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Detroiters: Quick Rick Mahorn in Dearborn (2017)
Wall-to-Wall Ads Make for a Middling Finale
The very first Saturday Night Live episode I saw was hosted by Hugh Hefner, and his opening monologue was followed by Jane Curtin and Bill Murray in a mock commercial about a soap or skin cleanser that basically was supposed to lobotomize the wife. The sketch ended with Murray accidentally stepping on the end of a rake and clocking himself in the face.
Flashforward almost 40 years and host Jim Carrey parodying Matthew McConaughey's Cadillac ads. While the bit was funny, it struck me that the sketches were making fun of the ads, not the product (which, unlike the lobotomizing soap, was real) and could serve just as much as a commercial as the actual ads. Much of Detroiters' first-season finale, "Quick Rick Mahorn in Dearborn," felt like an ad for the various sponsors.
Tim and Sam's encounter with Carter Page (the Chrysler executive they ran over and left for dead in the pilot) at an awards ceremony distracts them from their work. Meanwhile, former Detroit Pistons star Rick Mahorn seeks to improve his acting after appearing in one of Tim and Sam's ads. As in the pilot, there were several references to Chrysler, as well as to Quicken Loans, Little Caesars Pizza, Doner Advertising, and the Planet Ant Theatre (where Tim Robinson and Sam Richardson performed over a decade ago). For all I know, there might actually be a Downriver Ale; I know Little Caesers and Chrysler exist if for no other reason than they ran actual ads during the episode on top of the fake ads during the awards ceremony. I'd be tempted to compliment the show on keeping the establishing shots to a minimum this week if I didn't suspect that might in part have been due to needing the time to plug the local businesses.
In some ways, the episode seemed to be trying to sum up the season with plenty of callbacks to gags in previous episodes. On the minus side, the episode didn't address any of the (potential) long-term plot threads raised in the course of season 1, such as: Sam's dream board, Tim and Leah's antagonism toward each other, why Tim and Sam put up with Sheila, their receptionist who lets people walk in on them unannounced and the previous week told Tim he wasn't
excrement, and whether Tim is married to Sam's sister because he's in love with Sam.
The biggest problem with "Quick Rick Mahorn in Dearborn" is the way the episode tried to split between Sam and Tim and Rick Mahorn. We've seen episodes where the action was split between Sam and Tim, but not between them and some character we've never met before. Presumably, the meat of the episode was Sam and Tim's reaction to what had happened to Carter Page since the pilot, and the attempt to tie Mahorn's quest to become a better actor--outside of promoting Planet Ant's improv classes--even for this show seemed a stretch.
The apex of season 1 for me was "Happy Birthday, Mr. Duvet," "3rd Floor," and "Smilin' Jack." While "Quick Rick Mahorn in Dearborn" wasn't the weakest episode, the flurry of callbacks to previous episodes and the heavy product placement felt like a step backward for the series overall and not a particularly strong climax to the season.
Have Gun - Will Travel: Unforgiven (1959)
Gave Me Cause to Reconsider Jay Simms as a Writer
Some writers blossom under certain producers or story editors, who presumably can cover their shortcomings better than others. The first Jay Simm-scripted Have Gun - Will Travel episodes I saw were "Caravan" and "The Black Bull" from season 6. I also hated Simms' sequel to "The Naked Gun." For a while, I've thought "The Black Hankerchief" was Jay Simms' best episode (and possibly by a fluke), but after having seen "Brother's Keeper" recently and "Unforgiven" this morning, I may be forced to reevaluate my estimation of Simms as a writer.
Paladin is summoned to the death bed of a colonel who had Paladin court-martialed during the Civil War. There's no love lost between the men, but for a (negotiated) price, Paladin agrees to deliver a message to a ex-partner of the colonel now living in a small town.
This is early season three, so Simms not only has Frank Pierson as the associate producer overseeing him, but producer Sam Rolfe as well, two very good writers in their own right, and the script showcases the best elements of Simms' HGHT's: Paladin coming into a small, isolated community and meeting several eccentric characters, chief among them this time, Hank Patterson as hired gunman Ronson.
Speaking of having first impressions changed, Patterson's appearances on this show are a revelation if all you know him from is Green Acres. Ronson is a simultaneously menacing, funny, and ultimately sad character. And at the risk of sounding like Donald Trump, the cinematography in the final scene, both in the lighting and the framing, is terrific, probably more impressive than anything directed Andrew McLaglen managed in any of his feature films.
I don't know why I've never watched this episode before, but having seen it now, it immediately shoots up into the pantheon of my top five favorite episodes (along with "The Man Who Lost," "The Outlaw," "El Paso Stage," and "The Man-Hunter"). It gets my highest recommendation.
Detroiters: Dream Cruise (2017)
Kind of a Stall
Leah's threatening to quit over Cramblin and Duvet's not having paid its health insurance premiums sets Tim and Sam on an odyssey to collect from past clients who haven't paid them.
