Alfred Hitchcock Presents – I Can Take Care of Myself (05/15/60)

Georgia is belting out a tune as Bert Haber plays piano at a swanky nightclub.  And she’s pretty dang good.  For a change, a singer on TV that I would pay to see.  But I went to see Bob Dylan this week, so my judgment is not to be trusted.

Infamous gangsta Little Dandy Dorf enjoys her just as much as me.  He sends a couple of martini’s up to the stage which strikes me as stupid:

  1. You don’t want a great singer slurring her words.
  2. Is she supposed to drink them on stage?
  3. Why did he send two?  Was he going to join her on stage?

Georgia walks away, leaving the drinks on the piano with no coasters.  The diminutive Dorf is highly insulted by her snub and disregard for fine spruce.  Bert tells the bar owner Joey that Dorf has been “dogging” Georgia for two weeks.  Joey advises them to be careful.

Bert goes backstage to Georgia’s dressing room.  Apparently this writer is too smart for me:

  1. Georgia refers to the owner as Bert’s pal Joey.  I get the reference, but I don’t think Pal Joey was a good guy.  The Joey here seems like a good egg.
  2. Georgia off-handedly says to Bert, “I love you.”  He replies, “You’re key is B flat, not A flat.”  Someone please explain what that means.
  3. She refers to Dorf as “the working girl’s nightmare.”  OK, she is literally a girl who works, but that usually refers to a hooker.  What does it mean here?

One of Dorf’s henchmen, who makes Luca Brasi look like George Clooney, comes to the door with a bouquet of flowers from Dorf.  They pretend not to know who Dorf is until Georgia says, “Oh you mean Little Dandy Dorf.”  Luca warns her, “He don’t like to be called Little.”  But Dandy and Dorf are acceptable?  She tells Luca to take the flowers back and “tell him they don’t smell — they stink!” Zing, I got that one!

As Georgia walks through the crowd to the stage for her second show, Dorf grabs her hand.  He stands up, showing himself to be a few inches shorter than her.  He is so persistent that she finally pours a martini over his head.  Bert runs to her defense.  There is a scuffle and Dorf falls to the floor.  He, Luca and Clemenza beat it out of the club.  Bert goes to the bar and orders a double.  A well-dressed goon tells him Mr. Dorf recommends he buy some insurance.

The next night, Georgia does not show up at the club.  A detective calls Bert over to his booth.  He asks for identification of a photo.  It is a photo of Georgia dead in an alley.  The detective interrogates Bert for the next 9 minutes — an eternity in TV time.  Well, with that investment of time, there’s one thing Bert can be sure of — this is a real policeman!

After Bert tells the detective about the incident with Dorf, the detective offers him police protection.  He follows the detective to the police car.  Only after the car pulls away does he notice the other passenger is the guy who earlier suggested he might want to invest in some insurance.

It’s a long way to go for a quick twist.  That is often the case with AHP, but the journey is almost always well done, and the ending worth the wait.  The biggest negative about this story was unavoidable.  I would have been happy to see Linda Lawson (Georgia) singing, wise-cracking, or just standing around for much more of the episode.  Sadly, that was not the story they were telling.  This series sometimes has the same actors appearing again within 2-3 weeks.  Inexplicably, it will be 4 years before AHP has her back (that’s about 20 in Genre Snaps years, so adios!).

The 5’3″ Frankie Darro (Dandy Dorf) was perfectly cast as the little man who was used to getting what he wanted.  He was truly menacing in a humorless, entitled performance.  He leaves the stage about the same time as Georgia, and his absence is felt as much as hers.  Of the other men, only Luca Brasi was truly memorable (but not enough to recall his name).

The 9 minutes of conversation with the supposed detective went on a bit long between 2 ordinary actors.  But never once did I think he was not a cop.

Other Stuff:

Twilight Zone – Street of Shadows (01/21/89)

It’s no fun kicking around a family down on their luck.  So, simply stated, Steve Cranston is an unemployed construction worker.  He is currently residing in a shelter with his wife Elaine and daughter Lisa.  The bad luck continues as he learns the shelter is about to be foreclosed on.

It is, however, fun to kick around the narrator.  Like last week, he trots out his best twee NPR voice to tell us “Steve Cranston, is a man living what Thoreau called ‘a life of quiet desperation’.”  Nope, still not fun.  Steve’s wife is supportive and his daughter clearly loves him even as they cuddle on a cot in a shelter.  Frustrated that he can’t provide for them, he blows up at his wife, and goes out for a walk.

