Sometimes you run into something so (wonderfully) bonkers, you are left a little beyond words. When the thing that is loopy happens to be a TV movie, you can sometimes count on the late great Alvin Marill to help clear things up. To quote his entry from Movies Made for Television on the 1972 telefilm Madame Sin:
In her initial movie for television, Bette Davis is a ruthless, all powerful mystery woman who abducts an ex-CIA agent and forces him to help her steal an ultra-modern Polaris submarine.
Thank you Alvin, this gets us started.
I mean, sure that description is outlandish, but where does the bonkers come into play, you ask? Well, first of all Davis is a half-Asian evil-doer residing in a Scottish castle. She has holograms of musicians playing enormous round harps, and her underground laboratory looks like the sinister workings of a Progressive auto insurance advert!
Flo from Progressive in 30 years
To help her along the way is the aforementioned CIA agent, Anthony Lawrence (Robert Wagner). He’s kidnapped somewhere in London by two women dressed as nuns who use the aid of a strange sound wave machine to throw Lawrence off his game. Out of sorts, he is flown to the castle, where he’s manipulated by a new programming device that works almost like a dog whistle, but with human-recognizable sounds. Turns out Madame Sin once had a tumultuous affair with Lawrence’s father and feels she can influence him with her familiar ties. To a degree this works, but the wicked Madame can’t stop herself from resorting to even dirtier tricks, which involve manipulations so wonderfully evil that it would impress the likes of the greatest small screen love-to-hate-them villains (JR Ewing, I’m looking at you!). And don’t forget, she delivers these emotional and physical blows to her opponent complete with false eyelashes and the bluest eye shadow I have ever seen! The fab obviously elevates her duplicity another notch.
Evil never looked so strangely fab!
Madame Sin commits all kinds of villainy, from faking deaths, to stealing and selling submarines for 1 billion dollars. But she’s at her best when she’s remembering her love affair with Lawrence’s father. She makes jokes no one quite gets ("we spoke only in Croatian!" har har?) and frankly, gets all bent out of shape that her lover never mentioned Miss Sin to his son. So, what does she do when she gets mad? She renders Lawrence deaf and throws him to the wolves of Scotland, which is really just a bunch of tourists who don’t want to be bothered with helping anyone. Evil, I say!
I'm here all week, guys.
As mentioned in Marill’s concise review, Madame Sin marked Bette Davis’ small screen movie debut. This TVM has an interesting history in that it was sold as a pilot film for a sadly unrealized US series, but was scheduled to play theaters overseas. Watching the unfortunate fate of Lawrence, one has to wonder if the series was meant to star Wagner at all, or if was going to follow the exploits of the great Madame (OMG. What did we miss out on?!?).
A board meeting of EVIL! Malcolm must be taking notes off camera
Shooting began in February of 1971 and the film generated some decent attention in England, where part of the film was shot. Bette, like all great divas, seemed to enjoy the response, but was quick to give credit to Madame Sin’s director, David Greene, whom she referred to as “brilliant… but different” in an interview she did for Sight and Sound magazine. She also enjoyed working with Wagner, who was also a producer on the film. In another interview appearing in Variety, Davis said that Wagner was “a very bright lad.”
Davis also felt that despite forty plus years in the biz, she was working on a role that that was fresh. In her interview with Sight and Sound she said, “This film is a new experience for me. For one thing, it‘s a crime fantasy and usually I like to find some way of relating to my characters. But how can you relate to someone as outrageous as Madame Sin? So I have to invent all the time. It’s fun.”
Life is good when you're this wicked!
True to her words, Davis looks like she’s having the time of her life. And that sense of fun isn’t just contained by Davis’ extravagant performance (complete with one of the best sashays I’ve seen in a long time. In short, she’s werking!), it can also be seen in the great Denholm Elliot, who plays her right hand man, Malcolm. He actually seems to be having even more fun than Davis (and was probably just giddy being in the same room with her). It’s impossible not to notice that subtle half grin that appears with some of his best dialog delivery!
Madame Sin: It’s so disappointing to beat men. They never admit when they’ve lost. Unlike myself. But I’m never faced with the problem of losing because I always win.
Malcolm: Well I’m with you. That is if I understand you correctly, which seems highly improbable.
Evil harpist must be a resume builder...
While the film can seem a bit campy with its strange premise and flamboyant dialog delivery, it had some serious money behind it. Davis’ simple yet outrageously gorgeous wardrobe was designed by the great Edith Head, and aptly places Miss Davis in head to toe villainous glamour! Madame Sin was shot mostly around London and at the famous Pinewood Studios, with some other exteriors shot on the Island of Mull in Scotland. Madame Sin’s gorgeous castle came courtesy of Glengorn Castle (aka Castle Sorn). The acropolis is not just a tourist attraction, it’s now a bed and breakfast!* In short, this film is an oh-so-70s feast for the eyes, and a mind-blowing treat of strange, and wonderfully bizarre filmmaking. While it isn’t a copycat of Wagner’s 1967 TVM How I Spent My Summer Vacation, that colorful and awfully fun comedic spy thriller would make a fantastic double bill with Madame Sin!
