Tag Archives: television

[April 15, 1961] London Calling (a peek at UK fandom)

Every once in a while, one comes across a supremely talented, like-minded person.  Ashley R. Pollard is a gifted writer from England who is shopping around her first novel.  I discovered her through her columns in a British 'zine; I was so impressed that I asked if she'd like to join the Journey as a contributor, writing on fandom in the UK.  To my intense gratification, she agreed.  Here is her first article…

Out of the blue I received a letter from across the pond asking me if I would have a mind to contribute to Galactic Journey and that is how I came to find myself writing this entry for this journal.  To say I was delighted to be known to an American writer would be an understatement, but to be able to write for the Journey in such exciting times as these, the Dawn of the Space Age, is quite frankly a privilege.  When Sputnik took to the heavens on October the Fourth, 1957, my work colleagues could no longer pass off my taste for reading science fiction as some abnormal fancy but rather as a sign of prescience.

Now a Red star has risen in the East — Vostok — aboard the ship is the first human in space: Major Yuri Gagarin, who is now a Hero of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and by extension a hero for all mankind.  The local prestige of our former wartime allies had plunged due to the recent discovery and capture of the Portland Spy Ring, causing ripples of concern over secrets lost, so having Major Gagarin take over the headlines has been welcome change — if only from one kind of paranoia to another: Reds with atomic secrets versus Reds in Space!  And because it turns my liking for all things to do with rocketry into a respectable talking point at parties.

Certainly, Thursday nights conversation at The London Circle, a meeting of like minded science fiction fans, was of nothing else.  (The London Circle was the basis for Arthur C. Clarke's Tales from the White Hart.  I will not be drawn into the recent fan feud that has split the group because I attend for the ambience of the pub and the chance to have a G&T with ice and a slice. How very non-fannish of me.)

Of course, this being Britain, we had to draw comparisons to Nigel Kneale's Quatermass Experiment and the British Experimental Rocket Group and what happened to the hapless astronaut to leaven the concerns of those who see Soviet dominance in space as threat to World Peace.

As you can well imagine our conversations were more along the lines of aliens returning to Earth with Major Gagarin, and what would the Russian counter-part of Bernard Quatermass do?

Perhaps, it was opined, the reason that his landing site is undisclosed is because Russian forces are engaged in confronting the alien threat to save the world.  Though, as I said at the time this idea was broached, I imagined that if so then Pravda would be telling us all about the heroic actions of the brave Soviet soldiers who died to save the world.  As we've not heard anything to this effect it is simpler to imagine that secret of where Major Gagarin landed is merely something the Politburo do not wish to disclose for fear of Western spies — tit for tat being a common response.

As per my wont, I also mentioned a television series that had caught my eye, engaging fellow fans with a comparison and contrast of visions of the future and the impact of science fictional ideas upon.  I had my listeners' rapt attention until I revealed that said show was Supercar a production using puppets produced by Gerry Anderson & Arthur Provis of AP Films for ATV (the London independent TV franchise) and ITC Entertainment (a production and distribution company).

I came across this Saturday morning show quite by chance when looking after a friend's child who sat totally absorbed by the adventures of Mike Mercury, the pilot of the eponymous Supercar, and the science team who created it: Professor Rudolph Popkiss and Dr. Horatio Beaker.  Admittedly I missed some of the initial episode from being too caught up in reading my newspaper, the aforementioned headlines about the spy ring; but the catchy theme tune and more importantly the silence of the young boy watching kept drawing my attention from what I was reading.

What could be so fascinating that a six years old would stay still and quiet for so long?


I have since sat with him to watch Supercar together.  It's a delightful concoction with a totally over the top opening sequence that can't fail to attract the attention of the most jaded viewer.  The attention to detail is superb, for example, the opening sequence of events with Supercar flying up through the clouds banking over and then diving underwater are lovingly shot with music from Barry Gray that will stir the hearts of young and old alike.  More importantly it shows a future suffused with optimism…where cars fly!  I almost feel guilty for taking the babysitting money on Saturdays.  Almost but not quite.

Finally, to end this missive, and because I'm running out of blue airmail paper and worried about the cost of sending some photographs I acquired, I would like to mention another television show that has caught my eye.

It's called The Avengers and features the rather hunky and adorable Ian Hendry who is supported by a debonaire Patrick Macnee, who looks vaguely familiar but for the life of me I can't recall what he has performed in before.  I mention this show in passing because it riffs on the James Bond books, and with the Dr. No film coming out next year, I predict a spate of spy adventures gracing television and the silver screen.

