A poised 1960s adventuress and her dignified gorilla companion investigate haunted estates, criminal conspiracies, and supernatural oddities — with martinis, military discipline, and absolutely no acknowledgment that one of them is an ape.
Title sequence & pilot tease available on request
The world is ridiculous. The characters are not.
Audra is the lead. Glamorous, composed, more capable than anyone expects — a real 1960s adventure heroine, not a sidekick. She investigates, charms, decodes, and handles herself in a fight. She is the person who understands the situation before everyone else does.
The Colonel is her partner. He is a dignified retired British military officer. He is also a gorilla. Both of those things are true, and the show's only rule is that no one mentions it. No origin story. No curse. No quiet B-plot about putting him back. He simply is what he is, and the world around him has, with admirable professionalism, agreed to behave.
The Colonel is performed as a man in a gorilla suit — and never as an animal. Human posture. Limited movement. Clipped, dry, weary military speech. He is funnier the less he does. He is the still point in every scene; everyone else can panic, scheme, faint, or monologue around him.
The container is a lost 1960s British television adventure — haunted estates, séances, embassy receptions, secret rocket bases, society clubs with terrible passwords. The grammar is period-correct: locked-off compositions, theatrical blocking, painted backdrops, the slow dolly. The stronger the 1960s TV grammar, the better the absurdity plays.
It is, deliberately, an artifact from a television past that never quite happened. Played as if it had.
Made to feel like an episode that aired once and was misfiled. Velvet curtains. Painted backdrops. Theatrical coloured lighting. Symmetrical mansion interiors. The camera is deliberate — locked-off two-shots, formal blocking, slow dollies into a window or a clue. No modern shaky-cam, no Marvel coverage, no glossy CGI. Two modes share the show: cinematic period adventure for the scenes themselves, and bold pop-art poster design for titles, transitions, and merch. The more composed the frame, the funnier the Colonel becomes.
Sample cases · subject to change