Location, location, location!
Unfortunately, despite the positive press the film received while it was in production, London critics weren’t so kind with the final product. Richard Combs of London’s Monthly Film Bulletin remarked that Madame Sin suffered from a “dull script, a wooden hero and an abysmal ending.” The film opened at the Astoria in London’s West End and pulled in a respectable but only “Okay” box office of $8,556 (according to Variety). It was the replacement for Anthony and Cleopatra, which had grossed half as much the week before. Therefore, I call it a success!
Its premiere on American television went over much better critically, although Davis’ TVM debut didn’t set the world on fire (shame on us!). Kevin Thomas of the LA Times said Madame Sin was “lots of fun,” and he enjoyed the “handsome production.” Still, the ratings were average, and the TVM drew an 18.4/24. Not horrible but much like its West End run, it was only OK.
Promotional still used in Sight and Sound magazine
This was actually just one of two pilot movies Davis shot around this time. The other was The Judge and Jake Wyler (NBC, 12/2/1972), which was a Levinson/Link telefilm (they created Columbo). Davis tones down the glamour in the role of “The Judge,” and doesn’t spend much time doing much of anything except talking the phone. Of course, Davis’ star shines in any role, but if I were to pick one show to go to series, it would be hard to turn down Davis’ unforgettable strut as the evil Madame Sin.
This blog post is part of the Classic TV Blog Association's Classic TV Villain Blogathon. Get the full list of participants with links to their articles here. And, enjoy!
*And thank you to Gore Blimey from the Trilogy of Terror podcast for helping me with information regarding Glengorn Castle. You're the best!
It's so difficult not to gush here. I'm a life long lover of Lance Guest, having discovered him as a teenager in The Last Starfighter. I remember his stint on Lou Grant, and always love when he shows up in something, like The X-Files (and am unashamedly beyond thrilled when he doesn't die in the Halloween 2 TV edit!) I'm so very excited and frankly, a little honored, that Guest took some time out to answer a few questions about working on the ABC Afterschool Special and television in general. He had a lot of interesting things to say about his time on the small screen, and he gave some great insight into the Afterschool Special, which was this month's topic over at my companion podcast, The Made for TV Mayhem Show! He also name drops some awesome TVM titles at the end! Thank you Lance, and everyone else... enjoy!
Guest and Sean Astin in the harrowing Please Don't Hit Me, Mom
Amanda Reyes: Please Don't Hit Me, Mom was one of the first things you did in film or television. Were you aware of the importance of the Afterschool Specials when you auditioned?
Lance Guest: First of all, no one ever asks about these shows, which were largely
part of what I remember to be a late 1970's-era attempt to deal with
problems kids might be having in a format that was marketed directly TO
kids. Although I hadn't seen many, as they were a little after my time
as an adolescent, I remember that, for the most part, they tried to
address some serious problems honestly, with a kind of PBS idealism that
was unique to that time period of American TV culture. I believed very
strongly at that time that TV had a huge influence on kids and was
worried that the industry's commercial profit motive would ultimately
overshadow any "message" or "value" that the show may want to put across
if it contradicted the pro-consumer agenda that fuels the TV industry.
It was a transition period from the 70's-era of social commentary,
dominated by the likes of Norman Lear, toward the Reagan-era period of
so-called Conspicuous Consumption, characterized by kitschy primetime
soaps about the particular dramas of wealthy people, which basically
served as its' own commercial for a more material society.
Yeah - I
wasn't even 21 years old. So, yes, not only was I aware of the
"important" intentions of these pieces, I was very much in favor of
them, as they were right in line with what I felt was the best use of my
skills as an actor. The unfortunately titled Please Don't Hit Me, Mom
was originally penned without the Please, which was later added in an
apparent attempt to avoid sounding unintentionally humorous (the title
was still lampooned by my college friends) but I was proud of what was a
pretty damn good show, and, which was in fact produced by Norman's
company. (I would eventually work on one of these goofy prime time
soaps for almost a year, about 10 years later -which, to its credit,
and in its own way I must admit, tried to address some of the same
social concerns,occurring, as they did, in the early 90's).
Guest in Please Don't Hit Me, Mom
AR: That was a really intense episode. Did you do any research on child abuse, and what kind of research would that have entailed? For instance, was there something like a child psychologist on set?