However, the real excitement remains Major Gagarin's achievement and the effects this will have on East-West diplomacy.  If only the world leaders could see the bigger picture here and (to bang on my favourite drum) hope for the future — something that the makers of Supercar caught in their children's puppet show.  A future bright with possibilities from mankind's ingenuity which will save the day whatever the adversity we face.

[April 2, 1961] Uprooting itself (The Twilight Zone, Season 2, Episodes 17, 19, 20, 21)

Twenty years ago, even ten (and zero in some places), science fiction was all about the twist ending.  Aliens would seed a dead planet with life only for it to turn out…that planet was EARTH!  Or folks might spend a story in a struggle to stay alive, only to find out THEY WERE ALREADY DEAD!  And so on.  Stories would usually end with a shock sentence, often with copious slammers (!!!)

But the genre matured.  Characters, writing, and fully explored concepts appeared.  These days, the "gimmick" often takes the back seat, facilitating rather than dominating the story.

The Twilight Zone, the science fiction/fantasy/horror anthology created by Rod Serling, is generally a cut above anything else on TV.  This includes its pale competitors like One Step Beyond and Way Out.  Unfortunately, several times in the first season, and more frequently in this, the second season, the show has aped the gimmick stories of print sf.  The result is a run of predictable, sub-par episodes.  There is light at the end of this tunnel, however – the most recent episodes have returned the focus to interesting characters and genuine drama. 

First, we have to get there:

The episode preceding the lackluster The Odyssey of Flight 33 was the lackluster 22.  In it, a young dancer has been committed to hospital for an apparent case of nerves.  She repeats a chilling dream: she awakens, a glass crashes to the floor, she follows a nurse to the hospital basement, and there she finds the nurse waiting behind a door marked "22" – the morgue.  It is a clear case of precognition, though no one believes her, including herself.  At the episode's end, the dancer, wide awake, is about to board a plane.  Just before she does, something crashes to the terminal floor, and she notes the plane is number 22, its stewardess the nurse of her dreams.  She falls in hysterics and watches wide-eyed as the plane takes off without her…and explodes over the runway.

It sounds a lot better when I type it than when you watch it, which is the problem.  It's yet another of the episodes captured on videotape rather than film, an unsuccessful experiment I hope is ended soon.  The acting is a notch too broad, particularly the sardonic, uncaring doctor (though perhaps this is intended to make us think that even the dancer's waking scenes are dreams).  In short, good concept, mediocre presentation.  Two stars.

Burgess Meredith is back for the silly Mr. Dingle, the Strong.  Take the most nebbishy of folks and give him the strength of Superman; then sit back and watch the fun unfold.  Of course, you can't leave it there, so rob him of his powers at a critical juncture to ensure maximum humiliation. 

It's somehow not awful.  In particular, the strength effects are nicely done.  Lots of scenes with a scrawny fellow lifting heavy objects, punching holes in walls, etc.  Also, the aliens that bestow strength are genuinely hilarious.  Bad concept…but good presentation.  Three stars.

The dreary Static, in which a regretful old man tunes into the past on a magic radio, could have been good.  Like any bad gimmick story, it draws out far too long without developing the characters beyond bare pencil sketches.  Videotape doesn't help this one either.  One star.

Things end on a high note, though.  The Prime Mover is an excellent character study that starts right – with the focus on the players, not the twist.  Ace Larsen is a fellow who feels down on his luck, despite co-ownership of a little coffee shop, the love of a lovely co-worker, Kitty, and the unflagging friendship of the other owner, Jimbo Cobb.  It's Ace's desire for more, what he considers his due, that promises to be his undoing, especially when it turns out Cobb has the power of psychokinesis, able to manipulate items with his mind.

They end up in Vegas, with Ace raking in the dough at the craps and roulette tables.  With winnings totaling $200,000, both Kitty and Cobb urge Ace to pack it in, but Ace wants one more game, even if it means losing Kitty, and perhaps, sight of what's really important.  At a high-stakes craps bout with a notorious gangster, Cobb "blows a fuse" right as Ace lets his fortune ride.  Ace is left with nothing.

Or is he?  The event proves a watershed for the basically good-hearted Ace.  He laughs off the loss, returns back to the restaurant and proposes to Kitty, who accepts.  As a coda, we see that the seemingly simple Cobb hadn't lost his power at all.  It was all orchestrated for Ace's maximum benefit.  Now there's a friend. 

