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Briefly, Comics (4 May 2024)
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #270 W: Gerry Conway. A: Frank Chiaramonte, Jimmy Janes, Steve Mitchell. It’s a surprisingly packed issue, starting with the Legionnaires trying to escape a deep sea prison. On the surface, other Legion heroes investigate, getting into fairly regular battles with the Fatal Five. There’s also the interpersonal squabbling because Conway’s lazy with characterization. A decent issue for this creative team; badly done big reveal for the finish though.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #271 [1981] W: Gerry Conway. A: Jimmy Janes, John Calnan, Steve Mitchell. Despite Goodwin’s jarring second-person Dracula narration, Colan and Palmer’s artwork continues to impress, making even the most static dialogue visually captivating. The story involves Drac and a retired fashion model trying to regain her looks with a magic mirror (apparently mentioned in the Stoker novel). Meanwhile, the vampire hunters team up with Scotland Yard. Definitely an improvement over last issue.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #272 [1981] W: Gerry Conway, Marv Wolfman. A: Carmine Infantino, Dennis Jensen, Dick Giordano, Frank Chiaramonte, Jimmy Janes, Steve Ditko. Legion prospect and reformed (teenage, of course) super-villain Blok has now joined the good guys and we get his origin story along with his first official mission. Wildfire’s a dick to him (obviously) until learning the backstory. Blok’s more likable than most of these characters, which helps, and Ditko pencils are always interesting to see.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #273 [1981] W: Gerry Conway. A: Frank Chiaramonte, Jimmy Janes, Rich Buckler, Steve Mitchell. Conway retcons a story thread from a while ago only for it to be to bring back a big bad. We finally find out who drove Brainiac 5 so insane he tried to destroy the galaxy. Apparently, there was only one death and now he must pay. Goofy excuse for a comic. The art’s iffy, the villain’s fun.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #274 [1981] W: Gerry Conway, Jack C. Harris. A: Bob Smith, Frank Chiaramonte, Rich Buckler, Steve Ditko. Kind of cool, kind of bad issue about Ultra Boy not being dead just amnesiac and a space pirate. The Ditko pencils and the Chiaramonte inks clash, but it’s still a very well laid out book. Lots of cheesecake for some reason. And Conway flexing in strange places (women’s grief). Cosmic Ditko is cool too. The book’s very Silvery Bronze.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #277 [1981] W: Gerry Conway, Roy Thomas. A: Frank Chiaramonte, George Pérez, Jimmy Janes. Thomas takes over scripting, and it’s almost an improvement. Conway still has story credit and once the script gets absurdly talky, he’s missed. The Legion saves a sinking ship, which leads to suspense and heroics. Also momentum-killing blathering from Thomas. Then there’s a mystery hero, an absurd villain, and silly stakes. Some very unimpressive art too.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #278 [1981] W: Gerry Conway, Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, George Pérez, Jimmy Janes. Thomas’s writing is borderline insipid. He’s so weird about writing couples and there are so many couples in the issue. It’s a packed affair. While Grimbor’s energy chains crush the Earth’s atmosphere, Reflecto gets into a fight with the Legion. I’ll bet his secret is disappointing next issue. The Patterson inks are incredible. Sometimes the art’s not terrible.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #279 [1981] W: Roy Thomas. A: Frank Chiaramonte, George Pérez, Jimmy Janes. Time’s almost up for Earth’s oxygen but there’s always time for Thomas to wrap the Grimbor the Chainsman arc. It never stops being a little silly with Grimbor, who’s a blowhard in fetish gear, but there’s decent tension. The art’s not great but there’s occasionally effort. Thomas’s writing is improving, despite being banally obvious.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #280 [1981] W: Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, George Pérez, Jimmy Janes. Thomas’s writing falls off. His exposition is excruciating. The story has Superboy thinking he’s (presumed dead) Ultra Boy. After a long discussion about the situation, a team travels to the past to investigate. There they find Superboy a wanted man. Boy. He inexplicably messed up a nuclear detonation test. Thin stuff–with two desperate teasers pleading for attention.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #281 [1981] W: Paul Levitz, Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, George Pérez, Steve Ditko. Superboy continues thinking he’s Ultra Boy thinking he’s Superboy, the Legion hangs out in Smallville, and an old enemy appears out of nowhere to cause trouble. Levitz basically just does half a (very introspective) SUPERBOY comic (with delightful Silver Age-y Ditko and Patterson art), before doing a LEGION one focusing on Phantom Girl. Levitz just saved the LEGION.