Science Fiction Theatre – The Missing Waveband (06/15/56)

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So help me, Truman Bradley actually got me excited at the beginning of this episode.  No, it wasn’t the way he is poured into that suit.  He described “a man-made moon, circling the earth.”  Wow, is this episode set in the distant future?  Cool!  Is it like a Deathstar?  Wow!  Or is he saying our regular ol’ moon is actually man-made (SFT has a precedent of calling alien technology “man-made”)?  Intriguing!  Sadly, none of the above.  SIGH . . . he is just referring to a weather satellite.

He continues on to introduce us to Dr. Milhurst, who lives “several miles from a southwestern city.”  Thanks for narrowing it down to the entire southwest and several miles into the northwest, southeast and sliver of the northeast.  Way to paint a picture.  Are you afraid I’m going to drop by?  Here, Milhurst works “ceaselessly delving into the mysteries of the universe.”

He has invited three other imminent scientists to his lab.  In a first for SFT, he does not have a hot daughter living with him, and none of the other scientists sent his daughter as a surrogate.  He confesses that the recent breakthroughs he made in satellites and orbital mechanics were not his own work.  They came from someone else.  “I don’t know his name.  I don’t even know where he lives, or what country he’s from.”  But he does know he is a “he”.

One place he might have suspected is in Spain because this plot is suspiciously similar to SFT’s Postcard from Barcelona which just aired 7 months ago.

“Some months ago I was doing experiments in the extremely high bands of the electro-magnetic spectrum.”  He made a broadcast in that band, expecting no one to hear it.  He immediately got a response in a clear english-speaking voice.  The voice did not tell him much, but instructed him to tune back in the next night at the same time; also to buy Lucky Strikes.  Eventually, hoping to make earth more peaceful, the voice gave Milhurst the orbital equations.

The other three scientists come back for the next transmission hoping to glom some info to make them famous like Milhurst.  They transmit questions about Chemistry, Atomic Energy, Computer Technology, and how to talk to girls.  An hour later, the voice returns with answers to technical issues they had been researching for years.

The next night, the boyz are a little more altruistic.  They are concerned about ICBMs destroying America before they get a chance to cash in.  They ask if it is possible to build a device that would alert us to incoming missiles.  Or, better yet, destroy the missiles before they landed.  Some sort of Initiative for Strategic Defense!  Maybe call it ISD!

The voice gives them the data to build such a system.  As they watch a radar screen, they are able to identify satellites.  One of the blips is not a satellite, though.  They watch it moving across the screen.  As it moves vertically up the screen, one of them says, “It has an upward trajectory.”  Er, on a 2-D global map, wouldn’t that indicate it is moving north?  He is not the dumbest in the group, though.  As the blip approaches Montana, Milhurst says, “It is over south-central New Mexico.”

The tests go perfectly.  Milhurst even discovers an undocumented feature of the voice’s invention.  Although if WordPress, Microsoft, or Adobe have any say in it, they will add needless steps or eliminate the feature entirely.[1]  He is able to locate the source of any radio transmission.  They discover the transmissions are coming from the vicinity of Jupiter.

Not much story here, and the story that is here was here 7 months ago.  However, bravo to SFT for getting some small things right.  They correctly placed Jupiter about 367 million miles away (even TZ never seemed to understand how big space is).  They acknowledged that live dialogue was not possible at that distance.  That made the delay a reasonable 64 minutes.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Seriously, are these companies letting interns push out updates now?
  • According to SFT: A History of the Television Show, Millhurst was the highest paid actor, pocketing $600.
  • Variety called both the directing and screenplay “so-so”.  Maybe they should have given one of the guys a daughter.

Alfred Hitchcock Presents – The Contest for Aaron Gold (10/18/60)

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This is one of those episodes that makes me wonder how much TV from 50 years ago reflected reality and how much was a whitewashing — literally and figuratively — of the world.

It is 5 days until Camp Lakeside opens and the owner Mr. Stern is working his staff like a slavedriver except they are white, getting paid, not being beaten, and allowed to read and marry.  When ceramics teacher Bernie Samuelson shows up, it is clear they are old friends.

Stern points out Lefty James down by the lake painting the diving platform.  In a bizarre scene, Stern loudly yells to Lefty, “SAY HELLO TO TO BERNIE SAMUELSON . . . SAM–UEL–SON . . . CER–AM–ICS!”  The freakishly buff Lefty is holding a can of paint in one hand and waves with the other still holding a paintbrush.  Stern admiringly says Lefty was once in a Tarzan movie and they watch as he does a swan dive into the lake.  Why the long-distance introduction?  Why the over-enunciated yelling?  Why the, frankly, homo-erotic shot of Lefty?  Why the sudden dive when he was painting one second before?  Did he seal the can?  Did he wash the brushes?  Did he eat in the last 30 minutes?

