Host John Newland tells us, “we are about to go beyond the gay grinning face of the circus into the very private world of the Flying Patruzzios.” Had they really wanted to get dramatic, the episode would have been about the clown car which now has only 2 passengers due to COVID social distancing.

Said Patruzzio’s are backstage preparing for their next performance in the Big Top.  Mario is a typical angry hot-head movie Italian like Sonny Corleone when he beat up Carlo, or the toll booth operator when Sonny showed up with a $20 bill.  Mario is pissed at being treated like a child.  Well, he is 34 years old.  However, Mama Patruzzio just wants to be sure her bambino is ready for his death-defying trapeze act (i.e. doesn’t go BAM! BINO!).  Also learned from The Godfather: Italian women over 30 have no names.

His father Gino nags him about his “fantasy wife” Carlotta which is puzzling because she actually is his wife.  I guess it is because she speaks to men outside the family.  Gino rants that people are laughing behind their backs and it could not possibly be because of their stereotypical, loud, hand-waving arguing or glittery skintight unitards.

But they set that aside when it is showtime.  As always, the One Step Beyond production looks great. The Flying Patruzzios are preceded by an elaborate act featuring many horses.  They are enthusiastically received by the ladies, gentlemen, children and flies of all ages.

The Patruzzio’s act fortuitously takes place “80 feet” in the air, presumably to allow some clean-up after the horses.  They begin with the standard trapeze act.  It is simple, but even today is pretty thrilling and beautiful.  There is nothing technology can do to improve (i.e. ruin) the harmony of gravity, timing, and strength needed for the act.  Gino and Mario swing out on their trapezes.  Then Gino flips into Mario’s hands.  Then Mario flips back to his trapeze and swings back to the platform.  Cool.

Then the ringmaster announces that they will continue the act without a net.  Which is a metaphor meaning they are working without . . . oh wait, I guess that’s where that came from.

The Carnies Local 763 (named for the number of fingers the 100 members have) take down the nets and the Patruzzios step out onto the platform.  Mario swings out to grasp Gino’s arms.  They seem to have made a solid connection, but Gino’s arms slide out of Mario’s grip.  Gino falls 80 feet, although I think about 40 of them are shills.  Whether the fumes of the horse shit finally rose to that level, or it was the olive oil sandwich Mario just had is not made clear.

Mario miraculously survives and is taken to the hospital.  Sadly, the doctor says he will live, but be completely paralyzed. Mama Patruzzio says that Mario, as the oldest, should see Gino first.  He is so wracked with guilt that he runs from the hospital.  When he goes home that night, Carlotta is already in bed.

She says it would have been better if Gino had died.  When she describes him as a mummy and as looking creepy, Mario explodes.  She gets in a good zinger, telling her husband, “I saw him — you didn’t.”

Gino is no longer interested in risking his life for a living, so he goes to the unemployment office downtown.  OK, after that, he is no longer interested in risking his life.  Shockingly, he discovers that his life on the trapeze has no more qualified him for a job in the real world than being a senator for 36 years would.

Hey Mannix, lock that down!

He returns to the Big Top, by which I mean Carlotta — heyyooooo! ^[1]  Sadly, she is leaving him.  This is the final straw.  Mario goes back to the circus and climbs to the trapeze platform.  He swings out on the trapeze and does a flip into the void.  However, a pair of hands miraculously catch him.  Somehow he is back on his trapeze swinging safely to the platform.  The other trapeze is empty.

Mario believes this was the ghost of his father saving his life.  He finally rushes to the hospital to see his father, expecting him to be dead.  The nurse says he is alive and still paralyzed.  However, she says an hour ago he startled her by suddenly stretching out his arms, but she thought he was just going for her ass.

John Newland returns and says this was a case of “bi-location”.  A few weeks ago in The Return of Mitchell Campion, he called the same phenomenon “teleportation”.  I guess when you use basically the same hook every week, you differentiate them however you can.

