Sheriff 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?

The 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.

One 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.

Hat, hat.

Iris Teleton and Blanche Herbert meet in a tea room that has by far the largest number of extras ever seen in this series; or customers in a tea room.  I hope the guys over at bare bones take a look at this episode so I can find out what the hell was going on.  One possibility, judging from the head-wear, is that it was filmed during the Bad Hat Convention of 1958.

Blanch has asked Iris to meet her here.  Iris immediately tells Blanche that she knows she has been having an affair with her husband.  Iris doesn’t seem too upset by this — she orders tea and macaroons.  Iris says she is just surprised that her husband did not hook up with someone younger.  This is interesting as Blanche is five years older than Iris (at least in the actor’s ages).

Blanche tells Iris that Oliver is in love with her.  She suggests that Iris can’t want to stay in this loveless marriage.  She promises a quiet divorce and that she and Oliver would wait a respectable length of time before marrying so as to avoid any embarrassment. Iris takes this exceptionally well and says she is shocked at Oliver’s indiscretion.  She is willing to tolerate Oliver having an affair and even setting Blanche up in a little apartment; she even picks up the check.  She has no intention of divorcing Oliver, though.

Maitre d’, hat.

As Iris is walking out, Blanche plays her trump card — Robert Cressant.  This finally gets Iris’s attention.  Blanche claims to have a letter that Iris wrote to Cressant.  This time they order a couple of scotches. ^[1]  Iris wrote to him the day before her wedding that she did not love Oliver but was marrying him for a fancy house and hat money.  She assured Cressant that they could go on seeing each other behind Oliver’s back.

Blanche is giving Iris a chance to divorce Oliver without her showing him the letter.  That way, she says Iris can get something out of the divorce.  Interesting that the fact that Oliver is also having an affair is irrelevant.

Hat, hat.

Iris goes home to Oliver.  She suggests they go away together.  He suggests that maybe she could go alone with friends.  The next morning, she surreptitiously cuts a button off of his coat sleeve.  After Oliver goes to work, she calls Blanche and they agree they will meet at Blanche’s apartment at 4 pm.

Iris offers to buy the letter.  Being pre-Xerox, this would prevent Blanche from showing Oliver the letter after they are married.  Blanche notes that this would cause any settlement with Iris to be set-aside.  So apparently this was pre-Lawyer also.  Iris produces several pieces of jewelry as payment.  Blanche demands another $26,000 and gives Iris half of the letter as security.  All this is pointless, though, as Iris shoots Blanche with Oliver’s gun and plants the button as evidence.

Hat, hat, hat, hat.

Iris goes to Oliver’s office.  She overhears Oliver talking on the phone to a PI named Harper who saw her go to Blanche’s apartment.  She also hears that Oliver already knew about Cressant and has the original letter in his safe.  He hangs up with Harper and speaks to someone unseen in his office.  He tells her that he could never have married Blanche, but she was well-compensated to pull this ruse.  A blonde floozy comes out of Oliver’s office and Iris realizes it was all for nothing.

It was very clever to include the conversation with Harper in the script.  Otherwise, Iris would still be in good shape — Blanche dead and her husband in jail.

Hat, hat, hat, hat, Maitre d’, hat.

Post-Post:

• ^[1] The drinks brought to them must be Crystal Scotch as they are clear. Also, the drinks are served in tumblers.  I thought I was the only one to drink scotch like that.
• AHP Deathwatch:  Marsha Hunt is still with us.
• Fritz Feld was also credited as Maitre d’ in Amazing Stories, History of the World Part 1, Silent Movie, The Odd Couple, Way Way Out, Herbie Rides Again, The Patsy, Paris Playboys, and Skylark.  He also played an insanely long list of waiters.

The tuxedoed Miles Farnham walks in carrying two snifters of brandy. He hands one to similarly tuxedoed Bill Pryor.  Only one of them will be getting his deposit back.

Pryor mentions he has heard that hypnotism is now being used in some dental practices.  Farnham assures him that “we’ve come a long way since the days when hypnotism was regarded as a form of magic or witchcraft.”  True — it is now regarded as buffoonery or hucksterism.

He assures the crowd that a person cannot be hypnotized against his will.  Pryor’s wife Lucy bravely agrees to be a test subject.  Farnham easily puts her under so that she can hear and feel no one but him.  He takes her back in time.  When he asks her name, she surprises him by saying her name is not Lucy, but Dora Evans of the Philadelphia Evanses, circa 1853.  She goes on about seeing president Benjamin Pierce and about tending her gardens (although, I suspect “the help” did most of the tending).  She further recalls stabbing her husband in the back with a pair of pruning shears and actually commits that same act at the party, impaling ^[1] her husband!

She tells her story to Assistant DA William Burke.  He later tells Farnham that the Philadelphia Historical Society has confirmed that there actually was a Dora Evans. In 1853, she stabbed her husband with a pair of pruning shears.

