Monthly Archives: April 2022

Suspense – Post Mortem (05/10/49)

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At the Royal Crown Life Insurance Company, Investigator Westcott (no first name) pounds the hell out of a cigarette. [1] He tells his boss he thinks they made a mistake paying out the Mead claim.  His boss grabs the cigarettes from him and says, “There was nothing fishy about the death certificate.  You saw how he died.”  Westcott says the doctor who issued the death certificate had his license taken away — and married Mead’s widow!  Not only that, but Westcott says she had just taken out a “big hefty” policy naming the doctor as the beneficiary! [3]  His boss is shocked by this revelation.

Well wait, they just paid the claim.  Didn’t these chowderheads already know when the policy was purchased, who purchased it, and who they just cut a check to?  And did it not arouse suspicion that Mrs. Mead bought a policy on her husband and made another man the beneficiary? [3]

Westcott pays a visit to Mrs. Mead (now Mrs. Archer) who is smoking, but not smokin’ if ya get me.  This show must have been sponsored by Lucky Strike because there is a lot of smoking.  Mrs. Archer’s first line is the oddly singular, first person, present tense, “Oh, I just love a cigarette!”

Westcott asks how she hurt her arm.  She says she fell down the cellar stairs like Don DeFore’s mother.  “It wasn’t very bright of me to leave the rolling pin at the top of the stairs.  I haven’t the slightest idea why I left it there.”  WTF? [4]  He asks if she has had any other accidents since her husband has taken out a big policy on her.  She tells Westcott she can’t understand why her husband would take out a big policy on her.  Ach du Lieber, this dumbbell could work for the Royal Crown Life Insurance Company!

Westcott tells her that in 1933 her husband’s mother tripped over a broom and fell down the stairs, leaving him a policy worth $25,000.  Then the steering failed in his brother’s car and he collected another $20,000.  Then he set his sister up on a date with Ted Kennedy. [2]  She demands, “What has this got to do with how my first husband died?  Certainly my husband didn’t get anything out of that!”  Well, except for the life insurance proceeds that we were told in the first scene were paid directly to him. [3]

Mrs. Archer throws him out, but not before he makes two parting comments:  1) Be very careful, and 2) I’ll leave the cigarettes for you.

That night, Mrs. Archer gets a telegram addressed to Mrs. Mead.  She has won $150,000 in the Irish Sweepstakes!  I wish I knew how to make a gif because Dr. Archer’s delayed reaction from ho-hum to WHAT’S THAT ! is classic.  Mrs. Archer says her dead husband must have purchased it.  Fortunately, you don’t have to be present to win the Irish Sweepstakes or, of course, sober.  You do need the ticket, however, and they have no idea what Mr. Mead did with it.  After searching the house, they conclude it must be in a pocket of the suit he was buried in.

Mrs. Archer suggests they could get a court order to dig up the body.  Dr. Archer doesn’t want the cops sniffing around the exhumed body; and, after 6 months, it wouldn’t be too pleasant for the cops, either.

Dr. Archer has some goons dig up the coffin.  He doesn’t find the ticket.  Some cops stumble upon the site.  They all get away, but the cops decide to haul the body in for another autopsy.  Archer gets a call that arsenic was found in Mead’s body.  He tells his wife the call was from a patient.  But wait, his license was revoked.  Also, wasn’t he a coroner?  Spooky.

He writes a letter confessing to the murder of Mr. Mead, and sign’s his wife’s name.  Yada, yada . . . Dr. Archer tries to kill his wife, fails, and is busted.

Robert Coogan (Westcott) does a great job.  Literally, every other actor hams it up just as much as the intrusive organ (my nickname at the gym).  While looking up some background on the episode, I discovered that the same story was the basis of an AHP episode that I somehow skipped.  That will be the next post.

Other Stuff:

  • [1]  I had to Google why smokers tap their cigarettes.  It is to pack the tobacco in tightly because in the old days, the tobacco would fall out.  Or it is to loosen the tobacco allowing it to breathe.  Gee thanks Google.  Do I have to send Elon Musk over there to straighten your ass out, too?
  • [2]  Sorry for two consecutive posts with Chappaquiddick references.  I couldn’t figure out how Dr. Archer could have insured the Lindbergh baby which would have least been close in the timeline.
  • [3]  To be fair, I finally figured out that they mean that Mrs. Mead took out a new policy on herself that names Dr. Archer as beneficiary.  It is misleading because Westcott says she “had taken” not she “has taken”.  It is just poorly written.  On the other hand, it is stated later that her husband bought the policy on her.  I’m writing this at 3 am.  What’s their excuse?
  • [4]  The incongruity of the rolling pin reminded me of this from almost 50 years ago.  There is a better clip here, but I couldn’t make the embedded video skip to the right timestamp.  The wording is vastly superior at the first link, but the fishing rod is in Tim Conway’s face the whole time.  Directoring!

Tales of the Unexpected – The Hitch-Hiker (03/22/80)

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Writer Paul Duveen is driving through England. He passes a sign that the Cambridge By-Pass is opening in Autumn 1979.  The funny thing is, this aired in 1980.  That’s it, the only funny thing.

