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Reviews
Have Gun - Will Travel: The Tax Gatherer (1961)
Death and Taxes
This middling episode is very dark comedy. There are nice things in it. It's fun to have Western vets Raymond Hatton, Roy Barcroft, and Harry Carey, Jr. on hand. Director Boone seems to have delighted in having Carey and Barcroft try to upstage each other in their scenes together. The riverside location for the 2nd half is striking. Paladin is written at his most straightforward mercenary, matter-of-factly gunning down would be killers, and this depiction is refreshingly honest and played w/o ceremony. However, despite the grim humor, it's an episode w/o lasting impact or the series' signature complex considerations of conscience that mark its best moments. Oh, well, there's something to be said for a tough, lean study in greed, even if it isn't Emmy material.
In the Dough (1933)
Late, and Somewhat Wistful
The Vitaphone shorts that Roscoe Arbuckle made at the end of his career (and his life) unfailingly make me wistful. Oh, they're amusing enough, even if they're rarely more ambitious than the Keystone comedies from which Fatty came. It's the thought, though, that just when Arbuckle was emerging again as a film comedian after an unjust scandal ruined him, he passed away. (Seeing 1932 Brooklyn, where this was shot, makes me more wistful still.) Arbuckle's quite winning in "In the Dough." He's still light on his feet, his timing is solid, and, no matter what dumb thing he does, he remains likable throughout. The familiarity of the material--including repeating a group dough fight with little variation--doesn't detract too much from his performance. (Destined for better things, Lionel Stander and Shemp Howard, while game, don't come off quite as fortunate.) One could see in Arbuckle's future a career as a valued, even beloved character player, perhaps in the stock company of Leo McCarey, Frank Capra or Preston Sturges. Alas, it was not to be...
Naked City: Down the Long Night (1960)
In the Mind and On Location
While there is effective NYC location shooting (a series hallmark)in this episode, it's not the Gotham-specific police procedural standard for this series, but more a duel of wits and consciences that would have been at home in ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS. One comes away from this episode unsure as who was a villain and who was a victim, and that is another hallmark of this series: at its best, the stories it tells are about complex humans, and not mere cops and crooks. I was initially stunned to see Charles Beaumont (most often associated with fantasy, including THE TWILIGHT ZONE)credited as the writer. However, Ivar's fascination with instilling fear as a kind of moral education, and his use of it to reveal Garry's guilt, bears Beaumont's brand. Persoff was exceptional in portraying the smiling sinister Evar, balancing his performance on a knife's edge between sadist and righteous avenger. Nielsen was less successful, if only because his character has less shading: Garry is shallow and callow from the start, and even if he truly believes his protestations of innocence, it simply never convinces. The fun house climax looks convincingly dangerous, and I'd wager actors today would insist on CGI fire--and I wouldn't fault them.
Peter Gunn: The Hunt (1960)
It's All in the Mine
One can't help wondering if "The Hunt" originated with someone giving Edwards and Co. a tip about a really great location just outside L.A. As plots for this show go, this is not the most clever and certainly even more implausible than most, but it scores by diverting markedly from its usual comfortable formula. The gas station sequence offers seriocomic suspense worthy of Hitchcock. Solid pro Arnold wins the agoraphobia award with expert staging and storytelling in the superbly stark setting of the 2nd half. I'd be curious to learn of any other example in TV history of an executive producer casting himself to put a hit on his own star.
