-
American Gothic (1995) s01e07 – Meet the Beetles
I’m not sure what iteration of “Make Bruce Campbell Happen” his guest appearance on “Gothic” fits in, but I was expecting more of a showcase. Campbell’s a state cop come to town at the behest of his sister (Derin Altay); her husband’s missing, and she’s convinced he’s been running around with Brenda Bakke. When sheriff Gary Cole doesn’t take Altay seriously, she calls in Campbell. Campbell immediately suspects Cole of being jealous over sort of girlfriend Bakke having other male attention and starts investigating him.
The episode opens with Lucas Black and his best friend, Christopher Fennell, traipsing around Black’s old, now burned-down house. They find a skeleton (and Sarah Paulson’s old doll), with the skeleton turning out to be Altay’s missing husband. Except he’s only been gone a couple days, nowhere near enough time for the decomposition.
Pretty quickly, both Turco and Cole realize the skeletal status of the deceased has to do with Beetles. The local, exceptionally creepy natural history museum is basically an excuse for boss Selene Smith and her staff to feed carcasses to the beetles and get shiny bones in return. Smith’s fascination comes off as obsessive, whereas Turco and Campbell both think bugs are gross. Cole doesn’t seem to mind them, though we also don’t get any scenes of him controlling them or anything demonic.
We do more of a look into Cole and Bakke’s relationship. He’s nowhere near as in control of her as previous episodes have suggested; Bakke’s character arc is the show’s second most impressive at this point. Black gets the number one spot (his arc this episode weaves through the police procedural), then Bakke, then probably Nick Searcy (who’s not around this episode at all), then Sarah Paulson (who’s got very little here, but it’s all vital) then incompletes for everyone else so far. While there is an exposition dump between Jake Weber and Turco before the opening titles, Weber disappears at that point. What with a special guest star and an actual mystery, no reason to keep doctor Weber around. Wait, maybe Weber’s there for the autopsy, then disappears. He’s definitely gone once the bugs take off.
Oddly, the episode calls back to that opening conversation between Weber and Turco at the end—she’d had an offer to cover a major story in Charleston, meaning she’d have to leave the show—when it turns out the offer’s somehow a Cole machination. Only there’s no explanation of how or why. Victor Bumbalo and David Chisholm get the writing credit for this episode, and there’s a big swing in quality. Not to mention the icky way dudes talk about Turco and Bakke, which is even worse when you think about how it’s probably sanitized what women would’ve gone through in the nineties South.
Despite the terrible video montages, the episode’s fairly good-looking. Director Michael Nankin does a little better with Bakke’s falsely accused femme fatale arc than Turco’s amateur investigation. Black’s arc fits somewhere in the middle; despite the excellent acting, Black’s treading water this episode.
It’s a real good episode. Probably Turco’s best performance so far, with great work from Cole, Bakke, and Black. And the forty seconds of Paulson.
Real good.
Posted on
Posted in
Tagged
-
Dracula (1979, John Badham)
This Dracula adaptation takes place in 1913, which is only important so leading lady Kate Nelligan (battling and sometimes winning her English accent) can be a suffragette, and her beau, Trevor Eve, can drive a motorcar. So there can be a car chase. Or three.
The film begins already in England. A ship is having trouble at sea; the crew is trying to get a wooden crate overboard, but they’re too late, and a wolf attacks them. On land, Nelligan lives with her father, Donald Pleasence, who runs a mental institution. Her sickly friend Jan Francis is staying with them. Nelligan helps out in the institution, where the patients aren’t so much violent as profoundly tragic.
After the boat crashes, Francis goes down to the shore and discovers a lone survivor and apparently the ship’s only passenger, a Transylvanian count. We don’t get to see him for a while; Dracula, down to the John Williams score, is a late seventies studio blockbuster. The height of pre-ILM special effects, many smartly executed composite shots, exquisite matte paintings, and Superman: The Movie moments. Down to Laurence Olivier’s stunt cast as Van Helsing, who isn’t a vampire hunter, just a grieving father. Francis is his daughter, and she’s not long for the world. Or movie.
The film’s first hour is moving the pieces around so Langella and Nelligan can have a romance. They need to overcome hurdles, like her presumed engagement to Eve (apparently, they both were just fooling around) and Langella’s desire to create a vampire army to destroy the humans. Starting with Francis.
