Showing posts with label claustrophobia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label claustrophobia. Show all posts

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Happy Birthday, Bad Ronald!


Bad Ronald turns 40 years old today! Can you believe it? (Don’t worry Ron, you still look like a teenager!) All these decades later, and he continues to resonate with horror fans and TV movie buffs. His story put a spin on the old haunted house tale; the memories inside the house might be haunted but that ghost is alive! The gritty oh-so-70s voyeuristic vibe is hard to deny, and despite its adherence to the strict standards and practices of television, Bad Ronald is a completely harrowing trip down the rabbit hole (if that hole was located at the center of your house). 


There are soooo many reasons why I love Bad Ronald and it's not just me... Kindertrauma partnered up with Made for TV Mayhem for a celebration! So please stop on by and check them out. For now, here are a few reasons that I am crazy nutso cuckoo for Mr. Wilby:

Scott Jacoby is a a god. True Story: Coming from an interesting line of actor siblings (his brothers Billy and Bobby are just as cool), Scott led the way by making a name for himself in such hot cult items as Ronald, The Little Girl who Lives Down the Lane and Rivals (aka Deadly Rivals). He won an Emmy for his heartbreaking portrayal of a young teenager who discovers his father is gay in That Certain Summer, and it was those kinds of award winning performances that drew us to him. Willowy, and beautiful for sure, but Scott is also immensely talented (please come back to us!).

(Note: Kim Hunter is pretty cool too!











But I'm getting off topic... The beginning of Bad Ronald is painfully realistic: Despite how much I want to rail on Carole Matthews myself, she is truly an innocent victim. She's a brat too, but what can you do? Then again, Ronald doesn't start out as a cold-blooded killer either (if you ignore the novel which is much darker). He’s a sad sack, and unfortunately, utterly relatable.


Although some of the kids at my school were kind enough to not call me names directly to my face, much like Ronald, I felt weird. I was also an outsider who set their unreachable heights on the cool, cute and popular kid. Seeing the hip teens taunt Ronald and then witnessing the poor sod slowly going mad is like watching my teenage nightmares unfold before my very eyes. Isolation and geekdom walk hand in hand all too often, and even if we are the cool kid, these moments are not reserved for the local nerd (or so I've been told).


Ronald is a rat in a cage: Throughout his forced sequestration, Ronald begins to take on more and more animalistic characteristics. It starts with the mousy apple nibble right after Carole’s death, and follows through to Ronald literally living in a cage, curious but unable to seek companionship. He becomes a social experiment for the audience. This is a murderous teenager’s version of The Yellow Wallpaper.


Atranta Rules: I've promised myself that if I ever came into some serious cash, I was going to have someone come to my mansion and replicate the paintings from Ronald’s cage… er… room. Novelist Jack Vance (aka John Holbrook Vance) was primarily a science fiction writer and he injects a little bit of that far off fantasy land through Ronald’s art, which is translated perfectly on screen.


I’m always fascinated by the creation of Princess Vancetta. When we first see her, she is fully formed, but without a face. Ronald completes the drawing before Vancetta lookalike Babs moves in, but you can see how much care he went into creating his “perfect” woman. And he goes back to her, adding touches of flair when he longs to escape.


What's most interesting though is that while he envisions himself as Prince Norbert, the prince looks nothing like him. Ronald is completely disassociated from himself. I think here we might feel that Ronald is no sociopath, his problem is that he feels too much! Who can’t relate to that?!?


Of course, Babs would never have dated the creepy Ronald Wilby, but there is an instant connection – she is the first one to feel his presence in the house. They are instantly aligned in a way that only complete madness can bond together. The most disturbing romance ever? Perhaps. OK, and a little one sided...


Who doesn’t adore watching the comeuppance of a nosy neighbor: There’s something to be said for having the ability to scare someone to death! Take that, Mrs. Schumacher! I love that Ronald's only response to her death is, “They’ll blame this on me too.” I guess Ronald is starting to broach that sociopath thing!

And, of course, the Money Shot:




Bad Ronald was one of the first movies I reviewed when I started Made for TV Mayhem. You can read that post here, and you can read my review of the excellent novel this TVM was adapted from here.


Bad Ronald also got a high ranking on my top 10 list of the TVM's creepiest characters!

Happy Birthday, Bad Ronald! I know the Woods and the Matthews don't look too kindly on good ol' Ronald, but we love him, don't we?

