We open in with John Marriott in prison, so we know this is another episode set outside of the United States where assault, looting, vandalism, and arson are now legal.  Before I digress there, let me digress here:  This is now 5 out of 11 OSB episodes that are set overseas.  Am I missing something?  I didn’t catch-on that Ray Bradbury Theatre had moved production to New Zealand until I noticed 2 Orcs in the 3rd season credits.

Also, I notice that the foreign locations (which will be 6 out of 12 next week) are always in Western Europe.  No paranormal activity in Africa or Asia, fellas?  Even host John Newland tries to come off like a Brit, pronouncing “human record” as “human hhre-KORD“.  John, dude, you were born in Cincinatti! ^[1]  Give it up!

Anyhoo, Marriott is scheduled to be hanged in London that afternoon.  I’d like to think his trial was that morning.  From his cell, he can see the gallows being prepared for the big event.  No, wait, I hope his trial was yesterday so the hammering kept him up all night.  Marriott is nervous and jumpy about the hanging which is in about half an hour.  In a very obnoxious few minutes, he describes his life and crime.  He ends up crying and screaming, “I don’t want to die!”  

The good guys enter the cell and waste a swig of brandy on him.  They walk him up the stairs of the gallows, and put a sack over his head to prevent COVID-19.  Then the noose is tightened around his neck.  The trap door is opened, and his body falls through, thus ending the comedy portion of our program.  Sadly the rope has broken, and more sadlier, he has survived the fall.

Marriott wakes up in the infirmary instead of Hell.  The warden, my kind of guy, is ready to try again right away.  Marriott says, “You’re wasting your time, guvnuh.”  He confidently tells the men they can’t kill him no matter what they do.  Inexplicably they let him eat breakfast before the next try.  At least they don’t waste any more brandy.  

Once again, they escort Marriott through the prison, but this time he is arrogant in his certainty that he will not die.  He even does a little dance.  They march him up the steps to the high platform.  They put the noose around his neck, and he tells them they are wasting their time.  The executioner pulls the switch, but the trap door is stuck.  Marriott laughs at them.  Loudly, mockingly, jeeringly.

Throw him off the side!!!  It’s really high — just throw him off the side!!!

But no, they take him back to his cell, and the House of Lords decide to release him.  He is even more emboldened and obnoxious after his 2nd reprieve.  He later explains that when they put the sack over his head, he had a vision; or maybe it was that garlic omelet. ^[2] “The devil himself” told Marriott that he would “die at the feet of a lion”.  Even when his murder victim’s brother tries to shoot him in a pub, the gun jams.

Inexplicably, except for being extremely drunk, Marriott goes to the zoo.  He goes directly to the lion’s cage and begins taunting the beast.  The zookeepers chase him off and he falls down a long flight of steps.  The camera pans up to show a statue of a lion above him.

As always, this is a fantastic-looking show.  The shot of the gallows through Marriott’s window is magnificent. ^[3] My other frequent comment about the weakness of OSB stories doesn’t really apply here.  This feels more like an urban legend.  It is served up with the requisite three incidents to establish it, and even throws in little twist.

Alfred Ryder as Marriott is excruciating, though.   Whether Panicky Pierre ^[4] in the beginning, or laughing maniacally at his luck, or hamming it up arrogantly in later scenes, he is brutal to watch.  Most others, including John Newland, think this is one of OSB’s best, so I’m willing to blame my own general misanthropy.  

I rate it 7.5 steps beyond.

Other Stuff:

• [1] More likely it is a Transatlantic Accent.
• [2] Advice to future pandemic survivors:  Don’t have chili dogs for lunch and plan on wearing that same mask all afternoon.
• [3] Two words I have never spoken aloud: Fantastic and Magnificent.  If I ever even write “marvelous”, just shoot me (unless referring to Marvin Hagler.)
• [4] I thought this was London.  Forget it, he’s rolling.
• Alfred Ryder (Marriott) was in the first episode of Star Trek.
• My Marriott memories.

