Outer Limit – Tribunal (05/14/99)

I think I’ll pass on this one.

It begins in a German Concentration Camp.  The excellent production values immediately pull you in.  The camp, the crowds, the costumes, the casting . . . all show that they took extra care with this episode.  It is so effective and so evocative of The Holocaust that I’m not interested in fooling around with it.  I doubt you’ll see Cinema Sins doing Everything Wrong with Schindler’s List.

A few random comments:  Saul Rubinek is less annoying than usual; certainly more tolerable than in Gotcha!  Lindsay Crouse is always welcome.

This is the first time I recall an Outer Limits episode title being shown in anything other than the standard OL font.  TRIBUNAL is shown in a classic German font (like Wolfenstein).  This is strange because the titular tribunal is not in Nazi Germany.  Their representative is not even German. [1]  I don’t see the point.

Outer Limits is usually pretty tame on the language and graphic violence.  This one did contain one of their most graphic, or at least brutal, kills.

There is a dedication at the end by the writer.  It is a tragic real-world cap to the episode.  It just seemed disrespectful to include it here.

It doesn’t feel right to say this was one of Outer Limits’ best episodes.  Even though the story has strong sci-fi elements, the real-world connection puts it in its own class.  It is excellent, though.

Footnotes:

  • [1] I don’t know Alex Diakun’s ethnicity, but he did play Indian Joe on Huckleberry Finn and his Friends.  Wait, Indian Joe?  I guess it makes sense to sanitize the nickname for a kid’s show.  Otherwise Huck’s friend Jim wouldn’t be in it at all.

Science Fiction Theatre – Bullet Proof (05/11/56)

“One of the most important parts of air research is the efforts of the metal scientists known as robots metallurgists.”  They are researching materials that can withstand super-sonic speeds in aircraft.  Drs. Connors and Rudman are witnessing another failure in the wind tunnel as a model melts from 2,500 MPH winds.

Dr. Rudman’s daughter Jean enters because, as is usually the case on SFT, the older scientist has no wife, but has a hot daughter.  Also, typical of the show, Rudman’s protege happens to be dating the daughter.  They go out to dinner, leaving Rudman to his work.  He is interrupted by a man in black.

The intruder introduces himself as Ralph Parr and says he just escaped from prison.  He knows Rudman has been researching metals and pulls a roll of black metal from his jacket.  He demonstrates how the material can be rolled up, and can be easily cut.  Then he pulls out a pistol and fires several shots at it.  He says, “Lead bounces on this stuff like spitballs off a brick wall.”  Hunh, his spit bounces?  Maybe this was during the polar vortex of ’56.

Parr asks Rudman what it is worth, and the scientist says, “Priceless, absolutely priceless.”  Rudman worries that he is being scammed, but Parr assures him, “Just because I’m a con doesn’t mean I’m a fake.”  He hands Rudman the gun and tells him to try it himself.  Once he has the gun, Rudman demands that Parr give him the key to the door, although I’m not clear why Parr has the key to a door in Rudman’s house.

When Parr makes a move, Rudman fires the gun.  Unfortunately, the bullet ricochets off the mysterious metal and he hits himself.  They aren’t fooling around — the shot hits him right in the melon.  He puts a hand to his face and falls to the floor.

Soon after, a crime wave is sweeping the city.  The police say the robber has “a strange disregard for firearms.”  They know his identity but “the mystery of the Bullet-Proof man goes unsolved.”  Dr. Connors inexplicably deduces the Bullet-Proof man is the same man who killed Rudman.  In the lab, he says, “Whatever the killer stole from this room made him Bullet-Proof.”  So, he is completely wrong in both of his deductions.  We need an act break to sort this out.

OK, the BP man continues his one-man crime wave.  We see the police firing at him as he runs away wearing a cone over his head, or maybe it is the governor of Virginia.  Such are the amazing properties of this metal that it somehow prevents the police from firing at his chest, or even chasing him.  OK, maybe he is wearing metal long johns, but he seems pretty agile. [1]

Still pursuing his theories 2 weeks later, Connors goes to see George Martin, president of the nation’s largest steel mill who oddly went on to be the Beatles’ go-to producer.  Connor wants Martin to issue a press release announcing to the BP man that the metal he possesses would be worth a billion dollars!  Parr later hears the announcement on the radio.

Jean and Connors go see Martin after he hears from Parr.  Martin says, “He took the bait, but he priced it a little high — $50,000.”  Bloody record executives!  Wait, was $50k more than a billion in the 1950s?  I know the British changed the definition of billion; did we do that too?

Martin stuffs the $50k into a valise.  Connors will deliver the loot to Parr.  That afternoon, the Connors and Parr meet in the desert.  To prove the density of the metal, Parr takes off the black metal cone from his head and sets it on the ground.  He fires a bullet that ricochets off the cone.  The bullet does not penetrate, and does not even knock the cone over.  That also demonstrates the density of the writer.