Stern says he knows Bernie’s background as a sculptor and “I think you will agree that ceramics have taken a large step forward here at Camp Lakeside.”  Stern’s goal is for the kids to produce something to show the parents.

On Bernie’s first day with the kids — and WTF was he doing for the interim 5 days? — his bunch of young boys are not paying attention as he demonstrates a pottery wheel.  In another sign of how times have changed, it seems a little creepy that 1) he is 10 years older than you expect in a camp counselor, 2) he puts hands on their shoulders as he steers each to his chair, and 3) he explains that camp policy is for the boys to call him Uncle Bernie.  There is no hint of anything amiss.  As I said, just a sad sign of our cynical times.

On the boys’ first day, they mold clay into such challenging shapes as a snake, a pancake, an ashtray, and a fabulous sculpture of a man, made by the titular Aaron Gold.  Over the next few days, Aaron skips some of the other camp activities to seriously work on his sculpture.  Bernie is impressed with Aaron’s attitude and skill, although the figure is still deficient in arms to the tune of one.

Stern is not seeing the value in Aaron’s sculpture.  He says by Parent’s Day, Bernie and Aaron better have something to show and it better have an even number of arms.  Aaron says his father will not care if he only has one sculpture as long as it is beautiful.  And it will take as long as it takes.

That night, Stern comes by to inspect the ceramics projects.  Half of them seem to be ashtrays.  What did campers make when people stopped smoking?  Maybe that’s why there aren’t many camps any more.  Then maybe that lack of socialization, outdoor activities and discipline led to the disgraceful millennial generation.  I might pick up a carton of Luckys tonight just to get the US back on track.

Stern is critical of Aaron.  He has only an unfinished sculpture to show for Parent’s Day.  He did not earn the Intermediate Dolphin Swimming Badge, the Woodcraft Badge or a Softball Stripe.  Since Aaron’s father owns a chain of grocery stores, Stern wants to keep him happy.  He orders Bernie to put an arm on Aaron’s sculpture.

The next morning, Aaron is crushed to see that Bernie has added an arm holding a sword to the figure.  It is obvious why when his father shows up and HE IS AN MONSTER!!!  At least, that’s how it feels.  Mr. Gold arrives at the Ceramics Tent and the camera zooms in on the right sleeve of his jacket which is neatly folded, pinned to his shoulder and empty as a Bill & Hillary 2020 Speaking Tour.  Not only does the camera zoom in, but the shot freezes, and the orchestra swells.  Buster Bluth was treated with more respect.

Barry Gordon, who was so good in The Day of the Bullet, turns in another fantastic performance as Aaron.  He carved out a too-brief, two-episode AHP niche as the bestest, most loving son a father could ever have.  In his previous appearance, his father let him down and he was crushed.  Even though this episode ended abruptly, it was clear that their beautiful father-son bond would survive this awkwardness.  I could imagine his old man graciously accepting Bernie’s apology, loving the sculpture, grabbing a burger at the cookout, tossing some horseshoes, and rowing round and round in circles on the lake.

Other Stuff:

  • Based on a short story by Philip “yes, that Philip Roth” Roth.  That stunned me even more than the famous John Cheever episode of Mama’s Family.
  • Bernie was played by big-shot director Sydney Pollack who directed some great films, some good films, and Out of Africa.
  • In an episode where the twist is a man with one arm, they have a 2-armed character named Lefty?  That’s just cruel.

Twilight Zone – Crazy as a Soup Sandwich (04/01/89)

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I have honestly gone back and forth for 2 weeks on whether this is a great episode or just unwatchable shit.  And it’s not even a close call — it is decidedly one or the other.

It uses a garish color palette, something you would expect from Tales from the Crypt.  Well done, if this is what you’re looking for.

The lead character Arky is a skinny, obnoxious, hyperkinetic, man-child with a high pitched voice like very-early-era Jerry Lewis.  Unfortunately, he is about as funny as every-other-era Jerry Lewis.  Yet, I can’t help but be impressed by his commitment to the part.  Seriously, the actor gives it 100% and I think is successful in what he wanted to do.

The dialogue is stilted and wordy.  For example: “Before you have Gus and Bork reduce him to his component parts for shipment, are you interested in hearing his tale of woe?”  Or, when Arky is asked why he made a deal with a demon: “For a first-refusal option on 51% of my immortal soul.”  Yes, I understand that it is purposely so, and I appreciated the musicality of some of the lines, but to what end?

That is just one of many indications that this does not take place in the Twilight Zone universe (ie our universe).  The whole foundation of TZ was that is existed in little cracks of our reality.  The old TZ’s stories took place in dull, B&W 1958-1964 when suddenly BAM! — your daughter falls out of bed and into another dimension.  This uber-styled episode is, again, a better fit for TFTC than TZ.

