How the hell is this thing rated as the 10th best episode of the series on IMDb?

In retrospect, I jumped the gun.  The episode did get off to an abysmal start. First, there is the presence of the worst actor ever to make a good living at it, Bill Paxton. He is about as obnoxious as usual without the redeeming qualities that occasionally make him interesting.  Add in a wife-beater, a mullet and some god-awful tattoos and he nearly crashes the episode on take-off.  Luckily, Brad Dourif is on hand to take the controls and add some gravitas to the acting.

However, the episode quickly establishes itself as being exactly what TFTC does best, and should do more often.  It had laughs, gore, surprises, and some over-the-top scenes. The only minor non-Paxtoncentric criticism — nay, observation — is that they have featured Siamese twins in two, dare I say, back-to-back episodes.

Paxton — and does it really matter what his character is named? — has just gotten out of jail.  He lives with his brother Virgil who is clearly meant to be “slow.”  However, Virgil is at least reading a comic book (Jesse James vs. Predator), while Paxton is pacing like an animal, slapping the staticky TV, and snacking on a stick of butter.  Kudos on the butter thing, though — that was the first sign of life that turned this episode around for me.

Paxton reviews their plan for the great ice cream warehouse heist.  He blows up at Virgil who forgets that he must disengage the fire alarm before unlocking the door.  To be fair, though, fire doesn’t generally care whether a door is locked or not.  Maybe disengaging the burglar alarm would be more productive.

Paxton and Virgil take their Impala out to meet the local ice cream truck.  Paxton is upset that the driver Mr. Byrd ratted him out from stealing money from his own ice cream truck route, and cost him 2 years in prison.  I’m not sure what this scene accomplishes other than introducing Mr. Byrd, and giving Paxton a chance to attempt to order butternut, butter brickle, and buttermilk before settling on butterscotch.  For some reason, this butter humor is killing me.

Paxton goes to the ice cream warehouse where Virgil works.  There is some wheel-spinning while we meet the manager, and hear Mr. Byrd trying to get his truck resupplied.  It is worth the wait, though, to see how Virgil screws up his assignment.  When you’re in a gang with Bill Paxton and you aren’t the brains of the operation, that is a bad sign.

The episode is only about 20 minutes once you skip the odious Cryptkeeper.  They were wise not to pad it out, as there is surprise after surprise from here on out.   Sometimes it is a dead body, sometimes it is a grappling hook, sometimes a gunshot.  It just goes down like butter.

This is too rich to spoil — I rate it 3 scoops.

Post-Post:

• Title Analysis:  Pathetic — no brass and and no hearses are to be seen in the episode.  C’mon, with a story built around an I-scream truck, you couldn’t come up with anything?
• “Impala is a kind of horse, right Billy?”

Tales From the Crypt’s visits to the carny have not been very successful for me.  From Lower Berth to Dig that Cat, they just fall flat.  Maybe that’s because carnivals have too much natural overlap with the cruel, campy narrative that a good episode should have.  You can go over the top, but you can’t go over the big-top.

Or maybe I am uncharacteristically on the fence over the exploitation of people who are different.  Say what you will about society’s treatment of the bearded lady, she ain’t laying on a couch collecting unemployment and becoming the fat lady.  The market has spoken.

Under the opening credits, we get a great unbroken shot of a midget with a withered arm, a midget playing an accordion, a giant, a gorilla in a dress, coupla topless floozies, a clown, a strongman, a tattooed guy, more midgets, a bearded lady and finally ending up 2 minutes later on the very interesting pixie-haired noggin of Carnie Connie (Joan Chen).

Zambini is yelling at Connie to let him into her mind for a little light reading. She can read his mind, but he wants to liven up the act.  After frying up a flaming dinner and chowing down, Zambini tells her he wants some “desert, the kind that only Connie can give.”  It is a little disconcerting that while she is hearing his lurid thought, his Gene Simmonsesque tongue is licking his plate.  More disconcerting, he is salaciously licking the china while psychically broadcasting his desires — is this a subtle un-PC joke on the Chinese Ms. Chen?  If so, I kind of have to say kudos.  Anyhoo, he gets his wish and we see that she doubles as a sword-swallower.

