A couple of nights ago, a couple of mates and I were reminiscing about the great American TV shows, the sitcoms and the thrillers, of the Sixties. The Man from U.N.C.L.E. came up – of course The Man from U.N.C.L.E. came up, how could it not? Steve mentioned that the recent film remake was rubbish, and we all agreed that you can’t remake such things. They were of their time: the people, the actors, the atmosphere. You can’t recreate that, not now.
And two days later, Robert Vaughn is gone, Napoleon Solo as was, slick as all get out. He’s opened Channel D for the last time, and is no longer there to remind us of just how much fun, how good a formula network show feeding off the spy bug could actually be.
They repeated The Man from U.N.C.L.E. in the Nineties, I think it was, Friday night, BBC2, perfect for getting in from work, and it was still bloody good fun. Thanks to Robert, and David McCallum, and long-gone Leo G. Carroll.
They can’t make them like that any more.