Category Archives: TV

Outer Limits – Fear Itself (04/10/98)

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Bernard Seldon has crippling fears and anxiety.  He is also haunted by visions of fires and demons.  Father Wilkes from his old orphanage even returns in his dreams to taunt him and peek at his Underoos.

The next morning, Bernard leaves his apartment and his mind reels at the sights and sounds.  He is terrified at the open space, the strangers, vehicles zooming past, the honking, the loud noises — wait, are they saying this isn’t a normal reaction?  After imagining Wilkes pursuing him down the street, Bernard seeks the clean, peaceful refuge of a city bus, which tells you how scary Father Wilkes must be.

Dr. Pike of the Osgood Psychiatric Clinic tells us that Bernard “suffered a trauma at age 6 from which he never recovered.  In the midst of a raging tantrum, he started a fire in his orphanage which resulted in the death of his 4 year old sister.”  Pike has never seen a patient so crippled by his phobias.  Like all Outer Limits doctors, Pike has a theory.

They strap the terrified Bernard into a chair to perform the first procedure.  For some reason, Pike seems to think that after the quivering Bernard is strapped in, that is a good time to give his students a basic lecture on the amygdala.

Afterward, as Bernard walks home, he is confronted by some neighborhood bullies.  Mind you, these bullies are in their 30’s, so assholes is probably a better word for them.  And, frankly, after just seeing the worthless trash in Tough Guys Don’t Whine yesterday, I’m ready for Bernard to skip ahead to the inevitable scene where he massacres them.  Unfortunately, this is a 60 minute show so we first get a scene where the big tuff men steal his wallet, and send him running in fear as they laugh at him.  Making them even more manlier is the fact that Bernard is so debilitated that he might as well be mentally challenged.  I’m sure their mothers — who they probably still live with — are proud.

When he gets back to his building, his new neighbor Lisa says she baked a butt-load of lasagna, but he seems oblivious to the fact that she is inviting him to join her.  She is undeterred and shows up at his door the next morning to see if he would like to take a walk in the park.  He says yes, but comically closes the door in her face to finish his coffee.  He plays this very Rain-manesque.  It is not clear whether she is pursuing him because she thinks he is special or because she thinks he is “special.”

They take their walk in the park.  The bullies confront Bernard again, but we just get another scene of him being pushed around.  This show is only 60 minutes, right?  This isn’t a two-parter?  At least we make a little progress — there is a vein pulsating in his forehead.  I expect some whoop-ass next time.

Lisa takes Bernard up to the roof of their building and shows him her pigeons.  Sadly, that is not a euphemism.  The treatments are starting to have an effect.  Not only is Bernard no longer afraid of being on the roof, he is dancing around the parapet.  Doctor Pike is happy with the progress, but wants to slow down the treatments.  Bernard disagrees and his forehead starts pulsating again.  He is able to project into Pike’s mind the same kind of horrific hallucinations that he had been living with.

Bernard continues to become more confident.  He rescues a kid in a well — wait, what?  That was so 1980s!  Then the middle-age gang confronts him again.  The leader slams Bernard against a wall and punches him in the gut.  Oh boy, this is going to be great!  Bernard grabs the guy by the throat and . . . that’s pretty much it.  He let’s him go and the gang runs away.  WTF, is this a mini-series?  Let’s get to the good part!

After Lisa says she is falling in love with Bernard, the head thug breaks into her apartment.  Bernard hears this and chokes the guy again.  OK, he does transmit to the idiot images of the guy’s worst fear — in this case, being buried alive. [1]  Kind of out of left field, but it is high on my list too, so it was effective for me.  But still, he lets the guy get away.

There is a revelation about how the fire started.  There is also a fairly pointless case of mistaken identity. The good news is that Bernard finally goes full Charlie McGee on somebody in a pretty disturbing scene.  I’m just sorry it wasn’t the bullies.

Arye Gross was amazing as Bernard.  Was his performance realistic, or was it over the top?  Having never seen a person with this affliction, I couldn’t say, but he did make it effective.  My only quibble is that I felt like the character was blurred between having crushing anxiety and actually being mentally challenged in the usual sense.

Tanya Allen (Lisa) struck me as authentic as a woman who had had some mental issues herself, and had been hurt in a relationship.  Although I wasn’t clear on the motivation, I could imagine her becoming friends with Bernard.  Sometimes her delivery reminded me of Shelley Duvall in The Shining, which ain’t good.  But then, she was supposed to be a little “damaged” so maybe that was intentional.  It worked for me.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Coincidentally, being buried alive also played a part in a pretty good movie I just saw on NetFlix — an Argentinean joint called Ataud Blanco (White Coffin).
  • Maybe I should get out on the roof and see some pigeons more often too.

