MeTV is notorious for excising a significant amount of an episode's running time to squeeze in more commercials for dubious claptrap fitness and "medical" products, so maybe that's why I don't really understand Cinnamon's role in this mission; what did her masquerade as a high stakes gambling addict accomplish? Was it just to distract Tomar (William Smithers)? In any event, I thought that Tomar deserved an offing as much if not more than Petrosian (Michael Strong). And I loved it when Petrosian was succumbing to his sedation but opened his eyes long enough to behold Rolly, Cinnamon, and Jim standing shoulder to shoulder in the doorway, letting him know he had been fatally bamboozled! Lol. Not long after, it was out the porthole with him. I wonder if the IM Force got to enjoy themselves a little in Morocco or Turkey or wherever they ended up at the end of the episode. I hope so.
Reviews
61 Reviews
Hilarious Space Hippies Make This One A Fun Outing
14 August 2023
Warning: Spoilers
I only got to see this episode once when I was a kid in the '70s, when the series was rerun in syndication, so I enjoy being able to catch it whenever I can when it's shown on MeTV.
Lots of campy humor, not intended to be taken seriously even at the time, I can't imagine, as a trenchant critique of the Youth Movement. The part that cracks me up the most is the regimented dance intervals; dancing should be fun, but when it's mandated by brainwashing alien space hippies, it quickly becomes a chore! The way it works in the episode, an obnoxious horn blares signaling the beginning of now-is-the-time-when-we-dance-on-Gamma (or wherever they actually are); the two male alien space hippies who don't have speaking parts have to do double duty as set shifters, pushing away the rear walls to make room for dancing platforms, then everybody drops whatever they're doing and has to commence to frug. Apparently even the alien heavies are subject to this rule, 'cause at the end, as the Robinsons are fleeing, the horn sounds, and Bartholomew and Edgar and all the others stop chasing them and jump up on the platforms; it seems that they are compelled, conditioned, or perhaps just culturally obligated to dance! The Space Family Robinson make their getaway whilst Bartholomew screams "There'll be more! There'll be more!" EVEN AS HE CONTINUES TO DANCE! No one is allowed to shirk The Shrug.
Great fun, with some easy-on-the-eyes very fit people (well, not Edgar, I guess) in skin-tight catsuits gyrating away to boot.
Lots of campy humor, not intended to be taken seriously even at the time, I can't imagine, as a trenchant critique of the Youth Movement. The part that cracks me up the most is the regimented dance intervals; dancing should be fun, but when it's mandated by brainwashing alien space hippies, it quickly becomes a chore! The way it works in the episode, an obnoxious horn blares signaling the beginning of now-is-the-time-when-we-dance-on-Gamma (or wherever they actually are); the two male alien space hippies who don't have speaking parts have to do double duty as set shifters, pushing away the rear walls to make room for dancing platforms, then everybody drops whatever they're doing and has to commence to frug. Apparently even the alien heavies are subject to this rule, 'cause at the end, as the Robinsons are fleeing, the horn sounds, and Bartholomew and Edgar and all the others stop chasing them and jump up on the platforms; it seems that they are compelled, conditioned, or perhaps just culturally obligated to dance! The Space Family Robinson make their getaway whilst Bartholomew screams "There'll be more! There'll be more!" EVEN AS HE CONTINUES TO DANCE! No one is allowed to shirk The Shrug.
Great fun, with some easy-on-the-eyes very fit people (well, not Edgar, I guess) in skin-tight catsuits gyrating away to boot.
Taking a trip to Tokyo for less than 2 days??
5 May 2023
Warning: Spoilers
Boy the Douglases were real midwestern jetsetters!
In truth, they did seem to enjoy travelling a lot, internationally, as they do it several times over the course of the series. And they did it together as a family, for the most part, so good for them. I guess it doesn't stretch the boundaries of credibility TOO MUCH that Steve's job as a contracted engineer for the military might afford them the opportunity for that kind of travel, in spite of the fact that other episodes show them having to live within a very, very strict middle-class budget; maybe international travel wasn't the expensive ordeal back then as it is now...? An early episode of BEWITCHED also shows the Stephenses flying back and forth from Paris (on jets, not broomsticks) as if it were no big deal, and on a non-executive, non-partner adman's salary to boot.
I did find a couple of the situations in the episode amusing, if not gut-busting, particularly those dealing with Steve encountering more relaxed ideas of modesty than he's accustomed to: the older housekeeper-type lady of the house they're renting expects Steve to strip buck nekkid in front of her so that she can help bathe him; "In Japan, we do not feel that the human body is shameful," he's told. And then he has to sit down to dinner in his bare feet and his too-small Japanese robe, which promptly rips.
And then before they've even had time to experience a traditional tea ceremony--they're home. As an earlier reviewer has explained, the time frame in which all this plays out doesn't work; it would have been more believable if the script had the family returning to Bryant Park on Tuesday, at the earliest.
In truth, they did seem to enjoy travelling a lot, internationally, as they do it several times over the course of the series. And they did it together as a family, for the most part, so good for them. I guess it doesn't stretch the boundaries of credibility TOO MUCH that Steve's job as a contracted engineer for the military might afford them the opportunity for that kind of travel, in spite of the fact that other episodes show them having to live within a very, very strict middle-class budget; maybe international travel wasn't the expensive ordeal back then as it is now...? An early episode of BEWITCHED also shows the Stephenses flying back and forth from Paris (on jets, not broomsticks) as if it were no big deal, and on a non-executive, non-partner adman's salary to boot.
I did find a couple of the situations in the episode amusing, if not gut-busting, particularly those dealing with Steve encountering more relaxed ideas of modesty than he's accustomed to: the older housekeeper-type lady of the house they're renting expects Steve to strip buck nekkid in front of her so that she can help bathe him; "In Japan, we do not feel that the human body is shameful," he's told. And then he has to sit down to dinner in his bare feet and his too-small Japanese robe, which promptly rips.
And then before they've even had time to experience a traditional tea ceremony--they're home. As an earlier reviewer has explained, the time frame in which all this plays out doesn't work; it would have been more believable if the script had the family returning to Bryant Park on Tuesday, at the earliest.
Mr. Ziffel could've used Arnold's discerning judgment
5 May 2023
Warning: Spoilers
Hank Patterson, the future Mr. Ziffel from GREEN ACRES, plays the park caretaker in this one. And another future member of the Paul Henning Hooterville family of shows--Mike Minor, who would go on to join the cast of PETTICOAT JUNCTION, is the leader of the frat pranksters. It was like old home week for the Henning stable of players before the stable had even been built.
I found it required a lot of suspension of disbelief to buy that the park caretaker was savvy enough to sense that Mike was trying to distract him, but then NOT savvy enough make an immediate connection between a strange young man showing up at his doorstep trying to distract him and the discovery of footprints of an exotic African animal leading into the reservoir.
I think the story was also trying to make a perhaps not-too-pointed point about how the enforced hierarchy of college Greek life can lead to demeaning if not abusive behavior; Mike has to shoulder his way past the constant barrage of insults from the upperclassmen in order to present a solution that might just get their fat out of the fire (it doesn't, really, at the end, lol)
The episode cleverly plays out in flashback scenes shown during a conversation between Steve and the Dean of Mike's college, with a cute little twist right at the very end.
