sdiner82 Reviews

Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams (1973)

Beautiful, but studio interference lessened its impact

[9/10 · 29 January 2023]

Having worked on "Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams" 50 years ago as the Unit Publicist (that's the person who is in charge of a movie's publicity while it is being filmed), this was only my third job in this field, and remains my absolute favorite. During the 3-month shoot, I actually became friends with several members of the cast and crew, the nicest, most harmonious group of people I had ever worked with. I had always been a fan of Joanne Woodward, who went out of her way to be kind to me and we kept in touch for several years after the movie wrapped. She was completely down-to-earth, warm-hearted, had a terrific sense of humor, and was far more beautiful in person than she was ever allowed to be in most of her movies. Stewart Stern was a lovely man, a brilliant writer, and we also remained friends. The director, Gil Cates, gave everyone a beautiful sterling-silver Tiffanys key chain at the wrap party and when he screened the movie for us after he had finished editing it, I honestly thought it would be acclaimed as one of 1973's finest, award-winning films. The running time of Cates' cut was 112 minutes which, to me, seemed perfect. Unfortunately, as was a custom in those bygone days, the studio had a "sneak preview" of the movie at a theater in New Jersey that was showing a raucous slapstick comedy so the audience was in no mood to watch a serious, emotional drama like SWWD and the cards they filled out were mostly unfavorable. But Columbia took this nonsense seriously and ordered the movie's creative team to cut the movie down to a more "palatable" 90 minutes. Reluctantly, the director and writer (Cates & Stern) went back to the editing room and when I saw the 92-minute release print, I was horrified. Far too many crucial scenes had either been deleted or shortened, and Sylvia Sidney's scenes were so drastically shortened that her screen time now amounted to little more than 5 minutes! Of course I was thrilled to receive my first screen credit, but somehow the fact that my name was misspelled seemed appropriate! Despite the studio's butchery, "Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams" still pleased most critics and won a few awards, but I still can't help think how much more enthusiastic its reception would have been had the far more nuanced 112-minute version been released. Scott MacDonough 1/28/2023

January 29, 2023 at 3:29 AM.

The Golden Girls: The Commitments (1992) Season 7, Episode 15

Surprisingly tender and touching.

[10/10 · 17 July 2022]

One of my favorite episodes thanks to memorable performances by Rue and Ken Howard. Dorothy's hot affair with an actor who impersonates George in a performance of Beatlemania gets expected laughs. But it's Blanch's thwarted attempts to seduce a blind date (beautifully portrayed by Ken Howard) that leads this episode into unexpected areas of genuine tenderness and romance. The writers outdid themselves with this exceptional episode: the final two words, uttered by Blanch, just might break your heart.

Barnaby Jones: Design for Madness (1979) Season 8, Episode 5

First-rate episode as Buddy Ebsen plays the lead!

[8/10 · 27 April 2022]

Frankly, I am sick and tired of the two IMDB critics who regularly gripe about JR and Betty "hogging" the last few seasons of BARNABY JONES while Buddy Ebsen is reduced to a supporting player in his own show. Had these two whiners bothered to read the show's coverage in IMDB, they would learn that after the first four seasons, it was Ebsen himself who liked the work done by his co-stars Mark Shera and the glorious Lee Meredith that he told ABC to change the show's format whereby he, Lee and Mark would each play the lead in one-third of the season's shows, thereby giving his younger co-stars a chance to shine while he himself (who was no spring chicken) had more time off to relax and enjoy his advancing years. What actually happened, however, was that Betty and/or JR took on the lead roles in most of the episodes while in many cases, Ebsen literally phoned in his limited scenes in many of the episodes, which also allowed the show's formidable guest stars more time to develop their characters. And while it took me (and apparently the other two Pauline Kael wannabees) longer than seemed necessary to warm up to the character of JR (which I blame entirely on the writers, not on poor Mark Shera who was stuck with delivering the often obnoxious lines of dialogue he was forced to deliver), I had a serious crush on the lovely, warm-hearted, deliciously humorous Lee Meriwether since the very first episode and, after the first 4 seasons where she was given little to do, I was overjoyed to see her promoted to a full-fledged private eye, a role she played with such class and conviction that I enjoyed her shows even more than the ones with Buddy Ebsen!

All of which brings me to express my opinion of "Design for Madness", a gripping, first-rate episode played to the hilt by Mr. Ebsen which should be a cause for celebration by his legions of fans. In this outing, JR and Betty are reduced to bit parts as Barnaby tries to figure out exactly why his favorite niece (who he hasn't seen in years and has just been released after a year's stay in a mental sanitarium) seems to be verging on insanity and subject to blackouts during one of which she's looking guilty of murdering one of her alleged relatives involved in looking after her multi-million-dollar estate. Since I always avoid mentioning spoilers, I'll say no more so the viewer can enjoy every twist and turn of its insidiously suspenseful plot. I must, however, hurl a brickbat at MeTV for the shoddy treatment iwith which it is currently presenting the entire "Barnaby Jones" series. By finally showing the Perry Mason edpisodes in their entirety earlier in the evening, MeTV has added 5 minutes to the PM hours. But in order to telecast Perry Mason from 11:30 PM-12:35 AM, MeTV has seen fit to cram Barnaby Jones into a 55-minute time slot. Subtract another 10 minutes for an avalanche of non-stop commercials and station breaks, and each BJ episode which originally ran for 52 minutes in the 1970s has been butchered to approximately 40 minutes! For shame, MeTV, for shame!

Alfred Hitchcock Presents: A Night with the Boys (1959) Season 4, Episode 30

Clever, lighthearted fun; John Smith (remember him?) is terrific!

[10/10 · 14 April 2020]