So, another episode of OSB working in their narrow slice of the genre.  But, as always, they put on such a good show, that I have to give them credit for a win.  Also, bonus points for finally setting another episode in the USA! ^[2]

Other Stuff:

• [1]  Yvette Vickers (Carlotta) was Miss July 1959 in Playboy.  In 2010, her mummified body was found at home after she had been dead for a year.
• [2]  This is only the 9th episode out of 15 to be set in this country.
• Also on TV that night: Wyatt Earp, The Rifleman, Laramie and Bronco.  Bet they didn’t have no episodes set in France.
• Italian Mario Patruzzio was played by Mike Connors — an Armenian born as Krekor Ohanian in Fresno.  Only in America!

It is immediately clear that this episode is going to be a slog.  Englishman Harrison Ackroyd comes into his wife’s bedroom and announces that their help Essie “has done something triumphal with kidneys and bacon.”  How many warning signs can you find in that sentence? ^[1]

Harrison has Sylvia sign some papers before he goes to work.  He warns her he will be late that evening like every Friday night while he selfishly entertains clients to pay for their sumptuous house, separate bedrooms, help, and triumphal breakfast meats.  She is left to her knitting which John Newland told us is how she spends her days.  As her husband leaves, he says, “Have a good day.”  Alone, Sylvia says to herself, “A good day.  What is a good day?”  I think she also might be sketchy on what is a good night.

She gets dolled up for a stroll down memory basement.  Essie joins her downstairs and wants to throw out some of the junk.  Sylvia does not want to get rid of anything because she lives in the past — a sweater she wore during the Occupation in Paris, her diploma from the Sorbonne, a transmitter she used to talk “across the Channel”, flags she used to welcome the Allies into Paris, and a F*** You From France T-Shirt. ^[4]

Essie puts aside a box that says “A game for young and old” to send to the children’s hospital.  Sylvia clutches it and says, “Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy”.  She rushes upstairs with the box and locks herself in her bedroom.  She takes a Ouija Board out of the box.  She moves the planchette around the board and moans orgasmically, “Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy . . . . I needed it so much!”.

Moses . . .

Sylvia sends Essie out late that night to buy a birthday cake because Harrison forgot her birthday again. ^[6]  She returns and carries it upstairs, candles ablazing.  Essie complains that she had to go to 3 shops to find enough candles.  That is not the way to get a raise.

The next morning, as she is serving breakfast, Essie tells Mr. Harrison she overheard his wife laughing it up in her bedroom and moaning the name Jeremy.  Now that’s how you get a raise.

Harrison confronts his wife, but she denies anyone was there.  He says, “Sylvia, what you do is your own affair.  Frankly I don’t mind as long as you’re clever enough to keep it that way.”  He just wants his name kept out of the newspapers, although it will be prominently featured in next month’s Cuckold Digest.

He’s not a complete cuck, however, because he hires a PI to follow his wife.  She never meets another man, but is seen talking to herself a lot.  He also has her conversations taped.  He hears her yapping on and on to Jeremy but not a word from him, which sounds about right.  Sylvia begs Jeremy to let her see him just once.  Sylvia catches Harrison listening to the tape and says, “How dare you!” ^[3]

. . . oh, Moses!

There is a twist, and it is a fine one that leaves you thinking.  However, the path to get there — even from this point — is so tedious that I can’t go on.  It took me a month to get this far.  The story is not the problem; it is the performances.

Once again, why are they setting another episode in England? ^[1] Harrison is such a proper sexless English twit that it is impossible to regard him as a human being (kind of like Charles in The Crown).  Sylvia is just insufferable with her “Moses, oh Moses!” style of acting. ^[2]  Newland, you are a great director, but you’ve got to restrain the screeching brats and hammy adults.

Even compared to the carnage from yesterday (i.e. a month ago), this was a painful outing.  Thank God the reliable Alfred Hitchcock Presents is next in the rotation.

