The Hitchhiker – Dead Man’s Curve (02/11/86)

Successful romance novelist Claudia Reynolds is going to her 21st high school reunion, so she ought to be 39.  Susan Anspach is 44 . . . f*in’ actors, man.

As she approaches her hometown, local dipshit Lance pulls out onto the highway in his red ’57 Chevy [1] to harrass her.  This is right before the directing credit for foreign dipshit Roger Vadim. [2]  How long was Lance waiting there for her?  Was he also laying in wait last year for the 20th anniversary reunion which ya might think she would have been more likely to attend?  Well, I guess she RSVP’d, but that still must have been a long day just awaitin’ for her to drive by.  He recklessly pulls ahead of her taking the most absurd hairpin turn in the US, speeding toward town.

When Claudia pulls her Mercedes up to the hotel, locals flock around her making a fuss.  Especially insane is her old friend Mavis who is happy as a Pekingese to see her.  She introduces Claudia to her young escort for the weekend — Lance.  She busts him for driving like an idiot.  He offers to “let me make it up to you” and grabs her bag, but she takes it herself.  If she doesn’t have enough problems, her old boyfriend is now the sheriff and he takes her bag upstairs.

The sheriff gets a little handsy and she gets rid of him.  Seconds later, Lance shows up with a bouquet of flowers.  Marion Crane didn’t get hassled this much checking into her hotel.  He cuts his hand opening a window, quotes from one her books, and suddenly she is charmed.  They go out for a drive.

Lance spins his car to a stop and offers Claudia a drink from a flask.  They find an old barn where they can have a roll in the hay, and see scrawled onto the wall “CLAUDIA SUCKS” which must be pretty encouraging to Lance.  They start making out and the jealous sheriff shows up.  Claudia plays the celebrity edition of do-you-know-who-I-am-now? that so endears famous, rich, privileged idiots to middle America.  Nice work making the low-life sheriff sympathetic, Vadim.

They go back to Lance’s place and he has a three-way with Claudia and her body double.  Afterward, as she cleans up, she finds a shrine to her in Lance’s bathroom.  He has pictures and copies of her books.  She realizes he is the son of Beau Bridges (the DVD won’t play and the You Tube sound is terrible so I might not have that exactly right).

Lance: I’ve been alone just like you.  My father went off and died.  My step-father ran off.  My mother . . . well, you don’t want to know.

Claudia:  You’re Beau Bridges’ son aren’t you?

Lance: Very good.  He went around with Susie Brennan a while.  But he couldn’t forget you, the way you ran out on him.  Went and killed himself on a curve.

Claudia:  It wasn’t like that Lance.

Lance:  Problem was, Susie was pregnant, see?  That’s where Tom Otterfield came in.  They got married, the whole bit.  Thought the kid was his.  At least he did until he read some book that hinted it wasn’t.  I wonder where he read a thing like that?

Claudia:  I’m sorry Lance.  I didn’t mean it.

Lance:  You’re not running out on me, Claudia.

I had to transcribe that to make sense of it, but I’m not sure it helped.  I get that Claudia wrote a roman à clef [3] about her small town.  But Lance’s father knocked up Susie while hoping to win back Claudia?  How is that Claudia’s fault?  And Susie lied to Tom about the baby being his?  How is that Claudia’s fault?  Is Lance suggesting his father killed himself?  On that crazy road, that isn’t necessarily true.  Anyway, his death occurred long before the book, so Claudia had nothing at all to do with that either. Didn’t her book have the standard disclaimer about “resemblance to any hayseeds, living or dead is purely coincidental”?  And what does Lance mean about her running out on him?

Lance seems threatening at that moment, but I am confused when he produces a pink dress.  Where did that come from?  They are at Lance’s place.  Did she wear that to the prom with his dad?  If so, cheers if she can still fit in it; but jeers for Lance banging his father’s prom-date.