The episode works because the gimmick, Cobb's psionic ability, is almost incidental.  It isn't even revealed until almost a quarter-way through.  While I was pretty sure Ace was going to lose his winnings in the end, I was delighted to see that it wasn't the point.  Excellent acting and cinematography help, too.  Five stars.

More good news: the succeeding episode was also good…but you'll just have to wait until the next round-up to read about it!

Coming up, Part 2 of my article on the Women of Science Fiction.  Expect it day-after-day-after-tomorrow.

[February 26, 1961] A Choice to Make (The Odyssey of Flight 33)

Friday night is The Twilight Zone night.  It's true that the second season has not been as consistent in terms of quality as the show's first season, but it has had enough good episodes to remain regular watching. 

Normally, I wait until I have a month's worth of episodes before I summarize, but this week's episode, The Odyssey of Flight 33 impacted me such that I wanted to talk about it with my readers.

The episode takes place entirely within the confines of a (refreshingly accurate mock-up of a) 707 jetliner.  On its way from London to New York, flight Global 33 comes across a superpowerful tail wind.  The hapless plane is accelerated to a ground speed of 3000 miles per hour and then plunged through a barrier of turbulence.  The flight crew loses all radio contact with the ground.

A dramatically changed ground—all traces of habitation have disappeared from the mid-Atlantic coast, though the contours of Manhattan, Staten Island, and the Hudson River are all recognizable.  When the co-pilot spots a Brontosaurus grazing in primeval jungles of New York, it is clear that the plane has somehow been transported far into the past.

On a hunch, the pilot takes the jet back into the heavens to ride the mysterious tailwind again.  Another crash of turbulence, and the plane's radios come to life, the familiar skyline of Manhattan appears, and all seems well.

That is, until the pilot surveys the site of the United Nations.  Instead of that familiar building, he sees the distinctive structures of the World Exposition of 1939.  The plane has come back, but not quite all the way.

At that point, the pilot is faced with a choice: risk a landing at La Guardia, low on fuel, without radar, and on a runway that's too short, or ascend again for one last try.  He chooses the latter, and on that note, the episode ends.

There is much to like and dislike about the episode.  On the con side, it is ploddingly paced and utterly predictable.  Within the first ten seconds, my daughter exclaimed, "Is the plane going to go back in time?"  The scene with the dinosaur is ludicrous, not just in the dodgy special effects, but conceptually.  The Hudson Valley is an artifact of the last glacial period.  Certainly no aspect of the Eastern seaboard would be remotely identifiable 100 million years ago.  The cockpit of Global 33 is cramped with five crewmembers, one of whom seems to have no purpose but to take dictation for the Captain.

On the other hand, the cockpit action is extremely accurate (aside from that last point).  As an aviation enthusiast and former leisure pilot, the terminology and procedures are spot-on.  The acting is universally good (we've seen the Captain before, as an angel in the first season episode , A Passage for Trumpet).  The soundtrack is excellent.

Most importantly, the show provoked a long, thoughtful discussion afterwards.  What a choice to have to make.  Is it worth the gamble that you might end up in the primordial past or the unfathomable future just to get a little closer to your proper time?  Could you relive the last 22 years, understanding that the entire course of history would be altered?  Knowing that every person on the plane had a younger self down there? 

I'll say it flat out: I would land the plane.  22 years is close enough.  I would not risk the lives of my passengers on a slim hope, nor could I pass up the opportunity to avoid the horrendous toll of the second world war.  It's not an ideal solution, but it entails the lesser risk, in my estimation.

Of course, as my wife points out, I spend much of my life dreaming about the past, anyway.  Perhaps the thought of being a temporal castaway is less appealing to most.  Or playing God with history…

What would you do?

[February 7, 1961] TV Addiction (The Twilight Zone, Season 2, Episodes 13-16)

I've been watching a lot of television, lately.  It's embarrassing.  I should be reading more books or doing more than cursorily scanning the front page of the newspaper.  Instead, after work I flip on the set and vegetate for an hour.  I hope this doesn't become a habit!

It's certainly not as if TV has gotten significantly better.  Mr. Ed, My Sister Eileen, the umpteenth season of the Jack Benny Show, none of these are going to win any awards.  On the other hand, The Twilight Zone has already won an award (an Emmy last year), and I'm hoping that my continued watching and review of that show excuses my overindulgence in the others.