In the next show, she demonstrates that she is genuinely psychic.  She should be playing the bigger rooms; or at least the bigger tents.  After the show she wants to hang out with the other acts, but Zambini orders her back to his wagon.  Things get a little too melodramatic as the fire-eater stands up for her.  She sneaks out to hook up with him, but her orgasmic thoughts are broadcast back to Zambini, who hears her thoughts for the first time.

We are treated to the Siamese Twins in the shower and see that they are joined at the breasts.  Interesting, but frankly they took the trouble to cast sisters and talked them into getting naked.  Mucking up their naughty bits with hokey make-up was not a good use of that resource; the hip would have been fine.  However it is a nice bit as one of the midgets sneaks under the door.  More kudos for the sound effect was he wipes his goggles clean (see, it really doesn’t take much to make me happy).

Connie has decided to escape with the fire-eater.  Zambini psychically hears her plan. That night, he dowses the fire-eater with gasoline and lights him up.  Connie sees the burnt body and runs back to the wagon to pack.

That night, Zambini gets boozed up and tries to psychically summon Connie back to the wagon. He hears, “I hear you, I’m coming.”  Then he hears up on the rooftop, click click click ^[1].  He sees movement through the skylight, then a body drops through the glass to the floor — it is the gorilla.  It is the gorilla’s inside voice saying, “this is for you, Johnny Fire-eater.”  In no time, he has the top of Zambini’s head off like Ray Liotta in Hannibal and is chowing down on brains.

It was the gorilla’s mind that Zambini had been reading.  Johnny Fire-Eater had been nice to the gorilla, so she was jealous of Connie and fur-ious when Zambini killed him.

There is a great idea here, and the performers and sets are all pretty great.  The direction and an overly melodramatic score, however, brutally undermine the episode. Even at about 20 minutes (excluding the Cryptkeeper, as I do) it drags despite its many assets.

Post-Post:

• ^[1] What exactly was making that click click click noise?  Is there an alternate ending where Herbie wants to be a tap-dancer?
• Title Analysis: It really only makes sense in the last few seconds of the episode, and even then it would be more on-target if reversed.
• I enjoyed seeing Kathryn Howell and Margaret Howell in the opening credits.  I’ve never heard of them, but I deduced immediately that they would play Siamese Twins.  It made me feel smart, like Sherlock Holmes.  The game is a 3rd foot, Watson!
• Sadly unable to work in a Zamboni reference.

Title Analysis: This section floats to the top because I have no idea where they got this from.  Ambergris is french for grey amber. Which adds just another layer of confusion as it is a waxy substance that is secreted by the intestines of sperm-whales and does not look or smell like amber.  It does, however, rate its own chapter in Moby Dick. Forever Amber is a novel about a 17th century ho’ who sleeps her way to the top and several other positions.  This episode is not set in the 17th century, contains no one named Amber, and no whales; although, there is some sperm (thankfully not seen due to admirable restraint of Cinemaxian proportions).

Award-winning photographer Dalton (Roger Daltrey) and his sidekick Ike (Steve Buscemi) are on a plane back home from their latest war-zone assignment.  Dalton knows that he has lost the eye of the Tigris^[1] and that his assistant is now the superior artiste (or at least, snapper of self-immolation and severed-limb porn).  Ike invites his mentor back to his house to meet his girlfriend Bobbi (Lysette Anthony).

Dalton arrives at the door and is greeted by the beautiful Bobbi, giving him just one more reason to resent Ike.  I guess because he drank a glass of wine at dinner, Dalton sleeps on the couch.  He gets up in the middle of the night, as a 50-year old guy is wont to do, and catches a peek at Ike and Bobbi having the sex.  She catches him in the mirror, but doesn’t seem to hold a grudge as she comes out later to share a doob’ with him.