Seriously, is this supposed to be something other than a shadow?

A police car passes him, shining a light in his face.  As the car passes, there is a shadow of the car from a streetlight.  I’m not sure they didn’t enhance it to last a little longer and be blacker.  There is even a musical stinger.  But ultimately it was a rectangular shadow that did nothing a normal shadow would not do.  Was this the titular shadow?  Or was it like the mist in the previous episode which cruelly got our hopes up for something . . . anything to happen.  Then disappeared. [1]

Steve finds himself on the sidewalk at the front gate of the mansion of local rich guy Frederick Perry.  His butler and a tech from Sleepwell Security are having an unsecure conversation about the security system.  The repairman needs a part, so the system will be inactive that night.  The butler and the man go their separate ways, leaving the security fence open, so neither of these guys is too bright.  As Steve watches, the fence begins to automatically close.  Wait, I thought it was inactive. [2]

Fortuitously having missed a few meals, Steve is able to squeeze inside before it closes.  He is so desperate for cash that he slides open a patio door and enters.  I guess it is the alarm system that is inactive tonight, although it seems to have deactivated the mechanical locks too.

In a possible sign of Steve’s real problem, surrounded by rich guy stuff, Steve first steals a swig of Mr. Perry’s booze.  On the way in, he has also knocked over a plant, left the door slightly open, and left a trail of muddy footprints.  Maybe this guy’s problem is not the economy — he’s just not very smart.

As Steve cases the room, we get a close-up of hands pulling a pistol from a drawer and nervously fumbling with the magazine.  The scene is so ineptly edited, though, that we don’t know which man has the gun.  Both men have reason to be scared.  Steve is reluctantly committing a crime to help his family, and a gun would just get him in deeper.  Perry knows that if he shoots a burglar in his own freakin’ house, he will be put on trial; worse, all his rich, liberal friends will know he owns a gun!

OK, it is Perry that has the gun.  He catches Steve just as he finds a wallet full of cash.  Steve tries to talk him into not calling the cops.  Perry is determined to make the call.  As the noted sociologist Billy Ray Valentine said, “You can’t be soft on people like that.”  Steve backs up until he hits the liquor cabinet  . . . funny how his hands always seem to find the hooch.  He slings the heavy decanter at Perry’s noggin just as Perry shoots him.  Both men go down like Frazier.

Steve wakes up in Perry’s bed.  Even stranger, the butler recognizes him as Frederick Perry. [3]  He tries to call his wife at the shelter but is told she went to the hospital with her husband who has been shot.

He goes to the hospital.  Looking like the man who shot Steve Cranston, that goes about as badly as you would expect.  As long as he is stuck in the body of multi-millionaire, he decides to do something good.

Soon, for no apparent reason, the two men later swap bodies again.  Frederick Perry abides by Steve’s good deed (i.e. the deed to the shelter).  Steve even gets a job out of the deal.  Whether Perry understands what happened is never addressed.  They all live happily ever after.  God bless us every one.

Except anyone who tuned in looking for an episode of The Twilight Zone.

To be fair, it was fine.  I’m just tired of the get-the-girl, save-the-family-farm, move-out-of-the-shelter endings.  I still get shivers thinking of the ending of On Thursday We Leave for Home which I saw 2 years ago.  I will forget this episode before breakfast.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Upon multiple viewings, it appears they CGI’d some eyes into the shadow.  If so, it is still so detached from the “event” as to be pointless.
  • [2] Perry’s Rolls Royce is parked just inside the gate.  Why is it down by the gate?  Wouldn’t it be under the porte-cochère at the house, or in the garage, or in front of the local nudie bar?  I guess that is to inform us Perry is rich just in case the security perimeter and butler don’t clue us in.
  • [3] No big deal, but the boom mike is visible a couple of times here.
  • Title Analysis:  What street?  What shadow?  That thing?

Tales from the Crypt – Whirlpool (10/31/94)

They are going for a meta motif tale about a sub-par story being handed in just before deadline at the office of the Tales from the Crypt comic book.  The episode seems even more meta than they realized.

In a dark seedy hotel room, Jerry calls floozy Velma to get in the tub with him.  Surprisingly, he is wearing a t-shirt and an open dress-shirt in the filled tub.  More surprising to him, I suspect, is the belt that Mr. Velma loops around his neck to kill him.  He strangles Jerry as he thrashes about in the water.  Thankfully, he not Porky-Pigging it but does have on some fabulous blue plaid boxers.  In the tub.  In the water.