What did we see last month?  First off, there was Back There.  Corrigian, a youngish historian, departs for home from his Gentleman's Club after a rousing discussion on time travel.  One step outside the Club, and he finds himself in April 1865 on the eve of Lincoln's shooting.  Of course, he tries to avert the tragedy, but only one fellow, a sympathetic policeman believes him.  Then Corrigan is waylaid by none other than the assassin, John Wilkes Booth.  The President is slain, despite the policeman's herculean efforts to warn him, and the professor returns to a seemingly unchanged present.  Or is it?  The servant who saw Corrigan out is now a wealthy businessman.  It turns out he's the great grandson of the policeman from the past, whose attempts to save Lincoln won him acclaim.  The lesson: the river of time doesn't like to make drastic changes of course, but it can meander a little.  Not bad.  Not great.  Three stars.

Second up, we have yet another of the hard-to-watch videotape episodes, The Whole Truth.  The gimmick for this one was spoiled in the prior week's preview and in the opening of the episode: a crook of a used car salesman buys a haunted Model A, the purchase of which compels the new owner to always tell the truth.  This proves fatal to the fellow's business until he hatches a plan to sell the vehicle to none other than Nikita Khruschev.  It's an episode that relies on the charisma (or convincing lack thereof) of the main character.  Jack Carson does a pretty good job.  Three stars.

I looked forward to Invaders; Richard Matheson did the screenplay, and it was billed as a masterpiece of lines-less drama.  Something must have happened between the writer's pen and the screen because watching 22 turgid minutes of a farm woman menaced by a pair of miniature Michelin Men was excruciating.  My first instinct is to put a good portion of the blame on the actress, Agnes Morehead.  There was enough ham in her silent performance to poison a dozen shuls.  On the other hand, it might be the director's fault.  I heard through the grapevine that Matheson was not happy with the final product—he'd written in twice the action, and the alien invaders (who turn out to be human astronauts in a world of giants) had their screen time kept to a minimum in his version.  That would have been nice; they did not bear being in full view very well.  My daughter spent much of the show groaning in agonized boredom, pounding the floor.  I'm lucky the cops didn't come to take me away for bad parenting.  One star.

Thankfully, the follow-up show was a lot of fun.  Dick York plays a harried banker who gains the ability to read minds for a day.  He figures out what's going on with refreshing haste and uses the gift to great advantage, preventing a potential robbery, halting a bad loan, and getting the girl (who was too shy to verbalize her interest).  The scene where he listens in on the thoughts of a vacant-eyed bank patron who turns out not to be thinking about anything is a nice touch.  Four stars.

Not a bad run, and good enough to keep us watching on Fridays.  Are you tuning in, too?

[February 4, 1961] Sputniks and Supercars!

A bit of a grab bag while I finish up the March 1961 Analog:

There was a rather unusual Soviet launch yesterday.  We're calling it Sputnik 7 for lack of a better term, but it is still unclear just what the seven-ton satellite is supposed to be doing.  It is bigger than the capsules it has orbited before, the ones that carried dogs and mannequins.  It is also, apparently, not designed to reenter.  At least, it hasn't, and the Russians have not indicated that they plan to retrieve it.

Per Professor Yevgeny Klinov of the International Committee for Meteoric Studies of the World Geophysical Association, the probe was designed “to study the earth as a planet and to make a study of its nearest environment, including that of meteoric dangers. 

That would suggest it is an orbital laboratory in the vein of Sputnik 3, but who needs seven tons to do that?  In any event, aside from Klinov's reported comments and a bit of muted praise from TASS (the Soviet news agency), there's been hardly a peep about the flight, which some observers are interpreting as a sign that the mission hasn't gone as planned.  Usually, Moscow Radio gives lurid details of the cities Soviet probes will fly over and the radio frequencies on which one can pick up their beep-beeps.  This time, it's zilch-ville.

Maybe we'll know more in a week or so.

In other news, an exciting scifi kids show had debuted across the pond in Jolly Old England.  Supercar came out on January 28 (if ITC stuck to the schedule I read in the trade magazine I got from overseas), and it looks like a hoot.  The eponymous vehicle, piloted by American “Mike Mercury” can drive, fly, and even submerge.  Mike and his Supercar will be involved in a number of adventures, rescuing folks in distress, fighting bad guys, and helping the progress of science.  Interestingly, the world of Supercar is populated entirely by marionettes, using a newly developed technique called “Supermarionation.” It looks a little creepy, if you ask me, but perhaps one gets used to it.


