The redundantly-named Poll-O-Meter was invented to detect what people are watching on TV, presumably for tax purposes because everything is for tax purposes. Specially designed vans collect this data as they drive through communities. [6]
That is, “Until the morning of June 20th when the Poll-O-Meter gave a result which was apparently contrary to reason and possibility” and not just finding a viewer of HBO’s Girls. [3] Dr. Jim Wallaby was called in to explain the results and so people could make fun of his name.
As they drive, the POM efficiently detects the viewing in each house. All is well until one house is determined to be watching channel 84, which was never assigned by the FCC. [1] You might ask then why there is even an 84 on their dial? Well, I’d like to know why my Toyota’s speedometer goes to 160 MPH. [5]
They go into the house to be sure nothing is escaping taxation. In a rare departure for this series, there is actually a funny scene. The woman who lives on the first floor is a motormouth. She enthusiastically answers Wallaby’s questions even though her TV won’t be delivered until tomorrow. Her upstairs tenant, Mr. Rohrbach, says he was watching channel 9. As Wallaby leaves, the woman amusingly continues babbling about the mahogany-cased TV she does not have yet. [2]
That night, Wallaby is still trying to figure out how he was getting a signal from Channel 84. His beautiful girlfriend has an idea: Go back and see what was being transmitted on Channel 84. Wallaby, the driver, a camera-man, and the cute girl crowd into the micro-bus. The result is not what I usually see from this scenario online. They report the phenomena to the FCC. Wallaby describes the transmission as “a scrambled alphabet”, although there are clearly words on the screen. To be fair, I guess he was technically correct.
We see Rohrbach setting up equipment in his apartment. He begins scanning a page from the encyclopedia, which is how I went to sleep when I was a kid.
Back in the office, the bus gang is reading a printout of the “scrambled alphabet”. Wallaby says it was a “brain breaker” to crack the code which, as far as I can see, was mostly inserting spaces between words.
Wallaby is visited by a man from the government. He says he works “for the agency that investigates UFO”. Singular. He repeats, “UFO, Unidentified Flying Objects.” So I guess the O used to include the S. Since this was filmed before the Bill of Rights — hey, my public school education pays off again — they go back to search Rohrbach’s apartment.
Rohrbach returns, but isn’t too upset by Wallaby’s intrusion. The conversation turns to Einstein and E = MC2 , as it frequently does during a home invasion. Rohrbach says it is not only possible to send TV pictures via energy, but also objects and people. When Wallaby returns to the Van, they take another look at the Channel 84 transmission. They see Rohrbach teleporting out, Star Trek style.
The UFO man suggests Rohrbach was an alien scanning the encyclopedia to transmit back to his superiors as a report on Earth, which seems like cheating. I guess that’s why he didn’t just simply teleport the whole encyclopedia. Sure, he would have gotten the gold gilded pages and rich Corinthian binding, but he would have been nailed as a plagiarist like a certain scumbag president in Volume B.
This is the last episode of Science Fiction Theatre. It was a paradoxical sci-fi series because the first season embraced the new technology of color broadcasting, then it reverted to lower tech B&W in season 2. B&W was really a better fit because it lowered your expectations of a well-written and competently acted show. On the other hand, after 60 years of color TV, we now know that color is not a sign of quality.
The series never aired on a major network or NBC — it was syndicated. I’m not sure what the air date stated on IMDb means then, but it would have had stiff competition that night from Rin Tin Tin, Flicka, and Coke Time with Eddie Fischer (apparently guest starring his daughter Carrie this week). Woohoo!
Other Stuff:
- [1] For kidz reading this, TVs used to have a VHF dial for Channels 2 – 13 and a UHF dial for Channels 14 – 83. They also had a knob for Brightness, but it didn’t make the shows any smarter (Gallagher, circa 1985).
- [2] This episode was directed by Eddie Davis who directed the series’ best episode, Sun Gold. He also directed Killer Tree which contained the exact same chatty woman gag. It was such an unexpected bit of humor and characterization that I Iaughed both times.
