“Homicide: DR-22.” An episode of Dragnet 1969. First air date: 9 January 1969. (Season 3, Episode 14 of the color era Dragnet series.) Jack Webb (Sergeant Joe Friday), Harry Morgan (Officer Bill Gannon), Burt Mustin (Calvin Lampe), Art Balinger (Captain Hugh Brown), Len Wayland (Officer Dave Dorman), Jill Banner (Eve Wesson), Alfred Shelly (Jack Swan). Writer: James Doherty. Creator, producer, director: Jack Webb.

    Joe Friday and Bill Gannon are working Homicide when they’re called in to investigate the murder of a young woman, found hog-tied on her belly in her apartment. Almost immediately, the building manager, Calvin Lampe, appears at the door and starts to point out things about the crime scene that are so obscure Friday and Gannon’s suspicions are aroused.

   Later, while being informally questioned, Lampe indicates so many more unusual things about the crime — not to mention the discovery of his incriminating handprint on the wall of the victim’s apartment — that Friday decides to take him down to the station; for the moment, Lampe isn’t just the prime suspect — he’s the only suspect. But Friday and Gannon are in for a surprise when they find out who their suspect really is.

   Burt Mustin (1884-1977) was all over television in the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s, nearly always in comic roles. In this Dragnet episode, however, he impresses in a semi-serious part. Mustin’s first film was Detective Story (1951), when he was 67 years old.

   Many viewers remember him from his 14 appearances on The Andy Griffith Show (1960-66). He also showed up in “Nothing Ever Happens in Linvale,” reviewed here.

   You can watch “Homicide: DR-22” on Hulu.

“Death and the Joyful Woman.” An episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour (Season 1, Episode 27). First air date: 12 April 1963. Gilbert Roland, Laraine Day, Don Galloway, Frank Overton, Laura Devon, Tom Lowell, Richard Bull, Raymond Greenleaf. Teleplay: James Bridges, tenuously based on the novel Death and the Joyful Woman (1961) by Ellis Peters. Director: John Brahm.

    It’s going to be quite an evening at the Aguilar estate. Luis Aguilar (Gilbert Roland) plans to make an announcement at a big dinner party he’s throwing. He intends to publicly disown his son, Al (Don Galloway), because he won’t take on the family business (wine bottling); ironically enough, Al doesn’t even drink alcohol! For Luis, this is intolerable.

    Before this night is over, Luis will make a pass at a young woman; Al will nearly drink himself into a coma trying to win $5,000 from Luis, money that would help pay the bills for the baby that’s on the way; someone will be murdered; another will get koshed and thrown in a giant vat to drown; and a faithful servant will see her hopes dashed and attempt suicide.

    Yes, indeed, quite an evening is in store at the Aguilar estate.

    Ellis Peters (real name: Edith Pargeter, 1913-95) is most famous for her series of novels featuring the medieval monk Brother Cadfael, filmed and shown on PBS as Cadfael (13 episodes, 1994-98). This Hitchcock adaptation of her novel radically alters the story, if the description of it on the Fantastic Fiction website is accurate. (See below.)

    Gilbert Roland (1905-94) was a silent film star who successfully made the transition to the talkies. Laraine Day (1920-2007) was present in Hollywood’s Golden Age; her last screen credit was a two-parter on Murder, She Wrote (1986). And Don Galloway (1937-2009) is best remembered as Detective Sergeant Ed Brown in just about every episode of the Ironside TV series (1967-75).

    “Death and the Joyful Woman” is available on Hulu here.

    From the Fantastic Fiction website:

Steve:

Is there anyway you can enlist your army of mystery fans to help save the TV series Agatha Christie’s Poirot?

This month, series X of Poirot will air on PBS. It may be the last despite there being only 6 Christie stories to be filmed.

Below is an excerpt from www.culturevulture.com with more info and how we can help save the show.

I have also started a Facebook group page called “Save Agatha Christie’s Poirot.”

Thank you!

Brian R. Sheridan

In early 2010, it was speculated the Poirot series might end before the last six stories (out of 71) are filmed. David Suchet said, “I’m pragmatic and accept that things get cancelled. Of course, there are cutbacks in TV drama and if it is not to be, it is not to be. I will have to be a big boy and accept it.” He added, “Of course I would be very sad if it didn’t get recommissioned.”