The credit for this delightfully endearing change-of-pace for the usually morbid, mean-spirited shenanigans of Hitchcock's classic 30-minute escapades goes entirely to the stellar performance by John Smith who perfectly embodies the nice-guy decency of a hard-working young husband who foolishly gambles away his weekly salary in a (probably 'fixed') game of poker with his sleazy boss and co-workers. How he manages to retrieve the $92 he desperately needs to pay for the medical bills for his pregnant wife (sweetly played by Joyce Meadows) leads to a deftly presented series of happy accidents, capped by a nifty twist ending the talented young Smith responds to with a perfect mixture of bewilderment and dawning realization that, on rare occasions, nice guys do indeed finish first. The only mystery of "A Night with the Boys" regards John Smith's career. After making an impressive film debut at 23 as the concerned newlywed in John Wayne's blockbuster "The High and the Mighty", Smith seem primed to quickly emerge as one of the top young leading men of the decade. Not only did he have the tall blond All-American good looks (and perfect physique) of a Tab Hunter, but he also was a first-rate trained actor. His obvious sincerity and athletic prowess endeared him to moviegoers of all ages, yet most of his movies were difficult to find on the bottom end of double bills. And on the rare occasion when he landed a part in a mainstream movie of top quality, the filmmakers seemed far less interested in his acting ability than in making sure he doffed his shirt so the camera could explore the topography of his muscular physique (a perfect example was "Friendly Persuasion"; rather than cast him in the lead role of Gary Cooper's Quaker son (a star-making breakthrough for which he was more than capable), he was merely allotted roughly 5 minutes participating in a grueling wrestling scene where the camera once again zoomed in to explore his shirtless physicality). Towards the end of the 1950s, he did achieve lead roles, but such black-and-white quickies as "Island of Lost Women" and "Women of Pitcairn Island" were virtually interchangeable. Ultimately, 2 Western TV series proved to be his career salvation. "Cimarron City", an expensive, critically acclaimed series teaming him with George Montgomery and Audrey Totter, should have been Smith's shining hour and would have been had not the dolts at CBS programmed it opposite the most popular show of its time, NBC's "Bonanza". "City" was therefore cancelled before it had even completed its first season, but at least it led to what John Smith is chiefly remembered for--"Laredo", a ratings smash that ran for 4 seasons and finally made Mr. Smith and his co-star (and best friend) Robert Fuller international stars. A return to theatrical films seemed the next step. But when John Wayne, who had given John Smith his first breakthrough movie a decade earlier (and reportedly signed Smith to a personal contract) cast the still-quite-young Smith as the young male lead opposite Wayne, Rita Hayworth and Claudia Cardinale in the costly blockbuster "Circus World", the film bombed, Smith was relegated to 'guest' stints in mediocre TV shows, retired from acting at 40, and was not heard of until the NYTimes noted his death at age 63. I only bring this up by way of thanking MeTV (and several other cable-TV channels) for airing not only classic but long-forgotten TV series of the past. And by doing so, they remind me of so many actors and actresses I admired during my childhood. My thanks also to IMDB for providing the answers whenever I wonder "Whatever Happened To . . ."? I must have been around 8 or 9 when I had the audacity to write to some of these people I especially liked and requesting that they send me autographed photographs. It didn't take me long to realize that the recipients of my fan mail never even read, much less received, my letters which were instead intercepted and forwarded to the publicity department of whatever studio had the particular movie star under contract. And responded to my letters by sending me a postage-stamped-sized photo and fake thank-you note. Nevertheless, I persisted in explaining to each person exactly what I liked about them and their movies that made me so happy. And to my great surprise, a few of them actually did read my letters and wrote back to me on their personal stationary, using fountain pens (!) and autographing 5x7 photographs. Among them: Kathryn Grayson, Dewey Martin, and John Smith.

Mannix: A Ticket to the Eclipse (1970) Season 4, Episode 1

There's a difference between tension and sadism . . .

[1/10 · 8 April 2020]

. . . and this rock-bottom "Mannix" episode is only for viewers whose idea of a fun time is pulling the wings off a fly. A fatally miscast Darren McGavin plays a psychotic Korean War veteran who is systematically slaughtering the members of his unit who testified against him (Mannix included) when he was tried for homicide. That's what there is of a plot as the episode zooms in on one gratuitous murder after another. The idiotic script is full of more holes than any of McGavin's victims and, towards the end, when Mannix fears for Peggy's life and tells her to seek refuge at a remote cabin with her young son, you weren't by any chance expecting McGavin to be there waiting for them were you? Another armchair critic called this an unofficial remake of "Cape Fear". I sincerely hope he (or she) wasn't referring to the terrifying 1962 Peck/Mitchum classic but to Scorsese's blood-soaked, laughably inept 1990 remake whose low point was the sight of Robert DeNiro in drag. "Mannix" was hardly one of TV's more memorable private-eye shows and why MeTV insists on repeating its re-runs (while pulling the plug on the still-terrific "77 Sunset Strip" after 2 short years) is a mystery far more baffling than any of the plots of its mediocre episodes.

77 Sunset Strip: The Heartbeat Caper (1963) Season 5, Episode 30

The last collegiate caper . . .

[5/10 · 2 April 2019]

Once again--and for the last time--77 SUNSET STRIP goes back to college. But instead of Roger Smith and Edd Byrnes going undercover by posing as college students (and giving Warner Bros. the opportunity to showcase its bright new contracted actors like Chad Everett and Connie Stevens), "The Heartbeat Caper" sends Efrem Zimbalist Jr. to deliver a lecture on criminology to a campus where one of the school's most popular coeds "accidentally" fell off a trysting place called Lovers Leap quickly followed by the murder of her football-jock boyfriend. So whodunnit? Could it possibly be Andrew Duggan, the chairman of the Archeology Dept. and an old friend of Zimbalist's? That's what I thought, and I was wrong. I was also wrong in thinking that since the 5th season of this terrific series would be its last, it was high time the likeable Robert Logan (who replaced Kookie as the parking lot attendant at Dino's and was exactly the right age to be a college student) would finally play the lead in one of the series' few remaining episodes. Wrong again! As for the episode itself, despite a few mildly suspenseful moments, far too much time was devoted to Prof. Duggan showing off the wonders of a new invention called a lie-detector and the supporting cast of actors portraying the students and faculty members seemed as disinterested in the goings-on as Zimbalist himself. Gone was the light touch and dry sense of humor that had made "77 Sunset Strip" the finest of any TV private-eye series. And the brief cameos by Roger Smith and Edd Byrnes only served as a reminder of how a once-great series had succumbed to mediocrity not worthy of the wonderful actors who were responsible for its well-deserved popularity.

77 Sunset Strip: The College Caper (1961) Season 3, Episode 19

Kookie Goes to College? A fun episode!

[9/10 · 27 November 2018]

Once again, "77 Sunset Strip" goes to college but this time it isn't Roger Smith posing as a student to crack Bailey & Spencer's latest case. Instead, Efrem Zimbalist and Edd Byrnes share the honors, the former impersonating a professor of Geology (about which he knows nothing) and Kookie as a transfer student (who happens to be a terrific football player). The reason for this grand deception? A notorious gangster's worst enemy has just been released from prison and notifies him that to get revenge for a past "injustice", he is going to murder the gangster's son currently enrolled in a nearby college where he is not only an All-American football hero but the most popular boy on the coed campus. But here's the catch: This kid has no idea who his dad is because his mother who raised him told him his father was deceased. And his dad wants to keep things that way, fearful that if the son he loves so much ever knew his true identity, he'd be scarred for life (especially when we learn that junior is studying to be a lawyer!). So, with the full cooperation of the college's president, Zimbalist is installed as the school's Geology prof while arrangements are made for Kookie to be the boy's bodyguard (and roommate and member of the football team where this gifted fellow is the star player). That's the set-up and I'll go no further except to mention it's a first-rate episode where things don't quite come off as you might expect. Of special note are two of the young actors in co-starring roles. 23-year-old newcomer Chad Everett (already signed to a Warner Bros. contract) is perfectly cast as the gangster's son (and would make two more appearances in the series, playing a bad guy in one of them). Though deprived of any heavily dramatic scenes, his cleancut good looks, charisma and easy-going appeal so strongly resembled the young Paul Newman that a bright future in movies and TV seemed guaranteed. And in a role so small he received no screen credit, 19-year-old Robert Logan (as one of the college students) so impressed the Warner Bros. execs that he soon joined "77 Sunset Strip" as a regular, replacing Edd Byrnes as the parking lot attendant at Dino's Lounge when Kookie was promoted to a starring role as one of the private detectives. In fact, the only element missing from this episode was the lack of gorgeous blonde starlets usually employed to display their charms in supporting roles. No matter. Jacqueline Beer as the detectives' secretary/receptionist, though virtually ignored when the show was originally telecast, was actually the most beautiful and bewitching young lady to ever grace "77 Sunset Strip". Her few scenes at the beginning of the episode are enough to bring to it her very special luster. Small wonder that in a previous episode, Roger Smith's Jeff Spencer fell deeply in love with her and even asked her to marry him. The title of that episode escapes me, but the chemistry and romantic sparks set off by Ms. Beer & Mr. Smith I'll always remember!

