Murder by the Book

A terrific start to the series, and I'm not just saying this because of its director: he'd have done a great job on this even if his name was Joe Nobody. Spielberg's cool, clipped way of creating an air of menace, through constant anticipations (not for nothing does the opening panning shot include a skull on Ferris' table) in the opening sequences should be required viewing at film schools. He still permits the classic character conflict to evolve in the later, less firmly paced stages: even inserting a signature (reflected in E.T. and CLOSE ENCOUNTERS) of officials loudly creating fuss and sidelining the vulnerable, in the scene at the Ferris home just before Columbo appears. Jack Cassidy, unfairly only really remembered today as the father of teen idol David, is on splendid, autocratically smarmy form here, as a mystery writer who can't write, but knows how to play the media. His staring eyes and coldly composed face as he points the gun at the camera, for the second time, are unforgettable. As ever, Falk charms in his down-to-earth manner, complaining of the cold - "there's no lining on this coat" - and helping out the distressed Mrs. Ferris in the kitchen. (A shame that Rosemary Forsyth is saddled with a line like, "I know Ken, he's not a murderer", though.) The music, more than slightly reminiscent of Bernard Herrmann's score for PSYCHO, is another eerie advantage. All in all, a shame that Falk's plan to get Spielberg to direct COLUMBO's return to TV, in 1989, came to nothing........