LG: As I remember, there wasn't a psychologist on the set of the show, but
in that day, the issue of child abuse was not a complicated thing to
understand, and sadly did not require a ton of research, especially as
it was presented to young teenagers. Pretty much everyone knew what was
up. Nancy McKeon was about 6 years younger than me, and always seemed to
have a pretty clear grasp of it. She may have done some research, but
as I remember, it was Anna (Patty Duke, Anna was her real name) that did
most of the heavy lifting, as she took a lot of the storytelling and the
presentation of the pathology on herself (as well as the supporting cast
of doctors and parents) I think it was my third or fourth professional job,
so I just concentrated on my own stuff.
AR: Are you aware if there was any impact on the audience after it aired?
LG: I don't know if there's a way to gauge the audience impact of something
like that. It's not really an issue that people are known to come
forward with, but our job was to, I guess, raise awareness, so that
people that saw it would come forward. Or a least to recognize behavior
that might point to the protection of another. (I am answering these
questions not having seen it in over 35 years) I think it won an award
or was aired in prime time - much like the one I did later, One Too
Many.
AR: So, of course I have to ask about working with Patty Duke. What was she like?
LG: Anna was very serious, I should say she took it very seriously, as her
own nine-year-old son Sean played the abused child. I had always thought
she was a tremendous actress, and I very much looked forward to working
with her. As I said, she wanted to be very precise with the pathology
and very honest with the emotion. I don't know what she drew on for this
as she is admittedly a survivor of Manic Depression Disorder and
alcoholism, but I don't believe she had personal experience to draw on
for this show. By the time I met her she was a mother in her early 40's,
and a fairly repentant former wild child, as were many in her
occupation and generation.
TV Spot for One Too Many:
AR: I am going to repeat the first two questions and ask about the Afterschool Special One Too Many. Was there any kind of research or preparation involved for working on a film about drunk driving? And do you think the special had any influence on the teenagers who watched it?
LG: One Too Many. I am proud to say that I'd had no experience with drunk
driving personally at the age of 24, and very little experience with
actual drinking. I required very little research to be "the sensible
one" of the duo of Val's character and mine. I'd had best friends that
were "adventurers" in high school and middle school, but I was very much
on the straight side in those years. Also, I don't want to sound as
though I never did any research or back story work on my characters. It
was just after about 1983 when I had studied with a great acting
teacher, Jack Fletcher, who had stressed the importance of research.
Prior to 1983, I just had high school and college theatre, neither of
which had impressed the concept of "research" on me (which it turns out,
is a very creative tool - more than you would think). My biggest acting
challenge on that show was 1) to keep a straight face - believe it or
not, Val Kilmer is one of the funniest individuals I have ever
encountered - and 2) not to fall madly in love with both of my remaining
co-stars Mare Winningham and Michelle Pfeiffer. Besides failing
miserably on all three counts, I was happy with the result. Obviously
the combination of drinking, driving and teenagers has always been a bad
one, and there have been anti-drinking propaganda films for as long as I
can remember, but it still remains a problem. Perhaps in the age of
Uber and Lyft, we will see less incidents. I felt the twist at the end
of our story hit pretty hard, and the acting and writing was overall
pretty damn good. I think the show was not only bumped up to prime time,
but was selected for some US Congress' official film to be presented to
schools. So we were government-approved.
Guest and Val Kilmer in One Too Many
AR:You were in three Afterschool Specials. Did you have to keep auditioning for the roles, or did they just bring you in when they thought you were right for a part?
LG: The Director, Peter Horton, had cast Val, Mare, and Michelle, and was
looking for my part when he saw Last Starfighter on an airplane and
called me up. So, I didn't have to audition. My follow-up movie to Last StarFighter was about to shoot, and I was in LA for a few weeks. That follow-up fell
apart financially and sadly never got made. That's when I went up to
Toronto to do [the telefilm] My Father My Rival.
AR: What was production like? For example, did you get a lot of time to rehearse and work with the other actors and filmmakers or were these very quickly made?
LG: In general. low budget TV
production - which is always what Afterschool Specials were - is always
fast, which means usually very little rehearsal. That said, I feel like
we got enough, since the object of these shows is not so much profit but
accuracy, so although it was fast and cheap, I always felt properly
rehearsed. Just in general, it felt good to be a part of something that
had as its motive some sort of message or awareness instead of straight
up entertainment. Martin Tahse produced many of them, and on Between
Two Loves, I experienced the joys of video-assist, which meant all takes
were "printed,"meaning that they had a complete record of ALL takes so
they didn't have to print ones they didn't use. Very reassuring to the
actor and very economical, as film was expensive and by editing on tape first, printing costs were limited to the handful of takes actually
used. This was 82 -83(?) - way before the digital camera.