77 Sunset Strip: The Double Death of Benny Markham (1960) Season 3, Episode 11

Off-beat episode tries for pathos--and actually achieves it!

[9/10 · 15 November 2018]

In the 11th episode of its 3rd season, "77 Sunset Strip" tries for something different--pathos--and achieves just that without ever becoming maudlin. Credit must go to Roger Smith who has always seemed the most compassionate of the group, and though now only 27, appears to be handsomer and in even better shape than when the series began when he was a mere 25. Nor should I need to remind his fans that the writers, as with nearly every episode, always remember to include a scene that requires Smith to remove his shirt! This time, while he's in London, his diminutive, lovable, leprechaun-like friend Benny Markham comes to him asking his help. Benny has just made off with an isotope the man who hired him neglected to tell him is radioactive, and despite Jeff's immediately rushing him to seek medical help, is told by the physician that Benny has only two weeks to live. After making sure the sympathetic doctor aids Benny with the necessary drugs to help alleviate his failing eyesight and pain, Jeff poses as an intimidating Canadian in a complicated scheme to bring to justice the heartless man responsible for Benny's impending death. It's an action-packed episode tainted with the knowledge that its outcome will be expectedly sad. And Smith & Walter Burke (the terrific Irish-American character actor who plays the doomed Benny) enact it with such subtle empathy that the writers' ill-advised attempt to end it on a light-hearted note by adding a scene of Kookie snuggling with an anonymous cutie in his telephone-equipped convertible (!) simply doesn't work. Otherwise, this unusual episode of "77 Sunset Strip" is more than well-worth watching with kudos to Smith & Burke for making their 'Odd Couple' friendship not only credible but, at times, unexpectedly touching.

77 Sunset Strip: The Office Caper (1960) Season 3, Episode 4

Nifty, tongue-in-cheek fun. Suzanne shines!

[10/10 · 7 November 2018]

Any episode of "77 Sunset Strip" that gives the delightful Suzanne (French actress Jacqueline Beer), Bailey & Spencer's office receptionist and secretary, more to do than merely answer the phones and take notes, is worth checking out. And THE OFFICE CAPER is worth watching for a number of other reasons. Perhaps the show's variety of locations ran over-budget and the writers were ordered to create an episode on the cheap. Whatever the reasons, the inspired scribes turned this limitation to their advantage and, by basically keeping the action confined to the parking lot (Edd Byrnes settled his months-long strike with Warner Bros. & seems glad to be back as Kookie) and the interior of the private detectives' swank office, cranked out one of the funniest, tongue-in-cheek episodes of the series. Planning some kind of robbery, a small-time hood hires two of the most-unlikely cohorts to drive the getaway car. The male half of this odd couple is the likably inept Richard Jaeckel (at 34 and still baby-faced as he would remain for the rest of his career) and his tough-as-nails gun moll (yes, that's Danny Thomas' "Make Room for Daddy" daughter Sherry Jackson now, at 18, all grown up and nearly bursting out of her tight sweaters with what must be a 40-inch bust!). Fortunately, the private eye on hand is Roger Smith (to me, the most appealing of the regulars who leavens his drop-dead good-looks with his droll, self-effacing sense of humor). The chemistry between Suzanne and Jeff has always been palpable (in one serious episode, they fall in love and Jeff proposes marriage to her) so who better to participate in the no-holds-barred brawl that's the episode's climax. And the other reviewer who says he still remembers from age 12 that the encounter between the two lovely ladies is a "catfight" can be forgiven for his faulty--albeit colorful--memory. Suzanne actually saves Jeff's life; when Ms. Jackson points her gun at him, preparing to fire off a fatal bullet, the feisty Suzanne intervenes, socking Sherry in the kisser, but their (or their stunt-women's) subsequent tussle is no "catfight". There's no hair-pulling or screaming; their fist-fight is dead serious. Or as serious as this looney episode gets. In short, fans of this terrific series shouldn't miss THE OFFICE CAPER. It's definitely a keeper!

77 Sunset Strip: Perfect Setup (1960) Season 2, Episode 33

Breezy, diverting showcase for Roger Smith

[10/10 · 26 October 2018]

Undeterred by a writer's strike and the Ed Byrnes strike, the Sunset Strip team simply refurbished an episode from the show's first season and turned it into a well-deserved showcase for the many talents of Roger Smith. Posing as a narcissistic none-too-bright beach bum, with a slicked-back hairstyle and a wardrobe consisting of little more than bathing trunks, Jeff travels to a remote Hawaiian island to investigate whether a wanted fugitive is hiding out there. Getting a job as the entertainer at the local hotel gives Smith the chance to accompany himself on the guitar and show off his fine baritone voice crooning four songs, one of which he composed himself, another a dandy duet where he and Connie Stevens (Cricket of Warner Bros.' other private eye series "Hawaiian Eye") perform a delicious rendition of the catchy "I Like the Likes of You". But she (and her "Eye" co-stars Anthony Eisley and Poncie Ponce) are only on hand for cameos. The village's luscious femme fatale (the gorgeous Myrna Hansen) wastes no time spinning a seductive web around the seemingly innocent newcomer, obviously impressed by his enviable physique as much as by his romantic vocalizing. And when she offers to give him a tour of the island, they wind up playfully swimming in a lagoon, a sight we haven't seen the likes of since the heyday of Dorothy Lamour and Jon Hall. But when she tries to slip an exotic ring on one of Jeff's fingers, he resists, claiming that "it's too tight", totally unaware that she and her scheming young lover (Skip Ward) are planning to murder Jeff that night and shoot his smiling face beyond recognition so that they can pass his corpse off as Ward's while they flee the island $150,000 richer (the amount of the loot delivered in cash on a monthly basis to pay the salaries of the hotel's staff). To avoid any spoilers, I'll simply add that two more characters figure in the plot: Warren Stevens (as the local policeman who involves Jeff in a no-holds-barred fist fight) and Joyce Meadows (as an American tourist Ward married when he mistakenly thought she was a wealthy heiress, and then promptly ditched when he found out she was as penniless as he was). Need I add that since Ms. Meadows wears glasses, she is considered homely, but when she removes her spectacles at the very end of the story, WOW!!!).

