Great Sci-Fi Couple: Mulder and Scully, Romantic Friends

On Votaries, I am posting about Characters Who Transform. A subcategory is Characters Who Disguise Themselves. And an odd subcategory is Characters Who Disguise Themselves Permanently. 

Under that last category, I am posting about Mulder and Scully. 

I'm a huge fan of Mulder and Scully. I think they fall into the "Friendship" category of romantic partners rather than the "Knight and Damsel in Distress" or "Instant Attraction" categories. And a great deal of that friendship comes about because Scully joins Mulder on his "island." They are not technically in disguise but they are isolated by their mutual knowledge of the Truth or the Pursuit of Truth.  

This type of thing can get a little squeamish--Stockholm Syndrome, anyone? 

But like the young man who returns to his wolf lover, nobody is being coerced. The choice to walk into the dark, onto the island, away from the "accepted" narratives is made with the eyes wide open. 

Friendship runs the relationship because the final "I love you! I love you!" confrontation is not the point. The couple have already been living a "marriage" for most of the seasons. Their relationship is the relationship of people who are so far gone in terms of intimacy with another human being, there can be no one else. 

One of my favorite scenes where closeness replaces declarations of affection is "Memento Mori." Scully tells Mulder that she has cancer and instead of getting maudlin, he says, "I refuse to accept that." I LOVE that line: "I refuse to accept that." Somehow, it makes Mulder so much more real and more passionate than the usual romantic hero and yet, at the same time, gives you a sense of Mulder's personality. 

Dysfunctional Couples: Relationships That Won't Work but are Written Well

I was a young teen--fourteen or so. I was sitting in the back of my friend's car while her mother drove. Her mother had divorced and later remarried. My friend was the only child from the remarriage (my friend had multiple older step-siblings). 

The mother said, "Of course, if both members of the couple were truly Christian, they would be able to make the marriage work."

Without thinking, I said, "Oh, that isn't true!" 

In retrospect--about two hours later--I freaked out. I would never had said anything if I'd thought about what I was saying and to whom. But from the perspective of decades, I'm glad I did. What I remember is the mother's gratified smile. She wasn't upset at my teenage disgust at the idea that any two people could make a go of it as long as they were nice or moral enough. 

Oddly enough, many television relationships reveal a similar mindset to that woman. That is, they can't image that two characters they like can't make a go of it. If the relationship fails, it must be due to a 3rd party--a rival--cheating--or the possibility of cheating. 

But three of the best-written non-workable couples on television reveal the opposite. 

Sherlock and Fiona from Elementary: Sherlock is honestly attracted to Fiona and she to him. He honestly likes her and vice versa. He doesn't break up with her due to her neural atypical behavior. Rather, he breaks up because he perceives himself as his work, not as a man who works and then has a relationship. Watson challenges his approach when she points out that her mother has no interest in her father's books. But Sherlock is not the same as Watson's mother, and Watson doesn't assume he should be, only that he should be kind and quick in his break-up. 

Jo and Isaac from Forever:  Jo and Isaac date for approximately 3 episodes (see image above). And Isaac is a great, fun guy! In the end, however, Jo realizes that she would rather spend time with Henry. 

Jo and Henry are an interesting match. Not only do the actors have terrific chemistry, there is never any suggestion that their first loves won't remain their first loves. The future relationship (which would have happened if the show didn't end with Season 1) rests on the fact that they not only like each other, they like what the other person wants in a relationship. What Isaac wanted was not what Jo wants--which, again, she perceives in Henry. 

Booth and Hannah I write about here: https://katewoodbury.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-significant-others-other-bones.html

In all three cases, the issue is not CHEATING. The issue isn't even personality. Everybody is swell. The issue is what each person looks for in a relationship. Absent a cultural agreement--A relationship IS the following--that issue comes down to individual compatibility. 

Disguises: Boy to Girl

Earlier, I discuss the archetypal disguise of the girl dressed as a boy. 