Dalton and Ike get an assignment in another war zone.  A little ambition from Ike combined with a little manipulation by Dalton result in Ike going alone to a more dangerous village where people are being hacked into little pieces.  Dalton goes with some tough-as-nails mercenaries to a less dangerous zone.  We know they are tough because they smoke and drop f-bombs.  So, tough and cool!  Seriously, has a leather jacket ever looked good on anyone?  Dalton doesn’t mention that one of the mercs told him this village was contaminated with poison gas.

That night, they regroup at camp.  Not only did Ike survive, but he got some great shots, just fueling Dalton’s resentment.  Dalton is awakened by Ike’s screams as he is covered in blood and puking.  To his credit, Dalton isn’t immediately cheered up by this.  But give him a few seconds and he sees his opportunity to get rid of Ike and claim his work for his own.  He allows Ike to further deteriorate into a foul-smelling goo to the point where his eyeball slides out.

’round the breakfast campfire, one of the mercs tells charming story of a pal in Nam who had his nose eaten off by bugs.  The next morning the soldier “beat the bushes and every bug he would find, he would cut open to find little bits to put his nose back together.”  But at least he didn’t smell.  Heyoooooo!

Dalton stumbles into the breakfast nook looking like The Incredible Melting Man.  Dalton mows him down with the merc’s M16.  Could be contagious, you know.

Back in the states, Dalton pays a condolence call on Bobbi.  Wearing a little black mourning dress, she tells Dalton about a letter she received from one of the mercs saying that Dalton had stolen Ike’s pictures and murdered him.  She claims not to believe it — they light up another bone and jump in the sack.  We all grieve in our own way.  We get some all too rare nudity in this episode when Bobbi shows her squeezebox.

Bobbi reveals that the weed they just smoked was sent by Ike from the village he went to, so they are infected.  She starts to disintegrate into a slimy bloody mess on top of Dalton.  He tosses her off and runs about 3 feet to the bathroom.  Somehow in the space of 3 feet, his nose has been chewed off.

Overall, an enjoyable outing if you don’t think about it too much, and why would ya?  The scenery was simple, but effective whether it was the hold of a cargo plane or just out in the woods.  Daltrey is not a bad actor either.  But some of the story elements . . .

Who doesn’t love Steve Buscemi?  He’s always great and as commanding or scary or hilarious as a scene requires.  However, you have a guy who is going to decompose and become a hideous shuffling zombie.  This is like the complaint about Nicholson in The Shining — he was crazy from frame one, and Buscemi . . . well he didn’t have as far to fall as, say, Brad Pitt would have.  Sure Ike was smart and had great character and personality, but the episode isn’t about him becoming an asshole.

The nose thing was just out of left field.  The campfire conversation was kind of a non-sequiter about an incident on the other side of the world.  How did it become part of this story?  And the nose was eaten off by bugs, but Ike’s problem was caused by a chemical weapon.

And the soldier was cutting open bugs hoping to reassemble the nose?  That would be some pretty small bits.  Maybe it was an act of desperation like trying to lift the car off an accident victim?  It’s just so absurd that it calls attention to itself.

Dalton sees Bobbi is a bloody mess (not the in British way), so he leaps from the bed still having a nose, goes to the adjacent bathroom and sees his noseless reflection in the mirror.  Those are some fast-ass invisible bugs.  I wonder if this is a mistake as a few shots just before he de-beds seem to purposely avoid showing his face.  And did he not feel anything before it literally fell off?  Pain, a sneeze, anything?

Finally, alas poor Bobbi.  Her death was completely avoidable.   She could have baked the dope in brownies and then claimed to be on a diet, for example.  I guess she couldn’t stand to live without Ike.

Post-Post:

• Title Analysis II:  Plus, ambergris is just an ugly word — ugly to look at and ugly to hear (actually, it’s kind of fun to speak).  I was going to say it is harder to listen to than Russian Opera, but apparently Russian Opera exists and is well-regarded — the world’s most annoying art-form sung with the world’s most grating accent.  There’s a reason the world admires your silent chess, gymnastics and ballet, comrades.
• ^[1] Tigris is the only other word I can think of that ends with gris.
• Yet another TFTC cover that is fine artistically but is contradicted by the story.
• Weed, dope, pot . . . there is no word for marijuana that doesn’t make you sound like a narc.  Doob’ comes closest, I think.

