Mr. Lucky, whose first name we never learn, was a gambler. We first meet him and his compadre Andamo (who also has but the one name) on an unnamed central American island where they flee authorities after a failed revolution. Returning to America, they set up shop as a casino on a yacht in international waters near an unnamed American city. After several episodes, they convert their operation to a high-end restaurant. (The series sponsor didn\u2019t like the unsavory gaming aspect.) Lucky and Andamo characterize themselves as partners, but Lucky is clearly in charge: he makes the conversion without even telling Andamo about it until it is a fait accompli.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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<\/figure>Lucky was played by John Vivyan, who was unknown to me. I felt his visage was familiar, though, in an odd sort of way. I kept thinking I\u2019d seen him in cartoon form, perhaps, with his long face, strong jaw, and prominent dimple. Not quite Dudley Do-Right, but in the same mold.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n
His compadre (a term I repeat, because they used it for each other every episode) was played by Ross Martin, best known to me as Artemus Gordon, James West\u2019s sidekick on The Wild Wild West<\/em>. And by that, let me be clear that I refer to the quite enjoyable 1960\u2019s television series rather than the abominable Will Smith movie. Andamo provides most of the comic relief. He has a slight, unspecified, south-of-the-border accent, wears frilly shirts, and chases (but seldom catches) women.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Typical banter between the two, in addition to calling each other \u201ccompadre\u201d, includes quoting odds. \u201cThree will get you five it\u2019s a trap!\u201d or \u201cTen to one he doesn\u2019t have the money.\u201d One of my favorites that shows up every few episodes is \u201cThat\u2019s it, and that\u2019s all!\u201d Sometimes one of them says the whole thing, but often they split it, one saying \u201cThat\u2019s it\u201d and the other finishing. \u201cThat\u2019s It And That\u2019s All\u201d is also the last tune on the soundtrack album.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Plotwise, Mr. Lucky<\/em> mines very much the same vein as Peter Gunn<\/em>. Gunn was a private detective for hire to anybody with the dough. Like Gunn<\/em>, Lucky<\/em> mostly takes place at night, but the noir elements are not as strong here. Lucky and Andamo don\u2019t engage in their escapades as part of their careers. Trouble generally comes looking for them. Their yacht is used to smuggle aliens, or is hijacked, or they find a stowaway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Peter Gunn had an ally on the police force. Lt. Jacoby was a pal, even if their dialog didn\u2019t always sound like it. They sometimes took vacations together. On Mr. Lucky<\/em>, the police were represented by Lt. Rovacs. He was played by Tom Brown, who, in spite of his long filmography, was unknown to me. It\u2019s more of an adversarial relationship. Lucky is honest with him, but not always cooperative.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lucky and Andamo are confirmed bachelors. Pippa Scott appears in about a quarter of the episodes as Maggie, Lucky\u2019s girlfriend, if that\u2019s not too strong a term for it. These are mostly early episodes, and unlike Pete Gunn, Lucky plays the field a bit. But sex and romance are not much present in the series.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In spite of Mancini\u2019s contributions, music is not as important in Mr. Lucky as it was in Peter Gunn. The cold opens follow the same format: they all feature the same drumbeat with different instrumentation and tune for each show. When the yacht was a casino there was no live band, while one shows up occasionally in the restaurant. But I\u2019m pretty sure the only tune this band plays is the main theme. The part of the main theme we hear over the opening credits doesn\u2019t thrill me, but I find the longer version on the soundtrack more appealing. Oh, and Lucky\u2019s pocket watch plays the first few notes of it when it is opened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Given that both series were created and produced by Blake Edwards and made in the same studio, the similarities don\u2019t end with plot and music. Many of the episodes were directed by Boris Sagal, Alan Crosland Jr, and Lamont Johnson, who did most of the work in Peter Gunn<\/em>. Gene Coon, best remembered for his work on the original Star Trek<\/em> series, wrote only one Gunn episode but was responsible for more than a quarter of Lucky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And, as the two series used the same studio, it\u2019s natural that we\u2019d see some of the same sets. In The Brain Picker<\/em>, they had a fist fight in what looks very much like Pete\u2019s apartment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Guest stars in Lucky were quite a bit more familiar to me. This surprised me, as they were produced at the same time, I\u2019d have expected to see the same guests on both series. Later in the decade, both Star Trek<\/em> and Mission: Impossible<\/em> were produced by the same studio (Desilu). It was quite common to see guest stars show up in both shows at pretty much the same time. Gavin McLeod shows up twice in Mr. Lucky<\/em>. One episode had Jack Nicholson and Richard Chamberlain. It was the first time they worked together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I can\u2019t resist commenting on the cars. As one might expect, automobiles aren\u2019t as common in this series, given that much of the action takes place on a yacht. But when Lucky and Andamo do go ashore, they go in style. Early episodes feature a gorgeous 1960 Imperial Crown 2 door convertible. The steering wheel is similar to that in Peter Gunn\u2019s Fury (that is, not quite round). The Imperial is propelled by a 413 cid v-8 pumping out 350 horsepower and driven by a 3 speed automatic transmission. Only 618 were made. Today they\u2019re going for well in excess of $100k.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Perhaps the restaurant wasn\u2019t as lucrative as the casino. In later episodes, the Imperial is replaced by a Chrysler New Yorker. I suspect that this car was the same car we saw many of Peter Gunn\u2019s villains driving. It, too, is a convertible. In these days before seatbelts, they tried all sorts of gimmicks. In the New Yorker, the seats swiveled a bit towards the door to make egress easier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mr. Lucky<\/em> is somewhat less violent than Peter Gunn<\/em>. Fistfights are still a staple, and it\u2019s not uncommon for a bad guy to get gunned down, but the body count is considerably less here. In Gunn, it was fairly normal to see several people (men, always men) get gunned down in a gun battle. In Lucky, a good number of episodes were death-free, and it was unusual for more than one man to die. In 1960, television was quite violent but never gory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Overall, I think I preferred Mr. Lucky<\/em> over Peter Gunn<\/em>. Perhaps that\u2019s because, with a shorter run, there were fewer weak episodes.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" In my misspent youth, Mr. Lucky’s was a disco in Glendale, a small Denver suburb notorious for its bars and nightclubs. Disco probably isn’t the right term. It featured live music on two floors, often rock on one floor and … Continue reading ![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/grunschev.com\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/Lucky-Imperial.jpg?resize=500%2C333\")