OK, the network inexplicably allowed Alfred Hitchcock to set several AHP episodes in England.  Maybe that was a demand he made to stay in touch with his mother country.  What is the excuse with One Step Beyond?  Creator / Director John Newland was born in freakin’ Cincinnati!  Four out of ten episodes have been set in Europe.  Well, you say, maybe that’s just where these real-life, documented, fact-based incidents of the paranormal occurred.  That might be a legit point if they were actually true.  The USA has the best ghosts in the world, and the government is making sure we produce more every day!  F*** yeah, Team America!  Oh, wait . . . ^[1]

At 10:30 pm on 11/14/15, a phenomenon was seen in the skies over Flanders, the East Prussian Front, Italy, and the English Channel.  Again, OSB astounds with its production.  We are dropped into the merde in WWI France.  I suspect it begins with footage from a movie, but is perfectly used and the live action flows naturally from it.  We are introduced to 4 Frenchmen on “a trivial mission” at the front.  The men lament that they are doing this rather than watching the ballet, playing the piano, enjoying vintage wines, or making love.

They see a flare in the sky.  A private asks what will happen if they are spotted.  His sergeant says, “If they kill enough of us, an extra ration of Schnapps.  If we kill enough of them, perhaps they let us take a bath.”  The French private is horrified by both possibilities.

They finally realize that the flare is not descending.  They are entranced by the heavenly light.  All 4 stand and begin walking back to their base.  Soon, they are charged with cowardice and deserting their post because no one has ever heard of Frenchmen retreating. ^[2]  It’s unheard of, I tells ya.

Captain Tremaine arrives to act as their council.  One of the men describes being “blinded by the light”, then being at home with his mother making him pancakes.  He was so at peace that he dropped his rifle and began walking back.  His pal was cut loose like a deuce, another runner in the night.  All 4 have similar tales of being in a peaceful settings — at home, at sea, in a fragrant meadow, and at the Ponderosa Ranch.^[3]

At their trial, Sgt. Vaill says that he also heard a heavenly choir.  Tremaine’s defense hinges largely on the fact that the men walked back from the front.  Or was it walked  front from the back?  No, walked back from the front.  He insists that is the act of brave men.  Cowards would have run.

Naturally, our boys are sentenced to death seconds later.  Thanks, Perry Mason!  [That really only works if you pronounce it like Paul Masson wine.  And are drinking Paul Masson wine.]

The next day, Tremaine goes to the dungeon where the 4 are being held and literally says, “Good Morning.”  To the 4 guys sentenced to death.  That he represented.  He says is going to appeal the decision.

While in town, after giving a 10 year old kid a pack of cigarettes (seriously), Tremaine encounters a German soldier.  The weary man says, “for me the war is finished”.  He too dropped his rifle and walked away.  His comrades also saw something in the sky.  John Newland says there were sightings all over Europe by a thousand soldiers.  The General finally believes and the men are saved.

Again, kind of a thin story but, mon dieu, can these guys put on a show!

Other Stuff:

• [1]  Actually, I have no real beef with the foreign settings — they add a little pizzazz.  However, I do subscribe to the Rod Serling / Richard Matheson / Stephen King model that stories in a relatable setting are more effective.  Also Cat Fancy.
• [2] The closed caption refers to their Court Marshal [sic].
• [3] For some reason, Pernell Roberts, of Bonanza, is playing one of the French soldiers.

Trigger Warning:  There be Asian stereotypes here. ^[1]

Minna Boswell, described as attractive and a bit earthbound, calls out to her Chinese servant Song to see if he remembered the milk.  From off-screen, he replies, “Yes, Miss.  Plenty milk for young person in refligerator.”  I’ll be the first to agree that English uses entirely too many prepositions, but he really punches that middle L while being cool with the other three Rs.

Song is set up as a Magical Asian, and described as not so earthbound because he was born in Peking “where people have been around long enough not to disbelieve merely because they don’t understand.”  However, this story takes place in America just outside stodgy old 1959 San Francisco which, in the next 10 years, will surely never fall for far-out concepts like spirits, karma, auras, and free speech.

Minna has purchased the house for her brother Paul and his daughter Ann to live in after the death of his wife.  Alfred Hitchcock Presents has more brothers and sisters shacking up than Pornhub.  Paul and Ann arrive by cab.  Minna introduces Song by saying he was with the previous owners.  So he came with the house?

While Paul and Minna discuss the size of the house and what a good deal she got on it, Ann is distracted.  She slowly walks to the stairs accompanied by some genuinely creepy music.  Song sees her on the stairs, and she asks him who is up there.  He says, “No one.  Empty looms.”  She says they are not empty.  Minna calls Ann back into the living room and we learn what a hot-head jerk Paul is when she is too slow answering.