Suchet also stated in April 2010 that if the series were to return, but on a lower budget scale, he would not want to continue making the last episodes if they would compromise the quality of the program.

So now is the time for fans to let ITV know that we would like ITV to produce the last of the Hercule Poirot stories by emailing ITV at

viewerservices@itv.com.

Or snail mail:

Viewer Services ITV Plc
Gas Street
Birmingham B1 2JT UK

CRACKER. ITV [UK]. 27 September to 8 November 1993. Robbie Coltrane, Geraldine Somerville, Kieran O’Brien, Barbara Flynn, Lorcan Cranitch, Christopher Eccleston. Series creator and lead writer: Jimmy McGovern.

   The big success of the moment is Cracker. There have been three stories, all written by Jimmy McGovern, the first with two episodes, then three and finally two again.

   The main character is Fitz, a psychologist, played by Robbie Coltrane. In the first story, “A Mad Woman In The Attic”, a student of Fitz’s is killed and he is asked to help by the parents. The gimmick here is that although Fitz can uncover what makes other people tick, he cannot cope with his own life.

   He is a compulsive gambler, a heavy drinker and, during this first episode, his wife walks out on him when she finds out he has squandered all the family money. Unsurprisingly, perhaps, the girl turns out to have been the victim of a serial killer, but this turns out to be a taut and entertaining tale.

   The second story, “To Say I Love You”, deals with a stammering youth who, meeting up with a girl, eases his frustration by going on a lawless rampage with her. The ending is tense and exciting.

   The third story, “One Day A Lemming Will Fly”, had, perhaps, more of a message, but I found it the least satisfying of the three. Overall though a series well worth looking out for. Following its overwhelming success, a new series is planned for next year.

Editorial Comments.   Not only was there a new series the next year, but there were four in all, plus (I believe) two standalone made-for-TV movies. Repeats were shown in the US on the A&E cable network, and a US version lasted four months in 1997-98, this one starring Robert Pastorelli (of Murphy Brown fame). All of the above are available on DVD, and the likelihood is high that I will soon persuade myself that I can’t live without them any longer.

   Comments on the US version are welcome. I never saw it. Perhaps very few people did.

“The Long Silence.” An episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour (Season 1, Episode 25). First air date: 22 March 1963. Michael Rennie, Phyllis Thaxter, Natalie Trundy, James McMullan, Rees Vaughn, Vaughn Taylor, Connie Gilchrist, Claude Stroud. Teleplay: Charles Beaumont and William D. Gordon, based on the short novel (“Composition for Four Hands”) by Hilda Lawrence. Director: Robert Douglas.

   Ralph Manson (Michael Rennie) simply can’t believe his luck. First, he embezzles $200,000; but the person who can pin Ralph’s malfeasance on him, Robbie Cory (Rees Vaughn), goes missing. Just when everyone thinks Robbie may be dead, however, he shows up with the evidence against Ralph.

   But Ralph’s luck still holds: Nobody knows Robbie has returned, so when he and Robbie get into a violent argument — during which Ralph, craven coward that he is, begs Robbie to give him at least a head start — Ralph loses control and kills Robbie.

   When his head clears, Ralph sets about making this murder look like a suicide. He takes Robbie’s body upstairs in the Manson mansion (his place in name only, since he has married into the millions belonging to his wife, Nora, played by Phyllis Thaxter). He hangs Robbie’s corpse from a chandelier and proceeds to type out a suicide note.

   But while he’s in the throes of composition, Nora, one floor down, hears him and goes upstairs to Robbie’s room, where she sees Ralph typing and quickly realizes his deception. Just when Ralph’s goose looks like it’s cooked, however, Nora tries to run away but tumbles down the stairs. The doctor will diagnose full-body paralysis and aphasia, duration unknowable.

   So Ralph’s luck STILL holds, since Nora can’t do or say anything. All he has to do is wait until she’s alone and overdose her cocoa or quietly smother her in her sleep — whatever the occasion might call for; it’s just a matter of time.

   But Ralph’s luck will run out when he fails to anticipate just how eloquent a completely paralyzed person can be.