Guest and Karlene Crockett lighting my fire in Two Loves for Jenny (aka Between Two Loves)
AR: In Two Loves for Jenny (aka Between Two Loves) you play the violin quite well. Are you a violinist or did you have to have some training?
LG: I [have been] a guitar player for almost 50 years, and can pass on drums, piano,
bass, and banjo, but I had to learn to fake the violin. I can do the
fingering pretty convincingly and had to be taught proper bowing
technique, but what they did was loosen the strings and put Vaseline on
the bow, so that it was completely silent and I just memorized the
dynamics and thrashed away to playback. Air-Violin - if you will. I love
the way the violin sounds and I saw my "teacher/coach" play a
Tchaikovsky concerto once that was so outside it convinced me that he
was the Jimi Hendrix of the violin.
Guest in Two Loves for Jenny
AR: I have to tell you, Loves has three of my favorite actors. You, Robert Reed and Karlene Crockett. What was it like working with them? Do you know what became of Karlene?
LG: It sounds like Karlene still does theatre. Her husband was a teacher and
friend of a bunch of my friends and my cousin Jarion up in Mill Valley.
He sadly passed away recently. I just remember her being very good.
Robert Reed judged/sponsored a Shakespeare competition back when I was
at UCLA which my girlfriend Kerry and I won in 1980 as undergrads. It
was $500 that bailed me out of a jam when I was down to $9. So I was
able to thank him for that. That was fun.
AR: Having worked on three specials, what was your overall experience on those projects, and being a part of the Afterschool Special legacy?
LG: As I stated before, it was really more important for me at that time to
be part of something that at least intended to have a positive effect
beyond just entertainment. I thought that everything was political. I was
over-critical of most of Hollywood's output then, and even though we
got paid very little, it made up for a lot of the less noble things that
all young actors have to be a part of. If I saw them all now, I might
find them a bit earnest, but compared to what my friend calls the "Get
the Nerd Laid" movies that ruled the 80's landscape for 20-something
actors, it felt rewarding, probably because I remember seeing the first
good ones when I was younger.
Making tough teen choices in Two Loves for Jenny
AR:Which of the three episodes if your favorite? And why?
LG: I would say all three have their good and bad points. Please Don't Hit Me, Mom (That
Title!) was probably the most daring subject to tackle, but I was not
that experienced an actor, so I don't remember how great my performance
was, but I respected it a lot. One Too Many: [It] was fun to work with all those great
actors and director, [and] was probably the most comfortably realistic
dialogue for those things, but my role was subdued and the least
colorful, but still fun. And Between Two Loves was the most dynamic character of them
all, but the issue was considerably softer, being just one of jealousy
and competition and love.
AR:You've worked in both film and television. I know film likes to go big while TV tends to go small. As an actor, do you feel you have to approach your roles differently, depending on the medium?
LG: Not really, especially between those two. On stage you have to be
bigger, or nobody gets it. I disagree that film requires bigger. A lot
of times film requires you to be smaller because the screen is so big.
TV can be 8 feet wide at the largest and cellphone-sized at the
smallest. Honestly, I don't make any adjustments. I try to be truthful
first and foremost and amp it up if the director asks me to. Which is
most of the time.
Guest in Lou Grant
AR:The character of Lance Reineicke appeared on several episodes of Lou Grant during the final season. What do you remember about working on that series?
LG: Again, my very first job (I was Mark the year before, but they just
remember Lance so that guy went into the next season). Talk about
setting the tone for what i wanted to do with my career. Lou Grant was
regarded as having loads of integrity, coming on the heels of All the
Presidents Men in terms of the public's taste for political news
stories. Great writers, directors, and actors. Everything I came to
expect from the industry was introduced to when I did Lou Grant. Most
of the cast was fairly radical politically, and Ed, who was SAG
president at that time came out (as a private citizen) with financial
support for the so-called Marxist rebels in El Salvador, while the US
government was supporting the other side. He got into all kinds of hell
for that, and I was on the show during the time he would show up for
work after having received various death threats. Ed has reconsidered
his behavior some since then, but I thought he was super cool. I was 20
and had just left college. My character was not so much radical as kind of high-energy, dorky and
impulsive. I had some great scenes with Linda Kelsey, Bobby Walden, and
Darryl Anderson, all of whom I really respected. I was totally
intimidated by Ed, who I had practically grown up with, watching the
Mary Tyler Moore Show. It was a great first job.
TV Spot for Confessions of a Married Man:
14. So much television seems to be lost. I couldn't locate the telefilms Confessions of a Married Man or My Father, My Rival. What can you tell us about working on telefilms in this era and if you feel there is an importance to making these projects more accessible?
