CONFIDENTIAL HUMAN RELATIONS
Roger Smith starred in Rogue's Gallery, a 1968 snoozer of a flick, as John Rogue, a struggling Los Angeles private eye who's hired by a therapist to keep an eye on a suicidal patient, Valerie York, who just happens to be the fiancée of a friend of Rogue's who had died in a skydiving accident.
Although intended for theatrical release, the slick, late 60s film has a vaguely made-for-TV vibe to it. Perhaps it was the overly familiar Los Angeles setting or Smith's years as Jeff Spencer on 77 Sunset Strip, but even more so was the deliberate but unexplained quirkiness of the character which played out exactly the way so many television pilots do: as a means to quickly establishing a character and theoretically endearing him to a potential audience more than anything.
Because Rogue is not just struggling; he's taken to sleeping on the couch in his one-room office, stowing his bedclothes in his empty filing cabinet drawers, mooching cigarettes and avoiding bill collectors. He hasn't paid his long-suffering secretary Maggie for over a month, he's hocked his gun and his vehicle is a rusty (in LA?) convertible with a trunk that's kept closed with a rope. It looks more like a clown car than anything. The "Rogue's gallery" is a collection of snapshots of former clients tacked onto the inside of a closet door to remind him of his "greatest cases."
Maybe he did have some great cases; but it wasn't this one. It's a non-sensical deriviative mess we've seen a zillion times before (and since), and it's not even done particularly well. There's a mysterious club with a secret agenda, car chases (including one that ends when Rogue's beat runs out of gas), our hero gets slugged, a dead body pops up, a shootout or two, a few brawls and a "surprise" twist at the end that even Longstreet could have seen from the opening credits.
Perhaps that's why it was never released, only eventually appearing -- not in theatres but on television -- on NBC in 1972. It's not even that it's particularly bad -- it's just that it's not particularly good.
And by then, it already seemed helplessly dated, a low-budget Mannix with a pile of TV-ready quirks only solid writing and someone like James Garner could pull off -- and actually would to great success in another year or so as Jim Rockford.
He may have been affable and handsome enough, in a bland sort of way, but let's face it: Roger Smith, alas, was not James Garner.
Report respectfully submitted by Kevin Burton Smith.
| Home | Detectives A-L M-Z | Film | Radio | Television | Web Comics | Comics | FAQs |
Drop a dime. Your comments, suggestions, corrections and contributions are always welcome.