Dragnet was not a serious that indulged in many happy endings - their first major Christmas episode - "A .22 Rifle for Christmas" - is definitely not a happy time. Yet "The Big Little Jesus" offers a rare easygoing Christmas crime; a church's state of baby Jesus has been stolen from their Nativity display. It's a small, inexpensive thing, but important to the community.
"The Big Little Jesus" originally aired December 22, 1953. It was written by Jack Webb's good friend (and frequent Dragnet writer) Richard L. Breen. It appeared on the Dragnet television series just three days after the radio version.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to hear is true; only the names have been changed to protect the innocent."
Dragnet is one of the best-remembered and still popular old-time radio shows of them all. It can be genuinely credited with altering not just the genre of police/crime radio dramas but the way in which radio drama was depicted from then on - to say nothing of the show's vast influence on television, particularly on Dick Wolf's Law and Order franchise. The original radio series was heard over NBC from January 1949 until March 1957 - although the show's final original episode was "the Big Close" (September 20, 1955) and all subsequent episodes were rebroadcasts.
The series originated with Jack Webb and Barton Yarborough as detective sergeants Joe Friday and Ben Romero, serving under chief of detectives Ed Backstrand (Raymond Burr), later Thad Brown (various actors). It's kind of amazing that a number of early episodes of Dragnet feature appearances by Harry Morgan as a variety of minor characters; nearly 2 decades later, he became famous as Joe Friday's TV partner Bill Gannon on the colour version of Dragnet.
The show hit perhaps its finest note when Barton Yarborough passed away during the show's 3rd season. Rather than eliminating the character of Ben Romero as though he'd never existed, it was written into the first episode following Yarborough's death- "the Big Sorrow" (December 27, 1951) in which Romero was killed and Friday must inform his family. Amazingly, that episode was also adapted to the Dragnet television show a year later.
Following Yarborough/Romero's death, Friday's new partner was Ed Jacobs (Barney Phillips), then Ben Romero's nephew Bill Lockwood (Martin Milner and Ken Peters) and finally Frank Smith who was portrayed by various actors until Ben Alexander took over the role in 1952 and held it through the Dragnet television series and feature film.
NBC was not known for giving a lot of rope to sustained programs (unlike CBS) but Dragnet wasn't sustained for very long; after it's successful run of summer shows in 1949, by the fall it was sponsored by Fatima cigarettes, who covered the series for many years to come; Webb performed in the commercials, giving testimonials about how fine Fatimas were.
Dragnet inspired a host of imitators, some I've written about before on the blog, most notably the Line-Up, 21st Precinct and Whitehall 1212. It set off a wave of programming that sought to find new angles on presenting crimes with authentic details; it's hard to imagine shows like Night Watch or Confession being greenlit had it not been for Dragnet proving there was audience interested in such programs. John Dunning noted in On the Air that Dragnet was also frequently compared to Gunsmoke, despite the differences in style and genre. Listeners recognized that both shows were striving for authentic-sounding realistic programming in genres that didn't always strive for such versimilitude.
Of course, Dragnet learned from its predecessors, improving upon the programming choices Calling All Cars and Gang Busters had made, kicking to the curb a lot of the tired old tropes of police dramas. But then, Dragnet itself became something that was seen as a bit tired and trope-y; certainly, you hear a lot of the same voices in each episode and also a lot of the same character types - the sullen youth, the indignant suspect, the gabby woman.
Television came upon Dragnet quickly; the series Chesterfield Sound Off ran a pilot for Dragnet on December 16, 1951 with the radio script from "City Hall Bombing" (July 21, 1949) and Webb and Yarborough reprising their characters. Their own television series debuted the following month but sadly, due to Yarborough's death, he only appeared in the first episode. The television version ran until the summer of 1959, during which Webb and Alexander also starred in the 1954 Dragnet feature film. Dragnet returned for a 1967-1970 run as a colour television program with Jack Webb starring opposite Harry Morgan.
Although Webb's particular clipped manner of speech had led him to being a subject of parody since all the way back to Pat Novak, for Hire, Dragnet's distinctive music, narration and performance style made it especially ripe for parody. Fortunately, Webb was usually a pretty good sport about that, giving his blessing to Stan Freberg for his comedy record "St. George and the Dragonet," even supplying Dragnet's musicians to supply the score for the sketch. Webb was also not above parodying Joe Friday himself in comedy sketches with Jack Benny and Johnny Carson on television.
