Shaggy! Get me a pizza!

Jack: Rich old Uncle Cyrus is scared when a spectre of Death pays him a visit, so he throws chemicals in the face of the wraith, not knowing it is really his nephew Gerald in a spooky costume. Gerald is plotting with Cyrus's nurse, Zena, to drive the old man mad so Gerald can inherit his wealth. The chemical splash puts Gerald at risk of going blind, but things get worse for the schemer when Zena tells him that the old man dropped dead a day before Gerald would have been eligible to inherit. Gerald goes mad and is carted off to a place that is "Reserved for Madmen Only." Meanwhile, Zena and Cyrus watch from an upstairs window. It seems Cyrus was fine and the two plotted successfully to get rid of Gerald. Cyrus is so grateful to his leggy nurse that he plans to make her his sole heir. The scary Scooby-Doo music started playing in my head on page one of this Kashdan special--the only plus is the short-skirted nurse Zena.

John Calnan's "special" use of perspective

Jack: Scott and Madden are searching for the Lost Desert Gold Mine, the entrance to which is marked by a giant ant hill. They are menaced by a strangely costumed man who calls himself King Pharaoh. They fall down a mine shaft and battle a giant anteater, then accidentally discover a vein of gold while trying to avoid becoming "Captives of the Ant Kingdom!" Back above ground, King Pharaoh attacks them with a swarm of ants but they turn the tables by throwing candy at him. It really doesn't get much worse than this. "Ant Kingdom" will be in the running for worst of 1974.

Peter: I find it extreeeeemely hard to believe this wasn't a 1950s reprint. What editor of a "spooky" funny book would okay such a dim-witted fantasy? Ah, Murray Boltinoff, that's who. Never mind. This story is totally loony. Who's the Ant Man? Is he a guy dressed up as an ant? A mutant? Just a crook who goes to astounding measures and then pins his hopes on two dorky adventurers?

We are not really clear on why King Pharaoh dresses like that.

Zee French, zey are a funny race

Jack: Bret and Harriet Hodge are vacationing in France when a violent storm forces them to seek refuge in a hotel. Most everyone there speaks French, but the language of death is universal and soon the happy couple is accused of murder, tried and sentenced to death. They escape and soon realize that it was no hotel but rather a madhouse, where they underwent "Trial By Terror!" At only five pages, this doesn't have much time to work up a head of steam, but with a little more care it might have been interesting.

by Jack Seabrook

"Man From the South," first broadcast on CBS on Sunday March 13, 1960, is about as close to perfection as the half-hour episodes on the Hitchcock show ever got. Along with "The Jar," it is one of the best viewing experiences the series has to offer.

The story begins with an establishing shot of the Las Vegas strip as it looked in November 1958, when the program was filmed. The scene then shifts inside to a casino hotel bar, where an attractive young woman, played by Neile Adams, orders a brandy. Down to her last few coins, she appears dejected until a handsome young man, played by Adams's then-husband Steve McQueen, introduces himself. It is early morning, around 8 o'clock, and the fact that she is drinking so early suggests a long and unsuccessful night of gambling.

Carlos interrupts the couple's banter

The young couple moves to a table and sits together; the man, too, is broke and has only $1.86 left. From the start, McQueen plays his character as cool and charming: he intrigues the woman with witty remarks and surreptitiously smells her hair from behind as he pushes her chair in like a gentleman. We know he is a gambler because he rolls sugar cubes like dice across the table. The woman joins willingly in the casual banter, telling him that she is from Moscow--"Moscow, Idaho, that is." He gives her a cigarette and lights it; at this point, the camera pulls back from a close-up of her face and a third character enters the frame. An older man, played by Peter Lorre, invites himself to join them at their table and orders more coffee. We will later learn that his name is Carlos but, for most of the episode, all of the characters remain nameless.

The young couple are visibly annoyed at having their flirtation interrupted, but Carlos is nonplussed, "accidentally" breaking his cigarette and asking the young man to light another. The young man claims that his lighter never fails to light, which leads Carlos to propose a bet on that very topic. A middle-aged man in a hat and string tie steps up and makes the trio a quartet and, though the young man suggests betting a quarter that the lighter will successfully flame on thrice in a row, Carlos has a more risky proposition in mind. Inviting everyone up to his rooms, he proposes a more sinister bet: if the young man can light his lighter ten times in a row he will win a Cadillac convertible that is parked outside. If the lighter fails to light a single time, however, Carlos will chop off the little finger on the young man's left hand. The young woman is sensible and stands to leave, but the young man considers the bet before saying no. Carlos goads him into accepting the bet, however, and the third man agrees to act as referee.