I found it required a lot of suspension of disbelief to buy that the park caretaker was savvy enough to sense that Mike was trying to distract him, but then NOT savvy enough make an immediate connection between a strange young man showing up at his doorstep trying to distract him and the discovery of footprints of an exotic African animal leading into the reservoir.
I think the story was also trying to make a perhaps not-too-pointed point about how the enforced hierarchy of college Greek life can lead to demeaning if not abusive behavior; Mike has to shoulder his way past the constant barrage of insults from the upperclassmen in order to present a solution that might just get their fat out of the fire (it doesn't, really, at the end, lol)
The episode cleverly plays out in flashback scenes shown during a conversation between Steve and the Dean of Mike's college, with a cute little twist right at the very end.
Clever episode that plays out in real time
31 January 2023
Warning: Spoilers
This episode gives viewers an inside look at the weekday morning routine in the Douglas household, juxtaposed with television coverage of a satellite launch. The proceedings occur in exactly the same amount of time as the duration of the episode--there's even a metafictional wink at the audience when Bub announces that the family only has 26 minutes to get ready and get out the door (teevee shows had less commercials back in 1960).
There's humorous elements, with the Douglas men all trying to crowd into what is apparently the house's one and only bathroom at the same time--I liked the bit with Mike intentionally leaning on the door to keep Robbie from getting in--and there's suspense around some narrowly avoided disasters involving blueprints and a trumpet. It all plays out and is performed with a deft, realistic touch.
In spite of some close calls, the Douglasses seem to be faring better than the satellite rocket--it explodes upon launch--until they pile into the car and turn on the radio, upon which they learn they are an hour AHEAD of schedule; daylight savings time had ended the night before, and Bub had mistakenly set the household clocks backward instead of forward! Also, the rocket launch was a rerun of an event that had occurred several years prior. The narrator of the broadcast-within-a-broadcast ties the bow on the gift that is this episode with a summation that concludes that our mistakes show us not only what we have done wrong, but also what we are getting right.
I really enjoyed this one. I had only seen the color seasons of MY THREE SONS in syndicated reruns in the late '70s; these early b&w episodes are a delightful revelation to me. If only the series had maintained this level of inventiveness and fun energy for the entirety of its run.
There's humorous elements, with the Douglas men all trying to crowd into what is apparently the house's one and only bathroom at the same time--I liked the bit with Mike intentionally leaning on the door to keep Robbie from getting in--and there's suspense around some narrowly avoided disasters involving blueprints and a trumpet. It all plays out and is performed with a deft, realistic touch.
In spite of some close calls, the Douglasses seem to be faring better than the satellite rocket--it explodes upon launch--until they pile into the car and turn on the radio, upon which they learn they are an hour AHEAD of schedule; daylight savings time had ended the night before, and Bub had mistakenly set the household clocks backward instead of forward! Also, the rocket launch was a rerun of an event that had occurred several years prior. The narrator of the broadcast-within-a-broadcast ties the bow on the gift that is this episode with a summation that concludes that our mistakes show us not only what we have done wrong, but also what we are getting right.
I really enjoyed this one. I had only seen the color seasons of MY THREE SONS in syndicated reruns in the late '70s; these early b&w episodes are a delightful revelation to me. If only the series had maintained this level of inventiveness and fun energy for the entirety of its run.
Loose End Left Me Constipated
26 October 2022
Warning: Spoilers
Hartley Basset, ball bearing magnate, returns from being MIA for two years, and promptly starts throwing his weight around, firing employees, calling his wife "stupid", and behaving like an injured party because his wife and one of his executives were attempting to sell his business (or something) and start another one in her name only--completely understandably, as they didn't know if he was alive or dead or what and his family needed the money. What the script never gets around to explaining is where he was and what he was doing for those two years. The suspicion is raised that he had run off with the wife of another of his employees (who, after possibly being abandoned by Hartley, killed herself), but even that is in doubt; he never confirms it and seems genuinely surprised to hear of the woman's demise. Frankly, he didn't seem like the type to me--a cheater, yes, quite possibly, and maybe for a weekend in Spring Palms or something, but I just couldn't see him as being the kind of guy who would run off for two whole years and neglect his business; money and control were too important to him, and he simply wasn't enough of a "romantic" to embark a 24-month passion spree. It is outrageous that he doesn't feel he owes his wife an explanation as to his whereabouts, and acts aggrieved that she might be--very, very tentatively--considering a romance with a man who lent her emotional support and sound business and financial advice during her husband's absence. And she's so browbeaten that she doesn't ever really muster the nerve to just come out and ask him where he had been and what he had been doing!
Poor Sybil Basset; it's mentioned in passing that her first husband wasn't very good to her, her adult son from that marriage tends to yell at her, and then she got a jerk like Hartley as a 2nd husband. No luck with the men in her life! One can only hope that the affection between Sybil and Peter Dawson, who had been her rock, later developed into something more substantial.
It nags one that the murder victim's temporary disappearance was never adequately explained, and is the main reason I'm only giving the episode 4 stars; though I suppose Hartley's behavior is all meant to contribute to the feeling--typical for the series from the episodes I've seen--that the viewer shouldn't shed any tears over his offing; both his wife--guiltily--and his step-son--gleefully--admit that they're glad he's dead.
You can't help but feel that the substitution of a toupee in the teevee episode for the glass eye from the source material was the writers having a bit of fun; but it makes me wonder about the original story, which I haven't read: how in the world would a glass eye end up in a murder victim's hand?? That must've been quite some wild death-struggle (or at least intended to look like one).
Poor Sybil Basset; it's mentioned in passing that her first husband wasn't very good to her, her adult son from that marriage tends to yell at her, and then she got a jerk like Hartley as a 2nd husband. No luck with the men in her life! One can only hope that the affection between Sybil and Peter Dawson, who had been her rock, later developed into something more substantial.
It nags one that the murder victim's temporary disappearance was never adequately explained, and is the main reason I'm only giving the episode 4 stars; though I suppose Hartley's behavior is all meant to contribute to the feeling--typical for the series from the episodes I've seen--that the viewer shouldn't shed any tears over his offing; both his wife--guiltily--and his step-son--gleefully--admit that they're glad he's dead.
You can't help but feel that the substitution of a toupee in the teevee episode for the glass eye from the source material was the writers having a bit of fun; but it makes me wonder about the original story, which I haven't read: how in the world would a glass eye end up in a murder victim's hand?? That must've been quite some wild death-struggle (or at least intended to look like one).
