shered into prime time with a theme song by Tweet, Ving Rhames tonight will try to woo 21st century audiences by revamping a TV icon born in the 1970s.
For those who don't remember Telly Savalas' bald, lollipop- addicted lieutenant -- or the decade when DNA was just "and" spelled backward -- we opted to do a little profiling of yesterday's "Kojak" and today's. The two-hour made-for-TV movie with Rhames in the title role will be shown at 8 p.m. on the USA Network; eight hourlong weekly episodes will follow. Meanwhile, season one of the original Savalas series (which ran from 1973 to '78) landed on DVD this week.
Ving Rhames
THE SETUP. Not only is theirs the oldest profession, but prostitutes as the target of serial killers is a premise as old as the hills in the TV cop genre. The twist here is the method of the murders. Rhames' Kojak catches a case in which hookers' mouths are being stuffed with razor blades and taped shut, presumably forcing them to "drown in their own blood." (!)
THE LOOK. Rhames continues the passion for fashion established in the original series. The finely tailored suits (pinstripes are de rigueur) fit the broad-shouldered actor like, well, a finely tailored suit -- yet they don't prevent him from running full out to nab a suspect. Oh, yeah -- the famed fedora rests comfortably on his bald head.
THE STYLE. Tough. That's clear early on when Rhames demonstrates his Russian-roulette brand of interrogation. But was there really any question about the persuasive powers of the actor who uttered -- with absolute conviction -- the now-famous "Pulp Fiction" line "I'm gonna get medieval on your a--"? The show apparently doesn't think so either. On the other hand, it spends an inordinate amount of time trying to convince us he can play tender. The kids stay in the picture.
THE BACKUP. There is a Crocker on this Kojak's team, but he appears to be the only detective who time-traveled from the old squad room. In this first installment he's so understated he may as well have been called John Doe. Chazz Palminteri ("A Bronx Tale") reprises Capt. Frank McNeil and gets a decent chunk of screen time as Kojak's confessor/best friend as well as his boss. Reflecting the changing times, there also is a female detective clocking in.
THE LOVE LIFE. Roselyn Sanchez ("Rush Hour 2") is the assistant district attorney Rhames romances. The relationship is in its first- blush stages, but his soft loft and jazz record collection could make for magical evenings later on.
Telly Savalas
THE SETUP. Inspired by real events -- sensational Manhattan rape- homicides -- the riveting 1973 pilot that launched Savalas' series, titled "The Marcus-Nelson Murders," was a hit with viewers and earned Emmys for Abby Mann's teleplay and Joseph Sargent's direction. (Unfortunately, it's not packaged with the first-season DVD.)
THE LOOK. The detective shows of the '70s were all about "personafication" of their lead actors -- in addition to Savalas' dapper detective there also was the fat detective and the elderly detective. And their monikers served as the titles: "Kojak," "Cannon," "Barnaby Jones" -- 'nuff said. Kojak's three-piece suits - - yes, he was a vest man -- and custom hats stood in dramatic contrast to the era's famous rumpled detective. (And, one more thing: When a student played by James Woods swipes Kojak's hat in season one's "Death Is Not a Passing Grade," the fashion-conscious lieutenant replaces it in the very next act.)
THE STYLE. Cool. A genuine Rico Suave, Savalas' Kojak is just as likely to finesse a confession by kissing the back of a junkie's hand as by applying an iron fist. He conveys charm and humor through his dealings with colleagues, victims, suspects and (alas) the occasional child.
THE BACKUP. Crocker (Kevin Dobson) was the eager-beaver youngster under Kojak's wing. There also was the plant-loving Stavros (George Savalas, Telly's real-life brother) whom Kojak loved to tease. Capt. McNeil (Dan Frazer) went through the motions of being Kojak's superior, but there was no doubt about who was really in charge.
THE LOVE LIFE. In the post-free love/pre-AIDs 1970s, Savalas' Kojak was most definitely a playa. He was often portrayed with lovely ladies -- all hoping to have him intone, "Who loves ya, baby?" And mean it.
Copyright The Chicago Sun-Times, Inc.
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.