Bad Ronald Art!




Sunday, January 20, 2013

Bad Ronald: The Novel


Although I’m sure there are exceptions to every rule, it’s impossible for me to believe that there are fans of 70s TV movies that aren’t head over heels in love with Bad Ronald. The film really set the standard for how insidious claustrophobia can be translated to the small screen. And of course, I’m not gonna lie, Scott Jacoby is adorable. But that's a side note... Bad Ronald is so ingrained in my memory that I can’t imagine it being done any other way, nor could I envision another actor eliciting sympathy for Ronald the way Jacoby did.

As many of you know, Bad Ronald is an adaptation from the book by prolific scribe Jack Vance. Vance was best known for his sci-fi tales, but toiled in many genres. Writing under his real name John Holbrook Vance, the author mostly eschews his more fantastical writing (although it’s also embedded here with Atrana), and writes a far darker tale of isolation, rape and murder than the movie could ever hope to strive for.


Yeah, you heard me. Rape! And not just one young lady falls prey to Ronald’s misguided attempts to forge a relationship. We are talking serial rapist and killer! And Ronald’s stature, which is described as bulky and slightly overweight did not bring up the willowy (and don't forget dreamy) Jacoby in any way for me. In so many ways Bad Ronald the book is nothing like Bad Ronald the movie. It certainly remains true to the premise, but while Ronald was accidentally bad in the film, he owns his bad in the novel.

While I was reading the book I began to flashback on films like Last House and the Left, and I find Ronald has a much stronger kinship with those dark and dirty 70s grindhouse films than he ever will with his bastard small screen step-brother. That’s not to say the novel isn’t engrossing. It is. In fact, it was disturbing and amazing and it was nearly impossible for me to put the book down. Vance’s blunt prose and claustrophobic setting threatens to strangle the reader at any minute.


In the novel, Ronald and his mother are sociopaths who have little concern for the victims or justice. Mrs. Wilby only feels embarrassment when she encounters the mother of poor Carol Matthews (i.e. Victim #1), and it is apparent that whatever broke up her marriage was most likely her own fault. Her overprotective parenting and unwillingness to punish Ronald leaves a dark legacy after she passes. After her death, Ronald finds himself further isolated and he enjoys existing as the ghostly shadows of violent memories and unanswered questions. That he could so readily disappear sets up the period well. Vance often refers to hippie culture, and the Woods, who are the family that move in after Mrs. Wilby’s death, take on the conservative voice against the subculture. Although the daughters embody a sort of late 60s/early 70s youthful nature (the middle daughter is a bit of mystic, and even admits that she might have been interested in Ronald under different circumstances), there is a sense that perhaps Vance was making some commentary on the state of broken marriages and lost youth from this era. The Woods are stable, if not well off, and seem happy in their nuclear family-land. Ronald, of course, destroys all of that.


Despite how gripping and suspenseful I found the book I still had a very hard time resisting comparisons to the movie, which is so much a part of my everyday retro loving lexicon! I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but because I could not separate the two, I was slightly disappointed by Vance’s book. However, that's my fault... I missed my curly headed Ronald that came packaged in the adorable Scott Jacoby body! And I digress again...

Long since out of print, the book goes for anywhere from $80 – 200 on Amazon. It recently became available through Kindle for less than 6 bones, so as you can imagine, I was all over it. I love to read the original source of TV movie adaptations, and I’m surprised that someone thought they could make Bad Ronald TV friendly. But they certainly did, and it lives on in our collective childhood traumas.

The book should be read. If you have an easier time separating the adorable Ronald of the small screen from the sociopath that inhabits the novel, more power to you. I guarantee you that either way, you are in for a suspenseful good time!

You can read my review of Bad Ronald the movie by clicking here.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Nightmare (1974)



Network: CBS
Original Air Date: January 8th, 1974

Patty Duke and Richard Crenna might be two of the most friendly faces on television. Many of us grew up watching Patty and who doesn’t like Richard Crenna? Seriously. The two were also an interesting duo on television, appearing in three projects together, one in the 70s (Nightmare), one in the 80s (the sitcom It Takes Two) and finally reuniting one more time in the 90s (another TV movie titled Race Against Time: The Search for Sarah). These two actors certainly shared chemistry and first showed it off in the underrated thriller Nightmare, which pits Crenna and Duke against a sniper!