The Hitchhiker – Tough Guys Don’t Whine (09/28/90)

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I always respected the late Alan Thicke for being such a multi-talented guy.  He wrote insipid TV theme songs (Diff’rent Strokes, Facts of Life), starred in a long-running insipid sitcom (Growing Pains), hosted an insipid talk show (Thicke of the Night), and had writing credits on many shows of varying quality. [1]

A reporterette says to film producer Mickey Black (Alan Thicke), “Your films create heroes we don’t always feel comfortable siding with, but you seem to.  Tell me Mr. Black, [2] is it social consciousness or is it middle age machismo?” [3] He replies, “Skip the feminist rhetoric.  My pictures are about survivors.  They may not be heroes to you — ”

She cuts him off to complain about the violence in his movies, but a gun-fight breaks out nearby.  They take cover and Mickey pills out a pistol to protect them.  “Where’s your rhetoric now?” he quips.  Within seconds, it is all over.  One of the gunman comes over immediately to high-five Mickey for their great ruse on the reporter.  The scene is over so quickly, and the actress so impassive that it is an utter waste of time.  Was she panicked at the gunfire?  Did she fear for her life?  Was she appalled that Mickey carried a concealed weapon?  Was she conflicted that his weapon might now be the only means to save her life?  Did she have an epiphany about the 2nd Amendment?  Did she forget to turn off the iron this morning?  We’ll never know because of the way they raced through the scene.  She does call him a jerk though.

Mickey heads to a dive bar to scout a location for his next movie.  I’ll give him credit for guts.  The bar is filled with typical Hollywood 1980s drug-dealers — studded denim jackets, mullets, permanents, sleeveless shirts, fingerless gloves — and a stripper who is covered up with more clothes than I wear to work.  Mickey tries to recruit the gangstas, but they take off after another low-life.  Mickey sees potential in the stripper, though.  He unwisely makes sure gang-leader James knows he is taking the girl, Penny, back to his place.

Update: Not Milo.

Back at his place, Mickey gives her a tour of his home, and takes a bottle of champagne out of the refrigerator before offering to drive her home.

James and his gang walk up to Mickey’s front door, switchblades drawn.  Fortuitously, the front door is unlocked so they can walk right in.  When James takes one step in, Mickey puts his pistol to James’ head like he was waiting in the dark by the door rather than getting Penny drunk in the kitchen.  In an amazing, barely revealed move, Mickey is able to at-once shut the door on the rest of the gang, push James against the wall, and put the gun to his head.  Also unseen, I guess during this Bruce Lee caliber balletic swirl, he was able to lock the door so the rest of the gang couldn’t enter and kick his ass.

Penny sides with Mickey because she thinks he is going to make her a star.  So we can rule her out as the brains of the gang.  Mickey forces James to his knees at gunpoint.  After telling James — correctly, by the way — what an idiot he is, Mickey pulls the trigger.  The gun just makes a click.

OK, once again, this series seems so unbelievably awful that I have to question my own intelligence.  I have replayed this scene a dozen times — there IS an audible click like an empty chamber being fired.  What is that click?

  1. After the sound, the hammer is still in the cocked position.
  2. The hammer was already in the cocked position, so the sound was not Mickey pulling it back.
  3. Hearing the click, James flinched, so something happened, but what?
  4. James heard a click, flinched, then realized he was not dead.  Why then did he remain kneeling on the floor, and leave peacefully when Mickey ordered him to? Rather than, oh say, beating him to death?
  5. And what happened to his pals?  Surely I am missing something.

In the next scene, Penny is enjoying a bubble-bath.  Really, the only reason for this piece of sh*t to exist is to have a nude scene here.  But no.  Mickey not only awkwardly shields her with a yellow towel the size of a bed sheet as she gets out of the tub; he stops her when she tries to let it slide down.  For some reason, Mickey decides to dress her up in a costume which appears to just be a red sheet.  Looking in a mirror, she says, “I always thought I looked like an Egyptian princess.”  And with her blue eyes and blonde hair, she does look like the Hollywood version of an Egyptian princess.

Mickey has a blue sheet conveniently hanging on the mirror which he drapes over the red drapes already draped over her.  That Mickey is really taking no chances.  They do finally end up in bed.  The next morning he is wrapped in the red sheet and she is wrapped in the yellow sheet.