Here's hoping the show gets syndicated in the U.S.  I'm still waiting for Danger Man to come over…

[January 9, 1961] Looking up?  (The Twilight Zone, Season 2, Episodes 9-12)

What goes down sometimes comes up!  The sensational new sci-fi/surreal anthology, The Twilight Zone, started its sophomore season with a sharp decline in quality from its debut run of episodes; but, I'm happy to report that the quality of last month's batch was pretty good.

The batch started out with a subtle bang with The Trouble with Templeton, in which an aging star of the stage seeks solace in the too-brief sweet time of his young adulthood.  It is both kin and different from the other episodes that have essayed this territory: A Stop at Willoughby or Walking Distance.  Though the 1920s Templeton returns to look as he remembers, particularly the lovely form of his long-dead wife, neither his bride nor his best friend seem happy to see him.  In fact, they practically chase the old man away.  But in one poignant moment, it is revealed that it was all an act; they were pushing him back for his own good, so he could live out his life with vigor rather than remorse.  A bit long in the first act, but worthy watching.  Four stars.

A Most Unusual Camera is the clunker of the four.  A trio of none-too-bright criminals pick up a vintage camera in a heist, one that takes pictures a few minutes into the future.  They quickly hatch a plan to turn it to profit–by snapshotting of the results board at the horse racetrack and betting before the end of the match.  Their winning streak is foiled by a greedy bellboy, and they all four end up dead in one way or another.  Unsubtle and rather grating.  Two stars.

The next in what was originally a consecutively produced batch of video-taped episodes is Night of the Meek.  It's a Christmas episode, about a dipsomaniacal Santa who ends up about as down on his luck as one can imagine…until his wish is granted: to be a true Holiday gift giver, providing all the folks he knows with what they most desire for Christmas.  I was ready to dislike this episode as video-tape cripples the cinematography, and I tend to dislike Christmas-themed fare on principle.  But it was actually heart-warming and, more importantly, my daughter quite enjoyed it.  Three stars.

Day-before-yesterday, we wrapped all cozy in blankets, turned on the space heater, and tuned in for the latest episode of The Twilight Zone.  It didn't look promising, this somber piece about a squalid Old West town in which a fellow was locked up, waiting to be hanged for running over and killing a little girl.  He had been drunk, you see, filled with the sadness of a village wasting away.  The prisoner is tormented by a vulgar snake-oil salesman, who is run out of the jail by a clearly sympathetic sheriff.  When the prisoner's father pleads for his boy's life, to no avail, the peddler offers for 100 pesos a bag of "magic dust" that, he claims, will warm the hearts of the lynch mob so that they spare the penitent killer.  Of course, it's just a bag of dirt.  The young man is sent through the gallows with the rope around his neck…and yet, he is spared when the noose (ironically, also an item sold by the peddler) snaps.  The parents of the deceased decide the prisoner has suffered enough.  Was there any magic in this episode?  Or did the heartsick lawman give the rope a little fraying before use?

It's a poignant episode with some of the best writing I've seen, both in the bumper narration and in some of the dialogue.  This was another one we expected to dislike, but it was surprisingly gripping.  Four stars.

If things are looking up in the New Year for television, they are looking decidedly grim in the world picture.  On New Year's Eve, several North Vietnamese battalions charged into the neighboring Southeast Asian country of Laos.  There is concern that this could turn into a full-fledged proxy war between the Superpowers; America is actively supporting the Laotians, and Soviet planes have been spotted dropping supplies for the Communist Vietnamese troops. 

We avoided a catastrophe during the Suez crisis, when neither the USA nor the USSR was willing to intervene for their clients.  That is one of the reason the "Doomsday Clock" was turned back last year from two to seven minutes.  Perhaps the Federation of Atomic Scientists, the keepers of that macabre timepiece, were a bit hasty…

See you in a few with cheerier news, I hope.

[Dec. 5, 1960] Improved Batch (The Twilight Zone, Season 2, Eps: 5-8)

We are now deep into the second year of Rod Serling's horror/fantasy anthology, The Twilight Zone.  I expressed my dissatisfaction with this sophomore season during my review of the first four episodes.  Has the show, justly nominated for a Hugo this year, gotten any better?

