Tales from the Crypt – The Pit (11/30/94)

Felix Johnson and Aaron Scott are on a talk show after their epic bout ended in a draw.  They seem like pretty good guys, but their girls — holy shit!  They snipe at each other and get bleeped.  It’s funny, but who is bleeping them?  Not HBO broadcasting TFTC.  Not the sports talk show that we are watching live.  But that’s a nitpicky observation.

We next see Aubrey Scott screaming at Aaron’s agent that he better start landing some Schwarzeneggarian parts or else!  And none of that Raw Deal or Red Heat [2] shit.  The conversation cuts to Andrea Johnson having exactly the same conversation.  And I mean exactly the same as the perspective changes in mid-sentence, although they do wimp out and pivot on a comma.

Fight promoter Wayne Newton is on the phone — wait, what?  Wayne Newton is a pompous, hammy, big-haired caricature.  Who cast this guy?  Some genius, that’s who!  He is a perfect addition to TFTC — what took so long?  He is enthralled when he watches the brutal Johnson-Scott fight.  The savagery increases when their wives are then separately interviewed.

Both are aggressively trying to land their husband the lead in the new Pulverizer movie.  Andrea calls Aubrey a slut and says if she wants to get her husband a role, it should be in Police Academy 10.  Aubrey suggests Andrea and her husband might be better suited to game shows than the big screen.  The host, who has a future on 1970s AM radio, says, “Be careful what you wish for guys, you just might get it!”  Well they didn’t really wish for anything, bub.  And if they had wished something evil for the other person . . . how would that hurt them?  And is it really so terrible to be in a long-running movie franchise or game show?  Neither one of these guys is going to be Robert De Niro (although both seem to have suffered fewer concussions). [1]

Newton has a great idea for the fighters — a Malaysian-Rules Deathmatch!  If that isn’t a real thing, it oughta be.  A lot of talking follows — most of it is from the wives, but isn’t that always the case?  But there is a lot of pretty brutal fighting, too — also from the wives.

Even though it took me 3 weeks and multiple sessions to get through it, I liked it.  The guys were fun even though it was clear that they were portrayed by actual fighters rather than actors.  The wives were so petty and scheming that I think they actually were actresses.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] It’s about class, not politics.
  • [2] Actually, I have seen neither.  It took me 20 years to watch Eraser and it was pretty good.

Outer Limits – Joyride (02/26/89)

Kudos for setting this fictional Mercury spaceflight after the last actual launch rather than trying to shoehorn a fictional event into the timeline.  September 16, 1963 was 4 months after “Gordo Cooper went higher and farther and faster than any other American . . . and for a brief moment, became the greatest pilot anyone had ever seen.”  They even correctly name the capsule with a 7 at the end. [1]  No surprise that the whole space program is shown respect — this was not filmed in America, after all.

Unfortunately, Captain Harris’ flight is not as uneventful as Gordo’s.  He sees some purple pyrotechnics which approach, then engulf his craft.  He is forced to abort the mission.  Cut to 38 years later when he is in Washington still being questioned about the event.  He insists that it was not a blackout or space dementia.  He believes it was an alien intelligence trying to communicate.  His goal is to convince the panel that he is sane enough to go on a shuttle flight.

The panel is not likely to let a 74 year old civilian on an expensive flight where space and weight are critical factors.  Of course, if you are a 77 year old senator, your useless ass is welcome for a billion dollar joyride.  Luckily Carlton Powers comes to the rescue.  He is an Elon Musk type except he actually completes projects, and also doesn’t expect me to chip in at gunpoint on his products via my taxes.  Powers just happens to have a privately funded shuttle that is ready to fly.

Before the launch, Powers introduces the passengers and says they will be doing 31 orbits.  On board, we have Powers, Harris, newlyweds looking to join the 136 mile high club, a tabloid reporter, and Andrea Martin.  Wait, what?

When no one is looking, Harris sneaks a new disk into the ship’s computer.  This causes the ship to move to a 166 mile orbit — the same orbit where he saw the purple lights.  Even worse, when the pilot and Powers go to the cabin to check on a sick passenger, Harris locks himself in the cockpit.  Apparently being SPAM in a can 38 years ago is all the training you need to pilot a modern space shuttle.

Powers and the pilot retake the cockpit and subdue Harris.  He gets loose, though, puts on a spacesuit and blows himself . . . out the airlock.  Of course, the purple blob appears again.  There is a switcheroo, but it doesn’t feel like it really addresses Harris’ issues.

Still, I’m a sucker for space episodes.  I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one that was even partially set in the Mercury era.  At the time, TV seemed scared to portray reality (i.e. Viet Nam was never mentioned on Gomer Pyle, Twilight Zone never mentioned NASA, and I Dream of Jeannie couldn’t show her belly button or luscious breasts).  Later, I guess it just seemed too ancient to be exciting.  The Mercury Program I mean, not Jeannie’s rack.