Despite Lance’s dark turn, he drives her back to her hotel.  She goes up to her room and phones her agent to say she is flying back immediately.  Then she goes down the front stairs where Lance is parked.  Seeing the jealous sheriff at the base of the stairs, she takes the back stairs down and goes to her car to escape.  Wait, there are back stairs?  Then why was she originally going back down the front stairs to cross paths with Lance?

Darn the luck, the sheriff chased Lance away from the front door and Claudia runs into him in the alley.  He forces her into the car.  For some reason he is insistent on taking her to the reunion, maybe for those little triangular cream cheese-sandwiches. [4]  The sheriff sees this and chases them.

Lance again accuses Claudia of killing his father.  Out of the blue, she blurts out the true story.  Her before-he-was-sheriff boyfriend actually killed his father.  They were in a drag race and the sheriff cut him off, forcing him off the road.  Of course, you might as well blame Darwin for a crash while drag-racing on a road with a hair-pin curve.  Along about this time, the sheriff rams Lance’s car.  Yada yada, the sheriff goes flying off the road like the General Lee and explodes.

This seems to be heartbreaking to Lance, but I don’t know why.  He didn’t kill the sheriff, I swear it was in self defense.  He just witnessed the death of the man who killed his father — maybe you don’t drink champagne, but do you cry?  Claudia holds him and gives him a kiss, saying “It’s going to be OK.  Both of us.”  Hunh?  For cryin’ out loud, you’re a writer!

What the hell?  From Claudia’s point-of-view, Lance tried to abduct her for some sick reason.  From Lance’s POV, there is still that matter of her book which outted his real father, driving away his step-father, and sending his mother who-knows-where.  So why are they so kissy-face now?

Well, Susan Anspach looked beautiful as Claudia.  I’ll just leave it at that.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] I might have the make and model wrong, but it was definitely red.
  • [2] Really, how much longer do we have to pretend Barbarella isn’t just dreadful? The photo in the North Vietnamese anti-aircraft gun was only Jane Fonda’s second worst picture.
  • [3] Hey Google Voice, it ain’t roman à CLEFF.  Stop being evil and get back to work.
  • [4] WTF aren’t those sold in stores?

Alfred Hitchcock Presents – Dead Weight (11/22/59)

Courtney Masterson is making out with 21 years younger Peg, perhaps as over-compensation for having a girl’s name.  They are at a Lover’s Lane overlooking the city.  Rudy Stickney approaches the car, pointing a flashlight and a gun in their eyes.  He forces them out of the car and nabs Courtney’s purse wallet.  The wallet is loaded with dough, but Rudy isn’t satisfied.

He has Courtney open the trunk and tells him to get in so he can have his way with Peg, perhaps as over-compensation for having to rely on phallic objects to get people to notice him.  When Peg makes a run for it, Courtney knocks Rudy to the ground causing him to drop his gun.  Rudy pulls a knife, but Courtney has his gun.  He forces Rudy into the trunk. Ya know, if the episode ended right here, I would be happy.

Courtney locks Rudy in the trunk, throws his golf clubs in the back seat, and prepares to drive to the police station where he will probably be arrested for kidnapping.  Peg points out that this could generate headlines which might be of interest to his wife.

Courtney drives back to Peg’s apartment.  He had a chance to reveal Rudy to a cop stopped beside him at a light, but did not. He sees Peg to the door, realizing he’s not going to get the kind of junk in the trunk he had anticipated tonight. He drives Rudy back up to Lover’s Lane.  And by the way, this is the biggest f*ing  car I’ve ever seen in my life.

He lets Rudy out of the trunk.  Rudy says he isn’t going to forget this, which is remarkable given the brain damage the carbon monoxide must have caused.  Courtney does the right thing, the fair thing, the honorable thing, the responsible thing, the mature thing, the civil thing, the just thing — he shoots Rudy dead.  At the police station, he says he picked Rudy up hitchhiking and it went bad.  The detective asks a few questions, says he’s a lucky man and sends him home.