Well, you wouldn't know it from the season's fifth episode, The Howling Man.  My biggest beef with this show is the overused cliché of a man's slow descent into madness, usually punctuated by screaming in an episode's padded second act.  This episode begins with a madman, an “American” with a strong foreign accent, who narrates the encounter he had decades before with a mysterious religious order.  It seems they had imprisoned the Devil.  Of course, the narrator was tricked into freeing him.  He then spent the next twenty years recapturing him…only to lose Beezelbub again when the narrator's maid let him go.  It's an overwrought, tilt-cameraed mess of an episode.  One star.

The next one, Eye of the Beholder, fares a little better.  A hospitalized woman, head completely bandaged, awaits the results of a treatment that will make her appearance “normal.” She is, reportedly, hideous.  The twist is given away within the first few minutes as the cinematographer takes ludicrous pains never to show the faces of any of the medical staff.  What saves this episode is the unsubtle yet still resonant commentary on modern prejudice and over-conformity.  Two stars.

Nick of Time is the first episode that approaches the standard set by the premiere season.  A honeymooning pair of newlyweds break down in a rural Ohio town and lunch in a cafe.  There, a Devil-headed fortune machine dispenses eerily accurate predictions.  William Shatner, a handsome young actor, really steals the show.  Moreover, there is flow and development to the story—you find yourself caring about this couple beyond the gimmick.  The ending is a nice kicker, too.  Four stars.

But then we're back to form with episode four, The Lateness of the Hour, in which a young woman, shut in with her aging parents, rebels against the monotony of her life and the robotic, humanoid servants who enable it.  In the end, no surprise, it turns out she is a robot.  It stars Inger Stevens, who we saw last season in The Hitchhiker, and also in the great movie The World, The Flesh, and the Devil.  I like her, but this format was not kind to her.  The show has apparently switched to video-tape from film.  It may be cutting-edge and cheaper, but it looks tacky, and the whole thing runs like one-set dinner theater leaving no room for creative editing or cinematography.  Two stars.

This isn't the first time a show has fallen short second year out.  Now that its leads are joining the Army, The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis is disappointing, too.  Well, what's worse: a long-lived mediocre program, or a show that burns brightly for a short time before petering out?

[Oct. 25, 1960] Great Expectations (the second season of The Twilight Zone

When does the New Year start?

Your first instinct might be to say "January 1, of course!"  But that's simply the beginning of the calendar year.  Think of all the other days that kick off the next 365-year cycle.  For Jews, New Year is in September.  If you run a company, your fiscal year has a good chance of not matching the calendar.

And if you're a student, a football fan…or a television viewer, you know viscerally that the New Year starts right after Labor Day.

Last TV year, writer/producer Rod Serling stunned his audiences with the exciting new anthology show The Twilight Zone.  Featuring half-hour episodes with science fiction/fantasy/horror themes, it was some of the best material the small screen had to offer.

It's no surprise that Twilight Zone was renewed for 1960-61, but can the new season match the expectations set by the first?

So far, the answer is… no.  Let me go through the four episodes that have come out thus far, and then I'll discuss the common elements that have been their undoing.

First up is King Nine will not Return, about a World War II bomber pilot who wakes up in the wreck of his plane stranded somewhere in North Africa.  The rest of his crew is gone, and his memory only gradually returns.  A nice hook, but it goes nowhere.  For 20 minutes, we get to watch the Captain laugh, cry, gibber, and run around.  Then he wakes up in a hospital, and it turns out it was all a battle-fatigue induced nightmare.  Except that his shoes are full of desert sand.

Then we have The Man in the Bottle, a prosaic little genie-grants-wishes story.  This episode is particularly maddening as the plot relies on the utter stupidity of the wishers (the genie, despite his rather sinister demeanor, is quite generous as genies go).  Granted four wishes, a near-bankrupt antique storekeeper and his wife wish: 1) That their display case glass be mended, 2) That they get a million dollars, 3) That they be unimpeachable rulers of a contemporary nation, 4) and (when #3 doesn't work out), that they be restored to their former state.

The catch to their windfall of cash is the Internal Revenue Service, which claims most of the income.  Since (in a nice bit) the generous storekeepers give away about $60,000 right away, after taxes they are left with just $5.  As for the gratification of wish #3, you just knew the storekeeper was going to end up as Adolf Hitler on April 30, 1945.  And after #4, the storekeeper breaks the display case repaired by wish #1.  A complete reset.

Except, of course, that his neighborhood is $60,000 richer!  This isn't touched upon, and it is a shame.  I would have liked to see the storekeepers' community, now aflush with funds and overflowing with gratitude, helping to make their shop a success. 