I hope I haven't made PERFECT SETUP sound unpleasant because of its gleefully lurid plot. Quite the opposite, it's as perfect an hour of sheer escapism as 77 SUNSET STRIP.has offered. Sure, the closest the cast gets to Hawaii is the Warner Bros. backlot in Burbank but who cares? The twists and turns of its frantic pace will have your head spinning, and its still every bit as sexy, clever and good-natured as it was nearly 60 years ago! Every member of the cast seems to be having the time of their lives, no one more so than Roger Smith whose droll, self-effacing sense of humor is one of the highlights of the entire series. Smith was also a first-rate writer who penned several of the show's finest episodes (including one with absolutely no dialogue, another an hilarious spoof wherein the three male leads lampoon each other as well as themselves). He was also James Cagney's protégé and a consummate (albeit underrated) talent in his own right!

77 Sunset Strip: The Odds on Odette (1962) Season 5, Episode 11

A murky, muddled misfire; Roger Smith singlehandedly saves it.

[5/10 · 24 May 2018]

Even a terrific show like "77 Sunset Strip" occasionally fell victim to a hopeless script, and "The Odds on Odette" is one of them. It's certainly one of the murkiest episodes of the series: most of it takes place at night, but even the daytime interiors seem shrouded in darkness. And for reasons I don't understand, guest star Merry Anders, an attractive blonde who brightened many a TV episode and 'B' movie of the late-1950s-early-1960s, is here forced to forego her customary brightness by tucking her blonde tresses underneath an unbecoming, frumpy black wig. What is going on here? You won't find any satisfactory answers (much less suspense) in the muddled, incomprehensible script, a hodgepodge having to do with some astrologists involved in a moneymaking scheme (or scam). And even when that brilliantly sinister character actor Henry Daniell shows up and we expect his presence to kick some life into this dud, our hopes are completely dashed when he is quickly kicked down a flight of stairs to his death! So why go on? Simply for one significant reason. The private eye assigned to this dreary case is Jeff Spencer and while Roger Smith is deprived on this occasion of even cracking a smile, he once again proves why he is the most valuable member of the 77 Sunset team. Though still in his 20s as this classic TV hit nears its end, this dashingly handsome, quick-witted, self-deprecating and woefully underrated young actor has brought more genuine high spirits, sincerity, and a classy romantic panache to "77 Sunset Strip" than all of his other colleagues combined. The 7 scripts he either wrote or co-wrote are among the finest, most original of the entire series, Moreover, when least expected, Roger Smith often accompanied himself on his guitar, revealing his fine baritone voice. And when confronted with an impossible script like the one for "The Odds on Odette", instead of throwing a hissy fit like the stars of other hit TV series often did, Smith was the ultimate professional, keeping whatever complaints he may have had to himself and managing to give a solid performance despite the shortcomings of the material he was given to work with. For this reason alone, I'm giving "The Odds of Odette" a higher rating than it actually deserves. And for Roger Smith's many admirers, I highly recommend it!

77 Sunset Strip: The Rice Estate (1960) Season 3, Episode 16

A must-see episode for devoted fans of the "Strip"!

[10/10 · 9 February 2018]

"The Rice Estate" is a deceptively bland title for this terrific, innovative episode of my favorite private-detective series, as much fun today as it was 58 years ago. It begins promisingly enough, with Efrem Zimbalist summoned on a dark and stormy night to an isolated mansion whose sole inhabitant, the delicious Peggy McKay, has been scared out of her wits by a series of letters and phone calls threatening her with death if she dares to sell the palatial estate she has just inherited from its eccentric, recently-departed owner. But what follows, instead of the expected whodunit, is a series of events that include every single element that have made this TV show so memorably unique: For starters, it's not solely Zimbalist's case; when he and McKay quickly find themselves falling in love, they throw an impromptu midnight masquerade champagne cocktail party that very same night. Among the guests are every single member of the "77" team, including Roger Smith (who shows off his impressive singing talents by accompanying himself on his guitar and delivering a fine version of the standard "Just One of Those Things"; Edd Byrnes (who saves Efrem's life by instigating a fist fight that finally reveals the identity of the villain); Louis Quinn (a riot, as always); and the delectable Jacqueline Beer (the French actress who portrays the boys' good-natured secretary/receptionist Suzanne, and gets to say the show's priceless final lines, an hilarious plug for one of Warner Bros.' popular-at-the-time TV Westerns).

I must add my belated thanks to Montgomery Pittman, a gifted writer/director responsible for several of the show's finest episodes (who died tragically at the young age of 45). Also, this episode is refreshingly free of murders, and the mayhem is kept to a humorous minimum, albeit there is no shortage of suspense. It is also, I believe, the first (and possibly last) chapter in the series where Zimbalist actually falls in love with one of his clients (in another outstanding, similarly touching episode, Roger Smith & Ms. Beer realize they are deeply in love and Smith asks her to marry him). The exterior and interiors of the palatial mansion are a set-designer's eye-filling dream.

Best of all, "The Rice Estate" captures the obvious warmth and comradery the entire cast of "77 Sunset Strip" had for each other. Whether intentional or not, the fact that this episode was originally telecast only one day before New Year;s Eve of 1960 seems highly appropriate. When "The Rice Estate" was filmed, "77 Sunset Strip" was at the peak of its popularity, but its abundance of high spirits and sheer all-out fun are usually only found in a hit show or movie's celebrated (but never filmed) 'Wrap Party'!

77 Sunset Strip: Nightmare (1962) Season 4, Episode 40

Homage to Hitchcock's "Spellbound" and a series highlight

[10/10 · 26 July 2017]

A man cloaked in black pursues a terrified young blonde who, despite a series of surreal obstacles (a giant metal fence, a lace woman's handkerchief, a huge hour glass, an abandoned dark alley, a sharp Florentine dagger), manages to elude him until he catches up with her and plunges the dagger into her back. (This sequence is so realistic it takes you a moment or two to re-focus your vision and realize it's brilliantly animated, not unlike Dali's contribution to Hitchcock's "Spellbound".) CUT TO: A handsome young man waking up in his bed from a horrible nightmare, drenched in sweat, his shaking hands clutching his head. CUT TO: That same man we learn is an artist, talking to his psychiatrist (a bespectacled blonde female of indeterminate age, speaking to him in dulcet though somewhat sinister tones). He tells her he's been having the same nightmare for the past few weeks, following a traumatic incident in his life, the details of which he has no memory, except that he is the man in this recurring nightmare and he is tortured by the fact that he knows it was himself who murdered the alluring blonde victim. After he leaves her office, the psychiatrist picks up her telephone and dials the number of:

Jeff Spencer! Welcome to the latest episode of "77 Sunset Strip", a more-than-welcome return to form following several episodes in this fourth season so mediocre that they're not worth commenting on. And I'm not giving away anything more about the plot except to say it entangles Spencer (at first skeptical about this bizarre situation, then downright sympathetic once he meets and befriends the tortured artist) into a labyrinth of puzzling clues, a creepy assortment of supporting characters, real-life incidents as startling as those in the artist's nightmare, and finally a satisfying conclusion, capped by a double-twist one-minute romantic postscript.

