Two months ago I published “Smoke Screen“, in which I reviewed a specific first-season episode of The Fugitive and had this to say about the series in general:
For those unfamiliar with the premise, Dr. Richard Kimble is wrongly convicted for the murder of his wife, but on his way to death row by train, “Fate moves its huge hand” and a derailment allows him to escape. For four years, Dr. Kimble, engagingly portrayed by David Janssen, moved around the country, trying to hide from the relentless Lt. Gerard (Barry Morse), the Inspector Javert-like cop obsessed with his recapture, while himself hunting the real murderer, a one-armed man he saw fleeing his house just before discovering his wife’s body…
As I watched the rest of the series over the course of those two months, I was struck by the degree to which that “huge hand” influenced Dr. Kimble’s life over the seven years from his wife’s murder (September 17th, 1960) to his eventual acquittal after the discovery of both the one-armed man and a reluctant witness (August 29th, 1967). It’s easy to joke about how the writers of a television show are gods who control the lives of the characters, and how certain characters become “butt-monkeys“, the ones typically made the victims of what the TV Tropes website calls “put them through hell” plotlines. But within the fictive universe inhabited by the characters, this is typically regarded as the result of blind chance or bad luck rather than the result of divine intervention, and we in the audience willingly suspend our disbelief of the improbability of anyone having so many adventures and misfortunes. In the case of The Fugitive, however, the writers appear to be subverting this trope, deliberately signaling to the audience that Fate or God is indeed manipulating Kimble’s life to fulfill some destiny or divine plan. From the opening narration of the first episode (see video below), we are clearly shown or even told in dialogue that there is something more than mere chance at work. In several dozen episodes there are sequences in which he escapes capture by mere moments, or misses a chance to escape misfortune by an equally narrow margin. And in the majority of episodes, Kimble’s apparently-random wanderings bring him into the lives of people who need him, either as a physician or just as a caring human being.
In the first-season episode “Angels Travel on Lonely Roads” the person is Sister Veronica, a Catholic nun, who is absolutely convinced that God arranged their meeting for their mutual benefit; in the fourth-season episode “The Breaking of the Habit” they meet again, and a priest at Sister Veronica’s school is equally convinced. In the earlier episode, the rational Dr. Kimble is inclined to dismiss being characterized as the tool of Providence and says as much, but after years of miraculous escapes and even being forced to save the life of his nemesis, Lt. Gerard, no less than four times, he is less skeptical about destiny. In another fourth-season episode, “Joshua’s Kingdom“, Kimble meets Joshua Simmons, an “only prayer can heal” religious fanatic whose underage daughter’s baby is close to death from a dangerous illness. After Kimble saves the child, Simmons says, “It can’t be God’s will. Not with doctors and medicine.” And Kimble replies, “How do you know I wasn’t sent here? Why did I come to this house, why did I come to this town? Do you know?” At the time of his first meeting with Sister Veronica, those words would have been mere rhetoric, but by the time he utters them they are heartfelt, and their obvious sincerity convinces Simmons.
It is, of course, not necessary to accept this framing to enjoy the show, though it certainly provides an in-universe explanation for how Dr. Kimble manages to avoid recapture for so long. But considering how traumatized he would be after two years of wrongful imprisonment and another five years as a fugitive, perhaps it provides some spiritual solace and hope of emotional recovery for a good, decent, highly-principled character the viewer has come to respect and care about.
