Flashback: Stalker (Pilot)

Lt. Beth Davis and Det. Jack Larsen should be a great team when it comes to sleuthing out stalkers, because she is being stalked and he is a stalker (but not hers). At least that is how it looks during the pilot of Maggie Q’s 2014 procedural. She carried it well, but it was considered a little too intense for network TV—maybe not surprisingly so, since it was created by Kevin Williamson, the screenwriter of Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer. Unfortunately, it is hard to compare it with her new series, Ballard, since it currently is not available for streaming, but it certainly showed Maggie Q could credibly portray a driven police investigator.

Frankly, Davis might have even more baggage than Ballard. The pilot only hints at her backstory, but judging from the way she secures her apartment each night, she clearly intends to be ready for an intruder. Ironically, handling stalkers is her job as the leader of the LAPD’s Threat Assessment Unit (TAU). Unfortunately, she often gets called into cases much too late, like the woman whose stalker immolates her during the prologue. That was a rough start that earned the series a reputation for brutality, especially by network standards.

Frankly, the pilot shows an inclination the straddle the boundary dividing dark serial killer/stalker thrillers from horror that should have appealed to Williamson’s fans. Indeed, the episode’s primary case is seriously creepy. Awkwardly, instead of resolving the second case, wealthy college weirdo Perry Whitley only shifts his obsessive attention in an inconvenient direction.

N.Y.P.D.: The Peep Freak, Guest-Starring John Cazale

It only ran for two seasons, but N.Y.P.D. helped inspire one of the most successful spoof franchises of all time. The flashing light from The Naked Gun’s opening credit sequences was taken directly from this show. To compound the ironies, the guest stars for this episode arguably became more famous the regular cast. Jack Warden, Robert Hooks, and Frank Converse all had long successful TV careers, but John Cazale, Martin Sheen, and Raul Julia would all go on to highly prestigious movie careers after guest-starring in “The Peep Freak” episode of N.Y.P.D.

Tragically and awkwardly, a woman was murdered in her apartment opposite that of Fred Janney, a known peeper, played by an incredibly squirrely Martin Sheen. During the course of the investigation, Janney goes from prime suspect to assumed reluctant witness, but he insists he never peeped that night. His psychiatrist Dr Radenko backs him up as much as she can, without compromising doctor-patient confidentiality.

As Detectives Jeff Ward and Johnny Corso work the case, they interview Tom Andrews, the oddball building super, played by Cazale, who gets quite a bit of screen time, and Edith Graham, who has grown sick of 1968 New York City’s escalating lawlessness, so imagine what she would think of the Chaotic Dinkins or de Blasio years?

As it happens, this episode nicely showcases the talents of Cazale and Sheen, although the latter might overact a tad, pushing Janney’s agitation into almost comical heights. On the other hand, Julia probably only made scale in his appearance as the patrolman, but at least he has one line. Although not a household name, Miriam Goldina brings further notoriety to this episode, as Dr. Radenko. Born in Russia prior to the revolution, she studied directly under Stanislavsky and later taught his methods.

The Evil Touch: Heart to Heart (Early Stallone)

For a greedy wastrel, a perfectly good serial killer should never go to waste. He believes his rich, disapproving aunt should be the so-called “Monster’s” next victim, even if he must kill her himself. Where did this sinister scenario come from? The mind of Sylvester Stallone, who wrote the teleplay under the oddball pen-name of Q. Moonblood several years before the release of Rocky. The upcoming re-release of Stallone’s first starring-role in Robert Allen Schnitzer’s Rebel offers an opportune time to revisit his first IMDb writing credit, the “Heart to Heart” episode of the American-produced Australian anthology series, The Evil Touch, hosted by Anthony Quayle.

Nephew Richard is lazy, entitled, and mean-spirited, so his wealthy guardian Aunt has finally decided to write him out of her will. However, it will take a few days for her lawyer to return from his ill-timed business trip, which leaves ample time for Richard to kill her.

Since the Monster has been amassing a horrendous body-count across the countryside, the ne-er do well nephew assumes if he copies the killer’s M.O., her murder will automatically be attributed to the serial killer. He just needs to make nice with his Aunt, so he can lure her somewhere isolated. However, there are a few variables to his plan that he cannot control, but experienced genre viewers might anticipate.

Nevertheless, Stallone, a.k.a. Moonblood, gives his big twist an amusing additional half-twist. Consequently, “Heart to Heart” is surprisingly satisfying, in a suitably macabre way. Regrettably, episodes of The Evil Touch are currently only available as inferior-quality YouTube uploads. Yet, the slightly blurry video adds a hallucinatory effect that makes each episode feel like a feverish dream.