Richard Crenna is the straight-laced Howard, a guy who takes everything a little too seriously. He lives in a comfortable apartment in chic Manhattan and and balances out his priggish nature by dating his kooky neighbor Jan (Duke) who is an actress and someone who takes the world far less seriously than Howard. On the evening of a small dinner party, Howard thinks he hears gunfire from a building across the way. He also sees a flashing light, allowing him to pinpoint the apartment. When he hears news that a sniper has killed two people in his neighborhood, he calls the police and is promptly visited by the no nonsense and utterly humorless Detective Rausch (Vic Morrow) who only takes Howard half-seriously. Undeterred by Rausch’s patronizing shove-off, Howard begins to conduct his own investigation. Unfortunately, as he’s peering through binoculars into the sniper’s apartment he is spied back through the crosshairs of the shooter’s rifle!


Many tele-films have riffed on Rear Window, including Someone’s Watching Me!, Through Naked Eyes and even a small screen remake of Rear Window, which starred Christopher Reeve. Honestly, the set-up definitely works on the small screen, as many TV movies played well with the claustrophobic setting. Director William Hale does tend to keep the setting confined and sparse, and the short 74-minute running span is somewhat brisk, and thankfully bereft of subplots. Things open up a bit at the end though with a pretty great chase through the streets of New York. There are marquees, lights and people and yet no one will help Howard.

Nightmare is never really pulse pounding, but it has quite a few tense moments. Once we see the killer has spotted Howard, the film concentrates on suspenseful set pieces as Howard and Jan attempt to find any kind of clue that will bust the killer, before he busts them! This film is a welcome and breezy tele-film that features both Henry Winkler and John Travolta in small (and uncredited!) roles.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Wide World: Mystery - Alien Lover (1975)



Network: ABC
Original Air Date: November 25th, 1975

Confession: I take my TV movies very seriously, sometimes too seriously. Many years ago I watched Danielle Steel’s Daddy, which featured Kate Mulgrew as Patrick Duffy’s ice princess wife. Her character is supposed to just abandon Duffy so the audience can see how he struggles to raise his family and find a new love, but Mulgrew really hit that one out of the park because from that moment on I hated her. I dislike her enough that I cheer whenever she is uncovered as the killer on Murder, She Wrote, because it only reassures the idea I have of her as a heartless bitch. Well, fast-forward to today and I have to say now I think I adore Kate Mulgrew. I know I’m certainly mad about Alien Lover and her performance in this offbeat film. So I guess I have to tear up my hater card and move on. Life is funny sometimes.


Mulgrew is Susan, a pretty but somewhat disturbed teenager who understandably went a little bonkers after her parent’s death. She’s just been released from the sanatorium and her Aunt Marian (Susan Brown) takes her in. However, it looks like Marian’s husband, Mike (Pernell Roberts) is less interested in his niece’s mental health and more concerned with her hefty inheritance. Their son Jude (Steven Earl Tanner) is a boy genius who has gained early entry into college. He’s coming home to greet Susan and he brings along his hottie roommate Richard (Harry Moses) who develops a crush on her. Jude has converted his attic into a makeshift lab where he works on all kinds of electronics. Susan uncovers Jude’s homemade TV and also finds a little man living inside of it. He's handsome, likes poetry and he tells Susan she is beautiful as he attempts to satiate her deep-seated loneliness, but everyone else outside of the television set thinks Susan is one tube short of full frequency.

Taking its cue from Twilight Zone, Alien Lover is pretty weird stuff. Most of the film follows Susan and her possible dissent into madness. The first half of the film proficiently casts suspicion on Susan’s potential lunacy, tossing the viewer’s sympathies back and forth. The second half makes it all even weirder, although we are pretty sure we know what’s going on. While the ending might not be a total surprise, those last few frames are a doozy! The small stage-like sets create a palpable sense of claustrophobia, as Susan's mind closes in on her, and the shot on video quality makes the whole event even more surreal, in that way only the 1970s could handle.


Alien Lover makes an interesting comment on the phenomenon of finding solace on the small screen. Susan has a hunky love interest, but she constantly turns to the man in the TV because he claims to understand the lack of wholeness within her. He recites poetry with her and plies her with compliments, creating the fantasy of the perfect man, while making himself seem unthreatening because the television screen holds him back from initiating physical contact. The natural awkwardness and fear of going into a first romantic relationship after the loss of a great love is captured rather nicely, while still delivering a sweet late night creepfest that can be enjoyed without all the critical theory!

