike subsequent long episodes, Etude was originally intended as a regular-length transmission. Indeed, the 75-minute version aired in Canada before an extended cut was foisted on US audiences, but while there are some scenes added for padding, the scenes themselves haven’t been padded out. That’s an important distinction.
In later episodes it became clear that there wasn’t always enough material to justify the longer running time. So scenes that could have been raced through were drawn out to the nth degree. Think of Carsini’s real-time car manoeuvring in Any Old Port in a Storm; the endless garage investigation scene in Candidate for Crime; and the agonising wait for the computer printer in Exercise in Fatality.
“Etude in Black is arguably the most ambitious episode since Ransom for a Dead Man.”
Those episodes are damaged by the longer running time because scenes become a bore – something that’s largely avoided in Etude. While it’s easy to identify scenes in Etude that appear to have been added in later, they’re actually not bad in their own right. The scene where Columbo drops in on Benedict in his own house is a prime example. It’s a classic unsettling move by the Lieutenant, visiting his quarry in their own backyard while never asking a single question relevant to the case – and leaving with an autograph for his wife.
The scene eats up more than five minutes without ostensibly progressing the plot at all. It’s fun stuff, but it’s not strictly necessary – and wasn’t part of the original story. Cassavetes’ shorter haircut is testament to it being filmed weeks later and cut in to bump up the running time.
I’ve never seen the shorter version of Etude, but writer Bochco and Falk himself both admitted that the extra running time did it no favours. I find it an episode that I struggle to really commit to for the full duration. Still, its length is not the sole reason why Etude remains on the fringes of my Columbo favourites. For my money, the central clue just isn’t compelling enough. I don’t think Benedict would cave in on the evidence of the lapel flower. Sure, it doesn’t look good, but it falls short of condemning him.
I liken it to Murder by the Book. Ken Franklin could’ve talked his way out of that fix in a second. Similarly Benedict had a way out. Because he often wears a carnation and had just taken his coat off, he might simply have assumed the one on the floor was his and picked it up. It could plausibly belong to someone else and could have been dropped much earlier.
We learn later that the carnations are a rare type, grown specifically for Benedict by his wife in their garden. I think this point could have been laboured further. It would have been easy for the script to include a reference to these particular carnations being absolutely unique to the region and that the one found at the crime scene could only have come from Janice’s garden. That way, Benedict would have far less wriggle-room in a court of law. His admission of guilt seems too convenient a way to paper over this rather feeble gotcha, which makes for an unsatisfying finale.
“For my money, the central clue just isn’t compelling enough. I don’t think Benedict would cave in on the evidence of the lapel flower.”
With the carnation clue in mind, I put forward a tantalising alternative path the episode could have followed to lead to a much more damning indictment against Benedict. The dropped flower at the crime scene would remain central – but in this instance Benedict wouldn’t return to the crime scene to get it, instead not noticing his loss. The entire symphony orchestra would normally wear pink carnations and Benedict’s being absent on concert footage would alert Columbo to his potential guilt.
However, without being able to verify that everyone in the orchestra was wearing a flower, the Lieutenant would remain uncertain about the killer’s identity until closer examination of the bloom revealed it to be a special kind – the kind only grown by Janice Benedict specifically for her husband. That would absolutely tie Benedict to the scene of the crime, while pulling the rug out utterly from under him at the end of the episode. While it would have required some substantial reworking of the script, I think this scenario could have worked well.
Something else that could perhaps have been tightened up was Benedict’s reckless approach to setting up the murder. Lest we forget, he takes a heck of a lot of chances getting to Jennifer’s house from the Hollywood Bowl, wearing an extremely conspicuous outfit as he jogged about in broad daylight, and then parking his extremely memorable car right around the corner from the victim’s house! If nothing else, one has to admire his chutzpah but I really don’t consider his actions very plausible if avoiding attention was his goal.
Yet for all that, I can understand why many fans love Etude in Black. It has some marvellous moments and is arguably the most ambitious episode since Ransom for a Dead Man. It’s almost cinematic in scale, with its extensive use of location shooting and the epic orchestral score – featuring Chopin, Beethoven and Mozart – putting it a level above most episodes in terms of production values.
“I’m no expert, but isn’t a conductor’s baton supposed to be caressed rather than wielded?”
Cassavetes’ friendship with Falk was a crucial factor in him taking on the role of Alex Benedict and his casting was a seriously high-profile one by television standards. True to form, the two seem to revel in each other’s company, although I don’t feel they zing in the same way Falk and Jack Cassidy do. And while it’s a relatively minor gripe, I can’t help thinking Cassavetes could’ve tried a little bit harder to look like he really knew how to conduct an orchestra.
I’m no expert, but isn’t a conductor’s baton supposed to be caressed rather than wielded (no double entendres intended)? Yet Cassavetes’ arm movements are as stiff and stilted as they come – and nowhere near being in time with the music. It’s as if his only direction was: Pretend to be conducting an orchestra really badly. if so, he carried out his instructions to the letter. He’s certainly no match for this chap…
The calibre of the supporting cast was suitably grand, too. Cassavetes is impressive enough, but to have silver screen Goddess Myrna Loy also gracing the episode was a real coup. Playing Janice’s mother Lizzi Fielding, Loy’s role was a small one but the charisma and authority she brought cannot be overstated. Dare I say it, Etude could have benefited from a few more minutes of her time.
Blythe Danner was also a hit as the vulnerable Janice Benedict, hoping against hope that her husband wasn’t really the git she suspects him to be. Danner, who was pregnant with daughter Gwyneth Paltrow at the time, was sympathetic without ever being pathetic. One senses Janice has the moral fibre to bounce back from this blow and get back on with her life at some point – something that can’t always be said for the many wronged wives of the wider series.
There are even cameos for the awesome Jimmy McEachin, as Benedict’s sidekick William, and Pat Morita (AKA Mr Miyagi) as the mysteriously titled ‘House Boy’, who allows Columbo into the Benedict residence, so there’s plenty to surprise and delight the keen viewer. And, last but not least, we welcome ‘Dog’ into the fold. The lovable mutt would go on to win the hearts of millions of viewers and there’s plenty of fun to be had during his debut as Columbo struggles to get to grips with the responsibility of pet ownership.
Just about the only character that irks is the precocious Audrey – Jennifer’s pre-teen neighbour whose sassy attitude towards Columbo and his lack of pet-tending skillz quickly starts to grate. For me, her scenes singularly fail to provide the injection of humour that I suspect was the intention.
So there we have it. Etude is an interesting study. On one hand majestic, dynamic and a quite amazing statement of intent for the season. On the other, it’s mired in plot holes that prevent it delivering the sucker punch the lavish settings and big budget set it up for.
As a result, it has never completely won me over. The heart wants to love Etude in Black. The head, like Janice Benedict suspiciously eyeing her husband, can’t ever fully commit. So, it’s warm applause at episode’s end, rather than a rapturous 13-minute standing ovation. Sorry Maestro…
Did you know?