Sam and Tim's "innocent viciousness" was thankfully on display this week, but it wasn't enough to buoy "Dream Cruise." Like the first few episodes, this episode was too provincial for my tastes. Some of the scenes (Mike Eshaq mocking how Sam and Tim laugh, the "Cash for Copper"/"On the Books" scene, and the Lawyer Mom scene) were brilliant. Some of the other scenes (specifically the Dream Cruise and the doctor visit montages) were mostly annoying time filler. This episode felt like a series of bits stuck together lacking a core. I recognized several of the locations, and I had no idea Diana Lewis' daughter was no longer an anchor, but what was there for viewers who aren't familiar with the Detroit area? The scene where Sam and Tim get caught in Dream Cruise traffic put me in mind of the auto show in the Jay Leno movie, Collision Course. Since when does the Dream Cruise wind through residential neighborhoods? Or maybe that's just the Detroiter in me.
What's wrong with "Dream Cruise" can be symbolized by the scene on Lawyer Mom's porch, when she's talking about "pay to play" porn sites and diverges into cartoon character porn. It sounds like a rant someone might have improvised and then decided to stick in the episode. Hilarious, but how does it fit in with the rest of the show? That's the difference between a good sketch and a good TV show episode. Not the worst episode, but definitely a step back after the previous three episodes.
And
scene.
Detroiters: Smilin' Jack (2017)
Crude, Awkward, Bipolar. And Yet...
Sam and Tim strike back at a couple who've dropped Crambling Advertising as their ad agency by securing their former client's main rival as an account.
"Smiling Jack" is possibly the episode closest in spirit to the pilot. It has almost everything I disliked about the first few episodes, but the timing of the more recent episodes. There are random shots of Detroit, but they're largely unobtrusive. As a native Detroiter, I recognized the below-street-level underpass adjacent to the old Michigan Central Station; was speculating in what building the restaurant scenes where Sam and Tim were courting Smiling Jack were shot (it seemed to be at the intersection of Woodward and Congress); wondered if the billboards of Smiling Jack (guest-star Keegan-Michael Key) were computer-generated; and wondered if Donut's sets were indeed shot inside Burt's Warehouse or if the interiors were shot at GoComedy! in Ferndale.
To be fair, the establishing shots weren't the travelogue-type shots of the pilot or "Hog Riders" and probably weren't distracting to non-Detroiter Detroiter viewers. The Mort Crim cameo works a lot better than his earlier appearances because, like the establishing shots, it doesn't draw attention to itself and plays off Crim's deadpan delivery, letting the humor of the premise speak for itself. And Gloria's wistful dreams of her and Irv's 30-foot bunk-bed prop with the blow-up pre-teen siblings plays a lot better than the Hot Tub King's epiphany about sexual positions in the pilot—the awkwardness is funny without actually feeling
awkward. In fact, that was possibly my favorite gag of the episode. (Jack's "forced perspective" line was pretty funny too.) The element that most reminded me of the pilot, though, is the, for lack of a better term, innocent viciousness that Tim and Sam displayed. Greeting Gloria and Irving like family when they drop into the office and then wishing disaster on and waging vendettas against clients who withdraw their accounts or splurging on the client's dime at a business lunch reminded me of their reaction to running the Chrysler executive over and trying to hide the body. It's anti-social behavior that you usually wouldn't see from the protagonists on a live-action network sitcom and behavior of the type I'd given up hope of seeing on this show again after the last few episodes. This is the kind of thing that could positively differentiate Detroiters from something like The Big Bang Theory.
My biggest complaint about "Smiling Jack" is that it's unclear what Donut's relationship to the Cramblings is. The episode starting with Donut Xeroxing flyers for his show and ending with him chanting his own name to himself with the crowd (which, like the receptionist's disapproving scowl at Tim and Sam being willing to see Gloria and Irv without an appointment, could have been the basis of a story in itself) helped tie the whole show together in a neat package, but how does Donut know Tim and Sam? Is he a co-worker of Chrissy on the assembly line? It's a minor, nagging quibble that can be resolved in passing during season 2 for all I care. As I said, not a big deal, but somewhat distracting nonetheless.
"Smiling Jack" repeats several motifs from the early episodes of Detroiters, but, combined with the subtleties displayed in the last few episodes, manages to elevate itself to the best episode so far and something I'm tempted to rewatch.
Detroiters: 3rd Floor (2017)
Surprisingly Topical While Still Bringing the Funny
Sam and Tim are dubious of a tech company moving into their building and being heralded as the saviors of Detroit.
The most enduring lesson I took from college is probably from Professor Ingram my freshman year: What the author intended isn't as important as what the reader derives from the work.
