Review of Probe

Probe (1972 TV Movie)
6/10
Hugh Lockwood, Agent of P.R.O.B.E.
18 December 2014
Warning: Spoilers
PROBE and its spin-off series SEARCH (1972-73) are among the legendary shows I used to hear spoken about reverently by the older sages at the comic book shop I frequented circa 1984. The many short-lived sci-fi and adventure series of the 1970s that came and went and were never shown in syndication had, I suspect, taken on the golden patina of nostalgia in the minds of men who watched them as kids. I remember thinking/fearing I would live and die without ever seeing these lost classics. But with DVD making available such one season wonders as LOGAN'S RUN, PLANET OF THE APES, and THE INVISIBLE MAN, one looks and sees exactly why they flailed and failed to gain an audience.

I haven't seen the series SEARCH, but I did just watch the TV movie PROBE and it reminded me of any of a dozen episodes of THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN, with Hugh O'Brian pinch hitting for fellow former Western star Lee Majors. And it wasn't just Ford Rainey's unbilled cameo that brought Steve Austin to mind. Hugh Lockwood's ear implant and all-seeing camera presaged the gimmicks that would mark both THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR and THE BIONIC WOMAN.

The settings are also standard issue 1970's adventure television, with endless shots of cars driving down long picturesque roads in exotic locales, fancy dinners with beautiful women in low-cut gowns while one of the bad guys sits and stares menacingly a few tables away, and the cliché fistfight in a wine cellar.

PROBE also hearkens back to the 1960s, with Probe Control resembling the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. Burgess Meredith is the unlikely stand-in for Captain Kirk, leading his conspicuously multicultural crew comprised of a black man, an Hispanic man, an Oriental man, and a wisecracking blonde woman who is crushing on Hugh and jealous of his carryings on with guest star Elke Sommer. In addition to STAR TREK, there's a nod to THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E. when Hugh Lockwood and Harold Streeter visit Probe Control and must first stop by a secretary's desk to receive their credentials before entering through the memorable even if gimmicky interlocking door that leads to the nerve center of World Securities Corporation's Probe division.

Despite glances backward, this show was very much grounded in the 1970s. Hugh Lockwood is a mercenary, not an idealist. His loyalty to World Securities is dependent on money and time off with all expenses paid. And World Securities seems to be a for-profit organization, specializing in recovery operations of missing valuables (like the Entourage Collection of diamonds in this pilot movie). There's a cynicism about Lockwood that I'm guessing was reflective of the mood towards spy and surveillance organizations like the CIA and FBI. In a different medium, that same disillusionment ruined the Marvel Comics character of Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD, who was an unabashed hero in the 1960s but who was denigrated under left-leaning writers in the 1970s into being a fascistic government lackey. I reject the comparisons of Hugh Lockwood to James Bond. Lockwood appears to be only in it for himself; whereas Bond was always eager primarily to serve queen and country.

The movie opens with Lockwood wrapping up a MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE-style caper in a Communist country, freeing a kidnapped diplomat while dodging machine-gun fire. His seemingly hard-earned vacation is interrupted by an "emergency": the pressing need to recover a collection of diamonds stolen by Nazis during WWII. It was never made clear why this was such a pressing emergency. Lockwood begrudgingly agrees to accept the assignment after bartering an extra week's vacation (all expenses paid, natch).

Tagging along is the august Sir John Gielgud, playing diamond expert Harold Streeter. There's some fun interplay between the suave and sophisticated Geilgud and the coarse and rough-hewn O'Brian, but overall Geilgud is wasted (in both meanings of the word: the man is drinking wine in virtually every scene). Elke Sommer is the poor man's Bond girl, providing eye candy and a red herring or two in her suspicion-arousing meetings with suspicious characters, like Alfred Ryder, a veteran character actor whose talents are utterly wasted here.

By the one-hour mark I was getting restless. The movie felt like a 50-minute teleplay padded out to feature length. For suspense the writers really scraped bottom. Lockwood hides his miniature camera/communicator in a napkin, which a waiter snatches up when clearing the table. As Lockwood frantically rummages through piles of dirty napkins, Probe Control is in a panic akin to a teenager without her cellphone. The moments tick by agonizingly until Lockwood finally locates it! Cut to a celebration in Probe Control rivaled only by NASA's at the moon landing. Amid the shouts of joy and relief, one guy even tosses his pen into the air. It was wince-worthy, but the nadir is hit when Lockwood slips his all-seeing camera into his pocket so he can smooch with Elke Sommer sans chaperons. Burgess Meredith as Cam is in a panic, trying to reestablish contact, failing to understand why the screen went dark. Suspecting a mechanical failure, he shouts, "Lockwood, are you turned on?!" Wink, wink, nudge, groan.

The denouement was clever, and unexpected. But that wasn't enough to save the movie from mediocrity. What did elevate PROBE and make it memorable was its delightfully addictive theme song, heard frequently throughout, and its opening title sequence, which is one of the best of the era.
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