Sorry for the false alarm.
I created this as a placeholder a year ago for the impossibly futuristic date of 06/29/26.
Lights Out! — Curtain Call (02/12/51)
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Tag Archives: Tubi
Suspense — Collector’s Item (09/13/49)
I watched the uncut LOTR: Return of the King at Alamo Drafthouse in January. It was over 4 hours long and felt shorter than this episode. So did January.
Customer Marty is buying a vinyl record for $.75 which is shocking because, I half-expected a wax cylinder. The elderly record shop owner, Mr. Brockman [1] tells his clerk Fred that he is just the young fella to take over the shop. He then goes to get a haircut.
A shifty-looking guy enters the shop wearing a fedora and 1940’s suit, but I guess that wasn’t really suspicious in 1949. Fred profiles him as a Beethoven fan, providing the 2nd consecutive shout-out on this blog and, shockingly, neither refer to the dog.
The man — Mr. Evans — asks Fred when he gets off work. He gives Fred a wad of cash and his room number at the Griffin Hotel, and tells him to show up as soon as possible. He says he really needs Fred’s help. It is hard to believe there was once a more innocent time when this scene would not be viewed as squirmy as it seems now.
The shop’s upstairs neighbor comes down to complain about the noise from this awful TV show. She threatens to call the cops and leaves. Brockman comes back early because the barber was busy. Hey, it’s 1949 — just wear a hat! Fred is a good egg — he is genuinely worried about Mr. Evans, so goes to the hotel to make sure he is OK.
In the small hotel room there are several people, including a dame named Millie, his customer Marty, several gangstas, and Mr. Evans.
They grill Fred about what Evans invited him over for. Fred finally notices Mr. Evans is also there, covered in blood. His final words are a warning to Marty, “3-3 drums”.
Fred awakens alone to find Evans dead. Millie returns and warns him that the gang is trying to frame him. The police show up, so Millie and Fred escape to a diner. Millie says they were torturing Evans for government secrets and taking a $12 Snickers from the mini-fridge. Fred concludes it must have had something to do with the records.
They return to the shop where the neighbor is trying to lure Brockman upstairs for a nightcap, perhaps to cover his unkempt hair. Fred deduces that Evans was referring to a Drums album. Fred discovers that played at 78 rpm [2], the record sounds like drums, but played at 33 1/3 rpm, it recites the nuclear launch codes! And played at 45 rpm, it sounds like REM. [3]
Brockman is in on it. Evans was a G-man. A cop shows up in response to the neighbor’s noise complaint and hauls them all in.
A pretty sad showing for Suspense this week. At its relative best, the series is archaic and simplistic. This was just too much, or maybe too little. The story was LP-thin, the twist was Ludacris, and the background music muffled the dialogue. Most of the episodes so far at least tried to manufacture some suspense, but this was just very ♭.
I rate it 16 rpm. [4]
Other Stuff:
- [1] Julian Noa (Brockman) was born in 1879, before phonograph records were invented. Lon McCallister (Fred) died in 2005, so mostly outlived records.
- [2] Most of the records in the shop would have been 78’s. They had only started being replaced by 33 1/3’s in 1948.
- [3] The fastest song I could think of. Would also have accepted Flight of the Bumble Bee or Life is a Rock. That one is fun because you get excited when you can actually make out a couple of words — like with Bob Dylan in concert. BTW, I know 78 rpm is faster than 45 rpm, but it’s getting late.
- [4] 16 rpm was an actual standard that was an option on record-players of the day. Music historians believe it was a brief effort to silence the insufferable Miles Davis which failed (i.e. you could still hear the caterwauling [5] ). Scientists and humanitarians eventually found a solution in the 0 rpm format.
[5] Technically hep-caterwauling, I guess.
Lights Out! — Beware This Woman (12/04/50)
Taking the place of Science Fiction Theatre is a series that I do not remember at all despite it spanning 6 years. But then that is true of my college career also.
Famous scientist Dr. Lawson is alone in his bedroom, pumping away, when his housekeeper busts in.
Happily, we see that the cylindrical object in his hand is a tire pump. Mrs. Abernathy chastises him for blowing up an air mattress every night rather than an inflatable woman or, say, buying a mattress. He claims this is a time-saver. Note to self . . .