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #282 [1981] W: Paul Levitz, Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, Jim Aparo, Jimmy Janes. Scripting from Thomas’s story, Levitz does his best to wrap up the Superboy, Ultra Boy, Time Trapper arc. The resolution’s a bit of a whiff but the rest of the comic is so good it doesn’t matter. The art’s the best Janes has done on the series, with some able help from Patterson. Wonder what Levitz’ll do now.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #283 [1982] W: Roy Thomas. A: Bruce Patterson, Howard Bender, Jim Aparo. Okay-ish secret origin of Wildfire done-in-one. None of the detailed flashbacks explain why he’s a bigoted dick in the present. Speaking of–the inciting incident is him getting aroused by young hotties. Cool? Thomas is back, in his easy best issue (though it’s overwrought); still miss Paul Levitz (the tag promises his return next issue).
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #284 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Pat Broderick, Romeo Tanghal. Broderick does detailed future stuff and realistic, mulleted Legionnaires and it does not work with Levitz’s script. But the script’s got more problems than not. They initially seem to be doing a more sci-fi comic, but then it’s silly fake gore, and all the subplots are about the Legion being horny. I’m very sad it’s a Levitz.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #285 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt, Pat Broderick, Romeo Tanghal. It feels a little like a Saturday morning cartoon. It’s very sci-fi adventure, not superhero. But everyone’s in their goofy outfits. So cartoonish. The Legion is trying to save a spaceship repair yard. The art does better match the script tone, but neither are great. Levitz’s script is too horny and Broderick’s expressions are dismal.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #286 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Keith Giffen, Pat Broderick, Romeo Tanghal. The feature has some Legionnaires on R.J. Brande’s vacation planet when a villain decides to attack them. Broderick’s pencils are occasionally almost okay. But they always take a major dip. Some good dramatics in the script. Then the backup story is Princess Projectra and Karate Kid on her home world, where she’s got to defend the crown.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #287 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Keith Giffen, Romeo Tanghal. The feature has the Legion in political peril and a leadership crisis. Previously ignoring Lightning Lad’s resignation subplot, Levitz races through here. But the real danger is for the undercover Legionnaires on an ill-advised, unauthorized mission. The backup promises the next big story arc with a mystery villain, but LEGION always does mystery villains. Better art than usual.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #288 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Keith Giffen, Romeo Tanghal. Levitz’s got a nice device for checking on brewing subplots. He intentionally checks on them. It’s very straightforward and helps keep track of all the various Legionnaires’ storylines. The main one this issue has a Legion team saving Princess Projectra and Karate Kid. The art’s a little better too. There’s a lot of good action. Solid issue.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #289 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Carmine Infantino, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. It’s mostly a downer issue. Not entirely, but so much of the Legion is lost or injured, it’s not a fun read. Levitz is really putting them through the paces. Chameleon Kid’s ill-fated espionage mission arc gets the most time. Giffen’s pencils (and layouts) are giving the book visual character, even if Patterson’s inks aren’t right.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #290 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Frank Giacoia, Larry Mahlstedt. Strong start to “The Great Darkness Saga.” As the mystery villain plots, the Legionnaires can’t stop his minions from stealing magical artifacts. Fine layouts from Giffen. The art’s better at the action and sci-fi, not so much the frequent soapy talking heads scenes. Also, almost all the male Legionnaires say something sexiest, like Levitz was tallying.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #291 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Howard Bender, Larry Mahlstedt, Rodin Rodriguez, Romeo Tanghal. It’s an interesting issue–Levitz splits the action between feature and backup stories. The feature has the Legion bickering over the election for leader while the mystery bad guy goes after supervillains to drain on them. The election story and the captured enemy get resolved in the backup. The other big change is the art; the backup’s got real personality.