Peter Gunn: Spell of Murder (1960)
Potpourri Pete (Be Warned: Many, Many Spoilers)
This episode has so many odd elements in it, that it almost seems as if everyone involved made a suggestion for inclusion, and no matter how wild it was, it WAS included. The circus commences with a cockatoo and a cat witnessing a shooting. Then the nephew of the shooting victim practically sings an aria announcing that he's a red herring. The widow of the late, prime suspect is figuratively crippled by grief, but can't bring herself to cry. A bartender gives Pete a succinct discourse on capital vs. labor in a bottle. Pete's client, obviously entranced, is blown up by a shoebox. Pete, looking down a long flight of stairs, has a conversation with a bar owner, looking up. A landlady semaphores to Pete that his bribe could buy more than a passkey. The client's blackmailer turns out to be his hypnotist, who conveniently details all of his crimes while dying in a Hollywood rainstorm after Pete, understandably unhappy after too close a shave, punches him off a fire escape. Phew! That's quite a lot to happen in 25 minutes, and while the whole thing isn't remotely plausible, it's so playfully directed and every part (except Pete and Edie) is such a tender slice of ham that I found myself entranced (but not explosively so) by it anyway. It's almost as if a script for Steed and Mrs. Peel of THE AVENGERS had been ruthlessly revised for PETER GUNN.
Have Gun - Will Travel: The Fatalist (1960)
Have Torah, Will Testify
This fourth season opener is one of my favorite episodes of the series. It features a lovely performance by Martin Gabel as a Jewish peddler whose devout principles compel him to testify against an accused killer at any cost. He initially holds Paladin, as a "hired killer," brought in by his daughter to protect him, in contempt, but the two men develop a grudging, mutual respect. The byplay between Gabel and Boone is delightful, and the script by Shimon Wincelberg offers them rich dialogue. A quite scary Bobby Blake is an added plus. The stunning--almost laughable--way that Paladin survives an apparent shooting at the climax strains credulity, but the episode is too strong to be hurt much by it. You'll remember the fine closing dinner scene instead.
Naked City: A Hole in the City (1961)
Before The Bronx was Burning...
The extremely well-used South Bronx locations (RIP, original Yankee Stadium) alone made this a winner for me. (Please note MY location. ;) ) Watching NAKED CITY--after all, a show from over 50 years ago--I sometimes think it indulges in orgies of gun play too often and at too great a length. (I realize that this comment, in light of the firepower casually depicted on TV today, seems ludicrous. But, remember, it was 1960...) There are probably as many shots fired in this episode as in any other in the series. The brutality of the opening and during the siege was--and is--very strong stuff for its time. But, as so often is the case, well-staged action aside, it's the human story that makes this one truly special. The stunning first flashback, with its very theatrically-lit transition, was breathtaking. Both newcomer Duvall and old pro Sidney were spot-on in portraying the small family slights and misunderstandings that can lead to ruin and tragedy. The ending--if I may be so bold--does presage a number of Peckinpah climaxes, no? So, maybe this episode is more anticipatory of the changes that the '60s and '70s would soon wreak on NYC and mass media than I first thought...
Peter Gunn: Fill the Cup (1960)
A Most Remarkable Client
Over his first 50 or so episodes, Peter Gunn certainly had some unusual clients with extraordinary requests. However, Wilson Getty (a name that certainly hints at a prestigious past) is, heretofore in this entertaining but formulaic series, one-of-a-kind. One could argue that a low-budget, 25-minute detective show is hardly the venue for an effective exploration of alcoholism, but, actually, in its hard, even brutal, depiction of one night in Getty's life, the simple, quick, and lean modus operandi of PETER GUNN works surprisingly, even shockingly, well. It truly is John McIntire's show, with Stevens providing sturdy and, ah, sober, support. Used to McIntire's strong-as-an-oak characters in THE ASPHALT JUNGLE or WAGON TRAIN, I found his portrayal of the sick, self-loathing Getty to be very moving, indeed. I actually think the DT hallucination opening and later inserts are unnecessary. And this might have been an episode where close ups should have been kept to a minimum. For McIntire's naked performance is truth enough in medium shot. As to the ending, well, I will admit that it's a very clever way of suggesting that, for an alcoholic, each new day really is a test...one day at a time...
Peter Gunn: Keep Smiling (1959)
Hey! What's with the bow-tie?
