Years before he directed the world’s most terrifying gourmand, Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs, Jonathan Demme was cutting his gastronomic teeth on the second episode of Columbo‘s seventh season – Murder Under Glass.
Starring Louis Jourdan as murderous food critic Paul Gerard, and notable for featuring more aspic per square yard of film than any other television production ever, this is an episode certain to expand waistlines merely through the process of watching.
But is Murder Under Glass a televisual banquet fit for a queen? Or is it more of a mystery meat kebab that you gulp down at 3am and live to regret? Let’s loosen our belts and roll back the clocks to January 30, 1978 to see how well it’s aged…
Dramatis personae
Lieutenant Columbo: Peter Falk
Paul Gerard: Louis Jourdan
Eve Plummer: Shera Danese
Vittorio Rossi: Michael V. Gazzo
Mario Deluca: Antony Alda
Mary Choy: France Nuyen
Max Duvall: Richard Dysart
Kanji Ousu: Mako
Sergeant Burke: Todd Martin
Albert: Larry D. Mann
Written by: Robert Van Scoyk
Directed by: Jonathan Demme
Score by: Jonathan Tunick
Episode synopsis: Columbo Murder Under Glass
Fuming Italian chef Vittorio Rossi has had it up to HERE with the antics of revered culinary critic Paul Gerard, who appears to single-handedly control the destinies of a trio of the city’s top restaurants.
Gerard, you see, is extorting the owners of said eateries. For a mere 25% of their profits (paid to the shadowy Restaurant Developers Association, which Gerard runs with naive accomplice Eve Plummer), he has used his clout to build up their reputations and make the establishments known hotbeds of haute cuisine.
There’s a catch, though. If the proprietors dare to stop paying, Gerard will drag their names through the gutters and pen enough poison about them to ensure no civilised diner will go within a mile of their front doors.
Vittorio is now regretting making such a pact, and over a brief meal with the critic leaves him in no doubt that the tables are about to turn. Indeed, the fuming Italian claims he’ll expose Gerard’s corrupt antics and leave him to ‘starve like a beggar in the streets’. Oof!
Gerard, playing it cool in a way that only a Gallic super-villain can, acts like the wronged party for the benefit of witnesses, but he’s the one that will be dissolving this particular partnership. You see, Gerard has secreted some deadly Japanese blow fish (fugu) poison within the nozzle of a pneumatic bottle opener that Vittorio will use to open a bottle of wine (although we only find that out at the end). Whomsoever drinks from that first glass will swiftly perish in unimaginable pain.
Calling time on the dinner, Gerard makes his exit while a raging Vittorio falls for the trap and opens the wine to enjoy a calming glass. Moments later – in front of the eyes of his hapless young nephew Mario – the restaurateur ceases slamming kitchen drawers, seizes his chest, gasps a bit and slumps dead to the floor. Unable to speak a word of English, poor Mario is forced to ring his own mother in Italy, and she, in turn, alerts the LAPD.
Our mate Columbo is the chief investigator on the scene, and is tucking into a bowl of cioppino when Gerard – having been summoned by the police – reappears at the restaurant. After eating the same meal as the deceased, Gerard is concerned to hear that Vittorio died of suspected poisoning – but not so concerned to have taken himself off to hospital as a precaution before answering the police summons: a fact Columbo will squirrel away for future reference.
With Gerard in tow, Columbo questions Mario and gives the trembling young wimp a torrid time, aggressively accusing him (in Italian) of murdering his own uncle. It’s a most un-Columbo-like approach, leaving the fragile waiter even more of a bundle of nerves.
However, while unable to explain why his uncle was slamming kitchen drawers just prior to his death, Mario does recollect that Vittorio and Gerard were engaged in a furious argument of their own. The critic is able to explain this away easily enough, though. The Restaurant Writers Awards have been held at Vittorio’s for the past three years, but this year they’re switching to a new venue. Gerard claims that Vittorio was livid at this perceived slight.
Columbo’s investigations continue the next day at Chez Duvall, another world-class eatery owned by Vittorio’s mate Max Duvall. There the Lieutenant enquires about Vittorio’s frame of mind the day before and receives some telling insight. According to Duvall, there was nothing to suggest Vittorio was about to become a victim. “On the contrary, he seemed like a man about ready to commit murder himself.”
As luck would have it, Gerard is also at Chez Duvall – tucking merrily into some spew-inducing meat in aspic on the rear terrace. Columbo sidles up and reveals that the poison that killed Vittorio wasn’t in the food – it was in the wine. This strikes Gerard off the list of suspects, because Mario has testified that the wine wasn’t even opened until after Gerard left the premises. But how did the poison get in the wine?
In one of the most sensible suggestions ever put forward by a Columbo killer, Gerard suggests that perhaps an insecticide spill at a French vinyard could have contaminated the bottle. But the Lieutenant has already checked on that, and the World Health Organisation has reported no such incidents.
Columbo even suggests a theory of his own: perhaps Vittorio was planning to murder Gerard with the poisoned wine! And once Gerard left, the angry Vittorio made the fatal error of drinking the wine himself! Both agree it’s a ridiculous suggestion.