Although Nicholas Colasanto (AKA ‘Coach’ in Cheers) is officially credited with having directed Etude in Black, word on the street is that both Falk and Cassavetes took on the lion’s share of directorial duties. And that’s a pretty cool thought…
How I rate them so far
We’ve now got an actual top 10 of episodes form the reviews so far and, true to sentiments expressed above, Etude has fallen into a sort of halfway house. It’s still a goodie, but not quite as good as it perhaps ought to have been. Read any of my past reviews by clicking on the links below.
- Suitable for Framing
- Murder by the Book
- Death Lends a Hand
- Lady in Waiting
- Prescription: Murder
- Etude in Black
- Blueprint for Murder
- Ransom for a Dead Man
- Dead Weight
- Short Fuse
Am I being fair? Leave a comment below and if you treasure Etude above all others, do vote for it here in the favourite episode poll!
I’ll be reviewing the under-the-radar Greenhouse Jungle in the coming weeks, so check back in soon. And thanks, as ever, for reading. You’re da greatest…
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You can read my thoughts on Etude in Black‘s top 5 scenes right here
The evidence is not only the carnation. Of course, the carnation evidence at the end is not conclusive, and Benedict can talk his way out of it–as he did. It is the wife who actually condemns him after she realizes that he cheated on her and killed his mistress. She clearly says that she could have defended him on everything but murder. And this is exactly why Columbo brought them together for the viewing after he aroused her doubts earlier about her husband’s guilt. It’s a masterfully played move, and I think it is where the evidence is. The carnation is not for the future court trial; it is meant to convince the wife (whom Columbo seems to understand quite well) of her husband’s guilt.
We like to think of Columbo catching the killers, dispensing justice to the villain with long and well-deserved jail time. But the reality of our universe is, the baddies will lawyer up and introduce reasonable doubt into their defense, and that can be a bit deflating. We look at each Gotcha and apply logic to it, and logic tells us that many of these cases (like Benedict’s carnation) would have trouble standing up in court.
But we’re not in our universe, we’re in the Columboverse. Levinson and Link were not applying strict reality standards in Columbo’s world. As writer Dana Schwartz explains, “[One] pleasure of Columbo…is in briefly inhabiting a world where everyone agrees on a clear set of rules. When the murderers are outsmarted, they politely turn themselves in…There is an elegance in their defeat, an acknowledgment of a game well played, and an understanding that there’s no point any longer in making a fuss.”
When the Gotcha happens, we see the reaction of the killer, and in that precise moment, we know that Columbo has won their mental competition. It may or may not be a totally logical, iron-clad legal victory (it certainly is doubly powerful if it is) but it is the emotional victory in the Columboverse that really counts.
Occasionally, the killer initially resists giving us this satisfaction. In those cases, it falls to someone close to the murderer to provide the viewer with emotional closure. When killers like Alex Benedict, Harold Van Wick and Grace Wheeler fail to cop to their crimes, it’s the reactions of Janice Benedict, Elizabeth Van Wick and Ned Diamond that tell us that Columbo has won. With those rare exceptions, the Gotchas of the Columboverse only need to convince three people – Columbo, the murderer, and the viewer. The additional 12 in the jury box don’t matter.
Perfectly reasoned — I couldn’t agree more!
Let’s also remember that what makes a mystery solution dramatically satisfying is not its legal force and effect. Finding legal proof is usually fairly undramatic. In “Sex and the Married Detective,” Columbo traces a coat’s price tag back to the store where the coat was purchased, and thus discovered what other, highly incriminatory items of clothing were purchased at the same time. Very good police work, yielding solid legal proof. But a dramatic snooze.
What makes a mystery solution satisfying is its unforeseeable inevitability. That’s a hard combination. But it’s something that leaves you with that wonderful “Of course!—but why didn’t I see it coming?” reaction. Because we didn’t foresee the trickery Columbo used to provoke a guilty response. Or because the solution involved some lateral thinking. Why a fountain doesn’t run. Why a clock didn’t chime. Something that seems tangential to the viewer until the last moments.
My focus is less on the criminal’s capitulation — which can be added to help gloss over a logically flawed solution (like how Milo Janus’ overly helpful concession that, okay, so Gene Stafford didn’t tie his own shoes, made Columbo’s job far easier than it should have been) or no solution at all (Exhibit A: “Murder With Too Many Notes”) — than on the cleverness of the final clue. If it’s clever, then I don’t dwell on how foolproof it is, whether it really proves the murder or some lesser fact, etc. I want a clever killer outfoxed by an even cleverer Columbo.
Yes, and I would only add that there doesn’t even need to be a verbal capitulation of “You got me” for our satisfaction. In fact, a poorly-delivered confession (like Shatner’s Lucerne) can even detract from the Gotcha. Paul Hanlon doesn’t say a word, but its Robert Culp’s gobsmacked reaction to being clocked by Columbo that sealed the deal for me as a 1972 teenage Columbo-viewer, and drove home the impact of the clever clue.
My biggest gripe was that Janice told Columbo that “Quasi una fantasia” is Latin, when it is a well known fact that the language of music is Italian. It bugged me quite a bit that a maestro’s wife would not know this.
Of course, the carnation evidence at the end is not conclusive, and Benedict can talk his way out of it–which he did. It is the wife who actually condemns him after she realizes that he cheated on her and killed his mistress. She clearly says that she could have defended him on everything but murder. And this is exactly why Columbo brought them together for the viewing after he has already aroused her doubts earlier about her husband’s guilt. I think it’s masterfully played move by Columbo.
Flower, flower, who’s got the flower?
This is quite a diverting two hours, even though it’s no
classic episode in terms of a smart killer plotting murder,
only to be undone by the Columbo’s genius deductions
and an unforeseen Gotcha! at the end. That would have
to wait for Requiem for a Falling Star later in the same
season, the gold standard by which all Columbo episodes
should be judged by.
Given that Columbo is gifted with a dropped carnation and
the identity of the killer from the getgo, the viewer can now
sit back and relax, knowing that at least once they are par
with the detective. And follow Columbo as he routinely picks
apart the rest of Benedict’s alibi, bit by bit.
It also gives us a chance to see Cassavetes as a suave
villain, in the rarefied world of LA classical music circa the 70’s.
Columbo seems to drool over every aspect of his lifestyle.
And the viewer once again gets to see the high and mighty
fall yet again. Most of the humour worked for me, including
the neighbourhood kid who dresses down Columbo at every
turn. With juicy tidbits on famous composers thrown in, what’s
not to like?
Etude in Black is an enjoyable, stylish outing for the Lieutenant.
Rating: 8/10.
Marking Breakdown:
Entertainment: 5/5
Clues Leading Columbo To Killer: 2.5/2.5
Final Gotcha: 0.5/2.5 (no surprise, counting
only as an extra clue. Alas, Chopin didn’t
survive, and couldn’t tell us the killer. Aw.)
I love this episode but the detail that doesn’t make sense to me is that- we don’t know how long they have been lovers but unless he wore gloves every time he met her his fingerprints would be somewhere in apartment, on a bottle of sauce, an ashtray etc. Even if not his fingerprints he may have given her a card or she may have written a diary mentioning him.
