Category Archives: TV

Alfred Hitchcock Presents – The Horse Player (03/14/61)

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Hey, the church roof is leaking and the pastor is played by Claude Rains.  If you’re looking for criticism more insightful than that, let me save you some time right now.

Pop Quiz: This screenshot is stretched out like the _____ ____ ________ .   Correct answers will be deleted.

Father Amion’s church is in bad shape.  Not only is the service sparsely attended, but the roof is a sieve, with multiple leaks drizzling water into buckets, onto heads, and unto their feet. [1]  A Building Contractor stops by the church after the service and surprisingly speaks without his tongue catching fire.  He tells Amion it will cost $1,500 to fix the roof.

The church doesn’t have that kind of ready cash, but things are looking up as a ten-spot appears in the collection basket.  At the next service, Amion pulls aside the church’s generous new member.  The benefactor, Mr. Sheridan, is not dressed like the other church-goers.  He has no tie, is in a wrinkled jacket, and is sporting a goofy hat.  Actually, he is dressed like a church-goer, just one from a few years in the future.  Slackers!

He says he has lived in the area for 20 years.  He just started coming in after seeing the church’s sign TRY PRAYER.  He was a loser, and found that prayer turned his life around.  Father Amion is happy to hear the man has found religion, but less so when he learns that Sheridan credits prayer for “six winners out of eight” at the track, and “one of them was a 20-to-1 shot.”  Amion might have felt better if he knew the Jesus responsible for the 20-to-1 win was the Guatemalan stable-boy.

Yes, more stretched out screencaps this week. I own the DVDs, but they’re waaaay over there on the other side of the room.  Blame COVID.

Amion tries to explain to Sheridan why this is wrong.  He asks, “What if everyone rooted for their own horse; what would God do?”  He’s God, I think he could come up with something.  Sheridan says it is their own fault for “not being wise to this prayer racket.”

A few days later, Sheridan returns to the church and gives another $30 to Amion.  He even suggests a horse that Amion might want to place a bet on — Red Devil in the 4th race at Belmont.  Amion declines.

A few days later, Amion sees Sheridan in a new convertible, and wearing a bow-tie.  The “prayer racket” has continued to pay off.  Sheridan has hit on 14 of his last 18 bets.  He again tries to give Amion a hot tip.  Sally’s Pal broke the track record and is going to be running against “broken down fillies”.  Sheridan says colts run from fillies “like burg-u-lars.”  The odds are 15 to 1, so there is big money to be made.

Sheridan says if he hits it big, he is moving to Florida. If I hit it big, I’m leaving this freakin’ hellscape.  

Amion asks how much he would win if he bet $500.  Sheridan says, “Let’s say worse comes to worse and the horse only pays 10 bucks, the least a guy would pick up would be about $2,500.”  Amion asks Sheridan to place the bet for him.  Kudos for this subtle reference to the nuances of Win Place & Show betting.  To the casual boob (i.e. me), the math seems way off at first.  However, after some thought (or Googling), you can see how it would not only be possible, but also explain the denouement.

Amion is immediately seized by guilt and confesses to the monsignor.  The monsignor says he must pray for the horse to not win.   “You can’t expect a reward for your sin, no matter what the consequences.”

Amion does pray for the horse not to win.  He is still praying when Sheridan returns to the church.  He immediately apologizes to Sheridan for the horse not winning.  Sheridan confuses Amion by offering him a wad of bills.  He says, “You didn’t expect me to risk your dough on a WIN bet did you?  I took the $500 and bet him to PLACE.  He came in 2nd and paid $8.40.”   Sheridan hands over his winnings of $2,100.  The Lord works in parimutuel ways.

As always, another class act from AHP.  This one has the benefit of being directed by Hitchcock himself.  Claude Rains does his usual excellent job.  The surprise is Ed Gardner as Sheridan.  He is such a great presence, that I can’t believe how slim his resume is at IMDb.  

Other Stuff

  • [1]  I feel like I need to point out this is a reference to Lamp Unto My Feet — a show whose title I found hilarious as a kid.  It was a religious program that ran for 30 years and, astoundingly, was produced by CBS.  It’s almost like it was a different millennium.  They might still be embarrassed by Hee Haw but surely this one is censored from the archives completely.
  • For information about the background and production, check out bare*bones e-zine.  
  • Were some of the musical cues in this episode used in Leave it to Beaver?