Camera Three: Moby-Dick (Part 5)

This was the era before high def. Frankly, in 1954, they hardly had any def whatsoever. Consequently, it is difficult to appreciate early television as it was experienced by the original audience (whose TV’s were small black-and-white screens on enormous consoles). However, the classy minimalist aesthetic of Robert Herridge’s Camera Three anthology series still holds up. Long considered lost, the fifth concluding installment of Camera Three’s Moby-Dick, directed by Frank Moriarty, screens as part of Anthology Film Archive’s Herridge program this Sunday.

As viewers ought to know, nearly the entire crew of the Pequod is doomed. They all realize it too by the start of the fifth episode. Starbuck just missed his chance to essentially “frag” Captain Ahab, whose obsession with the white whale will obviously end in disaster. Starbuck still tries to persuade Ahab to return to Nantucket, but the die is cast.

Moriarty and Herridge (the producer and screenwriter) never resort to plastic whales or drenching the cast with buckets of water. This is a Spartan set, consisting of little more than masts. The small ensemble relates most of the action in monologues, faithfully distilled (by Herridge) from Melville’s text. Yet, the stark use of light and shadow, as well as the cast’s powerful deliveries remain eerily powerful.

One of the saddest aspects of Camera Three’s adaptation of Moby-Dick is the hauntingly good performance of Gerald Sarracini as Starbuck.  At the time, he was an emerging star on TV and Broadway, but a street fight cut his life tragically short. Had he lived, he might have been considered in the company of John Cassavetes and Ben Gazzara.

It is also quite a revelation to watch Earle Hyman, who is truly magnetic as Ismail. While Hyman did indeed enjoy a long career, he is unfortunately best known for playing Cliff Huxtable’s father on The Cosby Show (which has fallen out of favor, for reasons beyond his control), while his early prestigious work on Moby-Dick remains largely missing and/or unavailable.

Furthermore, Peter Mark Richman (who was a staple on 1950s-1970s TV, including The Twilight Zone) might contribute one of the best portrayals of Stubb, of any adaptation. Of course, the Ahab makes or breaks every Moby-Dick, but the now little-known A. Winfield Hoeny (who recorded several spoken-word 78s) completely looks and sounds the part.

Fortunately (since this is all we have), the fifth installment of Moby-Dick stands on its own quite well, but it is shame the entire adaptation remains essentially lost. It still represents some terrific television, featuring a number of recognizable character actors, at their finest. Very highly recommended (and not just as a novelty), Moby-Dick Part 5 screens this Sunday (5/11) at Anthology Film Archives.

Video Comics: Hawkman & Swamp Thing

It took Aquaman’s reputation decades to recover from being mocked as the guy who “talks to fish” on Saturday Night Live. However, people often forget that Hawkman could also talk to birds (at least on some Earths he could). Admittedly, birds have much greater surveillance and intel applications. Plus, Hawkman flies and has greater-than-average strength. Nevertheless, he has mostly been a supporting character in film and television. Still, he had a rare solo spotlight on the 1979 Qube/Nickelodeon motion comic series, Video Comics, which you can find online to celebrate his Earth 1 birthday today.

Motion comics are pretty much what they sound like: a camera panning and scanning over comics pages, while voice actors read the dialogue and descriptive boxes. Early in its existence, the network that became Nickelodeon commissioned the Video Comics motion comic series to serve as filler, licensing content from their corporate cousin DC. Rights were probably unavailable for marquee characters. Regardless, DC apparently saw this as a venue to promote second-tier characters like Hawkman and Swamp Thing or fourth-tier characters like Space Ranger. The series disappeared in the early 1980s and only two legit superhero episodes have escaped online.

“Hawkman” is only nine minutes, adapting a back-up story from a 1970s issue of Detective Comics. In this case, the detective/superhero from Thanagar takes a case that might better suit Scooby-Do and Mystery Incorporated. Someone is regularly stealing from Bleakhill Manor, a converted museum that specializes in military art. However, the thief only takes the replica arms that accompany the priceless art.

Frankly, this storyline does not pass the logic test, but it is pleasant enough on a Scooby-Do level. It also shows Hawkman in his element, wielding hardcore medieval weaponry. However, it it is pretty clear E. Nelson Bridwell’s story was quickly written to fill out pages.

In contrast, “Swamp Thing” is a full 20-minute origin story. Technically, this is Swamp Thing #2, Alec Holland, rather Swamp Thing #1, Alex Olsen (from House of Secrets #92), but they suffer much the same fate. Holland is the Swamp Thing everyone knows from the Wes Craven film and subsequent series. (If DC knew how big Swamp Thing would get, they probably would not have licensed him for Video Comics.)

Holland and his wife Linda are developing a Garden of Eden-like formula in their secret lab nestled in the Louisiana bayous. The government assigned Agent Matt Cable to protect them, but he is a bit of an idiot. However, he waxes quite poetic over the spooky swamp country, where he grew up as a lad. Tragically, he cannot protect Holland from the shadowy syndicate out to buy, steal, or destroy his formula. However, his own research saves his life—but at the cost of his humanity.