So while it could have been tightened up, it was a fun ride.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Technically, this should have meant all the Mercury capsules had an 8 after their name, ruining the timeline.  But that was really a Catch-22 in using an actual historical timeline.  No big deal.
  • They even refer to the Aspire 7 as a spacecraft rather than a capsule.  These guys clearly saw The Right Stuff, as all Americans should.  Even those in Vancouver.

Science Fiction Theatre – Operation Flypaper (01/14/56)

It is becoming a chore just to get through the opening narration of this series.

The Pacific Ocean . . . seen first in the great early days of exploration by Balboa.

Really, there was no one else living on the Pacific at the time?  Nobody?  Maybe over behind that rock?  He was probably the first guy to see it while wearing a metal hat; I’ll give him that.

Part of the many waters of the world, all of them known since the beginning of time as maris nostrum, our sea.

Since the beginning of time?  Even before man had evolved?  Who was calling it that before humans?

Sure, these are petty nitpicks, but that just shows how simple it would have been to correct them.

A group meets clandestinely in an ocean-side hotel in La Jolla.  Among them is Dr. Phillip Redmond, who won the Nobel Prize for Outstanding Scientific Achievement.  Alma Ford is there representing her father because SFT always provides scientists with hot daughters.  Are these guys killing their wives?  It is always the old man living with his hot daughter.  And of course the Vollard Brothers from France.

Redmond welcomes the group and explains their mission is to explore the sea and find ways to mine it for food and minerals.  For example, he mentions plankton could be harvested for food, much to the delight of fans of Plankton Fest at Red Lobster.  Hey brainiac, how ’bout some fish!

By extracting food and minerals from the sea, we would be guaranteed to never run out.  He explains that is why “we are met here in secret [sic], to work in secret, until we are successful.”  If there was any question that this is a government operation, he continues, “It’s 11 o’clock.  We can start work tomorrow, if someone would make a  motion to adjourn.”

Vollard #1 wants to continue — there’s always one!  He wants to show the group the amazing Echo-Sounder device that he and Vollard #2 invented. [1]  The revolutionary machine uses the latest technology to map the ocean floor.  He opens the case and finds the device has disappeared.  Maybe it went back to 1930 when it was called SONAR.

Vollard insists he had it in his hands the whole time.  There is no way it could have been lost or stolen!  He swears he felt the case get lighter as he was carrying it to the table.  Alma points out that Redmond just said it was 11:00, but their watches now show 11:45.  Well, they can knock off 45 minutes early tomorrow.

That afternoon, Alma and Redmond take her father’s workpapers to store in the safe.  The documents somehow vanish from the office before they can be secured.  Alma notes that 35 minutes have somehow elapsed without their knowledge.

Redmond gets into the advanced wet-suit he invented (dubbed “second skin”) that men will use to mine the sea.  He says it will “enable a man to handle himself physically in all operations at 2,000 fathoms.”  Hee-hee.  Wait a minute, these guys are going to go down 12,000 feet?  In a wet-suit?  That’s about where the Titanic is.  A nuclear submarine is not going below 3,000 feet.

He steps into a pressure chamber and orders the staff to simulate a depth of 2,000 fathoms.  An alarm goes off and the chamber is opened.  They find Redmond has been clubbed like a baby seal, and his second skin stolen like a baby seal’s.  Luckily he seems to have worn a full set of clothes under it.  Alma notices another time-jump and says, “the thief took something else — one hour and 10 minutes from our lives.”  Yeah, I know the feeling.

Back at the hotel, the Vollard brothers are trying to figure how to replace their space-age, one of a kind Echo-Sounder without driving all the way down to Bass Pro Shop.  Redmond calls, but while Vollard #1 is one the phone, the priceless Echo-Sounder suddenly re-appears on the table.  However, as 2 Snickers disappeared from the minibar, it is a wash.  Hey wait a minute, Vollard #1 was on the phone with Redmond when the Echo-Sounder re-materialized.  How come Redmond did not notice a 30 minute lull in the conversation?  Is Vollard #1 that dull?

The documents from Alma’s father are also returned.  They come by USPS, the opposite of instantly appearing.  The group reconvenes.  Redmond laments that “this is not theft, it is brain-picking on a very high level . . . our friend now knows where to mine the sea and how the Echo-Sounder works” and, I guess, whatever is in Alma’s father’s papers.  Vollard #2 suggests that the high-tech wet-suit will also be returned.  Redmond says they won’t be there to receive it, because they have been ordered to Washington DC.