He cruises past the world’s oldest and best dressed hitchhiker.  Then he has a second thought and slows down.  The old gentleman trots up to the car and asks if Paul is going to London.  As they drive off together, Paul is seen to be one of those lunatics that actually likes meeting people, enjoys talking to them, and is genuinely interested in what they have to say.  Wait, I have a feeling I’m rooting for the wrong guy here.

Paul is actually a very affable guy.  He talks to the man about Epsom (the town, not the salts) and the Derby (the race, not the hat).  Then he somehow surmises the man might be a busker.  The man takes offense at that and demands to be let out.  Paul pulls over and the man gets out.  Paul sincerely apologizes and asks the man to reconsider.

They continue on.  Paul gets the car up to a smooth 70 MPH, which seems strange since it is a German car with the wheel on the wrong side being driven in England by an Australian.  Shouldn’t it be in Gobsmacks per Fahrvergnügen or whatever the hell they use over there?   The hitchhiker asks how fast the car will go.  Paul, proud of his new toy with only 2,503 miles on it, claims it will go 129 MPH.  He is offended when the HH suggests the dealer was lying. Whoever heard of such a thing!

Paul tells the HH to fasten his seatbelt, and he puts his on too.  I guess going a mere 70 without them had been OK. They are thrown back in their seats as Paul  accelerates.  He gets the speed up to 125 MPH, then sees a motorcycle cop in the mirror.  The HH urges him to just outrun the cop.

Paul pulls over.  The HH says that model of motorbike maxes out at 112 MPH, so they should have outrun him.  Well then, how did the cop catch up to them?

This is one of those episodes that would just be tedious to recount step-by-step.  The good news is that is because there is character development, ideas, red herrings, foreshadowing, and twists.  Great for the show, not so great to transcribe or read.  With the cop entering the stage for an extended scene, we now have all the characters on deck.  This might be the most uniformly excellent ensemble I have come across since Dan Hedaya’s one-man performance of The Vagina Monologues at The Winter Garden. [2]

Rod Taylor (The Birds) plays Paul Duveen as a cheerful, inquisitive sort befitting his job as a writer (the inquisitive part, not the cheerful part). [4]  He occasionally gets ticked at the hitchhiker, but shakes it off.  He just seems like a great guy.

Cyril Cusak plays the hitchhiker as a seemingly harmless old chap.  His charming Irish accent is empathy-bait for Americans.  He even survived an episode of Ray Bradbury Theater.  Best of all, he seems to be no relation to former actor John Cusack.

I’ve never heard of John Forgeham who plays the cop.  However, he absolutely nails it as the humorless, laconic authority figure who has your future in his hands and knows it.  Alfred Hitchcock would have loved him.

Watching all three of them work is a delight pleasure.  The fact that their performances are also in support of a good story makes this the best episode of TOTU so far.  Bravo!

SPOILER:

I started with the ending when writing this post, so this does give away a plot point . . .

Hey, wait a minute.  That twist of stealing the cop’s notepad is right out of an Alfred Hitchcock Presents Episode.  Just one story beat you say?  Well in both cases it came after an upstanding citizen was goaded into speeding by a sticky-fingered hitchhiker and was pulled over by a motorcycle cop.  Not feeling it yet?  The AHP episode was entitled Hitch Hike — pretty close.  OK, we’ve had a few Tales of the Unexpected episodes based on stories that were originally used on AHP:  The Landlady, Man from the South, and Lamb to the Slaughter (all by Roald Dahl).  The difference is, Roald Dahl was given no credit on the AHP version of this one. [1]

Finally, thanks to the producers for actually filming a scene where the actors get wet in the rain.  Usually it is an effect or a screen of drizzle between them and the camera.  The reality this adds is worth a million Fahrvergnügens. 

Other Stuff:

  • [1]  As nearly as I can tell after 30 seconds of research, Roald Dahl was the 3rd greatest source of stories for AHP.
  • [1]  Odd that I immediately assumed Dahl was ripped off by AHP.  It was days later that I saw Dahl’s story was published 17 years after the AHP episode.   
  • [2]  Though lacking the range of Russell Collins — cited recently by me as the greatest actor in history — Dan Hedaya never fails to amuse or interest me.
  • [2]  Blatant rip-off of JFK’s gag about his Nobel Prize winning guests being the greatest collection of talent since Thomas Jefferson dined alone in the White House.  He had tried it in the clubs as “the greatest collection of drunken a**holes since Ted Kennedy dined alone because he killed his date.”  Luckily Ted Sorenson bailed him out again, crafting the crude jibe into the witty bon mot we remember today. [3]
  • [3]  Details from this era are sketchy at best.
  • [4]  Actually, it makes more sense the other way.  Today’s newspeeps are preening, self-important idiots who are not at all inquisitive.

 

Science Fiction Theatre – Gravity Zero (01/11/57)

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Host Truman Bradley tells us we are at Mattering Institute of Technology.  It is usually a good sign when SFT gives its setting an actual name rather than a generic moniker like “small midwestern college”.  Unless this is the real MIT using an alias out of shame.