Uber-That-Guy Hector Elizondo (Leo Burns) is getting briefed by Adam West (in a rare non-campy role) who has been tailing Burns’ hot, much younger wife Patsy Kensit (Bridget, best known as the chick from Lethal Weapon 2).  They watch films of her going about her day, getting groceries, going to mass.  But there is no evidence of her cheating.

Burns is not convinced and explains his feelings to West as the camera does a totally pointless Vertigo push-pull shot.  I love these shots in theory, but it is just pointless here by director Kyle MacLachlan.  Maybe he knew this would be his only directing credit according to IMDb and just couldn’t resist.

Burns fires West and goes to a more sleazy detective, Sam Waterston (DeVoe).  He tells DeVoe that he first suspected his wife was having an affair when she stopped having the sex with him 2 months earlier.  DeVoe tells him there is a saying in the business:  “If you’re not getting it, someone else is.”

A week later, DeVoe tells Burns that his wife is going to mass every day and might be banging the priest.  Burns pays a visit to Father Sajec at the church, who he suspects did not buy a vowel of chastity^[1].  As he is leaving, he sees the priest and his wife go into a confessional booth where his imagination runs wild at what might be happening inside.

He tells DeVoe he wants the priest “shot in the dick, then in the ear.”  Luckily, for the right price, DeVoe can make it happen.  Burns ponies up the dough for the hit man, but changes his mind and races to the church to prevent the killing.

He grabs some priesty clothes and sneaks into a confessional which fortuitously is visited by his wife within seconds. She confesses her sins which include not putting out for her husband.  Turns out it was not because of an affair with the priest, but because her mother died in childbirth and she was terrified of getting knocked up.

Burns is so thrilled to hear that, that he reveals himself 9not in the usual priestly way). Bridget is surprisingly thrilled to see her old coot husband and all is well until the hitman shows up sees a priest kissing Bridget.

Twist-wise, this is a perfect story for the series, but loses a few points in the execution.  If a great jazzy score by Branford Marsalis had not livened things up, it could have gotten a little maudlin.

MacLachlan is also very limited in his direction.  I don’t ever before remember being conscious of how many background / foreground conversations and cliche over the shoulder shots were in an episode.  I guess that’s why he tried to liven one up with the Vertigo gimmick (a gimmick here, not in Vertigo).

And Patsy Kensit is is criminally underused.  I hadn’t given her much of a thought since she was banging Martin Riggs.  But even in the fuzzy opening surveillance shots she is absolutely beautiful.  Granted, this is not really her story, but I would have liked more shots of her, and certainly better shots of her.  They had someone really special in that role and didn’t capitalize on her enough.

Elizondo and Waterston are pros, though.  And John Shea (who I knew only as Lex Luthor) was fine as the groovy priest.

Not a great episode, but some good performances, a great score and a tight story make this an above average outing.

Post-Post:

• [1] I know, I know.
• Title Analysis:  Nothing fancy, but solid; like rock.  Could apply to many episodes, but at least they didn’t randomly squander it, as a priest and church are key to the story.  Galatians 6:7, by the way.

After we see Ed Begley Jr. humping some floozy in a hotel, he is up early the next morning to check the newspaper obituaries; presumably to see if my appetite is listed. Actually, we were fortunate enough to see very little of him, but did get some swell nudity from the girl — in a show hosted by a puppet. That still baffles me.^[1]

Apparently he made her promises about rescuing her from her lousy job and that dirtwater burg.  She accuses, “But you said you loved me” and he responds, “Yes, and you dropped your little panties.  It’s called salesmanship.”  No, it’s called lying.  Sharknado / Sharknoddo.

He drives out to a farm where Yvonne DeCarlo answers the door.  Asking for her husband, she tells him her husband died a few days ago.  Unlike her first husband, this one ain’t coming back — not even on TFTC.