Supergirl (Pilot), at Paley Center

It is hard to believe today, but CBS actually cancelled The Amazing Spiderman, even though it was a hit, because it did not want to be typecast as the “superhero network,” since they were already home to The Incredible Hulk and Wonder Woman. Most networks would love to have that problem today (or at least they would have a few years ago, before Disney+’s Marvel shows stunk up the joint). Yet, the same CBS let Supergirl fly off the CW after one season, because it was getting CW-level ratings. However, you can tell from the pilot episode how co-creators Ali Adler, Greg Berlanti, and Andrew Kreisberg planned to use Kara Zor-El’s relationship to her super-cousin, without Superman actually appearing. She would have preferred “Superwoman,” but the press went with Supergirl, so the pilot fittingly screens at the Paley Center as part of its “Girl Power” programming.

The biggest winner of the multiversal idiosyncrasies of Earth-38 (a.k.a. Earth-CBS) had to be Jimmy Olsen, who is now Pulitzer Prize winner James Olsen, who is also cuts quite a figure judging mild-mannered executive assistant Kara Danvers’ reaction when he transfers from the Daily Planet to her faltering paper. Danvers was set to Earth to protect her infant cousin, Kal-El, but Krypton’s explosion sent her pod careening into the Phantom Zone. By the time it came out, her little cousin was all grown-up and saving the world.

Danvers never really used her powers, preferring to grow up normal. Of course, her sister Alex and parent Eliza and Dr. Jeremiah Danvers (played by Helen Slater of the original Supergirl movie and Dean Cain from Lois and Clark) know she is different, but respect her choices. However, when Danvers hears her sister’s flight in crisis, she leaps into action to save it.  Unfortunately, that also announces her presence to a cabal of Zod-like Kryptonian criminals planning their own escape from the Phantom Zone.

It turns out flying is like riding a bike, but a lot of the other superheroing stuff can be difficult when you’re out of practice. Danvers is no Ralph Hinkley (The Greatest American Hero), but she looks credibly tentative during the pilot. However, the best parts involve the many clever Superman references and the way Kal-El offers support through his pal Jimmy Olsen, without overshadowing her turn in the solo spotlight. Obviously, his eventual appearance will be a big deal, which did not happen until Tyler Hoechlin guest-starred in season two—and later spun-off into Superman & Lois.

The Invaders: Guest-Starring Gene Hackman

The late, great Gene Hackman did not make a lot of genre films, unless you count Westerns, but when he did, he made them count. In fact, the first time many of my generation noticed Hackman was when he portrayed Lex Luthor. Frankly, for most of us, he is still the only Lex Luthor. A little more than ten years prior, he played another science fiction bad guy on TV—and he was pretty darn good. Fortunately for humanity, David Vincent still manages to disrupt his character’s plans in “The Spores,” the episode of The Invaders guest-starring Hackman.

“Tom Jessup” is the alien project manager overseeing the titular spores. If they can successfully incubate and grow, the alien species will muscle humans off own planet. Fatefully, an incident on the highway leads to the death of Jessup’s two underlings. They just seemingly disappeared before Sgt. Ernie Goldhaver’s eyes. Much to Lt. John Mattson’s frustration, Goldhaver told his story to the local radio before he could contain it, which in turn attracted Vincent’s attention.

Of course, our crusading architect zeroes in on Jessup as a prime suspect, especially given the way he clings to his metallic briefcase (which was much more suspicious-looking in the 1960s). Even though his Jessup persona is quite rough-hewn, he still loses the spores to a local punk, who assumes it must be more conventionally valuable. That dangerous Macguffin keeps changing hands as the episode progresses.

Frankly, Hackman is unusually fierce for a network episodic guest star. At the time, you might not watch him and think “this man should play Popeye Doyle.” Yet, in retrospect, you can see some of that pent-up fury and his knack for projecting a sense of physicality beyond his actual size.

Teen Titans: Snowblind, at Paley

KGBeast is one of DC’s most sinister villains, but his alter-ego, Anatoli Knyazev was converted into a good-guy on Arrow, because who could believe Russians might commit heinous crimes against humanity? So far, DC animated productions have been much more successful incorporating its Cold War characters and legacy, especially in Superman: Red Son. As a further case in point, the early 2000’s animated Teen Titans series offered an interesting take on Red Star in the episode “Snowblind,” which screens at the Paley Center as part of its Winter Frolic programming.