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #292 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. It’s the best issue of “Great Darkness” so far. Levitz and Giffen choreograph these intricate and elaborate fight scenes between the Legion and the Servants of Darkness (the minions). There’re some discoveries and reveals, though the answers are still asking more questions. Levitz manages some character work, albeit patronizing, but the action’s the point. And the plotting. So good.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #293 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. The penultimate issue and the mystery villain reveal. The Legion also figures out how to defeat the Servants of Darkness–well, some of them; maybe. Lots of good exposition work–Levitz checks in on characters and lets them catch each other up. Good device–keeps the book moving. Great layouts from Giffen. The art’s fine but those layouts are choice.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #294 [1982] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. The “Great Darkness Saga” ends in a mix of LEGION sci-fi done right and Kirby homage. It’s big and bold, with Levitz racing to keep the story on track. It’s like he’s guarding it on the way to the basket. And he never slips. Wonderfully evil Darkseid too. Kirby but scarier. The finale’s rushed, but the epilogue’s strong.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #295 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Dave Hunt, Howard Bender, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Mostly flashback issue with Bender handling the pencils for those pages. Giffen takes it easy in the present. Timber Wolf and Blok watch an old Legion tape. It’s supposed to give Timber Wolf insight into girlfriend Light Lass’s ultimatum. It does not. The art’s bland and Timber Wolf’s a dip. Blok’s great. Not enough to save but close.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #296 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Levitz stumbles towards the end but otherwise it’s a very successful concept issue covering the Legion post “Saga.” They have two page adventures, sometimes interconnected. There’s a nuclear explosion and investigation subplot, so the Legion can be a little fascist. Just a little. Lots of righteous fury. And horny Legionnaires as usual. Low okay art but good layouts.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #297 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Cosmic Boy goes full fascist instead of the regular Legion-size fascist. He’s after the criminals who nuked his family and he won’t stop until they’re dead. The bad guys not the family. Cosmic Boy choses violence over checking their conditions. There’s some fine writing by the ending stinks. And the art gets way too design-y.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #298 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. It’s another “all Legionnaires are problematic” issue. They’re sexist, xenophobic, and cause wanton private property damage. Except Blok. He’s okay. He’s on a mission to a mining colony with Wildfire, who crap mouths him, their fellow Legionnaires, the mission, and rhe people they’re helping. All the dudes hate having a lady leader. Iffiest art in a while too.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #299 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. You know, outside the Legionnaires being testy towards one another, I don’t think there’s any undue hostility. There’s some good action against the space barbarian troll. Invisible Kid is still trying to find Wildfire, unaware of his teammates’ trouble. Plus there’s some light “starfighter” action. Overall, fun enough to overcome overtly patriarchal blather. Then the art’s bland but thoughtful.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #300 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Curt Swan, Dan Adkins, Dave Cockrum, Dick Giordano, Frank Giacoia, Howard Bender, James Sherman, Joe Staton, Keith Giffen, Kurt Schaffenberger, Larry Mahlstedt. Brainiac Five spends the anniversary issue sifting through alternate reality versions of Legions as he tries to save a mystery patient. The guest artists on each reality vary. None are ever particularly standout. It all seems rushed. Levitz does a little work on some of the ongoing threads. And despite Supergirl cameoing, sadly no cutesy for her and Brainy.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #301 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Chameleon Boy and his estranged father go to their nightmarish home planet so Cham can get his powers back. They run into trouble with their country-people, who consider them traitors. Then the rest of the Legion is hanging out, but mission assignments let the boys talk about how the female leader is the wrong thing ever. Good grief.