He pretends to be shocked and does a variation of a gag that Chevy Chase did so much better in Fletch. He explains that just last week her husband had made a down-payment on a cemetery plot. He says it is too bad he died before paying the balance because the plot package covered funeral expenses plus $10,000 cash.  “Reluctantly” Ed agrees to bend the rules so Yvonne doesn’t lose out on the bennies (i.e. he bilks her out of $250 cash).

Having ungilded the Lilly (see what I did there?), he arrives at another farmhouse.  In a bizarre but fairly pointless bit of casting ^[2], the door is answered by the always welcome Tim Curry, but playing a woman (an actual woman — Ma Brackett — not just a sweet transvestite).  Although he went to the wrong address, and there was no obituary to lay the groundwork, Ma is still interested in what he is selling and calls out Pa Brackett — also played by Tim Curry. Very strangely, Ma looks like Tim Curry, but I can detect no resemblance in Pa.

They are very impressed by the brochures he has had printed up. He generously offers them a package deal for $750 that will provide $20,000 in death benefits.  Sounds like a good deal to them, but Pa is pretty shrewd and says they will have to see the plot in person.  Ed is able to stall them for a day and they go down stairs to get the cash.

While alone, Ed sees several of his predecessors — salesmen who have been decapitated, gutted with vacuum cleaner hoses, stuffed into TV consoles, etc.  He heads for the door, but is locked in and Pa clubs him to unconsciousness.

They rouse him, handcuffed,  and introduce him to their daughter Winona (also played by Tim Curry).  Despite all manner of hideousness, he tells her she is beautiful.  She takes him upstairs and rides him cowgirl style, although more cow than girl.  During pillow talk, she says she wants to get married so they can take her dowry and get away from her parents.  The dowry is money from all the dead salesmen and Winona estimates it at $40 – $50,000.

Begley shoots Winona and digs down about 4 feet in the basement where he finds a box with a piece of paper in it.  He unrolls the document to see one of his own contracts for a Restful Hill Cemetery plot — that is the dowry. This is where things go awry.

The contract is a mess.  I guess they figured that no one would notice in state of the art 1993 low-rez TV. Why were Mr. Jones and Begley filled in the Witness line rather than as the active parties?

And why was it buried under 4 feet of dirt?  Did one of the family dig the hole that night? And then fill it in?  For what purpose?  OK, the microwave salesman’s head was in the microwave, the TV salesman’s body was stuffed in the console, so it makes sense that Begley would be buried.  But irony shouldn’t require that much work.  In fact, irony should require no work  — the universe does the heavy lifting.

Turns out Begley was shooting blanks (with the pistol, presumably not in bed).  Winona is not dead, and Pa blows Begley away just before telling him that this is salesmanship — a phrase that sort of worked in the beginning, but makes little sense at the end.

If you overlook the nonsense at the end, it is a fun episode with great performances from Begley and especially Curry.  It was nice to see Lilly Munster again even though she had put on a lot of pounds and years (but haven’t we all).

Post-Post:

• ^[1] It never occurred to me before that there really aren’t any cute Muppets. Granted, there aren’t that many humans among them, but — again, just occurring to me — they are almost all male. In fact, the only female I can think of is Janice — a groovy chick, but with a mouth that goes half-way around her head.  Just because it works — awesomely, BTW — for Anne Hathaway, doesn’t mean everybody can pull it off.
• ^[2] Maybe I was wrong about the pointless casting.  The IMDb also cites his Emmy nomination for playing mother/father/sister/daughter, but he only portrayed 3 characters.  Sister and daughter don’t count as two people — this ain’t Chinatown, Jake.  Maybe this is why they all look so similar and the daughter is a little off.
• The ugly daughter is named Winona.  Begley’s name is Judd.  Coincidence?  Just as an aside, PC I am not, but I never call real people ugly.
• Title Analysis:  Inevitable, I suppose.  But shouldn’t it be “Deaths” since there were several killed?  Maybe “Death of Another Salesman” would have been a better choice grammatically and parody-wise.