"Why did I leave the Village that night? Because I put my musicians union card in mothballs five years ago. When it dawned on me that my talent was an octave lower than my ambition. So while my heart is still on the bandstand, I pay for the groceries away from the piano. And when I get a business call these days, even at two in the morning, I answer it..."
Staccato - or Johnny Staccato as it became slightly better known through reruns - may only have lasted a single season in 1959, but it cast a pretty big shadow for those who saw it. Starring John Cassavettes as a former jazz musician turned private eye, it was a genuinely hip take on the genre with a voice-over riddled with jazz slang and some initially surprising production values that made many episodes look like a classy film noir in miniature and sound like nothing else on TV thanks to a superb Elmer Bernstein score that ranks alongside his classic Man with the Golden Arm. It didn't hurt that each episode included regular musicians like Shelley Mane, Red Norvo and Johnny Williams (later John Williams of Star Wars and Jaws) both on the soundtrack and sometimes on screen in the jazz joint that doubled as Johnny's office, while the lineup of directors wasn't too shabby either, John Brahm, Boris Sagal and Paul Henreid among them, with Cassavettes himself directing five episodes. The plots often didn't stand up to too much scrutiny, with neat hooks like scandal mags-cum-blackmail rackets, heroin addicted musicians and black market babies all wrapped up a little too neatly by the bad guys getting stupid before the 25 minute running time was up, and there was the odd bit of overacting from a hypercaffeinated Cassavettes, but the attitude and gritty location feel of the show gave it a real freshness that still endures. Rather than being stuck on the studio or backlot, enough of it really was shot on the streets of New York in a style that straddled classic noir and early cinema verite to give it a unique flavour even if some of the episodes were rather too obviously trying to weave stock location scenes with soundstage work away from the big city.
There were interesting guest stars too - Charles McGraw, Elisha Cook Jr, Dean Stockwell, Martin Landau, Elizabeth Montgomery, Mary Tyler Moore, Jack Weston, Cloris Leachman, Harry Guardino, Michael Landon, Sig Ruman, Norman Fell, John Marley and Alexander Scourby (excellent as a mercenary revivalist preacher) among them. He even found himself on a plane with real-life wife Gena Rowlands and a bomb in one episode while the pilot included Burt Lancaster's regular sidekick Nick Cravat in a rare speaking role, which is almost like hearing Harpo Marx speak in the novelty stakes! It may not be the greatest private eye series, but it's just enough off he beaten track to carve out a unique niche for itself and, if you're in the right mood in the wee small hours of the morning it hits just the spot.
Timeless Media's three disc set is extras free but does offer decent transfers of all 27 episodes (albeit with a some of minor instances of music replacement for contractual reasons) and is well worth picking up - but you might as well order Elmer Bernstein's fantastic soundtrack album at the same time, because after you see the show you'll probably want that as well.