I certainly hope that we someday get a true encyclopedia of TV noir, given the abundance of material that is out there to be definitely archived. Essays such as yours should be part of a true anthology that covers an entire "filmography" from the late 40s into the mid-late 60s, with essays and images. As will be partially clear from my excerpt taken from a thread about Allen Glover's 2019 book (originally discovered and touted by Carl), we still need a volume along the lines described:
Re: New encyclopedia "TV Noir" (follow-up after receipt)
Posted by Don Malcolm on 12/10/2019, 8:14 am, in reply to "Re: New encyclopedia "TV Noir""
Still browsing through this book after just receiving a copy, but definitely concur with Carl that Allen Glover has done an excellent job of tying TV noir to its antecedents, and carrying the story forward into the 1970s. (References to "TV noir" in more recent times appear spotty, though there's at least a picture of Kristen Bell as Veronica Mars, so I suspect that a more careful reading will uncover some level of reference to what Allen would probably call "TV post-neo noir.")
Of course it is in no way comprehensive in the way that Gord is--no master list of TV noir here (an appendix that would take a couple hundred pages in its own right). But he hits the key points and examples extremely well, in sufficient detail and with a nuanced approach to what makes each show unique in its application/appropriation of noir principles.
Definitely recommended to any and all with even a smidge of interest in "noir on the small screen." Nicely designed as well, with an interesting photo selection (the publisher is Abrams). There was obviously a compromise made between full-on coffee table book and standard text, but it's been handled very well.
In the section of Glover's book that deals with private eye series, he focuses on four: Peter Gunn, Richard Diamond, Johnny Staccato, 77 Sunset Strip. Due to the fact that both Gunn and Diamond were created by Blake Edwards, Glover devotes a chapter to a comparison of them, focusing on Edwards' hero-worship of Raymond Chandler, and tying many of the TV private eyes to the Marlowe personality. In the 77 Sunset Strip chapter, he reminds us that Stu Bailey was originally a standalone private eye (featured the 1948 film I LOVE TROUBLE), and recounts the disastrous decision made in 1963 by Jack Webb and William Conrad to revamp the show's successful "martini-noir" format back into a Marlowe-like lone wolf detective.
It's a worthy read, but we still need a true "TV noir encyclopedia."