This is all excellent, but the episode regresses to the mean pretty quickly.  Luckily, the mean on AHP is still pretty great.  Spoiler:  Courtney’s wife had a PI tailing him who witnessed the whole evening.  He blackmails Courtney to keep his shenanigans secret.  The nerve of his wife having a PI tail her husband; it’s just that kind of distrust that can ruin a marriage.

The ending just doesn’t seem worthy of what preceded it.[1]

Other Stuff:

  • [1] In the light of day, I have no idea what my beef was.  It was a pretty good twist.
  • AHP Deathwatch:  Julie Adams (Peg) is still with us.  She was just in an episode of Lost.
  • Holy crap!  That was 10 years ago?  What have I done with my life!  Also alive: Reita Green, suspiciously credited as Reita.
  • Title Analysis:  A perfect AHP title, just not for this episode — there was no dead weight.

Twilight Zone – The Road Less Travelled (12/18/86)

Six year old Megan McDowell comes downstairs to her parents watching TV.  She says, “Daddy, I’m scared.  There’s a man in my room.”  Actually, I think it would have been more realistic for her to be shrieking, “Daddy, there’s a man in my room!”  The scared part would have been implied.  Show, don’t tell.

Jeff takes her upstairs and shows her there is no man there.  When he clicks off the light, he sees a six year old Vietnamese girl in bed and hears helicopters.  Lights on, back to normal.  He turns the lights off again — which would not have been my next move — and everything is cool.

The next day when Denise brings Megan home from school, Jeff already has the wine flowing.  A kid in his class asked him what he did during Viet Nam.  He answered that he was in school, but did not mention it was in Canada.  He asks, “Why do I feel so guilty?”  Yeah, I wonder . . .

Megan comes downstairs and says the man is back.  Denise takes her in the bathroom to wash her hands. In the mirror, she sees a scruffy bearded man in a Veteran’s Administration wheelchair roll out of sight.  She runs downstairs and meets Jeff. She says, “Did you see him?  Did he come past you?  The man in the wheelchair?”  Jeff steals my thunder by pointing out the man could hardly have wheeled the chair down the stairs past him.  He doesn’t find the man, but does find wheelchair tracks in the plush shag carpeting.

Jeff suddenly flashes back to a past he did not have — he is in a swamp, under fire in Viet Nam. His first instincts are to take off his helmet, throw his rifle aside, and give away their position by screaming like a maniac — so maybe he was right to go to Canada.  He quickly returns to his very patient wife.

He says the man being here is his fault.  “I got drafted, but I chose Canada.  I copped out on Viet Nam.  And now it looks like Viet Nam is catching up with me.”  He thinks maybe the legless man had to go in his place.  Or maybe he died because Jeff wasn’t there.  As he hugs Denise, he flashes back to the war and is making out with a Vietnamese girl, though thankfully not the six year old.  When he snaps back, he does what comes naturally — gets in his car, and drives away.

The next day at work, Denise gets a call from Jeff asking her to come home.  But a few minutes later, Jeff comes to her office looking for her.  Uh-oh.  She arrives home first, finding the man in the wheelchair — a bearded, grizzled, legless doppelganger of Jeff.  Jeff-2 suggests there was a fork around 1971 and they took different paths.

Denise died young in Jeff-2’s timeline.  Ya might think that would be used to validate Jeff-1’s choice, but nothing really is done with it.  Jeff-1 has a random idea that by holding hands, they can exchange memories, giving Jeff-2 some happier ones to cling to.  From there it gets new agey and kumbaya in the way that caused such damage to this TZ reboot.

I appreciate that the episode didn’t come down hard on either side of the draft-dodging question.  It really just addressed the fall-out of each man’s choice without placing blame.  Despite the mushy ending, it was a good journey.