Ok, well, like said before, I think, The writing tended to be better on
TV movies, than on many series. They often tackled important subject
matter. I auditioned for a movie about nuclear holocaust and one about
the nuns who were killed in El Salvador during the Sandinista Rebellion.
I was very excited about them but for the first one, after having a
perfect "nailed it" audition, they cast a guy who looks as much like me
at the time as anyone, so much that I thought they might've thought he
was me) and for the second, they hired my director for One Too Many,
Peter Horton (who is a good actor/director and a cool guy). But
interestingly, the director of that project, Joe Sargent, remembered me
for when he directed Jaws: The Revenge, and offered me a lead part five
years later. So, you never know what happens in an audition.
Promotional still for Confessions of a Married Man (dat cast!)
Confessions of a Married Man originally started as An Affair to
Forget about a middle aged, indecisive, somewhat neurotic intellectual
man who wants to leave his down-to-earth wife and two children for a
more mentally stimulating younger woman. The writer wrote it originally
for John Cassavettes, but the network chose Robert Conrad. Depending on
how old you are, you will either get the irony or not. When you read the
script, you could hear rhythms of Woody Allen or Alan Alda, and Bob
was just not really that guy. Bob Conrad is a macho Old School Hollywood
tough guy from The Wild Wild West and Black Sheep Squadron (who used
to quote Steve McQueen on Hollywood: "Where else can you live this well
without a gun?"). I thought, "Well this is gonna be interesting." I got
along with Bob really well, though and steered clear of any political
discussions.
I played a non-intellectual high school football
offensive lineman who has a five page scene at the end of the movie, which
was supposed to bring Bob's character to tears, and convince him not to
leave his family. When we got to the scene, they were going to cover Bob
first, and he announced ,in his Chicago-ese "No way am I cryin' in this
scene. Forget it. You're gettin' one take - and you'll get what you
get!" The director comes up to me and implores me, "We have to get this.
The whole movie doesn't work if he doesn't cry, and he won't take the
drops. It's on you." I was 22 years old. We did the scene and Bob
cried. He was great. Then he just walked off the set. Classic. I'll
always like him for that. Plus he was the star of one of only three TV
shows my actual fighter pilot Dad would watch (Black Sheep Squadron) So
that was fun. I had great scenes with my Mom, played by Jennifer Warren
(who was Awesome). I used those scenes on my demo reel, instead of Last
Starfighter for years. Don't know why. I guess I couldn't decide which
ones to use. I don't know if anyone saw that movie, but I was happy with
how it came out.
The same goes for The Roommate, which
wasn't really, by format, a TV movie from the outset. Originally it was
produced for PBS American Playhouse, which had been a pretty
prestigious program during the 80's. It was based on a John Updike short
story from the 50s, and the writer/producer Neil Miller and director
Nell Cox decided they would shoot this low-budget piece in 35mm and try
to make it an indie feature. They already had a deal with PBS but the
extra production value of the time period would kick it up a notch. It
was basically a 1952 college-roommate Odd Couple, Barry Miller played
beatnik purist Ghandi-disciple Hub from Portland OR, and I was uptight, religious, All American weenie Orson from South Dakota. It certainly
played more like a feature than most TV movies, although it had a smaller
"scope" as my screenwriter friend would say. And sadly it was never
released commercially, but we did win the Grand Prize at the LA Indie Film Festival in 1985.
The Roommate
As a film experience it was
unlike anything I had ever done, or will ever do. Updike's original
story tended to be heady and deliberately uncomfortable, while the
demands on a college-age target-demographic for a commercial film shared
more with the college memoir comedies of that time, although certainly
not as obvious. Those of us that thought we were making an "art film"
shuddered at the incorrect notion that we would be making another Porky's. We were totally overreacting, but it was often contentious.
Barry, an outspoken perfectionist, and I were solid with each other and
would often stay up till four in the morning rehearsing, trying to get what
the scenes were about, often suggesting alternate "beats." I must say,
the writer/ producer and the director respectfully listened to our ideas, and sometimes used them, but the overall feeling was that we were all collaborating. It
was the most fun I've ever had making a movie. By the end we didn't
know what we had, but when I saw it, I felt like everyone really got
what they wanted.
It won other festival awards, in Chicago and Toronto, I
think, but was never released commercially. It aired on PBS in 1985. My
parents liked it. I was so proud of having done an independent film
that I used only this show on my demo reel for a few years,
inadvertently causing my only auditions to be for solely uptight Midwestern weenies. I was so naively anti-studio and anti-mainstream
that I only wanted to appear in independent films. This was about 3 or 4
years before indies were really hip (in the late 80s early 90s).