But since Nelligan disappears in the second half of the film—she’s the vampire’s victim, the fair maiden the men must protect—the film loses its romance angle. Langella hangs out to menace the good guys, but he also vanishes for a stretch. The third act misses them, particularly Nelligan, who never gets to sit with her burgeoning vampiric attributes.
Instead, it’s all about Olivier, Pleasence, and Eve teaming up, though in stages. Olivier and Pleasence get one set piece, then Olivier gets another, then Eve finally gets to team up for the car chases. Despite the good guy plot being Olivier’s movie, he makes room for his costars. He and Pleasence have a delightful rapport; before Olivier arrives to check on Francis, Pleasence is an absent-minded dad-type. He relies on Nelligan for a lot of the institution work, and he’s settled into fine country living when he’s off the clock. He doesn’t even remember how to help someone choking; it’s been so long since he’s practiced real medicine.
When Olivier arrives, Pleasence becomes his Watson. At least until the third act, when there’s not enough room for Pleasence anymore.
Director Badham is often ostentatious; despite the English shooting locations, Dracula’s very American—just listen to Langella’s accent (or lack thereof). Or, really, Nelligan’s English one. Olivier does a heavy accent, which is fine; his performance just doesn’t have any nuance. He doesn’t need it, I suppose. Francis’s accent’s terrible, though. It always sounds like she’s mumbling.
The film wraps up with a conflicted statement about Nelligan’s agency under the patriarchy—Langella’s offering her real power; she just has to eat people—but it’s a reasonably successful adaptation. Langella’s mesmerizing as a dashing Dracula, and he and Nelligan’s chemistry is good. Pleasence and Olivier are fun. Eve’s fine. Tony Haygarth’s a relatively harmless but still terrifying Renfield.
Lovely photography from Gilbert Taylor and good editing from John Bloom. The Williams score is just okay; he doesn’t have a good “Dracula theme,” which he needs.
Great costumes from Julie Harris and production design from Peter Murton. Dracula’s often sumptuous. It’s a little slow, but it’s all right.
This post is part of the Devilishly Delightful Donald Pleasence Blogathon hosted by Gill of Realweegiemidget Reviews and Barry of Cinematic Catharsis.

Posted on
Posted in
Tagged
-
Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #258

Is Legion supposed to be camp? I’m not sure what else makes sense, given writer Gerry Conway’s actually quite good plot and his reliably insipid exposition. Quite good plotting after tricking me in the opening—I thought the splash page said the issue was jumping away from R.J. Brande’s bankruptcy plot, but I just hadn’t reread the exposition enough to understand what Conway was saying.
The Legion has finally met up with Brande, and finally discovered who took his fortune. Then these rogue science police officers attack them, and we get a reasonably good “Legionnaire’s powers are perfect for this situation” action sequence before cutting away to Brainiac 5’s prison island.
Brainiac 5 is not in this issue. Not unless he turns out to have stayed evil and just gotten worse because now the comic’s about a mystery villain. The cover says his name is “The Psycho-Warrior,” but one of the Legionnaires refers to him that way. It’s not his villain name. I mean, it’ll be his villain name, but it doesn’t make any sense. I’m not sure there’s anyone worse at naming villains than late seventies, early eighties Gerry Conway. It’s like he saved all the okay ones for Firestorm and everything else is like… “Psycho-Warrior.”
Conway toggles between the stories, the Legion and the missing fortune, and Psycho-Warrior breaking out of his and Brainy’s prison. Is he Brainy? Probably not; it’s too obviously logical and can’t be drug out.
Because there’s barely a confrontation between the heroes and this new villain (who already hates the Legion, making him just like all their other villains, who hate them for being shitty white kids). He does his escape thing; they go to the Federation Council to have a showdown.
The showdown’s bad but a good idea. If Conway had built to it over a few issues instead of just having a reason for the twist… might’ve been good.
There’s a good narrative device setting up the cliffhanger and then some otherwise lousy writing.
Maybe slightly better than usual art from Joe Staton and Dave Hunt.
This issue’s the last Superboy and the Legion. I wonder if dropping the Boy of Steel’s going to help Conway at all.
