"Forever Knight" was a cheesy show, but the TV movie it was taken from -- "Nick Knight" -- with Rick Springfield was brilliant. It had much better production values than "Forever Knight" and it was both hipper and grittier. And it was better than the episode of "Moonlight" -- a suspiciously similar series -- I saw.
Rick drove a big-ass vintage pink Cadillac, because if he was caught when the sun came up it had the largest trunk available for him to dive into and hibernate until night. He was working with a sympathetic coroner to try and wean himself from blood (which in any case he never took from people -- he had blood lab bottles in his refrigerator).
The coroner guy was a cross between a friend, an AA sponsor, and a medical researcher. Rick was often strung out from their regimen, just like a recovering addict. Not only did he have withdrawal symptoms if he didn't get enough plasma, but real food -- which he was trying to break into eating -- tended to make him sick. His relationship with this guy was the central ongoing one in the story. He lived in an apartment carved out of a Grauman-type movie palace (it was the upper lobby or something) so it had all this over the top decor that was both vampire and Old L.A. in feeling.
Springfield gave Nick a troubled rock star feel, hot and somewhat elegantly wasted. He was struggling with his life, and he just happened to have the hottest car, the coolest apartment, and the best jacket. He was such a good detective that the L.A.P.D. indulged his eccentric insistence on working only at night.
They should have simply greenlighted the show just the way it was, with Springfield in it, but instead it ended up an underbudgeted Canadian series with no realistic underpinnings, a lot of costume flashbacks, and Geraint Wynn-Davies's somewhat actorish performance. What's more, the minute Wynn-Davies got the part he started putting on weight and kept putting it on. I hated, hated, hated that show.
Rick drove a big-ass vintage pink Cadillac, because if he was caught when the sun came up it had the largest trunk available for him to dive into and hibernate until night. He was working with a sympathetic coroner to try and wean himself from blood (which in any case he never took from people -- he had blood lab bottles in his refrigerator).
The coroner guy was a cross between a friend, an AA sponsor, and a medical researcher. Rick was often strung out from their regimen, just like a recovering addict. Not only did he have withdrawal symptoms if he didn't get enough plasma, but real food -- which he was trying to break into eating -- tended to make him sick. His relationship with this guy was the central ongoing one in the story. He lived in an apartment carved out of a Grauman-type movie palace (it was the upper lobby or something) so it had all this over the top decor that was both vampire and Old L.A. in feeling.
Springfield gave Nick a troubled rock star feel, hot and somewhat elegantly wasted. He was struggling with his life, and he just happened to have the hottest car, the coolest apartment, and the best jacket. He was such a good detective that the L.A.P.D. indulged his eccentric insistence on working only at night.
They should have simply greenlighted the show just the way it was, with Springfield in it, but instead it ended up an underbudgeted Canadian series with no realistic underpinnings, a lot of costume flashbacks, and Geraint Wynn-Davies's somewhat actorish performance. What's more, the minute Wynn-Davies got the part he started putting on weight and kept putting it on. I hated, hated, hated that show.