None of this would have worked were it not for the inspired casting and wonderful performances by the entire cast. Despite brief (and unnecessary) cameos by Efrem Zimbalist Jr. & Edd Byrnes, it's Roger Smith's show all the way and, as always, he comes up trumps. (How tragic that Smith's acting career was terminated after only a few more years, first by one, later on by another, nearly fatal illnesses, though his 50-year-marriage to Ann-Margret remains one of Hollywood's most inspiring, mostly untold love stories.) Another highly underrated actor, Peter Breck (soon to achieve TV stardom with "The Big Valley"), is terrific as the tormented artist. Stunning Norwegian actress Anna-Lisa keeps looking younger with each scene as the psychiatrist, and Andrea King (one of Warner Bros.' most popular leading ladies of the 1940s, now an equally fetching character actress) is a hoot as a self-proclaimed friend of the missing (murdered?) girl of Mr. Breck's nightmares, her ravenous appetite for gossip unwittingly providing Jeff with clues vital to his solution of this baffling mystery.

"Nightmare" has such a tantalizing, incident-and-character-filled plot that it easily could have been expanded into a 2-hour theatrical movie. That the cast and crew of "77 Sunset Strip" manage to compress it into a fast-paced 52-minute television episode (without sacrificing the in-depth characterizations and nuances necessary to make such a complex thriller so gripping) is a testament to their professionalism and expertise at their craft.

77 Sunset Strip: Framework for a Badge (1962) Season 4, Episode 37

Surprisingly brutal episode, fine performances save it

[7/10 · 21 July 2017]

With "77 Sunset Strip" nearing the end of its fourth season, someone at Warner Bros. apparently felt the series needed a change-of-pace, and the result must have come as somewhat as a shock to its loyal viewers. The set-up is fine, finally promoting Jeff Spencer's pal, police Lt. Gilmore, to the lead role. This time, however, it's the cop who needs the private eye's help when a powerful homicidal mobster tries to pin the blame for a murder he committed on Lt. Gilmore! Sounds silly, but it's played dead seriously and, up to a point, it's a surprisingly gripping if downright nasty episode as the monstrous mobster terrifies Gilmore's wife with threatening phone calls regarding the safety of the Gilmores' teenage daughter who's away from home attending a private school. Fortunately, this potentially stomach-turning subplot is quickly dropped, but what transpires is still quite sickening with the graphically depicted murders of two of the mobster's cronies, one of them being a rather endearing blonde floozy whose gruesome murder seems purely gratuitous, especially when the camera doesn't have the decency to pan away from her demise but instead stays focused on the poor sobbing girl, almost taking a fiendish delight as she screams, takes a bullet in the chest, and slowly slumps to the floor.

If you think I'm insinuating that this episode goes way over the top as far as good taste is concerned, you're absolutely correct. One of the main pleasures about this series was that it never took itself too seriously, always keeping an appealingly light-hearted tone and a subtle sense of humor that made every episode so much fun. "Framework for a Badge" is no fun at all, leaving the viewer with a bad taste in the mouth. But that's not to say there aren't compensations that still make it worth watching: The script is taut and tight (I blame the director for trashing it); the Ivy-League-handsome Roger Smith is always a welcome presence, enhancing every episode he's in by portraying Jeff Spencer as a sensitive, quick-witted, good-hearted heartthrob; and the entire cast deserves praise for their uniformly excellent performances, among them Byron Keith (always terrific as Jeff's policeman buddy); Irene Hervey (the lovely leading lady of many 'B' movies of the '30s and '40s, now still luminous in her late 40s and downright heartbreaking as the policeman's distraught wife; and Tom Drake as the mobster's shifty lawyer only 18 years older than when he achieved stardom as Judy Garland's dreamy "Boy Next Door" in the classic "Meet Me in St. Louis", his good looks long gone, and his now-ravaged face, at only 43, betraying his years of heavy drinking that ironically qualified him for a career as a first-rate character actor.

77 Sunset Strip: Ghost of a Memory (1962) Season 4, Episode 31

Mediocre script but Roger Smith makes it watchable

[6/10 · 13 July 2017]

When a popular 24-year-old singing sensation is killed in a plane crash, his fans go into mourning and his wheelchair-impaired widow gets scared out of her wits when she receives phone calls from her dead hubby telling her he wants her to join him. Good thing she calls the '77 SS' private eye agency for help, and good thing for the viewer that Roger Smith takes her case. With a tantalizing set-up like this one, the possibilities for creepy suspense and a bang-up finale seem inevitable. Unfortunately, the uninspired script and hack direction sink this below-par episode in a usually terrific series. Fortunately, however, the always reliable and enormously likable Roger Smith is on hand to single-handedly salvage the show with his droll sense of humor and infectious panache.

77 Sunset Strip: The Desert Spa Caper (1961) Season 4, Episode 2

Delicious fun as Suzanne solves a whodunnit at a desert spa

[10/10 · 3 June 2017]

At long last, the second episode of the fourth season puts the spotlight on the glorious Suzanne (the delectable young French actress Jacqueline Beer who plays the private detectives' office receptionist), resulting in one of the most riveting episodes of the entire series. It seems that, following the mysterious death of a womanizing male superstar (never seen but obviously a fictionalized Errol Flynn), his on-and-off screen leading lady (the ravishing Kathleen Crowley who brings an unexpected poignancy to her role)has hit the bottle and is now a full-fledged alcoholic and virtually unemployable. But her studio decides to give her one last chance--starring in a major movie but only on the condition that she cleans up her act before filming starts. For rehab, she's sent to a swanky one-week desert spa FOR WOMEN ONLY! Coincidentally, Suzanne had already made plans to spend a one week vacation at the same spa, so when Jeff Spencer (Roger Smith, terrific as always) is hired by the studio head to make sure his fallen star successfully completes her detox, he assigns Suzanne to the case and books her room right next door to the troubled actress.

It doesn't take long for Suzanne to realize someone at the spa is trying to murder her new friend, so she makes a long-distance phone call to Jeff (naturally, someone at the spa listens in to their conversation) and that's as much of the plot as I'll give away. . .

What makes the episode such sparking fun is the first-rate screenplay (which blends shivery suspense with sharp, witty dialogue), a deluxe production, the fact that the females at the spa are collectively the bitchiest bunch of feline backstabbers since "The Women", and the sizzling chemistry between Suzanne and Jeff (die-hard fans of the series will remember that in one of the earliest episodes 3 years ago, Suzanne and Jeff fell deeply in love and Jeff even proposed to her (!) but she turned him down, not because she didn't love him but because of the dangers of his profession. (Sounds corny, I know, But Ms. Beer and Mr. Smith played it so sincerely and honestly that it packed a bittersweet emotional punch).

Also, Roger Smith, accompanied by his guitar, once again is given the opportunity to reveal his fine baritone voice; and you'll never guess the identity of the killer (I was certain it was Lisa Gaye, another beauty. I was wrong!) Best of all is the lovely performance by Jacqueline Beer, never more glamorous or assured. She even receives top billing and deserves it, as does Roger Smith, who gallantly settles for second billing.

"77 Sunset Strip", all these decades later, remains by far the best and most innovative of all the private eye, lawyers, and cop shows that filled the networks' schedules during the late-1950s thru the 1960s. It boasted the most attractive and ingratiating cast, the sharpest most humorous dialogue, and the handsomest sets and production values. Above all, it was FUN and is not to be missed.