In this version of DC reality, Leonid Kovar, a.k.a. Red Star, was the lucky subject of a Soviet “super-soldier” experiment devised by the notoriously reliable Prof. Chang (a recurring villain in the animated series). Yet, much like the Hulk, the super-Soviet could not control his powers. When over-agitated, he expelled tremendous bursts of radioactive energy. Consequently, Red Star sequestered himself in an adapted bunker outside the secret military installation where he was formerly based.

Suspicious radioactive readings brought the Teen Titans to Kovar’s remote Siberian homeland. However, Red Star is not producing the energy they detected. There is something else terrorizing the local village, but they just assume it is the same radioactive devil they know.

Screenwriter Rob Hoegee does his best to play down Red Star’s Communist era origins, but they are inescapable. Indeed, Raskov, his former commander turned persecutor, bears all the worst hallmarks of the Soviet era military. However, this version of Red Star is an acutely tragic character, who is developed fairly thoroughly for a half-hour episode.

Planet of the Apes: The Good Seeds

Astronauts need to know their physics and engineering. Yet, since most of them have military aviator backgrounds, they are more likely to be the children of farmers than elite college professors. Alan Virdon is a perfect example. He knows his way around spacecraft and a working farm. The latter will come in handy during “The Good Seeds” (directed by Don Weis), the Planet of the Apes episode that premiered fifty years ago on this very day.

After all that training for G-forces, Virdon and Burke are in a great shape. In contrast, their chimpanzee friend Galen was a scholar, not an athlete. Not surprisingly, he twists an ankle while eluding a police patrol. Reluctantly, Polar, a gruff old share-cropper agrees to shelter them, but his eldest son Arto is not happy about it.

According to local custom, the family cow must give birth to a bull before Arto can lease his own farm. Of course, he assumes the humans will exert an unhealthy influence. However, Polar is quite impressed by Virdon’s irrigation and terraced farming recommendations. Clearly, the astronaut’s advice could boost his profitability and sustainability to an exponential degree. Nevertheless, the twitchy Arto bears close watching.

Although “The Good Seed” was the fourth episode to air, it happened to be the first one produced. Notably, this episode presents humanity in a much better light than its predecessors. Instead of bemoaning all our warmongering and tribalism, writer Robert W. Lenski finally gives us credit for our ingenuity. Instead, it is the apes who are mired in superstition and hidebound tradition, to their own detriment. (It is still way too early to start organizing to take back our planet.)

Although Galen’s injury has Roddy McDowell sidelined for most of the episode, it serves as an excellent showcase for Ron Harper’s Virdon, who has some rather touching moments remembering his family and his childhood back on the farm. Unfortunately. Burke makes a somewhat outdated reference that would have the Disney content censors clutching their pearls, but normal, healthy people will just roll their eyes and forget about it.

Planet of the Apes: The Trap

For the third episode of Planet of the Apes, the design team had to create a rubble-strewn post-apocalyptic San Francisco city block. Today, they could just film on-location in the Bay City—if they dared. Of course, Virdon hopes to find something, anything computer related, while Urko hopes to find (and kill) the astronauts in “The Trap,” which first aired fifty years ago today.

While taking shelter in a village notorious for offering fugitives sanctuary, Virdon notices some of the children playing with circuitry or whatever. Of course, he hopes to follow the wiring to a super-computer, but Burke wants to hit the road. That leaves Galen to break the tie. Being a naturally curious and adventurous chimpanzee, he sagely observes: “an unanswered question is a very difficult thing to live with.”

That is a good line and in general, this is a well written episode (by Edward J. Lakso).  Initially, Urko has the jump on the three inter-species fugitives, but an after shock causes a cave-in, trapping Burke and Urko inside a subway station. The apes and humans above and below must work together to rescue them before their air expires, but the gorillas frequently violate the truces they agree to.

The previous two episodes were hard on humans. However, “The Trap” shows apes behaving in ways they like to ascribe to humans. We start to get the idea human nature, in all its ugly manifestations, has nothing to do with the relative hair on your body. Rather, it is all about how those on the top of the food chain conduct themselves.

Frankly, the abandoned San Francisco does not look very much like San Francisco. The fight choreography, especially the astronauts’ dubious flying kicks, have not aged well either. However, this episode explores the fundamental themes of the franchise as well as any of the films.

Planet of the Apes: The Gladiators

Even in the year 3085, the rabble and the hoi polloi still enjoy a spot of blood sport. The apes rule the planet, but this local chimpanzee prefect unknowingly applies the techniques of ancient Roman emperors to keep his humans docile, believing his human gladiatorial games satisfy their bloodlust. Peerhaps the two time-warped astronauts saw Spartacus during the 20^th Century (the film, not the later series that betrayed its revolutionary values), but even if they do not want to fight, they still must survive the arena somehow in “The Gladiators,” the second episode of Planet of the Apes, which premiered exactly fifty years ago today.