A young woman has come to visit him. Mrs. Abernathy says she arrived riding a strange four-legged animal with a sharp horn.
The woman suddenly appears in Lawson’s bedroom and introduces herself as Mercy Device. He replies, “Well, there’s not much I can do about that”. Her name and his reply already display more wit than most shows covered here. There might be some hope for this one.
She asks if he will spend the weekend with her at her house in Wakefield. She assures him there will be no shenanigans, although the O’Flanagans might drop by for some backyard Camogie [1]. No, her request is due to the intrusion of a poltergeist. Because who wants an uninvited guest suddenly appearing in their bedroom late at night, disturbing their routine?
Dr. Lawson seems to be unfamiliar with the term, or maybe he just put it out of his mind after seeing the godawful 2015 remake. She describes it as an imp, a ghost which has fastened itself to her and gives her no peace. Kudos for him amusingly looking her over before she tells him it is invisible.
As a man of science, he suggests that she take her story to the “fakers” at the Psychical Research Trust (PRT). Shockingly, they only wanted to exploit her story in the media for big bucks. After hearing their bullshit, she is appealing as a last resort to legitimate scientists for accurate, non-biased information, like the media did 5 years after COVID. Some of the media.
He agrees to spend the weekend at her place. She says her car is right outside, although Mrs. Abernathy still insists she arrived on some sort of horned beast.
No, it doesn’t
Upon Lawson arriving at Mercy’s place, the poltergeist immediately begins showing off. He is subjected to flying papers, books, and dishes. It even speaks — in a man’s voice even though Mercy had named it Caprice [insert trans reference here] [3]. After witnessing all of this evidence, Dr. Lawson breaks with his life-long distinguished academic and scientific experience and kisses a girl.
However, she has already called the “fakers” from MSNBC PRT for an alt-reality opinion. Dr. Lawson invites an actual scientist — Dr. Pearly — to consult. After seeing some witch-like symptoms in Mercy and learning she comes from Salem, Pearly and Lawson take a roadtrip.
Consulting the Salem County Clerk, they learn that a witch named Mercy Device was hung in 1682. She actually still has a debt on the books. In a law that we should revive, Mercy Device was billed for “the cost of the hanging, a new gallows, and food for the magistrate.” Although, under the new law, I propose that we require payment in advance.
I’d like to think that bandage placed right in the middle of his forehead was an intentional bit of whimsy. It’s the first episode — a fella can dream . . .
Lawson magnanimously pays the debt, so “Caprice” disappears back to the lady poltergeists’ locker-room. This also “cures” Mercy of being a witch, although I’m still not clear why that was such a burden on her other than riding a horned beast. [2]
Lawson asks Mercy to marry him, and there is some 4th wall breakage: Dr. Lawson literally closes a tiny curtain on the scene and, presumably, Mercy test-drives her new horned beast.
This series predates the antediluvian Suspense by 3 years, yet somehow seems a little fresher. There is less of the intrusive organ. The dialogue is snappier. The actors are not hamming it up like they are playing to the back row of a theater.
Ironically, though, I felt like I was watching a stage production. Like a few episodes before it, it is OK for the time, but even that is grading on one big-ass curve.
Other Stuff:
- [1] No, me neither.
- [2] Present day Mercy is not actually related to the Mercy from 1682. When she was executed, OG Mercy cast a curse on anyone named Mercy Device. Really? That seems to be some crazy narrow-casting. What were the odds anyone ever would be named that?
- And why curse anyone with her name, anyways? Why not cast a much larger net by using the magistrate’s name? Bartholomew Gedney? Oh.
- [3] Not an oversight — I was in a grammatical corner than I couldn’t make work at 4:55 am. BTW, I asked MS Copilot about the name Caprice and it said the name was derived from the word caprice. Thanks AI! Oooh, I’m so scared of you!
- There seems to be a lot of info missing on the series. This appears as the very first episode on Tubi, but is listed as Season 3 Episode 15 on IMDb.
- Veronica Lake (Mercy) was last seen in I Married a Witch. She first appeared here in Flight Overdue.