Minna presents Ann with three dolls.  Then she and Paul hit the scotch.  Ann pours herself some lemonade but accidentally knocks over a picture of her dead mother.  Paul goes nutz and accuses her of doing it on purpose.  What?  There has been zero indication that Ann didn’t love her mother. He shakes Ann very roughly and says, “She hates her!  She hates her!”  Minna pulls Ann away.  Paul says to his dead wife’s picture, “Why did it have to be you?”  Considering the asshole she was stuck with, she could say, “Just lucky, I guess.”

Later, Minna tells Ann she needs to be patient with her father who, after all, just lost his wife.  Of course she is an 11 year old who lost her mother and a delicious glass of lemonade, so she is the rock in that family.  Ann says she knows her father wishes she had died in the accident instead of her mother.

Ann asks for a tour of the upstairs which is not being used.  Song is giving her and Minna a tour when she hears her name called from one of the bedrooms.  Song says it was a nursery.  Ann insists that it be her bedroom.

A few oddball things happen, which Ann attributes to Jennifer, Rose and Mary.  The episode makes a huge blunder by having Ann point to the dolls as being Jennifer, Rose and Mary.  It would have been much more effective, just having the audience assume that, because the force behind the weird events is actually three ghosts living in the room. They are nice ghosts, though, encouraging Ann to be nice to her father so he will stop being such a dick.

Ann actually is very lucky because the ghosts in the house next door are Lewis, Jeffrey, and Ghislaine.  Although Ghislaine’s ghost won’t show up until her suicide next week. ^[2]

Of course, the magical Song cracks the case.  He tells Paul that Ann just pretended Jennifer, Rose and Mary were the dolls to wrap her head around the fact she was living with dead people.  “Nursery occupied by something other than dolls,” he explains.  In the 1920’s, three girls died from a gas leak in that room.  They too had a nasty father, so they are guiding Ann to soften Paul up.

Well, it’s a happy ending as Paul, Ann and Minna move back to Denver.  I guess they will just foist the house on some sucker who doesn’t realize it comes with three mystical entities, not understood by Americans, and bound to the house forever.  Four if you count Song.

Sure, the episode could be nitpicked to death, but who has the energy?  OK, Paul’s anger at his daughter was inexplicable and pre-dated his wife’s death.  Is he really capable of redemption?  What was the point of Minna being divorced?  Couldn’t she have just been single?  Which was the bigger shame for a 31 year old woman in 1959?

On the other hand, the series continues to surprise with its direction.  There are a couple of truly chilling scenes here.  The score is appropriately eerie.  And, thank God, John Newland is finally learning to direct children.  Unlike the screeching kids in Premonition and Epilogue, Ann’s performance is entirely tolerable.  Quite good, actually.  The one time she does threaten to become obnoxious, he has her run out of the room.  Well-played!

A good week for One Step Beyond.

Misc:

• [1] Well, actually only one — this ain’t no Charlie Chan movie.  Although a Charlie Chan movie might actually have none.
• [2] I guess it is a good sign that I had to reach back almost 200 years for the 3rd name.
• Song also displays his otherness by claiming to listen to plants.
• Maybe his accent was entirely appropriate.  I must admit I don’t talk to many 1959 Chinese people.  Just seemed a little exaggerated.

Oh, One Step Beyond, every week I find something to compliment you on.  It might be the direction, the set design, the use of stock footage, or Cloris Leachman’s slinky dress.  But the visual triumphs are always in service of a slice of the genre pie that is shrinking every week.  Honestly, after this week’s slight entry, I don’t know how much lower OSB can go.

Dude, you never go full-Biden!

In 1901, rambunctious 11-year old Lisa is being hunted down for her ballet lesson.  The maid and her French personal ballet instructor find her on the veranda.  So, yeah, her widowed father has money.  When Lisa sees her father watching, she runs to him and he goes full-Biden, hugging her and picking her up.  It is a little strange because the 11 year old is played by a 15 year old who is a little too curvy for the part and a little too chunky for the ballet.  Oh well, in 5 years, Hollywood will be casting her as the mother.