Mickey and Penny are awakened by Milo Yiannopoulos bashing in a glass door — am I dreaming this?  James instantly appears in Mickey’s bedroom.  Wait, so did he come in a different way?  He points Mickey’s own pistol at him.  There is another of those mysterious clicks, then James tosses that pistol aside and pulls out another pistol.  I don’t know, I guess the first pistol was supposed to create suspense.  Did Mickey recognize his pistol?  Then he knew it was not loaded.  Or is he thinking James, after returning some books to the library that morning, bought ammo, broke into the house, found Mickey’s gun, then loaded it?

James points the second pistol at the couple who are still in bed.  He says, “It must have been a hell of a party.”  Hunh?  I guess he means them having the sex, but what prompted the remark?  The bedroom is not in disarray, there are not bongs and whiskey bottles strewn about, there is not a pile of condom wrappers beside the bed, it is only the two of them in bed.  I guess it is the fabulously festive multi-colored linens.

Milo continues breaking every piece of glass in sight like a peaceful Antifa protester.  James marches Mickey and Penny downstairs at gunpoint.  Milo points a shotgun at Mickey’s head and pulls the trigger.  The chambers are empty — the third time that trope has been used in 15 minutes.

Credit where it is due, though.  This gang — James, Milo, Permanent, and Mullet — are cringingly repulsive human beings.  On top of that, the mindless destruction and the frequent sound of glass breaking create a literal physical reaction in the viewer.

Adding to this revulsion, Mullett holds a sandwich up to Mickey’s face and insists that he “Try some!”  When Mickey opts to stay on Atkins, Mullett mushes the sandwich onto his face, leaving his mug covered with mayo and sandwich debris.  It might not sound like much, but how often do you see a famous actor willing to display humiliation like that on screen?  Then Mullet forces him to take a swig of wine, probably a domestic — oh the humanity!  This is an uncomfortable — in the best sense  — scene.

Thicke is pretty good here.  He tells James there is $50,000 in the end table, to just take it and go.  James says, “Big man — thinks I want his money, thinks I’m after his things.”  He pulls out a knife and continues, “I’m here for your heart!”  He rushes Mickey, but Mickey karate chops him, steals the gun out of his waist, and pushes him back.  Mickey tells him to take his “street-meat” girl and get out.

Penny somehow takes offense at this.  She grabs James’ knife and rushes Mickey.  Mickey could handle the big thug, but little Penny manages to knock the gun out of his hand.  He takes the knife from her and holds it to her throat as James now goes for the gun on the floor.  James backs away from the gun.  Mickey cuts Penny’s cheek which somehow kills her.

Despite Mickey holding a gun on the gang, James is able to knock him down and start pounding his face.  Permanent pulls out a gun.  He points it first at Mickey’s head, thennnnn at James’ head.  At least he doesn’t pull the no-bullets gag again.  Then he pulls out a badge — he is the worst undercover cop since Mr. Orange.

Yeah, I didn’t see that coming, but WTF would I?  If they had sprouted wings and flown off to Capistrano, I wouldn’t have seen that coming either.

This is the third to last episode on the last DVD.  However, the 3 DVD sets only contain 30 of the 85 episodes.  Were they chosen at random?  Could the other 55 really be even worse than the ones in the collection?

I must say Alan Thicke does as good a job as he possibly could.  The problem is that he is Alan Thicke.  I respect his effort to expand his range, but there is just an inherent non-edginess to him that undermines an effort like this.  Just nothing to see here, move along.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Although, to be fair, one / two of them was / were Fernwood 2-Night / America 2-Night which earns him a lifetime pass from me.  Unfortunately, his lifetime, not mine.
  • [2] This is kind of stilted only-on-TV dialogue that bugs me.  I can’t recall any reporter ever directly addressing a subject in a question as Mr. or Ms.  OK, they might address the president as Mr. President, or say Your Holiness to the Pope or Barrack Obama.
  • [3] Ignoring the dreadful construction of her first question, how is this the choice we are given?  Social consciousness is generally regarded as diametrically opposed to machismo.  Surely he has a reputation as one or the other.  Oh, The Htchhiker is the writer’s only TV writing credit.
  • Title Analysis:  I guess it is a reference to Tough Guys Don’t Dance, but to what end?  They might as well have called it Catch-24 or To Kill a Mockingjay.  Who was whining?  Not the gang.  Mickey was actually pretty ballsy for a Hollywood crap-weasel.   Or maybe Mickey was a tough guy because he didn’t whine.  No idea.
  • This might be my longest post ever.  All I’m trying to say is, that new Death Wish remake looks awful.