   This one’s worth watching just to see Michael Rennie playing against type; here he’s a despicable gigolo rather than his normal stalwart authority figure. Rennie’s criminous credits include, but are not limited to: The Patient Vanishes (1941), Uneasy Terms (as hardboiled P.I. Slim Callaghan, 1948), Phone Call from a Stranger (1952), 5 Fingers (1952), Les Miserables (1952), Dangerous Crossing (1953), Soldier of Fortune (1955), The Third Man TV series (as Harry Lime, 1959-65), two episodes of Batman (as The Sandman, 1966), The Power (1968), and the appearances on The F.B.I.

   James (or Jim) McMullan occasionally got involved with crime in movies or TV: 13 installments of Chopper One (1974), three episodes of Cannon, two of Joe Forrester, three on S.W.A.T., three of Barnaby Jones, She’s Dressed to Kill (TVM, 1979), 14 episodes of Dallas, and Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery (1997).

   You can watch “The Long Silence” on Hulu here.

Editorial Comment: The cover art for the Ace Double paperback (G-539) was done by Bob Schinella. An close-up image can be found on this auction page, at least for now.

“Diagnosis: Danger.” An episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour (Season 1, Episode 22). First air date: 1 March 1963. Michael Parks, Charles McGraw, Berkeley Harris, Rupert Crosse, Allen Joseph, Douglas Henderson. Writer: Roland Kibbee. Director: Sydney Pollack.

   A car returning from Mexico heading toward Los Angeles suddenly lurches and a man falls out of the back, unnoticed by the driver. Between the time he becomes airborne and the moment he hits the road’s shoulder, he dies — not from the impact but from the deadly and highly contagious disease of anthrax.

   Dr. Daniel Dana (Michael Parks) works for the County Department of Public Health as an epidemiologist; his boss, Dr. Simon Oliver (Charles McGraw), is a study in paradox — he can’t stand the sight of blood, flinches when someone is in pain, gobbles antacid pills, and prefers to call himself a politician. Nevertheless, these two will have to oversee the search for an unknown number of people who have come into contact with the dead man on the roadside.

   Before the day is over, Dr. Dana will be striving to save the life of a man with a rifle who, in return, will be trying to kill him ….

   Michael Parks (b. 1940), with his brooding attitude and mumbling delivery, was supposed to be the second coming of James Dean. In “Diagnosis: Danger” he has to deal with what has since become known as “technobabble”; half the time he’s incomprehensible — but when he isn’t, he’s quite good.

   He made many appearances in individual episodes of ’60s and ’70s TV series, everything from Ben Casey to Perry Mason. In films he was Adam in The Bible (1966) and Bradley Ford in The Story of Pretty Boy Floyd (1974, TVM), made one Ellery Queen (1976), Murder at the World Series (1977, TVM), Dial M for Murder (1981, TVM), Prime Suspect (1989), The China Lake Murders (1990, TVM), five appearances on Twin Peaks (1990-91), Kill Bill, Volumes 1 and 2 (2003/4), and even had his own series, Then Came Bronson (27 episodes, 1969-70).

   Douglas Henderson (1919-78), the nosy reporter, was one of those ubiquitous screen faces whose name you never knew, bit-part performers who superbly served as cinematic wallpaper. Criminous credits: Cage of Evil (1960), The Manchurian Candidate (1962), Johnny Cool (1963), Seven Days in May (1964), three episodes of The Outer Limits (1963-64), six appearances on Perry Mason, Pendulum (1969), 10 segments of The Wild Wild West (1966-69), Zigzag (1970), four episodes of Mannix, six installments of The F.B.I., and three installments of Mission: Impossible.

    “Diagnosis: Danger” can be viewed on Hulu here.

Editorial Comment:   According to one source on the Internet, “Diagnosis: Danger” was intended as the pilot for a weekly series starring Michael Parks, but the project failed to find a sponsor.

“Let’s Kill Timothy.” An episode of Peter Gunn (Season 1, Episode 17). First air date: 19 January 1959. Craig Stevens (Peter Gunn), Lola Albright (Edie Hart), Herschel Bernardi (Lieutenant Jacoby), Hope Emerson (Mother), Mel Leonard (Casper Wellington), Henry Corden (Vladimir Sokolawsky), Arthur Hanson (George Tate), Frank Richards (Tiny Walsh), Peter Brocco (Sam the drunk), David McMahon (Mike the desk sergeant). Story: Blake Edwards. Teleplay: Lewis Reed. Director: Blake Edwards.