Other Stuff:

  • Title Analysis: More like the Road Not Taken than The Road Less Traveled.  But the both came from the same source.  I mean literally . . . literally literally.
  • But what’s up with the 2 L’s in Travelled?
  • Cliff DeYoung (Jeff) is still on my sh*t-list for his role in detonating that atomic bomb in Valencia.  [UPDATE] Turns out that was Raphael Sbarge.

You’ll Always Remember Me – Steve Fisher (1938)

Our star wakes up to Pushton blowing the beagle bugle.  He goes down the row of beds, tearing the covers from everyone.  He yells, “Get up!  Get up!  Don’t you hear Pushton blowing his lungs out?”  Who is this grizzled leader?  Sgt. Hartman?  Sgt. Foley?  Sgt. Carter?  [1] No, it is 14 year old Martin Thorpe at the Clark Military Academy.

He is unhappy with the school despite the double tuition his father has to pay to keep them from expelling him.  He thinks, “I swear there isn’t a 14 year old in it that I could talk to without wanting to push in his face.”  He feels this way because he thinks he is smarter than everyone else, so I’m sure guys from 15 to 50 (and above, but alliteration, ya know) find his mug imminently punchable also.

He is trying to get the latest on his pal Tommy Smith.  A senior tells him the governor didn’t come through, so he will be hung on Friday.  Martin didn’t think they had the evidence to convict Tommy of “putting a knife in his old man’s back.”  He has the hots for Tommy’s 15 year old sister Marie, but fears her brother’s execution might be a downer for their relationship.

Martin had been at the Smith house the night of the murder.  Tommy wanted to marry a girl his father did not approve of.  Martin says, “Tommy was a nice enough sort.  He played football at the university, was a big guy with blond hair and a ruddy face, and blue eyes.  He had a nice smile, white and clean.”  So I kinda want to punch him.

Detective Duff Ryan thinks Martin might be more involved than he admits.  He confronts Martin about the time the class mascot goat broke its legs in a stunt . . .  what a scamp.  Then there was the time he pushed a kid into an oil hole and wouldn’t let him out . . . just some horseplay.  Remember when he roped that calf, stabbed it, and watched it bleed to death . . . er, OK.  And he got sent away for observation when he poisoned a neighbor’s two Great Danes . . . alright, there might be a problem.

Well, once you hear about Martin’s shenanigans and hijinks, ya kinda know where this is going.  Of course, he killed the old man and set Tommy up for it.  He does have at least one more evil deed left for the story.  Suffice it to say, the name PUSHton was probably not chosen at random.  In fact, the name is spelled Push-ton in the first paragraph of the story.  I was ready to both praise the fore-shadowing and criticize the ham-handedness.  Nah, I was just going to mock it.  The paperback version also spells it Push-ton, but Push- is at the end of a line, so I guess the middle of the line Push-ton on the Kindle is just an editing error.  Quite a racket they have:

  1. Sell a 2.8 pound paperback book that is physically impossible to read.
  2. Force purchaser to then get the Kindle version.
  3. Maximize profit by doing no editing on the e-version.

Well-played, Amazon.  Well-played.

That goofiness aside, it is a fun, short read.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Kudos to Gunnery Sgt. Vince Carter for being the only one not to use the steers & queers gag.
  • First published in the March 1938 issue of Black Mask.

Ray Bradbury Theater – The Town Where No One Got Off (02/22/86)

It’s hard to believe these first few episodes of Ray Bradbury Theater are part of the same series I grew so contemptuous of while watching the later episodes.  Maybe, in some sense they are not, in the same way you can’t urinate in the same river twice. [1]  

This episode clearly has a larger budget than the later episodes.  Not only are there dozens of extras, many exteriors, and multiple locations, but they have a real train.  It has an experienced director to move things along, and get the occasional interesting shot.  It also has some star-power with Jeff Goldblum after he had already had a few big roles, and the same year as The Fly.

