arl Kolchak (McGavin) is in the middle of his way back down. A former alum of the most distinguished papers of New York, Boston and Chicago, Kolchak efficiently and evenly alienated both municipal bureaucracies and editors alike. He's good, but he's a maverick, and he's a loud, annoying maverick. But if Kolchak's cocky (which is like saying soap tastes bad), he's cocky because he knows he's that good, and entitled to it. Currently Kolchak's on the Las Vegas beat, looking for the big story that will get him back to the big papers.
When dead women start stacking up in alleyways like poker chips, Kolchak thinks he's got his story. The victims are all mysteriously drained of blood, and whatever's going on, the police are talking about it less than the dead themselves. Next, when blood banks start getting knocked over like mini-marts, Kolchak's reporter instincts drive him to a seemingly untenable conclusion--the killer is a vampire. Kolchak immediately brings this news to the police, along with a cross, a mallet and a stake.
At first unwilling to listen to this arch-prince of annoyance, the police become willing to take a more unorthodox approach to the case after a series of run-ins with a likely suspect. Their man unnervingly flings officers around like tickertape at a parade and is able to sustain point-blank gunfire without injury. The police reluctantly agree to work with Kolchak, but the deal is this--their way, by the book, apprehend the suspect and bring him to trial. By the book is not easy for Kolchak under normal circumstances, but in this case it's next to impossible because he knows the vampire won't be stopped by conventional means. The killer and Kolchak are well matched, though, for Kolchak's means aren't conventional either.
Not an action hero, but a hero of his actions
The Night Stalker, which spawned a wonderful albeit short-lived TV series of the same name (in which Kolchak tracked everything from giant lizards to aliens), is low-budget and of humble ambition, yet it can well lay claim to the leafiest laurels of success. (X-Files creator Chris Carter thought so; his series was inspired by it.) Producer Dan Curtis (Dark Shadows) and the brilliant Darren McGavin work the heck out of the film's fanciful concept. Kolchak is unique--seemingly of the ilk of the common man, yet superior to him in wit and out-of-the-box thinking. He's a hero in a bad suit, an unfashionable hat and white shoes, endowed with whip-smarts and qualified to travel at the highest levels of his profession, yet he walks in the shadows of society's fringe.
The production is well plotted and excellently cast, and the accompanying musical score is undeniably a little '70s but a lot effective. The rat-a-tat narrative, as spoken in Kolchak's ratchet voice, coolly conveys his reporting style. There are some faults with this piece, though. Kolchak's romantic relationship with a casino worker doesn't gel; his character is such the lone gunman that their relationship, not very believable to begin with, gets downright uncredible when he starts discussing marriage. In fact, whenever the drama has Kolchak interacting with someone who is supposed to be a friend (like his Fed buddy) rather than a source or antagonist, the mood fizzles. Kolchak is not a relationship guy.
Reporters as physically heroic characters frequently get less credibility than they do in real life, but The Night Stalker was fomented in the era of Woodward and Bernstein. Although Kolchak's greatest and most favored weapons are his wits and his words, he doesn't shrink from physical force, which refreshingly does not render him an action hero, but rather a hero of his actions. Still, Kolchak has faults, makes mistakes of tact and scrambles for mastery of his motor skills, and is more believable for all of it. His palpable realness makes the idea of monsters more real. Curtis and McGavin believe in their character and his mission--justifiably, unabashedly. And so will viewers.