That’s a pretty good point. Like in many episodes, we are led to believe that there are about 1000 people in all of Los Angeles, and almost all of them are half blind. It’s one thing for Benedict to keep his relationship secret but what woman who is clearly smitten would keep her relationship secret to *everyone*? No journals, diaries, best friends, sisters, therapists, hair stylists, father confessors…no one? (Okay, maybe not a priest, but still) Still, very fun episode.
I think there are a lot of holes in his plan besides. He’s just
not a very good murderer.
For one, a dead body would not breath in any of the natural
gas. There wouldn’t be any in her bloodstream, which would
tell the police that the gas was turned on after she died.
And that somebody had killed her with the blow.
Benedict’s car in the garage for no reason just made it look like
an alibi. They might’ve not checked the mileage, if not for that.
Finally as Columbo thought, a woman that beautiful and successful
just had to have a man in her life.That he didn’t show himself, told
Columbo there was a good chance he was the murderer. But
keeping his identity hidden would not be possible in the long run.
She wasn’t supposed to be dead with the single blow to the head though…he simply knocked her unconscious with that.
Etude In Black is one of my favorite episodes. I think the build up of tension, from the time Benedict commits the murder to the time Benedict is “captured” (Cassavetes’s facial expression is that of a trapped animal as he whispers his confession to Danner), is superior to that of other episodes. And this episode shows a uniquely chilling murder scene; while the conductor is murdering Jennifer, her pet bird shrieks with a kind of mocking laughter. I also like the more complex dynamics that take place between the characters.
Also wanted to add, the development of the characters and the psychological interplay between the characters in this episode is really superb. I don’t think this is produced in any of the other episodes. Janice, as the long suffering wife, has marital turmoil, and an inner turmoil as well. It’s also apparent she has an emotional dependency on her controlling and domineering mother, which certainly relates back to her relationship with Alex. She also struggles with Lt. Columbo. On the surface, Alex appears one dimensional; yet, he internally houses lots of contradictions….love, lust, barbarity, charm, ego, insecurity, etc. In the final scene, Columbo is the unwelcome force that severs the relationships. The look of devastation and regret on Janice’s face disguises an inner strength when she refuses to lie for Alex. And Alex displays a certain regard for Columbo, while he begs for acknowledgement and respect from his staff. The characters are so fleshed out. I really think this episode is a great one.
I love John Cassavetes but I absolutely hate the Maestro! Besides brutally murdering his mistress he also killed poor Chopin, her pet bird. His desperate cries for help still haunt me all these years later!
Me too! I kept hoping that the draped cage when the Maestro
returned to get the flower was Columbo theatrics. That at the
end, he would unveil the cage again, to reveal that the bird
had survived. And had remembered an important scrap of
conversation that implicated the Maestro, and was repeating it.
Cockatiels may not talk or repeat human dialogue, but parrots
and myna birds do.
At least we got to see Columbo truly upset about a poor animal also getting killed. And what about Audrey, the little girl that helped him indirectly solve the murder? I love Columbophile’s awesome observation:
“The good cop/bad cop spin-off series ‘Audrey and the Lieutenant’ never took off”
What are his words to his wife at the end? Other than I love you.
He says “just for the record I love you” or something like that…
My first comment, and I am posting here as having now finally collected all Columbo episodes on DVD, I am watching them in order rather than randomly. I’m now on Season 2 (one a day and then will restart again no doubt!) It is wonderful to see Falk grow into the character and season 2 is probably the strongest.
Welcome to the blog, Tanner. I, too, have been going through the series in order — progressing through the 70s and 90s stints concurrently — and am currently in Season 6 of 70s. While I agree S2 was very solid, I suspect you will find S3 or S4 even more enjoyable.
Do let us know when that time comes. 🙂
did you notice that Sgt. Meyer is played by two different actors? Henry Beckman with a long face and large long nose is replaced by a taller guy with a round face, bushy eyebrows and a weird speaking voice.
I just watched this again after a looong ‘Columbo holiday’ – nothing personal, just trying to come at them from a fresh point of view. I was amazed at how clumsy this ‘perfect murder’ was – taking your car to a garage as an alibi so you can use it surreptitiously? Benedict would have looked a real berk if the distributor and carburettor had been in pieces on Mike’s workbench.
On the subject of Mike (a character I love thanks to Don Knight’s Manchester, UK, accent!) – the sign at the entrance to his workshop announces “Mike Goodman’s Classic Cars”, but the character is credited as ‘Mike Alexander’. And isn’t that Michael Lally playing his grease monkey?
Love this blog! Thanks to the lovely pandemic, trapped looking for new entertainment, my wife and I became full fledged Columbo fans!
One thing that I must ask and forgive me if it was mentioned was regarding the credits of Etude. Michael Pataki is mentioned as playing Sam, but was he actually in the episode? I can remember Pat Morita, nk problem. But is Pataki even onscreen?
I’ve noticed a lot of people have issues with how spurious some confessions seem to be—the evidence isn’t that strong, Columbo doesn’t have a solid case, and yet they ‘fess up when they probably could have stuck it out through a trial. But this has always made perfect sense to me, because it is the perfect illustration of what, to me, is Columbo’s overarching theme: class.
The murders in Columbo are always inherently arrogant acts; they’re committed by people who have been given, by their high status, a sense of untouchability, the feeling that their “perfect crimes” are as safe from scrutiny as every other part of their lives are. But they are exposed as the craven, greedy, bumbling, common killers they are by the persistent and impertinent invasion of the working-class stiff, just doing his job, into their world.
It’s the upsetting and frustrating of the murderer, the gradual and comprehensive destruction of their sense of superiority, that leads to confessions—not anything so mundane as evidence!
They think they can get away with it, not just because they’re better than Columbo, but because they’re better than what he represents: the force of law, the rules of the game, rules Columbo’s type must obey, but that they have transcended thanks to their status. Columbo shows them that this isn’t true, and that’s why they give in.
Hence Benedict’s saluting Columbo: condescending even in defeat.
Then they see the O. J. Simpson trial and think to themselves, damn!
I really like this episode. That being said the Maestro tried way too hard with this murder. If he had skipped the staging and clues of suicide and just made it look like a random rape/assault he would have gotten away with it.
I really liked the episode because of remembering the pal-ing around of Cassavetes, Falk, and Gazzara (most conspicuously and maybe infamously on the Cavett show). BUT the conducting…I was continuously being interrupted by my own laughter at Benedict’s conducting. How could a musician keep a straight face? Still, always enjoyable is Columbo (except for the episode with the awesome Anthony Andrews which was pretty ridiculous).
Conducting the orchestra during concerts is probably the
least of the Musical Director’s tasks. A well rehearsed
orchestra doesn’t need great conducting. Some big
name musical directors of the past have been pretty poor
baton handlers.
Besides, how good should he be minutes after he cracked
a woman’s skull with a similar movement?