This is a case where the plot has to be forcibly wedged into a half-hour show, but all concerned are game anyway, and the episode has some lovely bits. Gunn is a stylish detective who usually operates in decidedly not stylish parts of town, but it's amusing seeing him meet a client (played with hilarious propriety by Jackie Coogan!) at a cacophonous bowling alley, nicely shot on location. Then, to root out murderous blackmailers, he and Jacoby (the ONLY cop in town) go undercover as hick bowlers. Gunn, bedecked with bow-tie and decidedly NOT his usual slick suit, upon sighting the femme fatale, goes all out as a potential mark. Stevens looks like he's having a whale of a time playing small town, and the extended meet scene between him and Mara Corday is the best thing in the episode. In the scene, director Jack Arnold emphasizes the comedy with effective reaction cutaways to Bernardi. The choice of murder weapon in the teaser thuds home the down market milieu of the episode. And, Jacoby fires off yet another shot. (He's already fired his gun more times in the first season than some entire big city police forces do in a year.) All in all, if hardly in the first rank, this is a diverting variation on the usual format of the series.
Peter Gunn: The Chinese Hangman (1958)
Gunn the Giant Killer
Man, but this is a wild episode! Whatever else can be said about this series, Edwards & Co. weren't afraid to shake up the format, and didn't let their tight budget hamper their imaginations. This is a very busy and colorful 25 minutes, opening with the usual snappy murder, but branching out soon enough to a cult's estate (Bernardi's Jacoby characteristically nailing the racket.) and then Gunn venturing to Europe. Backlot it may all be, but surprisingly well-rendered. The climactic fight is simply unbelievable--as often happens in GUNN, the need to wrap things up fast can lead to jaw dropping neatness--but it's certainly briskly staged. I can't decide if Stevens' narration is nicely noir or simply corny, but in this whirlwind of an episode, it comes in handy.
Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea: Fatal Cargo (1967)
Silly But Satisfying
This is my second favorite episode (after "Fires of Death") of the admittedly often tired and tacky last season of VTTBOTS. It's quite a simpleminded and silly episode, even by VOYAGE standards. However, it's rather fun and has a few real assets. Chief among them is the very lively performance by Janos Prohaska as the albino ape, in a suit of his own design. Realistic? Perhaps not. But impressive nonetheless. Next is the expertly craven turn by Woodrow Parfrey as the scheming Brock, complete with very '60's homing pen, a device he uses to match ape to victim. Third is the adept reuse of Jerry Goldsmith's score from "Jonah and the Whale." This episode can't hold a candle to that one, VOYAGE'S finest hour, but the music works surprisingly well amidst these hi-jinx. The plot is simply nuts. (Just what advantage could there be in the doomed scientist's rather inhumane effort to control the ape?)But Basehart seems relatively engaged, especially in his hilariously skeptical scenes with Parfrey.
Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea: Leviathan (1965)
Fine Eye Candy...but Kinda Thick, Too
LEVIATHAN was one of the high points of VOYAGE's first color--and apparently most popular--season, and is one of my favorite episodes of the series. This is almost wholly due to the concluding quarter of the episode, which displays some very impressive underwater model and stunt work. The first three quarters are sluggish and repetitive and full of the blatant suspensions of logic that consistently mar Allen's series. Indeed, LEVIATHAN is a capsule of the strengths and weaknesses of VOYAGE. Strong visuals, admirably straight-faced acting, and stirring music (Alex Courage channeling Bernard Herrmann) are complemented by simplistic plotting, appalling dialogue, and absurd science. Much as I enjoy watching a model Seaview moving amidst real sea creatures (rather rare in the series, actually) the hallucination gimmick cooked up by writer Welch quickly wears out its welcome, especially with added tinted giant creature footage recycled from the first season. Welch would prove a master of recycling--ad nauseum--in the ensuing seasons. As the Bondmania spy episodes petered out, this was clearly a model--for better or worse--for the more juvenile 3rd and 4th years. The rather shabby script treatment of Karen Steele's Cara--from the snarky misogyny of the first scene in the crew's mess, to the inane device of her doctoring the salt, and her abrupt, off-camera demise--captures quite well Allen's disdain for women in VOYAGE. It's very hard to even FIND a woman in the last two seasons. Not that any of this troubled me when I first saw this as a nine-year-old boy--presumably Allen's target audience. I loved it--and LEVIATHAN still gives me considerable perverse pleasure today. Perhaps in demonstration of VOYAGE's influence on the more-esteemed STAR TREK, compare this episode to the latter's WHO MOURNS FOR ADONIS? from its 2nd year. Again, great visuals buttress a ridiculous script about a really big guy who manhandles the starring vessel. Equally irresistible, though. ;)
Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea: The Return of the Phantom (1966)
2nd Season of VOYAGE ends as well as it began
With its move to Sunday nights opposite WALT Disney, it became obvious, as the 2nd season of VOYAGE progressed, that Irwin Allen & Co. had decided that the show was best targeted at children. Plots were rid of adult situations and moral complexities in favor of simpler fantasies. By season 3, VOYAGE was basically reduced to monster-of-the-week. Ah, but this sequel to THE PHANTOM STRIKES! was a last nod to more nuanced fare.The episode is not only scary, but heavily flavored with a fatal romanticism. Not only does it feature David Hedison's most interesting performance in the series, but one of Richard Basehart's, too. Hedison expertly expresses Kreuger's long-denied hunger for his lost love. Basehart shines when Nelson,the supreme rationalist, faced not only with having shot his friend Crane, but witnessing the latter's possession by Kreuger's ghost, practically suffers a nervous breakdown. It's strong stuff for VOYAGE, far stronger than anything in its remaining seasons. And hooray for Vitina as Lani: incredibly just about the very last speaking part for a woman in the series!
The Big Noise (1944)
Not a Bomb By Any Means
For years, I avoided seeing Stan and Ollie in THE BIG NOISE, after reading in book after book that the film was the worst they ever made, and without value. However, finally, begrudgingly, I saw it--not once, but twice--and with pleasure!!! Not only is it by far not the worst of their post-Hal Roach films (The two MGMs are far duller, and the first few Fox entries are buried under tiresome plots.), but it certainly compares favorably with their lesser Roach features (like SWISS MISS)and shorts (Are there any fans of BE BIG and THE LAUREL AND HARDY MURDER CASE out there?). Yeah, the Boys reprise quite a few old routines in this film (Screenwriter Scott Darling apparently mining their filmography mercilessly.), but then that wasn't uncommon at Roach either. I rather liked the wacky inventions like the compressed full course meal and the automated room. The supporting cast is bright with welcome players like Esther Howard, Phil van Zandt, and Arthur Space. I'll admit that the high-flying "patriotic" ending leaves this 21st Century film-goer cold. But any film that has so much leisurely L&H byplay (stuff like hat switching, stubborn door locks, and so many Hardy camera looks of exasperation)is simply no bomb, by any reasonable measure. I'll go so far as to say that--against conventional wisdom--it just might be my favorite of the (admittedly sorry)later Laurel and Hardys.
La cena (1998)
A Rich and Varied Repast
I quite disagree with Michele. LA CENA is a fulfilling experience, and quite up to my favorites by Scola, such as LA NUIT DE VARENNES. Like that masterpiece, LA CENA demands an attentive audience, one astute enough to follow disparate conversations among characters who clearly have lives before and after the period covered in the film. I laughed quite a bit, shed a few tears, and liked the fact that, while a few of the characters stories were resolved after a fashion, most were left open, as you would expect in a trattoria with such a Roman cross section. Welcome old pros Giannini (who has a wonderful explosion of temper), Sandrelli (who provides an aching portrait of ageing vanity),and Gassmann (who gives a pungent running commentary on the evening) are terrific, but the radiant Fanny Ardant (fabulous down to her very red shoes) was the one who made me wish that there really was such a place to drop into next time I'm in Rome...
Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1964)
Hey, what idiot set off all these fireworks in the Control Room?
Like seemingly everyone here, I adored VOYAGE as a child, but watching it today sure makes it easy to see why, say, the first STAR TREK series is fondly remembered, even revered, while VOYAGE is but a footnote of Sixties TV.