However, the 1967-1970 Dragnet series brought in some less-than-affectionate parody, particularly because that series was essentially the same as the 1951-1959 series, only in colour. It was seen as hopelessly behind-the-times and out-of-touch, especially in its attempts to depict the ill effects of drug use (a long-time Dragnet staple), which tended to result in ridiculously hammy performances by the actors portraying addicts. Perhaps that's why the next time Dragnet was revived it was as a parody - the 1987 Dan Ackroyd/Tom Hanks comedy film (with Harry Morgan reprising his role from the '67-70 series). Of course, Jack Webb had died in 1982; he didn't see what had become of the franchise that made him famous.
Dragnet continued to be revived and for all I know, even as I type this, someone in Hollywood is trying to bring it back again. It came back in 1989 as a syndicated series starring Jeff Osterhage and Bernard White as brand-new protagonists; that series is mostly forgotten now. In 2003, Dick Wolf (whose Law and Order franchise had looked to Dragnet for inspiration) revived the series with Ed O'Neill and Ethan Embry as Friday and Smith; it lasted two very truncated seasons.
I'm particularly partial to the first year of Dragnet; the emphasis on action is a little bit stronger and I find Barton Yarborough to be Webb's best sidekick, his vocal twang being endlessly fun to listen to (I also appreciate hearing Raymond Burr in the majority of episodes). To me, the best of the early days include "the Werewolf" (June 17, 1949), the police impersonator in "the Red Light Bandit" (July 14, 1949), the mad bomber who tries to blow up city hall in "City Hall Bombing" (July 21, 1949) and the emotional Christmas episode ".22 Rifle for Christmas" (December 22, 1949).
The rest of Dragnet is good - the quality of the series' production values, writing and performances don't vary much across the years, even as Webb moved on to other partners for Joe Friday. Some episodes I enjoy include: Friday trying to prevent a suicide "the Big Jump" (January 11, 1951); the horrific fate of neglected children "the Big Children" (February 1, 1951); Friday and Romero interrogating a suspect who has a lot to say "the Big Cast" (February 8, 1951); Joe being injured, causing Ben to assume the lead and narration "the Big Ben" (March 15, 1951); an apparent suicide investigation "the Big Casing" (May 3, 1951); the two-part "The Big Mask" featuring an elusive masked bandit (December 28, 1952 and January 4, 1953; and the show's more heart-warming Christmas episode "the Big Little Jesus" (December 22, 1953).
I think it's a shame Webb decided at some stage that every episode should be "the Big"-something. It's harder to recommend Dragnet to fellow OTR fans when it takes so much work to figure out which of the 300+ episodes were the good ones; I think Webb wanted the titles to be stark, but they're also rather bland.
There are hundreds of Dragnet episodes online; some are network versions, others are clipped versions from the Armed Forces. Here's the Old Time Radio Researchers' YouTube playlist:
"My name's Regan. I get 10 a day and expenses from a detective bureau run by a guy named Anthony J. Lyon. They call me 'the Lyon's Eye.'"
I've previously blogged about Jack Webb's early career on ABC radio in San Francisco. When he moved to Los Angeles at the start of 1947 he quickly found work on shows like Suspense, the Whistler, Escape and the Amazing Mr. Malone but he didn't want to be a character actor - he was looking for leading roles, which led to Johnny Madero, Pier 23 - and some unfortuntate litigation from ABC, who found that show was too similar to Pat Novak, for Hire.
Webb's first big network role became the titular Jeff Regan, Investigator starting in July, 1948. The series was not as sharp as Pat Novak, for Hire had been but Webb injected some familiar wise guy dialogue, some of which was probably not in the original script.
Jeff Regan worked as a private eye in the agency run by Anthony J. Lyon, whom he affectionately (?) dubbed "Fatso." Lyon was always eager to make a dollar and would typically force Regan to start work on a case without making much of an effort to investigate his client's background. Inevitably, the client would turn out to be flat broke or get themselves murdered by the halfway point of the drama, at which point Lyon would want Regan to drop the case but Regan would be unable to step aside.