Every down-stroke must remind him of his victim. It’s very likely
that would throw his timing off. It might even be incriminating.
I’m pretty sure this has been mentioned before, but wasn’t the leaving of the carnation behind at the crime scene one of the easiest clues that Columbo eventually stumbled across? It’s like we knew right there that would be the criminal’s undoing.
One of the biggest blunders by any murderer on Columbo?
Dropping the flower was an accident. But returning to pick it up was a
colossal blunder.
Without a when, or how the flower got there, it’s not evidence, just a
dropped flower. The Maestro might’ve just forgotten to put one on for
the concert. The field of murder suspects would’ve stayed wide open.
Still, the uniqueness of the variety probably would’ve led Columbo to
the his door. Possibly that’s what was on his mind when he returned
to the scene of the crime.
Again, true, a blunder. But not one that couldn’t be fixed.
For instance, the Maestro could have told Columbo.he hadn’t
worn one, because it was planned that the pianist would pin it
on his lapel in front of the audience at the concert. She had
dropped by his house to pick it up during the week before.
As he probably panicked after seeing his missing flower, and
couldn’t think of this simple solution at the time.
This episode is one of my favourite ones and i never ever get tired of watching it and listening to it too, not only for the great music of Dick DeBenedictis but also for its classical music pieces. May I ask you all what is the classical music played at the ballet class? and the jazz piece before lover man? and what orchestra plays the 6th symphony? and the piece at the classical music rehearsal? i know and love all those pieces but i m ashamed to say i am not good in memorizing its composers and names. The added scenes, do you know exactly which ones are? Is there any way to watch the episode without them or watch the added scenes separately? The excellent performance of John Cassavetes and his looks and his charisma are impressive, but every single actor and performance is great and very enjoyable. I found nothing about the little girl actress, does anyone know anything about her apart from her name? Needless to say i m a huge fan of Columbo and Peter Falk, especially on this episode.
I love it entirely, including the hilarious voice-over given to that doomed cockatoo. NO sulphur-crested cocky ever sounds like that, lol.
I feel that everyone is underestimating this terrific episode. I liked it so much I very soon watched it a second time. The only other one I’ve done that with is “Murder By the Book.” I think everyone is missing why the riffing about how much Cassavetes’ character paid for the house is so damn good. The subtext of “Columbo” — intentional or not, it’s built into the structure — is CLASS. The houses, the cars — sure, the Lieutenant admires them but on his salary? I also think that Cassavetes is fantastic in his personification of a West Coast Leonard Bernstein. The scene in the jazz club — so memorable. It’s just all good.
Also: Has anyone seen Preston Sturges’ original movie of “Unfaithfully Yours,” starring Rex Harrison as a murderous orchestra conductor? I am convinced that this grand comedy inspired this episode, and I can’t recommend it enough.
It’s the class element of Columbo which I think makes all these rather spurious confessions so perfect too. They’re confessing not because the evidence is damning, but because the game is up. They’ve been caught—by that scruffy little working-class bum.
The murders in Columbo are always inherently arrogant acts; they’re committed by people who have been given, by their high status, a sense of untouchability, the feeling that their “perfect crimes” are as safe from scrutiny as every other part of their lives are. But they are exposed as the craven, greedy, bumbling, common killers they are by the persistent and impertinent invasion of the working-class stiff, just doing his job, into their world.
It’s the upsetting and frustrating of the murderer, the gradual and comprehensive destruction of their sense of superiority, that leads to confessions—not anything so mundane as evidence!
I have nothing to add to the review and generally agree with the idea that the convincing piece of evidence, the flower, could have been better and more interestingly handled.
For whatever reason, when seeing this episode for the first time in years, I immediately remembered a throwaway line towards the end, before the showing of the concert. Columbo asks the attendees, “Would you like something to drink? Some coffee, something cold?” I’m not sure why it sticks in my head… 🙂
I have to admit that Columbo annoys me in this episode–a sad hint of things to come. What was the point of that whole business with Benedict about his beautiful car, his beautiful house, and especially what he paid for the house, what his taxes were, how much he spent on the furniture, etc.? Surprisingly impolite of Columbo. I had the feeling all that was just padding. However, it was interesting to learn that he made $11,000 a year at the time. And it seems like he’s a fan of so many of the famous murderers. Somehow I have trouble picturing Columbo and his wife being a huge fan of a classical orchestra conductor and having all his albums, but I could be wrong. Also, unlike Columbophile, I found the “Chopsticks” scene even more excruciating than “Volare” in Troubled Waters. However, I did love seeing Dog’s introduction. And a vet who loves watching classical concerts in his clinic was a nice touch. And the dialogue about naming him! It reminded me of the last dog my family and I had when I was much younger. My parents, my brother, and I could never agree on a name for her, so she ended up being “Dawg” her whole life, the poor thing! And I also hated Benedict for letting the poor cockatoo die from the gas!
After we learned that Columbo enjoys classical music in the previous case “Blueprint for Murder”, it is no longer a wonder that he is also a Benedict fan, although he or his wife is always said to be a huge fan of the killer that he is about to catch – if that killer is a celebrity.
The silly investigation scene in Benedict’s house really only had the intention to prolong the episode. Originally it wasn’t part of the script and it was shot after John Cassavetes already thought “We’re done, I can go now and buy me a haircut from my appearance fee.” In the 70-minutes-syndicated-version the scene is missing completely, which speeds up the pace in a refreshing way.
I haven’t seen “Blueprint for Murder” in ages and it doesn’t appear that I will soon, given MeTV’s odd scheduling, so I hadn’t remembered that bit of info about the Columbos.
The talk about money, taxes and income is padding but it does, I think, serve a purpose. Columbo is hinting about motive here. Benedict clearly couldn’t afford his lifestyle on his income so he’s reliant on his wife’s money. The victim would’ve revealed Benedict’s affair, so he could have lost the house, the car and everything else.
That combined with Myrna Loy stating outright that anyone, including (or especially) Benedict, can be axed is confirmation of motive. Benedict is reliant on his wife and mother-in-law for both his career and his luxurious lifestyle, he could maybe tolerate losing his luxuries but he would never tolerate losing his job.
he average conductor salary over the top 64 orchestras
in the U.S. hit $600,000 in 2018, according to the
New York Times. At a major orchestra like LA’s, it would be much
higher.
Orchestra Music Directors are prestigious appointments. Only the
most talented and reputable need apply. Benedict comes off as
someone who has established a career from his own merits. He could
go to another orchestra if he wanted to.
I think you are right. Columbo is just trying to size up if he is
living within his own earnings. Which likely he is. But I think
the scandal of an extra marital affair would destroy Benedict’s
reputation and career. And that’s what he is worried about, and
what causes him to commit murder.