Steve McQueen and his lighter

Up in Carlos's suite, the strange gambler tidies up some women's evening wear and the young woman asks if they belong to "Dracula's daughter . . . Have her come in off the drainpipe--she might catch cold!" The creators of "Man From the South" play with a couple of things in this brief exchange. First of all, the presence of the clothes suggests that a woman has spent the night in the room with Carlos and has only recently left, leaving him alone and at loose ends. Second, the comment about "Dracula's daughter" plays off the viewer's familiarity with Peter Lorre and his frequent association with horror movies in the 1930s and 1940s.

The young man remains focused on his cigarette lighter, playing with it and flicking it on and off, thinking about what he has agreed to do. Carlos asks a bellboy to procure nails, a hammer, a length of cord and a chopping knife. These items are used to tie the young man's left hand to the hotel room desk, his fingers clenched in a fist except for the little finger, which sticks out enticingly. The referee paces the room, standing in for the viewer, watching the events unfold and tossing back drinks to help calm his nerves. The young woman drinks as well, afraid for the young man she met only a short while before.

The game is on!

The game begins as Carlos stands next to the desk, chopper in hand, waiting for the lighter to fail. The referee calls out each number and the young man lights the lighter. Peter Lorre is brilliant here, holding the chopper up in anticipation and letting it droop a little with a look of disappointment on his face each time the lighter flames on successfully. There is a great use of montage from director Norman Lloyd and editor Edward Williams in this scene, as the camera cuts back and forth in alternating close-ups and medium shots, from the hand lighting the lighter, to Carlos holding the chopper, to the sweaty faces of the participants and the observers.

The tension mounts with each successful flame, yet Carlos looks strangely bored, like a gambler who cannot control his urge to keep playing but who no longer enjoys the game. After the seventh light, a woman's voice suddenly breaks the tension in the room by uttering for the first time in the entire episode a character's name: "Carlos!" By keeping the characters anonymous up to this point, writer William Fay (who adapted Roald Dahl's story for television) has allowed the events to progress as if in a dream, where archetypes act out a bizarre scene. With the arrival of Carlos's wife, we suddenly see the characters as real people and learn about a tragic past that two of them share.

Carlos smiles at the memory of 47 fingers

The wife takes the chopper from Carlos's hand and asks why he would "do this thing again." He whines like a petulant child and sits dejectedly on the couch, telling her "I just wanted to make a little bet." She apologizes for her husband and says she knew she should not leave him alone. "He is a menace, of course," she remarks, and explains that in the islands, where they used to live, he took 47 fingers from different people and lost 11 cars. Lorre, once again, is brilliant, his face lighting up with a smile at the memory of the 47 fingers he won and then returning to a look of sadness at the recollection of the 11 cars he lost. According to his wife, they were forced to move "up here" (hence the show's title, "Man From the South") when he was threatened with being put away.

Carlos's wife speaks the moral of the story: "How foolish and reckless young people can be, just trying to prove they are brave." This gets to the heart of the matter: why did the young man accept the bet? In his initial banter with the young woman, he expressed confidence at his own ability to win money at the casino that night. He had just met her when Carlos proposed the bet. The only time the young man gives a reason for agreeing to participate, he simply says : "I like convertibles," an ironic comment in light of Steve McQueen's later propensity for racing motorcycles and automobiles. One suspects that Carlos's wife possesses the wisdom of her years and sees the real reason behind the young man's behavior--it was a reckless decision calculated to impress the young woman.

Carlos's wife goes on to explain that her husband had nothing left with which to bet. The car is hers and he knows it. As she talks, we see the young man attempt to light another cigarette for the young woman--and the lighter fails to light. She looks at him in horror, realizing what this means, but he continues to display an air of calm acceptance of events. This brief shot tells the viewer that a horrible scene would likely have ensued had not Carlos's wife appeared just when she did. The referee tells her that he "just came along for the ride"; like the viewer, he could have stopped watching but was willing to let the horror unfold just for the thrill of seeing it happen. Carlos's wife says that she won everything from him and the show ends on a shot that is shocking and brutal in its implications as she reaches for the car keys with her gloved left hand, a hand that has only a thumb and little finger.

"Man From the South" is perfection in script, direction and acting, but leaves two questions unanswered. One: whose negligee does Carlos tidy up when the group first arrives in his suite? Did he have a female guest overnight? His wife states that she flew to Los Angeles and just returned, so she was not there. Was Carlos a naughty boy in regard to more than his bizarre bet? Then again, is the woman who arrives at the end really his wife? This is never expressly stated, just assumed. Two: if Carlos likes to take the little finger of those he bets against, why is the woman missing her middle three fingers and not her little finger? I suspect that the contrast of having just a thumb and little finger was too great for the filmmakers to resist.