So Help Me Todd
(2022–2024)
I'm liking it more
23 October 2022
CBS laugh-track sitcoms tend to be verrrry mediocre, the dramas fare a bit better, and the comedy-inflected dramas, such as SO HELP ME TODD, are a hit-and-miss grab-bag. This show, which takes place at a high-powered law firm, doesn't demonstrate much legal expertise or skillful private investigating; the meat here is in the contentious relationship between a mother and son who work together after the mother helps him out by hiring him at her firm, and there is some genuine entertainment value in that. The episode I saw tonight, a repeat of "Co-Pilot", was fairly good; the back-and-forth dialogue between Marcia Gay Harden's wealthy defense attorney and her down-at-heel P. I. son played by Skylar Astin seemed more natural than contrived this time, and I really liked the scene with the mother and her daughter at the hospital; their chemistry as parent and child was believable and it rang true in how the way they related to each other was very different than the way the mother and son get along. I hope they give the daughter character, played by Allision Wise, more screen time; she has a sarcastic Chelsea Peretti quality that I find appealing. There's supposed to be another sibling, a gay brother, but he's never once made an appearance at the regular family dinners. He's turning out to be one of those often-referred-to-never-seen types of characters that have a long history in teevee shows, like Norm's wife Vera on CHEERS and Niles' first wife Mavis on FRASIER. The son's husband, however, is always at the family get-togethers, though neither he nor the daughter's husband are given anything to do or say to build a solid character on. They seem to be there just to fill up seats at the table. Family dinners on teevee shows are big now, and have been at least since BROTHERS & SISTERS in the early 2000s, but they aren't used to much effect in this series. Overall, it's a fairly engaging way to spend an hour, not terribly mentally taxing, and the actors are extremely watchable. It doesn't make me want to change the channel after GHOSTS.
A dog's nose knows
17 October 2022
Warning: Spoilers
The elevated level of jeopardy, with Casey's life unknowingly being in danger, and Barney's cover being blown, were nice touches, but even with these hiccups somehow it all seemed to go too smoothly for my liking; I don't think the script capitalized on those elements, particularly Casey's dilemma, as well as it could have.
Stuff that struck me as unrealistic, even for M: I :
1) that no one but Luke Jenkins knew what the bag woman looked like; seems implausible that Harry Fife wouldn't have been provided with a photo of someone handling such a vital task. This episode probably should have been a double-masker.
2) that Fife would undertake the assassination of a highly-placed politician unilaterally. I understand that it was necessary for him to decide this on his own in order for Jim's last-minute ruse of being Sturgess to work, but it just seems so unlikely. Also--that someone higher up in the organization would stress to him how important the politician was to their operation, and !must not be lost!, on the SAME DAY that the death of the politician was scheduled, without Fife being suspicious of the conveniently-coincidental timing.
3) that Jenkins would behave exactly as he did after escaping; that he would stand in the phone booth in just such a way that Jim was able to see all the numbers dialed; that the physical location attached to the phone number could be traced so quickly.
I vacillate on whether or not the dog element was contrived or quirkily interesting. As the mechanism by which Barney's impersonation of Jenkins was revealed, it seems clunky. OH--and the window in the vet's office being left up, with no screen! Come on.
Note: the synopsis would understandably lead one to believe that this is a rather Casey-centric episode, but she's really not in it that much. More time is spent on the wrinkle of Barney's cover being exposed and his injury, etc.
Stuff that struck me as unrealistic, even for M: I :
1) that no one but Luke Jenkins knew what the bag woman looked like; seems implausible that Harry Fife wouldn't have been provided with a photo of someone handling such a vital task. This episode probably should have been a double-masker.
2) that Fife would undertake the assassination of a highly-placed politician unilaterally. I understand that it was necessary for him to decide this on his own in order for Jim's last-minute ruse of being Sturgess to work, but it just seems so unlikely. Also--that someone higher up in the organization would stress to him how important the politician was to their operation, and !must not be lost!, on the SAME DAY that the death of the politician was scheduled, without Fife being suspicious of the conveniently-coincidental timing.
3) that Jenkins would behave exactly as he did after escaping; that he would stand in the phone booth in just such a way that Jim was able to see all the numbers dialed; that the physical location attached to the phone number could be traced so quickly.
I vacillate on whether or not the dog element was contrived or quirkily interesting. As the mechanism by which Barney's impersonation of Jenkins was revealed, it seems clunky. OH--and the window in the vet's office being left up, with no screen! Come on.
Note: the synopsis would understandably lead one to believe that this is a rather Casey-centric episode, but she's really not in it that much. More time is spent on the wrinkle of Barney's cover being exposed and his injury, etc.
D. B. Cooper, hijacker and episodic television show muse
3 June 2022
Warning: Spoilers
As has already been recounted, the 1971 D. B. Cooper hijacking mystery was the inspiration for this BARNABY JONES story of big greed in a small town. The fun here is in watching Barnaby do his "Aw, shucks", down-to-earth, good ol' boy dance around the resident ne'er-do-wells, a shtick secondly only in entertainment value to Columbo's rumpled obsequiousness. Usually Barnaby employs it to disarm, but in this situation the intent is to unnerve, and it succeeds in spades; all of the bad guys are already going around acting as guilty as sin anyway! This is no brain trust of murderers: when it's decided that Barnaby has to be bumped off, they let the most nervous, most scatter-brained one of the bunch tackle the job; of course he blows it. Another moment of hilarity is when Claude Akins' character conveniently explains the entire backstory of the plot to his co-conspirators, telling them information with which of course they are already intimately familiar. The climax, in which the villains incriminate themselves in front of a hastily assembled group of townsfolk, worked a bit too smoothly to be very believable. High body count for an episode of BJ, coming in at three: The two hijackers and an auto mechanic who had attempted to blackmail the cabal. Barnaby's involvement in the whole thing is launched by the wife of the most-recently murdered hijacker, whose untimely end opens the episode; she wants to know exactly what happened to her husband during his brief stay in sleepy little Parker Junction, and--I thought this was funny--just as importantly, if not more-so, what happened to the money he said he was going there to collect! One of the clues that whets Barnaby's suspicions didn't ring true to me: he finds it odd that the real-estate agent (played by Neva Patterson) is driving a fairly expensive, brand new car; having grown up in a rural town with a population of 7,000, I can testify that even small-town realtors typically "do well", and are usually among the most affluent of citizens.
What a lucky ice cream break
9 March 2022
This one's a bit more interesting and involving than the typical BARNABY JONES episode of this period, with lots of moving parts: a suicidal woman, Barnaby coping with the guilt of a rare mistake made several years earlier, scarily competent and effective villains, and a shocking murder at the end of part 1 of this two-part story. If you spent any time watching these Quinn-Martin detective shows either now or back in the day, you are well aware that the heroes NEVER flubbed things as badly as Barnaby seems to have done here, so this story is quite a departure from the established formula. I liked the way the plot is carefully spooled out, with not only the motivations of the bad guys still murky at the end of the episode, but also the viewer isn't quite sure what exactly happened during the crime in question 11 years prior. Add to that the little glimpse that is given of the REALLY bad bad dude's marriage, showing it to be affectionate and loving, which also leaves the viewer wondering if the wife is in on it or not, and you have a many-layered thing. This episode is so jam-packed with guest-stars that the standard opening credits procedure of listing two or three actors and then giving an arbitrary "special guest-star" designation is abandoned, and all the players are listed alphabetically.
And yet for all that there is to recommend about this episode, I still found it to be lacking in the "oomph" dept.; the proceedings have a kind of listless quality to them, the story doesn't "crackle" the way it should, and I have to lay the blame for that at the feet of the serviceable-but-staid direction, and also, unfortunately, with Mr. Ebsen himself. He never really convinces us of the turmoil he should be feeling, and his line readings are pretty flat. I hate to say it but all of that is pretty par for the course by season 6; Buddy Ebsen was almost 70 when this episode hit the airwaves and perhaps his age was finally catching up with him. I think it was a wise decision that starting with this season and going forward, the heavy-lifting for the plots began to be split between the three series regulars, giving B. E. a lighter work load.