At first blush, the pacing of "3rd Floor" is so offbeat that the episode almost seems plot less. Sam, Tim and Leah are trying to fix an ad for a mirror company that's behind schedule. Sam and Tim make a show out of using the restroom on the third floor to take a dump. A new company moves into the third floor the partners are united in their disdain for—until Sam becomes smitten with one of the workers there.
However, the simplicity of the plot is bolstered by a consistent through-line of the contributions newcomers can make writer Zach Branin and director Bill Benz manage to execute without bludgeoning the audience. The episode makes a salient point of outsiders eventually becoming indigenous and viewing the next batch of newcomers as encroaching on their domain. By episode's end, Branin and Benz manage to tie the disparate plot lines together into a coherent whole.
As with the previous episode, "Happy Birthday, Mr. Duvet," "3rd Floor" is lean, with almost no extraneous elements. The "awkward scene" this time (Sam having to use the restroom behind the receptionist's desk), which would have run to the point of being interminable in the first three or four episodes, doesn't overstay its welcome. And Sam's reaction to the third floor being occupied was the funniest use of slo-mo to demonstrate Sam's surprise yet. One might question the need for an establishing shot of Tim and Sam's building coming out of commercial instead of just starting in the office, but that's a minor quibble, especially in comparison to the travelogue approach of the first few episodes. The production team is clearly learning, and applying those lessons to improve their product.
I laughed steadily from the beginning of this episode to the scene in the elevator at the end, and the show had identifiable situations and interesting observations on dealing with change and the role of immigrants in a society that wouldn't hurt supporters of Trump's travel ban to learn.
At least, that's what I derived from the episode.
Detroiters: Hog Riders (2017)
On Par with the Pilot
Often, a show's second episode is a step down from the pilot. Significant time may have passed between the filming of the two episodes and the production staff may have changed, resulting in the show still finding its legs. Detroiters' second offering, "Hog Riders," ends up being on par with the pilot.
This episode, a client's advice inspires Sam and Tim to purchase a motorcycle instead of a van to tote the agency's video equipment. While the plot line lacks the relative heft of the pilot, that shortcoming is offset by several factors. First off, the director on this episode is measurably better at framing his shots than Jon Solomon was in the pilot, and at least for the first half of the episode, the scenes on the motorcycle are cropped in such a way that it isn't so obvious the director was shooting early on a weekend morning when there was no traffic.
Two or three shots in particular caught my eye: Sam and Tim looking at their new hog from their office at an angle paralleling the angle from which they watched their client Sebastian ride off on his hog in the cold open (and to a lesser extent, the shot of the van from their office window even later in the episode); the scene where Sam and Tim come into the office from a motorcycle ride and you can see the Strohl Ice Cream owners dancing in the conference room in the background; and the scene where Sam and Tim are riding past a fatal motorcycle accident, the camera pans, following one of the cops on the scene, and he's blocked out of the shot just as he's starting to vomit. Also, there are no time-wasting NYPD Blue-style scene transitions this episode.
Episode MVP goes to Sheila, the receptionist. As random as her bits are ("I must have had one of my 'dumb blonde' moments" and her phone conversation with her mother), they are among the funniest parts, along with Tim's response to Leah's asking if he and Sam were through jerking off and Spike falling off the motorcycle.
On the minus side, the parody of the D.O.C. Sexy Specs ad lacks context; the ABC Warehouse parody of it was funnier. And if neither of those names means anything to you, then you have an idea of what I mean by a lack of context. Like Mort Crim saying he doesn't make it a policy to comment on the commercials, just before he comments on the latest commercial Sam and Tim have delegated to someone (this time, the building security guard) because they are too busy with the main plot of the episode, I wonder if that joke plays to anyone not familiar with Detroit. And if the scene where Sam and Tim are trying to sell Sebastian on a dance for his commercial was supposed to feel awkward and uncomfortable, congratulations; in that regard, it was on par with the Hot Tub King's epiphany in the pilot.
As with the pilot, there is a through-line, but it almost feels like the show closes on the least interesting one. Either of the two wish fulfillment/disillusionment plot lines—Sam and Tim's motorcycle distraction or the security guard's ad campaign taking off—would have made a more compelling show closer than what the episode ended on. Consequently, despite the superior framing, "Hog Riders" ends up being merely on par with the series pilot.
Detroiters: Pilot (2017)
Depending on Your POV, Either Too Long or Not Long Enough
Ad men Sam and Tim crash a business lunch, getting a chance to make an ad pitch to Chrysler.
This pilot was like the meal I had at Sala Thai in 1995 – there were things I had an immediate reaction to and ideas that only occurred to me upon reflection.
I mostly liked the show from the point when Sam and Tim crash the business lunch through the spit-balling session culminating in their trying to break their own office window. I laughed out loud at Sam and Tim dabbing sauce on their clothes and brandishing a random receipt to "prove" they had just happened to be eating in the same restaurant where the Chrysler exec was holding his meeting with a Chicago ad agency, the elderly receptionist (confusing Tim with his father) bending over "provocatively" to pick up her pencil, and the Hot Tub King ad.