Webb exited the series at the end of 1948 (to resume Pat Novak, for Hire) and it seems as though CBS were unprepared for his departure. The series went off the air for the rest of the season, then returned in October, 1949 with Frank Graham as Jeff Regan.
The role of Anthony J. Lyon shifted around a little, first portrayed by Wilms Herbert but afterwards usually portrayed by Frank Nelson. Nelson's blustery performance provided a light touch to scenes between Regan and Lyon. Initially there was also a second private eye in Lyon's agency, Joe Canto, portrayed by Barton Yarborough who appeared very seldomly (he's only in one episode from the Jack Webb era, for those who want a preview of their later dynamic on Dragnet).
The series was originally written by E. Jack Neuman, a prolific CBS writer who worked on Suspense, Meet Miss Sherlock, the Whistler, Escape, Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar and the Line-Up, among many others. Later it fell into the clutches of writer William Froug (he wrote primarily for Hallmark Hall of Fame); Froug increased the amount of humour on the program, which is evident from the episode titles; early episodes have titles that are fairly generic among detective shows but in the Froug era they all have titles like "The Gorilla That Always Said Yeh-ah" and "If I Knew You Were Coming I'd Have Wrecked a Train."
I didn't know anything about Jeff Regan, Investigator for the longest time; when my local radio station began airing episodes regularly (all from the Jack Webb era) I was astonished to realize there was a Jack Webb detective program I hadn't previously taken notice of. It certainly wasn't up to the quality of Pat Novak, for Hire; I think I was particularly disappointed that after the intro where Webb (as Regan) referred to himself as "the Lyon's Eye" which seemed to be a pretty cool nickname, that Lyon himself was just a buffoon and not usually very helpful at helping Regan solve the cases. Their relationship was a bit like that of Archie Goodwin and Nero Wolfe, expect that unlike Wolfe, Lyon really was fat, lazy and disinterested in solving the cases. Still, the series it not without its charms; it's not hard-boiled by any means but Webb tackled the role with gusto and in time, Graham's performance grew on me.
The series came to a very tragic end on September 3, 1950 when Frank Graham committed suicide; that was the end of Jeff Regan, Investigator. Graham had been recording episodes in advance via transcription and evidently CBS aired their regularly-scheduled broadcast the same day Graham died - but they didn't recast the role with Graham's tragic end, instead the series went off the air for good. The final episode appears to have been entirely transcribed with no acknowledgement of Graham's death - indeed, it closes with the announcer promising they would be back the following week.
You can hear the Old Time Radio Researchers' collection of Jeff Regan, Investigator at the Internet Archive Most of the surviving episodes are from the series' final year on the air with Frank Graham as Jeff Regan.
Last month I posted a few Radio Recaps about Jack Webb's early efforts in radio, circa 1946. During his early days at ABC's San Francisco station he appeared in programs such as the editorial show One Out of Seven, the comedy program the Jack Webb Show and the dramatic anthology Spotlight Playhouse. But those programs were and are obscure; Webb's biggest pre-Dragnet hit was Pat Novak, for Hire, which began on ABC in August, 1946.
There were 3 phases to Pat Novak, for Hire's years on the radio; the 1st phase was the original run on ABC, from August, 1946 to March, 1947; in the 2nd phase, Ben Morris took over as Pat Novak from March-December, 1947; finally there was the 3rd phase in which Jack Webb returned to the series from February-July 1949. In total there were a little fewer than 100 episodes broadcast but we only have 24 currently; of the 24, just two are from the 1st phase, 4 from the 2nd phase and the other 18 from the 3rd phase.
The 1st phase of Pat Novak, for Hire was apparently very well-received; the fact that the show kept going after Jack Webb left and was popular enough to be revived in 1949 suggests that the 1st phase went down prety well, although it's hard for us to judge today with just the 2 episodes surviving.
Still, if you're familiar with Pat Novak, for Hire, you'll find the 1st phase very familiar, probably due to the presence of writer Richard L. Breen from the start. It features Webb as the titular Pat Novak (often nickname "Patsy" due to his unfortunte tendency to be framed for crimes), who rents boats at the San Francisco waterfront. His job renting boats is seldom important to the plots, although when it does factor in, it's the lead-in to Pat being involved in a crime. Inevitably, someone gets Pat entangled in a complicated criminal plot. The perpertually angry Inspector Helmann gets involved and threatens to throw Pat into prison unless he clears his name. Pat turns to his alcoholic buddy Jocko Madigan (usually played by Tudor Owen), who is more interesting in taunting Pat and making playful banter than solve his problem. By the end, Pat clears his name but nothing else to show for his troubles.
