<p> * Some spoilers * </p>

<p> The first true Tara King episode to air, 'Game' is otherwise no departure for 'The Avengers.' It's stylish, clever and a bit silly. The only real downside, alas, is the new leading lady. That's not Linda Thorson's fault, because the script gives her relatively little to do except need to be rescued.</p>

<p> First the background. In not quite two seasons partnering Patrick Macnee's John Steed, Diana Rigg had achieved artistic success, with the show marketed to 70 countries around the world. Off-screen, though, long hours and her initially very low pay had left Rigg increasingly unhappy. When Rigg would not agree to another contract extension, executives of Associated British Production Corp./Thames Television essentially told her not to let the door hit her on the way out.</p>

<p> With Rigg thus going even before her existing contract was up, studio head Howard Thomas had a second bad idea. Thomas, who had originally commissioned the show as a light-hearted but noirish action series, became concerned that Steed looked 'weak' when partnered with an equal like Honor Blackman's Cathy Gale or Rigg's Emma Peel. So he fired the producers at the time, Albert Fennell and Brian Clemens.</p>

<p> Thomas' decision to elevate John Bryce in their place seemed reasonable. Bryce previously served as story editor and then producer for an earlier sequence of episodes, when Steed was a more rough-and-tumble character. But Bryce also has someone he wanted to bring along, his pretty and voluptuous girlfriend, Linda Thorson. A young Canadian and new graduate of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, Thorson went right from school to starring in one of the UK's top series.</p>

<p> Thorson would turn out to be a perfectly decent actress, particularly adept at comedy and good enough when given a chance to do action scenes. Even Brian Clemens joined the general drooling over her physique, reported at 38D-24-36. Clemens would later cobble together the script for 'The Forget-Me-Knot,' the episode that would introduce Thorson to viewers.</p>

<p>But in production terms, first there was the brief John Bryce era to get through, beginning with this script by Richard Harris, who had written the visually strong 'The Winged Avenger.' He has another idea for the art department to run with: a series of table-top games with real-life consequences. A man playing a game of Snakes and Ladders must climb a real, if theatrical ladder, and suffers a very bad fall indeed. Another, playing with a racing set, has a real car accident.</p>

<p> Not only are these set-ups inventive, they contain unqiuely Avengers touches. The unfortunate racer is found with goggles still on, but they're filled with pieces of a puzzle. As the victims pile up _ they usually do _ they come complete with more pieces. While Tara literally puts them together, Steed reaches a larger conclusion: the victims are all fellow Army veterans, who served with him on post-war tribunals.</p>

<p> The games continue, and eventually mark the appearance of the always reliable Peter Jeffrey as the villainous mastermind. As usual, some details don't bear close scrutiny, such as Steed and Tara waiting patiently at his flat for the next killing and the next clue. But the games themselves are mischievously staged. There's the occasional trip to a playground to collect the bodies, but most of the work is done on colorful soundstages, exuberant and practically psychedelic.</p>

<p> Of course, this is the Sixties, and Tara's wardrobe of lemon yellow and lime green miniskrits and jackets, plus a glowing fuschia blouse, is true to its epoch. It seems to invite viewers to turn on their black lights and just turn on. Steed's clothes, for which Macnee claimed credit, also are beautiful. There's a subtle blue-gray suit, almost lavender, with a matching tie, and a brown glen-plaid coat complemented by yellow and brown tones in the rest of his ensemble. Increasing the mod touches, Macnee also features period sideburns. </p>

<p> Looking at her in some of these outfits, it's easy to see why Linda Thorson was cast. Honor Blackman and Diana Rigg had nice legs, but they're no match for Thorson's stupendous stems: the shorter her skirt, the better. And when she wears a soft and clingy blue dress that hugs that magnificent bosom, Linda Thorson obliterates any thought of poor under-developed Diana Rigg.</p>

<p> At least for a moment. While Tara King would win a wet T-shirt contest in a walkover over Emma Peel, it takes a lot more than T&A to spell characterization. In earlier years, Blackman introduced the tough-minded, leather-clad Cathy Gale as television's first kick-butt heroine. In her trademark catsuits, Rigg took a more comic, but still capable and oh-so-cool, version of the woman warrior to a worldwide audience. Her on-screen rapport with Macnee represented a peak of casting success.</p>

<p> So Thomas' demand for a stronger Steed, assisted by a weaker young female apprentice, missed the secret of the show's appeal. In addition to the personal charm of Macnee and Rigg, viewers responded to the adult respect that existed between Steed and Mrs. Peel. They had each others' backs, and Steed was in no way diminished by relying on Emma: he could depend on her, the same way she depended on him. Formidable apart, they made an unbeatable team. And after saving each other, as well, as the world, they could enjoy a nice bottle of bubbly.</p>