Guest in Lou Grant
The next year, after I was told Last Starfighter didn't make any
money at the box office, and a couple weeks after after my follow-up
project (another indie film) fell apart, the newly founded HBO original
programming department offered me what was presented as another Afterschool Special, but was really another TV movie for HBO. The original
title had been Dark But Full of Diamonds, about a kid who loses his
mom at 12 years old and falls in love with his swimming teacher, maybe 6
years his senior, who then starts dating his dad. when my character is 6
years older - so, at 18. My character was a lot of fun to play and I
was working with Wendy Crewson, who I liked a lot as an actor. I played
all the "Pissed off at Dad" notes with all the Freudian indignant
transference and awkwardness, and it ended up pretty well. I had a great
time in Toronto, where we shot it, although the fine director, Claude
Jutra, didn't speak much English. The title was changed to My Father, My
Rival, in my opinion, another title a little too "On the Nose."
So that's all I can say about the TV movies (or Movie Of the Week, as they used
to be called) that I had anything to do with. I had been a fan of them
when I was a kid in the 70's: Duel, Tribes, The Night Strangler, Sunshine, Melvin Purvis: G-man are the ones that stick out. But as
the 80's went on, the TV movie demographic was identified as the
"shopping housewife" so, whether that was deserving or not, the content,
as a result, became exclusively stories of divorce, cheating husbands,
murdered girlfriends, rape cases, lost children, poor little rich girls,
etc. And usually by page 75, the leading female character has a
"make-over montage" that is supposed to signify her "moving on,"
conveniently, providing a custom "commercial between commercials" to
satisfy the sponsors. But the original reputation of the TV movie had
been earned by more original content. Nowadays, with a company like HBO,
the content seems less driven by commercial interests, and more pure
story, or niche genres.
Welcome to a fantastic TV Movie Blogathon, hosted by the fine folks at The Classic Film and TV Cafe! You can check out all of the entries here. And, keep the TV movie love alive, y'all (and enjoy!)!
Network:
NBC Original airdate:
October 29th, 1974
A mainstay of the 1970s TV movie, Robert Culp was like a really aggressive and somewhat intimidating version of the Everyman. He had a quality that made him feel forceful, while also giving off a vibe that you could get a beer with him after work. It was this contradiction, perhaps, that made him such an intriguing figure during the heyday of the Movie of the Week. He was already a well known face on the small screen having appeared in Trackdown (1957-1959), and the enduring I, Spy from 1965-1968. Spy was a somewhat gritty series (gritty by the standards of the many James Bond riffs that appeared on TV during this era) and it was also unbelievably charming, and it shot handsome Culp to stardom. Afterwards, he was fixture on the telefilm circuit, and turned in some notable cult favorites, including what is arguably his most fondly remembered telefilm, A Cold Night’s Death (aka The Chill Factor, 1973), as well as the outrageously fantastic Outrage (also 1973), and the groovy Spectre (1977). He was also in a few questionable, but arguably entertaining TVMs, including Houston, We’ve Got a Problem (1974), and Flood 1977). And, somewhere in the middle of that spectrum were some really good films that fell by the wayside, including the Levinson and Link drama Cry for Help (1975), and the odd and suspenseful Strange Homecoming, which gave Culp a chance to really tap into his darker side, while still maintaining that air of likability that made us love him.
Culp is Jack, a globetrotting jewelry thief who finds himself on the run after a botched robbery ends in the death of a wealthy socialite. Jack heads back to his small hometown, where’s he’s seen as a successful and sophisticated businessman. He ends up staying with his brother, Bill who is now the local sheriff, and married to Elaine (the incredibly underrated Barbara Anderson), and their two kids (one of whom is a very young Leif Garrett!). He tries to live his life as the much adored brother/uncle who never visits enough, but cracks in the exterior give way almost immediately, yet seem so insignificant that his family just looks the other way. But Jack can’t seem to stay away from committing more illegal, or at least questionable, acts, and it doesn’t take too long for Bill to put the pieces together.
Originally titled Everybody Loves Uncle Jack, Strange Homecoming in an absorbing thriller, but more so, it’s a dark character study of a man who may not be the clinical definition of a sociopath, but whose lack of remorse and sense of responsibility really play on the fears that we all have a dark side. Jack is layered and can be seen as both good and bad, and that’s what makes him scary. You want to love him the way his family does, but as we see from the viewer’s perspective, murder is just another bump in the road for good ol’ Jack, and he has no intentions of ever stopping his burglary operation.
While Glen Campbell was a fixture on the small screen during this era (and beyond), this was his one and only television film. Campbell is obviously better known as a musician, but he puts in an extremely measured and under the radar performance as Bill, the guy who loves his brother, but has to come to terms with the crimes he’s committed. It’s a pity that his filmography as an actor wasn’t longer. What could have easily been a buffoon-ish small town sheriff stereotype is nuanced to great effect by Campbell, and the wonderfully astute writing from the team comprised of Eric Bercovici and Jerrold L. Ludwig, who worked together on everything from Hawaii 5-O to Three the Hard Way! The duo wrote several television films, including The Deadly Hunt (1971) and Log of the Black Pearl (1975), and show an incredible knack for generating suspense in both the quiet and more action packed moments.