Virdon, Burke, and their new chimp friend Galen could have avoided all this week’s trouble, if they had minded their own business. Instead, when Burke saw a stronger human manhandling a younger but weaker man, he jumped in, only to have the other turn on him too. We soon learn local gladiator hero Tolar was training his reluctant son Dalton for the arena. Initially, our three cross-species friends got away clean—except that Virdon dropped the flight-recording cartridge, which he stubbornly insists on retrieving.

Of course, they send in Galen to charm Prefect Barlow with his eccentric traveling scholar routine. As usual, at least one of the astronauts cannot help getting captured again, requiring a rescue. This time it is Burke, but in this case, it means he has a date in the arena with burly Tolan.

“The Gladiators” (written by Art Wallace) has a particularly Roddenberry-esque tone, thanks to the way the astronauts inspire Dalton to embrace his long-simmering Pacifist ideals. Frustratingly, Roddenbery would have joined the series as a creative consultant, but it was canceled right before his input could be reflected in new episodes.

In addition to Mark Lenard still snarling up a storm as Gen. Urko, “The Gladiators” has a second Star Trek connection in John Hoyt, who played the first Enterprise doctor, Dr. Philip Boyce, in the failed pilot turned Captain Pike two-parter, “The Menagerie.” He serves as a sly, old foil for Galen as crotchety Barlow. It is quite an episode for guest stars, because William Smith, maybe best known for appearing as Conan’s father in Conan the Barbarian, plays Tolan, whose son, Dalton was played by Marc Singer, which sort of makes Smith the Beastmaster’s dad too.

Planet of the Apes: Escape from Tomorrow

In retrospect, Friday September 13, 1974 was an amazing night of television. That was when Planet of the Apes and Kolchak: The Nightstalker premiered as original weekly TV series. Both were probably better than viewers had a right to expect, yet neither survived to a second season. Strangely, Disney has yet to provide Planet of the Apes a streaming home, even though franchise fans appreciate the full ape makeup and the return of Roddy McDowell, as a new character. Of course, the social dynamics (primates over men) remain the same, much to two astronauts’ surprise, in “Escape from Tomorrow,” the first episode of Planet of the Apes, which premiered exactly fifty years ago.

Three astronauts entered a vortex, hurling them into the year 3085, if not later. Their autopilot returns them to Earth, but the neighborhood changed during their absence. Unfortunately, only two survive the landing, Col. Alan Virdon and Maj. Peter Burke, but Farrow, a kind but simple-minded human, drags them to safety before the apes arrive. Naturally, they dismiss his warnings regarding the apes until they see them for themselves.

Evidently, other astronauts from the past found their way to the apes’ future world some years prior, causing great panic and commotion. Consequently, Gen. Urko wants to kill them as soon as possible, whereas Councilor Zaius wants to interrogate and study them first. However, his new deputy, a clever chimpanzee named Galen, is so fascinated by the intelligent humans, he inadvertently befriends them.

Back in 1974, nobody had VCRs to revisit movies at home, so the writers could take liberties with the franchise continuity. It is debatable whether it fits cohesively with the original five films, but the look of the sets, costumes, and makeup are certainly consistent. Zauis is the only holdover character, with Booth Colman replacing Maurice Evans. Galen is a new character for McDowell, who previously played Cornelius and his son Caesar, but his personality and function as a human ally are quite similar.

Shrewdly, the nicely paced pilot (written by Art Wallace and directed by Don Weis) does not waste a lot of time with backstory and it immediately introduces the apes, who are what we’re all here for. The three main characters’ escape from Urko is a relatively self-contained story, but it sets up the continuing plot elements, like Virdon’s quixotic ambition to reconstruct their flight recording, in hopes of somehow returning to his family in the past. It also features a great guest-starring turn from Royal Dano (a staple of 1970s episodic TV), who poignantly expresses Farrow’s gentle nature.

Valley of the Dinosaurs: Forbidden Fruit

Zeitgeisty media often come in twos. Usually, it is similarly themed films that release around the same time, like Armageddon and Deep Impact or Olympus Has Fallen and White House Down. We’ve had dueling Coco Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent movies. It happens in TV too. Literally fifty years ago today, two animated children’s series about modern-day families transported back to prehistory debuted. One was the hybrid-stop-motion Land of the Lost. The other was a traditional cell-animated adventure from Hanna-Barbera. Although it was not a huge hit, there was probably enough early-1980s syndication and licensing for Valley of the Dinosaurs to make an impression with some Gen X’ers, even though we probably missed the initial episode, “Forbidden Fruit” when it premiered on this day in 1974.

Logically, professor John Butler and his wife Kim took their entire family on his Amazonia research trip, including their dog Digger. Frankly, we can accept Digger, because he causes far less trouble than his bratty son Greg, who is the one they should have left behind. He will be quite a burden for his older teen sister Katie, who is often the one who must corral him. Nevertheless, they were all together in the raft that was swept up into a vortex and sucked into a “world that time forgot.”