<p> In contrast, the tag scene for this episode is a game of "Steedopoly," where every move Steed makes succeeds and every move Tara makes is wrong. That accurately represents the thinking of the production executives, but it's fuzzy thinking.</p>

Adventurous may be putting it strongly, but this is a departure for a heretofore bland show. If its brain trust has any brains, we'll see more episodes like it. Mercifully, the focus switches to the break-out characters of Lily and Barney. Not only are Alyson Hannigan and Neil Patrick Harris the strongest actors on this show, their characters aren't hemmed in by tired Friends-like mandatory romantic encounters and misunderstandings. This episode puts the two in a new and unexpected situation. Sure, the set-up is a bit contrived, but it succeeds in creating a different dynamic. Yes, this show still suffers from a tendency to go for a cheap laugh at the expense of character, but here we see Hannigan and Harris working their way past caricature. They're sharp enough to retain their comedic edge while turning their roles into real people, provided the writing keeps up. And Jason Segel continues to do good supporting work as Marshall, so his subplots are not simply filler. So far, this series has been the comedy-for-people-who-are-willing-to-settle, but in veering away from its cutesy leads, there's a chance it could actually stake out some original gound. Historically, even good comedies have taken time to get traction, to establish characters sufficiently to be able to play off their individually, rather than just distribute punch lines. I've tuned in to this show on-and-off, hoping it will get better; finally, there's some supporting evidence.

* Some spoliers * The term "supporting cast" was never more appropriate than for "How I Met Your Mother," where everyone else on screen, including guest stars and extras, outshines purported lead Josh Radnor. But the usual sitcom formula demands that the whitebread leading man at least be likable. In this episode, we learn that Radnor's Ted is not. Ted broke up with a former girlfriend on her birthday, but now proclaims himself ready for a commitment. He tracks down his low self-esteem love, convinces her to take up with him again, then abruptly decides to drop her. Just as he is about to give her the kiss-off, he learns that it's her birthday. (You might think he would have remembered from ths first time, but that would be giving ted and writer Kourtney Kang too much credit.) Does Ted wait a day or two, or even until the end of dinner? No, he just goes ahead with the humiliation. It's so much funnier to do that in public. This is what happens when sitcom writers, and actors, go for the punchlines and sell out their characters. As Barney, Neil Patrick Harris is supposed to be a creep, but his tom catting about is less nauseating than Ted's smug angst about finding the perfect woman. Pros like Alyson Hannigan and Harris make this show watchable, but episodes like this drag make it the equivalent of "How I Met Your Mother the Car."

* Minor spoilers * Since this is a minority report I will, like the lazy writers of this episode, cut to the chase. After opening with some of the most impressive seasons of any show in television history, the revived and reimagined "Battlestar Galactica" completely runs out of imagination here. The escaping humans have found a habitable and apparently safe planet. The untrustworthy Gaius Baltar has won the election. Political changes also have occurred among the Cylons, influenced by two who have had close relationships with humans. Those were brilliant variations in the dynamic of the series to this point, promising a respite from the endless chase. While the space shoot-'em-ups have been thrilling, the continual pounce and escape was threatening to turn into Roadrunner v. Wile E. Coyote. We could still have action, "Deadwood" on a planetary scale as individual colonists rose to the challenge of making a new home, or not. There was the intrigue of how the Cylons, presumably a collective of sorts, respond when some of their number have different experiences and different ideas. How would the factions deal with each other? Would they change their approach to the human resistance on Caprica? Within these contexts, there were individual story lines in the process of developing. Instead of fleshing them out, we get the equivalent of Bobby Ewing in the shower. Until this point, I have been astounded at the degree to which this revival has surpassed its predecessor. The acting remains outstanding. Because of that built-up good well, I'm not yet willing to declare a shark jumping yet. But this episode illustrates why "Jumping the Shark" remains a useful concept.