At the Bureau of Internal Security, Mr. MacNamara notes that all the thefts took place in front of witnesses who saw nothing.  “We don’t know if it was magic, optical illusion, mass hypnosis or what.”  MacNamara has a plan to catch the crime in DC using several high-speed cameras, just like C-SPAN.  The four scientists — no, the 3 scientists and 1 scientist’s daughter — will set up a mock lab.  He says, “You will continue your work there, in deepest secrecy.  Actually, you would have more privacy in a department store window.”  Unless it was a Sears, which is realllly private.  The bait will be a story placed in the fake news that research has begun on a revolutionary new dredge, because who can resist a good dredge story. [2]

MacNamara warns that “the time-thief can steal at any time and can kill at any time.”  The group accepts the challenge.  They go to the lab each morning, pretending to work, going through the motions, keeping an eye on the clock . . . (naw, the government worker shot is too easy.  The structure encourages slackassery and a few lazy bastards taint the brand).  Some workers wheel in a crate with the new XD Dredge.  The box says 646 pounds, but the 2 fat guys get it off the cart pretty easily.  Maybe this episode should have been about them.

This goes on for weeks with Redmond and MacNamara monitoring the screens to be sure cameras catch anything amiss with the XD, the chemical stores, the workstations, or under Alma’s desk.  Their diligence is rewarded when they see the workers in the lab suddenly freeze in place.  A man, who Redmond recognizes as a former student, enters carrying some sort of scepter.  He weaves around the motionless workers until he finds the XD.  Redmond proposes the scepter is an ultra high frequency transmitter that has put everyone into “hypnotic sleep.”

Over the intercom, they tell the thief to turn off his scepter and give up.  He tells them to buzz off and opens the crate.  It is empty, making the he-men who handled it seem more human.  He says it doesn’t matter because “I have a secret that is more valuable and no one will take it from me!”  He then smashes the scepter, which makes no sense.  Rather than escaping by putting the guards into sleep mode, he has awakened everyone and is ignominiously overpowered by a woman and 2 Frenchmen.

Redmond calls him “a poor, demented paranoid with the IQ of a genius.”  MacNamara responds, “I have another word for him: Thief.”

OK, that’s what Sgt Friday would have said.  But I can totally imagine it.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] He says they brought a “working scale model”.  If it works, isn’t it a miniaturized version of the original device?  Good work, garçons!
  • [2] No reference to The Drudge Report intended.
  • Why was Alma there?  Really, the question is, why is she representing her father?  SFT has shown female scientists before.  It just makes no sense to diminish her like that.

Alfred Hitchcock Presents – Cell 227 (06/05/60)

Prisoner [1] De Baca only has 40 minutes left to be a burden on society.  His fellow prisoners are ridiculously supportive.  The multi-ethnic jailbirds try to cheer him up by saying he might get a reprieve from the Governor.  They call on inmate Herbert Morrison to opine on a possible pardon.  He gruffly says, “I wouldn’t count on it.  Chances are you won’t get a stay.”  Other than Mr. Downer, this is the best prison ever!

At 11:56 PM, the guards come to get the hysterical De Baca.  The other prisoners encourage him as he is dragged away.  One says, “Save a place for me, amigo.  I’ll see you soon.”  Another says, “There’s always hope.  Even until the last second!”  He is dragged through some anachronistic Star Trek style sliding doors which lead to the gas chamber conveniently located at the end of the hall.  Wow, this really is the best prison ever!

The next day, Morrison gets a visit from Father McCann.  He complains that there is no hope in a place like this.  “It is a system designed to grind a man down to no longer be human,” he says from on top of his clean taxpayer-supported sheets, after his taxpayer-supported dinner, from death row because he ground the humanity out of another human.  He refuses to play the man’s “games of writs and reprieves and stays.  So when I die, it will be as a man, not as a sheep to the slaughter.”

He even has cross words for Pops Lafferty, the head guard who had just dragged De Baca away.  The other inmates say he is the only one to give them a fair shake, or a decent malted.  He even puts a shot of hooch in their last cup of coffee.  Morrison thinks Pops “enjoys his work too much.”  He wonders what kind of man chooses “a career of leading men to the gas chamber.”

And so on.  As usual, AHP delivers a fine episode.  Will that stop me from complaining?  Of course not.

As an actor, Brian Keith had zero range.  He was always the very low-key, coiled spring of anger that could lash out at any time.  The joke about him on Family Affair was that he was that he and Mr. French were gay.  More likely, he would have tossed French and the kids off the balcony.  However, if that is the specific type you are casting, he is a great choice.  A round peg does just fine in a round hole.  Especially, like here, when in prison.

While that casting worked, the character of Pops was just a complete miss.  Herbert’s disdain for Pop’s was off in two ways.  Pops gave Herbert absolutely no reason to hate him.  That made Herbert seem irrational when being supremely rational was the core of his character.

On the other hand, Pops was a little too jovial with the guys about about to go to the gas chamber.  He didn’t put a whoopee cushion in the electric chair, but he also showed zero indication that he was aware of their fate.  I expected a grimace, or some show of discomfort at having to put on a happy face in that serious time.  He seemed so oblivious as to appear almost “challenged.”