Webb is the anchor to the series in all its forms; Ben Morris did okay during the 2nd phase, but Webb had a unique ability to deliver both tough guy and wise guy dialogue. His monologues in particular had hilarious phrases, unequaled outside of Howard Duff's performance on the Adventures of Sam Spade. One favourite of mine is: "It was pretty dark, so when I bumped into her all I got was a vague outline... She had a good-looking vague outline."
After leaving San Francisco, Webb became a frequent voice on radio. Around 1947 you can hear him as a supporting player on anthology shows such as Suspens, the Whistler and Escape. He also had a recurring role as police officer Lt. LeFevre on the New Adventures of Michael Shayne, a syndicated program. Webb could probably have done well for himself as a radio regular, but he seems to have had higher goals than that - he wanted to write and produce. He reunited with Richard L. Breen to create Johnny Madero, Pier 23 for Mutual, which gave Webb a starring role - but since ABC was still airing Pat Novak, for Hire, that caused some friction between them and Webb (which I mentioned in the linked blog post).
Then in July, 1948, Webb took the lead role on the private eye series Jeff Regan, Investigator for CBS. That series isn't as highly-regarded as Webb's other detective shows but it tided him over for a few more months; Webb left the series at the end of 1948 to return to Pat Novak, for Hire, reunited with Richard L. Breen and Tudor Owen. Joining the cast was Raymond Burr as Inspector Helmann. There's also a recurring female player (possibly Betty Lou Gerson?) who tended to portray a different femme fatale each week (and usually died in Novak's arms by the climax).
Most the enduring reputation held by Pat Novak, for Hire is founded on the programs from the 3rd phase, and it's certainly well-earned. The addition of Burr (who would later join Webb on Dragnet) is extremely welcome. There are plenty of shows with wise guys detectives who frustrate the lead-footed policeman. Helmann is different; he and Novak bantered, but Helmann had limits; when Novak irritated him, he had no problem decking him. The aptly-named Helmann was vicious and brutal, not a clown like, say, Inspector Faraday of Boston Blackie. When Helmann would regularly threaten to use the powers of the police to arrest Novak for a crime he didn't commit, the listener is convinced that Helmann intends to make good on that threat. He's not a pleasant man.
The 1949 Pat Novak, for Hire revival was definitely noticed. At that time, there was no shortage of detective shows on radio so it's all the more remarkable that a small-time show like theirs had people talking. For example, the November 5, 1949 episode of Richard Diamond, Private Detective featured a satire on Pat Novak, for Hire, with what might be the first instance of someone performing their Jack Webb impression for yucks; you can hear that episode on YouTube.
It was during the final months of Pat Novak, for Hire that Webb began appearing on a new NBC program: Dragnet. He'd also later re-team with his pal Richard L. Breen for the series Pete Kelly's Blues; one episode of that series was recycled from Pat Novak, for Hire with only a few changes to the script. Pete Kelly's Blues was certainly the most like Pat Novak, for Hire of all Webb's post-1949 work.
You can hear the Old Time Radio Researchers' collection of Pat Novak, for Hire at the Internet Archive. Again, there's not very much surviving, but what we have is a terrific example of radio drama.
I've been examining the early years of Jack Webb's career lately and perhaps the most arresting piece of work he delved into in his first year on the radio (and that's saying something, in a year in which he starred in the Jack Webb Show and Pat Novak, for Hire) is One Out of Seven, a 15-minute program produced at ABC's San Francisco office from February 6 to March 20, 1946. Although the series' title referred to the news story "most worthy of retelling" from the previous week, appropriately One Out of Seven broadcast only 7 episodes total.
One Out of Seven was a news commentary/opinion program. It was directed and produced by Gil Doud, who was likewise just starting out in radio (he went on to write for the Voyage of the Scarlet Queen, the Adventures of Sam Spade, Suspense and Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar). The program was produced on a low budget, like the other San Francisco ABC programs Webb was involved in; for One Out of Seven, Webb was the only voice actor in every episode.