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #302 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Lighting Lord comes to fight his brother to find out where their sister went. It feels like it takes a dozen Legionnaires to slow him down, but it’s really how Levitz is dragging it out. Then there’s conspiracy suspense with Element Lad and his science cop line interest. Plus more mystery villain reveals throughout, all for the forced cliffhanger.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #303 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Brainiac Five and Supergirl turn out to be the excellent pair I was expecting. They’re trying to stop a rogue artificial planet from crashing into a spaceship fleet. They’re not alone, but the other Legionnaires are just filling pages on the mission. Really uneven art this issue. Never very good but often really middling. Nice enough layouts, weak detailing.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #304 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Levitz uses his worst plotting device a few times this issue–keep something secret from the reader because it’s unknown to a handful of characters (but not necessarily most of them). It’s all for dramatic effect and always fumbles (here at least). The Legion trainees bicker with the girls cat fighting in lingerie. The art’s getting worse too.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #305 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Kurt Schaffenberger, Larry Mahlstedt. The Shrinking Violet mystery no one knew was a mystery until a couple issues ago gets resolved quite nicely here. Despite some yikes machismo from Levitz throughout, it’s a tense, compelling read. The Legionnaires’ investigation takes them unknown and unexpected places, with very strong plotting. And Colossal Boy not being a dipstick for once. Unfortunately, the art’s still sliding.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #306 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Curt Swan, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Wow. It’s all about Star Boy hoping his girlfriend loses her re-election bid for Legion leader because she loves it more than him. Star Boy’s whining his life story to Wildfire as the results come in. The flashbacks have a lot of charm thanks to Swan, even if they’re about an abjectly tepid character. Call him, Narcissism Lad!
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #307 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Despite the best art in ages, the issue plays busy and rushed. Levitz is kicking off the next epic and the big bad is a religious figure called The Prophet. One Legion team is tracking him (or his energy trail), while another hangs out at his target–an enemy world where the Legionnaires are playing bodyguard. It’s too unfocused.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #308 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. Besides some quick action, the feature is padding with the new big bad. He got space magic powers after the destruction of his science outpost. Unclear when the religious fanaticism came in. Levitz finds time for the boys to complain about girls not being demur enough. Then the backup is Colossal Boy’s mom being racist to his wife. Neat.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #309 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt, Mike Decarlo, Pat Broderick. The backup this time is Princess Projectra and Karate Kid’s honeymoon. All these backups just seem like too overdue character development. The feature is more with bad guy Prophet being able to kick all the Legion butt. Yawn. There is some checking in on simmering subplots, but nowhere near enough to compensate for the main event. This arc’s flopping.
Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #310 [1984] W: Paul Levitz. A: Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. I hadn’t been expecting much from this story arc and Levitz, Giffen, and company deliver even less. Giffen and Mahlstedt’s art has stabilized. It’s kind of a messy riff on Kirby. Fine if it’s your bag. But the action’s busy for busy’s sake. There’s a big unrelated surprise at the end, which feels like Levitz has just given up.
Legion of Super-Heroes Annual (1982) #1 W: Paul Levitz. A: Bruce Patterson, Dick Giordano, Keith Giffen. Even with some big bumps, Levitz, Giffen, and sometimes Patterson deliver a phenomenal annual. Brainiac Five messes up and an old enemy comes back to wreak havoc, turning HQ against the team. Levitz does it like a disaster movie. Also, he brings back the underutilized female science police officer from ages ago to strong result. It’s an outstanding book.
Legion of Super-Heroes Annual (1982) #2 [1983] W: Paul Levitz. A: Dave Gibbons, Keith Giffen, Larry Mahlstedt. It’s supposed to be Princess Projectra and Karate Kid’s wedding issue but instead it’s all about Dream Girl and her team getting stuck in the past. They go to Ancient Greece and find out the gods are just aliens. Evil ones. Gibbons’s guest art mostly disappoints. His figures are too bulky here. It reads well but it’s lukewarm overall.