- Glen Denning (Lawson) did not have much of a career. That is too bad, because he was good in this role which vaguely channeled Cary Grant in Bringing Up Baby.
- Director Laurence Schwab had another one of those bizarre IMDb careers: He directed 52 episodes of TV — 49 of them 1949 – 1951.
- Oddly, there are a mere combined five other credits for writers Grace Amundson and Douglas Wood Gibson. Compared to Suspense, Science Fiction Theatre, or Tales of Tomorrow, this was Shakespeare.
One Step Beyond — Doomsday (10/13/59)
Well, yes. Yes, John Newland, I have. While One Step Beyond has proven to be a very good series, its repeated trips to the same tiny tract of genre real estate is a weakness. Yes, I finally gave up on the slice of pizza metaphor.
In 17th century Scotland — because OSB disdains the US more than a 21st century Ivy League student — the Earl of Culdane barges in demanding to see “Mr. Physician”. Hey, he didn’t go to barber school for a fortnight and change his name to Physician to be called Mister! [1]
The doctor says, “Your son is dying, my Lord do-lang-do-lang-do-lang”. [2] The Earl is outraged, but Mr. Dr. proudly says in his defense, “I have bled the boy seven times with leach and lancet”. Shockingly, the Earl is not convinced. He is a man of science, so suggests it is more likely his son was bewitched by a girl in the village.
The woman, Catherine, was found dancing gleefully in a field. Then it began to rain — a rarity that happens only about 300 times a year in the Highlands! The prosecutor also claims to have seen her turn milk sour, and saw “imps flying in the air above her head!” The judge has heard enough. Despite no evidence of a crime, an accusor deranged by the death of his son, and a prosecutor on a literal witch hunt, the corrupt judge finds her guilty so that she can cast no more spells or run for President.
This was not her being sentenced to death — The Earl just told her she’d be pretty if she smiled.
As she is dragged from the courtroom, she screams that just as the Earl outlived his son, all of his decendents will also outlive their first born-sons! Ya know, I was kind of on her side, but since this curse comes true for the next 200 years, I guess she really was a witch! Although, like all witches, she did not make it rain when she was being burned alive. To be fair, I guess she couldn’t dance what with being tied to the stake.
In the present day, first-born William has come to be with his father who is on his death-bed after having “an accident” on his death-futon. The doctor says he has only an hour to live. These cheap-ass Scots really wait until the last minute to get doctors involved. Given the family history over the last eight generations, this obviously sends William into a panic. He wonders how this can be possible since he is in great health and only 28 years old. [3] He does everything right: Sugary Dr. Peppers at 10, 2, and 4, only the best scotch kept in his office at work, driving unencumbered in the front seat of his new Corvair, and smoking 3 packs a day of doctor-recommended Lucky Strikes — they’re toasted, for God’s sake!
He refuses to take a sedative from the doctor, although does risk being swallowed whole by this enormous emasculating chair.
While he is simpering alone, his wife comes in and tells him that his father has died, breaking the curse. Then she and the doctor roofie his drink. Before he can drink it, however, he goes into his father’s room and sees that it was a ruse! His father is still alive!
This so startles William that he staggers backwards right over the balcony. John Newland states the odds of all the son-first deaths being coincidence is a billion to one. The odds of two dudes accidentally falling backwards to their death from an open window or balcony in back-to-back episodes on this blog is also unlikely. However, if Alfred Hitchcock Presents pulls this crap next week (i.e. or maybe in seven months), now that will be a billion to one!
So, another well-done episode.
Other Stuff:
[1] Wiki: Monasteries had to train or hire a barber. They would perform bloodletting and minor surgeries, pull teeth and prepare ointments. The Middle Ages saw a proliferation of barbers, among other medical “paraprofessionals”, including cataract couchers, herniotomists, lithotomists, midwives, and pig gelders. Cool.
[2] I would have gone for shoo-lang, but the internet is always right.
[3] The actor is actually 39. Freak’n actors, man.
We have a new contender for oldest actor covered here. Lumsden Hare (The Judge) was born in 1875.
Hollywood Royalty: Donald Harron (Jamie and William) played Charlie, the KORN radio announcer, on Hee Haw. His daughter directed American Psycho.