"Man From the South" was first published in this issue of Colliers as "Collector's Item"

"Man From the South" was based on a story that Roald Dahl had been telling to friends as early as 1944 (in his biography of the author, Jeremy Treglown refers to the woman with Carlos as a "minder," further confusing the issue of whether she was intended to be his wife in the TV adaptation). Dahl put the story on paper in May 1948 and submitted it to BBC Radio as "The Menace." It was published in the U.S. in the September 4, 1948 issue of Collier's as "Collector's Item," but BBC Radio's Third Programme listings show that the story was read on air by Robert Rietty under the original title "The Menace" on November 22, 1948, and again on November 25, 1948.

The story was first dramatized for radio as part of a series called Radio City Playhouse. Though no recording exists, the October 16, 1949 half-hour episode of this series was called "Duet," and featured a dramatization of Ray Bradbury's story "The Lake" followed by another of Dahl's story, "Collector's Item," adapted by June Thomson.

Dahl's short story was retitled "Man From the South" and collected in his second book of short stories, Someone Like You, which was published in late 1953. The story shares the same basic plot as the TV adaptation, but there are differences. It takes place in Jamaica, not Las Vegas, and the characters are not all gamblers at a casino. In fact, the narrator of the story is the man who ends up refereeing the bet. The young man is an American sailor and the young woman is an English girl whom he meets in a pool. Other than that the story is the same. In adapting it for Alfred Hitchcock Presents, William Fay used the Las Vegas setting to establish the characters as a group of gamblers of varying ages and levels of success. The short story is clever and well plotted but the way it is brought to life in the TV adaptation makes all the difference in turning a memorable story into a classic half hour.

Neile Adams

"Man From the South" was so well-remembered after its 1959 premiere on television that, when Alfred Hitchcock Presents was revived in 1985, this story was remade as one of the four episodes that comprised the two-hour TV movie pilot. The teleplay was by Steve DeJarnatt, who also directed the show, and he based it on Fay's 1958 teleplay. John Huston plays Carlos and Melanie Griffith plays the young woman. Her mother, Tippi Hedren, who had her own history with Hitchcock, plays a small role as a waitress, and Kim Novak, who starred in Vertigo, plays Carlos's wife.

The story was also adapted as the first episode of Roald Dahl's Tales of the Unexpected in 1979, this time with Jose Ferrer as Carlos and Michael Ontkean (Sheriff Harry Truman on Twin Peaks) as the young man. Kevin Goldstein-Jackson adapted the story for this show and it was filmed in Jamaica, returning the setting to that of the original story.

Spoilsport!

The best cast and crew, however, belong to the 1959 version. William Fay (1918-1968?), who wrote the teleplay, wrote 16 episodes of the Hitchcock series, including "Madame Mystery" and "Isabel." He was also a writer of short stories and he had been editor of the Popular Publications magazine line starting in 1935. He began writing for TV in 1954.

Norman Lloyd (1914- ) directed the show. His connection with Hitchcock is well-known, starting in 1942 with his famous role in Saboteur and continuing through his close association with the Hitchcock TV series, for which he was an actor, director and producer. He directed 22 episodes of the series over ten years, including "The Jar," so he was responsible for perhaps the best half-hour and the best hour. The last episode he directed prior to "Man From the South" was "Special Delivery." He is now 100 years old and still active.

Ready to chop!

The young man was played by Steve McQueen (1930-1980), one of the most popular movie stars of the 1960s and 1970s. Married to his co-star Neile Adams from 1956 to 1972, he began acting in 1952 and shot to fame as the star of the TV series, Wanted: Dead or Alive, which premiered in September 1958, two months before "Man From the South" was filmed. He also appeared in "Human Interest Story" on Alfred Hitchcock Presents. He made no more TV appearances after Wanted: Dead or Alive ended in 1961 and his film career took off, continuing until his untimely death.

Neile Adams (1932- ) was born Ruby Neilam Salvador Adams in the Philippines to a Spanish/German mother and a Spanish/Asian father. She made movie and TV appearances from the 1950s to the early 1990s and was on three episodes of the Hitchcock series, including Henry Slesar's "One Grave Too Many."

Katherine Squire

Appearing as Carlos is Peter Lorre (1904-1964), who was born Laszlo Loewenstein in Austria-Hungary. He began acting on stage in Vienna, then moved to Germany where he became famous, starring in Fritz Lang's classic M in 1933 before fleeing the Nazis to France and then England. He was in Hitchcock's 1934 version of The Man Who Knew Too Much as well as the director's Secret Agent (1936). He came to Hollywood and appeared in many classic films. He started doing TV work in 1952 and appeared in two episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents. As his performance in "Man From the South" demonstrates, he was a great and underrated actor.

