Showdown at Times Square
McCloud
The gag material is opulent and
fairly extensive. McCloud makes his entrance carrying a kitten that he’s
just rescued from a tree. At Chief Clifford’s weekly bull session, in New
York’s fiscal crisis, Sgt. Broadhurst presents a scheme for installing a
gym next to the locker room. McCloud, bored, looks out the window and begins
notating the smoke signals he sees coming from the Endicott
Building—they’re evidently in Apache (White Mountain), but as he
reads back his notes out loud at Chief Clifford’s behest, he concludes
they “don’t make much sense.”
Chief Stillwater is seated
cross-legged on the roof, wearing a strangely familiar feather head-dress and
holding a tomahawk which McCloud says is “about as dangerous as a
baby’s first goo” (it develops that this Chief is merely seeking
publicity so as to locate his missing grandson, and purchased the articles
“from a costume shop on 42nd Street,” he says, “they
guaranteed them to be genu-wine”).
The gang robs the safe deposit
boxes at the Antoine Hotel, and afterward is eliminated piecemeal by mischance.
Donald is accidentally stabbed in a fight with Johnny Stillwater (the
Chief’s grandson, whose father was an employee at the hotel in Phoenix
robbed by the gang before the episode begins). At a Las Vegas casino, B.G. gets
in the line of fire and is shot by Linus’s hit man when McCloud ducks.
Cookie is tricked into revealing his beloved suitcase full of money, which
bursts open on a New Orleans street during Mardi Gras, and he dies when a float
runs him over.
Donald’s mistress, Holly
Dayton, a failed actress and musician (a brilliant performance by Sharon
Farrell), auditions at a dive (singing “I Remember April” at the
piano) and is hired. “Most of the people start drifting
in about ten,” Fields tells her, “come in about eight,
we’ll have a little dinner in back first, get acquainted.” Her face
is a studied mask of recognition.
On the other side there is unusual
drama in the confrontation with Chief Clifford, which ultimately brings McCloud
to turn in his badge and pistol. The gang kills Johnny Stillwater, his
grandfather resolves to die (“my purpose is over”) and is taken to
a hospital, where Dr. Brand is mystified.
Satlof shows his mettle in fine
aerial shots which characterize the piece, and a particularly fine view of
Central Park from several stories up, panning-and-tilting up to the Plaza Hotel
(standing in for the Antoine). The cast is remarkable for its assurance in
difficult roles such as Henry Gibson’s Cookie, of poor background but
obsessively frugal (“Hey Cookie! Let me see one of your fives,”
they used to say, “I’d like to see what Lincoln looked like when he
was a boy!”), and Don Meredith’s Linus, a vicious killer
who’s also a black belt. He takes on McCloud in the finale, and gets
rocked and socked like a robot.
McCloud tells Holly that he bought
a “brand spanking new” trombone as a young man, and thought he
could “play the fool out of it.” His lesson was perseverance.
“Made it in my senior year.”
McCloud’s time off the force
(a technicality, Chief Clifford tries to counter) entitles him to share the
reward with Holly, but they have something else in mind, as Holly says:
“Are you a sucker for Indian Chiefs and trombone players, too?”
Night of the Shark
McCloud
McCloud
feels at one point he’s made himself unintelligible to his Australian
hosts and is about to explain when Inspector Hale stops him by saying,
“That’s all right, we’re into Roy Rogers.”
Sydney’s
Opera House is the site of a major scene, and the climax takes place at the
Australia Day Parade. The theme is Australia itself, at about the time it began
to emerge onto the world scene.
The
simple mechanism of the plot is designed so as to throw a shaft of poetic light
onto this city of transportation.
The
opening scene is peculiarly grisly, as a confab of gangsters (under
surveillance from a police raft) ends in a murder by poison and sharks.
Sydney’s
Police Superintendent Caldwell’s Anti-Organised Crime Task Force is
establishing a New York-Sydney mob connection when the superintendent is shot
at JFK Airport, and an American police commissioner is killed. McCloud merely
happens to be there on one of his routine boring assignments.
The
McCloud unit does very well in Australia, repeating its earlier success
in Mexico City with “Lady on the Run”.
We
know, on the authority of Sgt. Broadhurst in that episode, for example, that
McCloud doesn’t drink. Yet here, exceptionally, and under the imprimatur of
the show’s creator, McCloud not only accepts an Australian beer, he gets
drunk, buys drinks for the whole pub, and has to be carried out. Even in Hawaii
(“A Cowboy in Paradise”), McCloud drinks fruit juice.