I didn't care for the random shots of Detroit (which, being a lifelong Detroiter, I tend to find distracting in a "Hey! I know where that is" sort of way), Mort Crim commenting on the Hot Tub King ad, Sam and Tim sitting by the Ambassador Bridge cheering the trucks as they go by, or the Hot Tub King's epiphany. If that was intended to feel awkward, congratulations.
However, there were ideas that I didn't immediately pick up on until the day after I watched the pilot, such as Tim's father, the founder of the ad agency, now being literally a "madman" and cracking the "unbreakable" office window representing Sam and Tim achieving the unattainable goal of securing the Chrysler account.
The show has ideas and themes, but they may have gotten scrambled by some extraneous stuff. Maybe the pilot would have been better if it had been a little longer and split into two parts (part one ending with the Chrysler exec stumbling out of the woods and part two opening with the hospital scene, Sam and Tim watching the Hot Tub King ad, or the Hot Tub King's epiphany) or left as one part and some of the shots of Detroit (like the drive past Comerica Park) being deleted and the Hot Tub King's epiphany pushed back an episode. There's a disconnect between Sam and Tim's trying to break the office window and Sam's dream board.
Not a particularly strong start, but good enough that I will probably watch at least one more episode, which is more of a shot than I gave 2 Broke Girls or Workaholics.
Yancy Derringer: The Louisiana Dude (1959)
A Cookie-Cutter Mine Episode
Watching Coles Trapnell's episodes of Yancy Derringer, I can see why Warner Bros. might have pegged him as a passable replacement for Roy Huggins as producer of Maverick. Yancy's righteous anger notwithstanding, his motives generally aren't cut-and-dried '50s western hero fare. As was the case with Maverick, however, Trapnell isn't nearly as clever or witty a writer as Yancy Derringer's creators, Mary Loos and Richard Sale. This time, Yancy and Pahoo-Ka-Tu-Wah travel to Virginia City to collect Yancy's stake in a silver mine he's won in a poker game in order to replace the boiler on his riverboat.
Outside of three clever touches (the need to replace the boiler, a surprise death, and Yancy'a making his driver change his hat at the end), almost any given '50s TV western hero could have been penciled in for Yancy in this episode. Paladin would have gone to investigate his client's interest in the mine, and most of the other heroes would have inherited it somehow. Besides Pahoo-Ka-Tu-Wah, none of Yancy's usual cast of characters is around for him to play off of, the characters in Virginia City are largely archetypes, and the gist of the plot was probably a cliché even in 1959.
For once, we know the newcomer in town isn't the villain, but "The Louisiana Dude" is decidedly not one of this series' better efforts.
77 Sunset Strip: The Court Martial of Johnny Murdo (1958)
Rich People's Problems
Spencer is hired by "old money" Grace Murdo to investigate the theft of funds from a military academy after her son Johnny is court-martialed for the theft and expelled.
This was surprisingly good for such a seemingly banal case. As Mrs. Murdo herself points out, Johnny is set for life. The only consequence of his court-martial is the shame his expulsion from the military academy both his father and grandfather attended (for theft, no less!) will bring him in the circles Johnny will be traveling in his adult life.
There were a number of things about "The Court-Martial of Johnny Murdo" that kept my interest. First off, the scene that was chosen for the teaser (Spencer tricked into walking into a live-fire range). Then there are some of the small details, such as gung-ho Major Wilkerson's military background, Spencer's characterization of the military academy as a grade-B army, the ultimate reason why the money was stolen, and the fact that the motives or even the culprit (or culprits) weren't immediately obvious 15 minutes into the episode.
Plus, there's something you wouldn't see in any detective drama for at least the last 40 years: the client considers the dropping the case (for fear that Spencer might find evidence Johnny is guilty), and Spencer doesn't give her any argument about it. No speeches about continuing the case regardless of what Mrs. Murdo decides because Spencer had been shot at and "now it's personal" or anything like that. In fact, the episode might have benefited from a little ambiguity about Johnny's guilt, especially when someone turns up dead. And Kookie, even though he almost seems inserted in half his scenes, isn't nearly as creepy as he usually seems (i.e., the episode doesn't stop cold while his theme is playing and he starts combing his air).
All in all, this was my favorite Spencer-centric episode so far. There was enough mystery to keep me engaged for the whole hour, and eventually the stakes were raised.
Trackdown: The Brothers (1958)
Richard Devon Should Have Played Good Guys More Often
The penultimate episode of Trackdown Season 1, "The Brothers," is a very entertaining episode not so much for Steve McQueen, but for Richard Devon in the role of Fenn.