Tyler McVey

Carlos's wife (or minder?) is played by Katherine Squire (1903-1995), an actress who appeared in many TV shows starting in 1949. She was on the Hitchcock series five times, including Henry Slesar's "Pen Pal," and she was on episodes of The Twilight Zone and Thriller.

The referee of the bet is played by Tyler McVey (1912-2003), a busy character actor who was on TV and in movies from the early 1950s to the mid-1980s. He appeared on the Hitchcock show eight times and was in "Human Interest Story" with Steve McQueen.

Read the original magazine publication of "Collector's Item"here. The 1959 version of the TV show is available on DVD here. The 1979 version may be viewed for free online here; the 1985 version is here.

Sources:
Dahl, Roald. "Man From the South." 1948. Roald Dahl Collected Stories. Ed. Jeremy 
Treglown. New York: Everyman's Library, 2006. 181-91. Print.
Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 04 Apr. 2015.

Joe Kubert

Our Army at War 133

"Yesterday's Hero!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert

"The 'Candy' Spad!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jerry Grandenetti

Jack: A Medal of Honor winner named Corporal David is the newest addition to Easy Co., joining his kid brother, whom Sgt. Rock calls Bright Eyes. Corp. David won his medal by holding off a breakthrough of Panzer tanks by himself with just a bazooka after the rest of his company had been wiped out. The experience left him shell-shocked, though, and he gives the cold shoulder to his new comrades-in-arms, including his brother. Rock has to save him when Easy encounters shelling on a road.

Kubert uses black and white to show a soldier apart from the rest

Rock begins to suspect that something is wrong with Corp. David, a suspicion that is borne out when Corp. David tells Rock that he doesn't have what it takes anymore and is "Yesterday's Hero!" Rock is concerned that his men will be discouraged by the depressing behavior of the medal winner. Rock and his men fight off Nazi planes and David tells Rock that the sergeant can't understand what he's feeling because Rock is like a fighting machine. Easy Co. has to face oncoming tanks that seem to be traveling across quicksand and the sergeant is injured in the fight. When Rock loses his cool, Corp. David finally sees that his commanding officer is human, too. David grabs a bazooka and single handedly blasts away at the tanks, saving Easy Co. and losing his life in the process. As he dies, he tells his brother to keep the medal of honor in the family.

Kanigher's usual sure hand is a bit shaky in this Sgt. Rock episode. Though Kubert uses some neat techniques to tell us that Corp. David is suffering from shell-shock, the story drags and has trouble finding its footing. The panel where Rock has to freak out in order to get David going again does not ring true.

Peter: I found the same problems you did, Jack, but I still think it's a strong story, strong enough to probably be in my Top Ten of '63 (the quicksand sequence alone is worth the dime). There's a great line Rock uses about halfway through the story: "From fightin' together--awake or asleep--Easy was tied to me by nerve ends..." That summarizes, for me, the strengths of the Easy Co. stories. Corp. David describes Rock, on more than ten occasions, as "a well-oiled machine" throughout the story,  The same could be said for the Company. Is the intention, in those panels where Corp. David is the color of stone, to imply Corp. David had become hard and soulless as a result of his trauma? Yep, the story is a bit too long (a problem I found with the Showcase story below as well) but, aside from that and David's constant "well-oiled" drone, this is one solid read.

Lt. Shaw lights up the sky

Jack: Lt. Shaw volunteers to fly biplanes in WWI but when he's found to be underaged, he is grounded. He sees his idol, Captain Clark, shot down by the Iron Baron, but all he can do is fly a weak, gunless plane that he calls "The 'Candy' Spad" around on errands. When he is sent off with a planeload of fireworks to deliver for a July Fourth celebration, he manages to happen upon an air attack and use the fireworks to help the real pilots defeat the enemy. A weak entry with better than usual art by Jerry G., this WWI tale caps a disappointing issue of a usually reliable comic.

Peter: What a dopey story. Fighter planes that can't handle Roman candles and sparklers? What a fighting fleet the Germans had in WWI! Well, I'll give it one star for cracking me up with the immortal line: "The Iron Baron's guns--are licking my candy spad!" Where the heck was Wertham when this comic hit the stands?

Jerry Grandenetti

Our Fighting Forces 78

"The Last Medal!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Jerry Grandenetti

"The 14-Day Target!"
Story by Bob Haney
Art by Ross Andru & Mike Esposito

Jack: Why is Sarge being awarded "The Last Medal!" on the island, and why did the recommendation come from the Imperial Practical Joker, Col. Hakawa? Gunner tells the tale. He, Sarge and Pooch were out on patrol when they were ambushed by a tank driven by Col. Hakawa. Sarge is thought dead but Gunner is tied to the front of the tank to deter attacks by U.S. forces. The scheme works flawlessly until Sarge comes to the rescue, disguised as a Japanese soldier. Hakawa is tricked and our heroes escape, leading Hakawa to send a message recommending Sarge for a medal.