Farnham later goes to see Lucy Pryor.  He tells Lucy that he believes she dug up the story about Dora Evans and used it as an excuse to murder her husband.  He sees himself as the only one whose testimony can keep her out of jail.  Before he can even state his terms, Lucy throws him out of her house.

At the coroner’s inquest, Farnham is asked if it is really a possibility that Lucy was possessed by Dora Evans — he proclaims it as fact.  The coroner reads into the record Farnham’s previous charges of fraud and malpractice.  Farnham is outraged that his professionalism and accreditation are being challenged.  After all, he has a degree in metaphysics.  As proof, her offers to put Lucy Pryor under hypnosis in front of the court.

Harrumph, harrumph!

He pulls his Popeil Pocket Hypnotizer from his jacket and once again puts her under.  She is again possessed by Dora Evans and son-of-a-bitch if she doesn’t ram the shears into Farnham’s back!  BRAVO — I did not expect that!

The DA catches Lucy in the hall. He assures her they are alone, so she can speak freely.  He asks if she planned the whole thing.  She replies with a smile, “Would’st not thee like to know?”  What the hell is that — did they speak that way in 1853?

Another thoroughly enjoyable outing.  Tom Helmore (Farnham) played a perfectly mannered snake-oil salesman, and Phyllis Thaxter (Lucy) sailed through the episode perfectly.  Her performance, along with the direction kept the story and visuals interesting. Being AHP, ya know it is all a scam, but she really sells the ambiguity.  This is especially striking after the second stabbing.  As everyone surrounding her is panicking, she remains blank-faced.  She is still, and fading into the background as the others thrash like waves around her.

Great stuff.

There is a lot of interesting framing of Lucy after the 2nd murder. She seems to be placid in a sea of confusion  — out-of-it in every sense of the word.

Post-Post:

• ^[1] I had first used “skewered” but then saw that it doesn’t mean what I always thought it meant.
• AHP Deathwatch:  No survivors.
• AHP Proximity Alert: Herbert Anderson (Dennis the Menace’s dad) was just in an episode a month earlier — give someone else a chance!
• Title Analysis:  Doesn’t make much sense.  Mr. Pryor was murdered once, Mr. Farnham was murdered once, and poor Mr. Evans was murdered three times.
• Phyllis Thaxter (Lucy) played Clark Kent’s mother in Superman.  No, the good one. Why do I always think she was in the 1950s Superman?  Thinking of Phyllis Coates, I guess.  But then Lois Lane was played by Noel Coward, right?
• Tom Helmore (Farnham) was in a memorable episode of Night Gallery.
• George Shearing, Billy Shears, Harry Shearer, Norma Shearer, Rhonda Shear. Mostly Rhonda Shear.
• The Popeil Pocket Fisherman is advertised as available at Woolworth, Woolco, and Korvette’s — all defunct.  Coincidence?

A police lieutenant comes into Cyril Jones’ gun shop and asks when is the last time Jones sold a gun to Dan Foley.  Without asking for a warrant or subpoena, Jones sings like a canary showing the officer that he sold Foley a gun in January.

This episode apparently takes place in the alternate universe occupied by anti-gun zealots where criminals buy their guns at licensed gunsmiths and are subject to and bound by all laws on the books.

Lieutenant Flannery tells Jones that they picked up a friend of Foley’s and they just want to be sure the witness is safe.  Jones thinks witnesses don’t fare too well in this town; he thinks more should be done to protect them.  I would tend to agree as the local newspaper prints a large picture of the witness which might was well have had concentric circles painted over it.

The Witness Relocation Program is much more successful than its predecessor, The Witness Location Program.

Sure enough as Jones is walking home, he sees some gangtas bust multiple caps in the witness’s ass. I’m not sure if we are supposed to wonder just what the hell Jones was doing there.  Was he following the witness?

Jones recognizes the shooters and even greets them by name.  This is not the wisest move as they respond by shooting him and leaving him nicely parallel to the witness on the sidewalk (see below).

Flannery and the Police Commissioner visit Jones in the hospital.  After 3 weeks in the hospital, Jones still will not give up the shooters.  A nurse tries to shoo them off, but Flannery says they need to question Jones because they need a witness to find out who killed the witness, “It’s our first obligation to protect the . . .”  Kudos to the writer for highlighting this paradox.

After the police leave, the nurse tells Jones that he ratted out Foley & his partner Felix while talking in his sleep.  He checks out of the hospital that night.  The nurse gives him 8-to-5 odds that he doesn’t live until Tuesday.  He goes back to his shop that night.  The phone rings, but there is no one there when he answers.  If only he had some way to protect himself — oh, wait he’s in a freakin’ gun shop!

Rather than go home, he gets a hotel room “with a view” for $3.50 ($75 if he uses the mini-bar).  The next morning, he has a clear view of Foley & Felix across the street.  He loads up his rifle and takes aim at the two pin-striped bastards.

OK, I know they showed Jones picking up a silencer at his shop, but the shots he fires literally produce no sound other than the click of the hammer.  Using a sight, he neatly lays both of them out in the same parallel configuration we saw earlier.  More kudos for the hat placement which is just beautiful (see below — the June Taylor Dancers didn’t line up with this precision) ^[1].