77 Sunset Strip: The Common Denominator (1961) Season 3, Episode 31

Nifty whodunit co-written by Roger Smith

[9/10 · 20 May 2017]

Any episode of "77 Sunset Strip" written (or co-written) by Roger Smith (as Jeff Spencer) is first-rate, and this one is no exception. As another reviewer pointed out, the relationship between the police and the private detective is antagonistic in virtually every series of this genre, but not here. In fact, Jeff Spencer is a personal friend of the police lieutenant who, in this episode, comes to Jeff to ask for his unofficial help. The police are getting nowhere in finding who the psycho serial killer is responsible for the brutal slayings of several young Beverly Hills beauties, and "The Common Denominator" explores in methodic detail how Spencer, using his keen intelligence in discovering and following up on clues, tracks down the murderer (and I'll wager you'll never come close to guessing the identity of the culprit). The episode is filled with genuine suspense and shudders (the depiction of the killings is pretty graphic for 1961). And when Spencer is finally able to tie the slayings together when he realizes all of the victims spoke with French accents, you can be sure he'll engage his agency's gorgeous French secretary as a decoy to trap the killer. (The show's ardent fans will recall that in one of its first episodes, Roger Smith and Jacqueline Beer fell in love and he asked her to marry him!)

No spoilers from me,just my appreciation for Mr. Smith's first-rate screenplay which is so much more than a mere whodunit (albeit a dandy one). What truly makes it shine is its nuanced character study of the very real friendship between Jeff and his policeman friend, and also between Jeff and his lovely, intelligent secretary. "77 Sunset Strip" was always filled with the most beautiful young starlets of its time, but, for me, Jacqueline Beer was the most delectable actress to ever appear on the series. The chemistry between Ms. Beer and Mr. Smith is so palpable that you won't even miss the absence of Efrem Zimbalist Jr. and Richard Long (Edd Byrnes has two very brief scenes, and that's it for Kookie and his comb).

77 Sunset Strip: Once Upon a Caper (1961) Season 3, Episode 22

Roger Smith's brilliant script lampoons "77 Sunset Strip"

[10/10 · 9 May 2017]

When I was a young teenager, "77 Sunset Strip" was my and my friends' favorite TV show and, thanks to MeTV for recently airing its re-runs, it remains the freshest, most original and coolest show on TV. Little did I realize way back when that one of its stars--the handsome gifted young actor Roger Smith (on whom my sister had a serious crush)--also wrote 7 of its episodes, and the 2 I've seen so far are terrific. "The Silent Caper" had absolutely no dialogue--a gimmick that Smith utilized to create one of the series' finest 60 minutes. Equally wonderful is "Once Upon a Caper" wherein Smith used a Rashomon-like narrative to turn the series upside down by lampooning the whole private eye genre and making good-natured fun of the characters played by Efrem Zimbalist Jr. (Stuart Bailey), Edd Byrnes (Kookie) and Smith himself (Jeff Spencer). Richard Long (a recent addition to the cast) wants to know what brought the original threesome together, and Smith, Zimbalist and Byrnes are only too happy to tell him. Trouble is, each one takes full credit for establishing their swank private eye agency, gleefully portraying the other two as bumbling, nerdy, down-on-their-luck incompetents (especially hilarious is Smith's depiction of the suave, sophisticated Zimbalist as a hick wearing a bow-tie, baggy pants, an ill-fitting suit and a nebbishy haircut). I can't recall any other TV series pulling the rug out from under itself, but thanks to Smith's droll tongue-in-cheek script (and he doesn't spare himself-- Zimbalist portrays Smith as an inept, clumsy, narcissistic fool with a lousy haircut), "Once Upon a Caper" is probably the most enjoyable episode of the entire series and quite possibly the inspiration for Blake Edwards' quintet of Inspector Clouseau movies (the ones with Peter Sellers). The multi-talented Roger Smith (who in other episodes also revealed a fine singing voice) never resorts to crude slapstick, nor are there any corpses or mayhem (and only a couple of stunning blondes) in this light-hearted caper. All three lead actors seem to be having a great time poking fun at each other, and their inspired hi-jinks make for a classic episode of a classic, classy TV series!

Make a Face (1971)

A vanity film, barely remembered and best forgotten

[2/10 · 16 September 2016]

Since there are no reviews and minimal information provided for MAKE A FACE, I feel compelled to supply what little I remember of this independent film I had the misfortune of seeing at a screening prior to its release in the summer of 1971. The only other person attending this screening was a caustic movie critic I had become friends with, and MAKE A FACE was actually worth sitting thru simply to see the expressions of horror on his face (and listening to his whispered comments, most of them unprintable). The movie was the creation of someone named Karen Sperling who modestly took 5 screen credits: for writing, directing, producing and playing the starring role in this obvious vanity production. (Her 5th credit was for playing the harpsichord on the soundtrack.) I gather the movie was autobiographical, since it devoted 90 minutes observing her life as a single young woman (mid-20s, I would guess) existing in New York City. The problem was that there was absolutely nothing the slightest bit interesting about it (the movie) or her (an aspiring auteurist, I presume). The only thing I wondered about was where in God's name did she get the money to commit this nonsense to celluloid. Fortunately, my critic friend knew everything about the famous and not-so-famous in the film industry, and informed me that Karen Sperling came from a very well-heeled movie family and that her father had been quite a successful producer during Hollywood's golden era. So he obviously gave her enough moolah to not only make the damned movie, but also rent the theater where it played very briefly (the reviews in the 3 NYC newspapers were killers!)and pay the prestigious p.r. firm Rogers, Cowan & Brenner a handsome sum to drum up media interest in Ms. Sperling and her movie (unfortunately, there wasn't any). I don't mean to sound unkind. The film's production values and cinematography were certainly professional and, among the few supporting actors, an appealing young newcomer (in the thankless role of the heroine's boyfriend) named Nicolas Surovy did a nice job and seemed destined for a bright future (which he achieved--check out his IMDb coverage). Ms. Sperling was, alas, never heard of or seen again--as a filmmaker or actress, that is. I still remember Roger Greenspun's droll review in the NY Times, however. While unable to encourage her ambitions as a filmmaker, he admitted he found her quite attractive and, assessing the potential of her future boyfriends, concluded: "The line forms at the left"!

Cimarron City: Cimarron Holiday (1958) Season 1, Episode 11

"Cimarron City" Christmas episode. A rare treat!

