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Cannon: Season 1, Episode 0Pilot (26 Mar. 1971)A private detective investigates the murder of his ex-girlfriend's husband and gets entangled in small-town corruption. Director:George McCowanWriter:Edward Hume (teleplay) |
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Title: Pilot (26 Mar 1971)
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Cast
| Episode cast overview, first billed only: | |||
| William Conrad | ... | ||
| J.D. Cannon | ... |
Lt. Kelly Redfield
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| Lynda Day George | ... |
Christie Redfield
(as Lynda Day)
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| Murray Hamilton | ... |
Virgil Holley
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| Earl Holliman | ... |
Magruder
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| Vera Miles | ... |
Diana Langston
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Barry Sullivan | ... |
Calhoun
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| Keenan Wynn | ... |
Eddie
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Lynne Marta | ... |
Trudy Hewett - girl at Holley's house
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| Norman Alden | ... |
Mitchell
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| Ellen Corby | ... |
Teacher
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| John Fiedler | ... |
Jake
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| Lawrence Pressman | ... |
Herb Mayer
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| Ross Hagen | ... |
Red Dunleavy
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Robert Sorrells | ... |
Tough in Blue Moon bar
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Storyline
A private detective investigates the murder of his ex-girlfriend's husband and gets entangled in small-town corruption.
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Details
Country:
USALanguage:
EnglishRelease Date:
26 March 1971 (USA) See more »Company Credits
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Technical Specs
Runtime:
Sound Mix:
Mono (Westrex Recording System)Color:
ColorAspect Ratio:
1.33 : 1
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Frank Cannon: Herb, you're my lawyer, my confessor, and you're beautiful. But five months ago, I bought myself a new car and I haven't had a chance to drive it around the block.
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Did You Know?
Trivia
Frank Cannon's apartment has a maid, an exercise cycle, and an indoor shooting range. See more »Quotes
Herb Mayer: Frank, you can't just tear off the minute you get back.Frank Cannon: Herb, you're my lawyer, my confessor, and you're beautiful. But five months ago, I bought myself a new car and I haven't had a chance to drive it around the block.
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How ever did Frank Cannon manage to routinely catch assorted fleet-footed and well-motivated bad lads simply by lumbering painfully around his classic piece of early 70's, swimming pool-sized, rocking-suspensioned, Detroit iron lump? Especially with his red-faced wheezing, puffing signs of imminent cardiac disaster at the mere effort of just squeezing himself out of the door.
Then, without further pursuit (since Direction must have this week's villain keep running on the spot until our porcine pursuer catches up from around the other side the of car hood) immediately disable them with one blow on some random anatomical feature (such as a shoulder blade, say, or that well-known vulnerable bit on the top of the arm) from his flailing hammy forearm?
I'll never know. But there you go. It passed the time til Jim Rockford showed up. And it was A! Quinn! Martin! Production!