Alfred Hitchcock Presents – Graduating Class (12/27/59)

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Miss Siddons arrives at Briarstone Women’s College to accept a job offer from her old pal who is now the principal.  After a meet and greet with her friend and the vice-principal, she heads to her first class, European Literature.  The VP expresses doubt, but the P says Miss Siddons has had a tough life.  She lost her mother and father when she was in college.  Then she went to Germany to visit her uncle.  Darn the luck, the war started and she was stuck there for the duration.

When Miss Siddons enters her classroom, the well-groomed, neatly-dressed students turn to face the front, stop yakking, and give Miss Siddons their full attention.  Wait, is this AHP or TZ?  Well, it is AHP’s last episode of the 1950’s. Buckle up Al, it’s going to be a bumpy ride. [1]

Miss Siddons gets right to business as if these students were there to learn.  She humorlessly says, “You will find that I insist on punctuality and on attention.  You will also find that at the end of the semester you will have learned European Literature.”

After class, Miss Siddons is standing at the bus stop looking like Mary Poppins with her flat pork pie hat and valise.  A carload of girls pulls up in Gloria’s car and offers her a ride, which she surprisingly accepts.  She says she was under the impression that the students were not allowed to drive cars to school.  Vera says Gloria is PC.  Wait, what?  Gloria explains that means Privileged Character.  Privileged, really?  These girls women were really ahead of their time.  I eagerly await the scene where they pull down the statue of Jedediah Briarstone.

Another girl explains that Gloria’s family is still at their summer place.  So I guess she really is privileged.  Until they come back to town, she is allowed to drive the car to school.  They offer to take her to the malt shop, but she declines.

She asks to be dropped off at her apartment at the Clifton Arms.  As she is searching for her key, her tubby neighbor across the hall introduces himself as Ben Prowdy.  He invites her to the local bar — she says she doesn’t drink.  He suggests a movie — she says she expects to be busy for several weeks.  Wow, I didn’t get this much deja vu from yesterday’s Curious Case of Edgar Witherspoon.

The next day in class, Miss Siddons lectures, “It is not generally known that the author of the classic European horror story Frankenshtein was the wife of the English poet Shelley.”  C’mon, you lived in Germany for years and you say Frankenshtein?  She writes the name on the chalkboard.  Sadly, before I can see if she spells it with an H, Vera sneaks in late.

Miss Siddons admonishes her for this third violation.  To put her on the spot, Miss Siddons asks Vera if she knows who Prometheus was.  Vera says, “Isn’t it one of those funny little things we studied in Zoology?” which got a laugh out of me.  The stern Miss Siddons tells her, “The ancient Greeks regarded Prometheus as the creator of the human race.”  Vera replies, “I don’t see why we have to waste our time on a lot of people who’ve been dead for hundreds and hundreds of years!”  Rather than cowering, apologizing, asking Vera’s permission to go to the restroom, and ultimately resigning, the teacher calmly explains to the immature student that she has just demonstrated why she desperately needs to be educated.  Well, bravo Miss Siddons, but that’s no way to ever be promoted to Administration.

Gloria catches Miss Siddons in the hall after class.  Apparently, the lecture continued on to cover Shelley’s The Last Man.  Gloria was hoping Miss Siddons had a copy she could borrow. Miss Siddons tells Gloria what a great student she is, and Gloria invites her home to have tea with her mother.  While there, Miss Siddons sees Gloria’s mother is sickly and learns that her father is in Iraq — their summer place in Iraq, I guess.  Although I would picture that as more a winter getaway.

Miss Siddons doesn’t have the book Gloria asked about, but cares enough about her to check out an antique bookstore — the book is the antique, not the bookstore . . . the bookstore won’t last long enough to become an antique.  Ben Prowdy happens by and hits on her again.  She says maybe some other night.  We can tell by her rare smile that she actually means it.  She is startled to see, across the street, Gloria going into an establishment called 7th Heaven with a man.  She tries to follow, but the doorman says, “No ladies allowed without escorts.  You wouldn’t want the club to get a bad name, now would you, lady?”  I think this place will have a shorter life-span than the bookstore.

The next day, Gloria dozes off in class.  After class, Miss Siddons asks her to stay.  Gloria lies and says she was up late taking care of her mother.  That night, Miss Siddons goes to a movie with Ben.  Robert H. Harris is a little bit of a mystery to me.  He is 50ish, short, balding, and shaped like a fat potato.  Yet on AHP, he seems to be quite a success with the ladies in more than one episode.  He is kind of shaped like Hitchcock — maybe it was some kind of wish-fulfillment on Hitch’s part.