Fortunately, Gorok’s neanderthal family befriends the Butlers, teaching them how to survive in their extreme new environment. They match up pretty well, since Gorok and Gara have a teen son, Lok and a younger daughter Tana. They even have a baby stegosaurus, Glump, who becomes Digger’s playmate.

In fact, Digger and Glump are all kinds of likably cute. Dogs and dinosaurs are definitely sure-fire, evergreen animation subjects, which were in Hanna-Barbera’s wheel house. Nineteen years before Jurassic Park, animation was still the best way to present humans and dinosaurs in the same frame. However, Valley probably did not earn many paleontologists’ endorsements, especially when “Forbidden Fruit” portrays a rampaging brontosaurus.

However, it evokes all kinds of archetypes when he Butlers mistakenly harvest the “forbidden fruit” reserved for Maligue, the giant (vegetarian) brontosaurus. Of course, most of the Butlers heed Gorok’s warning, but not Greg, who was a proto-Gen Z’er, refusing to listen to his Boomer parents, way back in 1974. Of course, Maligue smells his fruit, so he comes looking for Greg’s stash.

Shrewdly, Hanna-Barbera did not waste time with a long, drawn-out origin story. They give viewers the essentials every week in the opening credit sequence. Instead, they jump right into the adventures. Obviously, this series follows a formula, in which the Butlers’ ignorance (most often Greg’s) land them in trouble, but the scientific knowledge of Prof. John (who resembles a white-haired George Peppard) helps save the day. Perhaps when they are rescued, he will bring back some dinosaur DNA, just for the sake of science.

Johnny Staccato: Fly Baby, Fly

The way this classic jazz-flavored detective show depicts air travel is sadly dated. However, the protagonist jazz musician’s constant need to scrounge for money remains frustratingly true-to-life, as ever. Sometimes, our man on the piano is so hard up, he must do detective work on the side. He also agrees to carry a mysterious briefcase on a flight to LA, but boy, is that a mistake in “Fly Baby, Fly,” the one episode of Johnny Staccato the late, great Gena Rowlands guest-starred in, opposite her husband and legendary creative partner, John Cassavetes (probably their only collaboration overlooked in the recent posthumous tributes to Rowlands).

Even though Staccato needs to look after his hands, he still gets into a fight with an obnoxious club customer. Weirdly, Guy Fletcher takes a liking to the musician-sleuth, after taking a beating from him outside Waldo’s. He even asks Staccato to come round to his corporate offices for a special gig.

According to the cover story, Fletcher needs a trusted courier to schlep some hush-hush mineral samples to the Coast, so he can secure a profitable deal. Unbeknownst, to Staccato, Fletcher swaps the case holding the rocks with one rigged to explode when opened. Presumably, that will happen when Staccato checks on the contents when the plane reaches Arizona, as per Fletcher’s instructions. However, once the flight takes off, Staccato finds it quite a strange coincidence to discover Fletcher’s estranged wife Nina Van Ness is also onboard—and she is quite freaked out to share the flight with an employee of her abusive husband.

Although Staccato episodes only ran half an hour, director Robert B. Sinclair and writer Philip S. Goodman nicely build the suspense around the briefcase. It turns out Staccato’s annoying row-mate, pop songwriter Victor Morse also carries an identical case. In fact, this is quite a cleverly constructed and helmed episode. The only drawback is jazz plays much less of a role than other installments. Mostly, we just hear the terrific uncredited musicians during the opening number. The soundtrack album, composed by Elmer Bernstein, featured jazz greats (and studio warriors) like Shelly Manne, Barney Kessel, Pete Candoli, and Red Mitchell, who presumably performed on multiple episodes throughout the show’s run.

This is America, Charlie Brown: The Music and Heroes of America

Of course, Charlie Brown and the Peanuts gang love jazz. For years, their specials were scored by the great Vine Guaraldi—and to jazz fans, he was indeed great. They even had the occasion to talk about music, including several jazz masters in the final episode of This is America, Charlie Brown, “The Music and Heroes of America” (directed by Sam Jaimes), which screens at the Paley Center as part of its Independence Day celebration.

Schroeder has an important class presentation on the history of American music, but he is reluctant to hire Snoopy. You know that beagle is a wild improvisor. However, it turns out he could use some of Snoopy’s solo virtuosity. Much to his surprise, his portion of the program performing Great American Songwriters like Stephen Foster, Irving Berlin, and George M. Cohan are quite well received.