For some reason, a particularly egregious example of this did make me laugh.  Poor Arky is on the hook to the mob for a loan with 750% interest!  Or maybe this was set during the Carter Administration.

I did enjoy the design of the demon.  It is arguably cheesy, but I found its shifting, yellow, cloud-like form to be fabulous.  It was also given a voice that was a perfect blend of menace and stentorian parody.  That was great as far as it went, but it just kept going and going.  Paradoxically, that’s just how I want my demon to speak, but the constant yelling does get tedious.

The anchor of the episode is its straight man, Anthony Franciosa. As the mobster, he projected cool, confident authority and confidence.  Without him, the episode would have been irredeemable.

This felt like when they used to take an episode of a sitcom and unexpectedly shift the focus to a different family or character as a non-committal spin-off pilot.

So I guess I appreciated more than I liked it.  It is impossible to assign it a number or letter grade.  I rate this one a mauve.

Mansion of Death – Roger Torrey (1940)

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According to the introduction — and why else would I pay for a bunch of 80 year old public domain stories — this is “the most atypical story one could imagine in the pages of a pulp:  a little old lady takes a hard-boiled detective and leads him around by the nose.”  Well, the age and the body part are different, I’ll give’m that.

Shay was summoned to the Conklin Mansion, as it was known yesterday, to meet Miss Conklin about her murdered maid.  He liked the old woman immediately.  She looked like an old-fashioned grandmother dressed up in 5th Avenue clothes.  Her clothes fitted her perfectly and undoubtedly had cost her a lot of money.  But she didn’t seem to belong in them.  Yeah, but she damn well better stay in them if they expect me to finish this story. [1]

Conklin says $1,864 was stolen from her desk drawer.  Strangely, there were $50,000 in bonds in the same drawer, but none were taken.  Also, her 28 year old maid Mary Morse was murdered (I’m picturing Anne Hathaway’s intro in The Dark Knight Rises).  She did not call the police because she didn’t want them tramping through the house, and she has her own way of handling things.

Suspects are plentiful as Miss Conklin hires only ex-prisoners for her staff.  For example, the Butler was sent up for Armed Robbery and Assault, and her Chauffeur is also “an ugly bird”, presumably of the jail variety.  She does not want them hassled.

I thought of the butler and the cutthroat who had driven us to the house — and lord knows what other specimens around the house — and said, “Mrs. Conklin, I’d as soon live in a cage with wild tigers as here.

“That is very unfair,” she said.

“If Mary could talk, I’ll bet she wouldn’t agree with you.”

Boom!  The police arrive and determine that the Chauffeur had indeed done time in Dannemora and Joliet.  The Gardeners had collectively done time at McAlester, Folsom, and Leavenworth.  The Cook killed her husband with a frying pan.  Mary and the other Maids had done time for minor infractions such as shoplifting and practicing lesbianism without a license.  Also in the house are her nephew George and her niece Frances.

The butler tells Shay that Mary had been shaking George down for cash.  In fact, George had roughed her up about it recently.  Miss Conklin asks him not to pass that tidbit on to the cops until she has time to investigate it herself.

She lays a trap for her nephew, but he spoils it by actually being concerned about his aunt.  Then, her niece’s boyfriend — described problematically as a “small, dark man” — enters to conk Conklin on the head.  Luckily, Shay is hiding behind the fern and shoots him in the shin.  Yeah, right in the bone, splitting it in two.  I’m cringing just thinking about it.

Like the apocryphal liberal who has been mugged, Miss Conklin suddenly sees the light on punishment.  She pulls a horsewhip out of a drawer and begins whaling on Frances.  Shay has to stop her before she kills the girl.

Turns out, Miss Conklin’s sympathy for criminals was not ideologically driven.  She had actually done time herself, so felt an affinity for these jailbirds.  After that beating she gave her niece, she might get a chance to be around a lot more of them.

I could imagine this story being very entertaining if it were expanded.  The older woman taking charge is new.  The staff of criminals has great possibilities for fun.  And who doesn’t like a crook’s leg being blown off?  At just a few pages, though, it wasn’t possible to do much with it.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Sorry about the ageism, but 30 minutes ago, I was traumatized by a scene on TV with a naked 100 year old woman.  Luckily, this was just basic cable so there is no lasting retinal damage.  On the plus side, it is an opportunity to recommend The Mick — maybe the funniest show since Arrested Development (Seasons 1-3 (it is also funnier than AD Seasons 4 and 5 but so is [insert any name here]).
  • First published in the May 25, 1940 issue of Detective Fiction Weekly

Tales from the Crypt – 99 & 44/100% Pure Horror (01/18/95)

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Lovely blonde Willa Sandleton is taking a shower when her husband enters the bathroom.  He asks his nekkid wife to not throw towels on the floor, and where do they keep the antacid.  From the looks of things, he’s seems to conveniently have a roll of Tums in his pocket right now. [1]

Luden Sandleton sits down to watch a promotional video about his soap company.  He says most companies use rendered animal parts that are full of acid to make their soap.  “Think about it, would you want the stuff that digests food in your stomach doing the same kind of thing to your face?  That’s why for the past 70 years, DermaSmooth has been all-natural.”