[9/10 · 30 April 2016]

Of all of the hugely popular Western series that saturated the TV networks during the 1950s and 1960s, I can't recall any of them doing a Christmas episode except my favorite, CIMARRON CITY. It was the NBC programmers who had the promising idea of creating an intelligent adult Western, produced on a generous budget, and peopled with class-A guest stars to support its outstanding trio of vastly underrated regulars: George Montgomery, whose appealing presence alone elevated the quality of the 'B' theatrical genre movies of which he was already a veteran; 27-year-old John Smith, whose extraordinary good looks and versatility seemed to guarantee his achieving top movie stardom (which, sadly, never happened), and lovely Audrey Totter who, now at 40, was freed of being typecast as a slut and, as a cultured, strong-willed citizen of Cimarron City, added feminine allure. In the Christmas episode (mercifully free of anything maudlin, mushy or even remotely heartwarming, but in no way mean-spirited either), it's Ms. Totter who decides to direct a play celebrating Cimarron's festivities. She comes across something called "A Christmas Carol" written by someone named Charles Dickens, and casts it with local citizens (Mr. Montgomery is a riot as Scrooge, and Mr. Smith has a lot of sly fun with Bob Crachit--who would have known these two actors were such expert comedians?). In a nod to "42nd Street", a distinctly uncharming, snot-nosed little boy (Tim Hovey, one of the finest child actors of the '50s in his next-to-last role)arranges for the sweet little boy cast as Tiny Tim to break his leg so Hovey can replace him (for reasons I won't reveal here). What a shame that NBC scheduled "Cimarron City" for Saturday night opposite "Gunsmoke"! The show, of course, got bottom-of-the-barrel ratings and, instead of moving it to a more suitable time period, NBC canceled it after only 26 episodes. But all 26 episodes are highly original, and the relaxed camaraderie among the three leads is a high-spirited delight. With the proper handling by NBC, there's no reason why "Cimarron City" wouldn't have caught on with viewers and lasted for several seasons (unlike "Gunsmoke" and "Bonanza" which today are practically unwatchable).

"Cimarron City" is currently being revived by the terrific GetTV cable channel (every Saturday afternoon at 2PM). Give it a try, and I think you'll be more than pleasantly surprised.

Perry Mason: The Case of Constant Doyle (1963) Season 6, Episode 16

3 superb actors make below-par PM episode a must-see!

[10/10 · 18 February 2016]

As a child in the 1950s, I avoided watching the Perry Mason series because I found courtroom dramas boring, Now, decades later, and thanks to MeTV (which shows two episodes every weekday), Perry Mason is my favorite show on TV. Why? For one thing, the quality of the writing, direction and acting of the series regulars is first-rate. And while all 271 episodes basically follow the same format (the first-half hour sets up the whodunit and introduces a plentitude of characters who may or may not have 'dunit', the second-half resolves each generally baffling mystery in the courtroom via the dynamic warfare between the d.a. handling the case and the defense lawyer Perry Mason, whose clients are ALWAYS innocent). Most intriguing of all to me is the line-up of each episode's guest stars, usually a well-chosen mixture of fading stars of Hollywood's golden past, the finest of filmdom's 'character' actors and actresses, and the good-looking young male and gorgeous female newcomers of that particular era when the episode was filmed, only a few of whom were destined for future stardom. And while "The Case of Constance Doyle" may be one of the series' more uninspired hours (its confusing plot, lack of any genuine suspense and only very brief appearance of Perry Mason himself have been sufficiently covered by the other commentators), the outstanding performances of a trio of memorable actors at various stages of their careers make it an example of spellbinding TV that shouldn't be missed (hence, my highest rating of 10). First, of course, is the formidable Bette Davis (age 54,since the episode's early January 1963 telecast indicates it was filmed at the end of 1962). Fresh off the totally unexpected, huge success of "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" the previous year, Ms. Davis got the career boost back into the A-list she hadn't enjoyed since 1950 and extended her expiration date by another 15 years. Via her delightfully candid, good-humored appearances on TV talk shows, Ms. Davis found herself beloved by a brand-new young audience (of the hip collegiate crowd) and gives a lovely, intelligent performance as a female lawyer Constant Doyle that remains one of her best--restrained, warm-hearted, sharp-tongued and witty simultaneously. Her newfound glow required a new kind of leading man--and she certainly got one in a handsome, strikingly talented 22-year-old newcomer Michael Parks. Already being promoted as "the new James Dean" and sneeringly put down by another character in the show as a "juvenile delinquent", Parks was neither and he hit it off so beautifully with his co-star that Ms. Davis happily told the press that he was "the finest young actor in America". Another person here commented that he found it cringeworthy that Ms. Davis acted like what today is called a "cougar" by the way she often touched one of Parks' broad shoulders or gave him (her client) $20 after tenderly brushing his hair across his forehead and ordering him to "get a haircut". In the final scene, she even playfully swats his behind. Please! This was 1963. And. Ms. Davis' maternal affection for this misjudged young fellow, and his admission that he had once met her late husband provided one of the clues needed for her to prove his innocence. It was obvious that Michael Parks was headed for movie & TV superstardom and, a few years later, when his casting as Adam in the much-hyped "The Bible" provided moviegoers with the first glimpse of male nudity since Hollywood's pre-code days (his impressive physique led to even more favorable newspaper headlines), the now 28-year-old was confirmed as the most popular actor of the time with his casting as the motorcycle-riding hero of the smash-hit TV series "And Then Came Bronson". But as the Vietnam War raged on, Parks objected to the show's producers' intention to make the show much more violent and stood his ground. As a result, the show was cancelled, Parks was fired on the grounds that he was "difficult" to work with, and by his 30th birthday, he found himself broke, washed-up and, worst of all, blackballed. (Check out his IMDb page to find out how he is faring today.) The third actress to find her participation in this PM episode a mixed blessing is Peggy Ann Garner. Probably the most talented and natural child actor of the 1940s, Ms. Garner was honored with a special miniature Oscar for her incandescent portrayal of the child of a kind, loving, but alcoholic father through whose eyes we see "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn", followed by her moneymaking and still-delightful teenage comedies as "Junior Miss" and "Home Sweet Homicide". 15 years later, Ms. Garner had not made the kind of transition from child to young adult sweetheart that her studio 20th Century-Fox had hoped for and, at 30, was reduced to playing guest roles of diminishing quality such as her one in "Constant Doyle". Nevertheless, she imbues her one scene in the courtroom as a ravaged alcoholic with heartbreaking honesty. A decade later, she was dead. The above comments are the reasons I believe the current revival of classic and not-so-classic TV shows of the past so popular on such cable channels as MeTV and Antenna and GetTV. Even if the particular episode of a series you're watching is not one of the best, stay tuned anyway, and watch the end credits. If there's an actor listed in the credits who may not be one of the stars, but perhaps looks vaguely familiar or captures your attention at first glance, jot down the name and look the person up on the IMDb website and see what's become of them. And cross your fingers while you're at it.

Mohawk (1956)

Handsome Hero + 3 Gorgeous Gals = Fun, sexy Western!

[9/10 · 19 November 2014]

Forget all the nasty things that reviewers have said about MOHAWK, an unpretentious, thoroughly enjoyable, ahead-of-its-time 1956 Western starring handsome Scott Brady (was the word "hunk" in use as early as the 1950s?) as an artist from Boston commissioned to do a series of frontier paintings to present the Iroquois Indians in a favorable light. Since Brady usually does these paintings with his shirt off, small wonder he attracts the amorous attentions of a trio of gorgeous gals: brunette Indian maiden Rita Gam, auburn-haired sexpot Allison Hayes and blonde beauty Lori Nelson (try and guess which one he winds up marrying; a nice surprise!). For about an hour, the romantic cavorting of Brady and his beauties take the forefront (the Breen office must have been napping during a lakeside interlude and make-out session with Brady & Gam wearing as little as possible). Then the final 20 minutes get down to the inevitable cowboys vs. Indians clash, but since the screenplay is refreshingly original enough to make a distinction between the good and bad white men, and the savage vs. civilized Indians, you'll probably care about who dies and who survives. And rather than try to stage the climactic uprising within the limits of its modest budget, MOHAWK smoothly incorporates some spectacular footage from John Ford's 1939 extravaganza "Drums Along the Mohawk" (which accounts, I imagine, for why this independently-produced movie was released by 20th Century-Fox). So what's not to like? Slick direction, a sensible and often good-humored screenplay, a terrific supporting cast, and beautiful color photography contribute to making this good-natured escapism a lot more enjoyable than many of its big-budget, boring CinemaScope counterparts from the same era. A hearty, sincere, belated thanks to everyone involved with MOHAWK. They appear to be having a very good time, and so should you, the viewer.