<p>* Spoilers *</p>
<p> The final black-and-white installment, this is one of the most fully realized episodes of ‘The Avengers,’ although it’s strictly light comedy and so will not appeal to those looking for straightforward action. But the clever script, good supporting turns and/or scantily clad Diana Rigg make it memorable for many viewers.</p>
<p> By now, Patrick Macnee’s agent-about-town John Steed is impeccable, a smooth and seamless performance. As posh adventuress Emma Peel, Diana Rigg is a full partner in battling nefarious masterminds. She takes center stage in this installment. The chemistry between the actors and their characters is apparent from their first scene, which shows the two playfully returning to Steed’s flat apparently after a party. We’ve already seen two men shot up in a Middle Eastern room, and sure enough one of them staggers into Steed’s place, mumbles some clues and dies. All par for the course.</p>
<p> But Brian Clemens wrote any of the best _ and a few of the worst _ Avengers scripts and this time his typewriter was in full flight of fancy. In the course of their investigation, Steed and Mrs. Peel will encounter a bee surgeon, a very fanciful entreprenuer, a fey hitman, a cricket-loving prince and a pleasure-loving ne’er-do-well. </p>
<p> Anytime someone has a fantasy of being ‘chief eunuch in a harem,’ there are issues to be explored, and the bit players have a great time muddying the mystery further. Ron Moody, an occasional visitor to the show, has his best role as Ponsonby-Hopkirk, proprietor of Quite, Quite Fantastic, a dream emporium and the obvious forerunner of ‘Fantasy Island.” Ponsonby-Hopkirk and his business are quite benign, even if he doesn’t quite grasp the implications of arranging a fantasy assassination. Moody is at his best exhorting a killer to put more emotion into the presumed pretense.</p>
<p> Ken Parry also stands out as honey shop owner B Bumble, who looks like one of his charges. But how viewers take this may depend on their tolerance for whimsy. That’s even more true with Zia Mohyeddin as the prince of fictional Barabia, whose Anglophilia and low-key misogyny may be true to life however comedic the context.</p>
<p> One of the best lines I've read about ‘The Avengers’ is that it works best when the villains show a sense of humor, not when they are supposed to be funny. George Pastell makes Arkadi a sybaritic bon vivant, a sort of non-British version of John Steed. Cajoling Roland Curran as his henchman Vincent, Arkadi mimics the somewhat manipulative relationship Steed enjoys with Mrs. Peel. It doesn’t take much effort for Steed to talk her into dangerous situations, or out of many clothes. Both points are true of this episode.</p>
<p> As often happened, Macnee sits out much of the action. Although close-ups of the actor are inserted into an early fight scene, he generally left the heavy lifting to his co-stars. Stunt people handled most of that for Diana Rigg as well, but she at least participated in the fight scenes, especially here.</p>
<p> Steed convinces Mrs. Peel, as one reviewer put it, to go under not very much cover in Prince Ali’s harem. To do that, she has to do a dance of six veils in what was for the era very skimpy garb. In fact, in the prudish US, censors insisted Diana Rigg wear a jewel to prevent their conservative religious viewers from actually seeing a human navel on screen.</p>
<p> Wearing wispy Turkish trousers, little panties and a tiny bustier, Rigg performs an energetic if amateurish dance and a fast-paced if stagy fight scene. Again, viewer reactions depend on personal taste. In no sense are the dance or the fight convincing, but they are high-spirited. Although TV Guide editors chose her as the sexiest woman ever on television, her bustier exposes Diana Rigg as a contender for the dubious title of flattest woman in television history; even bent over to the waist, she has no cleavage. For those who prefer a different angle, however, her low-riding trousers show Rigg does have cleavage in the rear.</p>
<p> This may strike some readers as sacrilege, but Diana Rigg resembles Audrey Hepburn here. Usually, Rigg’s arch performing style is the antithesis of Hepburn’s sincerity, but in this case Rigg seems to be winking at the audience rather than condescending to it. While Hepburn’s classic personal style set a standard, Rigg’s mod gear was trend-setting in its era. Of course, no one would expect the classy Audrey to be doing hoochie-koochie dances and scimitar fights, but Rigg nevertheless performs with self-aware panache. Tugging up those sagging pants, she's endearing.</p>
<p> Physically, Diana was probably 15 pounds heavier than Audrey and so can’t compete with Hepburn’s wasp waist or tight buns. And if she’s graceful and attractive she's no match for Audrey’s delicate beauty. But otherwise they're very similar, something that's not altogether obvious when Rigg is in her usual kit of catsuit and padded bra. In a harem outfit emphasizing her long legs, exceptionally broad shoulders and almost non-existent tiny bosom, Diana Rigg presents the same silhouette as Hepburn.</p>
<p> In this comparison, Rigg falls about 10 percent short in all categories, but 90 percent of Audrey Hepburn is still pretty good. The same can be said for this episode. It may not be the best action-adventure spy show ever, but taken on its own terms, ‘Honey for the Prince’ is charming and engaging. If you’re in the mood for fluff that respects your intelligence, it’s well worth your time.</p>