Willa enters and he tells her that soap sales are at an all-time low, and with the Occupy Wall Street generation being born, they won’t be getting any better.  The board seems to think it is because Willa’s artwork has gotten stale.  In a radical departure for TFTC, Night Gallery, and TV in general, the drawing she holds up is actually pretty good.  It reminds me of that old Poco album cover.[2]  Typical of TV’s ineptitude, however, this fine hunk of art is supposed to be bad.  Anyhoo, she takes the criticism well, and immediately works on some new concepts for the shareholders meeting.

Unfortunately, Luden tells her the board decided to forego her more — er, controversial — work as well in favor of a graffiti artist.  BTW, preceding this was a bizarre scene of Willa appearing on a talk show.  On one hand, it was blatantly and jarringly shoe-horned in only to set up the name of the graffiti artist.  On the other hand, it was a shockingly tight little scene.  Graffiti guy has his moment and shows off his art, the host gives Willa about 15 seconds and hilariously does not show hers, this universe can apparently sustain a TV show about art running against The View, and the host is fabulously clueless and cruel about the mentally challenged artists in the next segment.  This could have been a big nothing that just set up the other artist’s name as a joke.  It gives me hope for TV that someone actually put some effort into this little scene.

But back to Willa and Luden.  When he gives her the bad news she gives him a 2-handed slap in the face.  Both cheeks at the same time — smack — and storms off, her heels clacking on the hardwood floor.  OK, it ain’t Shakespeare, but it’s pretty dang funny.  So, definitely not Shakespeare.

Willa tells Luden that if the board won’t use her design then she wants a divorce.  Her delivery is so over the top that I’m not sure if she is a terrible actress, or is one of the few that actually understands TFTC.  They have built up some good will, so I say Bravo! to her.  Her divorce case gets off to a rocky start as Luden has pictures of her fooling around with another man.

I feel compelled to offer a spoiler warning even though this next bit is not a major twist or unexpected plot point.  Willa picks up a DermaSmooth soap on a rope, spins it so fast it whistles, and clocks Luden right in the face with this massive brick of soap.  Then again and again.  It is fast, brutal and awesome.

Gratuitous, but I didn’t include the shower shots.

Willa takes Luden’s body to the soap company which fortunately has no guards and a drive-through manufacturing plant.  She tosses his body into a vat of soap and hits the START button.  In minutes, bars of DermaSmooth  roll out on a conveyor belt.  She takes a box back home with her.

She is still covered with Luden’s blood, so gets into the shower with one of the bars of soap that he is part of.  What happens next is also fun.  As she rubs the soap over her body, the acid begins to eat away at her, leaving her screaming in a goo of water, soap, and bloody skin.  The camera pans from her ravaged body, to some of her new artwork which is stylistically similar to her current condition.  Bravo on tying her art to her fate!

This was a great, fun episode.  Bruce Davison was fine as Luden and Cristi Conaway was outstanding as Willa.  The fact that her career in Hollywood only seems to have lasted another 5 years shows how little they know about what works.  This was an excellent showing of beauty, comedic-timing, understanding the material, and perfectly toned scenery-chewing.  And they made Julia Roberts the big star of the 90’s?

I am a 99.44% satisfied customer, but I must say that ending was a little sloppy, and not just the entrails.  C’mon, Luden’s body was about 2% of that vat of soap mix.  And even though a handy voice-over reminds that he said animals contain acid, they aren’t totally acid.  And the ending is muddled by his earlier question about the antacid in the beginning of the episode.  Are they suggesting that the acid from his upset stomach was enough to dissolve Willa?  That f***ing tummy-ache should have bled through his shirt like Roy Hobbs in The Natural. [3]

But none of that matters.  I don’t know if this episode and The Assassin are proof that all TFTC needs is a hot blonde as the killer to be a success, but it’s worth more testing.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] See, because he isn’t jumping this babe.  I’m emasculating him by speculating on the size of his weiner.  Like the old “Are you happy to see me?” joke.  See, is that clear?
  • [2] Designed by Phil Hartman, BTW.
  • [3] I never understood that scene.  He had just been poisoned, but his gunshot wound was years earlier.  What caused the bleeding?
  • Title Analysis:  I dig it.  And as usual Unca Cecil has the answer to a question I never considered . . . pure what?
  • She thought this would sell soap? And I thought the guys at Gillette were boobs.