One Step Beyond – The Haunted U-Boat (05/12/59)

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One Step Beyond had a good run of episodes set in the USA — two.  The tally is now 9 out of 17 episodes of this American series being set elsewhere.  This week we are asked to empathize with the crew of a Nazi U-Boat.  Is it too late to get that Hollywood Blacklist back?

U-Boat 147 is docked off the coast of Northern Germany.  Everyone who thought Germany was landlocked, rise your right hand. No, wait, don’t!  They are welcoming aboard Herr Bautmann, an aide to Der Fuhrer.  He is played by Werner Klemperer, Klink from Hogan’s Heroes.  In less than one minute, the words Hauptmann, Captain and Kapitan are all used.  Thus the TV precedent is established for Sgt. Schultz’s ein, zwei, three, four style of speaking. [2]  

As Bautmann is boarding, the sub is strafed and bombed.  The plane’s crew should be embarrassed that, with no defensive fire, they did not kill any Nazi’s or damage the sub.  The SFX crew should be embarrassed that the strings on the model plane are clearly visible. [1]  They submerge, but hear a clanging on the hull.  Fearful that they have left a man or bottle of schnapps on deck, the Captain wants to resurface, but Bautmann orders him not to.  Strangely, the entire crew is accounted for.

Bautmann takes a nap, but is awakened by the crew singing.  He is not mad, though.  He is cheered by the vitality of the young Aryan men on board.  He joins them with a bottle of cognac.  The clanging starts again and he nervously drops the bottle.  He runs to the captain and demands to know what the sound is.  He gets increasingly frantic and accuses the crew of doing this to “shake his nerves” and rattle his brain.

Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!

The captain surfaces and the crew begins searching again for the source of the banging.  Bautmann is snoozing outside on the conning tower.  Word has come over the radio that Hitler has killed himself.  Bautmann is furious that someone has made up this lie to make him crazy.  He takes the radio and reports to the crew that Hitler died as a hero, leading his troops into battle.  Imagining that little uni-testicled asshole doing such a thing will be the best laugh you have in the next 5 minutes (admittedly a low bar).

The captain gets word that a ship is approaching, and orders the sub to dive.  Bautmann is furious that he won’t stay surfaced and find that clanging.  In observation of Axis Diversity Day, a crewman uses a karate chop to shut him up.

While the sub is pursued by the ship, Bautmann wakes up in his bunk.  He runs to the bridge shouting, “I can’t breathe!”  Then the clanging begins again.  He cries like [NAME REDACTED] [3] for the pounding to stop.  He finally passes out and the noise also stops.  The captain then realizes that they only hear the clanging when Bautmann is awake.

As depth charges explode around them, the Captain decides to surface and surrender.  Hitler is dead, the war is over, and he has no clean turtlenecks left, so what is the point?

Klempererer really chewed the bulkheads as he played Bautmann going insane.    The story didn’t quite gel, though.  Why did this phenomenon attach itself to him?  Sure, he’s a Nazi, but look around — they’re all Nazis!  Don’t forget that!  I guess we are to assume that he was an especially bad egg because he served so close to Hitler.  Then why was it audible to everyone, unlike the Tell-Tale Heart which was clearly an inspiration?  It was clearly directed at Bautmann since it occurred only during his waking hours.  

I guess that doesn’t really matter, and they only had 25 minutes to cram the story into.  On a note so routinely positive that it is getting boring — this show again looks fabulous!  The model at the beginning is only jarring because it is cut in with much other actual footage.  Kudos also on the submarine set.  It felt very accurate to me — to this day, I remember the layout, the claustrophobia, the smell of my countrymen packed in.  I must admit, I spent time aboard a German U-Boat during the war. [4]  

Disturbing banging on naval vessels became a regular trope.  We saw it on The Twilight Zone in the 1960’s.  Then in the 1970’s with these guys.

John Newland sez, “Next week we travel to the chateau country of France.”  Sacre bleu!

Other Stuff:

  • [1]  No points deducted for that.  It is really only an issue because it was preceded by so many great inserts of actual war footage.  Besides, seeing a model is kind of charming vs the CGI we are used to.
  • [2]  Bautmann is a civilian.  If he were a captain, he would be Hauptmann Bautmann.  That’s almost the Nazi equivalent of Major Major, but not as funny.  Whaddya want, they’re f***ing Nazis.
  • [3]  Nope, not here either.
  • [4]  OK, it was about an hour inside U-505 at the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry during the Gulf War, but isn’t that actually better?