"The Last Medal!"

When the American marines are gathered for the medal ceremony, Hakawa's planes attack! To get their revenge, Gunner and Sarge take Pooch and head across the island, where they surprise Hakawa in the middle of his own medal ceremony. The marines commandeer his tank and start shooting, escaping with the tank and Hakawa's medal, which is finally pinned on Sarge. This series keeps chugging on, not terrible but not very good either. It's almost like Dave Berg's "The Lighter Side of . . . WWII."

Peter: Oh, I say it's terrible, Jack, mucho terribles! I can't find one positive aspect to this bilge. Why would the ultra-important Colonel Hakawa be flying solo in a tank? The hype on the splash informs me that "'The Last Medal' will twist (my) heart into knots!" Say what? Hard to believe we've read 34 Gunner and Sarge installments and we haven't hoisted the white flag yet. Oh and, as if it needed to be repeated, Grandenetti is simply awful here, muddy as hell, as if he decided he didn't need his pencils anymore and went straight to the inkwell.

"The 14-Day Target!"

Jack: Phil Dwyer joins a new squadron flying WWI spads against the Germans and their ace, Von Klugg. He hears that no pilot has ever survived more than 14 days, so he starts checking off days on a calendar to see if he'll make it. He goes up against Von Klugg one day and realizes it's day 15--he has made it! After shooting down the ace, he returns to base and learns that the C.O. tricked him by crossing off the last day in advance. The story is strictly by the numbers, but Andru and Esposito dial their usual art up a notch with some very nice plane work.

Peter: I agree on the art, Jack. This is one of the better Andru/Espositos we've seen. The script is another matter. Aside from the usual "hammer that catch phrase home" dilemma we get a C.O. who bolsters his new man's courage just before his shift by telling him all the pilots in the squadron are fated to die before their fourteenth day. That's bound to work wonders with confidence, isn't it? I want to see the sequel, "The 15th-Day Target" where Phil is shot down the very next day (you know, now that he's convinced himself he's immortal) and the C.O. tells Phil's replacement about the squadron's 15-day jinx!

Jack: Though the Grand Comics Database credited this cover to Joe Kubert, I'll bet my imaginary Bronze Star that it's by Grandenetti. There's no way those faces are Kubert's work, and the mask-like shading around the eyes is classic Grandenetti. The folks at the GCD changed it after a suggestion from bare*bones.

Ross Andru & Mike Esposito

All American Men of War 98

"The Time-Bomb Ace!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Irv Novick

"The Jet and the Pilot"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Ross Andru & Mike Esposito

"Dogfight Dodger!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Ross Andru & Mike Esposito

Peter: After the death of an innocent little girl (bless her dead little flower-holding hand), ace Johnny Cloud vows that his men, now nicknamed "Lily Flight," will destroy the Nazi terror rocket base responsible for the youngster's death. The men find and attack the base but Johnny is shot down and taken prisoner by a squad of stinking Nazi swine. Strangely, the Germans release Cloud, give him back his jet and report his whereabouts to the rest of the Lily men. To his utter horror, Johnny discovers why the Ratzis were so accommodating: they've booby-trapped Johnny's plane to explode when he rejoins his men. Some fancy aerobatics and some good dumb luck (the only way to explain Johnny commandeering an enemy's parachute while falling to earth) save the day and Johnny Cloud can lift his head to heaven and salute the fallen little angel. One of the better Johnny Cloud adventures from start to finish, "The Time-Bomb Ace" manages to ratchet up the excitement after a somber opening. Two sequences stood out for me as well as for an impressionable young George Lucas (Okay, so I'm speculating...): the Lily Flight descent between smokestacks to take out the Deathstar rockets is an amazing scene and Indy's Johnny's death-defying climb onto the tail of his crippled fighter is the stuff of nonsense but gorgeous to look at anyway. Bravo, Mr. Kanigher!

"The Time-Bomb Ace"!

Jack: I was worried when the story opened with the death of a cockney flower girl, but once Johnny and his squadron took to the air, this story took off! The run in between the smokestacks was neat, but the final sequence with the time bomb was gripping! I know Johnny's escape was far-fetched but I still enjoyed it.

Peter: A pilot doubts his new jet. A jet doubts its new pilot. With time and understanding, "The Jet and The Pilot" come to love each other and blast stinkin' commies from the sky. Thinking jets. Groan.
Jack: Little more than a vignette at only four pages, this story suffers from the parallel structure and the thinking jet.

That's our nausea

For one thing, the eyes are too small!

