Once upon a time, there was a classic TV romantic comedy called “Moonlighting,” which starred a former super model (Cybill Shepherd) and a wise-ass scruffy future movie star (Bruce Willis).
They played smart-mouthed private eyes who worked together, didn’t always get along but kept the world engrossed with their unfulfilled sexual attraction.
Fast forward several decades. Tonight, TNT — via author David Baldacci — brings us a rom-com starring a former super model (Rebecca Romijn) and a wise-ass scruffy future movie star (Jon Tenney). They play smart-mouthed private eyes with unfulfilled sexual attraction. No, it’s not called “Moonlighting 2,” but “King & Maxwell.” Yes, Romijn and Tenney are gorgeous to look at and, yes, it’s mostly well-written. But unlike “Moonlighting,” this one goes to ridiculous Baldacci places that no private eye in history has ever entered.
We’re talking international satellites, serial killers and autistic geniuses with knowledge of giant defense secrets. Mostly, though, we’re talking two private eyes who are the envy and enmity of the FBI.
Tenney plays Sean King, a bad boy PI/lawyer to Romijn’s Michelle Maxwell, his PI partner in grime. On tonight’s premiere, we meet the two as they become engrossed in a case close to King’s heart. His dear friend and mentor, a lawyer, has been murdered by his own client—an autistic numbers genius who also apparently piles up the bodies in numbers.
In fact, the man had dozens of men buried on his property at a remote farm.
While the feds fumble, King & Maxwell, figure the whole thing out — and manage to even break into a Senate hearing via satellite. But before all that happens, the impossibly gorgeous Maxwell showers (with the door open, natch) at King’s house, disarms half a dozen burly body guards with her extraordinary martial arts skills without ever breaking a sweat or missing a chance to make a smart-ass remark.
But King is no slouch either, and as a lawyer/PI is a helluva comedian who can beat up people while delivering one-liners.
There’s nothing wrong with this series, because if there were, you wouldn’t have seen the same formula so many times; it’s like the secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies — everyone’s got one, and they’re all slightly different but they all taste the same.
Like too many detective stories, this one ends with the giant expository dialogue at the end between the bad guys and good guys, who explain their actions to each other so that the writers don’t have to figure out a more clever way to get the info out to the rest of us.
More focus on their day jobs and less “Moonlighting” by the producers is needed here.