Monkey Prince (2021) #6 [2022] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. While technically a bridging issue, enough happens it never feels like one. Yang takes the action from Marcus’s new school troubles to Black Manta’s schemes (involving Marcus’s parents), to the Trench, to Atlantis, with a flashback to the Monkey King’s hijinks as well. Oh, and there’s some Darkseid (because Monkey King fought him). Really good Chang art this issue too. So much fun.
Monkey Prince (2021) #7 [2022] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. The Aquaman… not guest spot, not crossover—stopover? Anyway, it continues swimmingly. As usual, Yang emphasizes the fun in this arc. Monkey Prince and Shifu Pigsy have to escape Aquaman to recover Monkeys magic staff. Except Black Manta comes looking to start trouble, with his cronies along for the ride. Those cronies are, of course, Monkey Prince’s parents. It’s another good one.
Monkey Prince (2021) #8 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. Awesome resolution to the cliffhanger, with Monkey finally conquering some of his self doubt to save the day. There’s also great payoff with the arc’s supporting cast, very unexpectedly in some cases. Only Yang punts the parents are science goons resolution until later, which is lessening the effectiveness of the arc… and Marcus’s character development.
Monkey Prince (2021) #9 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. Marcus and family head to Metropolis for this arc, but Yang skips through the setup. Instead, the issue opens with the big bad arriving on Earth and killing Marcus’s mom (or does he?). Marcus “discovers” some of his parents’ secrets, leading to him fighting Supergirl to protect them. It’s a rough start, but the cliffhanger reveal is outstanding.
Monkey Prince (2021) #10 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. Yang is able to fit PRINCE into the company-wide crossover without being derailed. It’s LAZARUS PLANET (the crossover). The issue spends little time on it, instead staying focused on Marcus’s experiences—teaming up with Supergirl, fighting villainous granddad, talking to his crush, birthing some clones. The usual. Great double page spreads from Chang.
Monkey Prince (2021) #11 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang, Haining. Well, I was sort of wrong about crossover success, sort of not. Monkey does go off to LAZARUS PLANET issues, while Dad and Grandad stay here. There’s some big reveals, with a Justice League cameo in the flashback, but it definitely feels like Yang lost the momentum and had to jump start it going again. It’s high grade fine.
Monkey Prince (2021) #12 [2023] W: Gene Luen Yang. A: Bernard Chang. Yang masterfully pulls off the finish, which opens with some more LAZARUS PLANET debris before recommitting to MONKEY. Monkey discovers the truth about himself—well, from a particular point of view—and goes into crisis just when his friends need him most. Yang sends to think there’s going to be a sequel, but stays non committal. Some fine Chang art too.
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The Twilight Zone (1959) s02e15 – The Invaders
One of my major complaints about “The Twilight Zone” is the ending reveal somehow distracts from the rest of the episode. It’s a “gotcha” moment. And The Invaders does have a gotcha moment, and it does shuffle star Agnes Moorehead off-screen ingloriously, but at least it doesn’t do anything to undercut her performance.
The episode begins with host Rod Serling explaining we’re at a farmhouse, not unlike many other farmhouses, except this one doesn’t have electricity. And its sole occupant, Moorehead, has lived on her own for many years. That detail seems to be setting up Moorehead not to have any dialogue. Throughout the episode, as she becomes more and more agitated, she gets more and more vocal, but there’s a hard limit.
The “no electricity” detail allows for much of the episode’s terror. Moorehead goes from hearing sounds on the roof to battling the unexpected–tiny little alien men. The aliens have heat weapons, which cause welts–one of Moorehead’s best scenes (in twenty-some minutes of great scenes) is when she’s silently discovering her injuries and trying to dress the wounds. They may or may not jet pack technology. The episode’s definite about how many Invaders Moorehead has to fight, but it also likes having danger behind every door, around every corner. It’s dark, after all, and there are going to be noises from their spacesuits, so why not amp it up?