However, Gerard is sufficiently spooked by Columbo’s investigations to order his lover / personal assistant Eve to close down the Restaurant Developers Association account, which is made out under her nom de plume, Irene DeMilo. He then shoos her away to prepare for a hastily-arranged trip to Europe, where the two will revisit the continent’s great restaurants.
Columbo, meanwhile, is back at the crime scene trying to understand Vittorio’s final moments. Just why was he slamming drawers? It’s then that the detective finds a drawer stuffed full of cancelled checks made out to the Restaurant Developers Association – nearly $100,000 worth!
Columbo also takes Vittorio’s pneumatic bottle opener away to examine after Albert tells him that he replaced its gas cartridge on the night of the killing. Strangely, it’s now empty. Perhaps there was poison in the gas cartridge? The proverbial plot thickens…
“The plot is now so thick that even ‘Iron’ Mike Tyson would struggle to punch his way through it.”
Hoping for a lead on the association, Columbo takes one of the cancelled checks with him to Vittorio’s funeral and (disrespectfully) has it passed around the attendees as the eulogy is read. Interestingly, Max Duvall takes one look at the check and dashes away. Mary Choy keeps hold of it, before tearing it up and (disrespectfully) littering the cemetary with it as she bustles away! Is funeral etiquette a lost art?
Columbo, therefore, makes a beeline to Chinatown to grill Mary. She admits to being the President of the association, and reveals that Duvall is Vice Prez and Vittorio was the Treasurer. But she claims no knowledge of the cancelled checks. To her knowledge, there was only $175 in the association’s commercial account. The plot is now so thick that even ‘Iron’ Mike Tyson would struggle to punch his way through it…
Anyways, Columbo amscrays to the bank, where he discovers the association also has a SAVINGS ACCOUNT into which checks were routinely paid by Vittorio, Duvall and Choy. But the account was closed three days before by one Irene DeMilo, who cleared out everything except $3000, which she converted into travellers checks.
I tell ya, this association sub-plot is now even thicker than Albert and Vittorio’s eyebrows combined. Not sure how thick that is? Look below…
To fathom it out, Columbo goes on a ‘fishing expedition’ to Gerard’s home – and gets a lot more than he bargained for. Gerard and Eve deny any knowledge of the association, but Columbo does get to sample some fugu, which Gerard had prepared for his Japanese dinner guest, Kanji Ousu. Mr Ousu gleefully reveals to Columbo that fugu is deadly poisonous – unless prepared by an expert like Paul Gerard.
Gerard also, and rather clumsily, drops into conversation that Eve is heading off to Europe the following day. And before you can say ‘travellers checks’, Columbo has the majority of the case figured out. He confirms his suspicions the next day by tricking Eve into revealing herself as Irene DeMilo. Her trip to Europe is officially off!
The mystery of how the poison got into the wine continues to elude him, though, until just before that night’s Restaurant Writers Awards dinner. Playing around with the bottle opener, he has a moment of clarity: the poison could have been in the opener’s nozzle. And who’d been to the restaurant and could have switched the openers? Paul Gerard…
“Gerard proposes a toast, and Columbo takes a good swig from his wine glass. Is it game over for our favourite detective?”
As a result, he creates an elaborate set-up to draw Gerard out. Promising the crowd at the awards bash that Vittorio’s murderer will be in police custody within 24 hours, he then invites Gerard to a farewell lunch, which he’ll prepare at Vittorio’s restaurant the following day. Seeing an opportunity to rid himself of the pesky detective once and for all, Gerard agrees.
And so we reach the denouement of the episode, as Columbo prepares a dish of veal scaloppine for Gerard in Vittorio’s kitchen. The two men chat amiably, and Columbo divulges key details of the case. He’s figured out that the murderer was a silent partner in the Restaurant Developers Association, and was evidently someone who had the power to boost the reputation of its members. And he believes fugu poison was used in the bottle opener to poison the wine.
The problem with his theory? It’s impossible to prove. So instead the two sit down to a meal and a glass of red wine – the bottle opened by Gerard using the same pre-prepared opener that he has again laced with fugu poison. Gerard proposes a toast and Columbo takes a good swig from his wine glass. Is it game over for our favourite detective?
No! Columbo is, as usual, two steps ahead. He suspected Gerard of switching bottle openers, so put a nick in the top of the one in Vittorio’s kitchen prior to cooking dinner. But there’s no nick on the top of the one on the table right now. It must be a different opener.
Gerard shrugs this off and is about to knock back a celebratory mouthful of wine from his own glass when Columbo sharply stops him. Gerard switched the bottle openers, but the Lieutenant switched the wine glasses! Once the lab boys can examine the wine, he’ll have the proof he needs to convict.
And the trigger to his initial suspicions? The fact that Gerard didn’t seek medical advice when police informed him that Vittorio had been poisoned, and instead came immediately to the restaurant to help with enquiries. “That’s the damnedest example of good citizenship I’ve ever seen,” Columbo explains.
“You’re a very able man, Lieutenant. But I really don’t care for you very much,” concedes a mildly shirty Gerard. “You know sir, I was thinking the same thing about you,” counters Columbo. “I respect your talent, but I don’t like anything else about you.”