The topless Velma cheers her husband Roger on as Jerry croaks; then dies.  The couple had used Jerry in a con, and were just getting rid of him.  Roger criticizes her for enjoying her work too much.  She admits she had some good memories.  Suddenly Jerry rises up and breaks her husband’s neck.  He says, “I’m glad you feel that way.  I’m all choked up!” as he reaches for her throat.  She screams, and that frozen shot dissolves into the last panel of the TFTC comic book submission from Rolanda.  Good stuff.

But what do I know?  Her editor Vern says he doesn’t understand.  Is Vern dead?  Is Roger dead?  Is one or both of them a ghoul?  “What kind of ending is that?”  Vern declares it “a piece of shit.”  Even with 2 hours to deadline, the story is deemed not good enough. [1]  He fires her and has security throw her off the elevator in a nice little uncushioned fall by Rita Rudner.  She comes back that night and blows him.  Away.  For some reason, 6 cops are waiting in the lobby and blow her away.

She wakes up the next morning to a sunny day, birds chirping, and complete lack of being dead.  The vignette with Roger, Jerry & Velma plays again, although notably beginning this time after Velma put on a bra.  Rolanda is stunned as the day replays just as it did before with Vern hating her submission and him having to use the story about the head.

Again, Vern calls her into his office.  This time she stops his hand from buzzing security; although it was later in the day when security killed her the first time.  I guess this, at least, saved her from being thrown to the floor again.

That night she goes back to see Vern.  To be safe, she leaves the gun at home.  Vern pulls his own gun on her, though.  In a scuffle, she ends up killing Vern in this iteration also.  She gets on the elevator and pushes floor 13 rather than 1 as she did before.  Wait a minute, I understand her not wanting to go to 1, fearing she would be shot.  But why go UP to 13?  Then what?  What’s the plan?  Why not just go down to the 2nd floor and take the backstairs?  No good, the cops are miraculously waiting for her on 13 and mow her down.

She wakes up the next morning to a sunny day, birds chirping, and complete lack of being dead.  Both Velma and her boobs are MIA this time.  Rolanda tears up her story and calls in sick.  While she’s on the phone, Vern rings her doorbell.  He came to tell her she’s fired, then pulls a gun on her.  Wait, what?  What is the motivation for that?  Sure, he is under pressure with the deadline, but he was under pressure in the other iterations also.

But he turns the gun on himself and fires.  Again, why?

Like all innocent people on TV, she picks up the weapon just as the cops arrive.  Surprisingly, they do not riddle her with bullets this time.  I assume she got a fair, though incorrectly decided, trial because she is facing a firing squad.  They fill her full of lead and that scene dissolves into the last panel in a new comic strip.

The scene reboots again.  The roles are reversed and she begins speaking Vern’s dialogue from earlier in the show.  There is a new bit about him using her likeness in the comic which does not belong because it introduces a new element.  When she calls Vern into her office to fire him, he says “Oh shit.”  But why?  This is his first iteration.  He doesn’t know what’s coming.

There really is a lot to like in a short episode here, but the story ain’t part of it.  And a tip to aspiring screenwriters, story is kinda important.

First of all, whose story is it?  OK, Rolanda does a bad thing when she kills Vern the first time around.  It’s not like she gets away with it; she is executed.  Is the 2nd go-around a Groundhog Day-esque shot at redemption or her own personal Hell?  In either scenario, why would the roles reverse at the end?  Ya might think, well, karma is going to force her to experience Vern’s death as well as her own — double the torture!  Interesting, but Vern’s “Oh shit” tells us he is now the one aware of the inevitable future.  How did this become his story?

Ya say, he committed suicide, ergo he is going to Hell.  Not so fast, then where is the resolution to Rolanda’s fate?  Did this get her off the hook somehow?  And don’t forget, this episode began in reality, then went into cosmic iterations with magic police and body-switching.  That dimension is where Vern killed himself, not in the real world.

One more puzzler from the reversal scene.  Vern is Rolanda and Rolanda is Vern.  OK, it makes no sense, but here we are.  Then why are the two other prominently featured characters, other TFTC writers, played by different actors, and one is now a woman?  Maybe it is the actress who payed Velma, but that would make no sense because she was a dramatization in the first iteration.  She is blonde, but has glasses, different eyebrows, and a different hairstyle.  If TFTC was trying to be clever by making that Velma, it would take CSI to prove it.  This possibility is also made unlikely by the fact that I have no idea who the new dude is.  He bears no resemblance to Jerry or Roger.

