When a mysterious murder takes place at the meeting-house of a social club of geniuses, Columbo must lock wits with the most intelligent killer of his career.
This is one of my very favourite Columbo TV-thrillers (probably only surpassed by the 1978 story Murder Under Glass). Robert Malcolm Young's script is just sensational. The details of the killing are fascinating, the characters are wacky and off-the-wall, there are oodles of amusing moments, and the spooky final confrontation leading to a goaded admission of guilt is a masterstroke. I particularly enjoy the way Bikel is harried almost from the moment the investigation starts; frantically trying to get rid of the incriminating soot on his forehead, the agonising scene in the park when he tries to dispose of the gun, his backstabbing underlings and gold-digging wife - he becomes like the lunatic narrator of Edgar Allan Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart who has to confess, if only to make the torment stop. The cast are likable, though not distinguished, but there are so many good moments, like the penny-scale puzzle and Columbo's rare philosophical soliloquy - "You know Sir, it's a funny thing. All my life I kept running into smart people. I don't just mean smart like you and the people in this house. You know what I mean. In school, there were lots of smarter kids. And when I first joined the force Sir, they had some very clever people there. And I could tell right away that it wasn't gonna be easy making detective as long as they were around. But I figured, if I worked harder than they did, put in more time, read the books, kept my eyes open, maybe I could make it happen. And I did. And I really love my work, Sir.". The best bit of all is the doughnut gag, featuring a priceless bit-part by a then-unknown Jamie Lee Curtis as a put-upon waitress. A little TV diamond.
This is one of my very favourite Columbo TV-thrillers (probably only surpassed by the 1978 story Murder Under Glass). Robert Malcolm Young's script is just sensational. The details of the killing are fascinating, the characters are wacky and off-the-wall, there are oodles of amusing moments, and the spooky final confrontation leading to a goaded admission of guilt is a masterstroke. I particularly enjoy the way Bikel is harried almost from the moment the investigation starts; frantically trying to get rid of the incriminating soot on his forehead, the agonising scene in the park when he tries to dispose of the gun, his backstabbing underlings and gold-digging wife - he becomes like the lunatic narrator of Edgar Allan Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart who has to confess, if only to make the torment stop. The cast are likable, though not distinguished, but there are so many good moments, like the penny-scale puzzle and Columbo's rare philosophical soliloquy - "You know Sir, it's a funny thing. All my life I kept running into smart people. I don't just mean smart like you and the people in this house. You know what I mean. In school, there were lots of smarter kids. And when I first joined the force Sir, they had some very clever people there. And I could tell right away that it wasn't gonna be easy making detective as long as they were around. But I figured, if I worked harder than they did, put in more time, read the books, kept my eyes open, maybe I could make it happen. And I did. And I really love my work, Sir.". The best bit of all is the doughnut gag, featuring a priceless bit-part by a then-unknown Jamie Lee Curtis as a put-upon waitress. A little TV diamond.