Outer Limits – Starcrossed (08/13/99)

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“In the year 2050, Earth was invaded by a humanoid race called The Hing. For six years a hard and grinding war was fought. At its conclusion, we were forced to agree that The Hing would retain control the land they already won.”

So wait, we were “forced” to agree, suggesting humanity was losing the war and accepted this compromise to avoid being eradicated.  But The Hing only demanded control of land already won?  Frankly, that’s a pretty sweet deal for humanity.  Quit yer bellyaching!

A young couple runs through the woods wearing camo.  They break through the treeline and see the NYC-ish city of Ark-Angel across the river.  They seem relieved, but that river is the size of the Hudson, so they aren’t out of the woods yet.  Well, literally, but not figuratively.  A Hing catches them, but he has a severe reaction when the woman exposes him to her toxic blood.  The same thing happened at Altamont when Keith Richards got a paper cut on some Zig Zags.  At least, that’s how I heard it.

That was a well-done intro.  Inside a bar named Heaven, the episode scores even more points by introducing Nathen Fillion as the lead, and Robbie Chong along side him.  He is the manager of the hotel which is a Casablancaesque crossroads where Hing and Human have an uneasy peaceful coexistence.   The Russkis also hang out there, in case there wasn’t enough tension; or alcoholics.

The woman from the intro enters the bar.  Immediately, one of The Hing starts hitting on her.  Wow, they really are humanoid — he’s better looking than me! At least Star Trek gave their aliens f***ed up foreheads.  Fillion puts her on the spot by saying she is in the bar to audition as a singer.  Luckily, she is able to flawlessly belt out a tune since voice and music lessons are often available during apocalyptic alien invasions. 

She and the guy ask Fillion for a scout ship that he has for some reason.  I’m sure it was explained, but I fell asleep multiple times trying to finish the episode, and I feel like I’ve done my duty.  He leads them to the white ship which is cleverly hidden . . . in a field, visible from miles away even at night.  Maybe he had the valet bring it around.  Again, I just couldn’t keep my eyes open.

This is the episode that broke me in September 2019.  It just seemed too awesome.  It had the always-entertaining Nathan Fillion, which should made made the episode.  It was a spin on Casablanca, but with no French people.  Fillion earned his pay by putting his spin on lines sometimes genuinely clever, and sometimes elevated by his delivery.  It had a good opening, and I thought I was unworthy to comment on such a great hunk of TV. 

I must not have finished the episode.  This was the biggest disappointment since the broadcast TV version of Blazing Saddles. [1]  Despite having so much going for it, and even with a classic movie to felch filch from, they just couldn’t fill the hour.  Oh, how they tried.  It zipped along like a glacier.  There were 2 — count ’em 2 — full songs sung by the girl whose name I still don’t know (of the songs or the girl).  Much as I like Nathan Fillion, the lengthy chest-kissing scene with sidal nudity is soul-crushing.  The episode ends with an absurdly staged gunfight which introduces slow-motion more drawn out than a Snyder Cut.

My recollection is that this series of Outer Limits rarely got your adrenaline flowing, but they were always solid.  Sadly, a few good quips couldn’t save this one.  There is just nothing here.  Go watch Firefly or Dr. Horrible instead.

[1]  OK, no Blazing Saddles at the link.  Actually, the TV version of Cameron Diaz’s line would have been a better choice.

Tales of the Unexpected – Edward the Conqueror (05/05/79)

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Well, one of the cast played Luke’s Uncle Owen in Star Wars.  I guess that’s something. 

And I do like watching cats.  Like the car in Vanishing Point or the choppers in Easy Rider, you can have a good time just watching them travel across the screen.  But that’s about all you’re going to get out of this episode.  It’s a shame, too, because with some of the dry wit that TOTU is capable of, this could have been fun.  Couldn’t anyone on the set . . . the caterer? . . . anyone? . . . have said, “Maybe we could liven this up a bit.”

The horror of this house’s architecture would have made for a better story, BTW.

Edward, the inexplicably titular conqueror, is burning brush behind his house.   His wife Louisa notices a cat watching the fire.  Edward shoos it away, but somehow it mysteriously turns up later inside the house.  

