Television has always had a love/hate relationship with comic books. They want to make money off of the tie-in with a product that has a built-in audience, but after the campy antics of the 1966 "Batman" show, they just never really liked the idea of having superhero stuff in their superhero shows. "The Incredible Hulk" (1978) was a mesmerizing show to kids of the '70s, but looking back on it now, it's mostly Bruce Banner trying to cope with life and running from town to town trying to escape his alternate persona. The Hulk makes an appearance once per episode to get Banner out of a jam - such as the threat of some swingers trying to take advantage of a drunken Mariette Hartley (who is quite literally asking for it) in "The Bride of the Incredible Hulk" (1978), but it's not really about Hulk. The failed 1978 pilot for a "Doctor Strange" series went so far as to pretty much dump everything from the comic books except for the fact that Strange is a doctor (though not a surgeon) and occasionally dresses up in an outfit so cheap that he would be laughed out of Comicon.
Filching an idea from the instant classic comic "The Watchmen" (1986), the pilot kicks off with the death of the hero. Jason Carr (Stewart Granger), the wealthy, eccentric owner of The Los Angeles Post, is secretly a nocturnal crimefighter by the name of The Paraclete of Justice. When presumably not taking naps and medication, Carr rides around town in a motorcycle sidecar with his sidekick Ryan, aka Captain Chamelon (Marcus Gilbert). His arch nemesis is a super-secret organization of evil, known as The Inner Circle, who have enlisted the help of a Hollywood madam to slip him a toxic injection after being captured by corrupt police officers.
Shelly: "He died of a heart attack."
Ryan: "No. He died in bed with some sleazy hooker!"
Shelly: "He died in bed with some sleazy hooker?!"
Ryan: "That's what the authorities think, but I don't believe it because he was with me!"
Shelly: "My grandfather was in bed with you? That's even more disgusting!"
I'm guessing you may have noticed that this is in fact a comedy superhero show, much like "The Greatest American Hero" (1983), except with fewer smashed windows. Adding to Shelly's cheerful misery is the sleazy managing editor of the paper Philip (Richard Burgi), who is desperately trying to take over the empire, even if that means cheating on his conniving girlfriend. Quickly Shelly discovers that grandfather had a superhero cave with a prototype computerized car named... wait for it... Car-meleon (named so because one of its functions is to change its color at the press of a button). At this point she decides that something must be done about the evil organization, but only if she is in charge. Erm, hijinx ensue.
Crystal Bernard may be best remembered, at least by me, for SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE II (1987), is surprisingly likable as a slightly ditzy, rich girl and she delivers her snappy dialogue with great timing and could have easily carried the show. On the other hand, we have Marcus Gilbert who is so completely leaden that he frequently looks as if he stumbled on to the set off the street and is trying to figure out what this "acting" thing is off the cuff. Occasionally it seems as if he could be replaced with a cardboard cut-out and no one would be the wiser. At least until he attempted to speak a line - of which he fortunately has few.
Aside from Gilbert's egregious affront to bad TV actors everywhere, the pilot is a lot of fun. You could criticize the Car-meleon as being a K.I.T.T. knock-off that looks far too much like a modified '89 Ford Taurus station wagon, but it's presented more as a satire than Larson carbon copying his biggest hit. In one scene where all of our heroes are packed into Car-meleon and are being assaulted by machine gun fire, they attempt to activate the defense systems which can only be accessed by answering a detailed questionnaire about the details of the situation. This is funny in and of itself, but it also does a nice job sending up the cliche that Larson popularized. In this day and age of oppressively melodramatic comic book films that insist on playing out with more pathos than a Greek tragedy, some goofy superhero satire is a nice way to wipe away the tears after discovering that Batman has gone off his Prozac... again.
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