The archetypal disguise of the boy dressed as a girl has an equally long tradition. Achilles is hidden among young women by his mother, who doesn't want him to go to war. Odysseus unmasks Achilles when he places a spear among a variety of goods and Achilles picks it up. In my critique/tribute to Herland--which involves a boy dressed as a girl--my primary male narrator and one of the mentors have this exchange:

Moadine said, “In the tunnel, an argument ensued. Astyanax was male, a potential warrior. He would bring danger to the sanctuary the woman hoped to find or build. They knew the story of Achilles, how Odysseus uncovered him, disguised, in a court of women, spotted him because he alone picked up a sword.”

I nodded. I knew the story. I also knew plenty of women, including a niece, who would also have gone for the sword. Just as I knew plenty of women in Troas who yearned for competitive opportunities as much as did Alim. 

Boy-to-girl narratives often involve disclosure due to "male" action--hence, my narrator's ruminations. The same narrator will later point out that Alim is steadily getting taller and stronger than his compatriots--despite his youth. 

The question, What constitutes differences between genders? arises again and again in these types of tales. 

After all, identifying differences is more interesting and narratively satisfying than pretending that biological and physical differences don't exist at all.

In Eli Easton's Robby Riverton, Eli Gregory's Eleventh Hour, and, for that matter, Quantum Leap's "What Price Gloria?" male protagonists adopt female personas as part of a larger adventure. The sacrifices and choices of the female personas are stressed and admired. Both Robby and Miles use their female personas to showcase another side of their personalities. Since Sam is being female for the first time, the episode stresses his need to adapt. In later episodes, he wears his dresses (and flats, which he prefers) with grace and style. None of the characters show embarrassment. They use their female personas to make connections, discover international secrets, and--in Sam's case--stand up to a sexist boss. 

At the same time, the reality of being female is stressed. The temporary use of a female name or pronoun doesn't magically override issues like body shape, hormones, or menstruation. The biological female body is applauded in these stories, not treated as an optional extra or a mass of cliches. It is about living, not about performing, and the body/persona is never assumed out of shame.       

Great Sci-Fi Couples: Cam and Arastoo

Forbidden Planet reminded me of one of my lists: Great Sci-Fi Couples

I include Cam and Arastoo on this list. Sure, Bones is a modern detective forensic show, but the very cool equipment and some of the plots have a sci-fi element. 

In truth, though, what I like about Cam and Arastoo is not so much the sci-fi part but how believable I find them. The episode in which Arastoo's parents come to town highlights the couple's compatibility. Some men marry women who resemble their mothers. Arastoo is one of them!

Cam is somewhat more diplomatic than Arastoo's mother. But she is just as tough and independent. And Arastoo, at heart, is like Booth (and Sam from Sister Boniface) and his own father: a family-oriented guy who is somewhat more laid back than his girlfriend/wife despite his personal ambitions. 

Arastoo gets upset with his parents in the episode but at his core, he is mild-mannered and big-hearted. His gentle suggestion that Cam forgive the woman who stole her identity (or, at least, walk away) is a good example of how well the two work together. 

Bromance: Ryan and Esposito

"Bromance" refers to a type of buddy-buddy relationship between men that exists in older literature. It goes beyond friendship, having a chivalrous and romantic tone. Such friends are often easily "shipped" (think of Spock and Kirk). In some cases, as with Supernatural, the "bromance" elements override the character's fraternal relationship (which naturally confuses the characters). 

I like bromances of all types, from war buddies rescuing each other to not-brothers-brothers being all-in-all to each other (and then there's Castiel!). I like bromances with romance...

And I like bromances without romance. 

Ryan and Esposito from Castle strike me as one of the best male friendships without a romantic element out there. I'm sure someone somewhere has "shipped" them. But I find their platontic partnership and easy camaraderie entirely believable. Unlike some (not all) television bromances, I don't feel like the wife/girlfriend is thrown in to remind us "uh, no, really, they are heterosexual." Ryan with Jennie (played by his real-life wife) and Esposito with various girlfriends, including Lanie, continue to be good friends. As their lives and personalities expand, they remain friends.  