Then Franklin takes over to present spirituals, the blues, and jazz. Throughout the program, Lou Rawls sings (off-camera) standards like “When the Saints” and “Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen.” Ironically, even though this episode discusses jazz greats like Duke Ellington and Fats Waller, it was one of the few episodes of the series not scored by a composer known for their jazz work. While five previous episodes featured music from Dave Brubeck, Dave Grusin, David Benoit, George Winston, and Wynton Marsalis, “American Music” was scored by Ed Bogas (who succeeded Guaraldi as the in-house composer for Peanuts specials) and Desiree Goyette.

The Fall Guy: Elvira Meets Colt Seavers

Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, was quite familiar with John Carradine’s work. She featured several of his less prestigious “films” on Movie Macabre (to be fair, The Monster Club isn’t so bad). Fortunately, he probably never noticed or cared, whereas Elvira never embarrassed easily. Whether there was tension or not, they both guest-starred on “October the 31^st,” one of two Halloween episodes of The Fall Guy, which mostly likely will not be covered in the new movie reboot—but it screens through May 5th at the Paley Center.

In the “31^st,” Seavers and his proteges, Jody Banks and Howie Munson, are working on a horror movie so schlocky, it even mortifies its star, Elvira. However, she sees a silver lining in the manly slab of masculinity that is Colt Seavers. Throughout the episode, she makes it clear she has one thing in mind, with dialogue so suggestive, it is almost single entendre.

The production contracted to shoot on-location in the spooky Deauville mansion, because the old couple desperately needs the money. Nevertheless, grumpy old Preston Deauville remains adamantly opposed to their presence, because he worries someone might discover his secret. His opinion does not change, even after his untimely death. In fact, Munson and Banks worry Deauville is haunting the production from beyond the grave.

The ”31^st” holds the distinction for featuring the only on-camera appearance of the entire Carradine acting family together in one scene, when the three Carradine brothers play servants old man Deauville reluctantly lays-off. The senior Carradine is just as regally hammy as fans would hope playing Deauville.

However, the Elvira and Colt show is what drives this episode. Frankly, it is surprisingly they got away with all the wink-wink naughtiness in early 1980s primetime. Of course, Cassandra Peterson was delighted. Reportedly, she was frustrated when producers forced her to tone her Elvira persona when she previously guested on network series. In contrast, creator Glen A. Larson and episode writer Samm Egan let Elvira be Elvira. That led to Egan getting the gig writing Elvira: Mistress of the Dark, the 1988 feature, and Elvira returning to The Fall Guy the next year, in “October the 32^nd.”

The Omen (1995 Pilot)

The Omen franchise had a lot of success on the big screen, but its TV history is spottier. The made-for-TV Omen IV: The Awakening does not have many champions, whereas the A&E-produced Damien was not bad, but short-lived. A lot of fans missed the first attempt at an Omen series, because the pilot was not picked up for a full series. (It is also dismissed as non-canonical and related in name only.) Yet, because it was produced in the 1990s, NBC aired it anyway, because the networks took their viewers for granted back then. Nevertheless, it was indeed broadcasted, so it technically counts as a “vintage episode.” With The First Omen releasing this week, it is a fine time to look back at the 1995 pilot for The Omen, if you don’t mind searching for a grainy internet version.

Dr. Linus is about to find his missing colleague, strung-up dead, in a ritualistic manner. Tragically, it was most likely of his friend’s own doing, to prevent an evil parasite from devouring another victim. Of course, Linus inadvertently releases it back into the world.

Being a man of science, he is not sure what to make of what he saw, even when he is visited by Aaron Rainier, a self-described “hunter,” who dedicated his life to fighting the all-consuming entity. However, photojournalist Jack Mann has become a believer, after watching the viral-like demon possess and destroy his pregnant wife. He will follow its trail to a Boston hospital, where Dr. Linus has been called in to consult on an inexplicable contamination afflicting Annalisse Summer, a nurse who contracted it from late sister.

In a way, the viral hot-zone-like aspect of the 1995 pilot is a lot like the Star War prequels demystifying the Force with scientistic Midi-chlorians, except it is much more interesting. Although there is more science to explain the ancient entity’s powers, it still directly addresses issues of good and evil.

According to Rainier, most people burn themselves out trying to fight the evil virus, or whatever, which rather implies most people are inherently good. However, when it lands in an evil host, they develop a symbiotic relationship, in which the human accepts its presence, in return for power. At the end of the pilot, we learn the unseen force is heading west, as if it is searching for something. Could that have been a nasty little boy named Damien Thorn?

Unfortunately, we will never know, but the pilot holds up okay as a stand-alone. The pacing is quite snappy, which makes sense, since it was directed by Jack Sholder, who also helmed Nightmare on Elm Street 2 and The Hidden (which also features an unearthly entity hopping from person to person). There are a lot of big genre names involved, starting with Richard Donner, the director of the original film, who was on-board as an executive producer according to IMDb (but his name was not included in the broadcast credits).

