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

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)

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?

Alfred Hitchcock Presents – The Kiss-Off (03/07/61)

Act One

Scruffy Ernie Walters shuffles into the Department of State Revenue office. [1]  He worries that he might have shuffled into tomorrow’s Science Fiction Theatre when he sees a city employee working through lunch.

The clerk worries when Ernie pulls out a pistol.   He orders the clerk to clean out the cash drawer and the safe.  Sadly, unlike my favorite YouTube videos, the clerk does not take the gun from him and whip his ass.  Ernie takes the bag of cash and leaves peacefully.  He does not seem to be a professional since he does not have the classic round bag with a dollar sign on it, and also he drops a hotel key by the door.

He takes a cab and gives the driver a $10 spot for a $.90 fare.  Gee, that’s the kind of thing a cabbie might remember!  He goes to see his gal Florrie.  She does not recognize him until he removes his false teeth and facial appliances.  As he changes clothes, he says he was just released from prison today after serving 6 years for a robbery another man just confessed to. Only on 1960’s TV would this jailbird be more interested in putting on a man’s suit than taking off a woman’s clothes.

Ernie tells Florrie that they are going to Palma del Rio.  He will be joining her a week later, though.  He wants time to get even with Detective Cooper and the DA who put him away for the crime he didn’t commit.

Meanwhile, Cooper is elated that the Hotel Room matching that key has been found and the register was signed by Ernie Walters.  He goes to the room, kicks in the door and roughs Ernie up without a warrant.  Cooper taunts him about dropping the key.  However, Ernie shows him that he still has his key.  The manager confirms that he did not give out any duplicates.  Not only that, the manger vouches for Ernie’s honesty because no kale or Lucky Strikes are missing from the mini-bar (the mini-bar concept didn’t really take off until 1963 when Joe Snickers Jr. convinced his father that their product could also be enjoyed orally).

However, Ernie admits he has no alibi for the time of the robbery, so they still take him downtown.  The city worker, the cab driver, a biker, and an Indian chief are brought in to pick him out of a line-up.  They all pick Ernie out initially, but upon closer questioning, they aren’t so sure.  Finally, they refuse to identify him, but do helpfully suggest accommodations cheaper than the hotel.

Early heterosexual prototype of The Village People.

Cooper still wants to charge him, but the DA refuses.  The DA wants to cut a deal, but Ernie refuses.   The DA starts to wise up and realizes that Ernie is doing this to get back at them for the earlier false conviction.  Ernie mocks them for their lack of evidence and lack of reliable witnesses.  He dares them to go into court, especially since he will tell the jury about how these same 2 guys bungled his earlier case.  The DA tells him to get out of town and Ernie, with a smirk, says he can afford to.

Act Two

Uh, it must be here somewhere.  I feel like flipping the script over — like when you’re looking for cash in an empty birthday card, or looking for the continuation of the English instructions for setting up a new TV. [2]  But there is nothing.  That was it.

The concept is actually fine and self-contained, but it still feels unfinished.  Maybe because there were no real stakes for Cooper and the DA.  Sure, Ernie is getting away with $12,000 and taking Delores del Rio to Florida, but how are the lawmen suffering?  They have an unsolved case, but it’s not like the city will make them repay the loss.  And, yes, they are steamed at being hustled by Ernie.  But, they are unrepentant about the 6 years Ernie served, so I think they’ll get over this pretty quickly.

Two things to keep you entertained during this episode:  1) Try to make young Rip Torn look like old Rip Torn.  I just couldn’t do it; not even when he took off the disguise.  2)  Try not to picture the clerk’s head on a Jack-in-the Box.  I couldn’t do that either, but at least it got me to rewatch that great TZ episode on Netflix.

Verdict:  Some good stuff.  It was especially good at showing the evolution of the witnesses and Ernie nailing the ruse.  Good enough for me to get out the DVDs so I can get pictures that are not stretched out with a Book Television watermark?  Naaaaaaah.

Other Stuff

  • [1]  It is hardly worth noting (which describes this entire post), but the papers on the wall behind Ernie are beautiful.  Not only are they perfectly spaced, they are full of different texts and charts.  Kudos for this extra effort before the invention of Word, Excel, HDTV, and Red Bull.
  • [2]  I literally unplugged my TV when Lost went off the air.  After 11 years, I finally got a new one.  Can I just get a simple f***ing diagram of the cable layout?  Is the DVD Player before the cable box or just plugged directly to the TV?  But thanks for wasting ink covering the Angle button on the DVD Remote that I have not seen used once in my 500 DVDs.
  • BTW, the novelty of a giant TV lasted about an hour.  Most of the current programing is shit.  For the last 10 years I have watched movies on a laptop sitting on my chest.  When the screen is 6 inches from your eyes, every movie is IMAX!