As a musician and a Columbo fan, as much as I love the series, I do have some complaints about “Etude In Black,” although I like it overall. My main 2 niggles are John Cassavetes’ atrocious alleged “conducting” and the funereal tempo at which the orchestra takes the last movement of Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.” Cassavetes also takes his car to his mechanic and describes the noises the engine is making in orchestral terms, i.e. “the woodwinds are flat”.. no musician would talk like that about a car, especially when they’re describing a problem to somebody whose training is mechanical, not musical..this last complaint is probably a bit too touchy, but whenever I see an actor trying to pantomime playing an instrument, it drives me nuts..Ed Begley, Junior is a fine actor, but his fake trumpet playing left a lot to be desired in the looks-like-he’s-really-doing-it department..Since NBC obviously had a professional player record Begley’s trumpet parts, couldn’t they have had the trumpet player work with the actor to make him look a bit more authentic?
Thanks for the classic Looney Tunes clip, always a treat to watch.
Etude is OK, probably won’t crack my top 30. Highlight of the episode for me was the double take by Blythe Danner when she hears her husband rip off the phone number of hot dead girl. In an instant, her expression conveys an agonizing hurt that cuts right to the viewer’s empathy. We know this is not going to end well for anyone.
CP makes an astute point about the different types of episode padding, additional scenes vs stretched scenes. I agree that the former is a more tolerable approach, provided the superfluous scene is more like the foyer autograph in Etude than the tuba fountains in Sex/Married.
Speaking of tuba, the Chopsticks scene is good for sure, but I couldn’t help think that the writers of the tuba scene were hoping to recapture the same charm by way of Columbo playing an instrument. Knowing that their attempt failed so miserably kind of hurt my appreciation for musical Columbo here. Feels too cute by half.
BTW CP, nice drop in of ‘Bronx cheer.’ I’m a little surprised that American idiom made its way to the U.K.
This seems to be the only episode that reveals the punchline at the very beginning of the show. Not sure i like this though. I’d rather be surprised at the end like all the other episodes. Still is a great episode though.
I agree. There has been only one Columbo case to which I could foresee the final clue during my first watching. I remember talking to myself back then after Columbo learned that the crucial concert was taped. I begged the author: “Please don’t let the carnation be the only gimmick coming up next!”, but Steven Bochco didn’t hear me; his script was already filmed. For that, the episode has never fully grown on me.
Why would someone who committed suicide by sticking their head in an oven have a smashed head?
The murder set-up was supposed to suggest she turned the gas oven on, then sat on a stool beside it until she passed out, then smashed her head on the oven door when falling off the stool. Not very convincing, I know…
At the very least,there is a difference between hitting
your head on an object on your way down after passing out,
and being knocked out by a blow to the head with a blunt
instrument. Probably a coroner could tell the difference.
The corners in Columbo operate with some amount of professional amnesia. Yes, I think a real coroner would be able to tell the difference between a blow from an ashtray from a fall to an oven door. For one thing, the two objects would have a different shape not to mention the likelihood that a person fainting from gas would probably fall on her face, as opposed to the top of her head where Benedict presumably hit her. I think it’s also a little weird that Welles would sit on a stool in front of her open oven, rather than stick her head inside to quicken her suicide.
In any case, Coroners are trained to notice things like that: bruise patterns, bite marks, bullet trajectories, gunpowder residue, clumps of hair missing, lung and stomach contents, blood under the nails…all kinds of things.
But when I say that Columbo coroners have amnesia, I mean that often they miss obvious things for the sake of plot.
(All shows seem to do this, ever watch Star Trek? “The transporters are down!” Why not use the transporters on the many shuttlecraft on board? Why does no one think of this?)
In Double Exposure they never check any of the weapons (or people held for questioning) for gunshot residue.
Another example is Any Old Port In the Storm where the deceased is declared dead by asphyxiation: that he ran out of air while scuba diving after being bumped on the head…except that he had been tied up and inside a cellar over 100 degrees for several days…the corpse would have been a sloppy mess that would had to have been scooped up and poured into the wetsuit in which he was found.
In A Friend in Deed the coroner seems to think it’s a strange request of Columbo to check the lungs of the deceased for either chlorine or soap.
And then there are cases where the coroner (or someone) knows things they cannot possibly know at that point in time. For example Murder Under Glass. Within hours of the victim’s death, it’s determined that not only was the victim murdered, but poisoned! Not only did they order an autopsy, but a toxicology report too, and it came back within hours! That is some grade-A policing right there. (That episode drives me crazy in that Columbo is chowing down like he’s been starving merely because the chef assured him that the poison couldn’t have come from his kitchen…as if anyone would take his word for it after a man had literally just died in the restaurant.)
Anyway, it’s just one of those quirky TV things that you have to turn your brain off in order to accept the premise. But hey, it’s fun to nitpick.
In the case of “A Friend in Deed,” based on the staging, and the fact that the victim was the commissioner’s wife, I could see Halperin fast-tracking it as open and shut. Also, by questioning the water in Halperin’s wife’s lungs, Columbo is essentially calling into question his superior’s statement that she drowned in the pool, which would have caught an ME by surprise. By asking the ME to check the water in her lungs, Columbo’s basically saying, “I think Halperin’s story is BS.”
“Port” bothers me too. I’d have preferred that Carsini either finished him off with one blow, or finished him off with two blows, rather than tying him unconscious in the cellar.
The guy is in a room filled with glass. Ric’s an arsehole, but he’s also resourceful. He COULD have found a way to break one of the wine bottles and used the broken glass to cut the ropes. The whole thing just seems incredibly risky, and if he gets the ropes off, as demonstrated, he’s not locked in.
But the other thing that bothers me is that even with the ventilation off, there’s a lot of air in that room to go through before Ric suffocates. Carsini is such an engaging and pitiable murderer that it’s surprising to me that his method ends up not being that far removed from Abigail Mitchell locking up Edmund in the safe to suffocate. Tied up, no access to a bathroom, it’s a pretty awful way for him to die.
The method also leaves plenty of room for ligature marks to be found on Ric’s body, which for some reason are completely absent when they well should have been there. Ric’s body is discovered by Carsini amidst a bunch of knocked over wine bottles, so he obviously regained consciousness and tried to free himself. There should have been no question that this was a murder from the very beginning, yet he’s just perfectly preserved as he was when Carsini left.
There’s one other thing that gets me. Carsini drives Ric’s car to the location with the top down, covering the body with a blanket. Why? Anyone else in that situation would have put the top up to further conceal the body. What if the wind blows the blanket up while Carsini is next to a stopped car at the light? That element bothers me in an otherwise great episode. It seems placed there solely to give Columbo another thread to chew on and point him to the body being placed their after Ric died.
I so agree. It made no sense and falling off a stool doesn’t do it for me either
I think he probably meant to just knock her out, and let
the gas kill her. But what we can see of the blow, looks
lethal enough to me. A heavy metal ashtray makes
a classic blunt instrument.
That would be a problem of course. There wouldn’t be
any gas in her system, so she wouldn’t have been alive
to pass out from it.
You’re right, ,the conducting was horrible — not only was it stiff, but in the daytime rehearsal scene at the Hollywood Bowl, it was totally out of character for the music. Conducting isn’t just about keeping time and giving cues to the orchestra, it’s about reflecting how you want them to interpret the music (flowing, bombastic, gentle, forceful, etc.) and what should be emphasized. But what actually bothered me almost as much is that the music you hear in the jazz club uses an electric bass rather than the upright bass being “played” by the actor.
