10/04/04’s illustrious band:

Remington Steele

Brought to you by a schoolgirl crush.

I was in eighth grade when Remington Steele premiered on NBC in 1982. Remember it? Enterprising young Laura Holt starts a private detective agency but soon discovers that no one wants to hire a lady PI. So she invents a fictional boss, Mr. Steele, and renames her business after him. When clients ask to speak to or meet with Mr. Steele, he’s always conveniently out of town, but his associate Laura is on hand to help. Once people think a man is in charge, the agency thrives.

Then one day a mysterious Englishman stumbles into one of Laura’s cases, trying to steal some valuables Remington Steele Investigations has been hired to protect. A con artist himself, he soon realizes the scam Laura is pulling and sees a way to get a piece of the action: He’ll put a handsome face and suave accent on the fictional Mr. Steele, wear Mr. Steele’s fine suits and drive his nice cars, and keep his mouth shut in return. Laura has little choice; the stranger shows up on the scene and starts introducing himself as Steele before she has a chance to negotiate with him, and she can’t out him without revealing her own deception. It’s an uneasy alliance, but business is booming with a “real” Steele at the helm. Besides, he’s so darned charming! And did I mention the accent?

That series SO would not fly today!

I’ll tell you right now, I loved Remington Steele, both the series and the man, played by Agent 007 himself, Pierce Brosnan. I considered Laura Holt, played by Stephanie Zimbalist, a necessary evil, as she stole screen time from my viewing and hearing of the divine Mr. Steele. (Key comment from Dad: “She walks funny.”)

I loved the idea of the mysterious stranger with the sexy accent, the intriguing mysteries, the witty repartee. (Producer Glen Caron left Steele after its first season and went on to create another 80s favorite, Moonlighting, which starred Bruce Willis in what I still think of as his finest role. But more on that at a later date.) Dapper Mr. Steele always dressed to the nines in tailored suits that included a pocket handkerchief, so I made sure I -- and any other viewers in the family -- had a hankie on hand for every episode. My devotion was complete . . . until the social concerns of high school edged him out of the spotlight of my attention. I don’t think I ever even saw the series finale, which aired in 1987, when I was busy with prom and graduation and preparing for college and things like that.

Now I’ve spent the intervening 17 years as a girl power-boosting feminist, I look back on Steele and cringe. I cringe hard. The whole series is based on the idea that women aren’t good enough, but once a big strong man steps in to take charge, everything is fine. (I also cringe at the continued employment of actress Doris Roberts, who played devoted secretary Mildred Krebs with the same nails-on-a-chalkboard charm she brings to her role as Everybody Loves Raymond’s Ma. But again, I digress.) She does all the work, he gets all the glory, and we’re supposed to laugh at how true some stereotypes really are. How insulting! It’s almost as bad as The Apprentice.

If I were Laura Holt and some guy with no name started hanging around my office touching my stuff, I’d sure as heck use my PI training to collect a nice set of fingerprints, maybe a DNA sample, and run them through a criminal database or two. If I couldn’t get proof of identity dating back to before birth, his limey ass would be back out on the street pronto, with my size 6.5 footprint square in the middle of it. I mean, come on! That’s Day One stuff.

And can you even imagine trying to pull off the fictional boss thing in this day and age? If I were considering hiring Remington Steele Investigations, I’d spend a few minutes Googling the firm on the Internet first. As a client, I certainly wouldn’t think twice about hiring a woman detective to solve my problems. Heck, I grew up reading Nancy Drew stories; I’d prefer a woman. But an invisible man with no track record? No dice. And if I later found out I’d been defrauded, we’d all have a hot date with Judge Judy post haste.

None of which means I didn’t check to see if Netflix has Remington Steele available on DVD, because I’d like to watch the series again from a whole new point of view. Alas, no luck. Certain episodes can be found on VHS if you look hard enough, but not the whole series. So for now I’ll have to content myself with ogling Mr. Brosnan as Mr. Bond, Thomas Crown, and any number of other suave European gents. Hankie in hand, of course.

Editor’s note: Stephanie Zimbalist is not dead. I checked. But she still walks funny.

Today around the world: October 4 is National Cinnamon Bun Day in Sweden. Sweet!

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