It's a genuine shame that this spin-off TV series inspired by the superior made-for-TV pictures "The Night Stalker" and "The Night Strangler" only lasted a single season and twenty episodes, because at its best this program offered an often winning and highly entertaining blend of sharp cynical humor (Carl Kolchak's spirited verbal sparring matches with perpetually irascible and long-suffering editor Tony Vincenzo were always a treat to watch and hear), clever writing, nifty supernatural menaces (gotta love the offbeat and original creatures in "The Spanish Moss Murders," "The Sentry," and "Horror in the Heights," plus you can't go wrong with such tried'n'true fright favorites as zombies, vampires, werewolves, and witches), colorful characters, lively acting from a raft of cool guest stars (legendary biker flick icon William Smith got a rare chance to tackle a heroic lead in "The Energy Eater" while other episodes featured great veteran character actors like Keenan Wynn, John Fiedler, John Dehner, Severn Darden, and William Daniels in juicy roles), effective moments of genuine suspense (the sewer-set climax of "The Spanish Moss Murders" in particular was truly harrowing), and, best of all, the one and only Darren McGavin in peak zesty form as the brash, aggressive, and excitable, but basically decent, brave, and honest small-time Chicago, Illinois newspaper reporter Carl Kolchak.
Kolchak was the quintessential 70's everyman protagonist, a wily and quick-witted fellow with a strong nose for a tasty scoop and an unfortunate knack for getting into all kinds of trouble. Moreover, the occasionally bumbling Kolchak was anything but superhuman; he usually either tripped or stumbled while running away from a deadly threat, yet possessed a certain inner strength and courage that enabled him to save the human race time and time again from all kinds of lethal otherworldly foes. Kolchak was surrounded by a handful of enjoyable secondary characters: Simon Oakland was perfect as Carl's chronically ill-tempered boss Tony Vincenzo, Jack Grinnage as the prissy Ron Updyke made for an ideal comic foil, Ruth McDevitt was simply delightful as the sweet Miss Emily Cowles, and Carol Ann Susi was likewise a lot of fun as eager beaver rookie Monique Marmelstein (who alas disappeared after popping up in only three episodes). Granted, the show did suffer from lackluster make-up and special effects (the titular lycanthrope in "The Werewolf" unfortunately resembles a Yorkshire terrier!) and the latter episodes boasted a few laughably silly monsters (the headless motorcyclist in "Chopper," Cathy Lee Crosby as Helen of Troy in "The Youth Killer'), but even the second-rate shows are redeemed by the program's trademark wickedly sly sardonic wit and McGavin's boundless vitality and engagingly scrappy presence.
Kolchak was the quintessential 70's everyman protagonist, a wily and quick-witted fellow with a strong nose for a tasty scoop and an unfortunate knack for getting into all kinds of trouble. Moreover, the occasionally bumbling Kolchak was anything but superhuman; he usually either tripped or stumbled while running away from a deadly threat, yet possessed a certain inner strength and courage that enabled him to save the human race time and time again from all kinds of lethal otherworldly foes. Kolchak was surrounded by a handful of enjoyable secondary characters: Simon Oakland was perfect as Carl's chronically ill-tempered boss Tony Vincenzo, Jack Grinnage as the prissy Ron Updyke made for an ideal comic foil, Ruth McDevitt was simply delightful as the sweet Miss Emily Cowles, and Carol Ann Susi was likewise a lot of fun as eager beaver rookie Monique Marmelstein (who alas disappeared after popping up in only three episodes). Granted, the show did suffer from lackluster make-up and special effects (the titular lycanthrope in "The Werewolf" unfortunately resembles a Yorkshire terrier!) and the latter episodes boasted a few laughably silly monsters (the headless motorcyclist in "Chopper," Cathy Lee Crosby as Helen of Troy in "The Youth Killer'), but even the second-rate shows are redeemed by the program's trademark wickedly sly sardonic wit and McGavin's boundless vitality and engagingly scrappy presence.