One hilarious contrivance that demands to be pointed out: When Barnaby is talking on the phone with the suicidal woman, he hears an ice cream truck in the background, playing "Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush"; he tells his assistants to get on the phone and call all the ice cream truck companies and ask them if any of their trucks play that song, and if so, find out what their routes are, so as to help pinpoint the location of the suicidal woman; the information is achieved in minutes!
Can you imagine how long that would have taken in real life? In a city of the size of Los Angeles--if the lady was even IN Los Angeles? Especially before the days of the internet? First you have to hope that the relevant business is listed in the Yellow Pages; then you have to hope that they answer the phone; then you have to hope that the person who answers knows anything..."Do any of your trucks play 'Mulberry Bush'?" "Uh, I don't know...I just answer the phone..." "Can I talk to somebody who WOULD know?" "Uh...let me see if Carl is still around...I'll be right back..." (ten minutes later:) "Uh, Carl is gone for the day, can I have him call you back?" And then multiply that conversation by 10 or 15 or whatever. Lol.
And yet for all that there is to recommend about this episode, I still found it to be lacking in the "oomph" dept.; the proceedings have a kind of listless quality to them, the story doesn't "crackle" the way it should, and I have to lay the blame for that at the feet of the serviceable-but-staid direction, and also, unfortunately, with Mr. Ebsen himself. He never really convinces us of the turmoil he should be feeling, and his line readings are pretty flat. I hate to say it but all of that is pretty par for the course by season 6; Buddy Ebsen was almost 70 when this episode hit the airwaves and perhaps his age was finally catching up with him. I think it was a wise decision that starting with this season and going forward, the heavy-lifting for the plots began to be split between the three series regulars, giving B. E. a lighter work load.
One hilarious contrivance that demands to be pointed out: When Barnaby is talking on the phone with the suicidal woman, he hears an ice cream truck in the background, playing "Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush"; he tells his assistants to get on the phone and call all the ice cream truck companies and ask them if any of their trucks play that song, and if so, find out what their routes are, so as to help pinpoint the location of the suicidal woman; the information is achieved in minutes!
Can you imagine how long that would have taken in real life? In a city of the size of Los Angeles--if the lady was even IN Los Angeles? Especially before the days of the internet? First you have to hope that the relevant business is listed in the Yellow Pages; then you have to hope that they answer the phone; then you have to hope that the person who answers knows anything..."Do any of your trucks play 'Mulberry Bush'?" "Uh, I don't know...I just answer the phone..." "Can I talk to somebody who WOULD know?" "Uh...let me see if Carl is still around...I'll be right back..." (ten minutes later:) "Uh, Carl is gone for the day, can I have him call you back?" And then multiply that conversation by 10 or 15 or whatever. Lol.
Wally blows it, due to insecure masculinity
24 February 2022
Warning: Spoilers
Wally's new club wants him to be a saloon girl in a western-themed play they're presenting; Wally gives in to fear and rigid ideas about masculine identity and weasles his way out of it.
No one else has a problem with it, especially not his parents: Ward says he wore a grass skirt and played a hula dancer in his younger days. It's Wally's hang-up.
Eddie Haskell takes the part, receives praise for his sense of humor, daring, and sportsmanship, and gets lots of attention from girls. He's the toast of Mayfield!
Rare win for Eddie in this episode. Hopefully Wally became less uptight as an adult.
No one else has a problem with it, especially not his parents: Ward says he wore a grass skirt and played a hula dancer in his younger days. It's Wally's hang-up.
Eddie Haskell takes the part, receives praise for his sense of humor, daring, and sportsmanship, and gets lots of attention from girls. He's the toast of Mayfield!
Rare win for Eddie in this episode. Hopefully Wally became less uptight as an adult.
Toon in with Me
(2021– )
It's growing on me
16 February 2022
The more I see of the show, the more I find myself watching for the interstitial host segments. It's not MST3K quality (what is), but the humor seems to be getting more polished. The recent Lingonberry snack-cake mascot episode was fairly well-done and made me smile throughout. The low-rent look of it all is part of the charm. The cartoons are fine, but I saw most of the WB/Bugs Bunny offerings a million times as a kid, and also a goodly amount of the Popeyes, so it's the host segments that hold my attention. The DePattie Freleng cartoons are relatively new to me and I am enjoying those a lot; I love the late '60s artistic aesthetic and the humor is clever. Frankly I don't understand how people can whine so much about this show and its host segments, yet eat up Svengoolie, as they are both cut from very similar cloth.
Funny predicament spoiled by stilted dialogue and contrived incidents
8 February 2022
Warning: Spoilers
The blouse in question--made of a shiny satiny material, with French words embroidered on it and twin Eiffel Towers plastered right over the breasts. I suspect it was probably pink.
Cute situation hinging on a child's inability to differentiate between tacky and tasteful. Emotional complexity on display, as Wally knows the blouse is a hilariously awful gift but still feels jealous about the fuss June makes over it, and lashes out at the Beaver to make him feel bad. Wally at that in-between age, no longer a child but not yet an adult.
Good for June: she is 100% ready to go through with wearing the blouse to the Ladies' Blue Stocking Tea Party or whatever it is, until Ward all but ORDERS her not to wear it; June has to save face and act like she agrees with Ward, to avoid a spanking, I guess.
Then comes the eye-rolling: the children from the Beaver's class are conveniently bussed all the way over to the tea party just so they can sing "Old Macdonald"?? Beaver's class ONLY, no others. And this was apparently a surprise treat for the ladies, they had no knowledge of it, and the kids, who DID have advance knowledge of it, managed not to spill the beans to their mothers beforehand. All so the Beaver can catch June in a lie; ugh.
Though I do agree with a previous reviewer that the look shared between devastated son and abashed mother is a nice moment. And June's not too big to apologize, either, which I liked. Ward would probably have found a way to make it up to his kid without actually asking for forgiveness; paterfamilias can't show weakness.
There's a scene in which June comes in from cutting some flowers and Ward is coming down the stairs. "What were you doing upstairs?" June asks, shocked. This is the kind of moment and the kind of dialogue that makes the show such a target for mockery. Why would she say that, why would she be shocked? Is Ward not free to go up and down the stairs as he pleases? Is there an unspoken agreement that the residents of the house will only be upstairs at certain times of the days? Maybe he was up there using the bathroom. I guess Ward and June's bedroom is downstairs, with an en suite bathroom, giving Ward no real reason to have to go upstairs, but still! Not something a real person would find strange in their household and not something they would bother to ask about, lol.
Cute situation hinging on a child's inability to differentiate between tacky and tasteful. Emotional complexity on display, as Wally knows the blouse is a hilariously awful gift but still feels jealous about the fuss June makes over it, and lashes out at the Beaver to make him feel bad. Wally at that in-between age, no longer a child but not yet an adult.
Good for June: she is 100% ready to go through with wearing the blouse to the Ladies' Blue Stocking Tea Party or whatever it is, until Ward all but ORDERS her not to wear it; June has to save face and act like she agrees with Ward, to avoid a spanking, I guess.
Then comes the eye-rolling: the children from the Beaver's class are conveniently bussed all the way over to the tea party just so they can sing "Old Macdonald"?? Beaver's class ONLY, no others. And this was apparently a surprise treat for the ladies, they had no knowledge of it, and the kids, who DID have advance knowledge of it, managed not to spill the beans to their mothers beforehand. All so the Beaver can catch June in a lie; ugh.