Or, you know, for the storekeepers to make better wishes in the first place.

Nervous Man in a Four Dollar Room

A two-bit hood spends the episode in a dingy hotel room literally wrestling with himself after being given his first murder contract.  In the end, his suppressed nobler self takes control and turns away from a life of crime. 

And is subsequently gunned down by the mob.  Ah, my mistake.  That didn't happen, or at least, it was not shown in the episode.  It's a logical conclusion, however.

I actually probably enjoyed this episode the most, but that's not to say it was good; merely that it was not horrible.  Joe Mantell turned in a pretty good performance as the pathetic "Jackie."

Finally, we have A Thing about Machines, which my daughter and I were able to preview before it airs this Friday (in three days).  A martinet of a writer in a palatial estate finds fault with all of his mechanical devices: his television, his radio, his typewriter, his phone.  So they all plot their revenge.  The typewriter composes an eviction notice (somehow, the thing magically replenishes its paper store).  The television and phone harangue him.  His electric shaver slithers after him like a snake.  Ultimately, his car chases him into a swimming pool, where he dies of a heart attack.  The acting, cinematography and music are fine.  Shame about the story.

My daughter told me recently, "Last season, Twilight Zone was creepy with a twist.  Now it's just creepy."  She's right.  Each story starts with a premise and then goes nowhere, developmentally speaking.  We're back to that padded middle, crazy fellow screaming pattern that dogged the worst episodes of the first season. 

What's the common element?  Rod Serling wrote them all.

In fact, Rod Serling, who previously only showed up in the previews for next episodes now walks onto the set at the beginning of every story.  I don't mind when Hitchcock does it, but it rather breaks the flow in this show.  As for the quality of writing, the stories Serling provided last season were among the weaker entries, and he's no better this season.  I have a great deal of admiration for Serling as a producer and a raconteur, but he's got to let other folks contribute some screenplays.

Perhaps I'm being overly harsh.  It may well be that Serling is writing under strict budgetary guidelines, which limits his sets and number of actors (not to mention hiring out guest writers).  Between Serling and his restrictions, I don't know that the show will survive the year.

On the other hand, next week's episode is by Charles Beaumont.  That bodes well.

See you in two days with this month's Fantasy and Science Fiction!

[Oct. 22, 1960] Frice said and done.  (The fourth Kennedy/Nixon debate)

Contrary to the Bard's assertion, one can have too much of a good thing; I'm not sure that the fourth Nixon/Kennedy debate entertained anyone, except perhaps the Trumanesque moderator, ABC's Quincy Howe.

That is because the candidates had exhausted themselves of platitudes and nitpicky facts, leaving naught but tired repetitions of previous debate points. Here's a brief summary of what was addressed at last night's all-foreign policy debate.

Both candidates fairly squandered their opening statements. Communism as the main enemy of the United States was the theme of Nixon's preamble. He repeated his assertion that 600 million souls had fallen behind the Iron Curtain during Truman's administration while virtually none had during the Eisenhower administration. Kennedy preempted the speech he'd planned to give to respond to Nixon's charge, and he dredged up the same points he'd made in the last debates: that Eisenhower let Cuba fall to Communism, and that a neglected Africa is on its way, too.

The debate did have a few interesting highlights, however. Nixon was asked if he was only taking such a strong stance on the defense of Quemoy and Matsu (two insignificant islands off the coast of Red China currently claimed by Formosa) just because his opponent has not. The Vice President said that the accusation was totally false…and then said he'd drop the whole matter if Kennedy changed his position. Kennedy declined.

On the topic of Cuba, Nixon endorsed a queerly dovish policy: embargo Cuba, and the people will eventually topple Castro, he said. Kennedy strongly disagreed, and he urged active American support of anti-Castro Cubans, domestic and exiled.

On the issue of national prestige, Nixon assured his audience that American is doing just fine, and that any blows to our country's image are Kennedy's fault for being so unbalanced in his attacks. With regard to the space race, Nixon may be right–we've had, as he said, 28 successful space shots to the Soviet's 8. We just never achieve the spectacular first. I guess, 'Being #2, we try harder.' But when the Vice President talked about our high prestige in Latin America, well, color me unconvinced. The rocks and eggs which pelted Nixon when he visited Peru and Venezuela in 1958 weren't flowers.