Good writing and acting! 

Della and Perry as True Equals

 

In the remake of Perry Mason (2020), Della Street is apparently a lesbian. 

The reason I don't know for sure is I never really watched it. I tried to because I quite like Matthew Rhys. But the pilot movie seemed more Bogart than Mason to me, so I gave up. My information here is based on summaries of the show. 

I suspect that having Della Street be a lesbian in the 2020 remake was partly to explain why she and Mason never get together and possibly, also, a tribute to Raymond Burr who was gay and lived with a partner for many years on his ranch. 

But I find the choice somewhat disappointing and the reason has nothing to do with characters being or not being gay. 

The reason is that the unstated romance between Della Street and Perry Mason in the original 1957-1966 show (where they are a kind of low-key version of Mulder and Scully) was WAY ahead of its time. 

Unlike so many of these shows--in which the detective or PI or hero figure rushes around rescuing the poor lil' woman-- Perry treats Della with an impressive degree of "hey, you can handle yourself" respect--even in the later movie where he defends her--and she responds in kind. 

In an Season 6 episode, Della is worried about a friend. She asks Perry how far he would go for a friend; he is emphatic that if he trusted the friend, he would do whatever he could to help. Della then asks Perry for a loan of a substantial amount of money. He pulls out his checkbook without hesitation and gives her what she needs. 

He doesn't try to force her confidence. He doesn't try to fix the situation without her consent (though he later, of course, defends the friend in a trial). He utterly trusts her assessment of the situation. 

The behavior is still impressive if Perry is helping Della, his friend. But Perry helping Della his friend, secretary, and woman-he-feels-romantic-towards, the behavior is...once again...WAY ahead of its time, an exemplar for every kind of couple relationship. 

Bromance: Murdoch and Pendrick

Murdoch has several close male associates. The Murdoch-Pendrick relationship is especially enchanting, in part because they share interests but also because their relationship comes with loads of plot! 

Murdoch suspects James Pendrick of crimes on a regular basis, while still applauding his inventions. In one of the best season openers, they fly a plane together. 

When Pendrick moves on to producing movies, he bases the first picture-with-a-story on Murdoch (the very first motion pictures were, as Murdoch Mysteries correctly shows, series of moving images: trains, carriages, shoot-outs).  

I wouldn't be surprised if, like Kirk and Spock, Murdoch-Pendrick were "shipped"--Pendoch? Murdrick? In a later episode, Pendrick--who is continually betrayed by his assistants--wonders if he could "change his nature" to get together with the one male assistant who defended him. 

He sadly decides, "No." And he is standing next to Murdoch when he comes to that decision.  

Great Chivalry Moment: Columbo in "Dead Weight"

So many times in Columbo, Columbo figures out the murderer early on. In "Death Lends a Hand," he figures out the murderer within their first meeting because (1) the man has inserted himself into the investigation; (2) the man's job of private investigator accounts for the claim by the husband that his dead wife had "a clean bill of health"--she supposedly wasn't having an affair; (3) the man is wearing a ring that corresponds to the cut on the victim's cheek. 

In fact, Columbo makes a correct deduction based on strong circumstantial evidence! 

Sometimes, however, his conclusions seem more random. 

"Dead Weight" is a nice exception since Columbo doesn't immediately pinpoint the murderer. He is cautious, in part because of the suspect's reputation but also because he is investigating based on a single eyewitness, and eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable.

And yet...he investigates anyway. And when he investigates, he is thorough, even to insisting that a crate be reopened (see image above). He listens closely to the eyewitness and takes her seriously. He withholds his judgment of accuser and accused until he has thoroughly examined the case. He later points out to the eyewitness, who struggles with self-doubt, that he trusted her more than she trusted herself. 

Wonderful chivalrous and objective role model! 

Bromance, Sister Style: Brenda and Captain Raydor

Brenda and Captain Raydor (Sharon) meet in The Closer. They are frenemies since Captain Raydor works in Internal Affairs and takes issue with many of Brenda's actions. The two women acknowledge, quite frankly, that they don't like each other. 