Hoby is ambushed on his way to pick up a prisoner and relieved of his gun and credentials. Upon his arrival in the town, Hobie is told that a ranger named Hobie Gilman has already picked up the prisoner, and the unsympathetic sheriff tells a cash-strapped and badgeless Hobie to get out of town.
Steve McQueen plays a dual role, and he's much better in this episode than he was in "The Bounty Hunter" earlier in the season. Even though McQueen is playing both Mal and Wes, they're clearly distinguishable from each other in personality, and not just in the dialogue they're spouting.
But Richard Devon, who generally played ruthless outlaws or backstabbing criminal accomplices (e.g., Machine Gun Kelly, The Twilight Zone episode "Dead Man's Shoes") is what raises this episode above other '50s westerns with twin brothers being mistaken for each other. His nonchalance meshes well with Gilman's usual nonchalance, and his dialogue with Gilman paints as complete a portrait of the town as a gaggle of citizens or narration (as with "The Town" earlier in Season 1, absent from this episode) ever could. This and Devon's recurring role as Jody in Yancy Derringer make me wish Devon had had more varied roles during his career.
There are definitely more layers to this episode than the usual "I don't know which brother is which" turn this type of plot line usually took in '50s TV westerns, and Richard Devon as Fenn is a highlight.
77 Sunset Strip: The Well-Selected Frame (1958)
And We Went Through This Because...?
Spencer finds himself framed for the murder of his client's husband, who she claimed was trying to kill her.
I've seen two Spencer-centric episodes so far, and I'm left wondering if there was a conscious decision made with these old Warner Bros. shows with rotating stars that the main lead would get the better scripts. As a previous reviewer has noted Boris Sagal's directing is a lot more interesting than the story. The biggest surprise is how suddenly the frame-up begins. The music cues vary between action pieces that would be at home in a Secret Agent episode and silly (sometimes stereotypical) cues in the vein of post-Roy Huggins Maverick episodes.
I will, however, gives props for the band in the bar playing "Someone to Watch Over Me" as Mrs. Stacy pleads with Spencer to take her case, as well as, in another scene (as was the case in "Lovely Lady, Take Pity"), the use of "It Had to Be You" playing in the background.
The best scenes are the ones with Stu Bailey, particularly the phone call scene in the middle with both him and Kookie in the office and the phone in the foreground. The episode even ends with Bailey.
The inquest scene is flat (an earlier reviewer pointed out). What was the point? Was the audience really supposed to be on the edge of its seat wondering who shot Mr. Stacy? Outside of that, there's nothing revealed that we couldn't have learned without Spencer becoming a fugitive--or Spencer running a background check on his client before taking the case.
I hope Sagal's talents are put to use on more compelling material in the course of this series, as "The Well-Selected Frame" pretty much qualifies as filler.
Trackdown: The San Saba Incident (1957)
Just as Good as the Remake
Hoby finds the prison wagon he's escorting shadowed by a menacing stranger.
Like the previous reviewer, I had seen the Wanted Dead or Alive version of this story prior to this one and recognized the setup almost immediately. Outside of the narration, I think I liked this version better. I found the crusty old wagon driver, cut from the cloth of many a Cheyenne sidekick though he may be, more interesting than Josh's sidekick Jason, and Rex Reason, with his magnificent voice, made for a more memorable villain than whoever played the part in the Wanted Dead or Alive version. The scene where he first approaches the camp at night is kind of creepy. As usual, it's nice to see Mort Mills play something other than a crooked, murderous deputy. The somewhat relaxed, friendly relationship between Hobie and his charges is fun. A Texas Ranger escorting a prison wagon also feels more natural than a pair of bounty hunters.
The fact that this episode is my favorite of the first four Trackdown episodes despite my having seen the remake first is testament to the strength of D.D. Beauchamp's script, as well as how well this production was put together.
Trackdown: Back to Crawford (1959)
What Could Have Been
Hobie returns to his hometown in response to threats against his sister.
Although there were two episodes broadcast after "Return to Crawford" (in September, no less--definitely a different television era), this was clearly written as a series finale. First off, it references the first episode of Trackdown, "The Marple Brothers" (although, when I actually watched the pilot, my reaction was "That one settled her?"). Second, it gives us some of Hobie's background (the town where he grew up, his sister and nephew, his old girlfriend). Finally, there's the dialogue at the end about what it would take for Hobie to give up his badge and the final image of Hobie riding into the sunset. There is definitely a sense of finality to the episode.
As noted in the Trivia section, this was star Robert Culp's first TV script, and it flows as well as the best of the Trackdown episodes (i.e., more Christopher Knopf than John Robinson), foreshadowing how good a scriptwriter Culp would be on his later series, I-Spy. Some of the dialogue is downright crackling, such as the aforementioned speech about what it would take for Hobie to give up his badge and the dialogue between Hobie and his sister's antagonist ("Why didn't you just sign the note 'Anonymous'?"/"How's that for crawling?").