I was surprised that more wasn’t made of the fact that the car was up on the hoist in the garage at the end of the day but sitting outside in the morning. None of the mechanics would’ve said “Hey Al, did you move that conductor’s car outside? I left it up on the hoist when I left last night”?
Good point about the hoist. I consider the phony suicide note to be far stronger evidence than the carnation. After all, he could have said the carnation was in his pocket, he forgot it at the concert, dropped it when he moved his coat at Welle’s apartment (when there with the cops) and put it on. Plausible? Not really, but it could give reasonable doubt to a jury. But second to the suicide note is the car.
-Nothing was wrong with it
-The mileage was exactly the distance to Welle’s home and back
-As you correctly mention the car wouldn’t have been on the lift
What else could explain it?
Yep, and they could’ve made more hay of the suicide note too. They got the misalignment part, but they could’ve looked at the ribbon… they could’ve pressed the “messy handwriting so typed everything” issue.
I guess it’s silly to over-analyze a show from the Nixon Administration era (and yet here we are!) but I always sort of assumed that just because Columbo prefers a certain line of evidence, there is no reason to think that’s the *only* evidence being collected. After all, surely once they suspected Benedict, they would have executed a search warrant and found the real typewriter used to create the note.
Cassavetes conducting is terrible, but I think the review is a little tough on Etude. Audrey is supposed to be an annoying teenager. Teenagers of that era, I was one, were very annoying and bossy and know it all. My wife and I watch a Columbo every Saturday night, and when Etude comes up in the rotation, I am thrilled it’s arrived. The one thing that is a complaint for me about the episode is that the garage holds all those expensive cars yet doesn’t have a locked gate to secure the property.
And it appears to be in a seedy part of town….
Thanks for this beautiful reviews! I’m a big fan of Columbo, and I love the show… and with that out of the way, I will say what’s my main “problem” with the series, which is visible also in Etude in Black – the “bad guy” sooner or later acts “stupid”, meaning falling into trap of giving his/her opinion about the crime in order to clean themselves. In this episode, Benedict tries to convince Columbo that suicide should not surprise him, even though he’s not on his ropes yet, meaning we’re very early in the episode, and not a glimpse of evidence was brought up. It’s foolish really, as we see these killers telling to Columbo (policeman with a years of experience) how the murder could have taken place in their theory, just because that’s how they’d like Columbo to acknowledge it. It’s not a biggie, and doesn’t take away the enjoyment, though it makes those baddies look like 12 years old.
Comments about scenes added in later to fill out the episode: in the restaurant scene Myrna Loy is wearing the same outfit at both the restaurant, and later in the scene where the Board of Directors is meeting regarding the upcoming scandal. A lot of time had passed, and it probably wasn’t the same day.
I love Myrna Loy, but I found her performance in this episode to be erratic. She was marvelous in her final scene, evoking some classic Nora Charles impishness as she dealt with Paul Rifkin. But in the earlier scene in the restaurant, she veers from community playhouse level over-emoting to a marked stiltedness, as if she were reading her lines for the first time off of cue cards. I’m going to assume that was one of the scenes shot after the fact in order to pad the episode, and so Loy was probably rushed into it without much time at all to prepare or rehearse.
The reason why he doesn’t try to talk his way out of his guilt regarding the flower is really quite simple. Watch the episode again. At this precise moment, he knows that his WIFE KOWS, that he committed the murder. It’s obvious to him, that at that moment, he knows his wife HAS LOST ALL FAITH IN HIM. You can clearly see that he is now a broken man and he doesn’t have the will to fight. The person he loved, (and he clearly did, as he killed the pianist for her, knows he’s a killer and doesn’t believe him anymore. His fight is gone. He has lost everything. For me that gives the ending a real piece of melancholy sadness.
Great observation. This notion is further supported by Columbo clearly making it a point to include her in the reveal. And possibly explains his less than enthusiastic ensuing reaction to finally getting his man.
You’re right about his reaction, but the reason is a little bit different. He didn’t love his wife, he loved his carreer, which depended of his mother in law. That’s why he killed the pianist.
Whoa! He doesn’t love his wife, it’s pure manipulation from beginning to end. Watch the scene again where she asks him why he picked her as she says has no talent. He knows exactly what to say but he doesn’t have a real reason as to why he loves her. Narcissists feed off their victims, he needs her devotion to feel alive and that’s why hooks her in he end with his “sweet words”.
I enjoyed this episode quite I lot. When I worked in Hollywood, I used to drive by the Hollywood Bowl every once in a while, so the setting was familiar, and the casting was great. It was also one of the more cold blooded murders that I can remember, right up there with Death Hits the Jackpot and A Friend In Deed. I mean he even kills Chopin the bird! What an asshole!
But for me, the critical clue isn’t the flower: it’s the “suicide” note, proven to have not been written on Welles’ typewriter. Had they executed a search warrant of Benedict’s home, they would have discovered his typewriter and almost certainly they would have done an analysis to match the unique imperfections of the typebars’ strike surface. That, coupled with the EXACT mileage on Benedict’s car from the garage to the murder scene and back, plus his unusual insistence to have his car serviced when nothing appeared to be wrong with it, would condemn him. After all, his mother in law was all too ready to throw him under the bus, and his wife plainly stated that she would have tolerated anything BUT murder. If she takes the stand, he’s finished.
I believe Alex actually typed the note on Jennifer’s typewriter at an earlier time. This was one of the few ingenious parts of his plan. The reason why it didn’t match later was because the paper could not be reinserted in the exact position it was originally, not because a different typewriter was used.
G4, I agree with you. Columbo even suggests to Alex Benedict that someone with access to Jennifer’s home (i. e. her murderer, whom she knew well and was having an affair with) could have gone into her place at an earlier time to type out the note, then removed it, and reinserted it back into the typewriter when she was murdered). I also agree with STEVE CARNOVALE’s comment above that Alex’s quick confession came because he realized his wife KNEW that he had cheated on him and killed Jennifer. This took all the wind out of his sails and wiped the smugness off of his face.
When he reinserted the paper into Jennifer’s typewriter, it looks like he typed something else, but we never see what it was.
Well, I have a Jag and my mechanic always complains that I complain about nothing. It is true that Jag’s are sensible but the engine really purrs, and sometimes only the owner can hear an insignifcantly erratic idling…
What does your mechanic fix when they cannot detect anything out of the ordinary?
I just found this site after deciding to spend a jet-lagged weekend binging on Columbo. The writing on the blog is witty and well done, congrats. I was never a huge fan and have not seen many of these, or have forgotten them….but these days I will gladly immerse myself in old TV shows and movies rather than watch the news. Falk is up to the challenge and I’m interested. I am up to season 2 epi 2. I wish someone had given Cassavetes a few lessons in conducting. The scene where he puffs on a cigarette with one hand while lazily waving his baton with the other – embarrassing. I am enjoying the comments and knowledge of those who know far more about this show than I ever will, and the host of the site. Loved the fashion comments. Thanks for all this. It’s sort of like going to a good party where everyone is sitting around a table talking. Remember when we did that, before we had Phones??