The chief reason is that, after four years and over a hundred episodes, not one character--not Admiral Nelson, not Lee Crane, not Chip Morton, not Sharkey, and certainly not Kowalski--is developed to the slightest degree. We knew as much (or as little) about these guys in 1968 as we did in 1965. Their dialogue was interchangeable. Their motivations for doing anything seemed driven purely by turn of the thin plots, and never by character. (Of course, this is true of EVERY Irwin Allen series--and,heck, all his movies, too. Character NEVER really interested him much.)
Another reason is the almost mind bending repetition in VOYAGE. The series fell into ruts that were beyond belief. There were the episodes that seemed nothing but monsters (mummy, fossil men, seaweed men, silver painted aliens)shambling through the roomy corridors. They never failed to visit the reactor room and the circuitry room and the missile room. (Time for another futile brawl! Cue the sparklers!) There were the shows where someone is impersonating Nelson or Crane or both or neither and after 52 minutes who the hell cared! Too many weeks, some oversize menace wrestled the Seaview until every sparkler in the Control Room was set off. And every week Allen trotted out the "dinosaur" from THE LOST WORLD or the imploding submarines from the VOYAGE feature. I'm surprised he never sneaked the Jupiter 2 or the Time Tunnel aboard (Although couldn't you just see Richard Basehart as Admiral Nelson's dyspeptic reaction to Jonathan Harris as Dr. Smith? Qh, the pain...the pain...!)
Having written all that, even I have some VOYAGE episodes I would rank up there with my favorites from STAR TREK, DR. WHO, and THE OUTER LIMITS for notable weirdness and perversity. How can I deny the bizarre pleasure of watching Michael Dunn in a clown suit roaming the Seaview with his Wax Men? What other show presented a potted orchid as a would-be world conqueror? And Harlan Ellison may have disowned it, but it's hard to beat his expanding plankton episode for sheer noise and confusion.
Yes, by all means let's have a new feature version of VOYAGE. But only if Rowan Atkinson can play Admiral Nelson at full steam and Bill Murray can enact Captain Crane at his deadpan best. And bring back the Two Eyeballs on Seaweed Monster...
Bad Day at Black Rock (1955)
Tracy--and this film--show that that LESS can be MORE...
What makes BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK so effective is its simplicity in plot, setting and staging. Black Rock looks like a movie set built in the desert; a strong gust will blow it away. Its residents, like the town, might as well be dead to the world--until the stranger played by Tracy gets off the Streamliner. Then, the town, practically a mirage in the desert, comes to life. (Indeed, BDaBR plays in this respect like a noir version of BRIGADOON, which MGM had recently adapted.) For Black Rock lives only to hide a shameful secret, and the stranger can only be a threat.... Tracy's dark-suited stranger is as enigmatic as the town whose stunned torpor he disturbs. His genial reticence is disconcerting, too. We learn that he has a secret as well, one that has driven him to get off his LA bound train in the middle of nowhere. He'd just as soon get the hell out and go on his way, but, though it lacks walls, Black Rock is a difficult place to leave.... One speculation I'd like to make is what the film would have been like if Tracy and Ryan had switched roles. Tracy was a beloved big MGM star in the mid-50s. When he gets off the train, despite his black garb, we side with him as much because he's Spencer Tracy as because he's alone in an immediately hostile town. Robert Ryan was especially adept at playing men seething with hatred (Think of his memorable turns in CAUGHT, CROSSFIRE, and ON DANGEROUS GROUND.). We dislike Ryan's Smith the very moment he meets the stranger.... Suppose, however, that the easily likable Tracy had played Smith, the maleficent puppeteer of Black Rock; and imagine Ryan, tall, edgy, more clearly uncomfortable in the claustrophobic town amidst the wide open spaces, as the stranger. The conflict in the film would have been more nuanced, more challenging for the audience. Could Tracy's Smith really be what Ryan's stranger says he is?... Such idle speculation aside, the film is a neat, taut piece of work. By all means see it widescreen. It loses power panned and scanned. And, hooray for Anne Francis! It's not easy being the lone woman in a cast of male scene stealers (Read: hams).