This episode has all the makings of a series finale, and in a different era of television, it would have been a fine closeout for the show.
Trackdown: The Gang (1959)
Slightly Hobbled by the Heavy-Handed Messaging
Gillman returns to Porter after a four-day absence to find it held under siege by a gang en route to Mexico.
A pretty good, action-packed episode, bolstered by Nick Adams' performance as the leader of the gang holding the town at bay by holding Smith hostage in his own bar. Adams' character is such a mad dog, it almost makes the killer he played in the pilot to Wanted: Dead or Alive seem tame by comparison.
It's interesting that this episode clearly establishes Smith and Gillman as friends (something not particularly apparent in episodes like "Sunday's Child" or "Act of Vengeance"). There's also some continuity in this episode. Ralph is mentioned (even though we never see him), the doctor is the same doctor from "Terror" a few episodes back, and the bank president is played by Michael Fox, a role he reprises in the next episode, "The Threat." So this episode presages Star Trek Voyager in two ways.
The biggest problem with the episode are the two or three scenes where writer John Robinson virtually brands the episode an allegory for juvenile delinquency. "Oh, what drives youth to be this way," ask the Porter residents as the episode stops momentarily in its tracks. It's a small blessing Gillman didn't look out and ask the TV audience directly, so blatant was the messaging. Also, what happened to the rest of the gang that Adams' crew was waiting for, the 30-odd members who wrecked another town that the Rangers lost track of?
Speaking as someone who generally doesn't like hostage episodes, "Gang" was pretty good, although it would have been better without the heavy-handed moralizing on wayward youth.
Trackdown: Every Man a Witness (1958)
More Compelling Than It Should Have Been
The title, "Every Man a Witness," could almost refer to us, the audience.
A group of men, including the sheriff, lynch a man who refuses to tell them what he knows about a stable manager's murder, and that was just the teaser.
So what was the point of this episode? When Hobie comes to the town to investigate, no one denies he was there, and the sheriff takes responsibility for what happened. So, strike those clichés. As in a Columbo episode, we saw what happened, so the who is no mystery, and the why is kind of obvious halfway through. By rights, this should have been a boring episode, with the audience waiting impatiently for Hobie to catch up with us.
Amazingly, though, helped immensely by the deep-focus composition of director Laurence Dobkins' shots, with objects in the foreground and background (for example, the last shot of the teaser, featuring the sheriff's stunned face and the town's leading citizen next to him as Char is hanged, and the shot of Hobie framed in Char's doorway as his widow watches Hobie leave), and the way Hobie comes to the realization of what happened, the episode overcomes the constraints of how obvious the who and the why are, as well as its being a studio-bound production, to spin a compelling narrative.
This episode was a good demonstration of how you tell a story being as important as the story itself. I was genuinely surprised at how good this episode turned out to be.
Legit: Weekend (2014)
Spiraling down the Rabbit Hole
Steve falls off the wagon and goes on a bender after discovering his ex-wife is pregnant and planning to remarry, leaving Jim and Billy to care for Emily during a weekend visitation.
In contrast to the previous episode, "Licked"'s, seemingly being crude because it could be, "Weekend" is purposefully dark, skillfully bringing together recurring plot elements from several previous Legit episodes and going down unexpectedly dark paths.
The highlight of the episode is Steve's "magical mystery tour" down the rabbit hole. which begins at a gun range, moves into alcohol and drug abuse, and, eventually, Steve in his underwear. Most of the episode was funny, but not in a way where I felt comfortable laughing, along the lines of "I could hit these targets better if they had my ex-wife's picture on them," to which the gun nut running the range replies, "Obama won't let us." I was half-expecting Steve to be killed off and this to be the last episode. "Weekend" probably wouldn't have resonated with me as much as it did, however, without the unexpected return of a character from a previous episode, whose return is foreshadowed in a powerful scene involving Jim's paternal status. In some ways, the scenes with Jim and Billy caring for Emily in Steve's absence contrast to the surreal nature of Steve's pathetic spiral.
This was an episode that was much darker than any sitcom you're likely to see on network TV. Regular viewers of Legit will probably appreciate the touches that elevate this episode more than someone who's never watched the show before, but it definitely ranks among the series' better episodes. Highly recommended.
Have Gun - Will Travel: Duke of Texas (1961)
Edgy Fun
Paladin reluctantly accepts the assignment to accompany to the border an Austrian duke who expects troops to help him overthrow the government of Mexico.
This episode was a lot more enjoyable than I was expecting from the summary I had read or even from the first few minutes. The series' customary conciseness in storytelling was even more impressive in "Duke of Texas" as Paladin did not immediately leave from San Francisco at the beginning of the episode and something germane to the plot actually happened there.