The Hitchhiker: Ghostwriter

Unfortunately writers are not like painters. When they die, the value of their work does not necessarily increase. Trust me, my old house lost plenty of authors and hardly saw any bump afterwards. Somehow, that happened for gothic writer Jeffrey Hunt, except he is not really dead. He faked his death to reap the anticipated benefits. In contrast, movie fans always valued the recently departed M. Emmet Walsh, who invariably brought plenty of sly attitude to every classic character performance, like Det. Underhill, who is investigating Hunt’s death. Fans know it will be dangerous to underestimate him in the “Ghostwriter” episode of The Hitchhiker.

Hunt was reasonably well-reviewed, but he just never sold. However, his slimy agent Tony Lynch never dropped him, presumably because he was sleeping with Hunt’s wife, Debby. Naturally, Debby assumes she can finally be with Lynch when her husband reportedly drove his car into the ocean, to his watery death. She is therefore quite surprised and alarmed to find Hunt back home, having witnessed their passionate embrace.  Of course, she and Lynch quickly figure out since the world thinks Hunt is already dead, they have a free hand to murder him for real.

Originally, The Hitchhiker was supposed to be HBO’s slightly naughty dark thriller anthology, but the sex and nudity seem relatively mild today. The small ensemble is also packed with talent. Naturally, the drawly insinuating Walsh is reliably entertaining. Willem Dafoe is also quite satisfyingly creepy as the bug-eyed Hunt. Frankly, we do not see enough of him playing sinister characters.

Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Man from the South

With the success of Wonka, Roald Dahl’s kid’s books are selling like crazy, but for cool readers, his macabre stories are where it is at. Alfred Hitchcock was a fan. He “presented” six of Dahl’s stories on his famous anthology show. This one was later remade by the 1980s Alfred Hitchcock Presents reboot and the Dahl anthology series Tales of the Unexpected, but the first was the best. Fittingly, “Man from the South” screens tomorrow as a part of “Good Evening,” a program of Hitchcock’s TV work at UCLA.

When the young “Gambler” meets the young “Woman” in a casino café, sparks immediately fly, even though they are each recovering from a hard luck night. That is why he is initially annoyed when the mysterious Carlos invites himself to their table. However, his interest perks up when the rich weirdo offers him an unusual bet. If the Gambler can light his zippo ten times straight without fail, he wins Carlos’s convertible. However, if he misses just once, Carlos chops off the Gambler’s little finger.

This is a familiar story, because Tarantino spoofed it in his segment of the anthology film Four Rooms, the only good “room.” Yet, the original Hitch Presents production is still surprisingly tense, because Norman Lloyd’s direction is so tight and focused. (Lloyd, the prolific character actor, also co-starred in Hitchcock’s Saboteur and Spellbound, and later produced a dozen episodes of Tales of the Unexpected, but not the “Man from the South” remake.)

Of course, the legendary cast is another big reason why this is absolutely classic television, starting with Peter Lorre’s massively creepy performance as Carlos. He looks like a man who really wants another finger. He took his share of corny gigs late in his career, but this is the vintage Lorre we know from M, Mad Love, and, of course, the Hitchcock films Secret Agent and The Man Who Knew Too Much.

Police Woman: Wednesday’s Child (with Les McCann)

Les McCann is probably the only jazz musician whose cover of a pop song was a bigger hit than the original version. Of course, he had the help of the amazing Eddie Harris on tenor and Benny Bailey on trumpet for the bestselling live Montreux Jazz Festival recording of “Compared to What.” As a longtime Pacific Jazz artist, you would have thought a lot of TV shows and films would have recruited McCann for his soul-jazz sound, but Police Woman is one of the few dramatic shows to feature the man and his music. In light of the news of his recent passing, fans can check out McCann in the episode “Wednesday’s Child.”

Les McCann’s name is right there in the secondary credits for the February 6, 1976 episode: “Les McCann at the piano.” It is actually an electric piano, but it is definitely Les McCann. He is playing himself, apparently half-headlining and half backing-up vocalist and police informant Linda Summers, played by Paula Kelly. Thanks to Summers, Sgt. “Pepper” Anderson is about to bust cat-burglar Billy Dodge, but first they snuggle and chill to McCann and Kelly’s rendition of “Stormy Monday.”

It is not enough to bust Dodge. Anderson and her boss Lt. Bill Crowley want to get to Dodge’s boss and his boss’s boss. So, they flip Dodge to set-up the slimy Paul Nicastro, positioning Sgt. Pepper as his next mark. Playing Nicastro might have been one of Robert Loggia’s more memorable gigs at this point of his career, because at least he got to wine and dine Angie Dickinson (who, as usual, is filmed at least once wrapped in a towel, coming to and from the shower).