Though I do agree with a previous reviewer that the look shared between devastated son and abashed mother is a nice moment. And June's not too big to apologize, either, which I liked. Ward would probably have found a way to make it up to his kid without actually asking for forgiveness; paterfamilias can't show weakness.
There's a scene in which June comes in from cutting some flowers and Ward is coming down the stairs. "What were you doing upstairs?" June asks, shocked. This is the kind of moment and the kind of dialogue that makes the show such a target for mockery. Why would she say that, why would she be shocked? Is Ward not free to go up and down the stairs as he pleases? Is there an unspoken agreement that the residents of the house will only be upstairs at certain times of the days? Maybe he was up there using the bathroom. I guess Ward and June's bedroom is downstairs, with an en suite bathroom, giving Ward no real reason to have to go upstairs, but still! Not something a real person would find strange in their household and not something they would bother to ask about, lol.
Cute but with moments of stilted dialogue
8 February 2022
Warning: Spoilers
Beaver and Larry play a trick on a younger boy, "Bengie", instilling in him the unshakeable conviction that Beaver has been transmogrified into a rock. The boy takes the rock home and, sweetly worried about Beaver in his altered state, attempts to care for it like a pet. He tells his mom "A fat kid turned him" or something to that effect. Bengie's mother worries about it maybe a tad too much and shows up at the Cleaver residence bright and early the next morning with Bengie and the rock in tow, to set things straight. Circumstances conspire to thwart her, lol.
It was heart-warming that all the adults were so concerned about Bengie's emotional distress, going so far as to retrieve the Beaver early from his weekend with Aunt Martha, driving several hours round-trip to do so, in order to put Bengie's mind at ease. They wouldn't have gone to such lengths to soothe a child in Aunt Martha's day. Or maybe they would have--Bengie is just at that right age where grown-ups can't help themselves from bending over backwards for him. I have a feeling the Beaver didn't mind having to cut his visit short too much, as Aunt Martha was making him parade around in a tie and clean socks.
Overall the episode was cute and felt like a very real slice of a child's imaginative life. Where it fails is with some of the mind-bogglingly stilted dialogue. June is packing a suitcase for the Beaver's weekend sojourn, and every time she walks in the room Wally has to know "What're you doing?" "What's that junk for?" "What're you doing now?" Wally ALREADY KNOWS his brother is going to visit their Aunt Martha; his mother is putting CLOTHES into a SUITCASE--what does he think is going on? Good grief open your frickin' eyes and use your frickin' brain, Wally. A case where the writers put dumb dialogue into a character's mouth for the purpose of extracting exposition from another character. And then at the end Wally and the Beaver have a little convo mulling over the episode's events, with a lot of "You know, you shouldn't have blah blah blah" and "You know, when you're a kid blah blah blah" in that stilted way that people of any age didn't speak then or now. Then they turn away from each other and get into their respective beds at exactly the same time and in perfect synchronicity as if they'd been rehearsing it.
It was heart-warming that all the adults were so concerned about Bengie's emotional distress, going so far as to retrieve the Beaver early from his weekend with Aunt Martha, driving several hours round-trip to do so, in order to put Bengie's mind at ease. They wouldn't have gone to such lengths to soothe a child in Aunt Martha's day. Or maybe they would have--Bengie is just at that right age where grown-ups can't help themselves from bending over backwards for him. I have a feeling the Beaver didn't mind having to cut his visit short too much, as Aunt Martha was making him parade around in a tie and clean socks.
Overall the episode was cute and felt like a very real slice of a child's imaginative life. Where it fails is with some of the mind-bogglingly stilted dialogue. June is packing a suitcase for the Beaver's weekend sojourn, and every time she walks in the room Wally has to know "What're you doing?" "What's that junk for?" "What're you doing now?" Wally ALREADY KNOWS his brother is going to visit their Aunt Martha; his mother is putting CLOTHES into a SUITCASE--what does he think is going on? Good grief open your frickin' eyes and use your frickin' brain, Wally. A case where the writers put dumb dialogue into a character's mouth for the purpose of extracting exposition from another character. And then at the end Wally and the Beaver have a little convo mulling over the episode's events, with a lot of "You know, you shouldn't have blah blah blah" and "You know, when you're a kid blah blah blah" in that stilted way that people of any age didn't speak then or now. Then they turn away from each other and get into their respective beds at exactly the same time and in perfect synchronicity as if they'd been rehearsing it.
The Mysterious Madame Trevi
6 February 2022
Warning: Spoilers
Kolchak knocks down another pin in the Night Stalker classic-monster-bowl; he's taken on vampires, werewolves, mummies, zombies, and now...a witch. And it's arguably one of Kolchak's most formidable opponents: This isn't a mindless missing link or a reflexively murderous moss monster, it's an intelligent adversary not restricted to moonlit nights; one who can use guile, misdirect, plan, strategize, stage elaborate cons, feint, parry, thrust; well, you get the idea.
The heavy in this one is so formidable, in fact, that it seems odd that a being capable of imbuing plaster mannequins with amazingly lifelike points of articulation, and plucking hidden information out of the ether, is ultimately so easily bested. She couldn't use her clairvoyance to suss out what Carl was planning and head him off at the pass...?
If there's an aspect of the show that could be called a fatal flaw, it's the formulaicness of the way Kolchak dispatches his groovy ghoulies. Each beastie has its own particular kryptonite, the one specific substance or method that will do it in, and this gift-wrapped comeuppance is always handily provided by either a resident expert, common folklore, or a book that can be found in any public library. In the years to come, THE X-FILES would be smarter in its approach to monster-of-the-week stories, realizing that ambiguity can be your friend and that instead of a decisive defeat, sometimes just staying alive until the story's end is the real victory.
My favorite part of the episode is a sequence in which Kolchak is hoodwinked--quite literally--by a very reasonable sounding lady he encounters at a book-signing, who persuades him to participate in a campy coven romp and destroy the one magical artifact that is keeping the bad guy (girl) in check. Turns out the cultists are in cahoots with "black witch" Madeline, and yet also conveniently provide Carl with the list of ingredients he'll need to make his own anti-witch deflector shield, a contradiction which didn't quite make sense to me. The other info necessary to defeat the witch comes from the author of the aforementioned book, a kind of list of prohibitions straight from Cotton Mather's field guide to witch-hunts, the unspoken implication of which is that at least some of the victims of the 17th-century witch hysteria were actually guilty of their crimes and deserved what they got.
Ah Madeline; if you were tempted, as I was, to see her as Angelique from DARK SHADOWS with a new gig, you were almost rooting for her to slip away unpunished; but then you have to remember she subjected a rival model to a painful and protracted death by scalding water. Lara Parker does a good job of giving hints of Madeline's mental instability right from the very beginning and suggesting that achieving the kind of power she wielded comes at a price, a price which she may have paid with her own sanity.
And that brings us to the mysterious Madame Trevi. She knew what Madeline was when she hired her, so presumably she hoped to benefit from the relationship in some way. She immediately set about protecting herself from Madeline's power and was stated to be able to constrain it to some degree, but then also seemed to allow Madeline to murder and maim as the witch saw fit, bringing suspicion and investigation down upon the haute couture house. What was her end game? How did she know so much about magic? The term "trevi" (the junction of three roads), goes back to ancient Rome. It made me wonder about just how long a time Mme. Trevi had been in the fashion biz.