Louisa finds it on their sofa and tries to make it comfortable by a) putting out a saucer of milk, b) bringing out that leftover tuna, or c) playing a little Schuman on the piano.  Of course it is C, although why there is a Schumann song in a book that says LISZT on the cover is not explained.

She also tries playing some Liszt and Bach to see what the cat prefers.  He makes his preference known by knocking over her collection of great composer bobble-heads, except for Liszt.

Louisa excitedly calls Edward into the house.  She says she believes the cat is the reincarnation of Franz Liszt.  Edward face-palms and thinks, “How did I end up here?  I was in freakin’ Citizen Kane!” [1]  She plays a few bars of Liszt and the cat suddenly becomes frisky, jumping off the couch.  Hey, maybe I need me some Liszt!  Feeling vindicated, she takes off her glasses and gives Edward a smile that probably worked when Ike was President.

Edward wants to again test the cat’s ability to identify its own music, but Louisa says,  “I refuse to treat him like a circus animal”.  Well, it sure is nice to see she is such an activist for animals’ welfare.  To get proof, Louisa goes to visit a local crackpot that specializes in reincarnation — and leaves the cat in the car with the windows rolled up. 

The scene with the reincarnation expert is intended to be the comedy portion of the show.  Really, it is mostly a series of non-sequiturs spouted by the expert such as “Epictetus came back as Ralph Waldo Emerson, Cicero returned as Gladstone” and so on.  There seems to be no effort to connect the pairs and, of course, there is not a peon or a serf in the bunch.  However, he also mentions that Lord Byron was reincarnated as a tiger and the proof was a physical deformity: The tiger was “lame” and Byron had a “club foot”.  I suspect there are more woke ways to say that, but I shant waste a second looking for them. OK, this was actually a pretty good scene, but it did feel like a squandered opportunity. [3]

Luckily it was a typical pre-Global Warming English afternoon, so the cat survived being locked in the car.  Louise discovers that Liszt had 5 large warts on his face.  She then finds 5 bumps on the cat’s face.  QED!

Edward is still unpersuaded, so Louise plays a Chopin piece that Liszt was known to hate.  As she begins playing, the cat meows and runs off to another room.  When she changes to a Liszt piece, the cat comes back.  Edward actually begins to believe this is the reincarnation of Liszt, but is horrified that Louise wants to go public.  

She is sick of him oppressing her throughout their whole marriage, and he seems to hate that she has found something that might get her a little attention.  He orders her into the kitchen to make dinner.  Given the nature of English food, he must really be pissed.  She says, “You poor dear, you must be famished.”  It is a nice switcheroo when it is revealed she was talking to the cat.

Louise prepares a cat-meal fit for a maestro while Edward goes out to build up the fire.  He smiles for the first time maybe ever as he pitches something into the fire.  When she calls the cat to eat, he does not come.  However, Edward comes in and his hands are covered in bloody claw-marks.  Louise grabs a knife and advances on a terrified Edward.  A different cat enters their house through an open window. 

I find that I like these episodes more on the second viewing.  As I’ve said before, maybe I need that first pass to lower my expectations.  If I’m ever trapped in the house for extended period of time with nothing to do, maybe I’ll rewatch Ray Bradbury Theatre.  No, it will take more than COVID.  

But this episode did grow on me more than my notes would indicate.  It still had rough patches, especially the ending.  The editing could have been done by the architect who designed that house.  I guess Edward killed the cat first, then pitched him into the fire because we don’t hear any caterwauling or just plain wauling.  Then the other cat enters.

First, we are shown him entering through an open window which kinda wrecks the effect of the mysterious appearance of the first cat in the house.  Second, why is it a different cat?  Does that mean Liszt’s soul was in both cats?  Or did Liszt just seize this new cat’s body and kick out its existing soul when his old body got burned up, like Steve Trevor did to that rando in Wonder Woman 1984? I kinda thought reincarnation was baked in at birth. [4]

So again, I am left with a slightly positive feeling about an episode that I would never in a million cat-years recommend to anyone. 

