Starring Robert Blake as Tony Baretta, a plainclothes detective who loved his disguises, the series was a different kind of cop show. Equipped with unconventional methods and a cockatoo named Fred, Baretta became an icon in the genre.
Tony Baretta was a unique character in TV land. He wasn’t your typical by-the-book cop. Instead, he solved crimes using street smarts and non-traditional methods, popularizing the catchphrase, “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.”
A quirky mix of characters added some interesting layers to the storytelling. From petty criminals to his endearing pet cockatoo, Baretta’s world was as colorful as it was complex. Amid the gripping action sequences and crime-solving, Fred the parrot provided lighter moments, breaking the tension and charming audiences.
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The show was well-received during its run from 1975 to 1978 — it was a ratings success and even led Robert Blake to win an Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series. However, the series faced its share of controversies, most notably surrounding its star. Blake’s later legal troubles shadowed the show’s legacy, though it hasn’t entirely dampened its impact on pop culture.
The show had a lasting impact on TV crime dramas, an influence still visible in series like Miami Vice, The Shield, and Castle. By shaking up the formulaic approach to the genre, it introduced us to a cop who was more layered and human.
While Baretta remains a snapshot of TV from its era, its innovative themes and characters continue to attract new viewers, proving its enduring appeal. And of course, it made us all wish we had a pet cockatoo as cool as Fred.
Baretta theme song & opening credits
Baretta star rewrites script, seeking realism (1976)
By Gary Deeb in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram (Texas) January 20, 1976
Robert Blake is standing on the set of “Baretta,” half amused and half outraged at the inept script that he’s trying to shape into a reputable episode of the popular Wednesday night detective series. “This story is already unbelievable,” he announced. “The thing stinks so bad. Baretta’s gonna look like a dunce.”
During the next half-hour, Blake, dictating dialogue off the top of his head, completely rewrites one scene, improving it immeasurably. Then he improvises an entirely new scene to bridge the giant gaps in the script.
And the star of the show doesn’t stop there. He coaches the other actors, suggests camera positions, switches the plots, curses up a storm, and even calls the scriptwriter on the phone to let him know his work is substandard.
It’s just an average day on Soundstage 22 at Universal Studios as Bobby Blake — former child star, one-time drug addict, and currently Hollywood’s leading iconoclast — delivers another electric performance, both on camera and behind the scenes.
“There is a saying in the world of psychology,” Blake tells a reporter. “He only gains his freedom in existence who daily conquers it anew.” If so, then Robert Blake has spent the last year about as close to total freedom as any TV actor is likely to get. There’s probably no star in the medium today who dominates his series as thoroughly and unequivocally as Blake.
“Jo Swerling and Roy Huggins were the producers of ‘Baretta’ in the beginning, but not anymore,” he says with a smile. “They just wanted to revise ‘Tom’ a little bit and slap some scripts together. They didn’t care if the show was good or bad. Well, I don’t buy that. I battled Universal.
“It was the ugliest fight of my life, but I won. I got my pal, Bernie Kowalski, in as executive producer. I busted my tail and wound up in the hospital. But we made the show a hit.”
Far from forging a happy ending, however, the commercial success of “Baretta” continues to spell misery for Blake. Hardly a week goes by in which he doesn’t get into a wrestling match with ABC’s archaic censors. “They aren’t interested in quality,” he sneers. “They just sit there and count gunshots and cover up skin.”
Then Blake relates how ABC’s dog-eared censors ruined what could have been an exciting and socially meaningful “Baretta” episode last month. “I sent Bernie Kowalski back east to have a meeting with Pierce (ABC Television president Fred Pierce) about a show we were doin’ about a runaway teenage girl. The show would have shown that runnin’ away from home is stupid.
“But within that particular scene, you gotta display some of the gritty realities that runaways come up against, right? Because if you don’t show it like it is then all these kids are gonna listen to Bob Dylan, shove a guitar on their backs, and leave ‘home to try for a hit record.”
In the proposed episode, Blake explains, the runaway girl gets involved with a degenerate old-timer who lusts after her body. But ABC didn’t like that. “The network insisted that the old man couldn’t kiss her or even put his hands on her. They made him into a sweet old pumpkin, and they made the girl into Little Mary Sunshine. That’s irresponsibility on the network’s part.”
Despite the popularity of “Baretta,” now in its second season, Blake has slapped Universal with a landmark breach-of-contract suit that, if successful, will mean the end of his part in the series. Blake claims the studio was two months late in paying him $25,000 in overtime. Furthermore, he says, when the check finally arrived, it was $7,000 short.
“It’s like this: Universal paid all its actors late. That way, they can keep collectin’ interest on that money. Universal goes for weeks and weeks on end, with my money in their pockets, collectin’ interest on it.”
The outspoken actor says his case will be decided this spring or summer in Los Angeles Superior Court. “If the court says I’m wrong, I’ll shut up. But if the court says I’m right, I’m callin’ a cab and gettin’ outta here. I have dignity and self-pride.”
Blake then steps back in front of the cameras, ready for the next scene. He mocks another segment of the script, laughing devilishly as he does, and again he dictates a hasty rewrite to preserve some credibility. The director suggests another dialogue change, but Blake is way ahead of him.
“Don’t worry about it,” intones Peck’s Baddest Boy. “I reworked it while you was gettin’ a drinka water.”
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