This episode was adapted by a woman from a story by a woman, directed by a woman, and was maybe enjoyed by a woman somewhere. I can’t say it was bad or that I didn’t like it, but for my manly-man tastes is seemed very mannered, and very soft, with no sharp edges.
Long time bachelor Horace Meade returns to his mansion with his new bride Sybilla. He asks his butler to “take Mrs. Meade’s things up to her room.” Hunh? Horace gives her a tour of the mansion. He points out the many antiques, and Sybilla asks if his mother picked them out. He says, “Certainly not. My mother had atrocious taste.”
Next up is the lovely dining room which Horace decorated. Sybilla says “it is perfect. Just like I imagined it.” Horace says there is something she must tell her, but rather than being as articulate as usual, he fumbles his words. She bails him out by saying she understands that he has been self-sufficient for a long time, so she will abide by his rules. Yeah, I’m not sure that’s what he was struggling to say. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
He tells her his breakfast routine which is the exactly same every morning. She says, “You must always tell me exactly what you prefer, my darling. I don’t want to make any mistakes. Never.” Now that appeals to my manly-man taste.
His whole day is similarly regimented. Lunch at exactly 1 pm, and dinner at exactly 8 pm. Then the tour continues in his office. Sybilla surprises him with a new oak desk that she had delivered as a wedding gift. Horace does a fine job of appearing to like the desk, but also conveying that he is horrified by the gift, as pedestrian a waste of wood as his wife is.
Sybilla says, “I know how much you value your privacy. I will never come in here to interfere or bother. I promise you.” She declines his offer of wine saying, “It’s late. I think I’ll go up to my bedroom now.” Horace must tell her it is at the end of the hall on the right, because his tour oddly seemed to be putting that particular room off as long as possible. He says, “I happen to believe in separate rooms. I hope you understand.” Sybilla says, “Of course I do. You must always tell me how you prefer everything. I only want to please you.” Wait, are they sure this was written by a women, because it is sure starting to sound like a man’s fantasy.
Horace grows to be amazed at how “gentle and agreeable” Sybilla always is. Somehow this is suffocating to him. He offers to set her up with an apartment in the city, and give her a generous allowance. She says she is perfectly content living in the country with Horace. “You are my life now.” Somehow, this distresses him.
Finally, Horace can take this torture no more. He decides he must murder Sybilla, and high time, too. This does not go as planned and sets up a tension that exists for years until she dies of natural causes. After she has died, Horace can finally admit to himself that he loved her.
So, there are some good twists here, but we do end up with a sappy conclusion. As I said, the whole episode just feels “soft”. Maybe the setting — I’m guessing the 1910s — account for the gentleness and perfect, clipped elocution by Horace. Barbara Bel Geddes does an excellent job selling Sybilla’s obsequious, fawning dialogue without coming across as weak or submissive. I question whether she should maybe have shown a slight edge so we more seriously questioned her motives. But what do I know? Nobody is hiring me to write or direct a TV show, and I’m a dude!
Other Stuff:
- Hitchcock’s intros are always worth watching (unlike a certain keeper of crypts I could mention). This one is a standout as we get a murder before the credits.
It takes so little to entertain me. John Newland opened the episode this week standing in the rain with an umbrella. Never saw Rod Serling do that. And it was real rain, or at least real fake rain. Not the usual screen of drizzle between the camera and the actor where he miraculously doesn’t get a drop on him. Like the glimpse of the French Street in the previous episode, the little things in this series really ground it for me.
He drives aimlessly through a laughably spotty rain storm, and finally stops at the edge of a cliff. He angily talks to himself, mocking his wife’s words, such as when she accused him of being a lousy lawyer. Seeing her dopey hat on the seat just makes him angrier. He rolls down the car window using some sort of hand-powered crank mechanism — WTF? — and tosses it out into the rain. I hope some innocent child doesn’t find that and put it on.
Carol sensed his life was in danger, but that didn’t stop her from turning out the light and going to sleep. At the same time, he was passing out from the pain as the rain continued soaking him. The next morning, Carol sees that Will didn’t come home, and is visibly angry about it. He regains consciousness and calls Carol’s name. Again, she thinks she hears his voice at the house and actually starts to get concerned. BTW, it is still pouring rain.
They spot Will and his car at the bottom of the cliff. Carol and the detective do some cool minor stunt work sliding down to the bottom. Carol takes him in her arms, and the detective calls for back-up.
Nick and T go to Starr’s jewelry store. But it’s not a legitimate business — the storefront is a facade. Heeyyyooooo!
I guess Nick was wearing a flak jacket because he tells T the same thing girls always tell me: “Next time, aim lower!” Nick gets in the getaway car and gets away. But wait, T must have also had a flak jacket on because he jumps up and fires several shots at the car as it peels out. Remember, kids — double-tap! Did we learn nothing from John Wick?
Unfortunately, the story doesn’t seem to make sense or even play fair. The reasonable assumption any horror fan would make is that Nick is dead the whole time. Some of the dialogue between him and the clerk or the woman also cleverly suggests that.
The next day, after being bullied at school as usual, Kevin goes back to see the man. After he guides Kevin through an operation to seal his wound, he gives him a patch that gives him super strength. Although, since it is applied to the back of the hand, I think the monkey should go unspanked tonight.
Sadly, tonight’s regularly scheduled episode, Legend of Crater Mountain [1], does not appear to be online. I assume that is due to a copyright claim that — hey, Truman Bradley brought a hot young chick to the lab!
Because of their lack of money, Grace is arranging their dinner settings — seriously — on an ironing board covered by a tablecloth. Bob’s associate Charlie drops by. He has determined that some equipment is missing from the lab and wonders if Bob maybe knows anything about it. Under this brutal interrogation, Bob folds like an ironing board dining room table. He takes Charlie into the spare bedroom; at least I hope Bob and Grace aren’t sleeping in there.
That morning, Grace goes off to teach a class, and Bob tutors Elaine at home. Bob gets a call from Professor Adams asking him to come in. He leaves Elaine there to study. She says, “At least it is easier to study here than the sorority house.” What with all the topless pillow-fights, I imagine. As Bob leaves, he tells her not to go into the other room. Of course, she is on her feet before the scent of his Pomade has left the room.