However, Captain Raydor has the objectivity to put forward Brenda for the position of police chief or commissioner. She admires Brenda even if they are not best buddies. She later protects Brenda or, rather, gets Brenda to protect herself during a lawsuit. 

In a very cute moment in Season 6, Brenda's mother refers to Sharon, Captain Raydor, as Brenda's friend. Captain Raydor treats the moment as the "treat" or present that it is. To Will Pope, she repeats, "My friend Brenda."  

It's a great example of a relationship that avoids the "all women must cry at Beaches" label on female friendships--it has all the down-to-earth loyalty and intelligence and job-focus of male chivalrous relationships.  

Quite appropriately, Brenda and Sharon are sometimes "shipped"!  

Love After the Passage of Years: Is it Possible?

I mention on Votaries that the Holmes's tale "The Adventure of the Crooked Man" is deeply romantic. Arthur Conan Doyle was a man with a deeply romantic nature--one possible reason his Holmes comes across as somewhat more layered and complex than the man pretends to be. 

The story is a good one, and the Granada production is excellent. 

Interestingly enough, both tale and episode do not try to explain what will happen to Henry Wood next. Will he stay away from Nancy? Will she try to seek him out? Their positions in Edwardian society would make a marriage unlikely. But the question here is more universal. 

With the passage of time, are romantic feelings from the past enough to restart a relationship? 

Stargate SG-1 has a great episode, "The Torment of Tantalus," where Catherine goes through the gate to track down her fiance Dr. Ernest Littlefield who went through the gate 52 years earlier. 

A later passing reference suggests that Catherine and Ernest got back together. 

And I kind of don't buy it. 

In the nurture/nature debate, I tend to come down (partly) on the side of nature, as in genetics. But in the nature/agency debate, I come down on the side of choice. 

A person's character can stay much the same. But that person isn't un-impacted by experience. People make decisions that lead to other decisions that lead to other decisions. C.S. Lewis comments in one of his books that the choices look haphazard at the time but entirely organic and "meant" or fated in retrospect.

As Joe in Joe versus the Volcano remarks, "It's a long crooked road that brought me here to you." 

Is Catherine the same person she was in 1945? In essence, sure. But in lifestyle? Living arrangements? Wants? Needs? 

For instance, the woman is a powerhouse and was when she was younger (excellently played in the episode by Nancy McClure). In 1945, marriage was more of a given. She's managed without marriage for years. And now she's going to change her mind? 

Maybe she just hauls Ernest around with her like an extra retainer. 

As for Nancy and Henry Wood, she might leave her life and go with him. But the time period and their backgrounds could likely preclude them overlooking the social stigmas. 

Maybe the memory of romance in that case is enough. 

Good Break-Up: Death in Paradise

I usually dislike break-up stories, just as I usually dislike constantly fighting exes.

However, the break-up at the end of Death in Paradise, Season 3, is excellently written. It also demonstrates an internal transformation (on Votaries, I am currently examining characters who undergo such transformations). 

I'm conservative enough to not have the highest opinion of couples who divorce because they are bored or irritated. The statement, "My needs aren't being met" may be legitimate but sometimes, the needs are so entirely unrealistic that nobody would ever be able to meet them.

My annoyance at easy break-ups being stated, the split between Humphrey and his ex on Death in Paradise is a good example of how incompatibility actually can lead to a marriage falling apart.

Humphrey Goodman moves to St. Marie, believing that his wife will follow. She doesn't. She requests a divorce instead. However, she shows up a few months later, having discovered--as anyone with sense could have told her--that simply declaring a marriage over doesn't automatically make life exciting and satisfying and fresh. Her world didn't become instantly magical, just because she shed the supposedly boring husband.

There's a fantastic scene at Catherine's bar where Humphrey orders a rum drink, then encourages his ex to also order one. She takes one sip, grimaces and sets it aside, requesting her usual gin & slim.

