Alfred Hitchcock Presents – And the Desert Shall Blossom (12/21/58)

ahpdesertblossom16Sheriff Jeff rides out to the Tom & Ben’s shack in the desert.  The town council is concerned about the two old coots living with no visible means of support.  They claim to be homesteaders but can provide no evidence of being farmers or prospectors.

Sigh . . . this is a pretty thin story that relies on a ludicrous plot-point and has a familiar ending.  There just isn’t much to grab onto here.

The Sheriff assures them that the town council just has their welfare in mind.  The fact that this beautiful location would be the perfect spot for a red rock spa resort surely plays no role in their decision, and is not mentioned here.  And where is this utopia where the government is so concerned about old people who pay no taxes and give no campaign contributions?

ahpdesertblossom13The Sheriff is on their side and just needs some evidence, any evidence that they are really homesteaders — say, growing a single crop or mining enough gold to sustain them.  The absurd plot-point is that they finally agree that if the geezers can grow a single rose bush that flowers, they can can technically be considered farmers.  Are we sure these guys aren’t making campaign contributions?  That kind of sleazy technicality is the essence of politics.

As luck would have it, they get a visitor.  A stranger’s car breaks down just in front of their shack.  The old guys tell the man — credited spoilerifically as Killer on IMDb — that the nearest town is 47 miles away.  They claim they can walk it in a day and a half which seems unlikely.  Killer pulls a gun and insists that they lead him to town.  Tom — or Ben, it really doesn’t matter — gets his hand on a pistol and shoots Killer with one of those AHP patented one-shot kills.  This series wounds less people than Jack Bauer.

ahpdesertblossom30One month later, the Sheriff comes by again looking for Killer.  He doesn’t find Killer, but the boys do show him a thriving rose bush on top of a burial plot-shaped mound of dirt.

In Alfred Hitchcock’s closing remarks, as usual, he assures the audience — and by audience, I mean FCC —  that the old fellows were caught and punished.  In an unusual departure, however, he actually says that after using Killer for fertilizer, they continued the practice with other criminals and innocent passersby.

That comment and the camaraderie of the guys are the only reasons to sit through this episode.  I rate it 17.5 out of Isaiah 35.

Post-Post:

  • AHP Deathwatch:  No survivors.
  • Title Analysis: Very good.  Streamlined from the source, but still identifiable.  Even more on-point if you look at the original.
  • Killer played Chief Bell in The Thirty-Fathom Grave.

Twilight Zone S4 – On Thursday We Leave for Home (05/02/63)

tzonthursday0115William Benteen is in charge of 187 people on a distant rock.  They left the earth 30 years ago, according to Serling, “In search of a new millennium.”  The year is 1991, so the joke’s on them — they could have stuck around and it would have soon come to them.  After three decades, the earth has become a distant memory for many and a legend for the young.  Now they have finally received a signal that a rescue ship will arrive in one month.

As the ship gets closer, like the men of the Indianapolis, the colonists just get more tense.  A woman commits suicide — the ninth in the last six months.  At the funeral, Benteen leads them in a chant of “There’s a ship coming” over and over as sort of a hypnotic Kool-Aid.  Despite his autocratic ways, four out of five colonists recommend Benteen.[1]

A meteor shower breaks up the festivities and forces the colonists into a cave.  The meteors might be the flashiest special effects ever seen on TZ.  Through a combination of flash-bombs, camera tricks, and the crew throwing rocks at the actors, this really comes off as a great, chaotic event.  In the cave, Benteen displays his additional role as the camp doctor.  Later he is the camp counselor as he comforts kids from 6 to a creepy 30 with his stories of earth, and how they fled wars and came to this arid rock. They hear a ship landing and suddenly the soil isn’t so arid any more — they are very excited.  Hey, it’s the spacecraft from Death Ship [2] — maybe we’ll meet TV’s Oscar Madisoy!

tzonthursday0141Like the meteor shower, the close-up of the ship is like nothing seen before in TZ.  In fact, many of the sets for this episode are the best in the show’s run.  The cavernous . . er, cavern, the shanty town, the bleak landscape, the number of extras — all are on a scale never seen before.