But One Out of Seven was, as I stated, an arresting program. You're not liable to forget it once you've heard an episode. I was treated to the 1st episode (a portrait of Senator Theodore Bilbo) over 20 years ago and I've never forgotten it, particularly Webb's echoed phrase (dripping with sarcasm): "Theodore Bilbo is an honorable man, and we do not intend to prove otherwise." One Out of Seven is utterly unlike other radio dramas from the time that you've heard because it had opinions on social problems of the day -- and pulled no punches in sharing them. Chief among the program's focus were the racial issues in the USA, especially those of the southern states. Of the 4 surviving episodes, 3 are concerned in some way with racism. This was simply not a topic other radio programs of the time were willing/able to confront.
You might feel uncomfortable listening to One Out of Seven; because Webb was the only performer, he had to adopt a lot of dialects, so that includes performing as black men. He also utters the n-word slur in one episode. But if you think of Webb as a stodgy old vanguard of conservatism (which his 1960s Dragnet TV show certainly helped promulgate) you might be surprised to find that 1946 Jack Webb was apparently a very liberal man for his time. One Out of Seven wasn't an angry program but it was certainly razor-sharp in its analysis of the USA's shortcomings.
You can hear the 4 surviving episodes of One Out of Seven at the Internet Archive (the episode labeled "Free Men" is identical to the "Anti-Negro South" episode).
Up 'til now I've written a couple of blog posts about Jack Webb's early radio career at ABC while he lived in San Francisco. His biggest hit from that tenure was Pat Novak, for Hire, part of Webb's long partnership with his writer friend (and former roommate) Richard L. Breen. Breen wrote comedy scripts for the Jack Webb Show, much of the quippy dialogue heard on Pat Novak, for Hire and later on he wrote for Webb on Dragnet and Pete Kelly's Blues.
But when Webb left San Francisco for Los Angeles, ABC kept producing Pat Novak, for Hire without he or Breen. So it was that Webb and Breen signed on with Mutual to produce a new show that was basically identical to Pat Novak, for Hire; that show was Johnny Madero, Pier 23. The two shows were set in San Francisco, featured Webb as a odd job guy who kept being involved in murders, sought council from a somewhat laconic ally, menaced by the local police inspector, and contained a terrific amount of quippy dialogue.
Apparently they were so much alike that after the 1st episode, ABC sued Mutual! It seems in the debut week, Johnny's ally was a drunk almost identical to Jocko Madigan from Pat Novak, for Hire. To placate ABC, the drunk was dropped and replaced with Father Leahy, portrayed by Gale Gordon. Despite being a man of the cloth, Father Leahy seemed to be basically identical to Jocko Madigan - prone to lengthy philosophical thoughts that would carry on, ignoring Johnny's protestations. But he didn't seem to be a drunk (although he did mention how much he enjoyed wine) so I suppose ABC were placated.
The hard-nosed police inspector of Johnny Madero was called Inspector Warchek and portrayed by William Conrad, who was definitely well-cast in that part. Webb and Conrad's angry wisecracks at each other form probably the best parts of the series.
Johnny Madero, Pier 23 only lasted 5 months, from April-September, 1947. Sadly, we only have 2 episodes currently known to exist. Happily, when the show ended, Webb and Breen patched things up with ABC and both returned to Pat Novak, for Hire. In fact, most of what we have now from that series is from Webb's 2nd tenure on the series.
You can hear the two surviving episodes of Johnny Madero, Pier 23 at the Internet Archive. It's a pity we have so little remaining; Mutual made a lot of detective programs but the writing and performances on this series were well above their average.
I'll probably write some more about Jack Webb's early career next week!
Since yesterday I wrote a little about Jack Webb's early radio career via his comedy program the Jack Webb Show, I'm going to examine a few more of his early shows.
Another program Jack Webb appeared in while in San Francisco is the ABC series Spotlight Playhouse. Unfortunately, despite its presence in Webb's history, radio historians don't seem to have paid much attention to this series yet. There are no radio logs for the program, so I know very little outside of what's present in the 2 surviving episodes.