Humphrey then points out that with his move, he was trying to save their marriage--that's why he took the post to St. Marie in the first place. And it might have worked. It worked for Humphrey. He is fundamentally open to new experiences and the move expanded his horizons while shoring up his abilities as a leader. He absorbed it all, from classic mystery denouements ("That thing where you gather everyone together--I rather enjoyed that last time") to garish shirts to lizards to rum...

The point here is not that people have to like rum. In his unending search for decent tea, Poole never did.

The point is, the ex-wife wants both: she wants her unadventurous, yuppie, staid life back in England alongside FUN and ADVENTURE and CHANGE! This unlikely combination of needs is something Humphrey attempted to give her.

Except he no longer can. He has moved on--too far--while she didn't. He can't backtrack. He puts the gap between them down to individual growth (and to him being in love with Camille Bordey, though that is arguably a convenient emotional idea for him to hold onto). And the truth is, I rather think the ex-wife would have ended up bored in St. Marie. She carried her dissatisfaction with her. Nothing can cure that.

Trios are All the Rage

Speaking of Leverage...

Lately, more and more shows are presenting the trio rather than the duo, the set of three who take on the world together. Sometimes, a romance is involved or implied. However, since I despise romantic triangles, the four trios I chose here don't rely on the romantic triangle to keep the trio functioning. 

Leverage: Parker, Hardison, and Eliot form a unit, especially in the later seasons. In one episode, they solve the case without Nat and Sophie's help. Eliot becomes the de facto leader, but he is less Mastermind and more the guy who knows how to pull everyone together.  Their group is far more democratic than Nat's group, in part because Nat has trained them to go it alone. 

My Roommate is a Detective: Qiao, Lu Yao and Youning form a unit against the world. Qiao and Lu Yao are the linchpins, being the Watson and Holmes. However, I was quite touched that one of the later episodes heavily implies that circa World War II, Lu Yao will use his contacts to get Qiao, his best friend, and Youning, his wife, out before the Battle of Shanghai, the occupation by the Imperial Japanese Army, and what would shortly become Mao's China. They are functioning members of their social orders--city, family, police force, gang--but ultimately, they will save each other. 

Mysterious Ways: Declan, Peggy, and Miranda. I adore this show and was able to get the DVDs on eBay. It is Adrian Pasdar at his finest since it combines his Hallmark side with his Profit side. The guy can get dark! In some ways, it is X-Files lite, but it has its own vibe and mandate. The three form a believable friendship with no competition. 

Chihayafuru: Chihaya, Arata, and Taichi. I hesitated with Chihayafuru since an underlying romantic rivalry does partly define the relationship between Arata and Taichi, who both are drawn to Chihaya. However, ultimately, the rivalry--at least in Season 1--is a source of inspiration rather than contention. The three formed a bond that is unbreakable, whatever the ups and downs--and whether or not they literally compete against each other. The chivalry here is reminiscent of Coach's line: "We played great. They played better. That's the way the game is supposed to be."

A-Z Romance: Stalkers in Nora Roberts' Skin Deep

For "R" I read Nora Roberts, the novella Skin Deep. The plot is about a film celebrity being stalked and the ruggedly handsome guy who guards her. 

I'm a big believer that there are exceptions to every rule, so even though I dislike books about celebrities, and I don't care for books about people being stalked (women or men: I have never watched more than ten minutes of Cape Fear 1962 despite Gregory Peck), I thought I would give it a try. 

Lo and behold, the celebrity part and even the stalking part didn't bother me too much. I thought Roberts captured the day-to-day grind and professional attitude of actors on set. The stalking was less than satisfactory but frankly, it paled next to what did bug me. 

The hero behaves like a stalker. 

He wanders through the film star's home. He enters her bedroom. He demands that she do what he wants and go where he wants. And because he is so virile and handsome and angsty or whatever, she doesn't get creeped out. She argues, but oh my, even as she is arguing, she is swooning. 

The problem here is not (necessarily) the bold, demanding, slightly demented hero. At one point, he acknowledges that he is behaving rather like the stalker. And I've read books, including manga, where the bold, demanding, slightly demented hero was matched by the bold, demanding, wholly demented love interest. Hey, if it works for them...

