The Man with the Golden Hat
After
hanging his Stetson in a diner one night, McCloud is stymied by various
attempts to relieve him of it. His clues lead to a ballet company on the verge
of folding, and a philanthropic foundation with millions of dollars missing
from its account books.
How a Genius Pays His Debts
One
of television’s finest creations, leading from a superb incipit through a string of red herrings to a magnificent, rarefied
conclusion of pure genius.
Hank,
a pool-playing bank computer expert (Mills Watson) pursued, who secretes a slip
of paper in McCloud’s hat (or does he?). Attempts to purloin the hat. A prima
ballerina (Jaclyn Smith) of doubtful loyalties. A ballet master (Don Ameche)
denied a grant because of his Diaghilevian propensities for personal
expenditure. The ballet company’s attorney (Robert Webber) pulling various
strings. A representative of the foundation (Roger C. Carmel) in on the plot,
likewise a bank security guard (Rick Weaver), and a foundation security officer
(Philip Carey) tracking them all down, or is he?
The
plot and its Balanchine dichotomy are concealed and slowly broached with the
greatest skill. At the end you have a sort of Mozartean exposition of the
artist set up against the criteria of philanthropy.
Antonio
takes care to point up certain matters. The ballet scenes (featuring the San
Francisco Ballet under the direction of Christensen/Smuin, choreography by
Balanchine and Christensen) are filmed with an eight-point star diffraction
filter, and a four-point filter is used when McCloud takes the ballerina out
dancing for the first time at The Daffodil Club (where McCloud interviews
Hank’s muse Linda, a blonde hostess with a red Corvette). Later, on the
darkened stage of the ballet, McCloud strikes several matches to see by, and
Ben Colman demonstrates the range of his lighting.
|
Jaclyn Smith Margaret Hart |
Story by Glen A. Larson, Lou Shaw Directed by Lou Antonio |
40513, 1.12.75
(McCloud at Ben’s Diner.)
McCLOUD: I think I’m gonna give the bowl o’ chili a shot. I ain’t had a
good bowl o’ chili since I came to New York.
LITTLE
BEN: No kidding, you’re from out of town?
MCCLOUD: Yeah...
Taos, New Mexico.
LITTLE
BEN: (Serves chili.) You want crackers with that?
McCLOUD: Oh yeah,
can’t eat chili without crackers. (Receives them.) And how
about a little Tabasco sauce. (Receives it, holds up empty ketchup
bottle.) I think you’re a little dry here, ya got any ketchup? (Receives
it.) Salt ‘n pepper? (Little Ben points.) Sittin’
there right in front o’ me, if they’d been a snake it woulda
bit me. Oh, think you’ve got some chopped onions, some big Bermuda Reds? (Little Ben
rolls his eyes, goes to get onions. McCloud, finally ready to eat, tastes his
dinner.) Hey, that’s purt near chili.
CHIEF CLIFFORD: Write this up as one more nut who
died by his own cracker.
McCLOUD: Well if there’s no reason, he’s got to be insane!
SGT.
BROADHURST: Ever try to find an empty bed in Bellevue?
CHIEF CLIFFORD: Don’t start agreeing with me, you’ll
have me thinking I must be wrong.
CHIEF CLIFFORD: Well, congratulations, McCloud.
You’re now known in journalistic circles as “the man with the golden hat.”
CHIEF CLIFFORD: From now on, until this case is
solved, I want your head naked.
McCLOUD: You’re shinnyin’ up the wrong
tree.
McCLOUD: You know, this ballet company is sinkin’
faster than a hog in a bog...
McCLOUD: Hey, look Joe, I promise you I didn’t get in no trouble.
SGT.
BROADHURST: No, but your hat did.
McCLOUD: How’s your head?
MARGARET:
(Hungover.) It’s a timpani section.
McCLOUD: I’ll be dipped—a Grand Central Station claim check.
SGT. BROADHURST: Wait till the press hears about
this, three men dead over a bunch of comic books.
(McCloud has the precinct attempting to “decode” the comic
books and coloring books found in the suitcase thought to contain the money.)
CHIEF CLIFFORD: Now listen to me, all of you! Put down those McCloud
encyclopedias and get back to work, or I’ll show you funny! I’ll show you the
code to early retirement!
(McCloud takes the comic books to a top cryptologist at the
Office of Scientific Intelligence.)
McCLOUD: Three men have been killed trying to get this suitcase. As far
as I’m concerned that’s top priority!
GARVEY:
(Aside, to a military aide taking notes.) T.P.
GARVEY: Now don’t you blame technology for your failure to bring
me something to decode!
McCLOUD: You got a choice: life or death.
MARGARET: What’d you have in mind?
McCLOUD: Well, I
know a little place that serves up chili. It’s not the greatest, but, ya know,
ya doctor it up with a little Tabasco sauce, Bermuda Reds—it passes.