The heavy in this one is so formidable, in fact, that it seems odd that a being capable of imbuing plaster mannequins with amazingly lifelike points of articulation, and plucking hidden information out of the ether, is ultimately so easily bested. She couldn't use her clairvoyance to suss out what Carl was planning and head him off at the pass...?
If there's an aspect of the show that could be called a fatal flaw, it's the formulaicness of the way Kolchak dispatches his groovy ghoulies. Each beastie has its own particular kryptonite, the one specific substance or method that will do it in, and this gift-wrapped comeuppance is always handily provided by either a resident expert, common folklore, or a book that can be found in any public library. In the years to come, THE X-FILES would be smarter in its approach to monster-of-the-week stories, realizing that ambiguity can be your friend and that instead of a decisive defeat, sometimes just staying alive until the story's end is the real victory.
My favorite part of the episode is a sequence in which Kolchak is hoodwinked--quite literally--by a very reasonable sounding lady he encounters at a book-signing, who persuades him to participate in a campy coven romp and destroy the one magical artifact that is keeping the bad guy (girl) in check. Turns out the cultists are in cahoots with "black witch" Madeline, and yet also conveniently provide Carl with the list of ingredients he'll need to make his own anti-witch deflector shield, a contradiction which didn't quite make sense to me. The other info necessary to defeat the witch comes from the author of the aforementioned book, a kind of list of prohibitions straight from Cotton Mather's field guide to witch-hunts, the unspoken implication of which is that at least some of the victims of the 17th-century witch hysteria were actually guilty of their crimes and deserved what they got.
Ah Madeline; if you were tempted, as I was, to see her as Angelique from DARK SHADOWS with a new gig, you were almost rooting for her to slip away unpunished; but then you have to remember she subjected a rival model to a painful and protracted death by scalding water. Lara Parker does a good job of giving hints of Madeline's mental instability right from the very beginning and suggesting that achieving the kind of power she wielded comes at a price, a price which she may have paid with her own sanity.
And that brings us to the mysterious Madame Trevi. She knew what Madeline was when she hired her, so presumably she hoped to benefit from the relationship in some way. She immediately set about protecting herself from Madeline's power and was stated to be able to constrain it to some degree, but then also seemed to allow Madeline to murder and maim as the witch saw fit, bringing suspicion and investigation down upon the haute couture house. What was her end game? How did she know so much about magic? The term "trevi" (the junction of three roads), goes back to ancient Rome. It made me wonder about just how long a time Mme. Trevi had been in the fashion biz.
Case of the lecherous old man and the hapless model
3 February 2022
Warning: Spoilers
A sculptor falls in "love" with a young Greek woman half his age and brings her and her supposed mother over to the U. S. so that he can create a statue with the girl as the model, and also so that he can shout at everyone until his innocent and guileless muse agrees to marry him.
Difficult to find anyone to root for in this one. The sculptor is obnoxious, moody, violent, drinks heavily, browbeats his associates--and yet he's a friend of Perry's so we're supposed to be in his corner. In fact, Perry and Della are all for this age-inappropriate romance! "Marry her and keep her behind locked doors" is pretty much Perry's advice; and when it appears that the model's "mother" may be pressuring her to date other suitors, there's a tendency to blame the young woman, and slander her as manipulative and heartless. Della laments how much the young vixen has "hurt" their buddy, the grizzled, drunken sculptor. Yuck.
I used the term "innocent" above, and that's a word you hear a lot in the episode as well. The sculptor uses it to describe the young model more than once; that's the main appeal she holds for him--rather than courting a woman closer to his own age and life experience, one that would be on more equal footing with him, he wants a sweet, young, innocent, naïve, unworldly, childlike, simpleminded--well, someone he can dominate, control, groom, and mold to his specifications, like the clay he works with. He even wants to separate her from her presumed mother and isolate her from other friends, so there won't be anyone to stand up for her and object to his treatment of her. (A quick word on that "mother": though several of the men in the story describe her as an awful, screeching "harridan", no behavior like that is ever shown to the viewer. She's a snob, yes, and a blackmailer, and I feared at one point that she might even be pimping out her young charge--but throughout it all she's rather softspoken and restrained in her criticism of the sculptor. It's odd that the writers were so keen to portray her as a frothing-at-the-mouth shrew from the perspective of other characters but included no scenes or dialogue for her that support it.)
The script itself is rather overcomplicated, involving a revolutionary wool-carding process and Greek tycoons and forged contracts and people who aren't who they claim to be, and I didn't find it particulary interesting; the meat here is the obsessed, possessive sculptor and his fixation on the model who never met someone she didn't like. I've noticed that several of the stories this season hinge on some kind of new invention or process; the '60s were a time of great technological advancement and it made for some handy plot points.
Eventually Perry scores yet another witness stand confession from the sculptor's equally soused-up friend, an opportunistic and ultimately murderous magazine writer played by John Anderson, who deserves the bulk of the acting accolades for the episode. His scene at the end in which he's giving testimony in a relaxed, nonchalant, possibly boozy fashion is fun to watch. He admits he tried to sabotage the sculptor's amorous intentions toward the model because he felt his pal just wasn't destined for happiness with a woman. One could hardly be blamed for wondering if the writer's affection for the sculptor wasn't a tad more than brotherly. And then finally the sculptor does indeed give up on his plan to marry his model, the only time in the entire episode I came close to liking him; he does it by handing her off to another man, as if she were something of his to give away, like a jar of olives, and though the model had earlier declared that she WAS in love with the sculptor, and willing to be his wife--maybe a bit of Stockholm Syndrome at work there--she goes off with the more age appropriate gentleman compliantly without much indication of how she feels about him. I never did understand the relationship between the model and the fake mother, and why the younger woman was so obedient to the elder. Just that kind of girl, I guess.
Difficult to find anyone to root for in this one. The sculptor is obnoxious, moody, violent, drinks heavily, browbeats his associates--and yet he's a friend of Perry's so we're supposed to be in his corner. In fact, Perry and Della are all for this age-inappropriate romance! "Marry her and keep her behind locked doors" is pretty much Perry's advice; and when it appears that the model's "mother" may be pressuring her to date other suitors, there's a tendency to blame the young woman, and slander her as manipulative and heartless. Della laments how much the young vixen has "hurt" their buddy, the grizzled, drunken sculptor. Yuck.
I used the term "innocent" above, and that's a word you hear a lot in the episode as well. The sculptor uses it to describe the young model more than once; that's the main appeal she holds for him--rather than courting a woman closer to his own age and life experience, one that would be on more equal footing with him, he wants a sweet, young, innocent, naïve, unworldly, childlike, simpleminded--well, someone he can dominate, control, groom, and mold to his specifications, like the clay he works with. He even wants to separate her from her presumed mother and isolate her from other friends, so there won't be anyone to stand up for her and object to his treatment of her. (A quick word on that "mother": though several of the men in the story describe her as an awful, screeching "harridan", no behavior like that is ever shown to the viewer. She's a snob, yes, and a blackmailer, and I feared at one point that she might even be pimping out her young charge--but throughout it all she's rather softspoken and restrained in her criticism of the sculptor. It's odd that the writers were so keen to portray her as a frothing-at-the-mouth shrew from the perspective of other characters but included no scenes or dialogue for her that support it.)
