Our Man in Paris (Man from Taos II)

In Paris, McCloud and a stewardess try to locate a mysterious arms smuggler with ties to an American mogul and a New York gubernatorial candidate.

F is for Fake

Part II unveils the mystery. The man in the hotel room is a distinguished former Assistant District Attorney, civic booster and lawyer (“Criminal?” “Corporate.”) named Aldon F. Flanders, about to marry a certain Miss Talbot, and slated to run for Governor.

He’s been having a little trouble with his female courier, who takes a million dollars at a pop to M. Rissient in Paris, for the purpose of smuggling arms to the East or the Near East. Mr. Talbot is the financier.

McCloud shows his badge to a French tobacconist, but can’t make himself understood (“c’est un autre service,” says the man, waving his index finger, “pas parisien”). However, he has deputized (sort of) a French stewardess, who helps him with the language barrier, as they try to trace the man whose name sounds like Reason or Recent.

There’s a greatly skilled use of the Universal back lot as Paris, lots of sunlight, close-ups zooming out, breezes, sound effects, etc., added to the second unit photography.

As McCloud says in Part I, “Who says you can’t make new friends in New York?”


Carl Betz Aldon F. Flanders
Susan Strasberg
Anne Verdige
John van Dreelen
Alfred Ryder
Marcel Hillaire
Inspector Prideaux
Barbara Davis
Boots Walker
Maurice Marsac
Lilyan Chauvin
Guy De Vestel
Rico Cattani
Alex Rodine
Randolph Mantooth

Written by Matthew Howard

Directed by Russ Mayberry


183B, 10.21.70

McCLOUD: (To Mason.) There’s no place you can shake loose from me. I’ll run ya down.

McCLOUD: (Showing his credentials to a gendarme.) Permission spéciale to kind o’ gawk around ‘n get lost.

INSPECTOR PRIDEAUX: (On telephone to Bureau HQ.) Urgent. Priorité absolue. Surveillance de téléphone.
SGT. BROADHURST: And tell them to get Polk back from the hospital.

McCLOUD: There’s a lot of folks who don’t see the value of a thing till they hear the price.

BOOTS: Nobody means to get nobody killed.

(On Long Island.)
FLANDERS: Have any trouble finding the place?
McCLOUD: No, it’s real country out here.

FLANDERS: You have an analytical mind.
McCLOUD: Just horse sense.

(The Chief’s ultimatum.)
McCLOUD: Well, just about sunup.
CHIEF CLIFFORD: OK, OK, we’ll make an exception.