Finally Gerard tastes the food that Columbo has prepared. “Lieutenant, I wish you had been a chef,” he laments, as credits roll…
Murder Under Glass‘s best moment: parting is bitter sweet
The conclusion to Murder Under Glass is really rather delicious – due in no small measure to the mutual contempt the two men hold each other in. They’ve disguised it well throughout, but in reality Columbo and Gerard are as incompatible as milk and melons.
Once he’s been busted, Gerard doesn’t bother to maintain the pretence any more, letting Columbo know outright that he doesn’t care for him very much. More unusual is that Columbo responds in kind, telling Gerard that while he respects his talent, he really doesn’t like him at all.
Such open antagonism is extremely rare from the mild-mannered Lieutenant, who generally keeps a very close guard on his true feelings. It ensures that the erudite Gerard is lumped in with Dr Barry Mayfield and Milo Janus as villains that Columbo – and the viewer – simply can’t stand. Enjoy the bitterness of the exchange below…
My take on Murder Under Glass
On paper, Murder Under Glass sounds like an absolute rip-roarer of an episode. Bond villain Louis Jourdan playing a food critic who murders a restaurant owner using blow fish poison injected into a glass of wine? Fantastico! That’s a scenario we haven’t even come close to seeing in the series up to now.
Thanks to hindsight, we also know that multi-Oscar-winning director Jonathan Demme was at the helm. Stupendo! Surely those are all the ingredients required to serve up a tasty slice of detective drama? Alas, not quite. There’s a lot wrong with Murder Under Glass, which, much as it pains me to say it, gets less palatable with every viewing.
I didn’t use to feel this way. Years ago I really liked Murder Under Glass and would have considered it a top 20 outing. The interplay between Gerard and Columbo amused me no end and the unique nature of the crime helped it stand tall in the memory. Now that I watch with a more analytical eye to pen these reviews, though, its failings become all too apparent.
In a nutshell, Murder Under Glass has a highly flawed and confusing sub-plot about the Restaurant Developers Association; the Columbo characterisation borders on infuriating; and the interactions between detective and suspect are, at times, so overdone it’s like watching an amateur dramatic society at work. And while it’s by no means all bad, these issues take plenty of shine off what could’ve been a really grand adventure.
I think the best place to start is to examine the Columbo portrayal in detail. If you read my recent review of Try & Catch Me, you may recall I bewailed how far the evolution of Columbo had removed him from the charming and natural character we knew and loved from the first 4-and-a-half seasons.
By season 7, Falk’s interpretation of the role had veered towards pastiche and is more akin to someone pretending to be Columbo, rather than actually being him. There were some indications of this in Try & Catch Me but Murder Under Glass ramps it all up to 11 to deliver the most annoying Columbo representation since Last Salute to the Commodore.
As an example, have a look at the clip below of Columbo first meeting Gerard. The overblown movements, expressions and style of line delivery are pretty hard to to digest. And the episode is stuffed full of ’em…
The weirdness that affected Columbo in Last Salute is out in force here, too. Take the scene when he roars at Mario in Italian, accusing him of killing his own uncle before cupping the lad’s face in both hands in an attempt to quell the panic that he himself caused. It’s truly bizarre.
Since when does Columbo treat an emotionally fragile material witness so cruelly? Poor Mario has just seen his uncle die horribly in front of his eyes. He speaks no English and the rest of his family is thousands of miles away. I get that the Lieutenant is putting on an act for Gerard, but it’s waaaaaay out of character and makes for uncomfortable viewing.
Columbo also ruins Vittorio’s funeral with his thoroughly disrespectful passing around of the check while an emotional eulogy is being read out. Admittedly the Lieutenant has previous here after being similarly impish at Frances Galesko’s funeral in Negative Reaction, but it’s not exactly what I’d call considerate behaviour.
“In terms of the Lieutenant’s portrayal, this isn’t far off Last Salute V2.0.”
But really, every scene featuring Columbo suffers from Falk’s over-acting. The arm gestures have never been bigger; we’ve never seen as many puzzled ‘out-to-lunch’ expressions, or pouts, on his face; and the ponderous line delivery is like a stand-in deputising (poorly) for the star of the show. Seriously, if you were directing an am dram stage version of Columbo and your lead man was fooling around like Falk was here, you’d be bellowing at him to rein it in – yet no one stopped it!
Worse yet, it seems like Jourdan caught the malaise, too – although if we assume he’s merely an expressive Frenchman it’s more acceptable. However, when the two are on screen together it’s as if they’re having a competition to see who can produce the most flamboyant gestures. There are more hand movements here than in a Punch & Judy re-enactment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. It raises the question: is this what Demme wanted, or was Falk calling the shots? I have my suspicions…
It’s a shame, because French ace Jourdan is actually rather good as Gerard and is well cast as the aloof and slimy food critic. He oozes aristocratic Gallic arrogance and is wonderfully acerbic towards the Lieutenant at episode’s end once he no longer has to keep up the pretence of civility. He’s certainly one of the series’ most loathsome killers, and if he and Falk had toned down the tomfoolery, Gerard could well have been considered amongst the great Columbo baddies. Le sigh…
Now to the plot, which is awash with holes that tighter writing could have salvaged. Let’s start with the murder itself, shall we? Because it’s evident that Gerard is also clairvoyant in being able to predict that Vittorio would proceed with opening (and drinking) the wine once he had departed from the scene.