Spotlight Playhouse was written and produced by Monte Masters. The two surviving episodes were written by him, so possibly the entire series was a showcase for his efforts. The casts were very small in this series, so like other early ABC programs it appears to have been cooked up on a shoestring budget. The opening rambles on and repeats itself somewhat:
The spotlight of life swings in all directions and no one knows upon whom it will settle. It may be you, or it may be you. All of us at one time or another have had something in our lives that would make drama and so you in our audience are the stars tonight in our Spotlight Playhouse, for these are stories presented each week at this hour which may concern any of you. Now: Spotlight Playhouse.
"From This Window" (March 14, 1946) concerned a young couple whose relationship is viewed from a window by a woman who narrates the events of their lives. Webb appears as the male lead of the couple.
"Genius from Hoboken" (March 21, 1946) concerned a New Jersey barber whose greatest desire is to build violins and how he struggles to achieve his dream. Webb appears in a couple of small parts, using a dialect in one of them.
In 1946, Jack Webb was just starting out in radio but very quickly his voice was all over ABC. ABC was a new network then and were probably desperate for some original programming. Webb appeared in a number of shows that followed each other in quick succession, all produced in San Francisco. His first big series, One Out of Seven, I'll have to address in a future blog post. Today I'm going to talk about Jack Webb's comedy-music program, the Jack Webb Show.
The Jack Webb Show aired March-August, 1946 on ABC. We have only two episodes that are still known to exist. Webb started his private eye series Pat Novak, for Hire in 1946 but wouldn't reach the role he'd be best-known for - Joe Friday of Dragnet - until 1949. The Jack Webb of 1946 was young, hungry and... yes, funny!
To the baby boomer generation, Webb's stoic performance as Joe Friday became iconic. Even though he remained busy in other works outside of Dragnet (such as Pete Kelly's Blues), nothing he touched reached as far or lasted as long as Dragnet. Webb's stoic, deadpan delivery was so famous that, to cite one example from late in his career, when he appeared on the 1974 Jack Benny's Second Farewell Special in a comedy sketch alongside his Dragnet co-star Harry Morgan and Jack Benny, Webb remained entirely in-character as Joe Friday - whereas Harry Morgan was permitted to break character for the sake of a few laughs. In the sketch, Friday's seeming inability to possess a sense of humour was in itself a kind of joke.
But that was Webb in the last decade of his life. He hadn't built a reputation as a straight man in 1946. He hadn't built any reputation. Thus, like yesterday's post on the Orson Welles Radio Almanac we have a radio series whose star is not best-known as a comedic performer. The difference is that Welles had built his reputation in dramatic radio for 6-7 years prior to that program, while Webb was just starting out.
Comparing the two shows, Webb comes off extremely well. Believe it or not, the Jack Webb Show was a zany comedy program, similar to another show that followed it on ABC - the Henry Morgan Show. Webb had to disappear into a number of different parts for the comedy sketches and he was extremely capable at it. It's a fast-paced show and Webb's patter is so good, I guarantee you'll forget he's best-rembered as a dramatic peformer.
The two shows each have one lengthy comedy sketch; in the first, it's "The Razor in the Case of the Confused Keyhole" in which Webb satirizes radio private detective programs (he even calls out Dick Powell by name!). In the second, it's "Slim Slade, Western Bandleader" in which he plays a band leader whose band seems to play the exact same song every time they perform, despite the leader's insistence that he's crafted a variety of different tunes.
You can hear the 2 surviving episodes of the Jack Webb Show on the Internet Archive.
Most of the Christmas radio programs I'm featuring are comedies or feature stories which are ultimately life-affirming and warmhearted. Something a bit stronger, however, is Jack Webb's show Dragnet. There are some very nice holiday episodes of Dragnet from over the years, but the one I've chosen to look at is a notorious episode called "A .22 Rifle for Christmas" from December 22, 1949. Two children disappear just ahead of Christmas. When one of the boys reappears, he has a tragic story to share about playing with the rifle his father bought him for Christmas.
This episode was not beloved by the NRA (to put it mildly). Like all Dragnet episodes, it's based on actual events; like most Dragnet episodes, it's grim and stark. But not entirely without heart. You can hear it at archive.org here.
Why do some creative people reject opportunities to change directions?
The combination of art and commerce has never got along entirely smoothly. Many creative people working in the entertainment industry are not in a position to control the decisions made about the properties they are employed on. People working on a radio program, television program, comic strip, film or comic book are frequently a hired hand who must temper their sensibilities to what the owners expect or else be out of work.