Boy, Cassavetes’ conducting style was terrible, wasn’t it? So robotic and graceless! Maybe the guy had no coordination, or maybe it was a joke because you have to think it can’t be that hard to wag a little stick with a bit more finesse!
Cassavetes’ coordination was probably shot due to his life long copious alcohol consumption.
Kinda reminded me of the time Thurston Howell III was auditioning to conduct the “Gilligan’s Island Symphony.”
Well,we got there in the end.Eventually.The missing flower was the give away and it took a long time to wrap it up.
Upon finding the flower,assuming that Columbo had’nt seen it,Alex would have put it in his pocket rather than pin it on himself knowing the concert was televised with him not wearing it.
Mechanics usually record the mileage on completion of work,not before.The car could have been drained of fuel and oil for all he knew.Anyone could have seen him drive away.
The dog scenes are a bore.
I have never been a big fan of etude in black , I find it a bit boring at times also and the clue about the carnation and the car garage dosent quite cut it for me and I cant say theres much humor in it either , In general this is rated very highly but etude in black wouldn’t even make my overall top 30
Alex ultimately relied on his wife to be his alibi. But when she is convinced that he killed her because of the flower discrepancy, she realizes that she can no longer cover up what she feels to be true (ever since she heard Alex blurt out Jenifer’s phone number). The flower certainly does not convict Alex, but like many episodes, it is the preponderance of evidence and lack of alternative explanation by the villain that ultimately dooms him.
“Suppose it was you.”
One of the most classic Columbo lines of all-time.
what? I could not hear what you said. and he says it again (:
A terrific episode. My interpretation is that Columbo knows right from the start that Alex murdered her because he saw the carnation on the floor well before Alex showed up and when Alex picked it up claiming it was his and that he had “just dropped it”, it proved his guilt. The rest of the episode is Columbo filling in the loose ends (the car for example) that would satisfy the jury.
Also, we need not assume that all of Columbo’s evidence is presented in the story. It would not be of interest for example, for the audience to watch Columbo interviewing bystanders who could place Alex’s car at the scene of the crime or would testify that they someone dressed like Alex near the apartment. We know all that already. We’re interested in the cat-and-mouse game, in the interaction between Columbo and murderer as he slowly draws the net. This argument would also go for many other Columbo episodes.
Yes, definitely one of the better ones and more mileage for the old E-Type. Quality of acting direction and story varies wildly in the series.
Yup, glad this E-type didn’t explode or get pushed down a hill.
You say
> On top of that there’s no clear reason why Benedict visited the crime scene on the night of the murder.
Benedict had no legit reason to convey to the police, aside from citing concern for a member of his orchestra, but he had a *very* clear reason to show up, which was to pick up his lapel flower. He realized it was missing during his performance, so he clearly went to the house to try to find it.
He’s a schemer, but no1 said he’s the sharpest tool in the shed. Otherwise he wouldn’t have cheated on his wife 🙂
I think the boutonniere was traced back to him specifically because the wife grew them for him.
The Pat Marito scene made me cringe. Why did he have to seem so stereotyped?
Sometimes the villains in TV mysteries (including, unfortunately, our beloved Columbo) do seemingly unnecessary things that become distractions to my enjoyment of the program. The Maestro does three things before he murders Jenifer that make absolutely no sense to me.
(1) Why did he put on his tuxedo and boutonniere before he went to murder her? He looked like he was in good shape, but still he would have sweated enough during his jog to the garage to possibly ruin the crispness of his tuxedo and crushed the boutonniere, especially since he had an overcoat on. Also, he risked getting the legs of the tux and his shoes dirty crawling though the bathroom window at the garage. Yeah, I know the boutonniere was Columbo’s first clue, but still…
(2) Speaking of the garage, he took a big assumption that his car would be drivable. It was up on the lift, after all.
(3) And why would he want to use his own flashy car to drive to the scene? It possibly could have been seen by any number of witnesses from the point where he drove away from the garage, to Jenifer’s house (where it could have been identified as being seen near the place of the crime), and back to the garage. Also, he was chancing a breaking and entering charge by doing so. Seems he could have arranged to have another car closer to the Bowl to avoid all this.
These points keep Etude in Back from being the consistently excellent episode it could have been.
I felt that the fact that the Maestro didn’t lose the flower with that Sprint to the garage was, but it dropped off at Jennifer’s place was pretty funny.
There is also Columbo oddly referring to “Miss Welles apartment,” when it’s quite clear she’s living in a rather ritzy, detached house.
This is a long episode with a very far-fetched crime, which still holds up well thanks to excellent acting and directing, and good use of some fine music.
The reason why the Maestro visited Welles’ house was he noticed his carnation was gone as he was conducting. He thought he’d go back to retrieve it and none would be the wiser.
I agree the evidence is thin and I don’t know why he wouldn’t just throw the flower away instead of putting it back on.
And completely agree Audrey is super annoying. If there’s any scene needs to be cut to make it time, I’d vote for hers.
Audrey grated on my nerves. Disrespectful little girl. 🤦
We even get that extended scene of Audrey’s dance class. Ugh!
Just one more thing…
Seeing as the villain had a torrid affair with his victim, I’d assume her home would be COVERED in his fingerprints. The gloves he wore when performing the dirty deed seem a little silly, in that respect.
He needed the gloves to type the suicide note if for nothing else.
A lot of other various columbo blogs and sites rate Etude in black very highly , while it is a classic, it is slightly overrated as columbophile himself will tell you i, it is not in my top 10
Here is how I rate season 2
1) A stitch in crime
2) Double shock
3) Etude in black
4)The most crucial game
5) The most dangerous Match
6) The greenhouse jungle
7) Requiem for a falling star
8) Dagger of the Mind
Just watched Etude In Black and the fact that it barely cracks my top 20 is a testament as to how great a series this really was. I would almost have the same ranking as yours for season 2, especially A Stitch In Crime which would rank as #4 out of all episodes. Nimoy was a fine pairing with the great Peter Falk.
I’ve always enjoyed this episode. John Cassavetes left us way too early (1989 at age 59 from cirrhosis of the liver). He and Falk were best buds in real life, and along with Cassavetes’ wife, Gena Rowlands, and buddy Ben Gazarra, they worked on many projects together. Rowlands also played wheelchair bound Elizabeth Van Wick on the Columbo episode “Playback” several years later. Blythe Danner played Alex Benedict’s wife on this one, though I wonder how Rowlands in the role would have turned out. Several observations:
1) Why didn’t Alex just break it off with Jennifer Welles, instead of killing her? Also, breaking into the shop to retrieve his car to drive to murder Welles, then returning seemed too contrived.
2) Anjanette Comer, who played Welles was a certified hottie back then.