Who knows, perhaps Gerard knew that Vittorio was a raging alcoholic who could never refuse a glass of the good stuff, regardless of mood? If not, then there’s a lethal weapon lying around Vittorio’s kitchen that could kill any innocent stooge at a later date. A pretty risky strategy, non?
Far more ridiculous, though, is that Gerard would try the exact same stunt to bump off Columbo! Obviously the fella’s risk management skillz are in dire need of assessment, because a person would have to be TRULY SIMPLE or DANGEROUSLY FOOLHARDY to attempt such a manoeuvre and expect to get away with it.
Did Gerard forget that Columbo is a police officer, and that it’s highly likely other officers would know about their little lunch tête-à-tête? If Columbo had wound up dead following this meeting even the Keystone Cops would’ve been able to pinpoint Gerard as the only viable suspect. It’s a reminder to us all that blind arrogance and a smug sense of superiority need to be kept in check at all times!
It’s also worth noting that it’s not until the gotcha that the viewer finds out precisely how Gerard managed to get the fugu poison into the glass. We never saw him syringe it into the nozzle, and the switcheroos he did with the bottle openers also were done off-screen. I’m guessing this subterfuge was meant to amaze the viewers at point of reveal, but I personally think it adds to the confusion and would have helped the viewer to see it all pan out on screen.
The biggest fault of the lot, though, is the confusion surrounding of the Restaurant Developers Association sub-plot. Almost every aspect of it wilts like a limp lettuce under closer examination, starting with why Vittorio finally decided the time was ripe to expose Gerard’s shady dealings?
We never find out. He acts as if he’s only just found out that Gerard is the mastermind behind the association extortion. This makes no sense, though, because during the opening scene of the episode Vittorio and fellow association members Max Duvall and Mary Choy seem entirely aware of how the set-up works, and comment that Gerard has ‘done alright for us’. Why is Vittorio the only furious one?
This leads to a bigger beef: all three restaurateurs have benefited from Gerard’s patronage to the extent that their establishments are considered amongst LA’s finest. So why not collectively stop paying Gerard the 25%? They don’t need him anymore, and if he tries to trash their reputations now they could either sue him or expose his fraudulent ways.
“For all its failings Murder Under Glass is still fun to watch.”
And even if they did take a short-term hit in profits after ditching Gerard, they’d presumably still be making more money than when they were paying him the 25%, and their restaurants would still be, y’know, as good as ever, so they’d soon be raking it in once more.
Finally, the time-scale surrounding the creation of the association is very murky. It would have needed at least a few years’ commitment for Vittorio et al to become a central destination for LA’s foodies, yet the Restaurant Developers Association appears to be some sort of scam cooked up by Gerard and Eve Plummer, under her pseudonym Irene DeMilo.
Eve – a naive 20-something – seems to be relatively new in Gerard’s life judging by her uncertainty about the status of their relationship, so it doesn’t ring true that she’s a long-term associate on this scheme. This confused writing raises so many questions! And it matters, because the poorly sketched premise is what the whole murder is built around.
Max Duvall also needs a roasting, because although he tells Columbo that Vittorio was in the mood to commit murder, he doesn’t then reference that Vittorio was due to confront Gerard that same evening. WHY, Max? Don’t you want your buddy to be avenged? It’s pretty inconsistent stuff.
Still, there must be a few crumbs of comfort, right? Well, thankfully yes because for all its failings Murder Under Glass is still fun to watch. Jarring characterisations aside, the script serves up several gems; the cat-and-mouse elements work; and Columbo never tires in his attempts to trip up his prey.
He plays Gerard like a fiddle when asking the critic whether Vittorio might have poisoned the wine to kill Gerard, before forgetfully imbibing it himself. Desperate to divert suspicion, Gerard says he can see how that might happen. “You can, sir?” asks Columbo in sham amazement. “Maybe you could explain it to me. I mean, how could a man make a mistake like that?” The critic is forced to backtrack pretty quickly.
Columbo later seizes on Gerard’s explanation for missing Vittorio’s funeral, which he claims is because he likes to remember his friends as he last saw them. “I believe Mr Rossi was yelling at you when you saw him last, isn’t that right sir?” the detective asks with a playful wag of the finger.
This is followed by another fine moment around the dining table when the excitable Kenji Ousu asks Columbo whether he has a hot suspect. “Weeeell, I’ve got my eyes on one,” the detective beams, slowly swinging his gaze round to land on Gerard. Even the Frenchman seems to enjoy that one!
The performance of Shera Danese is also an unexpected bonus. I’m not a huge fan of hers (particularly her far-too-many guest slots in the 90s), but she’s actually pretty good. Sure, there’s not a lot of depth to the role but she’s spot on as the not-too-bright-but-a-bit-sassy Eve Plummer. Of the main cast she arguably puts in the most believable turn – who could have predicted that?
Gold stars also go to the ingenious and unique murder method, as well as Columbo’s clever switching of the wine glasses at the end – a stunt that was totally stolen by The Princess Bride and is almost certainly the reason Peter Falk ended up being cast as the lovable grampappy in that splendid film.