Jones is a good citizen, so goes to the police station and confesses to the murders.  He says he “killed them both with a high-powered rifle from the sixth floor” eerily mirroring a murder that would take place, also with a mail order rifle — one day short of exactly 5 years from the date this episode aired.  Fittingly, the desk Sargent does not believe Jones’ double-bullet theory.

Left to Right: witness, witness, gangster, gangster.

The Sargent recognizes Jones’ name as the witness who would not finger Foley &
Felix when he was shot earlier.  Jones is oddly proud of this fact.  The Sargent calls the lieutenant and strangely asks what Jones name is despite just having recognized it seconds before.

Jones admits that he should have identified his assailants when he was in the hospital. He was afraid, reasonably knowing that snitches get stitches.  The Commissioner is skeptical that mild-mannered Jones killed the two thugs.  He claims that they “get guys in the station once a week that swear they shot McKinley.”  If it’s any consolation to them, that McKinley talk should dry up in about 5 years.

The lieutenant is also skeptical, demanding evidence that Jones assassinated the men. The District Attorney is concerned that Jones’ confession is a smear against the police that they are unable to protect witnesses.  He is quite rightly concerned that the Grand Jury will just consider Jones a hero.  Much to Jones’ dismay, to avoid embarrassment, the city sets him free.  He will be fine as long as some sleazy titty-bar owner doesn’t catch him in the garage.

Meh.  Not much going on here, but it is nice to see some old character actors doing their thing.

Post-Post:

• ^[1] Former co-stars of Art Carney (Jones) on The Jackie Gleason Show.
• AHP Deathwatch:  No survivors.
• Why is Sargent capitalized in spell-check but lieutenant is not?

A woman is hit in the hat by something too small to be a dead bird, and the doorman sees a pair of eyeglasses shatter on the sidewalk.  Clearly neither of them needs glasses as they are able to spot Carl Adams on the ledge 17 floors up.  I’ll say this for people who go out onto ledges — they always seem to pick the ledge that has the best exposure.  No one ever threatens to jump into the alley or down into an obliette-like courtyard.

The hotel manager and a bellhop break into room 1711.  The manager, apparently a graduate of the Dale Carnegie course on How to Win Friends and Influence People to Jump Off Buildings, shouts, “Whats the meaning of this? You come in here at once!”

The manager digs the hole — or potential sidewalk-crater — deeper by telling Adams to think of his wife.  The man says he doesn’t have a wife, at least not since last night.  He flashes back to Elizabeth Montgomery telling him their marriage is over.  As she is one of the most beautiful women ever to be on TV, his reaction is understandable.

Police Sargent Barrett climbs out on the ledge to talk him out of jumping.

Vic Tayback ^[1] suggests to some fellow photographers that they work together.  One group will shoot the man as he jumps, another group will shoot him as he falls, and the third group will shoot him as he splatters on the sidewalk.  This is the same kind of inspiring teamwork that allowed the paparazzi to beat the tolls when killing Princess Diana.

The Sargent’s Lieutenant . . . or is it the Lieutenant’s Sargent?  No, it’s the Sargent’s Lieutenant shows up and is about as helpful as Deputy Police Chief Dwayne T. Robinson. Apparently an old frat-brother of the hotel manager, he begins shouting at Adams.  I would jump just to get away from this prick.

Adams has another flashback.  This time he slaps Liz (Liz, I call her), so now I’m ready to push him off the ledge myself.  Can we get that nice Lieutenant back in here?  She walks out with a suitcase to go to “the other man.”

In another flashback, the man finds Liz unconscious in their home with an empty prescription bottle in her hand.  He finds a suicide note.  “Other man” rejected Liz and she killed herself, unable to live with the pain that she had caused her husband.

After being on the ledge for four hours, the Lieutenant allows Officer Barrett to go back out on the ledge and try to reason with Adams.  They have the police dangle a rope from the floor above. Barrett tells him to grab it and slip into the lasso.

There is a most excellent, though not unexpected reveal.  Then it is revealed, even less unexpectedly, that Officer Barrett cannot fly.

Another very good episode although once you crack the code, it is pretty easy to figure the twists in this series.  Still, the performances and the concept carry it along.  The worst I can say is that there is not one second in the episode where Liz is smiling.^[2]

I rate it 26 out of 32 feet per second per second.

Not cool.

Post-Post:

• AHP Deathwatch:  Office Barrett is still hanging in there.  Elizabeth Montgomery died at a relatively young 62.
• ^[1] Vic Tayback was Jojo Krako in the Chicago mob episode of Star Trek.
• ^[2] Three years later, Elizabeth Montgomery would have another non-smiling role — bonus points, she was filthy and also probably a commie — where she was the last woman on earth in a Twilight Zone episode.
• On the other hand, later in Bewitched — holy crap!  And when she started dressing in 70s hippie-chic — yowza!
• Hulu sucks.