Connors asks how Parr knew Rudman had this metal, and Parr finally sets him straight.  The night he escaped prison, he saw a UFO.  He shows Connors some of the debris left behind by the aliens.  Connors thinks maybe we can use that metal to visit their planet.  Like every villain on AHP, Parr gets busted.  He is pretty chill, though.  When the cops take the $50k, he says, “Easy come, easy go.”

Footnotes:

  • Sadly, the regularly scheduled episode When a Camera Fails does not seem to be online anywhere.
  • [1] BP later describes the cone as being “hot as a furnace”, so I don’t think he is wearing the aforementioned long johns.

 

Alfred Hitchcock Presents – The Doubtful Doctor (10/04/60)

We start out in the office of the titular doubtful doctor.  Being the first to appear and with his prominence in the title, you might think this episode is about him.  Strangely, he is a very minor character and doesn’t even get a name; but you, for goddamn sure, better call him “Doctor“.

Ralph Jones has come to see a psychiatrist.  Jones flashes back to a strange experience he had recently.  He came home after a lousy day at work.  He immediately began sniping at his wife Lucille.  Their baby had swallowed a button that morning and she did not call to tell him everything was OK.  Of course, he didn’t pick up a phone and call either.

Also her brother needed $200 to close the “uptown option” and Ralph had just given him $300 to close the “downtown option”.  By “option” I think he meant prostitute, but I might be having my own flashback.

Also, their rent is going up, Lucille wants another button-muncher (another baby, not another lover), and on top of everything else, the f***ing Hornsbys are coming over for dinner!  He says, “Things seem to be closing in all of a sudden,” and pours himself a drink.  Lucille asks, “Must you drink before you shower?”  The real question is “Why not drink in the shower?”  What a time saver!  I thought shaving in the shower was good, but this is better.  He admits to Lucille that he misses his bachelor days, which goes over about as well as you would expect.

He says he doesn’t remember exactly when “it” happened.  He left the apartment, and got in the elevator.  Then he woke up in his old bachelor apartment.  He was surprised to see snow in July, but maybe Al Gore was coming to lecture.  He found his old clothes in the closet, and a calendar from 2 years ago.  His surly landlord knocked on the door and demanded the two months overdue rent.  The landlord is portrayed with the anger and humorless rage of a man owed three months back rent.  Seriously, this guy is like Pauly Walnuts.

Ralph decided to go talk about this with his then-fiancee Lucille at her old job at the Eagle Soap Company.  He told Lucille that he knew in one hour, her boss would sign as a new account for Ralph and they would go to lunch.  Strangely, her boss is out of town.  Did he get the date wrong, or is the past changing?  Then Lucille doesn’t like salmon, but she had ordered it on their first date.  Even more strange, she does go to lunch with this nut.

They went their separate ways after lunch.  Ralph took a walk down to the construction site which would be his apartment someday.  Lucille went back to the Eagle Soap Factory where it was her turn to test out various bath oils and creams as men with clipboards watched through a two-way mirror [footage missing].

Ralph sat down at the construction site, not sure where to go.  He bought some baseball cards off a kid who, surprisingly, was not him.  Then drowned himself.  Yada yada, Ralph goes back to the future.  And somehow has the wet baseball cards with him.

This was more like a Twilight Zone episode.  It was more like a Twilight Zone episode than some of the 1980s Twilight Zones I’ve posted about here.  Even before you get to the paranormal twist [1], that construction site is about as post-apocalyptic as you see on 1950s TV (there is a little trash and some 4X4s lying not quite parallel).  The score also is pretty eerie at this point.

There were similar twists in several TZ episodes.  For example, just 5 days before this aired, TZ ran King Nine Will Not Return — a dude inexplicably goes back in time, and returns with tangible evidence of his experience.  Pretty close.

Dick York is great in his niche, unfortunately I don’t think this was it.  He was Ludacris as a gangster in Vicious Circle.  However, he rebounded as smiling psychopaths in The Dusty Drawer and The Blessington Method.  There was not much room for his humorous side in this episode.  He came off as crazy and angry — a pencil-necked Brian Keith.  Even this is OK when he is in a comic situation, but there is no Endora or Dr. Bombay here to play off of.  Could have been worse; could have been Dick Sargent.

Not a bad episode, but York was a little grating and the supernatural element just seemed out of place.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Hey, that should have been the B-Side to The Monster Mash.

Twilight Zone – Special Service (04/08/89)

John Sellig is shaving and thinking how much he looks like the guy from American Werewolf in London.  He is using a noticeably odd wall-mirror, small and not part of a medicine cabinet.  That design is necessary as one side suddenly gives way and the mirror begins swinging.  It reveals a camera behind the mirror.