Robert Montgomery Presents: The Tall Dark Man (1955) Season 6, Episode 31

Spine-chilling TV suspense--57 years ago!

[10/10 · 27 August 2012]

How strange it is that of the movies and TV shows I saw in my childhood (the 1950s), the ones I remember the most vividly are the musicals and the scary ones. Among the latter, I've never forgotten "The Tall Dark Man", a presentation of the 60-minute "Robert Montgomery Presents" anthology series. It gave me nightmares for weeks, and I still recall scenes from it and the reason why I watched it. "I Remember Mama" was one of my and my older sister's favorite shows of that era, and we especially liked the child actress Robin Morgan who played the youngest child of that Norwegian-American family. She must have been the reason why we tuned into "Robert Montgomery Presents" that night, and our parents must have been away that evening (leaving us with our grandmother) or they most certainly would have shut off the TV had they known what kind of program we were watching (heck, I still hadn't forgiven them for not allowing me to see Marilyn Monroe in "Niagara" 3 years earlier; yes, the previews for "Niagara" were indeed lurid but then so was the ahead-of-its-time movie!). Anyway, in "The Tall Dark Man" young Ms. Morgan portrayed (and quite convincingly, too) a grade school youngster ridiculed by her classmates for constantly spinning wild stories from her overactive imagination. One day, she dozes off during a boring class, and when she wakes up, she peers out the window next to her desk and sees in the distance a murder being committed by a "tall dark man". Naturally, her teacher and students don't believe a word she says and--though I can't recall the plotting at this point (probably she forgot something when school is out and goes back into the now darkened building to retrieve it) finds herself locked into the school along with the murderer who had seen her spying on him when he committed the murder. His homicidal pursuit of the terrified girl, through corridors and empty classrooms plunged into darkness, was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen in my young life, and while my sister urged me to turn off the TV, I persisted in watching the program to the bitter end if only to see whether the poor girl survived this nerve-shattering ordeal. 20-plus years later, when I was similarly scared out of my wits when I saw the now-classic "Halloween", that film evoked memories of "The Tall Dark Man" and I figured its writer/director John Carpenter must have also been inspired by this now-forgotten TV program of so many years back. With Hollywood currently losing millions by unnecessarily making lousy remakes of movies barely 20 years old, why doesn't some young talented filmmaker scour the archives and do a feature-length theatrical-film version of "The Tall Dark Man"? Without any gore, please. The original was terrifying enough without one drop of blood. One more question: I don't recall whether this program was telecast live or was taped. Even if it was "live", a kinescope might well still be in existence. Does anyone know where I might find a copy of it? Many thanks!

Miss Robin Crusoe (1953)

Entertaining low-budget fun; Ms. Blake & Nader save it . . .

[6/10 · 22 January 2012]

For the past year or so, Turner Classic Movies has been digging up several forgotten obscurities that probably haven't seen the light of day since their original release dates. Such an oddity is MISS ROBIN CRUSOE, a 1954 Fox pickup shown in a pristine, beautifully Pathecolored print this morning at 6 AM. The two other reviews have gleefully pointed out this unpretentious programmer's shortcomings. In defense, I'd like to list its merits. For one, while one critic griped that the movie was obviously shot on a studio soundstage, this is untrue. Several scenes were filmed on location with the stars cavorting in front of spectacular Pacific Ocean vistas(no process shots here!). Then-newcomers Amanda Blake and George Nader could easily have sleepwalked thru the proceedings but act with such sincerity and conviction that it's no wonder both of them quickly went on to stardom: Ms. Blake on TV's legendary 20-year series "Gunsmoke", while Nader was quickly signed to a Universal-International contract (and starred in such 'A' features as "Unguarded Moment", "Away All Boats", "Four Girls in Town", "The Second Greatest Sex" and the unjustly overlooked superior second-feature "Man Afraid"--I've always been grateful to this gentleman for responding to my fan letter, at the age of 8, with a personally autographed 5x7 photo and a hand-written letter of appreciation!). Feminists could write a fascinating thesis on this gender-reversed take on Dafoe's classic novel. (The censors must have been comatose when, towards the conclusion, Ms. Blake and Nader engage in an oceanside coupling that, for pure eroticism, outdoes the similar-but-much-celebrated clinch in "From Here to Eternity" and did I detect a sapphic undertone in the scene where the female Friday gazes at and touches the sleeping Ms. Blake's body?) All of this packed into an action-packed 73-minute running time, scored by the then-unknown Elmer Bernstein. I'm by no means recommending that you go out of your way to track down "Miss Robin Crusoe" but the next time (if ever) it turns up on TCM, you might give it a try. It's certainly far more fun than the Peter O'Toole/Richard Roundtree "revisionist" version of Dafoe's tale, the godawful "Man Friday"!

Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961)

George Peppard--Audrey Hepburn's Finest Leading Man

[7 October 2011]

Though I had always been charmed by Audrey Hepburn and her movies of the 1950s, it wasn't until "Breakfast" that I truly fell in love with her. But what bothers me is that George Peppard is rarely mentioned in tributes to the movie, and when he is, the comments about him are usually derogatory. In her previous films, Ms. Hepburn's leading men always seemed old enough to be her father. "Breakfast" broke that creepy tradition by casting a young, handsome, sensitive newcomer named George Peppard, and the chemistry between them is electric. Instead of portraying his role as a traditional two-fisted matinée idol, Peppard quietly underplays, revealing his character well-aware of being a flawed young man, unhappy at being a failed writer, only able to pay his bills by being the kept man of an East Side harridan (Ms. Neal's portrayal of this role is almost as much a caricature as Mr. Rooney's as Holly's Japanese neighbor). So let's give Peppard (also superb in "Home From the Hill") credit for being Ms. Hepburn's most appealing romantic lead--until six years later when Albert Finney (seven years her junior) stole her heart on-and-off screen in the sadly underrated masterpiece "Two for the Road". Incidentally, when my snooty friends told me a long time ago how inferior the movie version of "Breakfast at Tiffany's" was to Capote's brilliant novella, I finally read the damned thing and loathed it! Everything that is so magical about the movie is NOT in the book, including the character of Paul, portrayed so subtly and sincerely by George Peppard. He, Ms. Hepburn, Blake Edwards, Henry Mancini, George Axelrod et all may not have known it at the time, but they created what I consider the finest movie of all-time that, 50 years later, still sparkles like an exquisite Tiffany's bauble.