And of course we get the very real pleasure of seeing Columbo tuck in to all that delicious food. Whether it’s calorie-rich foie gras canapes, eggs in jelly (blurgh), or a 20-course banquet, the Lieutenant has never enjoyed his grub more. And he doesn’t get an upset stomach – proof that his digestive system has toughened up after so much rich food with LA’s jet-setters. Plus we even see him sporting a chef’s hat as he cooks up a storm. HOT STUFF!
These bright spots can’t paper over the cracks, though. Murder Under Glass isn’t too far from vintage Columbo, but it’s hampered more than most by Falk’s theatrics. I so wish he’d toned it down, because if you were to insert season 3’s Lieutenant Columbo into this it would have been 10 times the episode.
Murder Under Glass also has the ignominious honour of being the first episode (I believe) to elevate This Old Man beyond a ditty Falk would hum or whistle to himself into a full-blown part of the score – and it’s as camp as a row of pink, floral tents!
The brisk, military-style rendition forms the backing track to a montage of Columbo and co. being served endless dishes at the Restaurant Writers Dinner. I consider this an ominous portent of what the show will become in the 1990s, when This Old Man was routinely worked into episode scores, making it Columbo‘s de facto – but increasingly charmless – theme tune. If you can’t recall this particular scene, take a look below…
All in all, Murder Under Glass is a tricky episode to assess, being neither the best nor worst of Columbo. In its own right it’s an enjoyable, if flawed, piece of television. Compare it critically against the entire Columbo back catalog, however, and it’s a sandwich short of a picnic.
If you’re the sort that simply loves any Columbo without worrying too much about the minutiae, it’s likely you’ll rate this one highly. For me, though, Murder Under Glass is more of a cafeteria dining experience when it ought to have been striving for a Michelin Star.
Did you know?
Paul Gerard is part of a select group of just six Columbo killers who tried to do exactly that – kill Columbo!
The frowning Frenchman is joined in this dubious club by Beth Chadwick (Lady in Waiting); Dr Eric Mason (How to Dial a Murder); Elliott Blake (Columbo Goes to the Guillotine); Vivian Dimitri (RIP Mrs Columbo); and Fielding Chase (Butterfly in Shades of Gray). Read more about this sinister sextet right here.
Incidentally, France Nuyen (who played Mary Choy) was the real-life wife of three-time Columbo murderer Robert Culp, from 1967-70. And what a smoking hot couple they were!
How I rate ’em
After the back-to-back euphoria of Bye-Bye Sky High and Try & Catch Me, reality bites back here with a distinctly average adventure that never gets close to hitting the heights of the very best episodes.
Missed any previous reviews? Then hit ’em up via the links below…
- The Bye-Bye Sky High IQ Murder Case
- Suitable for Framing
- Publish or Perish
- Double Shock
- Murder by the Book
- Negative Reaction
- A Friend in Deed
- Try & Catch Me
- Death Lends a Hand
- A Stitch in Crime
- Now You See Him
- Double Exposure
- Lady in Waiting
- Troubled Waters
- Any Old Port in a Storm
- Prescription: Murder
- A Deadly State of Mind —B-List starts here—
- An Exercise in Fatality
- Identity Crisis
- Swan Song
- The Most Crucial Game
- Etude in Black
- By Dawn’s Early Light
- Candidate for Crime
- Greenhouse Jungle
- Playback
- Forgotten Lady
- Requiem for a Falling Star
- Blueprint for Murder
- Fade in to Murder
- Ransom for a Dead Man
- Murder Under Glass
- A Case of Immunity
- Dead Weight —–C-List starts here—
- The Most Dangerous Match
- Lovely but Lethal
- Short Fuse ———D-List starts here—-
- A Matter of Honor
- Mind Over Mayhem
- Old Fashioned Murder
- Dagger of the Mind
- Last Salute to the Commodore —Z-List starts here—
Hit me with your opinion on Murder Under Glass below. I can quite believe that many readers enjoy it far more than I, so please share your thoughts as freely as a French chef shares his crab-stuffed mushrooms.
Next up on our Columbo journey is Make Me a Perfect Murder, which takes us into the shadowy realm of ambition, betrayal and murder in the cut-throat world of network television. Check back soon, and until then bonjour and Bon Snax!
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In the surreal but rather funny bank scene, who is the female bank clerk who so ably multi-tasked eating coffee cake whilst talking Columbo through the Associations bank accounts?
As an Italian native speaker and a professional interpreter and translator, there is a passage in this episode which has always caught my attention: the short dialog in Italian between the lieutenant and the victim’s nephew. In the original version, the two actors OBVIOUSLY do not speak Italian, they simply memorized the words. I must admit that they did quite a good job, they have a bizarre accent but everything is very understandable; there is only one funny mistake: the young man says “le cassette” (“the boxes”) instead of “i cassetti” (“the drawers”), I guess they had the script translated in writing by someone but those who translated it were not on the set.