And what is the point?  I’m sure getting killed is no day at the park, but is it really cosmic-level Hell?  Vern takes it in the melon.  Rolanda gets hit by a fusillade of bullets.  Both had to be pretty quick and painless.

The episode is only 20 minutes including credits and the odious Crypt-Keeper.  Maybe they could have ironed these issues out; they had a couple minutes to spare if a scene needed to be expanded or added.  For example, why are the cops magically waiting for Rolanda on the 13th floor?  Ya might say they are the cosmic enforcers; they will appear wherever Rolanda is to mete out her punishment.  True, but they could have made it credible.   For example, what if Rolanda had used my 2nd floor strategy, and the cops were waiting for her?  I would think “good strategy”, they split their team up, expecting such a ruse.  However, I don’t think they had 13 teams in position.

And yet, I liked it.  I stand by my theory that the writers giddily pitched a meta story about deadline pressure because they had to come up with a story quickly after they spent all their time smoking pot and campaigning for Bill Clinton.  But then it came to life when the other creators performed magnificently.

Richard Lewis and Rita Rudner were more known as stand-ups.  In fact, this was Rita’s first TV role.  They both totally nailed it, seeming to understand the show better than most of the producers.  The whole production was beautiful.  The office and workers had a 1950’s vibe, but was populated by dandies and hipster doofuses that I could imagine in the comic book biz.  The suits, suspenders, and fat colorful ties created the perfect atmosphere.  The pacing was brisk and there were a number of wonderfully composed shots.

If the screenplay had made a lick of sense, this could have been a model for what TFTC was supposed to be.  As it is:  Slightly guilty pleasure.  But a pleasure.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] The replacement story is about “a guy who wants to be head of the company, so they cut his head off.”  That’s how bad Rolanda’s story must have been.
  • From the writer of Outer Limits’ Alien Radio a couple days ago.

 

Outer Limits – Donor (01/29/99)

Renee Stuyvescent is womansplaining to the hospital board that we have come far in just a few decades of transplanting hearts.  Now we are ready for the first FBT– Full Body Transplant — “in which we replace an entire disease-riddled body . . . joining the body, from the neck up to the limbs and torso, of a brain-dead donor.”

Joining the body from the neck up?  Ahem, let a man jump in here, sweetheart.  Isn’t this really a head transplant?  I know it sounds less scientific than Full Body Transplant, and frankly a little comical, but let’s be accurate here.   What’s that?  FBT could mean millions in grants, but the government would expect the Discovery Channel to fund Operation Noggin-Swap?  Carry on. [1]

Renee proposes the first person to be FBT’d should be the doctor who invented the procedure, cancer patient Dr. Peter Halstead.  She later tells Peter of her proposal.  He is dubious that there would ever be a body donor having his rare blood-type of AB-Negative with a splash of Worcestershire.  Renee goes in to action, though, she finds the perfect candidate and puts a bullet in his melon.

The next morning, Renee gives Peter the good news about the man’s murder.  She tells him she convinced the Board to allow the operation on him.  Peter tells her she “could sell snowshoes in Australia” which is kinda dumb since it does snow in Australia.  Did we learn nothing from The Man from Snowy River?

He feels guilty taking all the organs that could have helped many different people, but what the hey.  Renee says “it is the best gift anyone could ever get” but what the lovesick Renee really means is that it is the best gift anyone could ever give. Well-played.

The operation is at once, credible and silly.  It would have been a better fit for a good episode of TFTC.  On the other hand, it was graphic and bloody enough make it intriguing.  It is a success, and 32 days later, Peter is in physical therapy pumping iron.  Although since he just got a completely new healthy body, I’m not sure why it is necessary. But then I thought that about my body once upon a time and look what happened.

At 45 days, Renee moves him into her fabulous condo to recover.  Again I’m confused.  He was a doctor, not homeless.  Why can’t he just go home?  He asks, “What do you give someone who saved your life?”  His answer of a kiss on the cheek is clearly disappointing to her.  However, that night Renee in her nightgown, goes to Peter’s room.  This time he tests out his new equipment as they have the sex.

Unfortunately, Peter has begun having flashes of another life.  Anyone who has ever seen an organ transplant on TV knows what this is and knew it was coming.  I really don’t mind some tropes being used over and over; there are only so many stories.  But, please, put some kind of spin on it.  Peter tracks down the wife of the man whose body he received and they fall in love.  Seen it.  In fact, just seen it on The Twilight Zone.

