Author Michael Arlen introduced his literary sleuthing creation The Falcon in a 1940 short story entitled Gay Falcon—and I’m sure I don’t have to explain that the story’s title refers to his name and not his sexual preference. His full name was Gay Stanhope Falcon (just the sort of moniker you want to give your kid to ensure his life is well-met with high school bullies in pursuit of lunch money), but by the time he became a player on radio, television and the silver screen all that remained was his nickname, "The Falcon". (I’m not sure why…it’s not like he had a secret superhero identity or dressed as one.) Apparently, for reasons unknown, the mere mention of “The Falcon” was, to paraphrase another detective from Radio’s Golden Age, enough to halt the evil that lurks in the hearts of men.

In fact, it was motion pictures that saw the first of the detective’s name changes; beginning when RKO adapted Arlen’s story into a B-picture in 1941 called The Gay Falcon. The character’s name was rechristened as Gay Lawrence, though you probably could have gotten away with calling him Simon Templar; the star of the Falcon series was George Sanders, who played the character in the same identical fashion as Leslie Charteris’ creation, The Saint. (Apparently the Falcon movie series was instigated because Charteris and RKO were at loggerheads regarding the royalties due the author for the use of the Templar character.) Between 1941 and 1946, a total of thirteen Falcon movies were produced—breezy, entertaining B-films which were often used as launching pads by future director greats like Edward Dmytryk (The Falcon Strikes Back) and Joseph H. Lewis (The Falcon in San Francisco). Two movies in this series are particularly noteworthy: 1942’s The Falcon Takes Over, which predates 1944’s Murder, My Sweet by using Raymond Chandler’s Farewell, My Lovely as its source material; and The Falcon’s Brother (1942), a film that serves as George Sanders’ swan song from the series. Sanders, as Gay Lawrence, snuffs it in the last reel and the role of the Falcon is taken over by his brother, Tom Lawrence—played by Sanders’ real-life brother, Tom Conway. (Sanders had his character depart dying because he was bored with the Falcon series...talk about eerie foreshadowing...)

April 10, 1943 saw the debut of The Adventures of the Falcon on network radio over NBC Blue for a brief series that ended in December of that year. The character underwent his third and final name change as Michael Waring, a freelance gumshoe first played by Berry Kroeger. The show then resurfaced over Mutual on July 3, 1945, staying until June 18, 1950—it then moved to NBC in the fall for a two-year stint before coming home to Mutual in January 1953, where it finished its long radio run on November 29, 1954. Actor James Meighan took over the role of Waring from Kroeger beginning with the Mutual debut of 1945; he was then replaced by Les Tremayne from 1948-51, and the series ended with Les Damon and George Petrie in the part.

Apart from having a keen bird nickname, there wasn’t anything particularly distinctive about Michael Waring. He shared a knack for spotting the fine details with fellow sleuth Ellery Queen, did not suffer law enforcement gladly like Richard Diamond, and definitely had a keen eye for a shapely leg a la Michael Shayne. Often Waring would be accompanied on cases by his girlfriend Nancy (played by Joan Alexander), who had no last name to speak of. Later on in the series’ run, Waring worked for Army Intelligence (let the oxymoron jokes commence!), and tangled with espionage agents, saboteurs and other foreign baddies. (I suppose when you find yourself in a job that offers nothing but the opportunity to crack wise to cops you’re due for a little career advancement.) If there’s anything remotely memorable about The Falcon, it would probably be the sponsorship of Gem Razor Blades from 1945-47, in which a classic commercial would start with the announcer intoning against a clock ticking and tolling: Avoid (chime) …five (chime) …o’clock (chime) …shadow (chime)! Use Gem Blades! Use Gem Blades! Use Gem Blades!

The Adventures of the Falcon was based and produced in New York, which allowed the crème de la crème of its radio talent to frequently perform on the program; among the actors heard in support: Mandel Kramer (as Sgt. Johnny Gleason), Ken Lynch (Sgt. Corbett), Joan Banks, Robert Dryden, Elspeth Eric, John Gibson and Everett Sloane. I checked out a pair of Falcon episodes last night at work, starting with “The Case of the Careless Client” (10/15/50), in which a woman named Eve Lowery hires our man Waring after allegedly being threatened by a hood named Caesar Juliano. When Juliano is later discovered taking “the big sleep,” Waring finds himself accused of the murder.

In the second show, “The Case of the Double Nephews” (10/22/50), a disgruntled jewelry store employee swipes $250,000 in bling-bling after discovering he won’t be replacing his departing supervisor. Yes, you heard that right—I have to say though, it's true that both of these shows are pretty standard stuff, but I enjoyed “Double Nephews” because the villains of the piece are so pathetic and in-over-their-heads it’s almost noir-ish. The employee, Tom Lacey, not only commits a boneheaded crime (he’s the likely suspect, seeing as how he locks up the safe in the jewelry store) but he also kills the new supervisor—and then goaded by his conniving bitch of a wife, tries to set up his departing boss for the jewelry theft. They remind me of people who’d turn up on a Barnaby Jones repeat, a nice, middle-class husband and wife who commit a depraved act in a temporary mindset of idiocy, and then commit blunder after blunder as the noose tightens around their necks. (I use this analogy because I wish to dispel a myth about this TV series; contrary to people’s memories, Barnaby Jones was not a good-old-fashioned, folksy crime drama—no dount discerned due to the participation of friendly Buddy Ebsen—but a fascinating study into the evil minds of some really twisted people.)

If you go into The Adventures of the Falcon knowing that it’s no great shakes (we’re definitely not talking Dragnet or Sam Spade here) but just mindless fun, I think you’ll enjoy it as much as I did. There are approximately 87 episodes extant for modern OTR fans today, with a heavy concentration in the 1950-54 run. And of course, in the tradition of so many other radio shows before and after it, The Falcon even had a brief fling at television—with Charles McGraw (one of my film noir heroes!) playing Mike Waring on a syndicated series in 1955.
11:58:56 AM    comment []  trackback []