- [3] A better reference would have been HBO’s Arliss, but so few people remember it despite running 7 seasons, that it is a little too good of a reference.
- [5] Done because engineers want the actual top speed to be in the high-visibility 10:00 to 2:00 territory. In supermarket parlance, this was formerly known as the Bud Light Shelf Display Zone.
- [6] As was actually done when the BBC used Detector Vans to see who was watching Masterpiece Theater without a license. They soon found it cheaper and more accurate to scan for the sound of snoring.
They pass a man wearing a jacket & tie walking along the road carrying a suitcase. Back in 1959, this guy looks demonic with his beard. In fact, he looks like a young me heading to the local motel, except he’s carrying a suitcase. Turns out, the man is on the wrong road. Grandpa offers him a ride and offers to let him stay overnight at the cabin. Then he will drive him to his destination in the morning.
Grandpa is amazed that the train is running. He looks in the suitcase hoping to find the mysterious source of this power, and maybe some Fig Newtons. Inside, he finds that miracle of 1950’s computing: a board with lights on it.
John takes it to the lab to show his boss and soon the Feds are sniffing around too. Scientists attempt to see what is inside, but the board is as impenetrable as the mustard packets I got at Culver’s today. [3] The old man, though born before electricity, has the great idea to use the awesome power of the board to penetrate the board. They are successful and determine that the board is made of
Dr. John Hustead has been experimenting with a magnetic field “that will not only make objects weightless, but actually reverse the effects of the earth’s gravitational pull” so that dropped toast will finally land jelly-side up, but on the ceiling. Elizabeth Wickes enters and tells him she just filled in at a lecture that he absent-mindedly forgot. Later, from 4:00 – 4:10 she will cover his weekly office hours.
After way too much talking, Hustead figures out the device needs fresh air . . . or cool air . . . or
Howard Evans enters Susan Calvin’s lab expecting to find a man. She lets him dangle for a few questions before admitting she is Dr. Calvin. He reaches in his pocket and grabs two stones. With his other hand, he shows her two glassy green rocks. She tells him they aren’t emeralds, but he already knows that.
Evans tells her a top secret expedition is going to Peru to find where this glass came from, find how a nuclear explosion was set off, find who could have done it, and find lodging with indoor plumbing. And guess what? You’re on it! The expedition, not the plumbing.
In Red Ghost Valley, using the hieroglyphics on a stone tablet, they begin solving the mystery. Dr. Calvin translates, “Four stars make up a sun on earth. One star on the 15th step of the big staircase. One star on the yellow peak. The third star on the block below. And the fourth star right where we’re standing.” They are finally able to figure out the cryptic locations, especially the “right where we’re standing” one.
In the 2nd half, the fun continued with stunts, explosions, and actual ideas. Even the shortcomings work in its favor. Howard Evans is not developed much as a character. [2] But that is largely because Marilyn Erskine as Susan Calvin blows him off the screen (but that is none of our business). Not only is she beautiful, but she drives much of the detective work solving this mystery. Another example is some wind noise in the Andes scenes. I suspect it is a technical error (not Hollywoody enough), but it totally works in establishing the harsh environment.

Hearing that the mob is heading this way, the alleged killer demands to be set free, even though he is in the safest possible place — a locked iron cage. Fiedler also whines to be released, but he is again the least of their worries. Besides, he just did the impossible; he committed another crime while alone in a jail cell. Bloody recidivist!
After putting on Fiedler’s suit, the killer locks him in his (the killer’s) cell as if the lynch-mob would know what cell the killer was in. Wouldn’t it maybe be the ONLY guy in the jail? The mob shows up and drags Fiedler out of the cell. They beat him unconscious, but the Officer shows up and runs them off. I guess it would have been too much to arrest a couple. Sixty years later, the Officer became Mayor of Portland. [4]
Another just about perfect episode. Well told and well cast. Fiedler is the perfect pusillanimous, high-pitched, panicky dweeb to sucker us in. [5] It also plays on Hitchcock’s familiar theme of being falsely arrested. The beautiful irony is that he was almost lynched for the crime he actually committed.