This may be one of my favorite-for-the-wrong-reasons trope. It’s typically found in cop shows, but I’ve seen it in other genres as well.
The basic premise is simple. Someone who did a bad thing in the past has come back to seek revenge on the person who caught them doing the bad thing and/or got them in trouble for it.
A great example of this is the Simon & Simon episode “Double Play”. Rick and A.J. find themselves being framed and the list of suspects is just people they put in jail. None of these people are innocent; they all did what they served time for. Some of them hold grudges, some of them apparently don’t. But the person who framed them absolutely did it out of revenge.
Because they blamed Rick and A.J. for them going to jail.
I can’t count (well, I probably can, but I’m too lazy) the number of times someone rode into Dodge City on Gunsmoke looking for Matt Dillon because he put them in jail once and now they’re looking to get even. More than once did Steve McGarrett have to contend with a blast from the past coming back to exact revenge on Hawaii Five-O because he put them in prison for a crime they committed.
I think what I love the most about this trope is the absolute lack of self-reflection, the 100% denial to take any responsibility for their own actions that it depends upon. Sure, I made all of these dubious, unfortunate life choices, but you can’t honestly punish me for that, can you? How dare you! It’s hilarious. It’s an adult version of a temper tantrum. I was held responsible for my actions. I’ll show you!
I would love to say that it’s an unrealistic trope, but unfortunately, lower stake versions of this sort of thing happens all the time. People will do gymnastics that rival Simone Biles to avoid taking responsibility for their own actions, gladly trying to stick the landing of blaming the person who called them out. Amazing.
I’ve seen one good twist on this trope in an episode of Barney Miller called “The Vandal”. The detectives of the 12th Precinct arrive to find that their squad room has been vandalized, including graffiti specifically calling Barney an unmentionable name. While there’s plenty of speculation of who the culprit is, it turns out to be a man from Barney’s past seeking vengeance for the ticket Barney gave him for littering decades before, an incident that Barney can’t even remember.
The twist comes from the fact that the man isn’t necessarily seeking vengeance for being held responsible for his “crime”, but that because Barney insisted on holding him up to write such a petty ticket, the man missed his job interview which led to his life descending in a downward spiral.
One can argue that if the man hadn’t littered in the first place, he never would have gotten the ticket, but it also shows that Barney wasn’t always the compassionate, understanding leader that we had by that time come to know. It also illustrated how something that can be insignificant for one person, can be monumental for another.
However, this is a rare instance. Most of these people are going to continue to make our heroes pay for catching them.
And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it for all the wrong reasons.
I am by no means an expert on TV Westerns. (Actually, you could put “I am by no means an expert” on my headstone because I’m not an expert on anything; I’m just really good at running my mouth.) But I have watched all of The Big Valley and Bonanza, and just about every episode of Gunsmoke thanks to my father’s latest binge watching habits, and I’ve noticed something.
It’s a common trope on a cop show.
I adore Dub Taylor. He might have appeared in more movies than TV shows, but he won my heart in reruns. He was perfectly made for westerns with his gruff look that could go sweet or mean depending on the need. That country accent might have sounded a little out of place in the modern day cityscape, but he made it work.
The other episode I love him in is the second season episode of The Monkees called “Hillbilly Honeymoon”. It’s Romeo and Juliet meets the Hatfield and McCoys with a Monkees twist. Dub Taylor plays Paw Chubber, whose daughter Ellie Mae is first in love with Judd from the rival Weskett clan, but then falls in love with Davy, earning the ire of Judd. Judd and Maw Weskett kidnap Davy with the intent of turning him into mash for moonshine. Meanwhile, Paw Chubber insists that Davy make an honest woman of his daughter since he caught them kissing. It’s a hilarious episode and Dub Taylor does his part as a menacingly funny patriarch armed with a shotgun.
For episode 72 of Book ’em, Danno, I watched the sixth season Hawaii Five-O episode “One Born Every Minute” in which a brilliant con man uses a beautiful blonde to rope in married, middle aged men to swindle money from them in an elaborate diamond buying scheme. The con man targets these men because their married nature precludes them from going to the cops once they’ve discovered they’ve been had because they don’t want their wives to find out that they were in the market to cheat.
If you’re at all into reruns (and you must be if you’re here), then you’re probably familiar with the words “a Quinn Martin production”. A legendary producer during the ’60s and ’70s, the man had a gift for running a TV show. Sure, not all of them were multi-season successes and not all of his pilots were picked up, but he’s got more than one classic to his name.