The script itself is rather overcomplicated, involving a revolutionary wool-carding process and Greek tycoons and forged contracts and people who aren't who they claim to be, and I didn't find it particulary interesting; the meat here is the obsessed, possessive sculptor and his fixation on the model who never met someone she didn't like. I've noticed that several of the stories this season hinge on some kind of new invention or process; the '60s were a time of great technological advancement and it made for some handy plot points.
Eventually Perry scores yet another witness stand confession from the sculptor's equally soused-up friend, an opportunistic and ultimately murderous magazine writer played by John Anderson, who deserves the bulk of the acting accolades for the episode. His scene at the end in which he's giving testimony in a relaxed, nonchalant, possibly boozy fashion is fun to watch. He admits he tried to sabotage the sculptor's amorous intentions toward the model because he felt his pal just wasn't destined for happiness with a woman. One could hardly be blamed for wondering if the writer's affection for the sculptor wasn't a tad more than brotherly. And then finally the sculptor does indeed give up on his plan to marry his model, the only time in the entire episode I came close to liking him; he does it by handing her off to another man, as if she were something of his to give away, like a jar of olives, and though the model had earlier declared that she WAS in love with the sculptor, and willing to be his wife--maybe a bit of Stockholm Syndrome at work there--she goes off with the more age appropriate gentleman compliantly without much indication of how she feels about him. I never did understand the relationship between the model and the fake mother, and why the younger woman was so obedient to the elder. Just that kind of girl, I guess.
Flannery O'Connor probably liked this one.
18 January 2022
Warning: Spoilers
In some of her stories she seemed to suggest that serial killers were doing God's work.
The opening is a zinger, and Peter Falk's slow-burn intensity is never less than compelling, but I have to agree that at an hour the story seems padded. Dina Merrill's character's commitment to rootlessness would only have been interesting if it had helped her in some way, or perhaps had masked a dark secret of her own. As it is, watching Falk's attempted courtship of Merrill stretches one's patience and the plot's credibility. The only real reason to stick with the episode for the entire running time is to see if Dina Merrill makes it out alive.
*** SPOILER ALERT ***
She doesn't.
A big storage trunk in a suspense-themed show is kind of like Chekhov's gun; once it's introduced, you know someone is gonna end up inside it.
The opening is a zinger, and Peter Falk's slow-burn intensity is never less than compelling, but I have to agree that at an hour the story seems padded. Dina Merrill's character's commitment to rootlessness would only have been interesting if it had helped her in some way, or perhaps had masked a dark secret of her own. As it is, watching Falk's attempted courtship of Merrill stretches one's patience and the plot's credibility. The only real reason to stick with the episode for the entire running time is to see if Dina Merrill makes it out alive.
*** SPOILER ALERT ***
She doesn't.
A big storage trunk in a suspense-themed show is kind of like Chekhov's gun; once it's introduced, you know someone is gonna end up inside it.
The consequences of the truth
14 January 2022
Warning: Spoilers
There's a funny, brief moment in this episode, after Darrin and Sam have confessed all to Darrin's mother about Sam's supernatural nature, that provides a glimpse into what life would be like for the Stephens if the magical cat really was let out of the bag. Mrs. Stephens (Darrin's mother) promises to keep the Big Secret, but of course as soon as her husband walks through the door she blabs, and then, overjoyed to have her very own magical servant--er, daughter-in-law, starts making noises about how whenever she needs something she'll just call Sam to come over and twitch her nose. She's only known about Sam being a witch for three minutes, and she's already envisioning a life of luxury and ease; you can hear it in her voice. Thank goodness a fix is found for this ill-conceived truthfulness blunder; Sam and Darrin would never have had a moment's peace again.
Also, it should be noted that the famously fickle supreme overlords of witchdom, the Witches Council (hey, I thought the witch community was governed by a monarchy; what happened to Queen Ticheba from the 4th season?), change their minds about preventing Sam from using her powers in front of mortals almost as soon as they enact the decree: at the rest home, Sam changes Mrs. Stephens' tranquilizers to hallucinogens, if not right before the eyes of the three mortals present, then certainly under their noses.
Also, it should be noted that the famously fickle supreme overlords of witchdom, the Witches Council (hey, I thought the witch community was governed by a monarchy; what happened to Queen Ticheba from the 4th season?), change their minds about preventing Sam from using her powers in front of mortals almost as soon as they enact the decree: at the rest home, Sam changes Mrs. Stephens' tranquilizers to hallucinogens, if not right before the eyes of the three mortals present, then certainly under their noses.
Different Reed Diamond
11 January 2022
The Reed Diamond who plays "Charlie" in this program is not the same person as the more well-known actor also named Reed (Edward) Diamond, who has an extensive list of acting credits, including JUDGING AMY and FRANKLIN AND BASH.
The more famous Reed Diamond used his full name early in his career, perhaps as a necessity to distinguish himself from the OTHER Reed Diamond, the one in this ABC Afterschool Special. Reed (Edward) Diamond is also younger than the Reed Diamond seen here, being born in 1967; he would only have been 7 years old when this production was filmed, and the Charlie character in the story is obviously older than that.
The more famous Reed Diamond used his full name early in his career, perhaps as a necessity to distinguish himself from the OTHER Reed Diamond, the one in this ABC Afterschool Special. Reed (Edward) Diamond is also younger than the Reed Diamond seen here, being born in 1967; he would only have been 7 years old when this production was filmed, and the Charlie character in the story is obviously older than that.
Depressing story only made worthwhile by O'Hara and Weber
17 October 2021
Warning: Spoilers
*** SPOILER FOLLOWS***
This is a story about a lonely housewife, neglected, betrayed, and occasionally insulted by her husband, who suffers an unfortunate accident, enjoys a brief "Flowers For Algernon" period of enhanced intelligence which could potentially fill her life with purpose and the joy of achievement, but instead causes her to descend into psychosis. In the end she commits suicide. Downer.
This is a story about a lonely housewife, neglected, betrayed, and occasionally insulted by her husband, who suffers an unfortunate accident, enjoys a brief "Flowers For Algernon" period of enhanced intelligence which could potentially fill her life with purpose and the joy of achievement, but instead causes her to descend into psychosis. In the end she commits suicide. Downer.
Too Many Unexplained Story Elements For Me
9 March 2021
Warning: Spoilers
I didn't understand the significance of the trees; how did they play into the mystery? There were 6 trees in Abby's visions, and 6 trees in the painting she found, but only 5 trees in reality. Was the missing 6th tree intended to represent the genuine, done-away-with Alan Smerdon?
The sculpted heads--were they in a fashion the "death masks" of the three people "Alan" and Beryl had done away with? It was never clear to me why they were so important to Beryl or why there was such an air of intrigue around them.
The Rolls Royce--who did it belong to? "Alan"? As a plot element, was it supposed to be a tip-off that "Alan" was not the anti-materialistic bohemian he pretended to be, but instead coveted luxury, and therefore might be lying about other things as well?