Commander Sloan comes down the ramp of the ship and tells the group they are taking them back to earth. The group erupts in celebration.  Even Benteen is elated.  He does seem a little irritated that Sloan calls him Mr. instead of Captain Benteen.  He didn’t rule this group for 30 years to be called “Mr.”  He is further threatened when Sloan offers more advance medical care to the group, and is seen as the group’s “messiah.”

At a gathering in the cave, Benteen instructs the colonists on the dates and weights of the flight out.  Sloan takes over the gathering and takes questions from the crowd. Benteen is irritated at his loss of control.  As their caps have almost the same logo as the Miami Heat, Sloan suggests a game of baseball to get in the earth-spirit, Benteen tells the crowd it is dangerously hot and tries to engage them in a singalong instead, but is less successful than Carter Burke.  He tells Sloan that while they are still on the planet, he is in charge.

tzonthursday0181Later on the ship Benteen tells Sloan that he expects his group to stay together after the return to earth — under his watchful eye.  He has not asked their opinion on this.  He regards them as children — he must decide what is best for them. Fearing he is losing his grip on his flock, he gets the group together in the cave. As they ask about different parts of the US, he tells them they will all stay together and he magnanimously agrees to continue as their leader.

When they protest, he desperately begins to tell them how awful earth is, and how they must stay together.  They take a vote and Benteen is humiliated.  Throughout the episode, the 110 degree heat has covered Benteen in a sheen of sweat. Now it serves as further illustration of his desperation.  He attacks the ship in a futile gesture.

He watches as his people board the ship.  He just can’t leave this place that he has ruled for 30 years.  Even after they have evacuated, Benteen goes back to the cave and preaches to his imaginary flock.  Eventually, he realizes that he has been left alone on the planet and runs outside, pleading to the skies, “Don’t leave me here!”

It really is an effective, heartbreaking ending.  Unlike other TZ episodes, his desolation is not a hallucination (Where is Everybody?), there is no hint of irony or humor (Time Enough at Last), and he doesn’t even have a sexy robot for company (The Lonely).  He is alone on this planet, a man whose entire being was invested in his community.  It is surely his own fault, but this is a man who took control of a stranded bunch of colonists and kept them alive for 30 years.  The burden of that responsibility, then the sudden loss of that status would mess anyone up.  He is, at once, a victim of himself and of circumstances.  The key to the episode is that Serling keeps Benteen human.  He was controlling, but maybe necessarily so.  He didn’t deserve to live the next 40 years alone.

tzonthursday0189Serling:  “William Benteen — once a god, now a population of one.”

There are several reviews that cite this episode as being the best of the 4th season, and one of the best of the series.  Let’s not get crazy.  I would slice & dice it a little more — it is probably Serling’s best script of the 4th season.  In some ways it is not even a Twilight Zone script. There is no twist, no great irony; the ending is more horrific than usual.  It is, however, a great piece of drama that seems like it could have played on any of the dramatic anthology series in the “Golden Age.”

I set the alarm for 9 on this episode.

Post-Post:

  • [1] Sadly, I misremembered this slogan as being for Dentyne when it was actually Trident.  Maybe I should have gone for Bactine.
  • [2] And Forbidden Planet and six other TZ episodes.
  • It is an interesting choice that the group does not seem to have buttons on their clothes, but have ties and lashes.  Our Amish are better than their Amish.
  • Early in the episode there is the most lengthy, blatant microphone shot I have ever seen in a TV show.  The mic in Kentucky Fried Movie was less obtrusive.
  • As usual on TZ, there was not a 3rd grader on the set to correct their scientific inaccuracies.  This planet is described as being a billion miles away — not even out of our solar system.
  • There was, however, a 2nd grader on set — director Buzz Kulik cast his son Daniel.  To cover up this blatant act of nepotism, Daniel’s last name is spelled Kulick in the credits, completely fooling everyone.
  • James Whitmore looks amazingly like Alan Tudyk.