One Step Beyond – The Burning Girl (05/05/59)

So last week, I finally figured out the key to appreciating Tales of the Unexpected was to lower my expectations.  It also works for Ray Bradbury Theatre and, my parents cryptically tell me, other things.  Maybe the key to appreciating One Step Beyond is to look forward to whatever spectacle they have planned for the week.  From the Titanic to bombed out Europe to the Big Top, OSB has made the most of great locations and stock footage.

Unless the two guys on the truck are Moe and Larry, I have no idea what is going on here. This guy jumped off the truck, looped the hose around the hydrant, and the truck is continuing on. Sadly the shot was cut before hilarity ensued.

Host John Newland tells us “Last year American Fire Insurance Companies paid out a good many thousands of dollars for damages from fires they found difficult to explain.”  However, he then opts to tell us about such a fire from 1921.  It must have been one of those underground coal fires that burn forever because the video shows vehicles clearly from decades later.  Hey, here’s this week’s swell stock footage!  And I’m not being sarcastic — we get some great footage of firemen rolling up and fighting a blaze.

Extras in laughably anachronistic clothes flee from Purdy’s Pharmacy like they just found out the Coke no longer contains cocaine.  Purdy tells Fire Chief Keating that the fire started from nowhere.  He calls over local high school doofus Tim Plunkett to confirm his story.  Tim says he was nowhere near the barrel that caught fire, but he rats out Patty and Alice.  Purdy vouches for Patty, but Alice is new in town.  Like all pretty young blondes with a snappy bod, she is ostracized by the kids at school.  If she wore glasses, they’d stone her.

Back at home, Alice learns that Patty’s father is her father’s boss at his new job “putting shingles on his barn.  If he likes me, he might keep me on.”  This is a little jarring since that is pretty manly, blue-collar work for a guy at home reading the newspaper in suspenders and a necktie.” [1]  Also jarring because it is The Chief from Get Smart.

Alice clearly loves her father, but he does tell her not to “ruin things” again this time.  Worse is her nasty Aunt Mildred who lives with him.  She is a bitter old crone who resents Alice’s youth and beauty.  Before dinner, Will gets a visit from the Fire Chief.  He is speaking to everyone who was at Purdy’s.  Will angrily accuses Alice of starting the fire.  They have had to move 3 times because of her shenanigans.

The next night, Alice culturally appropriates as a gypsy for a Halloween party.  Aunt Mildred catches her on the way out and berates her for dressing like a gypsy, a tramp, a thief.  Mildred really goes nuts on her like Margaret White on Carrie’s prom night.  Mildred gives her a nasty slap and Alice runs from the house like she just stole a chicken. [2]

Sadly, she takes a shortcut through the woods that goes past the ol’ Plunkett shack.  Tim grabs her and drags her inside.  Within seconds, we hear her screams and fire shoots out of the window.  Alice runs out in tears.  Tim stumbles out with burnt arms and — presumably — massively swollen bruised balls.

Will arrives home after work, again dressed in a three piece suit.  This guy is the Oliver Wendell Douglas of roofers except he doesn’t have a wife who takes showers outdoors behind the house.  The Fire Chief is already there questioning Mildred.  A  farmer found Alice hiding in his barn and took her home.

Alice is thrashing around deliriously in bed.  She is yelling at Mildred for talking bad about her deceased mother.  As she gets angrier, smoke starts to rise from the bed.  Finally, in an impressive effect, the bed bursts into flames while Alice screams at Mildred, “You made this happen!”

Will says in disbelief, “It started all by itself!  I saw it!”  Mildred says, “Not by itself.  There’s a devil in her!  She’s a witch!”  Sadly it ends there without us seeing Will boot Mildred out of the house.

It is nice to see OSB expand its niche a little.  There were several nice touches here that could have been even better in a one hour format.  Or 98 minutes.  Or directed by Brian De Palma.  Still, the fresh idea and great effects make this a fine episode.

Other Stuff:

  • [1]  Maybe that is just another sign of the frequent theme here — the degradation of society.  In the 1960’s, white-collar worker Ward Cleaver lounged around in a suit and tie.  In the 1920’s, blue-collar workers lounged around in a suit and tie.  In the 19th century, well, the guy in the white suit and ribbon tie lounged around while . . . er . . . other people did the work.
  • [2] Sadly, unlike in Carrie, we got no discussion of her Dirty Pillows.  Or more appropriately, given the crazy accusations by Mildred, her Dirty My Pillows.
  • Olive Deering (Mildred) went on to play Moses’ sister in The Ten Commandments.