Heyes does a fantastic job directing the episode, embracing the limited lighting–Moorehead’s on a quest for survival through the unseen familiar, but with new danger. Most of the episode showcases Moorehead’s performance. There are a handful of action set pieces; otherwise, it’s all about Moorehead’s expressions of fear, determination, and anger. With the scant details Serling delivers at the opening, we’re able to contextualize Moorehead’s experience until the twist, which intentionally turns it over.
Outstanding teleplay from Richard Matheson. Did he write all the little moments for Moorehead or were they actor’s prerogative? There are certain story beats–finding the spaceship, losing this candle or that candle, planning scenes–but when it’s not an effects sequence, Invaders feels more like Moorehead’s doing a one-person show and showing off. She’s spellbinding.
The special effects are adorable. The aliens are just mechanized toys, which someone had a great time making ambulatory. They mostly stand still and shoot at Moorehead with their phasers or whatever, but every once in a while it’s like somehow tossed them across the shot and–whee–jet packs.
The ending twist changes the entire episode–Rod Serling’s got to be the least reliable narrator in television history–but Moorehead’s already done such fantastic work, there’s no lessening factor. Also–highly recommend watching with the lights out. Heyes and cinematographer George T. Clemens clearly meant it to be an uncanny tale for the dark.
Oh, and the Jerry Goldsmith score is excellent, too.
This post is part of the Third Agnes Moorehead Blogathon hosted by Crystal of In the Good Old Days of Classic Hollywood.
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Tormented (1960, Bert I. Gordon)
Tormented is the story of how the world’s greatest jazz pianist (Richard Carlson) lost it all because he wasn’t a forty-eight-year-old virgin. I mean, also because he let his former lover, played by Juli Reding, fall to her death without trying to help her. Good thing they’re on an island where any peculiar death results in a ghost haunting. Hence, Reding can take her vengeance while also revealing Carlson’s skinny moral fiber.
Carlson’s on the island preparing for his big Carnegie Hall debut. At some point, he met and fell in love with local girl Lugene Sanders. She’s from a wealthy family and is “young,” according to Reding. Sanders is actually older than Reding, but… Sanders is virginal, and Reding is in showbiz. They’re a week away from the wedding, so many scenes involve Sanders being interested in the preparation and Carlson not being very interested.
Sanders’s little sister (daughter of director Gordon, Susan Gordon) thinks Carlson’s just the best and wishes he’d marry her but he can’t because she’s only ten. Too bad they don’t live in one of those places where you can get married at twelve. Yow and double yow.
Most of Carlson’s scenes are by himself, looking around for Reding’s ghost, who starts haunting him the day after her death. It takes him a few close encounters to believe it’s real, but then he spends a long stretch trying to ignore the haunting. If it weren’t for meddling water taxi captain Joe Turkel, he’d have gotten away with it, too.
Turkel shows up around halfway through the movie and, poking around, realizes either Carlson has Reding in some pleasure hideaway… or she might just not be anywhere anymore. That kind of information should be worth some money, shouldn’t it? Especially since Sanders’s parents are rich (the actor playing her father, Harry Fleer, is younger than Carlson, but mom Vera Marshe is actually older than Carlson, who’d have thunk).
At a certain point, the blackmail plot takes over from the haunting plot. Island horticulturist Lillian Adams seems to know what’s going on—even threatening Reding’s (unseen) presence—but then immediately disappears from the movie so Turkel can come in. Adams doesn’t even come back for the big wedding scene. The character is a blind person, and Adams does a lot of work for it, but there’s a scene where it’s apparent none of that work includes using the cane. See, Reding fell off a lighthouse, so everyone in the cast has to go to the lighthouse at one point or another.