The problem here is that I was supposed to ignore the female character's OWN ARGUMENTS. 

"Oh, how dare he! I can't stand that kind of pressure. I am so tired of feeling unnerved in my own home! But..."

The mistake here is a mistake that I think only Joss Whedon and Dorothy Sayers have ever directly acknowledged: a person can be overwhelmed physically and sensually. That doesn't mean they won't hate themselves when their brain catches up to the rest of them. 

Yes, even with sex (which is supposedly untouchable). 

So Angel sleeps with Darla and then goes, "Wow, that was SOOOO dumb." 

And in Dorothy Sayers, Wimsey, who has a reputation for being good in bed, refuses to use that particular tactic with Harriet. He tries everything else. He takes her on dates. He argues with her. He gets involved with the murder case she comes across. But he never uses physical pleasure to bind her. 

At one point, she acknowledges that if he had, she--weary from her trial; weary with herself--would have "gone up like straw." 

Wimsey would have got her in the short run. He would have lost her forever in the long-run. 

In truth, in fact, in reality, the film celebrity in Nora Roberts' novella should have fired the hero the moment he stepped into her bedroom without her permission. There was absolutely no reason for him to be there. It's unprofessional behavior. And having non-professionals guard one is the epitome of dumbness. And rather terrifying.

Intent does not excuse stalking--not once the brain catches up to a person's integrity.  

The Trope of Oops, No, I'm Waiting for Someone Else

This manga is a decent

version of the trope--still,

someone does feel rejected!  

The most common "royals" who appear in disguise in manga are animal gods or spirits who are temporarily behaving like mortals. 

Within that genre, there is a romance sub-genre in which an animal god or spirit met someone years earlier but ends up in a relationship with that someone's grandchild.

I have mixed feelings about this plot. I feel the same way as one of my brothers who remarked about Frozen: "What if Hans kissed Anna and was disappointed because he DID believe their relationship was one of true love?"

How are we the readers--and for that matter the characters--supposed to know that the fox spirit isn't still pining for the someone from years before? 

Usually, the solution is to suggest that the fox spirit was drawn to the family's genetics. The fox spirit was waiting for the descendant to come along.  

It still presupposes that the ancestor didn't get disappointed or feel rejected. That is, it presupposes fate. 

And I have mixed feelings about fate. In some ways, I think the solution is a decent one. Eros and Psyche. Belle and the Beast. It isn't about "mate selection." It's about people finding each other. 

On the other, these stories often want the characters to be SURPRISED, as in it's fate but nobody knows it is fate. In which case, what's the point of fate? 

I far prefer The (Weird) Director Who Buys Me Dinner, in which the one character knows the relationship is fate. He not only has to wait for the other character to catch up. He is ANNOYED that he has to wait for the other character to catch up. 

Now that is amusing.  

Productive Delinquent Relationships

A variation on the "rake" is the delinquent. Delinquent romances fall into two categories: the clean-cut lover + a delinquent; two delinquents together. 

Delinquents together is particularly charming. (In this case, I using "delinquent" in the "not good at school" sense.) 

In Family Ties, Nick and Mallory are impressively functional. Neither is good at school, and Nick dropped out before they met. However, like Kyle from Last Man Standing (see below), Nick encourages Mallory to attend college. Both Nick and Kyle are inherent gentleman who put another's welfare first. They are also both wise about life if not about books. 

In both cases, the drop-out is encouraged to complete a certain level of education. Mallory gets Alex to help Nick achieve his G.E.D., which in the 1980s was enough to move Nick up the socio-economic ladder. (Nowadays, Mallory would get Alex to get Nick to complete a trade certificate, and Nick would go on to make more money than everybody else in the family.) 

Speaking of changes in educational expectations, Kyle--who exhibits impressive and believable growth throughout the Last Man Standing series-- eventually commits to going to college because he wants to become a pastor and needs an education to serve in the places he wants to serve. Both he and Mandy acknowledge that getting a degree is going to be hard for him. He is not naturally academic, but he is exceptional with people and is willing to undergo the potential ordeal of getting through the necessary classes. 