Other Stuff:

• [1]  For those scoring along at home, this is 8 out of 14 episodes of this American series that take place outside the USA.  Still no paranormal activity in Africa or Asia, though.
• [2]  Sadly, none of those readings are as histrionic as I remember.  Maybe I’m thinking of another movie.
• [3]  Apologies for using that Greta clip in 2 consecutive posts.  But you must have a heart of stone not to laugh.
• [4]  A few years ago, I saw 2 girls in Panera Bread wearing matching souvenir T-Shirts that said F*** You From Florida (without the ***).  It made me sad to realize that our country’s standards have deteriorated so badly that I was eating at a Panera Bread. ^[5]
• [5]  That was a cheap shot.  I have no beef with Panera except their sandwiches seem to get smaller so often, it’s like I’m backing away from them.  Which I guess I am.  Also, their drink and condiment stations are usually a nightmare of poor design.  C’mon man, you’ve built a thousand of these things and still can’t figure it out?
• [6]  Before you think too poorly of Harrison:  Sylvia earlier admitted to forgetting his birthday too.  So this layabout, with nothing better to do, shouldn’t point fingers.

Host John Newland begins by telling us that, in this age of reason, the old tales about sea monsters and sirens have been debunked or explained by science. Dubious unsourced tales of precognition and life after death are still totes for real, though, I guess.

Kudos again to One Step Beyond for looking great!

Stewart the cook Cookie, the steward, knocks on First Mate Blake’s cabin and tells him he has 10 minutes until his watch.  Cookie reports they are “moving like lightning now that we have the sea at our back.” Wait, they’re at sea.  The sea is at their back, front, and both sides, so what does that even mean?  Google provides no clear examples of the phrase, so either it is not a thing or it was somehow deemed to benefit Trump, and was suppressed by the algorithm. ^[1]

It clearly means something to Blake, though, because he runs up to the deck.  He tells Cookie to have Captain Peabody meet him there.  Blake chews out Ensign Dibble for changing course from NNW without orders, because that’s how the Navy works.  Dibble points to the chalkboard where orders are logged — it says the course is WNW and the Soup of the Day is Navy Bean for the 400th day in a row.

Blake shows the elderly Captain the board.  Captain Peabody orders the helmsman to correct back to the original course.  He then chews out Blake for the error because that’s how the Navy works.  Dibble suggests someone sneaked in and changed the course during the last change of watch.  The Captain notes that the course change has steered them into a dead calm lack of wind, and ice in the water.

Captain Peabody assembles the small crew and tells them the culprit made a mistake.  The new heading was written on the chalkboard, but the chalk was not returned to its holder.  He orders each crewman to empty his pockets.  He finds no chalk, but does finally find those strawberries that went missing.  The officers search the rest of the ship.  In the cargo hold, Blake finds a stowaway.  He has the chalk.  

The Captain shakes him, demanding to know how he got there, why he changed the course, and if he knows any new way to prepare Navy Beans.  The haggard man says nothing, so they chain him up.

From the calm water, the crew hears men shouting for the ship to save them, or to send some girls.  The crew can’t see them because of the fog.  Finally they find four men on a piece of wreckage the size that Kate Winslet hogged in Titanic.  They are survivors of The Flying Eagle which hit an iceberg.  

There is also a dead man.  Blake pulls him on board to give him a decent funeral — presumably at sea, so a good shove would have accomplished the same thing.   Blake recognizes the dead man as the man he caught and chained up in the cargo hold of the ship.  He runs to the cargo hold, and sees the chains are now empty.

This was a fine episode.  The ship was believable and the performances were good.  If I have a beef with this episode, it is with the fickle nature of the universe.  Great, God relaxed the rules and allowed the man to transport to the other ship and trick the crew into sailing toward the four survivors.  You know, he could have just moved the iceberg and saved them all.

Other Stuff:

• [1]  Algorithm = some 23 year old punk.
• For those keeping score, this is 7 out of 13 episodes set outside the USA.
• Amazingly, Robert Ellenstein (the elderly Captain Peabody) went on to play the Federation Council President in Star Trek IV (and was still younger than Joe Biden).  But then, ST IV was made only 27 years after this episode aired.  By comparison, it has been 34 years since I saw ST IV in a theater.  OMG, I’ve wasted my life!  This mathematical oddity is also enabled by the fact that the ancient mariner, Captain Peabody, was portrayed by a 36 year old actor. 

I will often look to see what historical events happen on the day an episode aired.  I almost never find anything significant.  Check out this list of things popular that week: 

Pope John XXIII was leading the Catholic Church. In that special week of April people in US were listening to Come Softly To Me by The Fleetwoods. In the UK, Side Saddle by Russ Conway was in the top 5 hits. The World of Apu, directed by Satyajit Ray, was one of the most viewed movies released in 1959 while Nine Coaches Waiting by Mary Stewart was one of the best selling books. On TV people were watching Lili. 