Peter: Poor Ed has a problem: the guys in his squadron have labeled him a "Dogfight Dodger" because every time he goes out on a radio call something happens and he's unable to contribute firepower. Now, his brother (who's also his C.O.) is about to ground him so the men don't whine about nepotism as well. One more raid for Ed then and, thank goodness, he makes amends by taking out half of Germany's fighting forces. The guys welcome him back with open arms and smiles, forgetting that a few hours before they were making chicken sounds and slapping him with towels in the shower. For some reason, I just knew that Ed would become a hero by the end of this morality play and, sure enough, I was right. Not one to settle on one cliche, Hank Chapman pulls two old templates off the DC War "Idea" Board: the fighter who can't seem to put any notches on his weapons and the siblings who happen to be in the same squadron.This reads pretty much like the last one of these we read.

Jack: Whenever a fighter isn't getting involved in the battles, you just know that by the end he's going to do something heroic. When we add a plane that can't leave the ground, you know it's going to fire and best a plane above it. The last panel is weird, almost unfinished. Very unlike Andru and Esposito in the main face.

Russ Heath

Showcase 45

Luis Dominguez

House of Mystery 226

"Garden of Evil"
Story by Jack Oleck
Art by Alfredo Alcala

"Teddy Doesn't Seem to Smile Anymore!"
Story by Martin Pasko
Art by Frank Robbins

"The Devil's Chessboard"
Story Uncredited
Art by Leonard Starr
(reprinted from House of Mystery 12, March 1953)

"The Living Nightmare!"
Story by John Broome
Art by Carmine Infantino and Bernard Sachs
(reprinted from The Phantom Stranger 5, May 1953)

"Monster in the House"
Story by Jack Oleck
Art by Nestor Redondo

"Scared to Life"
Story by Marv Wolfman
Art by Berni Wrightson
(reprinted from House of Mystery 180, June 1969)

"The School for Sorcerers"
Story Uncredited
Art by Bill Ely
(reprinted from House of Mystery 74, May 1958)

"The Perfect Mate"
Story by Robert Kanigher and Michael J. Pellowski
Art by Jess Jodloman

"The Wishes of Doom!"
Story Uncredited
Art by Curt Swan and George Klein
(reprinted from House of Mystery 10, January 1953)

"The Haunted Melody"
Story Uncredited
Art by Bill Ely
(reprinted from House of Mystery 58, January 1957)

"Do You Dare Enter the House of Mystery?"
Story by Paul Levitz
Art by Pat Broderick and Sergio Aragones

"Out of This World"
Story by Jack Oleck
Art by Gerry Talaoc

"Garden of Evil"

Peter: Mace spots a beautiful painting in a curio shop but when he draws his wife's attention to it, the painting becomes merely a mirror. He convinces Myra to buy the mirror anyway and takes it home. Soon, Mace is drawn into a parallel universe within the mirror populated by a gorgeous girl named Althea, a babe who's having trouble keeping the local demons at bay. Mace chases the creatures away and, after spending time with the girl, falls madly in love with her. Althea explains that she was cursed to remain in this land until someone from our world would willingly take her place. When Mace comes back to his own world, he explains the situation to his wife and she rather surprisingly agrees to switch places with Althea so that her husband will be happy. Mace returns to Althea with the good news but the girl quickly turns on him after something goes wrong. She becomes a hideous old hag and sics the demons on him. In the end, we discover that the entire scenario had played out within Mace's mind and, on advice from a psychiatrist, Myra has destroyed the mirror. Now, Mace lies in a coma-like state, completely insane. Though "Garden of Evil"is not among Alfredo's best work (way too many small panels for Alcala to work his magic), the Oleck script is smart and witty and, even though Mace was ready to trade up on his wife, I felt a big gob of sympathy for what was left of our protagonist in the end. As Jack notes below, the ending leaves a major question unanswered: was this really all in Mace's mind or did the mirror have supernatural qualities? If it did, wouldn't the shopkeeper have been aware of those qualities?

Jack: Any story that reminds me of "The Hungry Glass" is okay by me! Oleck does a nice job by slowly exposing Carl's true nature and the revelation that Althea was a witch surprised me. The ending is still a little fuzzy in my mind, but I thought this story was excellent in both writing and art.

Ouch!

Peter: Barbara's about to get married so it's time to put the stuffed animals (even Teddy) away and grow up. Wedding night comes and, just as the big moment is going to happen, who should pop out of Barbara's suitcase but... Teddy! Obviously, Marty Pasko wanted to slip one in (so to speak) about sexual innocence without alerting the Code. For a three-pager, this one's not too annoying. But then there's our old whipping boy, Frank Robbins who, based on the first panel, believes that bare breasts have buttons.