After the movie, she and Ben again walk down the only street in the city.  She sees Gloria wearing a fur coat, coming out of 7th Heaven with a man and they start swapping spit.  She explains to Ben why this is so upsetting to her.  They follow the couple to an apartment building where they see them as silhouettes in the window until the light goes out.

Seeing Miss Siddons is upset, Ben says, “Let me take you home.  Young people have different ideas about things today.  What was wrong when we were young — .”  Miss Siddons cuts him off, ” — is still wrong!”  Well, there’s the cost of two movie tickets shot to hell.  Miss Siddons enters the building to slide a note under the door.

The next morning, Gloria comes to Miss Siddons’ apartment, furious at being tracked.  When Miss Siddons explains that she was just trying to protect her, she explains that she is secretly married and the man is her husband. She was afraid the shock would kill her mother, so she was waiting for her father to get back from Iraq where he become used to both shock and awe.

The next day, Gloria is absent from class.  She left a letter that the other girls have already read.  There is a twist, but I’ll stop here.  Not to avoid a spoiler, but because the episode is wearing me out.  It is a little bit of a slog, and I’m not sure why.  Yeah, Miss Siddon is a very proper, stoic woman, but she is a believable character.  Prowdy and Gloria both provide some energy and humor.  It just feels like it is 2 hours long.

Back in November.  Or December, but I really prefer the 30-day months.  January.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Yeah, yeah — the quote is wrong in 3 different ways.
  • AHP Deathwatch:  Julie Payne and Gigi Perreau have not graduated yet.
  • Marlon Brando’s sister Jocelyn makes her 2nd AHP appearance, and she is even more poorly utilized here.  AHP has one more chance to do right by her.

Twilight Zone – The Curious Case of Edgar Witherspoon (09/24/88)

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The curious case I got was a curious case of deja vu back to the Patterns episode of Night Visions.  In that post, I had a paragraph stating how each step of the plot was evident from the start:

Of course Martin’s OCD tics are going to be the glue that keeps the world together.  Of course Critchley is going to be skeptical.  Of course Martin is going to be found to be telling the truth.  And of course Critchley will inherit the burden that he was skeptical of.

Change the names, and this is exactly the same story.  That is not necessarily a bad thing.  I guess it is a broad enough trope, like time-travel, that no one can claim to own it.  And I am a sucker for this particular trope, so case dismissed.  I give it a Trumpian pardon — maybe not deserved, but who’s going to stop me?

I deleted about 500 words above that just seemed superfluous; although beautifully composed.  Harry Morgan played Edgar Witherspoon perfectly.  As a young man — or at least as young as Harry Morgan ever was — he was a bit of a stiff.  The laughs he got back then seemed to be from hamming it up or due to funny words coming out of his Dragnet facade.  In this episode, he seems to have arrived at peak coot-hood.  He is a fun old guy, believably sincere with his krazee ideas.  Unfortunately — and I’m going to use that word a lot — the psychiatrist seems to be in a different episode, and the rest of the cast are just non-entities.[1]

Unfortunately # 2:  This is the first episode of the 3rd season (although the 4th episode on the DVD?) and the first appearance of Robin Ward as the announcer.  I was often critical of Charles Aidman’s avuncular voice undermining many episodes, so a change was welcome.  I’m not sure this is an improvement, though.  From one outing, he strikes me as if he is trying to emulate both Aidman and Rod Serling.  I hear shades of them both in his delivery.

Unfortunately # 3:  The score, as is frequently the case, is just entirely inappropriate.  Harry Morgan was fine being eccentric, but I would rather have had the score show a little more seriousness.  These scores too often cheapen the stakes with musical flourishes and little pixie dust sounds.  The psychiatrist’s performance was grimly at odds with the rest of the episode, but maybe he was closest to getting it right.  The island of Tuatau was destroyed by a tidal wave for cryin’ out loud!  Do you have no feelings atoll — heyooooo! [1]

And yet, for all the belly-aching, I really enjoyed it.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] This is not so funny after the events of Barbuda.  Or before.
  • Yikes, what a dreadful pedigree:  The psychiatrist was on an episode of Ray Bradbury Theater, his secretary was also in a RBT, Edgar’s niece was in the dreadful Poltergeist remake, and the new announcer was in a Hitchhiker.

