Simon Templar returns with a moustache, a black Lamborghini and an Australian accent. Andrew Clarke's portrayal lacks the flippancy of his haloed predecessors, but this 1987 pilot for a proposed series of The Saint makes up for it with sumptuous production design, beautiful Manhattan locations and a strong supporting cast.
It even has an early appearance of Liliana Komorowska as ballerina Margot, while Caitlin Clarke shows she is as believable an actress on screen as on stage. However, Kevin Tighe, as Insp John Fernack (another Leslie Charteris creation), lacks the curious appearance or eternal frustration of Ivor Dean as his counterpart at Scotland Yard, Chief Insp Claude Eustace Teal.
Financed by Don Taffner, the man who brought Benny Hill to America and imported Man about the House and turned it into Three's Company, the most British thing about this production is George Rose's portrayal of Templar's valet, Woods. Rose gives this episode a polish and class that it needed, while Clarke looks uncomfortable playing an English-raised cad.
Clarke is not be to blame alone, not even his Australian accent. He may be closer to the idea of Charteris' Saint than George Sanders or Val Kilmer, even if he suffered from inevitable comparison with his predecessors. The Americanized script was competent but bland, though no worse than the contemporary Murder, She Wrote.
What really sealed the fate of 1987's The Saint was that it was out of step with the post-stock market-crash world. This was the era when Pam woke up on Dallas and when Dynasty producers tried to give their soap a more "gritty" edge - because the "elaborately rich" concept had run its course. Some might argue it ran its course when Burke's Law finished.
It's easy to be wise with hindsight - and Taffner could not have predicted the demise of the concept when he signed the cheques. However, it was hard to see this lasting more than a season anyway, so maybe it's just as well this entry in the adventures of Charteris' buccaneer remains a one-shot.
It even has an early appearance of Liliana Komorowska as ballerina Margot, while Caitlin Clarke shows she is as believable an actress on screen as on stage. However, Kevin Tighe, as Insp John Fernack (another Leslie Charteris creation), lacks the curious appearance or eternal frustration of Ivor Dean as his counterpart at Scotland Yard, Chief Insp Claude Eustace Teal.
Financed by Don Taffner, the man who brought Benny Hill to America and imported Man about the House and turned it into Three's Company, the most British thing about this production is George Rose's portrayal of Templar's valet, Woods. Rose gives this episode a polish and class that it needed, while Clarke looks uncomfortable playing an English-raised cad.
Clarke is not be to blame alone, not even his Australian accent. He may be closer to the idea of Charteris' Saint than George Sanders or Val Kilmer, even if he suffered from inevitable comparison with his predecessors. The Americanized script was competent but bland, though no worse than the contemporary Murder, She Wrote.
What really sealed the fate of 1987's The Saint was that it was out of step with the post-stock market-crash world. This was the era when Pam woke up on Dallas and when Dynasty producers tried to give their soap a more "gritty" edge - because the "elaborately rich" concept had run its course. Some might argue it ran its course when Burke's Law finished.
It's easy to be wise with hindsight - and Taffner could not have predicted the demise of the concept when he signed the cheques. However, it was hard to see this lasting more than a season anyway, so maybe it's just as well this entry in the adventures of Charteris' buccaneer remains a one-shot.