The only other credit Mulgrew had when she did Alien Lover was as Mary Ryan, on Ryan’s Hope, a part she played for about 14 years! But probably the most interesting soap casting was that of Susan Brown and David Lewis, who would both become stars on General Hospital. I’ve said this before, but I think soap actors were such a good choice for the more surreal of television movies because they could manipulate melodrama into something tangible and interesting. Also, they could work on the shortest of time schedules, which only benefited the lower budgeted productions of late night TV. And again, as I’ve said before, I’m a pretty big Pernell Roberts fan, but his part here is only to serve as a voice against Susan. He’s given little depth, although he does make the selfish bad guy role into a truly unlikable character without a lot to work with.


ABC’s Wide World: Mystery is, well, a mystery to me. It featured many original films and some reused episodes of the classic British series Thriller and, for the most part, has lingered as a small historical footnote as far as documentation goes. Non-talk show late night programming had its heyday in the 70s and 80s during the reign of the made for television movie and both ABC and CBS tried their hand at this kind of line up. The CBS Late Movie featured the greatest programming title in the world, Crimetime after Primetime (oh, yeah) and they were both a sort of a hodgepodge of movies and reruns of popular shows. It was a great venue for the tele-film but most likely because it was littered with a lot of previously available material, it faded into obscurity. Since then, ABC Wide World: Mystery remains a distant boob tube memory of some fantastic films. Alien Lover is one of the more well known (and as far as I know, sought after) titles from this program.

Friday, May 18, 2012

Crawlspace (1972)


Note: I wrote this piece on Crawlspace for a class I just took on Frankenstein. Our professor wanted us to take a theme from the novel and apply it to something else. After deliberating over several TV movies, including Chiller and Prototype, I settled on Crawlspace because I was rather intrigued by the theme of creating identity through the idealized family unit, and I also thought this movie had made some rather sly nods towards Mary Shelley's classic. I really slaved over this sucker and ended up getting a rather fabulous grade, so I wanted to share!

By the way, if you really wanted to get your Crawlspace-on, you can read this older review where I compare the film to the novel. I've been taking a lot of lit and film theory classes and I have to say, I love seeing all my old favorites through new eyes. Sometimes school is awesome!

And Just a word of warning: this piece is a little long. So read at your own risk!

Oh yeah, and I hope you Enjoy!




 
Crawlspace: The Belly of the Beast
 
 
Although Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was written more than 150 years before the 1972 made for television film Crawlspace, the filmmakers have used the story to explore the Othered in search of identity through the romanticized family structure while putting a contemporary spin on it. Many products of 70s television observed lost youth towards the end of the Vietnam War, but Crawlspace handles this material of desire to return to normalcy in more opaque ways. In the film, Richard Atlee’s past is a mystery shrouded in dystopia; he is a marker for the Other, or a modern day Frankenstein-like creature, unable to move into public life. Portrayed as a feral man-child with no stories, no history and hardly any words to explain his past even if he wanted to, he invades the crawlspace beneath the house of Albert and Alice Graves in the hopes they will become parental figures to him. As those who are different from the norm, both Frankenstein’s creature and Richard play on our social fears of the domestic. While Crawlspace maintains the notions of identity creation through the idealized family, it also uses Frankenstein’s monster as a springboard to explore the terrifying disintegration of that same domestic mold of the 1970s.





On the broadest level, Richard is simply an outcast, a symbolic representation of the collapse of the countercultural movement as they broke out of communal living and attempted to drift back into the social order. With no apparent ties to anyone or anything, he aimlessly goes from temporary employment to living in a cave. On a narrower scheme, Richard is emblematic of the failure of that social order he longs to return to. As the number of divorces rose in the 1970s and more people chose to live together instead of marriage, the once comfortable and safe domestic structure began to take on new forms. In response, the traditional family unit can be also be seen as moving into an outsider station because it has inherited a less-than-normal status, branded by changes in the structure.

Richard is drawn to the Graves because they are elderly and childless, living in their own exile on the outskirts of a small New England town. The stigma of their infertile existence is denoted when Alice tearfully reads a letter from her sister that mockingly pronounces, “You have no children to tie you down.” This posits both the Graves and Richard as Others because each lacks the complete nuclear family unit. Their need for a child gives Richard both a metaphoric and literal open door into their lives. However, the couple originally rejects Richard’s effort to claim the crawlspace and lock him out. In response, he scrawls the word “GOD” on the cellar door. He is asking the couple to go against nature, and play God, recreating the monstrous Richard into something that can ease back into the social norm. The gesture indicates a pronounced need for recognition that can only be achieved through accepting parents because that is the one structure Richard feels can authenticate a wholeness. The couple realizes their responsibility and let him move into their crawlspace.