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Hmmmmm . . . why is a prisoner a convict, but a jailer is a guard?
  • Despite the title being Cell 227, we see much more of a sign for 226 which is painted between the two cells.  Sure, 227 is painted on the far end, but it is seen only once at a distance.  Why design it this way?
  • Brian Keith was last seen on AHP in No Pain.  He was trapped in an iron lung in that episode and in a jail cell in this episode.  These roles were appropriate for a guy whose range was similarly constricted.
  • For more info, take a look at bare*bones e-zine .

Twilight Zone – Room 2426 (02/11/89)

Theoretical Biochemist Martin Decker is in the titular cell 2426 for “displaying anti-social behavior, wrong thinking, and other intellectual crimes against the state.  Diagnosis: Schizophrenia, curable only by intense therapy sessions, followed by a full confession.  Once cured, Martin will be released . . . or buried.”

I understand releasing him if he has been “cured” (i.e. he now mindlessly spouts the deep state’s talking points on all matters).  He would then serve as 1) a warning to others who might dare to think independently, 2) a proselytizer for the regime, 3) the new weekend host on MSNBC.  But if he was “cured”, why would burial be an option?

Decker is brought in and strapped to a chair.  Dr. Olstroff looks into his eyes and decides he needs another “treatment”.  He is zapped with electricity.  Olstroff says, “You could make things very simple by telling us where to find the notebooks.”  Apparently “What notebooks?” is not the desired response as Decker is jolted again.

Decker is afraid that, with a few modifications, the GMO plans in his notebook could be used to created a weapon of mass destruction.  Asked why he designed such a thing if he was afraid of it being used, he says, “I am a scientist.” He believes that ideas have an intrinsic value.  The old man agrees, “Value when used in service to the state.”

Decker thought his creation was a way to end famine and hunger, but nukes can already do that.  Oh, he was thinking of increasing the food supply, not decreasing the mouths?  I guess would work too.  He fears the state would just use it for biological warfare.

As if incarceration and torture weren’t enough, the state gives him a roommate.  The guards bring Josef in and give him a pretty painful looking shot to the melon.  Josef immediately begins talking of escape.  Decker reminds him of the stone walls, but Josef says he can go anywhere he likes “with his mind”.  So maybe that beat-down really did some damage.

As Josef is telling him about teleportation, a guard comes in and says, “The doctor will see you now.”  Great, the only doctor who doesn’t keep you waiting.  The doctor taps a syringe, and suddenly we see Decker and Josef sitting in a nice European cafe.  He can’t believe he’s there.  Josef says you just have to believe.  Hunh?  Decker just said he doesn’t believe.  More importantly, a European babe comes in and sits near them.

Anyhoo, it is just seconds later that Decker is back in the chair and getting a shock that must make him envy that lucky bastard Josef getting away with a mere concussion.  Decker later tells Josef he knows it was just a drug-induced dream because the girl had shaved her pits.  He is convinced that Josef’s teleportations are also just dreams, and tells him he doesn’t want to share in his insanity.

After another brutal beating, Decker eases off on that insanity talk.  Josef talks him through the teleportation process, and they both awaken in a safe-house.  Decker says he must understand how this was done.  He theorizes that it was “some kind of biochemical energy exchange.”  So like a theoretical biochemist!

Because Decker is too well-known to venture outside, Josef offers to retrieve the notebooks for him.  Decker writes down the location and Josef takes off.  Decker can’t resist looking out the window. He is stunned to see he has teleported not into a safe-house, but into a 1968 episode of Mission Impossible.  The street noises he heard are coming from speakers.[1]  He has never left the prison.

The spy Josef and the Olstroff are watching him through a one-way mirror. [2]  With all the resolve and anger that Decker can emote — and being played by Dean Stockwell, that is just about zero — he vanishes before their eyes.  Olstroff tells Josef, “If he is not found, you will be held responsible” like he had any freakin’ idea that would happen.  Ya know, I think this guy just likes hurting people.  What a bad egg.

The last shot is of Decker tearing pages out of his notebook and tossing them into a fire, thus dooming millions of starving people to a life of misery.

As this series is wrapping up its third and final season, maybe they are starting to figure it out.  This was a great, atmospheric episode.  Even though it ultimately had another of the TZ happy endings that I am sick of, it established its willingness to go to dark places.

Good stuff.

Footnotes:

  • [1] It is strange that, in contrast with the overall quality of the episode, this reveal is botched.  In the first, totally unnecessary sweeping shot, it isn’t even clear what we are seeing.  The second static shot makes it clear, and is entirely sufficient.  Was the episode running 1 second short?
  • [2] Classic Wiki definition:  A one-way mirror, also called two-way mirror . . .