I was expecting at least a little expository wrapping up at the end but no such luck. The version I watched on Amazon Prime was titled "Won't Write Home, I'm Dead" (lol); perhaps some bits were edited out of it that remain in the "Terror From Within" version. I sure felt like something was missing.
The sculpted heads--were they in a fashion the "death masks" of the three people "Alan" and Beryl had done away with? It was never clear to me why they were so important to Beryl or why there was such an air of intrigue around them.
The Rolls Royce--who did it belong to? "Alan"? As a plot element, was it supposed to be a tip-off that "Alan" was not the anti-materialistic bohemian he pretended to be, but instead coveted luxury, and therefore might be lying about other things as well?
I was expecting at least a little expository wrapping up at the end but no such luck. The version I watched on Amazon Prime was titled "Won't Write Home, I'm Dead" (lol); perhaps some bits were edited out of it that remain in the "Terror From Within" version. I sure felt like something was missing.
Set up familiar, ending is inventive
26 January 2020
While the plot premise of a sinister outsider worming his way into bereaved, unsuspecting family has been done many times before and since and played out to various outcomes, the twist at the end here was delicious and I honestly didn't see it coming. It's decidedly definitive and yet retains an element of ambiguity.
Aubrey Skye has some choice moments, particularly at the end. The question "They don't hang murderers here anymore, do they?" can be taken more than one way.
Aubrey Skye has some choice moments, particularly at the end. The question "They don't hang murderers here anymore, do they?" can be taken more than one way.
Key plot point isn't well executed
25 May 2018
Warning: Spoilers
I saw this last night on MeTV at 3 a.m. so maybe part of the episode was "edited for time"--cut out to make room for more advertising. But anyway, I wasn't entirely convinced (at first) that the old millionaire's death was homicide. The way it's shown, he just clutches his chest and falls as he's coming down some stairs; I assumed he'd had a heart attack, and it's mentioned in the story that he suffered from a long time heart ailment. No one's feet or anything is seen behind him, nothing that I saw to indicate he was pushed. For a good part of the story I assumed that this was one of the rare occasions in which Jeff's certain intuition that the guy had been murdered wasn't on the beam--in fact, that would have made the script a tad more interesting; the surprise baddie in the story could still have been prosecuted for the attempted murder on Parmenter. But no, the killer confesses to the murder at the end. Speaking of which, while I won't say that the identity of the culprit behind the whole michegoss is a complete stunner, there's enough doubt in play up until the last few minutes to make it worthwhile. Also--in the version I saw there's no mention of who actually ends up with the murder victim's $100,000 bequeathal; two of the "Odettes" are obviously disqualified by 1) the terms of the will and 2) their murderous actions. So it should go to the first "Odette"! The old woman living in shabby circumstances who was the old who the old guy was actually fond of, the one who I thought was a heavily made up Barbara Bain for a few minutes; alas, it's never addressed. These quibbles aside, the episode contained the typically sharp dialogue and nice character beats of a 77 SUNSET STRIP episode. I tell ya, this series was never shown in syndicated reruns in my area when I was growing up, so catching it on late night TV has been a revelation; it's very good. While I had certainly heard of the series before, and knew a little of the "Kookie" teen craze that attended it in its initial run, 77SS seems to be one of those gems that has faded largely from public memory. Perhaps it's hour-long length made it less attractive for syndication, though that didn't hamper other popularly rerun shows that I saw as a kid like THE BIG VALLEY, LOST IN SPACE, and THE AVENGERS, so I dunno.
Haunting, unresolved question
2 May 2018
Warning: Spoilers
The plot of the episode has been recounted in numerous reviews prior to this one, including the ending, so I won't bother with that, but if you haven't read them then this is really going to SPOIL it for you.
What happened to Numa??
Where is she??
Eva, the little white girl in the story, threatened to exchange places with Numa, the black doll that could come to life like the mannequins in THE AFTER HOURS and, well, MANNEQUIN, and go "Where the woodbine twineth". And apparently at the end of the episode that's just what she did; the doll's likeness changed from that of Numa's to Eva's.
"Exchange" is the key and worrisome word. Does that mean that Eva is in Woodbine Land, with the Eva-doll remaining in our world as a sort of avatar and/or bridge between dimensions, and Numa is now stuck in our reality as a flesh-and-blood child (as Eva had been before the exchange), without I.D., without cash, without shelter, without means of support, without anyone to take care of her? Not a pleasant thought. Or did Numa retreat permanently into Woodbine World and just give the "keys" to the door between dimensions (as represented by the doll) to Eva? I hope the latter was the intended result; however it's a question that haunts.
What happened to Numa??
Where is she??
Eva, the little white girl in the story, threatened to exchange places with Numa, the black doll that could come to life like the mannequins in THE AFTER HOURS and, well, MANNEQUIN, and go "Where the woodbine twineth". And apparently at the end of the episode that's just what she did; the doll's likeness changed from that of Numa's to Eva's.
"Exchange" is the key and worrisome word. Does that mean that Eva is in Woodbine Land, with the Eva-doll remaining in our world as a sort of avatar and/or bridge between dimensions, and Numa is now stuck in our reality as a flesh-and-blood child (as Eva had been before the exchange), without I.D., without cash, without shelter, without means of support, without anyone to take care of her? Not a pleasant thought. Or did Numa retreat permanently into Woodbine World and just give the "keys" to the door between dimensions (as represented by the doll) to Eva? I hope the latter was the intended result; however it's a question that haunts.
Burr gets a chance to stretch
3 December 2014
Warning: Spoilers
Slight change of pace for IRONSIDE as the Chief has to go undercover, and Raymond Burr plays a dual role with the kind of special effects used in THE PATTY DUKE SHOW and THE PARENT TRAP.
I bet this was a fun one for Burr; he certainly seemed to be enjoying cocking his leg up on furniture as the Duffy character, something Burr had at this point been prohibited from doing for several years because of Chief Ironside not having any feeling in his own legs. I thought Burr was pretty good as Duffy, but I thought the Chief didn't do a very good job of impersonating Duffy, which, since Chief Ironside isn't supposed to be a professional actor, may have been really good acting from Burr. Hurting the credibility of the impersonation is that the Duffy character clearly has a degree of albinism, yet nothing's done to lighten Chief Ironside's skin tone whilst he's playing at being Duffy. So it doesn't make sense that the William Katt character, who is on fairly familiar terms with Duffy, should buy into the charade for as long as he does.
This is another one of those episodes in which the Chief is able to outmaneuver a murderous automobile through fancy wheelchair rolling.
I bet this was a fun one for Burr; he certainly seemed to be enjoying cocking his leg up on furniture as the Duffy character, something Burr had at this point been prohibited from doing for several years because of Chief Ironside not having any feeling in his own legs. I thought Burr was pretty good as Duffy, but I thought the Chief didn't do a very good job of impersonating Duffy, which, since Chief Ironside isn't supposed to be a professional actor, may have been really good acting from Burr. Hurting the credibility of the impersonation is that the Duffy character clearly has a degree of albinism, yet nothing's done to lighten Chief Ironside's skin tone whilst he's playing at being Duffy. So it doesn't make sense that the William Katt character, who is on fairly familiar terms with Duffy, should buy into the charade for as long as he does.
This is another one of those episodes in which the Chief is able to outmaneuver a murderous automobile through fancy wheelchair rolling.
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