A little before my time, but I have heard of none of these things except the pope, and that is probably just because they name those guys like a 3-Card Monte scam.

Draw your own conclusion . . . all art is ephemeral, memories fade like the evening sun, Epstein didn’t kill himself.  Seriously, wouldn’t he have waited for Cuties?

I didn’t even want to link it.

For those keeping score, this is the 6th out of 12 episodes of this American series to be set in a foreign country. ^[1] Host John Newland tells us we are on the Mediterranean island of Cabri Horma.  There is no such island, but I’m sure all the other facts in this based-on-true-life paranormal tale are accurate.  Kudos to the show for giving a Longitude and Latitude that are actually in the Mediterranean Sea.  Even The Twilight Zone struggled with navigation.  I’m not sure Science Fiction Theatre would have put it on the right planet.

Mitchell Campion ^[3] of the Ohio Campions is visiting Cabri Horma solo since the Thailand flight was booked.  He goes into the Hotel du Sud and the desk clerk seems to know him, calling him by name.  A waitress also recognizes him, calling him by name, and even remembering his favorite dish which is a puta who also recognizes him, but as señor Smith. He tells all of them he has never visited the island, and one of them his room number.

Baffled, he goes out for a walk.  He stops in a bar called Mario’s which is like going to a pizza joint called Miguel’s.  He is also remembered there, but less fondly.  A young man punches him in the face.  But he went to an island bar wearing a suit & tie and ordered a cognac.  He was really asking for it.

He goes back to the hotel and demands that the clerk show him his name in the register and how a Snickers costs $6 in the mini-bar.  A señorita followed him from the bar.  While the clerk is doctoring Snickers invoices like they were “original” factory auto dealership invoices during the Labor Day Sale ^[2], she also calls Campion by name.  He seems to recognize her and she runs away in tears.  He says, “Francesca”.

John Newland, you were the Spielberg of 1950s TV!

He runs outside, but loses her. He is drawn to a nearby house.  As frequently happens in every series I’ve watched in the past 5 years, he feels fine opening the door and looking around.  Before he gets into anything interesting, the woman returns.  She asks, “Is it true, Mitchell?  You really do not remember?  Or do you prefer not to remember?”  She says, “I release you!  You have no responsibility here!  Just go!”  I’m getting turned just hearing that from a woman.

Mitchell says he thought everyone was playing a joke on him, but he does remember her.  He goes back to the hotel and looks at the register.  He is utterly baffled that his name is not in the book that he earlier swore it could not possibly be in.  Then he realizes that his passport was only issued 10 days ago so he could not possibly have been here before that.  

An old man shows Mitchell a photo taken on the island a month ago (left to right: old man, Mitchell, Francesca).  Mitchell says that was not possible because he was in the hospital in a coma after a car crash at that time.  Turns out his heart stopped for four minutes and he apparently teleported — their word — to the island. In fact it was more like Astral Projection (AP), a Near Death Experience (NDE), an Out of Body Experience (OBE), or the Jimi Hendrix Experience (LSD).

He was drawn to the island when the doctor told him the best treatment was a long vacation now that his insurance ran out.  I’m still stumped how he teleported there, then 1) rented a room, 2) bought meals, and 3) banged this chick — yet his name was not in the register.  All three of these tasks require a physical presence and, in my case, cash.  So why would signing the register be a problem?  

I’m sure it was explained in the press.  Host John Newland says it was covered in every newspaper in the country.  You know, if they weren’t too busy calling Eisenhower Hitler, and covering for the Democratic Party to steal the election from Nixon in 19 months.

Other Stuff:

• [1]  Unlike CNN, I use the word “foreign”.  Also “riot”.
• [2]  This has always sounded like a scam.  They advertise selling cars at cost, but has anyone ever taken this to court?  Seems pretty easy to fake an invoice.
• [3] Campion was also the name of the soldier who spread the plague outside the lab in The Stand.  No relevancy here except I hope they don’t screw up the new adaption.  At least the Hollywood standard of casting only dudes with beard stubble and 2% body fat will make sense in a post-apocalyptic world.  Although, unlike the COVID world, I suspect hair salons opened in The Stand the next day.