   Timothy is a most unusual individual: modest, unassuming, reticent to a fault. He is also many things to many people.

   To Peter Gunn, Timothy is an unexpected baby sitting charge. To Lieutenant Jacoby, he’s a “thing” that indecorously invades his office.

   To Casper Wellington, Timothy is both a friend and the way to fabulous wealth, while to George Tate and Tiny Walsh he’s worth kidnapping and gutting like a fish.

   But through it all Timothy maintains his composure. He may be a little guy — three feet tall and three hundred pounds — but he can fend for himself. Of course, practically no one can ward off two burly brutes intent on kidnapping; when that happens, even his foreflippers are of no avail.

   You know, if things keep going the way they have been, Timothy could soon be up on a grand theft felony charge. You have to wonder if the California penal system is capable of providing enough fish for an upwardly mobile but healthy young seal ….

   The normally drop dead serious Peter Gunn series veers into comedy with this one, and the whole thing works beautifully as director-creator-writer Blake Edwards shows he can do funny stuff with the mystery genre. Maybe this was him warming up for Inspector Clouseau.

   The best scene is at the police station, first with a drunk being booked, and then in Jacoby’s office when Gunn leads Timothy in, who immediately makes himself at home by flopping down on the couch. Gunn and Jacoby have an entire conversation without Jacoby once referring to the seal until the very end, but even then he doesn’t state the obvious — a nice piece of underplaying by everybody concerned.

   When Gunn is trying to locate Casper Wellington, he goes to one of his snitches, “artist” Vladimir Sokolawsky (Henry Corden), who is as surreal as any of his “artwork.” Like Victor Buono, Corden (1920-2005) could always do over-the-top superbly, and in his one bizarre scene he nearly steals the show.

   Mother was played in 25 Peter Gunn episodes by a fine character actress, Hope Emerson (1897-1960). In this show, she gets to “sing” “Won’t You Come Home, Bill Bailey?” — but the less said about that the better. (You’ve been warned.)

Note: According to the Internet Movie Database, this Peter Gunn episode was based on a Richard Diamond radio program, “Timothy the Seal” (5 February 1950).

Editorial Comments:   Click on the link provided to listen to the radio program that Mike mentions. The series, which starred Dick Powell as medium-boiled PI Richard Diamond, was on radio for several years. Many more episodes can be found here: http://www.archive.org/details/RichardDiamond2.

   The movie Gunn was reviewed here on this blog by Dan Stumpf about a month ago.

   ● LOIS & CLARK: THE NEW ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN. Feature-length premiere of the TV series. ABC-TV, 12 September 1993. Dean Cain (Clark), Teri Hatcher (Lois), with Michael Landes (Jimmy), Lane Smith (Perry White), John Shea (Lex Luthor), & Tracy Scroggins (“Cat” Grant). Based on the DC Comics superhero characters. Director: Robert Butler.

    “Look, up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s a guy up there in a costume, with a cape!”

    Or words to that effect.

    A retelling of Clark Kent’s first days at the Daily Planet, how he meets Lois Lane, star reporter, how he foils Lex Luthor’s attempt to sabotage a new space station, and why on Earth he needs a secret identity and a costume anyway.

    More entertaining than any of the big-budget movies, this much more reasonable facsimile of the long-running comic book is flawed by a certain lack of subtlety, but I still found it a lot of fun. (And it goes almost without saying that I would have preferred Margot Kidder, who must not have been available, there’s no kidding about that.)

COMMENT: Why is it that whenever I watch network television any more, no matter what I watch, that everybody on every show always seems younger than I am?

   ● 1994 BAKER STREET: SHERLOCK HOLMES RETURNS Made for TV, 1993 CBS, 12 September 1993. Anthony Higgins, Debrah Farentino, with Ken Pogue as James Moriarty Booth. Based on the characters created by Arthur Conan Doyle. Director & screenwriter: Kenneth Johnson.

    Not to be confused with The Return of Sherlock Holmes, a 1987 TV-movie with almost the same opening plot lines, except that (as I recall) the city then was Boston, and this time it’s San Francisco.

