Author: Mike Kalombo

His death was announced in a statement from Larry Larson, a longtime friend and the lawyer for Mr. Falk’s wife, Shera. He had been treated for Alzheimer’s disease in recent years. Mr. Falk had a wide-ranging career in comedy and drama, in the movies and onstage, before and during the three and a half decades in which he portrayed the unkempt but canny lead on “Columbo.” He was nominated for two Oscars; appeared in original stage productions of works by Paddy Chayefsky, Neil Simon and Arthur Miller; worked with the directors Frank Capra, John Cassavetes, Blake Edwards and Mike Nichols; and co-starred with the likes of Frank Sinatra, Bette Davis and Jason Robards. But Mr. Falk’s prime-time popularity, like that of his contemporary Telly Savalas, of “Kojak” fame, was founded on a single role. A lieutenant in the Los Angeles Police Department, Columbo was a comic variation on the traditional fictional detective. With the keen mind of Sherlock Holmes and Philip Marlowe, he was cast in the mold of neither — not a gentleman scholar, not a tough guy. He was instead a mass of quirks and peculiarities, a seemingly distracted figure in a rumpled raincoat, perpetually patting his pockets for a light for his signature stogie. He drove a battered Peugeot, was unfailingly polite, was sometimes accompanied by a basset hound named Dog, and was constantly referring to the wisdom of his wife (who was never seen on screen) and a variety of relatives and acquaintances who were identified in Homeric-epithet-like shorthand — an uncle who played the bagpipes with the Shriners, say, or a nephew majoring in dermatology at U.C.L.A. — and who were called to mind by the circumstances of the crime at hand. It was a low-rent affect that was especially irksome to the high-society murderers he outwitted in episode after episode. In the detective-story niche where Columbo lived, whodunit was hardly the point; the murder was committed and the murderer revealed in the show’s opening minutes. How it was done was paramount. Typically, Columbo would string his suspects along, flattering them, apologizing profusely for continuing to trouble them with questions, appearing to have bought their alibis and, just before making an exit, nailing them with a final, damning query that he unfailingly introduced with the innocent-sounding phrase, “Just one more thing ….” It was the signal to viewers that the jig was up. It was also the title of Mr. Falk’s anecdotal memoir, published in 2006, in which he summarized the appeal of the show. “What are you hanging around for?” he wrote, referring to the viewer. “Just one thing. You want to know how he gets caught.” Mr. Falk had a glass eye, resulting from an operation to remove a cancerous tumor when he was 3. The prosthesis gave all his characters a peculiar, almost quizzical squint. And he had a mild speech impediment that gave his L’s a breathy quality, a sound that emanated from the back of his throat and that seemed especially emphatic whenever, in character, he introduced himself as Lieutenant Columbo. Such a deep well of eccentricity made Columbo amusing as well as incisive, not to mention a progenitor of later characters like Tony Shalhoub’s Monk, and it made him a representative Everyman too. Off and on from 1968 to 2003, Mr. Falk played the character numerous times, often in the format of a 90-minute or 2-hour television movie. Each time Columbo, the ordinary man as hero, brought low a greedy and murderous privileged denizen of Beverly Hills, Malibu or Brentwood, it was an implicit victory for the many over the few. “This is, perhaps, the most thoroughgoing satisfaction ‘Columbo’ offers us,” Jeff Greenfield wrote in The New York Times in 1973: “the assurance that those who dwell in marble and satin, those whose clothes, food, cars and mates are the very best, do not deserve it.” Peter Michael Falk was born in Manhattan on Sept. 16, 1927, and lived for a time in the Bronx, near Yankee Stadium, but grew up mostly in Ossining, N.Y, where his father owned a clothing store and where, in spite of his missing eye, he was a high school athlete. In one story he liked to tell, after being called out at third base during a baseball game, he removed his eye and handed it to the umpire. “You’ll do better with this,” he said.

At the time of his fatal car accident earlier this week, “Jackass” star Ryan Dunn was intoxicated, a West Chester, Pennsylvania, police official confirmed to MTV News. The skater and stuntman had a blood alcohol level of .196 when he got behind the wheel on Monday; the legal limit in Pennsylvania is .08. A police official also confirmed that Dunn had been driving his Porsche upward of 130 mph when he crashed and died, along with his passenger, Zachary D. Hartwell. No other substances were found in his body. On Tuesday, police said the investigation into the crash that killed Dunn, 34, and Hartwell, 30, revealed that Dunn’s Porsche may have jumped a guardrail and crashed into a ravine before bursting into flames after the two men left the bar Barnaby’s of America in West Chester. A coroner’s report revealed that both men died of blunt force trauma from the impact of the wreck and burns from the resulting fire. While toxicology results may prove otherwise, an employee of Barnaby’s told MTV News earlier this week that, the night before the crash, Dunn “didn’t seem intoxicated. He seemed like he was having a good time, hanging out with his friends.” The Barnaby’s worker further noted that Dunn “only had a couple beers here. As far as we’re concerned, the biggest thing, our hearts go out to the family and friends, and his loss is a big loss to our community. The biggest thing we’re worried about is his friends and family.” Dunn’s longtime pal Bam Margera tearfully spoke to a Fox affiliate in Pennsylvania near the scene of the accident, saying, “I’ve never lost anybody that I care about; he’s my best friend. “He was the happiest person, the smartest guy with so much talent,” Margera continued. “He had so many things going for him. … It is not right. … It was the worst phone call I ever got in my life.” MTV News also traveled to Dunn’s adopted hometown of West Chester PA, and found many who remembered the “Jackass” star not for his celebrity status, but rather for his ability to remain modest despite living in the limelight. “He was real,” said Sam Ford, who was celebrating her 25th birthday at Barnaby’s, the last place Dunn was seen before his crash. Brock Jackson, 31, who said he grew up playing Little League with Bam Margera says Dunn had “truly kind eyes” and “a heart and a half.” He was especially impressed by the well-known resident’s memory, saying, “He remembered every time he met somebody.”

Although Rep. Gabrielle Giffords has come far enough in her recovery to leave the rehabilitation center where she spent the past five months, doctors agree she is only at the beginning stages of her rehabilitation. She will start outpatient therapy soon, which is likely to include speech, occupational and physical therapy a few days a week. Experts believe her continued rehabilitation will take a long time as she attempts to recover many of the skills and abilities she lost after being shot in the head in January. “The time frame for outpatient therapy is long, with her program continuing to be adjusted as she improves. Years of treatment is not unusual,” said Dr. Brian Greenwald, assistant professor of rehabilitation medicine at The Mount Sinai Medical Center in New York. “Despite the fact that the most rapid recovery occurs in the first year, recovery continues for a long time to come.”