The villain of the piece makes a mistake that alerts Paladin to his treachery, and the villain must know that Paladin is at least suspicious of him because of what he did, while the duke remains oblivious in his delusion. It's a dynamic that lends the story a wry sense of humor while maintaining an undercurrent of danger. Consequently, the action does not feel tacked on as an afterthought and the show still feels like a western. My appreciation of this episode was also bolstered by a somewhat melancholy ending that doesn't result in the survivors necessarily being wiser.
"Duke of Texas" is as pertinent today, in light of the U.S. invasion of Iraq, as it was in 1961 as the U.S. was sending military advisors to Vietnam.
Cannon: Dead Lady's Tears (1973)
Like a Film Noir Without Flashbacks
Cannon agrees to investigate the murder of a publicist's girlfriend, with whom the publicist had an argument just before she was killed. The client was seen leaving the apartment by the victim's roommate, who had been the publicist's girlfriend before he met the victim, Cannon is cautioned not to expect any special treatment just because he's an ex-cop by the lead homicide detective (played by a pre–Slap Maxwell Dabney Coleman), who apparently thinks he has an open-and-shut case against the publicist, and the trail that Cannon follows consists mainly of men who had been smitten with the victim.
While reasonably well done, "Dead Lady's Tears" plays like a film noir minus the shadows and flashbacks, and I wonder if it was intended as a homage to Betty Grable, who had died a few months earlier. The episode's writer, Steve Fisher, in addition to having written the screenplay for Lady in the Lake, also wrote the novel that served as the basis for the Betty Grable vehicle, I Wake Up Screaming. In 1973, before cable and home video, the similarities between this episode and that film might not have been so obvious as they seem today.
Daikaijû kettô: Gamera tai Barugon (1966)
Oddly Paced But Superior Kid-Free Sequel
If you're a fan of Gamera from '90s trilogy, Gamera vs. Barugon may be the original Gamera movie for you.
The movie begins with Gamera's being freed from the rocket he was trapped in at the end of Gamera, the Gigantic Monster and returning to Earth to wreak havoc on a dam. He then disappears for a good 45 minutes while the movie follows a trio of treasure hunters to a tropical island on their quest to retrieve an opal the brother of one of the hunters hid in a cave during the Second World War. Not to give away too much, but the procurement of this opal leads to the emergence of Barugon, in the middle of Japan, who Gamera (eventually) fights in typical Gamera fashion.
Three things immediately stand out about the second entry in the Gamera series:
There are no kids in this movie. As in its predecessor, Gamera is apparently motivated purely by a quest for energy sources.
Gamera is barely in the movie. He opens the movie, returns to fight Barugon, then comes back after another long absence to fight Barugon again. The bulk of the movie deals with the birth of Barugon and the Japanese's attempts to defeat him. (Maybe this was the genesis of the military's conflict in Gamera: The Revenge of Iris over which monster to attack first.)
Finally, the movie is in color, and Daiei seems eager to exploit that fact. The opening titles are played out over shapeless colors, and one of Barugon's weapons is a rainbow beam emanating from his back.
The movie contains some silly moments (most notably the theft of the diamond), but the human conflicts and relationships are played surprisingly straight and adult, at least in comparison to those in a typical Godzilla movie; everyone doesn't necessarily agree on strategy, and it's probably safe to say the two leads don't view each other as siblings. The biggest problem with the movie is its odd pacing, but without a delusional kid and several characters who do virtually nothing running around, Gamera vs. Barugon is a decided improvement over the original.
I Spy: Turnabout for Traitors (1968)
Kelly is accused by British intelligence of selling out their network in Acapulco and goes on the run after his escort to Washington is murdered.
One thing I don't like about "I Spy" in general is how much Kelly and Scotty's competence varies from episode to episode, which is somewhat indicative of how the quality of this episode varies. The first three quarters are very well done. British Intelligence's case against Kelly is presented very stylishly in a series of flashbacks centered on surveillance photos presented to him and Scotty at the beginning of the episode, and there's a certain grittiness to the dialogue that contributes to the desperate atmosphere of the episode. ("You don't get to tell me who my loyalty's supposed to go to."/"Never mind me; get him!") I also like Kelly's look once he goes on the run--slightly unshaven with a light blue sports coat and slacks, as opposed to the bright red jacket, white pants, and tennis shoes Kelly usually wears in the later episodes. This isn't an episode where Scott and Robinson are able to take everything in stride.
Unfortunately, whether it's due to settling for a first take to meet a production schedule or because of the production facilities in Acapulco, there's something about the climax that, even presumably remastered, reminds me of B-movies from the seventies. When Scotty confronts the main villain in a house, neither the composition of the shots nor the film stock display the same production values as the first 40 or so minutes. As much as I like the character Goyo and how he is introduced (as well as the role he plays), it is a little disconcerting to realize that both our heroes would have been owned by the villains without him. And what was the villains' plan? Did it change halfway through? When the assassin first throws his knife and kills Kelly's escort back to Washington, is he trying to hit Kelly?