    When Holmes is popped out of the deep-freeze machine he’s been in for nearly 100 years, he suddenly has to confront all the changes that have taken place in the world, and when he tries to dazzle it with his amazing deductive abilities, the results are, sorry to say, not always on the mark.

    Lots of opportunity for little bits of comedy, in other words, as well as a hint of romance. Not as bad as perhaps I’m making it sound, but still not very good.

COMMENT: Personally, I think that every piece of fiction that has been written about Sherlock Holmes since Conan Doyle died has been fundamentally a bad idea, and they’ve all had to start building from there. With the probable exceptions of Anthony Boucher and John Dickson Carr, everybody else should have forgotten the idea.

[UPDATE] 06-10-10.   First of all, let me point out, in case you hadn’t noticed, that these two network movies were shown on the same evening, which I’m sure was a Sunday. Luckily we’d had our VCR for some time by then. What did people do without them? The good old days were often not so good.

    Secondly, note my stated preference for Margot Kidder as Lois Lane, rather than Teri Hatcher, but as the series went on, I believe the latter’s charms began to sway my preferences a tad.

    Both she and Dean Cain were complete unknowns when the series began, and it stayed on the air for four years. I think it lost a lost of momentum when Lois and Clark got married (long before they did in the comic book), but at the time, the ratings went sky-high.

   And by the way, those of you who have met me in person. Doesn’t Dean Cain look a lot like me? If I were as good-looking as Dean Cain?

    Although I should still have them on videocassette, I recently purchased the first season’s shows on DVD. I’ve not watched them yet, and perhaps I won’t for a while, for fear of being disappointed. I enjoyed the series then; maybe I won’t so much now. (Yes, I know. The boxed set shown is that of the second season.)

   As for the Sherlock Holmes movie, I don’t know why I was so hard on all of the books and movies based on Doyle’s characters, and believe it or not, I softened my phrasing in that comment above from the way I said it in 1993. They are what they are, some are better than others, and they’re all fun.

   The Return of Sherlock Holmes, which I mentioned being the same story as Sherlock Homes Returns, only earlier, was previously mentioned on this blog back here. It’s in Comment #2 following a review of The Missing Person, another movie with Margaret Colin in it.

“Four into Zero.” An episode of Kraft Suspense Theatre (Season 2, Episode 15). First air date: 18 February 1965. Jack Kelly (as Charles Glenn), Robert Conrad (Gary Kemp), Joe Mantell (Frankie Shields), Jesse White (Emil Glueck), Martha Hyer (Caroline Glenn), Sue Randall (Jane Crane), Ronnie Dapo (the boy), Hollis Irving (the mother), Murray Alper (the conductor). Teleplay: Don Brinkley. Story: Milt Rosen. Director: Don Weis.

   When most of us talk about “making money,” we usually mean collecting a paycheck from an employer. Four men, however, are planning to make money — quite literally..

   The four are: Emil Glueck, an expert printer; Frankie Shields, an ex-acrobat with a drinking problem; Gary Kemp, a handsome playboy who knows how to wheedle information from young women; and Charles Glenn, who doesn’t really need to steal since he’s married to an incredibly wealthy woman, Caroline. Glenn chafes at the situation, however, and feels he has something to prove by masterminding this caper.

   To get the inside information he needs, Glenn has assigned Kemp to date Jane Crane, who works in a large bank in Chicago. From Kemp, Glenn learns that the currency printing plates for a South American country have recently been crafted and are due to be shipped to that banana republic on a train from Chicago to Los Angeles.

   The plan is simple: Get aboard the train, “borrow” the plates and run off a million dollars’ worth, return the plates as if nothing had happened, and convert the money to American long green at prevailing exchange rates. Piece of cake.

   However, while a plan might be simple in conception, it isn’t always easy in execution. The unexpected sometimes occurs, and that’s when one’s ability to adapt to changing circumstances is called for.

   Among the unanticipated developments: the presence on the train of a railroad inspector on holiday; that nosy little boy who manages to catch sight of Shields when he’s doing his acrobatic thing; Jane’s determination to find out why Kemp, her fiance, has apparently abandoned her and gone missing; the loose nails that roll out of sight; and that falling whiskey crate.