The special effects are, frankly, too cheesy to be taken seriously, but they’re not poorly done. Some of them are okay. And Tormented’s got great cinematography from Ernest Laszlo. Most of the movie is profile two-shots, but they fine.
The same cannot be said for the music, composed by Albert Glasser. It’s a jazz score, but not a jazz piano score, and it seems like it’s for a beach party spoof version of the film.
Carlson’s not good, but rather convincing as a very bad dude as the film progresses. Gordon gets a bunch, and she’s terrible–though with all of the ten-year-old’s dialogue being upset about not being a sexual object yet, did she have a chance? Yow, yikes, and yuck.
Turkel is awesome. Sometimes, he’s good, and sometimes, he’s as good as the material lets him get, but he’s always awesome.
Tormented’s too long at seventy-five minutes, but the various curiosity factors keep it going until Turkel shows up and takes over.
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The Dark Past (1948, Rudolph Maté)
The Dark Past opens with a lengthy, confidently showy, and capable POV sequence. Lee J. Cobb is arriving at work, just like anyone–and the movie does a lengthy “peoples is peoples” bit–except he’s a police psychiatrist. It’s his job to save kids from becoming hardened criminals, thereby not being on the taxpayer dime. It’s progressive but not too progressive. Cobb’s not some wuss.
Cobb is outstanding in the film. It’s a sometimes silly role with the framing sequence, but when he gets to acting, it’s acting. Past is a remake of a stage adaptation, and Maté spotlights the actors. Well, Cobb and Holden. Cobb’s the protagonist and narrator, and Holden’s the star. The rest of the cast stays busy, but everyone gets left in the dust. It’s worst for Nina Foch. Second-billed, and she just disappears.
Oh, yeah, the setup. So, when Cobb has to convince a cop a petty criminal is a human being, he tells the story of his adventure with Holden. Holden’s so infamous everyone recognizes his name. But apparently don’t know anything about his very consequential involvement with Cobb. No spoilers, but the more interesting story is the direct sequel.
So, back to the setup. Holden and his gang crash Cobb’s dinner party. They need a place to wait for their getaway boat. While the guests give Holden’s gang minor trouble, Cobb gets around to psychoanalyzing Holden in a commercial for the Freud method. Holden’s a vicious killer who delights in toying with his prey, but Cobb sees some glimmer of humanity and tries to cure him. Foch kind of wants picket fences and helps Cobb.
The second act is Cobb slowly unraveling the very simple knot Holden’s tied out of his subconscious. Holden can’t unravel it himself because he has repressed memories, which only come out in his single, ever-recurring nightmare. There’s an inverted color dream sequence. It’s not as successful as it should be.
Despite his top billing, the film keeps Holden in reverse for a good while. Once the bad guys take everyone hostage, it takes time even to get Holden and Cobb talking. Partly because of Holden’s reticence, and partly because there are so many subplots cooking. Every single one of them gets left unfinished. The film often feels like the framing device is a distraction from the real story–which is sort of true because there doesn’t end up being a comparison between Holden and the kid criminal in the present. It’s not about criminals possibly being human; it’s about psychiatry curing them of their anti-social tendencies. Cobb’s not even concerned how the patient feels about things.
It’s craven, and it makes for some great scenes. Holden can’t figure out Cobb’s angle, and–with the frame defining the character already–neither can the audience. Cobb’s intentionally inscrutable; the only thing the frame helps with.
Lois Maxwell plays Cobb’s wife, who does get to fail Bechdel with Foch, but otherwise just sits around with son Robert Hyatt. He’ll end up with a bit to do before the movie drops him for the next subplot. Past is so noncommittal to its subplots, for a while near the end I thought they might even skip closing the bookend. At that point, with everything else unfinished, why do it anyway?