In the Italian version, obviously, they could not simply speak Italian, since the entire episode is dubbed. For this reason, they speak Sicilian. This might sound like an arbitrary modification (what is more, in the original episode they say that the young guy who still doesn’t speak English is from Genoa), but it works because in our stereotypes, the Sicilian dialect is associated with “liveliness” and the mafia. I even asked a Sicilian to check whether the dialog in the Italian version was correct, they said it is, except for the word “poison”, which was translated as “tossicu”: understandable, they said, since it means “toxic”, but the Sicilian for “poison” should be “venenu” or something like that.
Fascinating! Grazie per questo, signore.
Anthony Alda studied in Rome and his mother was Italian. I am sure he spoke Italian at the time he played Mario DeLuca here, rather than just memorising the words. He does however say le cassette which is quite an interesting mistake to make.
This might be my third time watching the series, apart from seeing the originals as a child on television. This is the first time I have noticed that many episodes will have scenes that pay homage to something relevant to the plot. In this one, the opening scene where the other detective comes to Colombo and whispers in his ear is straight out of the Godfather. The lackey, whispering to the Godfather about who’s waiting to see him, and the Godfather whispering back that he can come in.
In Forgotten Lady, at the end, Colombo is in a tuxedo, because the last scene is filmed in the style of the classic movie. Everyone in tuxedos to socialize, a bit of a haze on the camera lens. If you notice, their style of speech and body language also takes on the style of a classic movie.
I think it’s wonderful. Not all episodes are perfect, but this is really a wonderful show, and I am delighted each time I watch it.
Commodore excepted!!!
I really am in doubt if the reviewer really likes the Columbo series at all. Looking for errors and flaws isn’t the most inspiring undertaking, and often ends up in an attemt to do it better than Columbo and any other policeman. I think that real-life investigation often depends on haphazard circumstances, where the real-life policeman fails to grasp a tiny signal, when it is there. On the other hand I see the problem of reviewing. What else can the reviewer do? I often encounter the phenomenon, that it isn’t the meaning of the story as a whole that is the point, but elements of the story that makes the psycology,without the context in which it is presented. I have often experienced that in my dreams. Insisting on a concious perception of an episode is, in my view, a too narrow analysis of what makes sense. Everybody knows that much of our psycology is concealed to us, especially in our dreams. Human life is definitely not made up by logic, though the materal world seem to be so. But let us not forget the fact, that each of us percieves everything through our psycology, also the material world. A I think, that a Columbo episode may redeem phenomena in our depths without our knowledge, but anyway of significance. And there it becomes exciting, beyond any analysis beyond any reviewer’s grasp. I find that the reviewer tries to put Columbo in a Prokruste’s bed of his own device. We are all humans – also Columbo.
I may be wrong, but it’s been my belief that Columbo is just a written and filmed character. Not particularly human, but a figment of many writers’ and actor’s’ imaginations. If he ever was a real human, he certainly led a charmed life, being a cop for so many years while eschewing carrying a firearm! But I’m 99.99% sure the Columbo episodes are not documentaries! j/k of course!
If there’s any Procrustean bed here, it was the requirement to shape each Columbo story into a formula: an inverted mystery; a rich and often famous murderer; quickly narrowing the field down to one suspect, doggedly pursued; a devastatingly clever denouement — and a formulaic lead character: a mythical, idiosyncratic, exceptionally perceptive, but always underdog cop who was never intended to resemble a realistic policeman. The formula was what audiences demanded. The formula is a great part of what made Columbo a hit.
But that doesn’t mean that all Columbos were created equal. To pretend they are is to denigrate the best of the best. Some have flaws. It isn’t heresy to point this out.
In 1966, after a long string of mega-hit Broadway comedies, Neil Simon wrote a flop: “The Star-Spangled Girl,” a mid-60’s clash between an anti-establishment young man and an oh-so-establishment young woman. At one point, the woman asks, “Is there anything about this country you do like?” He replies: “I like almost everything about this country except people who like absolutely everything about this country.”
For some reason, I think of that line at moments like this.
Often Columbo represent the viewer in these high-society environments, and just this of his humaneness makes him a satisfaction to look at. Here and there you can in-compose yourself in his figure. It may very well be, that Columbo episodes are composed from a fixed formula, but the art of the viewer is to leave the content of the episodes be transparent whether there is a formula or not. Nobody experiences anything just by seeing through a formula except the dubious prize of outsmarting the authors. If the viewer dont do this part of the job, it all falls to the ground. It lies very near that the viewer tries to quickly grasp the crux of the problem (outsmarting Columbo), but in my opinion the whole thing goes deeper. When it really works there is the phenomenon regarding: Who do we identify ourselves with? Experiencewise this is a highly variable problem. Of course the authors does a lot of thinking about this problem, but people usually are not that easy to predict. They ask questions. They seek here and there, and they misinterpret circumstances. Some inhale the high-society air, some breathe the presence of Columbo (or any of the other roles present in each episode). Seeing an episode of Columbo is not a competition of being smart, though many seems to percieve it that way.
And regarding the issue of whether Columbo being real or documentary – that is not the point. It is up to the viewer to see Columbo as real – spirtual flexibility is not an everyday finding. The viewer must have talent of his own. Full satisfaction or the money is wasted.
Oh, how great plot. And so beautiful. I also loved the beautiful music.
The plot. Columbo was always nearly about to find, to do something. It was always on the edge of something. One wondered whether he would discover it or not (and of course, with a Columbo, it is nice because you know he will find). Greatly done.