   The question is: Can this collection of oddballs pull off this caper, or will they soon be cooling their heels in federal prison ….?

   Despite the stated desperation of some of the characters, as viewers we never really feel it. Nevertheless, the caper itself is fascinating to watch, and the ending is surprisingly upbeat.

   Jack Kelly (1927-92) previously appeared in “The Name of the Game” (reviewed here). Martha Hyer (b. 1924) was in “Crimson Witness” (reviewed here). Robert Conrad (b. 1929) is best remembered for The Wild, Wild West (1965-69), but he had a P.I. series, Hawaiian Eye (1959-63), a short-lived spy series, A Man Called Sloane (1979), and gave Lt. Columbo a hard time in “An Exercise in Fatality” (1974).

    Joe Mantell (b. 1920) is a versatile actor; he can do comedy or drama, and was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for Marty (1955). Jesse White (1917-97) almost always played it for laughs, but you could find him acting seriously on occasion (e.g., Witness to Murder, 1954); still, he has an unforgettable moment in Harvey (1950) when he’s reading the definition of a “pookah.”

FOYLE’S WAR. ITV (UK), PBS (US). “The White Feather.” Season 1, Episode 2. 03 November 2002 (UK date). Michael Kitchen, Honeysuckle Weeks, Anthony Howell; Lisa Ellis, Charles Dance, Maggie Steed, Paul Brook, Tobias Menzies, Mali Harries, Ed Waters. Series creator: Anthony Horowitz.

   The second episode of Foyle’s War pits Detective Superintendent Foyle against a group of despicable British Nazi sympathizers. Germany is on the march through the Netherlands and Belgium and into France and the British Expeditionary Force looks doomed.

   The Nazi sympathizers meeting at the appropriately named White Feather Inn welcome the German invasion that they think is right around the corner. Then one of them, the inn owner, is murdered, shot during their meeting.

   But was she the intended target, or was it the group’s noxious leader, Guy Spencer (played by the splendidly villainous Charles Dance, who also played the awful Mr. Tulkinghorn of Bleak House)? Foyle’s on the job!

   I thought the mystery plot in “The White Feather” was quite strong, though the overall story was not as compelling as that in the first episode, “The German Woman” (reviewed here ). There are actually two mysteries in the film, who murdered the inn owner and the whereabouts of a purloined paper, the publicizing of which would greatly embarrass the British government at this critical time. Both are nicely handled.

   Viewers should probably be able to guess the murderer (I did!), but the exact mechanics of the crime are very nice indeed, surprisingly more reminiscent of an R. Austin Freeman or John Rhode story than Agatha Christie.

   Though I enjoyed the mystery, I was not as drawn into “The White Feather” as I was “The German Woman.” Much of the time is spent with the repulsive Nazi sympathizers, who let us know they are Nazi sympathizers mainly by disparaging Jews at every opportunity. One gets tired of their company very quickly.

   There are a couple pf lower class characters we are supposed to sympathize with, a maid and her fisherman boyfriend, but these rather dim characters never make much of an impression, unlike their counterparts, the pub serving girl and shop assistant, in “The German Woman.” Only the thwarted intellectual son of the inn owners really drew my sympathetic attention.

   Scripter Anthony Horowitz links the plot to the Dunkirk evacuation, but this almost feels like another film and I didn’t feel like it came off too convincingly. We also meet for the first time Sergeant Milner’s wife, Jane, who tells him she doesn’t want to even see his prothesis leg in their bedroom!

   Personally, forced to choose between Jane Milner and the Nazi sympathizers, I might rather spend time with the latter. What a horrid woman. This marriage will not last, I hazard to guess.

   Once again the aristocratic types come off rather badly. After the first two episodes in the series, one might conclude that the British aristocracy spent most of its time getting their German wives exempted from internment regulations, when not actually attempting to help facilitate a Nazi invasion.

   In real life, while there were Nazi sympathizers among the aristocracy, there were plenty others who weren’t and gave their lives to the fight against the Nazis. Historically, the British aristocracy as a class has served the state in its many wars in large numbers.

   This may sound like a lot of carping, but I did enjoy “The White Feather” and would recommend it. It was not up to the top-flight level of “The German Woman,” in my opinion, but it certainly maintained my interest in the series and made me want to see what will happen next!