Cogswell [2] (Jeff Goldblum) is gazing out the window at fields and small towns.  They must be on their way to New York because the passenger across from him wonders, “What kinds of lives do people live in God-forsaken places like that?”  Cogswell suggests that they enjoy peace and quiet, clean fresh air, friendly people; it is a farming community where people “look out for each other instead of looking out for number one”, although they do have to look out for number two.

The man spots Cogswell as one of those “bleeding hearts with their heads stuck in the past.  They think the solution to the life’s problems are waiting around the bend on small town front porches.”  So he’s a bleeding heart conservative?  He challenges Cogswell to get off at the next stop and talk to the boring-as-hell rubes.  Maybe I’m wrong, maybe this is the Acela Express.

The idealistic Cogswell does get off at the next random town even though it is not a scheduled stop.  As the train pulls away, he sees the other passenger through the window shaking his head at either 1) Cogswell’s naivete about humanity, or 2) in amazement that his absurd ruse to clear the seat in order to put his feet up actually worked.

At the train station, Cogswell encounters a very rude clerk, and a sleeping old man who is only slightly less responsive than the clerk.  He leaves his bags and starts touring the town.  He walks past the cemetery, past some horses, into the small town.  He tries to get a drink from a machine, but it is as unresponsive as the citizens.  A scowling clerk tells him it is broken.  It must be said that Cogswell is doing an admirable job of trying to be friendly and engage these awful people.

He sees the sleeping man has awakened and is standing down the street.  When he sees Cogswell has noticed him, he turns his back.  However, he starts following Cogswell.  He next walks down a street covered in fallen autumn leaves.  He sees a little girl on a swing.  He asks the girl’s mother about the room-for-rent sign.  She rudely tells him it has been rented.  He sees the old man again and walks the other way.

He goes back to the store with the scowling clerk.  He asks two guys playing checkers what time the next train stops.  The men ignore him, but the clerk says, “It don’t.”  She explains that it only stops if there is a flare on the track.  He steps out and sees the old man window-shopping pocket knives at the hardware store.  He reaches for the door, but someone immediately closes the blinds and puts out the CLOSED sign.

A dog barks at him, and the police station is locked.

He finally comes face to face with the old man.  He tells Cogswell he has been waiting a long time at that station.  After more walking and talking than an Aaron Sorkin script, the man leads Cogswell into an old garage.  The old man confesses he has long wanted to murder someone and figures a stranger in town would be the perfect victim.  Cogswell counters with a story that coincidentally he also wants to murder someone and figures visiting a town where no one knows him would provide the perfect opportunity. Cogswell gets back on the train, and the old man resumes his nap at the station.  The end.

They were wise to pay the money to get Jeff Goldblum.  There is a lot of mundane dialogue in the episode, but he is endlessly fascinating to watch.  But to what end?  In the final face-off, is Cogswell bluffing about committing a murder?  Almost certainly, but it is a nice turning of the tables.  But that confrontation really has nothing to do with the why the townsfolk are all so surly.  So ultimately, we get resolution on why one man is acting crazy toward this stranger in town, but no mention of the much bigger mystery — why are all the rest of the people here such assholes?

Still, it looked great, and Goldblum was great in it.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Note to self: Might need to brush up on my Heraclitus.  Or someone’s Heraclitus.
  • [2] For some reason this strikes me as a terrible character name.  Maybe because it suggests he is a cog in some mechanical or metaphysical process. And I’m not hard to please — I thought Fiorello Bodoni was a perfectly fine name for a rocket man.
  • Title Analysis: My guess is that Bradbury was too pure of heart to even get the naughty spin of the title.  In fact, that might be what doomed this series to low-budget hell.  Maybe HBO wasn’t going to keep funding it if it wasn’t going to occasionally show a little skin like Tales From the Crypt or The Hitchhiker.
  • The town seems be to named Erewhon.  That is the name of a utopian novel by Samuel Butler, a health-food store in Los Angeles, and is nowhere spelled sideways.  Tip o’ the hat for the Butler reference here.
  • Yeah, during the talky parts, I was thinking, “Must go faster!