Hannie Caulder (1972)

hanniecaulder71aThe long-threatened western.

It took some time with Google to remember what made me watch this. Turns out, it was a reference in a review of Jane Got a Gun to the hat worn here by Raquel Welch.[1]  Leave it to the New Yorker to remember Raquel’s iconic role as hat-centric, rather than the obviouses.  But then, the new movie stars waifish Natalie Portman, so a comparison couldn’t really be drawn based on Raquel’s usual calling cards.

The Clemens brothers [2] ride up to the local banco (bank, according to Google Translate).  In a scene sure to warm The Donald’s heart, the Mexican Police are all comically lying about, taking siestas in the sun as the gang robs the banco across the street; also heart-warming because they are still in Mexico.  An overzealous teller triggers the non-silent alarm — i.e. a bell with a rope — waking up the policias, triggering a chase on horseback with a great pounding orchestral score.

hanniecaulder01The three gringos — despite one being shot and another being Ernest Borgnine — escape the pursing cops. They stop at an adobe ranch house where a man introduces himself as Jim Caulder — I don’t like his odds.  Not surprisingly, he is dispatched within seconds and the gang goes inside to find the titular Hannie Caulder.  Over a static shot of the house we hear her screams as she is raped.  Nothing funny about that, although there is an odd bit of business with one of the men being thrown out the front door . . . twice.  Or maybe they were different men; they were indistinguishable from the distance.  No idea what they were going for there.

The next morning, the gang stumbles out the front door and leaves Hannie and her burning house behind as they oddly just walk their horses away.  It is a nice shot as she comes out of the flaming house holding a serape around her to find her bloody husband dead.  Like all good movie characters, she digs a back-breaking grave in the desert and buries her husband without breaking a sweat; a glistening, clothes-clinging sweat.

hanniecaulder32Up rides bounty hunter Thomas Price (Robert Culp) asking for water from her well. Hannie quite understandably points a rifle at him.  He easily takes it from her, but she is learning the ways of men . . . and brains him when his back is turned.  They end up riding together to find a gunsmith to outfit Hannie.  As you would expect, the gunsmith is played by Christopher Lee.  Wait, what?

After they are attacked by a band of illegal aliens — wait, I mean citizens — we see that Hannie has become a killer.  They ride to a town where they meet up with the Clemens bothers.  Hannie’s luck with men continues as Price is knifed by 1/3 of the Clemens gang.

The ending is a little anti-climactic, but it might have not been so at the time.  This was an early example of the rape-revenge genre, so maybe audiences were shocked enough just by a woman avenging her rape, that it had an excitement not conceivable today.  Hannie is also ahead of her time in getting off some good zingers as she kills the bad guys.  Finally, there is a strange deus ex Messala appearance by Stephen Boyd that makes no sense to me, and undermines Hannie’s accomplishment.  That’s men for ya.

hanniecaulder55It is obvious this was filmed in the early days of Hollywood’s new freedom.  A few son-of-a-bitches and asses are thrown around, but they come off as being spoken by a 10 year-old who just discovered them. There is no weight to them — to be fair, a lesson Martin Scorsese still has not learned.

Shockingly, Raquel is the best performer in the film.  Culp is perfectly fine in a TV movie sort of way, but nothing special.  The Clemens brothers are just boobs.  Ernest Borgnine screams every line.  Strother Martin and Jack Elam are just there for the comic effect of their antics and squabbling, but consistently fail.  Raquel, however, pulls it together with as much subtlety as the role allows, and with her natural beauty.  I’ll go out on a limb here and say there is just a pleasure in watching her on the screen that you don’t get from, say, Ernest Borgnine.  Strangely for the era, and for this actress in particular, there really is no gratuitous exploitation of her looks or figure.  Well, one shot of her bare back, but nary a hint of side-boob.

hanniecaulder23

The only example I’m aware of that has shotgun-POV. Literally, first-person-shooter as the viewer is the shotgun.