People who have toiled long within these fields on other people's properties often yearn to seize the means of production for themselves, to leave their former owners and create something wholly original in which they have a larger say in about creative decisions.
When creative people leave a property they were well-known for and move into something else, they don't necessarily continue in the same oeuvre which made them famous. When Dennis Weaver left Gunsmoke, it wasn't so he could star in a different western program; when McLean Stevenson left M*A*S*H his next show wasn't another army/medical comedy; Alex Raymond's post-Flash Gordon work was not science fiction.
But occasionally, creative people leave the property they were best-known for to take on exactly the same type of material they had been doing before. It can pay dividends; when Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll wanted to move their radio program Sam 'n' Henry from local broadcasting to national they couldn't because they didn't own the property; quitting the show, they developed a brand-new program which was basically the exact same thing with different names: Amos 'n' Andy. The latter show lasted 30+ years.
But more commonly, it doesn't work out; another radio show, The Great Gildersleeve was perhaps the first spin-off show (from Fibber McGee and Molly) and certainly established many of the tropes which spin-off programs use to this day. However, star Harold Peary - who had been playing Gildersleeve first on Fibber McGee, then on his own show and in motion pictures - wasn't satisfied with the level of creative input he had (among other things, he wanted more opportunities to sing). Peary left The Great Gildersleeve and launched a new program, Honest Harold; but Honest Harold was basically the exact same program - Peary played the same type of character and even employed some of the same supporting cast members. Meanwhile, Willard Waterman replaced Peary on The Great Gildersleeve and did a fine imitation of Peary; audiences had spent years bonding with the character of The Great Gildersleeve and were loathe to accept an impersonation, even coming from the man who created the original; Honest Harold flopped and Peary never had another hit.
When Image Comics launched in 1992, the founding seven creators played mostly within the same kind of stories they had been producing as hired guns for Marvel Comics (but with graphic violence). As Peter David observed at the time:
So when a creator boldly announces that he’s off to start his or her own line, my presumption and hope is that it’s going to be something new and visionary. It doesn’t have to be highly marketable. Indeed, Marvel and DC’s main flaw is that titles are expected to draw significantly higher sales than an independent would reasonably expect for his piece of the market pie. So “Hard Boiled” doesn’t have to sell like “X-Men.” No one expects it to.
If Todd said, “I’ve been dying to do a good romance comic,” I’d be thrilled. If Erik said, “My life’s goal is to produce a solid western,” I’d be impressed.
So what’s Image publishing?
Superheroes.
Young superheroes. SWAT Team superheroes. Young freelance superheroes. A group of superheroes.
I mean…haven’t we got Marvel and DC for that? Why have X-Force clones when we’ve got X-Force?
Indeed, Rob Liefeld's Youngblood was made up of characters he had originally created as unused redesigns for titles like Legion of Super-Heroes and Teen Titans. Violence aside, there was very little different between X-Force and Youngblood, aside from fan investment in existing characters and publishing identities.
Sticking with similar type of material leads to creative people being typecast; when Johnny Weismuller left the Tarzan films to be Jungle Jim, he merely left one type of jungle hero films for another. Basil Rathbone suffered from being typecast as the detective hero Sherlock Holmes in film and radio; he finally abandoned the role to take on the part of... detective Basil Rathbone in the radio series Tales of Fatima, doing absolutely nothing to halt his typecasting.
For contrast, look to Jack Webb, who started in radio with the serious news-commentary program One Out of Seven, then the very-burlesque humour of The Jack Webb Show. For a time he settled into programs where he played wry private detectives - Jeff Regan, Pat Novak, Johnny Modero - but broke out of those parts with his show Dragnet, a successful attempt at a grounded police drama. Even with the fame of Dragnet, he didn't simply branch out into other kinds of cop dramas - his other big passion project was the jazz/crime series Pete Kelly's Blues.
I had some understanding of this when I worked at Marvel - I didn't want to be known just as an Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe guy, so I jumped at the chance to write introductory text in Untold Tales of the New Universe, to write the trade dress for trade paperbacks and step outside my comfort zone for properties like Anita Blake and Image's Proof. If you intend to be considered a creative person, you can't simply toil at the same kind of thing from project to project - not if you want to be considered vital. Do the same thing for too long and people will assume that... well, that's all you've got to offer.