We open in with John Marriott in prison, so we know this is another episode set outside of the United States where assault, looting, vandalism, and arson are now legal.  Before I digress there, let me digress here:  This is now 5 out of 11 OSB episodes that are set overseas.  Am I missing something?  I didn’t catch-on that Ray Bradbury Theatre had moved production to New Zealand until I noticed 2 Orcs in the 3rd season credits.

Also, I notice that the foreign locations (which will be 6 out of 12 next week) are always in Western Europe.  No paranormal activity in Africa or Asia, fellas?  Even host John Newland tries to come off like a Brit, pronouncing “human record” as “human hhre-KORD“.  John, dude, you were born in Cincinatti! ^[1]  Give it up!

Anyhoo, Marriott is scheduled to be hanged in London that afternoon.  I’d like to think his trial was that morning.  From his cell, he can see the gallows being prepared for the big event.  No, wait, I hope his trial was yesterday so the hammering kept him up all night.  Marriott is nervous and jumpy about the hanging which is in about half an hour.  In a very obnoxious few minutes, he describes his life and crime.  He ends up crying and screaming, “I don’t want to die!”  

The good guys enter the cell and waste a swig of brandy on him.  They walk him up the stairs of the gallows, and put a sack over his head to prevent COVID-19.  Then the noose is tightened around his neck.  The trap door is opened, and his body falls through, thus ending the comedy portion of our program.  Sadly the rope has broken, and more sadlier, he has survived the fall.

Marriott wakes up in the infirmary instead of Hell.  The warden, my kind of guy, is ready to try again right away.  Marriott says, “You’re wasting your time, guvnuh.”  He confidently tells the men they can’t kill him no matter what they do.  Inexplicably they let him eat breakfast before the next try.  At least they don’t waste any more brandy.  

Once again, they escort Marriott through the prison, but this time he is arrogant in his certainty that he will not die.  He even does a little dance.  They march him up the steps to the high platform.  They put the noose around his neck, and he tells them they are wasting their time.  The executioner pulls the switch, but the trap door is stuck.  Marriott laughs at them.  Loudly, mockingly, jeeringly.

Throw him off the side!!!  It’s really high — just throw him off the side!!!

But no, they take him back to his cell, and the House of Lords decide to release him.  He is even more emboldened and obnoxious after his 2nd reprieve.  He later explains that when they put the sack over his head, he had a vision; or maybe it was that garlic omelet. ^[2] “The devil himself” told Marriott that he would “die at the feet of a lion”.  Even when his murder victim’s brother tries to shoot him in a pub, the gun jams.

Inexplicably, except for being extremely drunk, Marriott goes to the zoo.  He goes directly to the lion’s cage and begins taunting the beast.  The zookeepers chase him off and he falls down a long flight of steps.  The camera pans up to show a statue of a lion above him.

As always, this is a fantastic-looking show.  The shot of the gallows through Marriott’s window is magnificent. ^[3] My other frequent comment about the weakness of OSB stories doesn’t really apply here.  This feels more like an urban legend.  It is served up with the requisite three incidents to establish it, and even throws in little twist.

Alfred Ryder as Marriott is excruciating, though.   Whether Panicky Pierre ^[4] in the beginning, or laughing maniacally at his luck, or hamming it up arrogantly in later scenes, he is brutal to watch.  Most others, including John Newland, think this is one of OSB’s best, so I’m willing to blame my own general misanthropy.  

I rate it 7.5 steps beyond.

Other Stuff:

• [1] More likely it is a Transatlantic Accent.
• [2] Advice to future pandemic survivors:  Don’t have chili dogs for lunch and plan on wearing that same mask all afternoon.
• [3] Two words I have never spoken aloud: Fantastic and Magnificent.  If I ever even write “marvelous”, just shoot me (unless referring to Marvin Hagler.)
• [4] I thought this was London.  Forget it, he’s rolling.
• Alfred Ryder (Marriott) was in the first episode of Star Trek.
• My Marriott memories.