This series intrigued me before the first episode, when NBC started advertising its fall shows in the summer of '66. The Friday line-up was Tarzan at 7:30, the 3rd (and campiest) season of the Man From U.N.C.L.E. at 8:30, oater The High Chapparal at 10; following U.N.C.L.E. was a new entry-T.H.E. Cat. The ad showed a black-clad man pitching a grappling hook and scaling a wall into action. The clip promised adventure "you can sink your teeth into."
The opener delivered. From the economical exposition of the priest's peril, through Cat's breathtaking demonstration of the padre's vulnerability and his own special skill, the powerful, jazzy theme, the conversation with cafe' owner Pepe which succinctly and cleverly recaps Cat's career, to the violent climax, I was hooked.
Cat appealed to this adolescent and many others--fearless, stealthy, acrobatic, independent, a bodyguard who saved lives, but who was capable of sudden violence against would-be killers. The noir mood, the Frisco setting, and the hero's curious code of ethics didn't hurt, either. I saw every episode, took to donning gloves and scaling buildings in emulation, and was shocked when the series was cancelled after one season.
Forty years later I could still remember Lalo Schifrin's cool theme, a cafe' motif, and the flute-and-bongo accompaniment to Cat's nocturnal climbs. When I saw the DVD offer, I got myself a birthday present. Some of the discs have an annoying skip; that aside, I was delighted to be reunited with this series after so long.
Many elements are ahead of their time--the hero who uses agility and cunning more than firepower, the flavor of exotic cultures, the nocturnal scenes and shadowy interiors, the jazz score. The music holds up very well; Schifrin's Latin sounds are timelessly hip, and I was pleasantly surprised to hear the chanteuse at Casa del Gato crooning a couple of Jobim classics in the series opener.
Happy 80th Birthday to Robert Loggia, and thanks for the memories.
The opener delivered. From the economical exposition of the priest's peril, through Cat's breathtaking demonstration of the padre's vulnerability and his own special skill, the powerful, jazzy theme, the conversation with cafe' owner Pepe which succinctly and cleverly recaps Cat's career, to the violent climax, I was hooked.
Cat appealed to this adolescent and many others--fearless, stealthy, acrobatic, independent, a bodyguard who saved lives, but who was capable of sudden violence against would-be killers. The noir mood, the Frisco setting, and the hero's curious code of ethics didn't hurt, either. I saw every episode, took to donning gloves and scaling buildings in emulation, and was shocked when the series was cancelled after one season.
Forty years later I could still remember Lalo Schifrin's cool theme, a cafe' motif, and the flute-and-bongo accompaniment to Cat's nocturnal climbs. When I saw the DVD offer, I got myself a birthday present. Some of the discs have an annoying skip; that aside, I was delighted to be reunited with this series after so long.
Many elements are ahead of their time--the hero who uses agility and cunning more than firepower, the flavor of exotic cultures, the nocturnal scenes and shadowy interiors, the jazz score. The music holds up very well; Schifrin's Latin sounds are timelessly hip, and I was pleasantly surprised to hear the chanteuse at Casa del Gato crooning a couple of Jobim classics in the series opener.
Happy 80th Birthday to Robert Loggia, and thanks for the memories.