"Turnabout for Traitors" is a good episode for late in the series, but it also displays some of the later episodes' deficiencies.
It Takes a Thief: The Blue, Blue Danube (1969)
Very Cool Episode
Al is sent behind the Iron Curtain with orders to retrieve or kill Dover, who's been captured by a legendary spy.
Although apparently a backlot-bound production, this episode has a very impressive look. The only episodes more impressive looking from season three are probably the ones that Barry Shear directed and another Bruce Kessler-helmed episode, "Flowers from Alexander." "Blue, Blue Danube" is a relatively straight-forward affair, lacking those other episodes' flashbacks and freeze frames. Most of the episode is set at night and most of the characters' clothes are dark. Munday is very smooth in this one. One of my favorite scenes is of Al entering a room, removing the glasses he's using as part of his cover as a Canadian theatre critic, perching on a window sill, and springing off. Most of the humor comes from the jealous Cultural Minister and his flirtatious diva of a wife. Al isn't perfect in this episode, but he isn't clumsy or careless either.
Away from Her (2006)
Hard to Watch
"Away from Her" definitely has a sense of place and a "realness" about it. Gordon Pinsent and Julie Christie play a retired college professor and his wife who have to cope with the onset of her Alzheimer's Disease. Eventually, they decide to move her into a rest home, where she seems to be drawn to another patient, almost to the neglect of her husband.
The movie is definitely set in Canada not Canada standing in for some part of the United States, whether named or unnamed, but Canada. And in contrast to a Hollywood movie I saw the same night, the cars have dirt on them. Aside from the pain of watching a loved one's mind slip away, which, unfortunately, is a very relateable situation, the disjointed narrative technique that writer/director Sarah Polley uses is at first a little distracting. The scenes of Gordon Pinsent looking for an address eventually bear fruit, but the payoff is a long time coming.
It's good to see a film attempt to tackle a serious subject maturely, but it's not the easiest viewing.
Fracture (2007)
Succinctly Rendered
Neither the ad campaign nor the pre-release buzz did this film justice. "Fracture" isn't a knockoff of "Silence of the Lambs"; it's more of a cross between "Wall Street" and "Columbo." Ryan Gosling is a deputy district attorney on his way out the door to take a job with a prestigious corporate law firm when he's assigned the case of Ted Crawford (Anthony Hopkins), an airline executive who's shot his wife. Focused on starting his new job and thinking the case is a slam dunk, Gosling is blindsided by the defendant (who, like Columbo, isn't as clueless as he affects to appear) and becomes determined to win the case and, perhaps, regain his moral compass.
While director Gregory Hoblit's TV roots are showing in some of the early transition scenes (e.g., the drawn-out introduction of Gosling's character, pointless skyline shots), overall the cast and crew deserve high marks for delineating the characters and their motivations as succinctly as they do. With basically two scenes, they manage to paint a portrait of the airline executive's wife and elicit sympathy for her situation, despite her being an adulteress. We're also given a good sense of Ted's manipulative nature and why he does what he does. David Strathairn, as the district attorney, manages to cut a patronly figure within the confines of an elected official having to deal with the political ramifications of a failure to convict. The movie is lean and streamlined without leaving the viewer feeling cheated.
"Fracture" is as much about the choices its characters make as it is about foiling the bad guy. That and the sharp dialogue place it a cut above most current Hollywood productions.
CSI: Crime Scene Investigation: Living Doll (2007)
Little More Than a 60-Minute Teaser
This seventh season finale was advertised as revealing the Miniature Killer (who's been a thorn in Grissom's side from the season opener), but not before he claimed a CSI for his last victim. Well, we did find out the identity of the Miniature Killer, as well as his motivation and how he got the layouts of his murder sites. And I suppose being abducted does constitute being a victim. However, after a whole season of wondering who the Miniature Killer is, ending on a cliffhanger seemed like a letdown, particularly compared to the great, largely self-contained season finales from seasons 3 through 5 ("What's in the Box," "Chimera," and, of course, "Grave Danger," which had a similar premise).
To be sure, there are some chilling scenes in this episode, particularly the miniature hand moving under the toy car and the flashback to the Miniature Killer's first murder, including the way the victim's father tells it through his ventriloquist dummy, but I doubt inserting the shot of the overturned car in the rain and the arm clutching from beneath the wreck (or even opening with it) before going to the scenes in the convenience store could have made the teaser any more confusing than it already was, and it would have heightened the sense of dread and made the episode as a whole seem less like one long teaser for the next season premiere. Maybe we'll find out some relevance to the guy with the switchblade in his belt and the girls shorting out the microwave, but I'm not holding my breath.