But let’s face it, sure, everyone is fantastic, but this is Culp’s baby. He is at once both terrifying and attractive, and like all good Culp performances (which is to say, everything he’s ever done), when the ball is in his corner, expect the unexpected. And, honestly, that’s what’s so great about this little thriller. It is quietly disarming, and unsettling.
Kevin Thomas of the LA Times called Strange Homecoming, “a first rate suspense thriller in the Alfred Hitchcock tradition.” NBC was certainly banking on its success, as they put it into their new telefilm program slot that was called the NBC World Premiere Movie. Linda Blair and the notorious Born Innocent had been the first telefilm to play under this umbrella, airing approximately one month earlier, and the network continued to put out some interesting, somewhat high concept heavy hitters for this new season, including Strange and Deadly Occurrence, Where Have all the People Gone, and The Dream Makers.
Strange Homecoming ran against the ABC’s Movie of the Week’s remake of The Mark of Zorro, starring Ricardo Montalban and Frank Langella. What a night for TV!
The NBC World Premiere Movie slightly outranked the popular but waning ABC Tuesday Movie of the Week (both aired on the same night), coming in at number 30 by mid-season, whereas the ABC MOW had dropped to 32, and was on its way to cancellation at the end of the 1974-75 season (sad face). Still, while landing in the 30s for the year may seem mid-range, telefilms continued to air several nights a week, and there was still oodles of original and intriguing content under production. Perhaps it’s this middling, near the end-of-an-era stage that the TVM found itself in 1974 that Strange Homecoming has fallen a bit by the wayside, but it’s due for rediscovery. It’s an absolutely magnificent example of the type of undervalued character driven suspense that was landing in our living rooms almost every night. And viva la Culp, y'all!
Promotional still of Culp and Campbell in Strange Homecoming
I admit that I have a mostly casual relationship with the long running Perry Mason TV series. This association was so informal, in fact, that the only guest star I could rattle off the top of my head was Bert Convy, which is a surprise to no one, I’m sure. However, when MeTV began re-airing the Mason movies in 2013, I fell hard for the telefilms (and a handsome bearded Burr), even though I think they may be a bit like the 90s Columbo reboot in terms of being considered a step down in quality. But, there was drama, mystery and intrigue, William Katt and William Moses, and a whole lot of Raymond Burr commanding the screen. In short, I couldn’t get enough!
There’s been a few books on the Perry Mason television series, but to the best of my knowledge, there is little writing about the run of telefilms that graced our small screens from 1985-1995. C’mon, that’s ten years of courtroom shenanigans, and oodles of amazing guest stars. I’m still working through those TVMs, but was thrilled when I saw that someone had included them in their Mason book. And spoiler free, no less, so I could sit down and read about a TVM without worrying about it taking away from what I had not seen yet. This awesome tome is titled The Case of the Alliterative Attorney: A Guide to the Perry Mason TV Series and TV Movies. When I recently acquired my copy, I couldn’t wait to dive in. But then, like any good Perry Mason mystery, there was a twist – I could barely turn myself away from the section about the original series, even though it was originally of secondary interest to me.
OK, not the most suspenseful twist, but work with me.
Perry Mason and Hamilton Burger working with me.
That’s just a long way of saying The Case of the Alliterative Attorney is an immensely enjoyable, page-turning read. The amount of research that co-authors Bill Sullivan and Ed Robertson put into this book is head spinning! There is not only lots and lots of fantastic trivia, but there’s quotes from those who were there to help make the series and films a success, including the incomparable Barbara Hale, and actress turned producer Gail Patrick (an intriguing woman who deserves her own book!), as well as a fairly in-depth look at how the show was put together, while also working as a tribute to the profound friendship Hale and Burr enjoyed until his passing in 1993.
These are my people.
And, for the record, this book is huge! At well over 600 pages, the authors incorporate as much as they can into each episode synopsis, spotlighting guest stars, important dialog quotes, and pieces of interviews with some of the people who worked on that episode. And, as mentioned earlier, all spoiler free.
Monte Markham > Not a terribly great idea for a series
Also, working like a good commercial break, there are sections titled Exhibits located throughout the book, highlighting interesting aspects or themes from the show. For instance, there is a list of episodes featuring jury trials, as well as a compilation of episodes where the court meets in a non-traditional location.