Tales of Tomorrow – The Horn (10/10/52)

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Shop Foreman Jake Lippitt wants to fire Max Martinson.  He arrived 6 months ago with big plans for new musical instruments, but has produced nothing.  Company President Heinkle wonders if Lippitt is afraid his daughter Evelyn might become interested in Martinson.

Heinkle calls Martinson into the office.  He says he needs only another 2 months to finish his new instrument.  It uses a new principle in the transmission of high frequency sound waves.  He says if it is properly used, “it will do more to heal the world’s wounds than any corp of diplomats.  Improperly used, it will be more destructive than the H-Bomb.” As I get older, I’m starting to wonder if he doesn’t have that backwards.

When Lippitt claims that 2 violins Martinson built were returned as defective (i.e. did not sound like cats f***ing), Evelyn leaps to his defense.  Further, she says her engagement to Lippitt is off.  Later she joins Martinson in the workshop.  She says Lippitt became bitter after he couldn’t hack it as a concert pianist.  She was just looking for an excuse to end the engagement.

Exactly 2 months later, Martinson brings in his new horn to demonstrate to Heinkle.  He blows the horn, but there is no sound. A few seconds later, however, there is a musical riff.  Whether it is a delayed reaction from the horn, or part of the score, I don’t know.  Old Mr. Heinkle gets up and says, “That’s funny, all of the sudden I feel excited!  I feel exhilarated and I don’t know why!  A moment ago I was dog tired!”

Evelyn eggs him on to blow the horn again.  Heinkle gets angry, “Stop it, stop it!  Put that horn down!”  Martinson explains that the horn communicates emotion, any kind, “whatever emotion the player is feeling.”  So Martinson was really bi-polar in the last 30 seconds.  Or blowing hot and cold, as they say.

I guess the musical cue was the score because Martinson explains the sound is ultra-sonic like dog whistles which can only be heard by dogs and MSNBC hosts.  Heinkle has a great idea.  He asks Evelyn to call in Lippitt which seems like a great idea if they can condition him from being such a dick.  Bizarrely, however, Martinson decides to instill the emotion [sic] of acrophobia in him.  Even more bizarrely, Heinkle goes along with this.

Lippitt comes in and sits down.  Hidden on the 6th floor balcony of Heinkle’s office — apparently the violin business used to be YUGE! — Martinson begins blowing his horn.  Lippitt gets very tense and anxious.  He croaks out, “I’m falling, I’m falling.”  Then he falls — sadly, to the floor, not the pavement 60 feet below.

Some time later, Evelyn and Martinson have gotten engaged.  There is a banquet that night to celebrate Martinson’s invention and the fact that he is donating it to a committee of scientists.  He believes physicists will research the nature of sound, doctors will research emotional disorders, military men will control the morale of thousands of troops.  His only stipulation is for it to be used for the benefit of all mankind.  More likely, the main tunes it will play will be “Must Buy Coke” and “Vote for ______ [insert corrupt politician name here]”

Martinson goes to the shop to get the horn and finds that Lippitt has broken into his locker and taken it.  Lippitt suggests that 2 enterprising men like them could make a fortune with it even if one of them was a parasitic jerk.  When Martinson disagrees, Lippitt brains him with a 4 X 4 and steals the horn.

He runs back into  Heinkle’s office since this factory only has 2 rooms.  Like all businessmen, Heinkle keeps a gun in the office.  He pulls it on Lippitt, but the punk knows the old man won’t shoot him as he descends on the fire escape — he might drop the horn and destroy it.

Lippitt looks over the balcony and says, “Look down there.  Thousands of people, all ready to be led.  And, believe me, I’m going to lead them.  Whether there’s one man or an army of men, with this, I can do anything I want!”  Except play the piano.

Martinson regains consciousness and comes in to see Lippitt holding the horn.  He threatens to drop it if Martinson comes any closer.  He blows the horn, transmitting the thought that Heinkle should shoot Martinson.  Martinson implores the old man to wake up from the trance.  For some bogus reason, Heinkle turns and approaches Lippitt standing on the parapet.  This is all is takes for Lippitt to fall backward to his death.

Evelyn assures him he can make another horn, and much more quickly this time.  Martinson thinks not, people just aren’t ready for it.  Kudos to them on one point:  Usually when a sci-fi prototype is destroyed, an invention is strangely unable to be duplicated.

A very simple premise, but the episode is not as egregious as most.

Other Stuff:

  • Franchot Tone (Martinson) was really the only one to give a solid performance here.  He would later be in a classic episode of The Twilight Zone.