Other Stuff:

  • [1]  Joseph Cotton was indeed in Citizen Kane. He played Jed Leland, who ratted out the Governor of New York for having an inappropriate sexual relationship.  Hey, what is this, Science Fiction Theatre?  That could never happen today. [2]
  • [2]  To be fair, Andrew Cuomo’s circumstances are different.  Kane was only a candidate for NY Governor.  Also, Kane did not use the story as a distraction to enable the corrupt media to largely ignore the worse crime of how he doomed hundreds of old people by sending them to nursing homes to catch COVID and then lied about it.
  • [3]  For example, he says Julius Caesar was reincarnated as Abe Lincoln.  Why not reincarnate Caesar as Ty Cobb for a salad theme?  Or Lincoln as Henry Ford then Freddie Mercury for a car theme?  So, something like that except a lot more clever.
  • [4]  And, yes, it is Liszt again because it goes straight to the still-standing Liszt bobble-head.  Shouldn’t this be called Liszt the Conqueror?  How is Edward a conqueror?
  • We learn Liszt was Wagner’s father-in-law.  Or, at least, I did.

Science Fiction Theatre – Doctor Robot (11/30/56)

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This week, Truman Bradley is excited to show us a keyboard on which the keys play sounds from the English language.  Maybe I’m not appreciating this leap in technology, but it is pretty unimpressive.  He says the goal is to create “a machine that translates a given text from one language to another.”  So far they have invented the See n’ Say. [1] Baby steps, I guess.

Dr. Edgar Barnes, head of Operation Polyglot, has come in early to see if anyone was tampering with the machines.  He finds that someone has soldered some wires to a terminal.  Worse, he realizes it will take a year of programming to make the machine understand the word “solder” does not rhyme with colder.  He also notices the debris leftover from some computer punch-cards.

He takes the bits of paper to Security Chief Phil Coulson — wait, what?  They go back to the lab.  Barnes — is his nickname Bucky by any chance? — shows him the typewriter where words are input, and the other typewriter where they come out in “French, German, Spanish, Russian and Chinese” although I am dubious of a 1956 Smith Corona having a 废话 key. [2]

He says no one could have punched those cards except his 3 subordinates.  But they passed the rigorous 1956 security screening by being US citizens over 21, white, male, and owning a hat.  Coulson goes undercover as a member of the foundation supporting their work, and takes the gang out to dinner.  They discuss what they do in their off hours.  Sadly, Dr. Lopert’s wife “has been ill for some time” so he hangs out at the lab most of the time.  A government worker putting in those kind of hours sounds suspicious to our guys, so they go back to the lab and go through his desk.  They find letters written in several languages.  Luckily, they have just the machine to translate them.

After a couple of embarrassing letters to Russian mail-order bride magazines, they discover a letter from a German doctor stating his experience treating sub-acute bacterial endocarditis — hey, that’s what Mrs. Lopert suffers from!  So, Lopert has been using the machine to help his wife.  Coulson still thinks there might be something nefarious encoded in the letters, but he thought the same thing about his Alpha-Bits this morning.  After all, a man with a sick wife might be willing to sell secrets to the Russkis for cash or a coupon to upgrade his new mail-order wife from a dumpy 1950’s model to a swinging 1960’s Commie babe.  A search of Lopert’s home reveals a soldering iron and punch-cards.

I don’t know what this is, but it was a recommendation from dailymotion on this same page.

They catch Lopert in the lab that night tinkering with the computer.  He says he is using its logic to assess the best surgical treatment for his wife.  Touched by this, Coulson helps him and they work through the night.  The computer finally recommends a medical strategy, and even provides a contingency plan in case the procedure fails — insist on a Ukrainian girl.

The Loperts accept the computer’s decision and Mrs. L. has the operation.  In no time she is back in great health, and Lopert has lost his deposit from the magazine.  Even better, a grant has been approved for him to continue researching medical applications of the device.

Despite the always welcome presence of the gnome-like Whit Bissell, one of the series bigger slogs.

Other Stuff:

  • [1]  Why is the turkey quacking like a duck?  Maybe this technology is trickier than I thought.
  • [UPDATE] Starting the video a bit earlier, I see the pointer started on the duck.  I am not going erase the observation, though, because it was literally the most entertainment I got from the episode.  And in fairness — to me — it is a pretty poor design.  You point at the animal you want to hear, then pull the string.  The pointer spins while the noise plays.  There is nothing to contemporaneously associate the sound to the original selection.
  • [2]  A little off-point here, but what do Chinese people eat for breakfast?  They have lunch and dinner covered, but where are the Chinese joints open at 6 am for breakfast?