Richard tries to appease the Graves by attempting to give them the son they long for and he transforms the crawlspace into a symbolic womb, where he gestates until he emerges into his rebirth. During his incubation period, which lasts two months, he mulls over small items that he has taken from the main house and through these objects such as yarn and poetry books he begins to assemble the family structure through a patchwork of domestic ideas. In the “pregnancy” scenes, Richard remains hidden from both The Graves and the audience as the camera rests on the face of Albert or looks into the darkened abyss of the house’s womb. This space between Richard and Albert allows the older man time to construct himself as the fatherly figure, encouragingly speaking to the darkness, asking Richard to join the family. Richard is only shown in shadows because he occupies a netherworld of nothingness, and the fact that no one can access a full view of him indicates the character’s own lack of self.

The attempt to craft a family dynamic is seen immediately when he finally emerges from the crawlspace to join the Graves at their Christmas Eve dinner, looking a little like a Jesus figure in a three-piece suit. Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons: Spring” echoes in the background, denoting the transition from the chilly winter gestation into rejuvenation and growth. As the new creation, he is taking on a more normal human form, although his matted hair and wild eyes speaks otherwise. In fact, they are about the only things that do speak, as the new family stumbles through a pleasant but awkward exchange at the dinner table as each new family member attempts to conform to the Other’s expectations.




Herein rests the key to Richard’s character, which lies in his search for recognition and structure. Richard is clearly a derelict who appears to the world as an outcasted infantile adult, but he works at maintaining a “normal” appearance so he can acquire companionship and acceptance. Even his physical imprint speaks towards a lack wholeness. The Graves are told their “son” is “not likely to be traced by his fingerprints,” indicating there is an absence of records to prove he exists and it also gives people an excuse to continually negate Richard of totality. In another moment in the film that cements this idea, Richard attempts to reenter society by running into town on an errand. He is immediately disregarded at the local store, where the employees and customers alike snub him. The clerk eventually takes his money but refuses to let him return home with the groceries. He is chastised for doing good and is seen as a pariah because he is an unknown entity and does not conform to town’s idea of a “respectable” citizen. He continues to be invalidated of full personhood, which leads to a collapse in his fantasies of living within the established social order. This is a turning point of the film because his demands become excessive on his adopted parents and he begins to commit acts of violence, starting with destroying the grocery store, and the viciousness quickly escalates to murder.




Despite the fact that he searches for a way to reinstitute the traditional, he is unable to fit in despite his hardest efforts to transform himself into a Good Son because he is incapable of giving the couple of the perfect child they crave. The character’s inner struggle and frustration is shown through his deviant acts in society. Identity will always elude him if he forces himself and others to create something inorganic. He can only act out in rage when his fantasies collapse precisely because he is constantly denied personhood and not allowed a stronger voice in society.

Richard’s transgression represents the potential of losing control of the complex forces that work against the very social order that he is trying to protect. That he shifts so quickly from subservient to dangerous signifies how easily the traditional family unit can crumble when it only exists to maintain another’s view of what is normal. Crawlspace deems Richard monstrous because he stands as a reminder to the audience of the era’s prevailing social fears regarding the fragmentation of the conventional family. He speaks to the idea that anyone can become Othered when a traditional norm is removed. It is no mistake that Richard tells Albert he stays with the Graves because he wants to feel “safe.” Safe does not mean the home is loving or even healthy. It only indicates that it maintains the societal dictation of how families should be constructed. Richard represents what he, and perhaps the audience of the 1970s, wants to not be, so he seeks solace in a dying tradition, attempting to create a patchwork of family for himself, but it is not a natural setup and easily falls apart.




The conventions of the psychological thriller allow the film to explore the dangers of trying to falsely construct a community to selfishly appease only your needs. The darkness of the crawlspace symbolizes Richard’s demons that keep him outside of society. It also emphasizes how perception can overtake reality in a battle of wills. While the Graves seek out Richard in a mutual response to building a family, it is an unnatural construction that relies on the couple acting and reacting blindly to Richard’s unstable state of mind.