There is enough thick red paint for a barn-raising, although not the projectile bleeding that Sam Peckinpah was pioneering at the time.  The natural pre-CGI sets, the natural pre-silicone set, the non-Clemens performances, and the always-welcome story of a woman getting revenge make this a good one.

Post-Post:

  • [1] The New Yorker only referenced Hannie Caulder to say that, bad as it was, it still “blew away” Jane Got a Gun.  It did, however, say that the supporting cast had “gusto.”
  • [2] Ernest Borgnine, Jack Elam and Strother Martin.  Say, this supporting cast does have gusto!
  • Director Burt Kennedy previously directed Support Your Local Sheriff.  In 1969, the other New York braintrust over at the Times called it “dreadful”, illustrating that the NYT’s utter detachment from reality is nothing new.  The trailer I linked actually is pretty poorly done, but the film itself is 2nd only to Blazing Saddles in the comedy-western genre.  Granted, with competition like A Million Ways to Die in the West and The Ridiculous Six, the bar is lower than the saloon’s in The Terror of Tiny Town.
  • OK, the hat was pretty cool.

Fear Itself – Eater (07/03/08)

It takes two cops to bring Duane “Eater” Mellor into the station.  They install him in the kind of cage that we need more of — unpainted, crumbling walls, exposed bricks, a metal toilet.

After the officers leave, he pulls a butt-plug out of his sleeve, rattles it, and begins chanting.  Upon closer examination, it might be some sort of voodoo paraphernalia.  It has feathers on on end, so would be ticklish in either case.

At the night shift roll call, the guys are making fun of Officer Dani [1] Bannerman [2] for reading a horror magazine.  The Sargent advises them that Eater is upstairs.  “Over the last two years, he has killed over thirty people in five different states [3].  In each case, he took the victims home, usually killing the males outright; keeping the females alive for days, sometimes weeks, playing with them, torturing them, and eventually eating them.”

Dani is quite the horror fan, correcting the other dopes when they get facts wrong about Silence of the Lambs.  She can’t wait to get her hands on Eater’s file to check out the grizzly pictures.  The other cops are fairly dickish, teasing her for being a girl-cop.  She is slapped on the head with a magazine, food is rubbed on her uniform, and an inflatable sex doll is hidden in her locker.

As Dani reads the file, she imagines the scene where Eater cuts off a captive woman’s tongue and fries it up.  Despite not being very bloody, this is admirably horrific for network television.  When he goes back for seconds and raises the tin-snips to her nose, I was genuinely disgusted.  Kudos to everyone involved.

Dani goes upstairs to take a fan-girlish look at the killer.  She is worried when she sees him motionless under a blanket in the cell.  The rest of the episode is an exercise in suspense and mistaken identity.  Eater is a Cajun which — like being African American on Tales From the Crypt — automatically means he has voodoo powers.  You rarely see mystical Asian stereotypes because that would mean they would have to hire Asians. He has eaten the hearts of Dani’s fellow officers Mattingley and Steinwitz, and is thereby able to shape-shift into their form.  In fact, he is so skilled at the blackened arts that he is able to shape-shift into their differently ranked uniforms also.

That is both the appeal and the curse of the episode.  Mattingley and Steinwitz as themselves were obnoxious jerks of Trumpian proportions.  When possessed by Eater, they become even worse — fidgety, sweaty and grotesque.  As the last half of the episode consists of each them alternately alone with Dani as she figures out what they really are, they wear out there welcome very quickly.

Finally, the Sargent comes back and Dani shows him the two officers’ dead bodies. Unfortunately, there is a third dead body.  As in Triangle, Timecrimes and others that don’t leap to mind, its head is conveniently covered.  When Dani unmasks him, it is the real Sargent — dead with a hole in his forehead.  This is strange as the ritual was said to require a still-beating heart — so why the head-shot?