In short, you are bound to be a Mason expert by the time you finish the book. Despite the fact that it’s throwing loads of info in the reader’s direction, Sullivan and Robertson's style is casual, energetic and breezy. The authors really go the extra mile too, and Mason gets his full small screen due, so expect a section on The New Perry Mason Mysteries too! Go Monte!
Hal Holbrook, the badass.
As a newbie to the main content of the book, I can say that it has a little something for everyone, and may well bring in new fans (i.e. me).
My one minor nitpick is that the four Perry Mason Mysteries, filmed after Burr’s passing in 1993, deserve more attention. They can be looked at as a simple novelty to keep a brand going, but they are also entertaining in their own right and wonderfully preserve Mason and Burr while attempting to develop their own cozy mystery niche. Also, seeing a pushing-70 Hal Holbrook riding a Harley is just the best. True story.
The verdict is in: The Case of the Alliterative Attorney wins!
But as I said, that’s just a TV movie freak being a bit fussy, and perhaps that just comes from wanting the book (and the Mason telefilms) to go on forever. I highly recommend The Case of the Alliterative Attorney to anyone with even a passing interest in the show who is also drawn to getting a deeper behind the scenes perspective on a golden age of television.
Admit it, whenever someone throws the word "sin" into their TV movie title, you're expecting a sexy TV-PG drama with a soapy edge and a tinge of glamour. I mean, just look at Sins with Joan Collins as an example of how to take one word and make it the best thing ever. So, whenever one of those delightful titles drops into my lap, the excitement and joy overwhelms me. Maybe I even faint, who knows? But I do know that I probably should have looked up Family Sins before I gave it a spin, because it couldn't be farther from melodramatic debauchery, and dammit, there wasn't a shoulder pad in sight. That's not to say that Family Sins isn't fantastic, because it is, but it's also one of the darkest and saddest telefilms I've seen in a while.
Bryan (Thomas Wilson Brown) and Keith (Andrew Bednarski) are two young brothers living under the subtlety strong arm of their father (James Farentino in the most controlled performance of his I have seen so far). Keith is the twinkle in dear old Dad's eyes. He'll do anything to win his pop's approval, excelling at sports, and sometimes rubbing his elevated status in his older brother's face. Bryan is withdrawn and complicated. He hates sports, but his father doesn't care and often ostracizes him for daring to be a computer nerd instead of a jock. The mediator in this family is their somewhat sheepish mother (Jill Eikenberry), who thinks Bryan should do what he wants instead of what his father demands.
Signs of trouble start early. Bryan is a bruiser, dark and a loner. It's not that he doesn't have friends or do well in school, but while other kids are camping and playing catch, Bryan often sits in his room staring at the walls. He has a teacher (Brent Spiner) who sees the potential in Bryan, and to cheer him up, he gives him the class rabbit to take home as a pet. Knowing he can't have a pet, Bryan sneaks him into the house but his new BFF is soon uncovered. Dad tells him to get rid of the rabbit and Brian... kills it!
What do the parents do about Brian's evil deed? Absolutely nothing. Mother wants Dad to lay off, and Dad wants to sweep it under the rug anyway. So, the family goes on a summer outing, renting a cabin by the lake (if you've seen Cabin by the Lake, you can guess this can in no way end well). After a strange game of control, Bryan accidentally lets Keith drown. And that's just the beginning of the end of this family.
Met with mixed reviews, I'll admit that Family Sins is looking to pound its audience over the head with emotion. The real issues is that viewers may wonder to what end? There are no answers or happy endings to be had. Not that it needs anything like that, but Family Sins is a bit of endurance test in terms of depressing content, with little in the way of relief. But it's also so damn engrossing and well made, I found that I truly cared about Bryan, despite his obvious troubles, and I wanted to see something good come out of all of the darkness.
One critic likened Family Sins to Ordinary People, and they were quite right, even all the way up to the boating accident. And while I'm not sure this is Oscar level filmmaking (but it's quite confident), James Farentino has never been better or more effective. Gone are his signature wide eyed OTT deliveries (not that I don't adore that), and this is by far Farentino at his most human and relatable. He's not necessarily likable, but it's easy to see how he honestly felt he was doing right by his family. It's a complicated performance, and expertly handled.
Now that I'm traveling into the more dramatic 80s and 90s domestic-centered TVM output, Jill Eikenberry has been popping up on my radar. She is an excellent actress, always drawing me in immediately by exuding a likable presence. She's fantastic in this film, and is really the everyman, speaking for the audience, demanding answers where there are none. The child actors are also great in their roles, and Spiner shows off some early adorable in a part that I wish was more integral to the film. I recommend Family Sins to those who enjoy these kinds of family dramas. It's quiet and methodical, but it's also a downer so bring your kleenex, and maybe a nice glass of wine. Worth seeing just for Farantino.