John calls for his wife, but an English guy enters the bathroom instead and repairs the mirror.  I have no beef with the English, but this guy is just awful.  Being the 1980s TZ, you know there is a good chance they will squander a good premise.  I peeked ahead, and sure enough this is prime example.

They take an idea so good that The Truman Show won Oscars for it 9 years later, strip away all the nuance, slap on one of their patented, god-awful scores, and completely blow it.  Archie is just the first sign.  His chirpy demeanor, unthreatening accent, and tubby body are the perfect metaphor for this show.  Take anything unique, and grind it down until it is a featureless ball with no edges.  I know they only had 20 minutes to work with, but somehow Rod Serling did it 25 years earlier, backwards and in heels (although I might be mixing up 2 Hollywood stories).

David Naughton is a fine actor, but completely miscast here (actually he is well-cast for what TZ wanted to do — they were just wrong).  He always seems like a nice, dull, relatable guy on-screen.  That’s what made him effective in American Werewolf.  He was an average guy thrust into something horrific (lycanthropy, not Jenny Agutter).  When you take a dull guy and water down the conflict, you just get a dull, wet guy.

The story, such as it is, doesn’t even play by its own rules.  WTF would Archie show up to cover up the mirror?  How was he there so quickly?  Why is he English?  How does he think taking John into a closet to talk is not suspicious to viewers?  Then why does he keep spilling the beans after they leave the closet and go to the front door?  The ending tries to be clever.  In a way, it is, but I’m not even sure they meant it that way.

How to wrap up this mess?  Have John tap dance in his living room while the dreadful closing narration decisively undermines the episode.  There might be no better example in this series of an great idea just pissed away.

Other Stuff:

  • Title Analysis:  Hunh?  Special Service?  There is no way, in combination or individually, that I can relate these words to the episode.

Gangster’s Brand – P.T. Luman (1931)

Two small, trim feet, then shapely legs in thin silk swung below the fire-escape in the dim light of the area way.  They swung for only an instant then dropped ten feet to the concrete pavement below . . . Carlotta Wynn, active member of “Mort” Mitchell’s mob waited expectantly for the opportunity to plug the guys who had spoiled one of the prettiest lays the gang had had for many a month.

Now that’s how you hook a reader.  Although it turns out the “lay” is not Carlotta, but the criminal opportunity that was just lost.  Mort, Carlotta, “Rod” Crandall, and “Needle” Schwartz get into the getaway car and flee the scene of the non-crime, while “Needle” wonders why “Rod” gets all the girls.  For the 3rd time, the gang has been foiled in a planned heist.  They take the getaway car to their hideaway at bar Dapper Dan’s Speakeasy.

Mort wants to find the rat.  They retrace the crime from the very beginning, but start after the basic part where they are all sociopathic parasites.  They got the tip from The Hag.  She is a hideous crone who hangs out in front of the Metropolitan Opera panhandling with a sob-story that she used to be beautiful and a dancer in the show herself; on the plus side, she no longer has to listen to the operas.  She told the gang she overheard the Vanderdoodies would be away from home and their diamonds left unguarded.

Hmmm, come to think of it, she gave them bad intel on their last three heists.  Mort thinks The Hag might be working with “Blackie” Rang’s gang to run Mort out of the business.  He assigns Carlotta to go to The Met on Friday and watch The Hag. He doesn’t tell her to actually watch the opera; the man’s not a monster.  He is a little oblivious, though.  The beautiful Carlotta has the hots for him, but he throws it in her face that he is stepping out that night with the vivacious Vi Carroll.  Little does he know Vi is in cahoots with Blackie.

Back at Blackie’s lair, he tells Vi they will try the old “passing Mort a bum tip via The Hag” scam a FOURTH time to lure him to the ol’ Horton place for a hot lead dinner.  How dumb are these people?  He mentions that Mort’s moll Carlotta never bares her right shoulder and Vi nervously realizes she knew her by a different name back in Chi-town.

Thanks to Carlotta’s spy work, Mort does not take the bait this time.  So Rango tells Vi to try the exact same scam a FIFTH time!  This guy makes that meathead Sonny Corleone look like a master strategerist.  Mort and Carlotta are a step ahead of them, finally, and turn this into a set up.

The shoulder thing is explained, and the good guys win.  Well, not good guys, but at least our bad guys.  Actually, I’m not even sure why they are our bad guys; we just happened to be introduced to them first.

It is a fine story with some good twists and three interesting dames.

Other Stuff:

  • First published in the August 1931 issue of Gun Molls Magazine.
  • Born that month:  Barbara Eden and Regis Philbin.  One of them was prohibited from showing their belly button on TV on the 1960s.