The end is abrupt, silly and awesome.  Another good episode from the short-lived series. They got away with some surprisingly gruesome images and a pretty graphic blowjob gag (no pun intended).  Elizabeth Moss as Bannerman really made the episode.  Russell Hornsby as the Sargent and Stephen R. Hart as Eater were both solid, but were not on screen as much as Moss.  Maybe the other two cops needed to be repulsive to make the story work — if so, well done.

Post-Post:

  • [1] IMDb credits Elizabeth Moss as Danny, but that just doesn’t work for me.
  • [2] A clear reference to Stephen King.  Sheriff George Bannerman appeared in five King novels / short stories.
  • [3] I have to give Fear Itself credit — they don’t believe in half measures or full lives. The killer in Family Man with 26 must be humiliated net to this maniac

Tattooed Blonde – Ellery Watson Calder (1935)

sascoverA young, lithe and beautiful blonde is on stage at a rally screaming at the crowd.

You spineless cowards!  Are you going to let the Dixon interests get away with their high-handed methods?  Are you going to let them pay you slave’s wages forever?  Are you going to let them treat your women as they’ve treated me?

With a dramatic gesture, the girl’s hands went to the neck of her cheap cotton dress.  She ripped at the material — tore it open.  Terry Dixon gasped.  In the nickering flare of the torches that lighted her, he saw her suddenly-bared breasts, unbrassiered, and incredibly lovely.  Across her milk-white bosoms, standing out boldly against the satin-smooth skin appeared the word “Striker”.

Terry Dixon is appalled and knows his family would not have abused the girl like that.  A “huge, hulking man, beetle-browed and powerful” takes the stage — Stanislaus Slavich implores the crowd to strike against Dixon Mill.  After his speech, the girl finally “drew the torn shreds of her dress over her naked breasts.”  Dixon follows her to a one-room shack at the edge of the company compound.

He peers through a window and sees she is alone.  He breaks down the door, ties her wrist and ankles, and gags her.  “With a savage gesture, he tore the cheap cotton dress away from her shrinking shoulders, baring her body to the waist.  For an instance his eyes rested upon her exposed beautiful breasts.”  He grabs a washcloth and begins scrubbing the tattoo, although we are sadly lacking the critical 4-page scene where he soaps her up.

Slavich bursts in and tells Dixon that he has played right into his hands by coming to the shack.  He plans to hold Dixon hostage until his father gives in to the strikers’ demands. Now Dixon is the one with his wrists and ankles tied.  Thankfully, he is not stripped. They stuff Dixon into a car and take him to a cabin in the woods.

The girl sneers, “With this guy captured, his old man will have to agree to the demands of the workers.  If he does, the increased wages will bankrupt him.  If he doesn’t, the men will strike — and the mill will close anyhow.

Slavich — no rocket scientist — leaves to personally deliver the ransom note.  In his absence, the girl breaks into a trunk and retrieves a document proving that Slavich is an agent for a competing mill.  His agitation for a strike is just to bankrupt Dixon Mills.  The girl reveals that she is a Pinkerton operative who was undercover to get the goods on Slavich.

Unfortunately, as she is cutting Dixon loose, Slavich returns.  Ticked off at being described by the author as beetle-browed for the third time, Slavich lunges at the girl. “He grabbed at her, ripped the tattered dress from her shoulders.  Naked to the waist, she backed away from him, her bared breasts rising and falling swiftly, pantingly.” This girl’s boobs get more fresh air than Bear Grylls. [1]

Dixon manages to get free and beats Slavich to a spicy pulp.  He averts the strike, foils the competition, and gets the topless girl.

Post-Post:

  • [1] Alternatively:  Her bare girls get more fresh air than Bear Grylls.
  • First published in April 1935.
  • As far as I can tell, the girl never has a name.
  • Maybe the only book, short story, poem, movie, TV show, play, or folk song in history where Management is the good guy.