Maxwell’s solid. She doesn’t get much at all. Foch is good with a little more. Between Holden and Cobb, Holden probably has the edge. It’s a showier role, but he’s also got an arc. Cobb’s just proving one point or another.
While Past has its problems, the stars are phenomenal, Maté’s direction is good, and Joseph Walker’s black and white cinematography is beautiful.
This post is part of the 6th Golden Boy Blogathon hosted by Emily of The Flapper Dame and Virginie of The Wonderful World of Cinema.
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Zero Hour! (1957, Hall Bartlett)
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: fighter pilot suffering PTSD boards an airplane in a last-ditch effort to salvage a bad relationship only for the plane to serve rotten fish, requiring this unstable pilot to fly the jet to safety. And there’s an exclamation point at the end of the title.
No, it’s not Airplane!, it’s that film’s (still) unofficial source material–Zero Hour!. The difference being Hour plays it straight, instead of making fun of playing it straight, but it’s all the same material; only, you’re watching it and not supposed to laugh at it.
And it’s a long eighty minutes, especially once Sterling Hayden shows up to start barking absolutely pointless exposition.
The movie begins with narration explaining just before the end of World War II, Canadian squadron leader Dana Andrews made a bad call and got most of his men killed. Or at least a large number of them. Hayden may or may not have been one of those men. The movie’s strangely opaque about it. When we leave 1945 for the future, Andrews is in bad shape. Fast forward ten years, and we find out he’s never made anything of himself, despite marrying Linda Darnell and having a kid (an abjectly annoying Ray Ferrell). Darnell’s fed up, and she’s leaving, so Andrews chases her to the airport and buys another seat to follow her.
There will be numerous moments throughout Hour when it seems like Darnell’s going to have something to do other than debase herself at the altar of machismo. She can’t respect Andrews because he won’t get over getting those guys killed and man up. The movie simultaneously tries to show the horrors of experiencing PTSD while also lambasting him for having it. When Andrews has to fly the jet, Darnell’s in the co-pilot’s chair, and it seems like there’s going to be the couple teaming up to solve their problem.
No, not at all. However, that sequence features Andrews’s best acting in the film, when he successfully intensely stares straight ahead in static panic. However, Andrews isn’t the worst performance. Thanks to Hour’s casting choices, the bloated screenplay, and director Bartlett’s failings… every performance in Hour is eventually bad except maybe Jerry Paris, who plays flight attendant Peggy King’s boyfriend. Sorry, misspoke—stewardess, and not just stewardess, but “Stewardess,” most of the characters refuse to acknowledge she may have a name. Paris is bland, but he’s consistent. For a while, it seems like King might turn in a good turn, but then no. She also can’t stop looking into the camera in the third act, which just makes the whole picture seem more embarrassing.
Geoffrey Toone plays the doctor, who luckily didn’t have the fish. He’s absolutely flat and delivers mouthfuls of exposition. Hour’s script is pretty sure all you have to do to convince people it’s legit is use enough jargon. But Toone’s not forceful enough. Hayden’s arguably worse—heck, he’s arguably the worst performance, and Hour also stars former pro-football star Elroy ‘Crazylegs’ Hirsch, and Hirsch is a very, very bad actor. But Hayden’s a phenomenon, chain-smoking, yelling at thin air, staring into space. It’s a masterclass in how not to do a solo performance.
Though he’s not solo, he’s got a bunch of yes-men around to look worried (and get coffee). Charles Quinlivan plays the main yes-man. And until the third act, Quinlivan seems like he will get through Hour unscathed. He does not, but he gives that impression the longest of anyone in the cast.
The special effects are ambitious—except the lousy stock footage (including when the Canadian jet becomes an American Airlines one). They’re not good, but they’re ambitious. The sets are either too big, or Bartlett doesn’t know how to shoot them.
Skip Zero Hour! and watch the remake.
This post is part of the 2nd Annual “Favorite Stars in B Movies” Blogathon hosted by Brian of Films From Beyond The Time Barrier.
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