As an English instructor, I admire the reality check here: education is hard; it isn't supposed to be easy, and it isn't unfair that it isn't easy. 

Nagisa from Nagahama to Be or Not to Be by Scarlet Beriko is a high school student who doesn't know what he wants to do with life. He gets good grades but ACTS like a delinquent who is about to give up. He gets upset, however, when Issa, his friend (and eventual boyfriend) does supposedly give up. Issa drops out because he knows that he wants to be a fisherman and he knows how to make it happen (by joining a deep sea fishery for six months). In this case, the supposed delinquent-but-not-really behavior becomes a wake-up call for Nagisa who goes on to discover what he truly cares about. 

The problem with any relationship is that one person can pull the other down. In the above cases, the couple buoy each other up; the relationships have the potential to last because they are productive. 

These delinquents don't want to simply sit around smoking weed and contemplating the nature of mooching. They are consequently more interesting. 

Mrs. Columbo: What Would She Be Like Really?

Repost from 2009: 

Since I posted about Columbo recently, here is a post about Mrs. Columbo. 

* * * 

In 1979, Kate Mulgrew (Captain Janeway for you Star Trek: Voyager fans) created the role of Mrs. Columbo on a show of the same name. The show lasted for two seasons.

Now, I admired Kate Mulgrew, and I think she makes a fine Captain Janeway, but as Mrs. Columbo . . . she just wasn't right.

Granted, Mrs. Columbo is something of a enigma. Columbo constantly makes references to his wife, but it is hard to know how many of his references are based on actual fact and how many are used to put his suspects at ease. Nevertheless, there are a few "real" encounters that give us an idea of Mrs. Columbo.

First, whenever Columbo calls, she is never home. Usually another member of the family answers the phone. Where is Mrs. Columbo? Out looking for flea market bargains or at a movie with one of her numerous family members. Apparently, Mrs. Columbo is a bit of a go-getter, an energetic ball of fire.

This impression is furthered when Mrs. Columbo and Columbo go on a cruise. She's always off to see a show or to see sites on the mainland. The cruise episode also gives us some insight into the marriage. When Columbo gets lost on the ship (lending support to the idea that Columbo is sometimes as scattered as he appears), he calls the room. "I don't know where the hell I am," he says bemusedly. His tone is neither that of the hen-pecked husband nor that of a blustering husband. It is the tone of one companion to another--Hey, you know what my weird life is like; help me out.

This easy-going tone gives credence to Columbo's claim that he discusses his cases with his wife, and she gives him insights and guidance. So Mrs. Columbo is not only a go-getter but a pretty sharp cookie.

Kate Mulgrew's Mrs. Columbo is a go-getter, but she's a Captain Janeway type of go-getter: very WASPy and goal-oriented. Columbo, on the other hand, creates a picture of his wife as less goal-oriented and more a thousand-irons-in-the-fire kind of woman. Less corporate, more bohemian. Less concentrated ambition, more holy-rolling "are we having fun yet" extrovert. She cooks, and she shops, and she makes pottery, and she likes movie stars and traveling and...

I personally picture her as a small (shorter than Columbo) Italian woman--kind of like Rhea Perlman.

I think Mrs. Columbo (1979) was a worthwhile concept, but it needed, well, Rhea Perlman to really pay it off. If it were to be done now, I would also tweak the concept a bit. Kate Mulgrew had Mrs. Columbo be a part-time working mother: a reporter with one daughter (the existence of other children is implied). Frankly, there have been enough shows about reporter-detectives and forensic-detectives and cop-detectives. It's time for the revival of Miss Marple--Italian mama style!

I would portray Mrs. Columbo as a tightly wound, very funny, little Italian housewife (which doesn't mean she's home all that much). She's always hauling her kids off places or running out to shop with her numerous siblings and every time she does, she encounters a crime! Mrs. King, only less spies and more murder.

It's time for the return of the domestic female detective!