He
knows Alf Donnelly as Albert Donahue, a New Mexico land developer who himself
says, “Half of Albuquerque lost money on my deal.” When
Donahue’s wife was discovered dead, homicide was suspected and a warrant
was issued.
Nevertheless,
the mob has spent ten years and millions of dollars establishing him on the
Sydney Police Board in advance of expansion plans (“It’s
official, Eric,” says Officer McGee to her surveillance partner,
“we’ve been invaded,” though neither of them can see from
their vantage point who is the odd man out at the confab). If his delicate past
were known, the operation would be spoiled. (Inspector Hale, too, is bought or
sold.)
So
Donnelly attempts to kill McCloud, and at the Sydney Opera House in broad
daylight. McCloud is on his way to the airport and desperate measures are called
for. Satlof’s direction shows pretty clearly, I think, Utzon’s
design in its original state, and the compromises forced upon it later, in some
degree. It’s a very close view, though not exhaustive, beginning with a
shot inside the restaurant before the wide picture window looking out on Sydney
Harbour and the Bridge. McCloud clambers over a balcony and down an exterior
wall, there’s a bit of a chase. The word “concourse” is used
in the script to link Saarinen’s JFK and Utzon’s Opera House,
poetically.
McCloud
cracks the case in time to intercept the Australia Day Parade, whose Grand
Marshal is Donnelly on horseback with his wife (“you’re the boy who
leads the parade” is the explanation for not killing him when his bosses
find out he’s been gunning for McCloud). McCloud takes Mrs.
Donnelly’s horse, and the chase is on right through downtown Sydney
across the Harbour Bridge and onto a football (soccer) field, where Sydney are
leading Melbourne 1-0. The announcer describes events: “Now one of them’s
pulled a pistol, and he’s shooting at the other.” A footballer
knocks the gun from Donnelly’s hand with a well-placed throw or kick, and
McCloud wraps the culprit in the goal net. He tricks Chief Clifford into buying
a round for everybody at the pub.
Satlof
has some action here that’s interesting. He tracks back at a low angle
with a wrong lens on McCloud and Inspector Hale walking down a corridor, and
gets a unique effect. On the Bridge’s pedestrian walkway, he lines up a
straight shot to good effect, then cuts to a
helicopter side shot. Stu Phillips is again inspired during the chase to his
best work.
The
script by Glen A. Larson is of course authoritative. There is some brilliant
use of symmetry to set up the gag. Mrs. Donnelly spills the beans that Supt.
Caldwell is not dead but incognito at Sydney Hospital. There, Donnelly almost
bumps into McCloud, but slipping away is stopped by Officer McGee
(“Remember me from the Academy?”), who introduces him to the
visiting American marshal.
Valleyview
Quincy M.E.
The
securely understated structure has a euthanizer at Valleyview Sanitarium put a
grandfather out of future misery, a young girl out of her “pain and
nightmares”, a nurse out of present witness and a very nearly a father
out of despair over losing his family in a car crash.
The
method is curare, administered among needle marks or beneath one of the
nurse’s fingernails, which are then painted. This is the clue that solves
an otherwise baffling case for the coroner’s office.
The
motive is mercy, particularly in the last instance, a desire to induce
“peace of mind”.
Holding
Pattern
Quincy M.E.
Terrorists
hold an airliner on the tarmac at LAX. The Federal agent in charge plans a
gung-ho raid, Quincy observes symptoms of sickness among those on board, a lab
analysis reveals a form of plague.
Between
murder and mayhem, he finds the right course, delaying the assault and averting
a last-minute demolition of the plane.
His
reasoning outbursts catch a layover on Midway with a north-south connection,
the dictator’s intransigence, the terrorist leader’s illness and
the female second-in-command’s love, in time to assess the situation on
the spot and provide alleviation.
Satlof
has his POV on a mobile passenger ramp approaching the open cabin door, à la
2001: A Space Odyssey.
The Case of the Lost Love
Perry Mason
This writer’s
father, an avid and discerning television watcher, once expressed his disdain
for Perry Mason by saying, “he pretends to knowledge he doesn’t
have.” Who knew a quarter-century later he’d show us all his cards
on the table like this? It’s a masterpiece from top to bottom, take it
all around. There’s a flashback to the scene of the crime that seems
uncharacteristic, but it’s thematic.
The closest thing
to it is an episode of the original Star
Trek series that has Capt. Kirk exchanging bodies with an ambitious female
officer, and for once you can see an improvement in American television writing
over the years, even with so fine an example.
This fulfills the
promise of The Case of the Twice-Told
Twist, the last of the original Perry Mason episodes and the only one
filmed in color.