Good actor, that vilain. The other chefs also.
Of course it was also a very nice episode with all that food. In the beginning it made me think of the episode where Columbo had so much looked at an ice cream that he hadn’t seen a gun in a waste bin.
So even if I am vegetarian, I liked looking at all those plates and recipes. But the foie gras was too much for me. Animal rights matter.
And the beautiful Japanese scenes.
I also loved the Italian boy and the fact that Columbo speaks Italian. Waw! This man really never disappoints me. He can cook very well, he is kind and intelligent, and an anglophile speaking Italian, that’s very good.
The last sentence, about Columbo better having been a chef… I’m happy he hasn’t been, wouldn’t have liked him fat!
What I wonder is, where has the chili gone that Columbo ate in the beginning of the Columbos?
I’ve never seen Columbo eat so much ( and drink ) as he does in
Murder Under Glass. He seems to scoff food far more than investigate the crime.
Not a great episode unlike the fantastic Undercover
I conducted a meticulous analysis of the final minutes of the scene to identify any potential moments for a glass switch. Here are the key points:
1. At approximately 1:00:33, Gerard places his own glass of (unpoisoned) wine on the table, which is clearly visible at around 1:00:51.
2. Around 1:01:34, Gerard brings the poisoned glass to Columbo, saying, “Your wine”, and Columbo requests him to put it down on the stove, which he does at 1:01:43. Note that prior to Gerard placing the poisoned glass on the stove, there is only one glass (Gerard ‘s) on the table, making a switch impossible before that moment.
3. Columbo’s glass remains visible intermittently until 1:02:42, during which time they are engaged in conversation and maintain eye contact, making a switch highly unlikely.
4. The only potential timeframe for a switch is in the few seconds from 1:02:41 (when Gerard says, “I was going to make…”) until 1:02:45 when Gerard turns away from Columbo, goes back to the table, and puts the cork back in the bottle before stating, “I didn’t have to!” After this point until 1:04:17, further switch becomes implausible as they continue their conversation and maintain eye contact.
5. Around 1:04:17, Gerard takes his presumed own glass, bringing the sequence to a conclusion. Hence, within those mere 4 seconds (1:02:41 and 1:02:45), Columbo would have had to execute the switch. Both glasses are indeed visible at 1:03:46, and although they appear to be slightly far apart, it is not entirely impossible to execute a switch within a mere 4 seconds, especially if we consider the possibility of magician-like abilities possessed by Columbo!
6. Examining the glasses at 1:00:51, 1:01:44, and 1:03:46 (after the switch, according to my theory), it appears that the table glass at 1:03:46 has moved in front of the white dish instead of being on the left as seen at 1:00:51. However, considering the quantity of wine in the glass, it seems to me that the one on the stove still appears to have a slightly larger quantity before and after the “switch”.
It’s worth noting that being a movie, the sequence may have condensed the story, allowing for off-screen moments where the switch could have occurred!
I never care for Columbo promising a roomful of people that he’s going to solve the case in 24 hours, because it’s pretty theatrical. (In a funny way, it’s the kind of thing a Lt. Lucerne would do.)
And if it isn’t theatrical, it’s reckless. Not as reckless as accusing Milo Janus in front of a lot of witnesses, but it’s right up there.
I must say this is a favorite episode among the 70’s originals.
Falk is in good comic-dramatic form, Jourdan is quite suave in his role, and Mako is always a delight to watch and listen to.
Even for a fine series as Columbo, this is an episode that definitely kept me guessing just how Msr. Gourmet Writer accomplished the murder, and how the Lt. would solve the crime, and have proof.
It helps that the settings are sumptious, reminiscent of later films such as Babette’s Feast, Big Night, etc. Not too many lagging areas; a few repetitive ones involving Columbo being fed by well-wishers.
A breezy episode, perhaps even educational. A-minus, in my book.
I am glad that this review confirmed what suspected: that this was the rare Columbo episode to NOT show exactly how the murder was committed! I even went back to the murder scene to see if I’d missed anything…but I hadn’t. Actually, rewatching that scene made the murder even more confusing because not only did I not see it, I also did not see any opportunity for either of the two actions – injecting the wine bottle and switching the wine openers – to have been committed at all! When did Gerard have time to do these two things?? So the murderer is not only clairvoyant but also…magical?
To me, this is the greatest flaw by far of the episode: that the murder we see doesn’t match up with the explanation later offered. The fun of Columbo’s structure is seeing a murderer meticulously commit and cover up a murder step by step….then watching Columbo pick it all apart and reveal what the murderer did wrong. That reveal isn’t satisfying if you don’t see the actual crime!
Agree, it’s one episode that still wasn’t completely clear to me how the murder was completed or what solid evidence was there for Columbo to act on. Middle of the road episode at best but still enjoyable.
The interchange between Columbo and Gerard at the end is too much, and arguably the best part of the episode. All in all, the mystery is very weak. With Colombo just happening to drop by while Gerard is serving the source of the poison! And why try to kill Colombo at the end. Gerard got away with it. He must have hated the lieutenant a whole lot, to risk his freedom.
