Reviews

I have a vague recollection of this episode, which I saw on TV in the early 1970s when I was about 12 years old. Though played for laughs, the idea that Ann should appear nude in a film gave the episode an erotic charge for adolescent viewers like myself and, I dare say, for red-blooded male viewers generally. It was a more innocent time, after all, although mores were changing.

I vividly remember the scene in which Ann expresses relief when the director assures her she will be wearing something in the scene in question. Ann thanks him profusely, saying she doesn't mind in the least what the article of clothing might be--as long as it preserves her modesty. But her elation is short-lived when he presents it to her. If memory serves, it was either a gold necklace or a gold chain to be worn around her waist.

Does Ann go ahead with the scene? I won't say. But the anticipation of it lets our imaginations run wild.

In an unusual outing for The Saint, our hero conspires with the aunt of a spoilt heiress to teach her petulant charge some good manners by forcing her to accompany him on a 10-day trek by foot across Spain. The ostensible reason for this act of altruism on Simon's part is that the heiress is betrothed to his best friend. The aim, evidently, is to reform the woman-child before she inflicts a lifetime of misery on her husband-to-be.

The heiress is an utterly obnoxious, self-entitled brat, continually throwing tantrums when she doesn't get her way. She thoroughly deserves everything Simon metes out to her in this latter day Taming of the Shrew. Inevitably some critics will accuse the scriptwriters of sexism, misogyny, and a host of other gender crimes merely because the brat is a woman and her tormentor a man. I think that's humbug. If the shoe were on the other foot, and a stern matron was teaching a few home truths to a self-absorbed playboy, the same critics would be chortling with glee.

Not a bad episode, but it hardly ranks among the best. To me the biggest puzzle is what could have possessed Simon's friend to have proposed marriage to such a spoilt, narcissistic bimbo. He must have been hard up for cash or blinded by her feminine charms. In either case, he owes Simon more than he can know.

Hawaii Five-O was on its last legs in Season 12 and had been on a steady decline since the departure of Chin Ho Kelly at the end of Season 10. Nevertheless most of the remaining episodes are still worth watching, including "School for Assassins."

The story-line centres on a politically sensitive meeting scheduled to take place between oil billionaire Jack Ellington and a high-ranking official of OPEC, Sheikh Ahmed Bishara. Five O provides the security detail for Ellington, who is believed to be at risk of abduction. Meanwhile a training school for professional assassins, headed by a Colonel Avery, ably played by veteran Canadian-born actor Lloyd Bochner, is preparing to strike.

A charming, if unlikely, element of the story is the interaction between Ellington and Jennifer Fair, a tourist on holiday from the mainland. Ellington is portrayed as a forlorn figure. Burdened by the demands of running the business empire he inherited, he is wistful about the opportunities he has missed to enjoy the simple pleasures of life, including romance. Played convincingly by Monte Markham, Ellington cuts a sympathetic figure. He seems genuinely taken by his chance encounter with the fair Miss Fair. When he accidentally meets her again on Wakiki Beach, the buxom Miss Fair is clad in a skimpy string bikini. Since Ellington has evidently led a sheltered life, it's no wonder he falls for her. They repair to a beach-side bar for a drink, at which point dramatic events ensue.

While a pale imitation of the series' best days, this episode is action-packed, suspenseful, and even poignant.

After several disappointing episodes following the departure of veterans Chin Ho Kelly and Danny Williams, "Use a Gun, Go to Hell" is a welcome, if temporary, return to some of the best features of the series. Those include half-crazed small-time hoods, a strained father-son relationship, an attempted cover-up, and a surprise ending. The main characters are well cast, Andrew Duggan and Richard Dmitri having made guest appearances in previous episodes.

Another reviewer faults McGarrett for making speeches against lax gun control laws and for doing so in a ham-fisted way. But McGarrett's conduct in this respect is entirely in keeping with his character. In fact it has been a hallmark of McGarrett throughout the series to rail against the evils of organized crime, contract killings, and the drug trade. If he seems sanctimonious and didactic at times, that's a well established part of his persona. Driven by a passionate loathing of senseless violence and of those who commit it, McGarret is often moved to lecture crime bosses, plus less seasoned felons, on the harm they do to society. Subtlety is not a quality one associates with McGarrett.

Given the epidemic of gun violence that afflicts the United States, this episode is bold and insightful in its depiction and condemnation of Americans' dangerous addiction to guns. In fact its message has never been more compelling given the power wielded today by the NRA, a truly malignant organization. In that respect, the episode stands up remarkably well.

"At the Circus" will always be regarded by purists as one of the Marx Brothers' lesser efforts. Fortunately, the Marx Brothers on a bad day are still funnier and more original than most comedians today. As usual, Groucho has lots of great one-liners, delivered in his inimitable style. His best repartee is in his scenes with Margaret Dumont, the stately lady who serves as his perennial foil. Eg, in one scene, Groucho barges into the lady's bedchamber, prompting this exchange:

Dumont: "You must leave my room. We must have regard for certain conventions."

Groucho: (to the audience) "One guy isn't enough. She's got to have a convention!"

Earlier in the film, Groucho sings his famous song, "Lydia, the Tattooed Lady." That alone is worth the price of admission. Chico also performs a lively piano piece and Harpo has one of his signature turns on the harp.

There are plenty of hilarious scenes in the film. My favourite is the scene in which Groucho and Chico interview the circus midget in his trailer. Naturally the furniture and the room itself are built on a miniature scale. In another scene, Groucho attempts to retrieve a wallet full of stolen cash from a buxom woman, who discreetly slips it into her bra. As Groucho ponders the situation, he says to the audience: "There must be some way I can get that money back without getting in trouble with the Hays Office" (the film censorship board). In another scene, Chico and Harpo search the cabin of the circus strongman as he sleeps. At one point, Harpo crawls under the mattress, with the strongman on top. As a result, every time the strongman shifts position, Harpo's horn sounds off!

"At the Circus" is a fun-filled romp that is sure to delight youngsters and grown-ups alike. I certainly enjoyed it.

Though not one of the Marx Brothers' better known films, "Room Service" is well worth seeing nonetheless. Originally a stage play, it has the distinction of being the only Marx Brothers' film that wasn't originally written by or for the Brothers. However, the film adaptation is seamlessly tailored for the Marxes' stock characters: Groucho, the glib con-man; Chico, the deceptively simple Italian caricature; and Harpo, their anarchic collaborator. The film is very well written, with lots of hilarious gags and pratfalls. Especially memorable is the scene in which the brothers put on multiple layers of clothes as they prepare to decamp their hotel room without paying the bill. Even funnier is the scene in which the brothers, not having eaten for days, frenetically polish off a meal they had arranged to be diverted to their room. Watch Harpo as he madly harpoons peas with his fork and devours them one by one, like a ravenous automaton! In an earlier scene, the boys chase a flying turkey around the hotel room, hoping to make a meal of it. Alas, it flies out the window, whereupon Groucho says, "Never mind, we didn't have any cranberry sauce anyway!"

Unfortunately, the film lacks the usual piano and harp numbers by Chico and Harpo. Regrettable too is the absence of Margaret Dumont, Groucho's legendary "straight woman." Even so, the film is great fun--pure escapism!