Including this seemed like a good idea, but WOW is this not as good as I remembered:

Tales of the Unexpected – Neck (04/28/79)

I’m starting to get a Ray Bradbury Theater vibe from this series, and that ain’t good.  Every episode of both serieseses was based on a short story by their respective author.  However, I think I was unfairly harsh on RBT because I expected every episode to have a fantastic premise or Twilight Zonish twist.  I should have considered that some of Ray’s stories were published in straight magazines like the Saturday Evening Post.  The only time he actually slipped a script onto The Twilight Zone, Rod Serling was out sick with an impacted Chesterfield. [1]  The good news is that it has changed my expectations for this series.

This is the day of Natalia Turton’s big party.  Her husband Basil has brought home a big hunk of wood which I guess is some sort of Modern Art.  Although the “Modern Art” movement has been around so long now, maybe it should be called by its simpler, non-temporal name, “Shit.”

Basil has invited John Bannister, an art historian from Sotheby’s for the weekend.  Bannister stops his car some distance away to observe the objet d’art being placed in the estate’s garden.[2]  Oddly, he opts to hop a fence and run the rest of the way to the house rather than take his car.

The gang assembles in the house where we meet Jelks the Butler, Major Haddock and Carmen La Rosa.  Natalia takes an immediate liking to Bannister.  She flirts with him and berates her older husband, so it is clear she is going to pay a visit to Bannister that night.  Carmen is not interested in sexing him because tonight she has a Haddock — heyyyooo!!!

Natalia orders Jelks to take Bannister upstairs to his room to dress for dinner.  It is nice seeing Tales of the Unexpected inject some humor into another episode.  Jelks advises Bannister to “Beware the flush, sir.  It’s quite powerful.”  He has several other droll lines before he finally advises Bannister, “At dinner, Her Ladyship’s right foot doesn’t always seem to know what her left foot is doing.”  Great stuff.

Sure enough, at dinner, Natalia begins playing footsie with Bannister.  During dinner and a game of Bridge, she continues to mock her husband, saying he is not the man his father was, and such.  Jelks continues his wry bon mots.

That night, Natalia visits Bannister’s room.  She turns off the light and really puts the moves on the surprised young man.  Within seconds, Jelks enters without knocking and says he heard noises.  Natalia leaves and he says to Bannister, “If I might suggest, a chair lodged firmly beneath the doorknob is the best deterrent.”

The next morning, Basil and Harrington tour the gardens.  They pass a giant Olmec Head except it is more like an Easter Island moai wearing a pair of Gargoyles, so not really an Olmec Head at all.  Actually it looks just like Mark Zuckerberg, but with more humanity. [1]

This is not at all how a Glory Hole is supposed to work.

Anyhoo, Basil says that his life changed at the age of 40 when his father died and left him a fortune.  “I suddenly became enormously eligible!  Young ladies appeared from nowhere!”  That is not a titular Tale of the Unexpected.  That is a Tale of the Expected.

He married 27 year old Natalia and she took over the family’s publishing business; quite successfully, too.  As Basil and Bannister chat in the gazebo, they see Natalia and Haddock frolicking playfully in the garden.  Minutes earlier, we saw them have a literal roll in the hay in the barn.  Basil mentions how loyal Jelks is to him, so Bannister knows Basil must know Natalia came to his room last night, and that she is a big ho.

They watch from the gazebo as Natalia sticks her head through a hole in the wood sculpture.  Haddock kisses her and they laugh until she realizes she is stuck.  The two men join Natalia and Haddock.  They all try pulling her head out by force and smearing her head with Vaseline, K-Y Jelly, then Vagisil.  Finally they put peanut butter on her head and let the dog lick it.

Jelks brings a saw and an axe — on a serving tray yet.  The group is aghast as Basil rears back with the axe and it is clear the target is not the wood sculpture.  TOTU then effectively employs its secret weapon — its jaunty, carnivalesque theme song.  Not since Curb Your Enthusiasm 20 years in the future has a theme been so well-used as a counter-point to the carnage on-screen.

Is it any good?  I’m at a loss.  It could be seen as another episode like The Landlady, where the good stuff was skewed into the last minute.  On the other hand, it did have some nice dry humor throughout thanks largely to John Gielgud.  But even he seems strangely restrained, not quite achieving the masterful bitchiness seen in Arthur two years later.  A little more energy or hamminess would have been a great help here.

Would I ever recommend it?  No.  Was I not entertained?  Yes.  I mean no.  No wait, yes.  Who talks like that?

Other Stuff:

  • [1]  Records from this era are sketchy at best.  Maybe this happened.
  • [2]  Technically the piece is not an objet d’art nor an example of Modern Art.
  • It feels like I’ve seen both John Gielgud and Joan Collins much more than in the few items I’ve seen on their IMDb pages.  Arthur and that episode of Star Trek must have made quite an impression. [3]
  • [3]  Note how excited Spock is in that Star Trek clip — very out of character.  In the 2nd shot, his excitement is reduced to a vigorous handshake.