That is very eagle-eyed of you! Never noticed that myself.
The one point I take issue with is the suggestion that the switching of the wine glasses was borrowed by The Princess Bride. It is more likely that it was borrowed FROM The Princess Bride. The book was written in 1973, years before Murder Under Glass.
Why do several people say the switching of wine glasses was “borrowed from The Princess Bride?” As if switching poison glasses was invented by Rob Reiner in that movie. It was used there BECAUSE it was a OLD gag! Really, do you ever look at old black and white films, read murder mysteries, or watch plays?
I rather enjoyed this one, except for the gotcha scene that was way too drawn out, I almost fell asleep. And Columbo in full Chef gear was very over-the-top for me. I did notice he was waving his hands a lot as well. I also thought it was very implausible and even ludicrous Columbo would be so connaisseur about fine cuisine.
But yeah there are a lot of flaws when you look at things more closely, especially the murder which was way too reliant on luck to be plausible.
Agree, despite the flaws it’s a fun and entertaining episode. I always thought it is kind of a “Columbo Light” in the same category as Lovely But Lethal.
CP, I agree with you 100% on this one (it was fun watching Columbo cook, though).
To be honest, I don’t entirely understand the point about Falk’s acting as being a parody of Columbo, as a contrast to the earlier episodes. Surely, he does embarrassing things, but he does so in the earlier episodes too. That’s part of the whole Columbo character altogether, isn’t it?
That being said, this episode was not among my favourites either, but I think my biggest problem with it was the rather cartoon’ish and cliched chef-types, for instance the one who served him the stuffed mushrooms. Does any real life chef actually act like that?
My only complaint about this review is that you don’t mention Mako. Yes, he plays a relatively small part, but the fact that it’s MAKO should make that fact irrelevant.
Probably my least favorite episode of the original series. So many awful scenes…Columbo and the geisha girls, This Old Man at the banquet, on and on. Truly the worst.
Shouldn’t it be called, “Murder Under Cork”?
There is a direct correlation to how much makeup they put on Falk and how over the top his acting was.
`So we see that Columbo is a foodie. He knows so much about food, but not what escargot is?
As a self-admitted “foodie” and lifelong learning cook, I enjoy this episode. But more than that, it looks like the players are enjoying it as well (and not by being buzzed as might be possible by everyone in “Commodore” except the really buzzed Diane Baker character) I loved the line by the Danese character to the departing dinner party scene character who acknowledged not yet having yet tasted grits. She advised “Don’t bother”. (I had to laugh, because I understood the comment because she had not had them tastily prepared.) In short, its a fun watch for a foodie, and the players are having a good time. Its also one of the less weird roles for Columbo’s real live spouse.
Appalling episode.
I’ve been watching these in chronological order and this is probably the worst episode I’ve seen so far – at Last Salute to the Commodore was interesting in places.
I found this boring from start to finish.
Falk’s performance is totally bizarre and the scene where Columbo keeps looking back at the geisha as he leaves the room is downright creepy.
And then there’s Jourdan who acts with his eyes as big as saucers just as he did in Octopussy.
The whole thing was absolute rubbish.
Paul left enough clues to sink a cannoli.
Any Californians have knowledge about the coffee cake?????
I was NOT even five (that’s 5) years old when this episode first aired. I saw it on Sundace last week. How ’bout Gerard’s voice rasing, “BUT HOW DID THE FUGU POISON GET INTO THE BOTTLE”!? Then his voice lowered, “LIEUTENANT VITTORIO WAS ALONE”. PRICELESS! My dearly departed dad was the resident Columbo fan and I am too, been a fan for decades.
Can’t remember — is this the one where they show exteriors of Chinese restaurants and then cut to the chef talking about Japanese food? That’s like showing an English fish and chip shop exterior and then showing people in lederhosen and little green hats inside serving up sausage and sauerkraut.
Yes, that’s the one.
I liked this one too. I’m not much of a critic, I’ll admit. I noticed the out burst with the waiter which seemed odd, and I always overlook the holey plot but I didn’t think this one was THAT bad. But then again I found Commodore episode to be hilarious. Also, I love watching people eat. Columbo and Gerard eat in the European style. And all the 1970s food! Aspic anyone!? Antony Alda is Alan Aldas brother, so dreamy and wide eyed.
I actually really liked this one as a whole. Probably one of my favorites so far in my third rewatch of the series.
Shera and cioppino! Obviously the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship.
What is the salad they are eating at the end meal?
Just watched this again on Sundance Network in the USA…, it’s been a few years so i prepared with a great meal, pizza and a bottle of red wine. I remember this just as i did the first time i saw it. A very enjoyable guilty pleasure Columbo, sort of a Columbo lite on par with Lovely But Lethal. It is certainly not a classic in any way, but that’s OK, as CP writes “for all it’s failings, it’s still a fun watch”.
Couldn’t stand this episode, it’s just a bit bleh. It’s not the usual Columbo trying to investigate a murder at all.
One of the worst episodes of the original run for me.
I agree i watched it Sunday night on 5USA , I dont ever enjoy it much the case is very hollow , columbo is just eating posh food in every scene , most of the characters can hardly speak English and columbo is a bit weird in this one , I place this one well down the seventies list