Suspense — Help Wanted (06/14/49)
One good thing about Suspense is that there is no time excruciatingly wasted by the odious Cryptkeeper or odious crypt-occupier Henry Rollins. [1] Alfred Hitchcock was great in that capacity, but there isn’t enough of him to go around. Well, not without making a big mess, anyway.
Mrs. Griffen comes to Mr. Crabtree’s apartment to collect his past due rent. He assures her that he will pay the 18 months due once he gets a job. Since he is 64, it better be soon. She gives him 2 weeks notice.
Sadly, he is supporting his daughter’s residency at a fancy private, er . . . spa that has 500 thread-count walls. He has done everything he can to conserve money — did a reverse mortgage, sold his life insurance policy, claimed he would move to Camp LeJeune 1953 – 1987, and bought gold from that 10 year old Devane kid downstairs.
A young woman [2] listed on IMDb as Mrs. X (née Mrs. Twitter) knocks on his door and offers to pay him for his services, which is opposite the transaction that I’m used to. But, to be fair, she is responding to a job application he sent in, not a card shoved at me on Las Vegas Boulevard. I mean him. I said me, but I meant him.
The job specifically calls for an old dude with an accounting background so that he is used to the tedium. The hours are the same as his odds of living to see Ike elected: 9 to 5. It pays $100/week which, sure, sounds princely — but that is for 6 days. He is really being paid to not do a goddam thing — like George Costanza with the Pinsky File, Sherlock Holmes’ Red-Headed League, or a University Presidentette. [3]
After leaving Crabtree, she calls Mr. X whose name she unwisely took at marriage. Mostly, she just compliments herself on her Marlingesque [4] performance.
Crabtree goes to his new job and admires his name on the door. Inside, he finds a small office with a large window, no visitor chairs, a desk nailed to the floor, a calendar, and a cat. And get this — all of these are important to the story! I’d say Suspense was ahead of its time, but I’m not sure most shows today are that well-crafted. Kudos!
Hey, for an office with no chairs, something looks pretty sit-able there!
Six months later, Mr. X finally visits the office. Crabtree says he is happy to meet him at long last. X reveals that the reports Crabtree submits are routinely burned without reading, like Kristi Noem’s unsold books in her publisher’s warehouse. Crabtree was actually hired to assist Mr. X in, as he puts it, “a very ingenious murder.” Boy, that X family really thinks a lot of themselves!
X marks the spot by saying the target is Mrs. X’s first husband — X’s Ex, who is blackmailing them. He is threatening to accuse Mrs. X of being a bigamist. Mr. X is a public figure and such an accusation back then would ruin them.
Later that day, as X told him, a man arrives asking for a “contribution”.
Spoiler!
What follows is one of those situations where writing it out would take forever, and be even more tedious than usual. Shockingly, this is because it is a good, twisty episode.
Of course it is primitive, and the organ is still overwrought and intrusive. However, there was a creativity in this series that was missing from, oh say, Science Fiction Theatre. As frequently happens, I’ll never watch it again, I can’t recommend it, but this was a great episode . . . grading on a curve of Sweeneyesque magnitude, of course. Well done, Suspense!
Other Stuff:
[1] Honestly, I thought I read he had died recently. Also, WordPress Blocks is garbage. It took me forever to figure out how to make the icon appear to create the [1] super-script. At least Adobe gave me the option to roll back their update which is a massive, chaotic piece of shit.
[2] Well, relatively young. Otto Kruger (Crabtree) is in contention for oldest actor I’ve covered yet — born in 1885.
BTW, the landlady is played by 70’s mainstay Ruth McDevitt. I say 70’s mainstay not because of the numerous 1970’s TV series she appeared in, but because her age stayed in the 70’s throughout her entire decades-long career. Like Burt Mustin, she seems to have been born at age 75.
[3] Certainly there is no reason a woman can’t do this job, but why is every moron university president that makes the news a woman?
[4] Referring, of course, to my favorite actress Brit Marling. I stand by that despite her last effort, which was literally years in the making, being a collosal bore.
I see the short story Help Wanted was later adapted as an episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents (five episodes before I started this nonsense).