Jack: I think I must have stepped into the mirror world because I liked this story! It's a quickie, sure, but the portrait of a young woman having a mental breakdown on her honeymoon is frightening and Frank Robbins proves that he can draw a beautiful girl in a negligee!

Peter: Cora Willis gives birth to twins, one a cute little whippersnapper, the other not so. Young Philip inherits his parents' genes and will do well in the world but Adam, the new black sheep of the family, with his one eye and hunched back, would seem out of place everywhere but at Notre Dame. The parents do the only sensible thing: they lock Adam into a dungeon for the rest of his life while spoiling Philip with their love and attention. Reaching his 21st birthday, Adam discovers he's got a few paranormal tricks up his sleeve and he uses them to convince his parents to release him. They tell him they'll think about it and then plan his murder. One night they drug Adam's dinner, slip into his cell, and stab him to death. They drag his body out back but, while they're burying their son, Philip approaches. His parents try to explain themselves away but Philip shrugs and lets them in on his secret: Adam was able to project his mind into Philip's body so the Willises actually murdered their favored son. Aarghs are shared all around.

A familiar and predictable fable but one executed with a lot of flair. Cora and George are so irredeemably evil that, at times, the reader's credibility is stretched very thin. Still, Redondo's art is a thing of beauty and, overall, "Monster in the House" is a tad above average. Because he wrote so many scripts, many of them just so-so, there's an argument to be made that Jack Oleck was the best overall DC horror writer.

Enfantino's secret origin

Jack: Nine-tenths of a great story, with gorgeous art. Redondo is so good that he can even draw a hideous baby! The Quasimodo parallels are obvious and the parents are as evil as we've ever seen. If the twist ending weren't a letdown this would be a great story!

"The Perfect Mate"

Peter: Countess Irina Von Hohlberg only wants a man who'll love her for herself, not for her wealth or power. Finding that man is a tough road and the bodies pile up very quickly. Oh, I forgot to reveal that Irina is a vampire and she can compel her suitors to tell the truth (bad news for the guys!). The ones that lie end up stuffed in her museum. Eventually, Irina finds "The Perfect Mate," one who craves neither power nor wealth but only wants her "for herself." Trouble is, the guy's a werewolf. Double groan! This one's been done a bazillion times interchanging vampires with werewolves, ghouls, and demons. Michael Pellowski was a newbie (and would only contribute a bit more to the DC Horror Universe) but Bob Kanigher continues his unbroken streak of horror turkeys by subjecting us to one of the oldest cliches in comics. The saving grace is Jodlomon's incredible art. Kudos to the colorist as well (an artist that, perhaps, we don't give enough applause to on our journey) for making the whole doggone thing seem almost three-dimensional.

Jack: Wondering about the identity of Michael J. Pellowski, who provided the idea for this story, I did a little online sleuthing and discovered that he and I both went to Rutgers and we both live in Central NJ. He came from a broken home and managed to get on his feet, writing for comic books and eventually writing scads of books for children and young adults. It's interesting to see how often comics were an escape from an unhappy childhood and a doorway to a lifetime of writing.

"Do You Dare Enter..."

Jack: A likable two-page spread by Aragones makes "Do You Dare Enter the House of Mystery?" worth noting, especially since we meet the monster versions of several writers and artists whose names we often see in the DC horror comics.

Peter: Chip Barrow is one jealous guy. He used to have a bit of success on the circuit with his partner, Bobby Vance, but now Bobby's gone the solo route and is the hottest act in show business with his levitating gimmick. Now, Chip wants what Bobby's got so he visits Bobby's manager, the ominous Mr. Beals. The devilish Beals draws up a contract and tells Chip he can have Bobby's act but how he gets it is up to him. Chip takes charge and befriends Bobby, earning his trust, before lowering the boom on the rock star, torturing him until he gives up the secret. Seems that all Bobby has to do is hit a certain chord sequence during the act and he levitates. Chip murders Bobby and takes his place in the next concert, hitting the chords and setting off into the sky. Unfortunately, Chip never got the chord sequence that returns him safely to earth and he goes "Out of This World." Didn't we just get a demonic rocker tale not too long ago? Are the DC bull penners so desperate for material that they're recycling plots every few issues? I must say I was quite surprised when it was revealed that Mr. Beals (Beelzebub... get it?), the guy that can make contracts appear out of thin air and lights his cigars with a flaming finger, was the devil! No way! And can you remember the days when rock audiences were so vacuous that a gimmick like levitating would be seen as more Gosh! Wow! than the actual music? No, KISS doesn't count. Jack Oleck proves he can steal from the best as that climax, where we see Chip re-enter earth's gravity and a hippy in the park remarks on "the shooting star," borrows an effective twist from a controversial Wally Wood EC sci-fi tale by the title of "Home to Stay" (from Weird Fantasy #13, May 1952).