As a metaphor for the death of the nuclear family, Crawlspace examines the ways in which people desperately struggle to maintain a situation whether it is beneficial to them or not. Richard stands for a social anxiety and because he reminds people of the failure of traditional systems, he is marked as monstrous, even though he attempts to fit into the norm. The Graves have a similar struggle, but it is Richard’s overtly menacing presence that expresses the anger over the failure of something traditional. He has not chosen to be an outcast and therefore he goes looking for a structure that will give him an identity as a “normal” person. However, like so many dysfunctional families that choose to stay together simply to maintain appearances, Richard and the Graves have isolated themselves further in an attempt to keep scrutiny away. While family units have managed to reshape themselves into new forms in 2012, Crawlspace remains an astute meditation on 1970s familial anxieties.


Sunday, March 18, 2012

The Elevator (1974)



Network: ABC
Original Air Date: February 9th, 1974

It was the 70s and disaster was in the air. We mostly got it via Irwin Allen, who made blowing up big things pretty great. The small screen got in on the action too – Allen himself produced some of them, including Flood (1976) and Fire (1977) – but their smaller budgets wouldn’t always allow for such grandiose detonations and many TV movies opted for a claustrophobic slant. Terror on the 40th Floor made a decent, but flawed attempt at this approach, but The Elevator managed its confined setting in much more assured ways.


The Elevator is an all star event. Who knew you could cram Craig Stevens, Myrna Loy, Arlene Golonka, Teresa Wright, Roddy McDowall and James Farentino into one tin box? There’s even more packed in there, but those were the faces I instantly recognized. They are trapped somewhere between floors in a high-rise building that has closed for a long holiday. Even worse, the elevator seems to be stuck somewhere between the ten floors that are still under construction. On the outside are Don Stroud and Carol Lynley. Along with Farentino, this gorgeous threesome has just robbed and murdered someone in the building. Unfortunately, as Irene (Lynley) waits patiently in the getaway car, Pete (Stroud) is separated from Eddie (Farentino) and left outside the congested elevator. When Pete finally gets back to Irene, he realizes Eddie never made it and he has to re-break into the building. Eddie has a lot on his plate though, as he suffers claustrophobia and is not having a good time at all, especially with Amanda (Loy) gabbing on and on about a lot of nothing. She had ventured into the building in the hopes of finding a nice office for her son to lease. It is here she meets cranky leasing agent Marvin (McDowall), and he enlists Dr. Stewart Reynolds' (Stevens) classy office as an example of what this new skyscraper has to offer. This is pretty much how they all end up together on the elevator, which is set to plummet a few dozen floors at any minute. There’s also a rich kid who wants his trust fund to go directly into his teenage pocket and his mother who would like her son to be able to grow a beard before he can shop at Hermes. And Dr. Reynolds' wife (Wright) has also come aboard the deadly lift unaware that her husband has been knocking boots with his nurse (Golonka).


As you can guess, heavy melodrama ensues, and eventually Eddie just wants them all to save the drama for their mama and he pulls out his gun. He keeps creating problems for this motley band of potential victims while they work out their personal problems.

The Elevator is fairly suspenseful. Obviously, a huge chunk of the movie takes place in a very small setting, but director Jerry Jameson keeps things moving with the story involving Stroud and Lynley. Jameson would become an old pro at small screen disasters afterwards and would go on to direct Terror on the 40th Floor and Hurricane (both in 1974). According to IMDb, actor David Ketchum, who is probably best known as playing Agent 13 on Get Smart, co-wrote this movie with Bruce Sheeley and Rhonda Blecker (who IMDb lists as uncredited). This was Sheeley and Blecker’s only script and Ketchum’s lone TV movie, although he’s penned everything from episodes of Love, American Style to MacGyver. It’s an interesting scenario and well done. There were many moments I wondered how they were going to get out of that elevator or at least escape Eddie’s unfair treachery. For the most part, it all ties together nicely, although some stories are never resolved or hardly touched upon at all, such as Dr. Reynolds' affair, which is practically forgotten about in the first half.


Marvin and Amanda are the most fun characters to watch and while you are pretty certain as to what Amanda’s motives are from the get-go, Loy gives a sweet, sympathetic turn as her story evolves and we see how loneliness often befalls the citizens of an urban landscape, despite their physical closeness to one another. I guess there’s a message there, but luckily it never interferes with the melodrama and action, making The Elevator a pretty great ABC Movie of the Week.