Neale, the American, called himself The Tumbleweed because, like tumbleweeds of his native west, he was forever rolling.
Like the tumbleweeds on The Outer Limits, this one is sentient. He wants a wife, kids and a home . . . he didn’t want to roll.
He currently holds the cushy post of Acting Deputy Commissioner[1] for Allaha the White Queen of Amatonga in Rhodesia. Since Robert Mugabe was only 13 years old, it might have still still been a nice place to live.
The White Queen is the son of an English Commander who apparently did not believe in the Brexit, because he sired over a hundred children. They were of “all shades and coloring” but she was the only one white enough to be queen. She grew up to marry “the coal-black Chief of the Amatonga”. The Chief was killed by a lion when “learning to hunt with a rifle instead of a spear”, so Allaha ascended to the throne. Later, after her stomach calmed down, she ascended to power.
Back in the present, Allaha and Neale receive word that Lady Diana Sutwell and Fred Blake crashed flying into Capetown. “Three-score of blacks with spears and loin-cloths” are dispatched to find the white woman . . . and the dude, if he happens to be there. Before they even have the chance for a single man to be killed by lions — did the Chief’s death teach them nothing? — Blake and Lady Di stumble into camp on their own. Quickly, her body language is nagging Neale to death:
No brassiere restrained [her breasts]. They stood out, firm little mounds pressing against that shirt of hers as if she was saying “Yes I am a woman. Now what the hell are you going to do about it?”
Hips alone that would drive a man crazy. She stood smiling at Neale as if she was saying, “What the hell? I’m a woman, yes. What does that mean to you?”
Despite having bedded Allaha the night before, Neale tells Lady Di — the daughter of a duke — that he loves her and wants to marry her despite his lowly station in life. He knows this is as unlikely as a chauffeur marrying the Lord’s daughter. He tells her straight-out, though, that he wants to have the sex with her. She declines, saying that she is content to wait for Mr. Right.
Uber-respecter of women Neale leaves to find the other white meat, Allaha. Unable to locate her, he circles back to the house. He overhears Diana telling his assistant Roscoe that of course she and Blake were more than just travel-buddies. She then disses Neale, saying she prefers a man who lives life to the fullest like Blake. She and Roscoe then begin making out. What?
Neale orders Roscoe back to his post. Blake enters and seems to have no problem with either Roscoe or Neale banging his girl. Worried of an attack by the natives, Neale prepares by picking up Diana’s clothes. He says, “I’ll give these back to you before we leave. Till then you’re going to be just a human female creature, and you’re going about without clothes like any female of the animal species.”
The natives, led by Allaha, attack the house. The four white bullet-chuckers easily dispatch the natives attacking the house with spears. Blake suggests that maybe Diana — who fought while still naked — might get her clothes back. Diana says, “Hell I don’t want them!” just to torture Neale. Yeah, that’ll show him. I mean literally show him.
The natives return to the house and set it on fire — which really should have been Plan A. The gang is rescued by the Rhodesian police. After all the stereotypes and racial epithets that I have skipped over, there is this surprisingly progressive passage:
Through the bush came a troop of hard-bitten Rhodesian police troopers firing with carbines from their saddles driving the natives into the depths of the scrub, tramping them down, imposing on them the terror that the white man exercises on the native everywhere in the world.
Only Neale and Diana survive the siege. That night he goes to her tent. She says, “You fought so gallantly and I had thought you were just a weakling. I couldn’t love you when you came to me with your life story instead of dominating me.”
They agree that they hate each, so naturally start making out. The next day Lady Diana heads back to Buluwayo, hopefully not tailed by paparazzi.
Meh. But it does deserve special recognition for most gratuitous use of nudity in a story.
Post-post:
- [1] Or Deputy Acting Commissioner according to his boss.
- She really is referred to as Lady Di in the story.
- First published in March 1937.
Bob Spindler has just closed some sort of big deal that is not important enough to describe to the viewers. It was big enough to score him a commission of $1,500. That’s still only $3k today. A nice payday, but not life-changing — unless you’re Bob Spindler.
From this point forward, good structure would dictate that everything happens for a reason, leading to an logical conclusion. Unless the desired result was confusion, this was not the case.
A stranger bathed in angelic light like Warren Beatty[2] offers to put up the remaining $100. Spindler buys himself a bar! He drunkenly tours his new kingdom. The customers suddenly become motionless or very slow — why wouldn’t it be one or the other? Spindler passes out and awakens in a busted-ass, dusty abandoned building — the bar he bought last night. So I guess beer-goggles work on real estate too.
In the big picture, he did bad. He is consigned to eternity in this abandoned bar where he will be eternally tormented by the sunny reality he can only see through slits in the shuttered windows. I’m totally on board with that; I’m just not sure why we needed more dead ends than 
Jackie (Eric Bogosian) is not much of a burglar. He has just scaled a rope a) in front of a museum on the side facing the street, and b) left the rope dangling behind him. Maybe that jerk can climb a rope, but I’m smarter. Whoa, gym class flashback.
In the next scene, after some unspecified period of time, Jackie is in a white suit on a stage. He has wisely started going by the name Brother John — a faith healer just like the ones on TV; except legitimate. He is kneeling before a girl in a wheelchair and asks for her to be healed. The young actress seems like she couldn’t care less. She does at least give a smile when BroJo yanks her out of the chair and she is able to walk.
Pop Quiz: Is it a Cop, a Construction Worker, an Indian, a Cowboy, a Soldier, or a Biker? This is Hollywood — of course, it is the mystical Indian because all Indians have magic powers. Or, in this case, Mexicans playing Indians as is the actor Joaquin Martinez.[1] He has come to get the Healing Stone which is sacred to his people. BroJo is ready to return the stone, but Harry refuses. The Indian, tells him that after this choice, his path might not be pleasant.
BroJo walks away from the church. He has a renewed sense of caring for people which will last until his Mafioso pal puts another bullet in his gut for not curing him.
First shot: man shaves in front of mirror. Second shot: man wakes up from nightmare and looks into a mirror. Gee, I wonder where this is going?
As in TZ60’s 
Finally the guard spots feet under the desk, but toes-up which is unusual. Twitchy then kills him — I really didn’t think he had it in him, so that was a surprise. He hears noises and finds Chance2 pouring them a couple of drinks — doubles, I imagine. See, because they’re . . .
Then I have no idea what happens. Twitchy replays in his mind the events from having that morning, to the deal with Markham. In this iteration, though, the deal went through as he expected and he pocketed $45,000 — literally, as he is ecstatic to unexpectedly find $45,000 in his pocket. Jackie pops the cork on some champagne. When she enters the bedroom, Twitchy is proudly holding out the stacks of bills in his hands. When she looks at his hands, however, all she sees are 12 fingers, 2 of them being cold, dead and severed.