Yes, there is a twist at the end, and it is a good one.  But it only occupies a few seconds.  Surely there was some other direction this could have gone to make a more interesting story.  Was there something unusual about the body that no one but the donor knew?  An alien or espionage implant?  An X-Men-esque superpower?  Had the donor previously had a heart transplant which introduces a third soul into the equation?  Had the donor killed his wife, and now a confused Peter goes after Renee?  Maybe not great, but that’s after 10 seconds of thinking about it by a guy who is, clearly, not a writer.

I’d be satisfied with time travel and body swaps every week.  Just add a little seasoning.  Maybe some Worcestershire.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] This assumes no Senators have a relative on the Hospital Board.
  • Renee was the low-talker who made Jerry Seinfeld wear the Puffy Shirt even though he didn’t want to be a pirate.
  • This is the first time I’ve ever noticed TV surgeons wearing the Victoria’s Secret brand masks — they are shear enough to see the mouth and teeth.  Maybe I’m behind the times on that.  I have never seen House, ER, Chicago Hope, Chicago Med, Grey’s Anatomy or Girls.  I know Girls isn’t a doctor show; I just want to be clear that I’ve never seen it.

Science Fiction Theatre – The Long Day (12/17/55)

At the Pecos Proving Grounds, physicist Robert Barton and Carl Eberhardt are working on Operation Torch.  The goal is to light up the night sky, enabling glaciers to melt and fertile fields to wither even faster they do now.  Dr. Smiley has been dispatched from Washington to observe the test and determine if there is a way to tax the new illumination.

Carl shows Dr. Smiley the rocket which contains a “beautifully simple” method of producing light.  It is actually quite complex, at least in the number of words, but sounds good to someone who knows nothing about science, like me or the SFT producers.

Meanwhile, in the nearby town of Springdale, real estate developer Sam Gilmore is very upset about the latest person to buy in his new development.  He proudly proclaims, “I restricted against everything I could think of!”  Somehow, though, he neglected to restrict against “a convicted criminal — a jailbird!”  I’ll bet he thought the ** ahem** other restrictions would keep out the criminal element.

The resident who sold Matt Brander his house had to know he was a criminal.  His trial was in all the papers back when people read them.  The Trumpian Gilmore wanted this to be “the finest development anywhere, with the finest people.”

Afraid that property values will plummet, he plans to run Brander out of town.  His partners point out that this is illegal.  Mr. Law N. Order now says, “The law has nothing to do with this!  We’ll use my truck and we’ll dump his stuff right out in the desert!”  Self-awareness is not among Laurel Manors’ amenities.

Gilmore picks up a baseball bat and asks his partners how they can care so little about a scumbag living in their community. Then he pulls a nylon stocking over his head and insists they join him in the attack that night when no one can see their identities.  Self-awareness is not among Laurel Manors’ amenities.

His partners agree to help him terrorize Brander into leaving.  Gilmore isn’t sure of their loyalty, though, so demands that they take an oath.  They repeat after Gilmore, swearing their loyalty like a couple of kids, or Masons (Free, not Brick).

The next morning we see Brander — hey, it’s Star Trek’s Dr. McCoy! — and his wife standing amidst the horrific mess, the debris, oh the humanity!  Wait, the Gilmore gang has not attacked yet; it is just moving day mess.  Brander vows to his wife they will not be run out of their new home!

Back at the Pecos Proving Ground, the boys launch their rocket successfully,  However, it doesn’t fall to earth as scheduled.  That night, Springdale is illuminated by a “substitute sun”.  Washington instructs them not to self-destruct the rocket.  It goes on lighting up the sky all night.

Well, old man Gilmore sees this localized phenomenon as a sign.  He tells his posse, “Last night we were going to pull a dirty trick.  But it didn’t get dark, you see!  It didn’t get dark!”  He sees this as an opportunity to do the right thing.  He calls off the attack.  Maybe he’ll also get out of the real estate developer business and shave off that pencil-thin mustache.  He leads his bois in a new more inclusive oath.  Coincidentally, the rocket burns out at just that moment, plunging Springdale into normal nighttime darkness.

The episode was nothing special, although I did like how they tied the stories together.  But it was worth it just to hear Pencil Thin Mustache again.

Other Stuff:

  • Yesterday’s AHP about a guy who couldn’t go to sleep starred the same guy who was in a TZ episode about a guy afraid to go to sleep.  Today’s SFT is about an unnaturally lengthy day; there was a TZ about an unnaturally lengthy night.  I got nothing for this.