She shows off her skillz for her father, ending up with a series of pirouettes.  Frenchie implores her to go faster, faster.  When she is about to burst into flames, the teacher tells her to slow down.  But Lisa seems to be in a trance.  She continues spinning and can’t stop even as she sees the ceiling begin to crumble and a large chandelier crashes down on her.  This is one of those visual touches that make the series bearable — really well-done.

As the title of the episode might spoil, this did not really happen — it was the titular premonition.  And it is the only premonition in the episode.  It ain’t exactly a train derailment or the Titanic.  See what I mean?  Lisa collapses, and a doctor is called.  He asks her father if she suffers from Vertigo.  I know it left me unconscious the first time I sat through it.

Lisa awakens and begins screaming that the chandelier fell on her.  This is a high-pitched killer of a scream like the kid in the OSB episode Epilogue.  And this caterwauling goes on for almost a full minute.  John Newland, who directed both Epilogue and this episode had no idea how to restrain kids.  I find a 6 mm nylon line perfectly adequate.

That night, Lisa goes to see the chandelier and gets hysterical at the sight of it.  Any time she must enter the room, she will not walk under it.  The sight or her father or maid walking under it gives her a conniption.

Ten years later — I repeat, ten years later — her caring father has a carpenter finally examine the chandelier fixture.  The carpenter says it could withstand an earthquake.  He calls Lisa in so she can hear that for herself.  She is still terrified of it, though.  Her fiance tries to convince her that they can safely dance under it because he was not in her vision.  He’s really a dick about it, reducing her to tears.  But he finally waltzes her beneath it and she is even able smile about it.

We skip ahead to 1947 — I repeat, 1947 — and Lisa is having a coming-out party for her grand-daughter, which meant something completely different back then.  She seems very happy with life until she hears the chandelier rattling in the ballroom.  Lisa rushes into the ballroom, but we just get a shot of the back of John Newland’s head.  We hear a scream and the sound of the chandelier crashing to the floor.

But who was killed?  Lisa’s grand-daughter was pointlessly also named Lisa.  So was that old Lisa screaming or young Lisa?  Was the premonition 46 years ago just that someone named Lisa would die?  Newland even f*cks with us, delivering his usual, “We know to whom it happened, we know when it happened . . . ” spiel.  Well, spill it dude — who was killed?

Again, there were great elements to the episode.  An Analytical Guide to Television’s One Step Beyond (AGOSB) discusses how cleverly the chandelier is photographed much better than I can.  On the other hand, the book also says this is a high point of the 1st season.  I just find it hard to get excited about a premonition that comes true 46 years later.  She could have predicted a World War and been right twice.  A lot of things can happen in almost half a century.

So, well-presented, but these stories need work.

Miscellaneous

The real mystery is, who is Debbie?

• The episode description on Amazon says, “Debbie is haunted by the fear of her own demise at the hands of a chandelier in her home.” ^[1]
• AGOSB refer’s to Debbie’s vision of the ceiling cracking.
• The cast list in AGOSB includes “Pamela Lincoln (Debbie).”  Strangely, none of the other actors have their character name included.
• Per IMDB, Pamela Lincoln plays “Older Lisa Garrick.”
• There is no question that the girl with the visions and her name-sake grand-daughter are both named Lisa.  So where is this Debbie coming from?
• [1]  Hands of a chandelier?

OSB once again, to great effect, uses historical and stock footage to add depth to a story which is just not that interesting.  We open with several shots of WWII Dunkirk and London in 1940 before we arrive at a bunker where a group of men cheer Winston Churchill’s rousing “finest hour” speech on the radio:

• ’bout time somebody give those Nazis what-for!
• Churchill’s a real British bulldog!
• He’s the leader we’ve been needing!
• It really gives one hope

Of course, in 5 years with the war over, these same blokes will be kicking him to the curb.  Bloody ingrates!

This is an odd assortment of a farmer, a coal miner, a chaplain, a bank teller, a chemist, a grocer, a retired one-armed WWI hero, a young volunteer, and the headmaster of a girl’s school.  It is a different time when this group of patriotic civilians would prefer to defend their country rather than going to work in their own jobs every day (well, except the headmaster, I imagine).

