This was another one of those self-important Quinn Martin productions (thank goodness the last of the tripe his production house foisted on the American public went off the air about two decades ago) that was typical of detective shows in that era that, in hopes of being different, went to inane, illogical and implausible lengths that were actually quite laughable. We had a 95-year-old gumshoe in "Barnaby Jones. " We had a washed-up paraplegic in "Ironside. " We had a blind, mind you, blind, insurance investigator in "Longstreet. " And we had a pathologically obese shamus in "Cannon. "

William Conrad, a very fine and usually convincing actor, gave it his all in this series, but it was just too much of a stretch to make it believable. A PI so fat that he could barely hoist his bulk out of his oversized Lincoln doing foot chases? A private dick 150 pounds overweight engaging in fist fights without keeling over with a massive coronary? Don't bet on it. What I found amusing was the background music used, the fugue employed, when Cannon was on the march: the featured instrument was the tuba, which is pretty appropriate when you think about it. However, for some strange reason, this was a watchable show, probably because the premise was so ridiculous that you had to tune in to see what they were up to.

--moosekarloff