Kennedy countered simply, "I look up and see the Soviet flag on the moon." He may be referring to Luna 2, or he may be predicting that the Communists will get there first. Either event points up a Soviet superiority in boosters (i.e. missiles), at least for the moment.

When asked which region of the world would receive stronger focus in his administration, the Senator suggested Eastern Europe. This surprised me given his calls for greater ties with Africa and Latin America, but perhaps he meant 'in addition' to those regions he'd already mentioned. Specifically, Kennedy singled out Poland as a possible candidate for pulling from the Soviet grasp. Truth to tell, I did not know that Poland was vulnerable to such endeavors given that they share a border with the Soviet Union. I was impressed by the Senator's articulation on this point.

I was not, however, impressed with Nixon's "me too" reply or his subsequent closing statement. Just appearing sincere is now too much of an effort for the Vice President, and he's given it up. I think he couldn't wait for this whole debate fiasco to be over.

And fiasco it has been. Going into the debates, Senator Kennedy was struggling with an image of immaturity. Vice President Nixon was considered the better speaker, the more experienced candidate. Now we've seen four contests between the two, and Kennedy has come out the winner in at least three (in my opinion). More importantly, Nixon began and ended the series with weak performances, whereas Kennedy has only looked more and more presidential.

I don't believe that these debates are the linchpin to the election, but they have made it much more of a horse race. What was the Vice President's election to lose is now anyone's game.

Next up: the second season of The Twilight Zone!

[July 2, 1960] Bottom of the Cup (Twilight Zone 1st Season wrap-up)


Gabrielle and Chelsea–dig that futuristic dress the latter has on!

Greetings from Westercon San Diego!

Now, with an opening like that, I expect you're expecting a convention report.  Well, this is just day one of a four day extravaganza, so not quite yet.  Just know that I'm having a lovely time, and I've already swept up many fellow travelers.

No, instead I want to talk about the end of an era.  After a successful run of 36 episodes, The Twilight Zone has come to a finish.  Well, for this season, anyway.  I can't imagine that it won't be renewed in Fall 1960. 

This latest one will review just two for the simple reason that there ain't no more:

First up is Rod Serling's The Mighty Casey, possibly the least inspired of the season's line-up.  Here's the set-up: The Hoboken Zephyrs are deep in the cellar, easily the losingest team in the National League.  Along comes a applicant with the goofiest face imaginable.  He is accompanied by a elderly gentleman who makes no obfuscations about the fact that the rookie is, in fact, a robot.  Interestingly, this is the second Twilight Zone to star the quite talented Jack Warden, and both times, a robot co-stars.

Well, the young artificial man, 22 years old in appearance yet just three weeks in existence, proves to be an amazing pitcher, and the Zephyrs come to have a solid shot at the pennant.  Until, of course, it is learned that Casey isn't human.  Now, this is where I expected an interesting debate over what qualifies a player as a "man," and the fine line between natural and artificial sapience.  Instead, I got a dopey resolution where the stellar pitcher is given a heart (so as to gain human status) and then subsequently doesn't have it in him to strike anyone out. 

"Mediocre," was my daughter's assessment. 

A World of his Own, by Richard Matheson, fares a bit better.  Keenan Wynn is a famous but somewhat nebbishy playwright with the uncanny ability to make characters come alive–literally.  In fact, as the episode opens, he is caught by his wife (Phyllis Kirk) in the arms of a mistress of his own creation (Mary La Roche).  Well, that's what the wife sees through a window, but by the time she enters the writer's study, the mistress has vanished.

Eager to save his marriage, the writer explains his talent, but his wife remains dubious, threatening to lock him up so that she can collect all of the community property after obtaining a divorce.  Ultimately (as telegraphed from the first minutes of the show), it turns out that Kirk is also one of Wynn's creations, and Wynn is compelled to destroy her by tossing the dictation tape that contains her description into the fireplace.  He contemplates bringing her back with a fresh dictation, but instead, he resurrects the less shrewish Mary. 

Rod Serling then appears to deliver a rare on-screen coda… only to be disposed of by Wynn in the same fashion as all of the playwright's other creations.  Cute.

There is a rushed, claustrophobic element to these two stories, as if the show had run out of budget, and the Serling/Houghton production team was forced to make them on the cheap.  Here's hoping CBS funds the show more lavishly in Season Two.

Still, there's no cause for complaint.  We got more than 15 hours of some of the best television has to offer, and strong indications that we can look forward to many more in the years to come!