Charlie tells Hubert Blakely that he saw his wife Ethel in town.  She sends a message that he should wear a scarf, and that his tropical fish just had 28 babies.  Marlowe marvels that they still act like newlyweds even though they have been married 20 years.  Well, Blakely must have been 50 when he got married, because this guy is old! ^[1] In fact, except for one young guy, this whole crew looks like COVID-19’s dream smorgasbord.

Col. Marlowe tells Tim that he and the young man, Willie, are to man the outpost tonight.  Tim complains that Willie is not up to the task. In fact, Willie does seem a little twitchy and frightened.  The men know he was rejected from joining the service, but he won’t say why.  Blakely offers to take Tim’s place.  The men head out armed with . . . wait, what?  A sawed off oar and a pitchfork!  Wow, we really did save their arses.

At the outpost, Willie confesses that he really is scared.  Blakely assures him that is normal.  Willie reveals he was rejected from the service for “bad lungs”.  Willie’s confession about his bad lungs seems as if it should be significant, but why?  It’s not as if anyone thought he was rejected by the army for being scared — I don’t think they diagnose that at the induction center.  PTSD, I could see, but he was never actually in the army.  In fact, wouldn’t he want the guys to know he was rejected for a legitimate medical reason?

Strangely, almost halfway into this episode, we don’t really know who it is about.  Blakely and Willie have had the most screen time.  However, several others have had a line or even a scene such as the Colonel, the Chaplain, or Tim.

The elderly Blakely takes the first watch.  Nazis row the boat ashore, hallelujha — wait, that’s not how that goes!  But he has already dozed off.  He dreams of his wife Ethel, as well he might — she is only 35 years old!  Uh, wait a minute, Charlie said they had been married 20 years.  Oh well, it was the olden days, I guess.^[2]  He dreams of Ethel at home asleep in their bed as bombers release their load, which is more than he’s done lately.  The old guy is awakened by the whistling of the bombs, the explosions, and his enlarged prostate.  Good thing, too, because at that very second, a Nazi is peeking into their bunker.

Blakely kills him with the pitchfork and grabs his Luger.  He and Willie go to sound the alarm, but encounter another Nazi.  Blakely shoots this one, even though he still had that swell oar.  Willie picks up the Nazi’s machine gun.  Another Nazi inexplicably decides to wrestle zwei out of drei falls with Blakely.  Willie pulls him off — hee hee — then strangles him.  The rest of the Nazi’s are killed, thus concluding the comedy portion of tonight’s episode.

Back at the bunker, Blakely admits to Col. Marlowe that he fell asleep.  He says he awoke just in time to kill the Nazi because of the bombs exploding over his house in his dream.  Marlowe says no bombs were dropped in their town, but Blakely goes home to see for himself.

He finds it was indeed bombed.  He searches through the burned-out house, but there is no sign of Ethel.  Devastated, he returns to the bunker.  Blakely is overjoyed to find Ethel there.  She says she had a dream of him fighting Nazi’s.  That woke her up in time to hear the bombs and flee to the basement.  Wait, he didn’t go to the basement when he searched his house.  Wouldn’t that be the first place you checked after a bombing or tornado?

Another not particularly interesting — not even really a twist — but more of a gimmick or hook this week.  It really is a mixed bag though, with some great elements.  The episode had great potential with an large cast of defined characters, but didn’t know what to do with them.  Too many people were thrown at the viewer at once, and arcs were hinted at but never paid off.  The shaky kid did kill a Nazi, but that wasn’t really a satisfactory resolution.  Well, not for the kid.

On the other hand, OSB continues to astound with its production design.  It might start out in a one-room bunker, but it eventually moves outdoors (even if it was on a set) to show some effective fighting with the Nazis.  The devastated town that Blakely walks through is utterly convincing.  That and the bombed out home are worthy of a movie in that era.  Much as I love The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents, they never matched the visuals on this series.  If it had not been so committed to such a narrow genre, this series might have been remembered as the equal of those classics.

Other Stuff:

• [1] This not an exaggeration — the actor is 72.
• [2] The actress playing Ethel was 37 years younger than Blakely.  The creepy scene of them in bed looks like the first 30 seconds of a Pornhub video except she doesn’t call him Step-Daddy.
• I honestly didn’t think WordPress could get worse after their previous update.  What I found after being away 6 months was an abomination.  Like Adobe and Microsoft, they seemed determined to make their products more freakin’ unusable with every update.