Posted on
Posted in
Tagged
-
Tomb of Dracula (1972) #25

Unfortunately, there’s much to talk about this issue, like writer Marv Wolfman’s use of a racial slur, which was indeed “Code approved.” It’s not clear if the speaker is supposed to be a bad guy for being a racist, which sadly tracks given Wolfman’s Werewolf by Night Black neighbor character.
The issue’s all about private investigator Hannibal King, who narrates the issue like he grew up on pulp novels. It’s the point, but it also shows how banal hard-boiled comes off when not done well or when done for a gag. Wolfman doesn’t do it well, and he does it for a gag. King’s new client is a recent widow, and it’s her wedding day. As they were getting ready to consummate, Dracula came in and killed her husband. Dracula’s motive has something to do with shipping coffins from England to somewhere else, but it’s red herring nonsense. At one point, Drac makes it sound like he killed the guy as a warning to his boss.
The widow comes to see King, who looks her over approvingly (she’s Black, so he’s not a racist if he wants to bang her). Now, he won’t exactly put the moves on her, but he’ll think about it, and he’ll be really shitty to her during their initial meeting. Especially after finding out her husband died. You have to yell at dames to make them talk sense, just ask Marv Wolfman.
Especially since the widow doesn’t believe in vampires, King tells her a bunch of stories about his encounters with vampires, including one with the guy who looks like the dude who killed Blade’s mother.
King investigates, roaming London (he’s originally from Milwaukee, which fits), getting into fights, narrating ad nauseam, and discovering how Dracula fits into this whole thing.
There’s great art. Gene Colan and Tom Palmer are made for London private eye stories. Wolfman, not so much. Worse, he’s doing that strange thing where he writes Dracula from the perspective of the humans, and Dracula’s dialogue’s all of a sudden worse. He’s Fearless Leader, not Lord of the Undead.
The end’s doubly problematic, but it’s such a gorgeous book… read the endless text fast, linger on the beautiful panels.
-
My Life Is Murder (2019) s03e08 – Gaslight Sonata
This episode seems to be setting up “My Life Is Murder: Season Four,” with Lucy Lawless unexpectedly getting an adorable niece played by Nell Fisher, who is apparently not related to anyone in “Murder” but is appearing in the next Evil Dead movie.
Lawless is married to one of the producers or executive producers or whatever. Rob Tapert. Is there a story? Maybe. Does it matter? No, because Fisher’s perfectly good. She’s ten years old and able to cyberstalk already, plus she’s sarcastic, so she’s just what Lawless needs in a protege. Fisher is Lawless’s brother Martin Henderson’s previously unknown little kid, whose mother wants to share custody now Henderson’s out of jail.
Fisher and Lawless have a great scene talking about Henderson. The show’s such an interestingly balanced ensemble this season, though Tatum Warren-Ngata has to sit this one out (to make room for Fisher, perhaps), and Rawiri Jobe again gets very little. Though Fisher does ask for a relationship update on Jobe and Lawless, which is maybe the first time this season they’ve remembered it was a thing.
While Lawless is hanging out with Fisher and doing acerbic but heartfelt bonding, Ebony Vagulans leads the field investigation. There’s a stretch of a camera brooch so Lawless can watch along, but the whole mystery feels stretched this episode. It’s too bad because Chris Hawkshaw, who wrote last episode, has a co-writer credit here with Stephen J. Campbell. The previous episode had a great mystery. This episode has similar trappings—all the suspects live in the same building, so Vagulans can quickly get from interview to interview—but the mystery’s not as good.
I think the death even involves another car.
Last episode, it was a car too. If Campbell wrote the Fisher stuff and they rushed Hawkshaw on a mystery… the episode makes a lot more sense.
Fisher’s a fine addition to the recurring cast; everybody—Lawless, Jobe, Vagulans, Naufahu–will be cute with a kid around. And Henderson’s struggling to do better ex-con makes for a nice character arc.
Really good direction from Kiel McNaughton, regardless of the pat procedural. However, the finale’s very tense, like Hawkshaw wanted to do a Rear Window homage, but there just wasn’t time. They couldn’t set it up and introduce Fisher.
So. Ho hum mystery, engaging characters; it’s a good episode for Vagulans and, of course, Lawless.
Posted on
Posted in
Tagged