3) Great shots of the Hollywood Bowl. I never saw a show there, but did get to tour it in the daytime years ago. It’s a fantastic venue, nestled in the hills.
4) Seeing Alex having Welles’ phone number (555-7921) memorized sent a red flag to Mrs. Benedict. He also flew off the handle a little bit much when he couldn’t reach her before the concert.
5) I don’t mind the extra length of this one, even the padded scenes alluded to by Columbophile. I like knowing how much Alex paid for his mansion back then (only $750k….you can’t buy a 1 bedroom shack for that now in Cali). The only thing about Cassavetes is that I’ve always thought he was a Greek ham in front of the camera, and was better suited behind it. Though he did well, so many actors could have pulled this role off better than Cassavetes, as well as his Rosemary’s Baby character. It’s probably just me, but he’s one actor who I always noticed was always ‘acting’, and not ‘being’.
6) The only extended episode during the classic years that really dragged on to where I noticed was Last Salute to the Commodore. I have nightmares of Columbo repeatedly yelling “Commodore’s Watch”. Egad….the horror. Rod Serlings “The Twilight Zone” did 3 seasons of half hour shows, then season 4 was a full hour, then the 5th and final season was back to half hour after the ratings slipped during the extended season 4. Another Columbo that dragged was Columbo playing tuba with those kids in the sex therapist episode. Many of the later non classic-era Columbo episodes seemed to drag on incessantly.
7) Columbo’s interaction with young Audrey at her ballet lesson was one of those….. cringeworthy moments that just seems a bit…off and uncomfortable.
8) Alex’s ’69 Jaguar XKE and his ’59 Rolls Royce Silver Cloud II, both sweet rides, as well as the other vehicles at the mechanic shop (located in Van Nuys).
9) The legend Myrna Loy and Pat Morita were great cast additions, and of course, the first appearance of “Dog”. Myrna Loy in “The Best Years of Our Lives” was incredible, as was the whole movie, IMHO. George Gaynes (Punky Brewster and Police Academy) also appeared in the restaurant scene as Everett, some kind of newspaper magnate, and friend of Myrna Loy’s character.
10) The omnipresent Mike Lally. (as the English mechanic’s helper)
11) At the murder scene, there was a Sergeant Meyer who appeared to be in charge until Columbo arrived, but imdb doesn’t mention him in the credits. Does anyone know who this guy was? He had several lines, was smoking a cigar, and had a weird sounding voice, almost as if it was dubbed in later.
12) Blythe Danner was pregnant with Gywneth Paltrow during filming, who was born 10 days after the show aired.
13) The episode was directed by Nick Colasanto, who later appeared as “Coach” on the “Cheers” television comedy series.
More utterly useless observations. Thanks again, Columbophile for such a great site.
Next time you’re out on Youtube, look up “Cassavetes Peter Falk Dick Cavett”. Cavett later revealed it was the worst and most frightening interview in his career. Cassavetes, Falk, and Ben Gazarra were drunk as skunks and stumbled, staggered, yelled, fell down, and really freaked out Cavett. I enjoyed watching it, but I can see why Cavett was frightened, and wanted to pull the plug throughout the interview.
Also, while you’re on youtube, query “Cassavetes: I’m Almost Not Crazy”. It’s a documentary made not long before his death in 1989. His body, skin, and hair look haggard, with the exception of his midrange being bloated, showing signs of extreme Acites, a condition that accompany’s cirrhosis/end stage liver failure. The difference between his appearance on Etude and this is startling. He was such a talented filmmaker, and it’s really sad to see him in this state. There are lot’s of shots with he and his wife and kids. It’s touching, but really sad. The guy lived his independent movie making, and it seems that his reality constantly crossed boundaries with his “craft”.
Another observation that might be mentioned is the fact that only a few months after this episode was filmed, both Falk and Cassavetes went in front of the cameras again to produce the masterpiece film “Mikey and Nicky”, directed by Elaine May and not actually released until 1976. This film is freely available on YouTube.
You are right about Sgt Meyer’s voice being wierd. I think he was dubbed by the cockatoo.
I also note that the whole basis of the murder was: a famous, orchestral conductor having an extra-marital affair?!? Big deal. I’d be surprised if he DIDN’T. If this character, based loosely on Leonard Bernstein, were having a fling with a MAN, (as Maestro B did,in the ’60s with a young, famous,still living concert pianist) it would have made more sense, but would have been too provocative for a 1972 tv audience.
Sgt. Meyer is clearly being played by Nicholas Colasanto, although I can find no sources to back it up. It’s unmistakably our beloved Coach, probably filling in for an actor who didn’t show up.
I think your answer to “why Alex didn’t just break off the affair?” Is that he couldn’t risk her telling it all. Most affair partners can be pretty nasty if the other person just breaks it off when they aren’t ready. She had been pressing him to divorce his wife because she didn’t play the other woman’s part well. There’s apart before he kills her where she tells him so. He knew he couldn’t trust her to just let it go.
She threatened to create a scandal that would ruin his career–as was likely in those times. Nowadays scandals are an everyday matter.
Scandal, yes. But more than gossip and nasty looks: while Benedict makes a good living conducting, it’s made pretty clear that it is his mother in law who actually funds the symphony. In other words, he owes his wealth to her, and by extension his wife. Benedict stands to lose everything: his wife, his employer, and probably most of his fortune.
Her hair was an updo right before the final scene, when they walked into the studio it was in a pony tail.
It’s interesting that Paul Rifkin is also a Jazz musician. It’s unusual given the two musical styles require different skills. A Classical musician will often have trouble with Jazz’s improvisational style while Classical is more rigidly structured. It is possible for a musician to be skilled in both musical genres (see Wynton Marsalis). It’s just rare and unusual.
Keith Jarrett is another example. He was once asked in an interview whether he’d like to do a concert where he would play both jazz and classical music: “No, that’s hilarious,” he said. “It’s because of the circuitry. Your system demands different circuitry for either of those two things.”
Hello does anyone know the title of the beautiful piece of jazz when colombo goes to the jazz club ( not “lover man” but the first piece of music with james olson on the trumpet) thanks a lot for the answer!
According to IMDB, it is “Lover Man.” https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0068398/soundtrack
I’m glad you mentioned it because i’m looking for the same thing.
How did he get his car back into the mechanics garage?
I presume (which is to say I made it up… which is to say fan fiction) that Benedict being familiar with his mechanic, knew where the spare keys, including a gate key, would be kept. I used to live in L.A. and the light industrial zones (where mechanics, small factories and warehouses are) were often pretty dead at night. In the pre-GPS days I got lost in such areas a few times and when I mean dead, I mean DEAD. Block after block seeing not a soul or a single office light or idling semi truck, nothing. Kinda spooky actually.
I would imagine that in the days before security cameras it must have been even easier to do something like Benedict pulled.
That being said, I don’t know of any such area within jogging distance of the Hollywood Bowl. With all that running and long coat, and jacket with tails, Benedict should be covered in sweat!
I presume when he came back in through the washroom window, all the keys were there, and garage door free to
open.