Dr. John Hustead has been experimenting with a magnetic field “that will not only make objects weightless, but actually reverse the effects of the earth’s gravitational pull”  so that dropped toast will finally land jelly-side up, but on the ceiling.  Elizabeth Wickes enters and tells him she just filled in at a lecture that he absent-mindedly forgot.  Later, from 4:00 – 4:10 she will cover his weekly office hours.

Kudos to SFT for again being progressive in showing a female scientist.  If I knew how to insert a flowchart, I would follow that up with: IF the woman is not his wife, THEN she must be dating his protégé.  Hustead shows her how he is able to float a block of wood in a magnetic field.  He worries that the Dean will not be sufficiently impressed by this miraculous feat that will forever change construction, transportation, aviation, and whole economies; especially after the Dean sees Hustead’s I Like Ike bumper sticker.

Ken Waring drops by to tell Dr. Hustead the Dean wants to see him.  After Hustead leaves, Waring hoists some wood of his own as he gets handsy with Elizabeth.  Aha!  As predicted, it is revealed that he and Elizabeth are engaged.

Wow!  I do not see this engagement working out.

Sure enough, the Dean tells Dr. Hustead he has to show more progress to the Board of Regents, and can start by getting rid of that f***ing bumper sticker.  Also, his funding has just about run out and all he has to show for it is the second greatest achievement in physics of all time [1].  Hustead promises to have something by Friday.  As I always tell my boss, that means 5 pm — don’t start asking at 9 am.

Back in the lab, Elizabeth and Ken tell Dr. Hustead that during the thunderstorm that just blew up, the wooden disc shot to the ceiling.  They try to reproduce the phenomenon but succeed only in blowing up the transformer.  Hustead theorizes that something gave the disc negative mass.  He says if the disc were left in space, it would rise. [2] I think I know what he means, but the Board of Regents will not be thrilled by the incoherent ramblings of a confused old man; they aren’t MSNBC, after all.

At 3 am, Dr. Hustead stealthily enters the girl’s dormitory to find Elizabeth.  He drags her away from the pillow-fight with her lingerie-clad roommates [SCENE MISSING], back to the lab to show her he has succeeded in floating the disk to the ceiling.  The next morning, he calls the Dean in to witness this breakthrough.  Unfortunately the demonstration fails and they blow another transformer coil.

After way too much talking, Hustead figures out the device needs fresh air . . . or cool air . . . or micro-changes in air density . . . or something.  Frankly, I need this device to make my eyelids elevate.

He calls the Dean and Ken back to the lab.  After opening a window, the experiment is a success.  To further prove the device works (i.e. to show off), he points it at an air conditioning unit.  Amazingly, Elizabeth is then able to easily lift the 1-ton unit.  Even more amazing, she does it by lifting one side and it does not tip over.  Hmmm, the unit is not up to code and is apparently not connected to any conduit or ductwork.  No wonder they had to open the window.  Hey, wait a minute, this thing had negative mass — it was supposed to float by itself!  Shades of Theranos! [4]

Anyhoo, the Dean finally realizes he can exploit Dr. Hustead’s research and ability to sneak into the girl’s dormitory.  Elizabeth’s fiancée Ken Waring is strangely absent for most of the episode.  There is a barely mentioned sub-plot wherein the Dean is going to evict Hustead and give his lab space to Ken for his ground-breaking Blender research.  Elizabeth and Hustead don’t seem bothered by this.  Then, when Dr. Hustead earns the right to stay, Ken does not seem upset by the cancellation of Operation Purée.

Dr. Hustead jokes that after the wedding, Ken can use the device to carry Elizabeth’s fat ass across the threshold, which seems gratuitous and out of character.  Although, to be fair the audio was a little garbled. [3]

I rate it 2500 BTUs.  I mean ATUs — we buy American in this house!

Other Stuff:

  • [1]  I’m not even sure what the first would be.  I guess this is a good set-up for a funny joke, but this is neither the time nor the place.
  • [2]  The narrator tells us, “They were not able to make the disc float as high as it went before.”  C’mon SFT, that’s not how negative gravity works.  If it floats even a little, it will keep going until out of the grasp/push of the Earth’s gravity.
  • [2]  He also says, “It remained slightly tipped with respect to the vertical.”  Well, it is wobbling, but flat like the Jupiter II, not like the spaceships in Arrival.  So wouldn’t it be “with respect to the horizontal?”  Or why not just say it wobbled, Dr. Fancypants?
  • [3]  OK, he did make the threshold joke, but her derrière was admirably proportional.
  • [4]  Pop Quiz, Hotshot:  Is this a) an Elizabeth Holmes reference, b) a Marvel movie reference, or c) an exclamation by Perry White?
  • Title Analysis:  The 2nd consecutive Fail.  It is not zero gravity, it is negative gravity.  Or gravity negative, to follow the pretentious, Yoda-esque template of the  title.
  •   Available online, but why would ya?