Jack: The weakest of the new stories in this issue, "Out of This World" combines two DC horror cliches--selling your soul to the Devil and rock and roll that seems a few years out of date. Still, Gerry Talaoc's art is always worth a look and I love that we were treated to new tales by Alcala, Redondo and Talaoc all in the same issue!

Drat the luck!

Peter: In the trusty "Reprint Department" this issue, a decidedly mixed bag. We get the unintentional  laughs and fanciful hi jinx of "The Devil's Chessboard" (wherein a foolish chess player insists on defying bad luck and playing on a cursed board) and "School for Sorcerers" (which has one of the most unbelievable sequences ever written for four colors (reprinted below)) as well as the hum-drum Phantom Stranger mystery, "The Living Nightmare" (a surprise since I've enjoyed all the Stranger adventures reprinted in the past). The tall tale that tickled my fancy the most this issue was Curt Swan's "The Wishes of Doom!", which follows a mysterious and deadly idol as it changes hands and lives. A murderer finds the ornate bust in a curio and, suffering from guilt, wishes his victim back to life. But with every wish comes a curse and the dead man rises to enact revenge on his murderer. We then watch as the curio falls into the hands of a vain woman (who wishes for beauty and then loses her boyfriend when he accuses her of being a witch) and a spoiled millionaire whose only wish is to land on the moon (he gets there but then, in an odd twist of bad planning, realizes that the inventor of the rocket never planned for a return trip!) before finally breaking the evil curse by coming into the possession of a man who only wants to build playgrounds for poor children. Ah, a happy ending in the House of Mystery? Well, sorta. Once our unselfish hero gets his wish he discards the idol so that no one will have to pay the penalty again but then, in the last panel, we see a garbage man taking a shine to the curio at the dumps! If I had one wish, it would be that all the stories in The House of Mystery 100-pagers would be as fun and innocent as "The Wishes of Doom."

Uh... could you run that by us one more time?

Jack: My favorite reprint this time was "The Haunted Melody," in which an organ grinder steals a music box that, when played, hypnotizes everyone within earshot into giving the monkey all of their money. At the end, the organ grinder is on the run from the cops but when he stops at a toll bridge, the monkey starts playing the music and his master has to give the toll change to the monkey! Fantastic. In a rare turn of events, the new stories outshone the reprints this month.

More Jess Jodlomon from "The Perfect Mate"

Frank Robbins

Peter: Wasn't the finale exactly like the Frank Robbins cover, Jack? Though I disagree with you on "Ice Cream"'s twist ending, I must completely agree with you on the cover, which could be the single best piece of art Frank Robbins ever created. It is, in fact, almost anti-Robbins in its glory.

Nick Cardy

The Witching Hour 46

"The Killer Came Slithering"
Story by George Kashdan
Art by Lee Elias

"A Ghastly Revenge"
Story by uncredited
Art by uncredited

"Burial Insurance"
Story by George Kashdan
Art by uncredited

Jack: Colonel Calhoun is a powerful man in the ante bellum south, but the Grim Reaper is more powerful. When death threatens to claim the colonel's son, only the timely intervention of old Zebulah can save the boy. Zebulah is the high priestess of the local snake handling cult and she makes the colonel promise to tear up the mortgage on her church before she'll save his son. But when the colonel double-crosses her and refuses to honor his end of the bargain, he learns that "The Killer Came Slithering." A beautiful young woman named Eva Beauregard happens on the scene and the colonel hires her as governess and soon asks her to be his wife. She turns into a boa constructor and strangles him to death. I guess it was the Old South setting and some sweet drawin' by Mr. Elias that made this story a tad more enjoyable than the usual Kashdan fare. And Cynthia never looked lovelier.

Peter: If the point of the DC horror stories is to shock and surprise, then these tales that just... end... are a bit tiresome and tough to slog through. Unfortunately, it seems we're hitting a point in the era where that type of story dominates. It's a double-edged sword though, I realize, in that the alternative is a shock finale that was set up and telecast in the first few panels.

Story? What story?

Jack: Constance may be a rich heiress, but her younger sister Nan really has what it takes to land a man. Unfortunately, the man she falls for is Baron Johann Von Macklund, who is engaged to Constance. Johann falls for Nan and the two marry, but Constance gets "A Ghastly Revenge" by sending her sister a pittance each month and having her chauffeur drive by her apartment daily to rub in the fact that Constance is still wealthy. To make it even worse, Constance wears her wedding dress and sits in the back of the open car to remind the young lovers of how she was jilted. After ten years of this, a few days pass without a drive-by, so Johann and Nan visit Constance's mansion to see why she stopped torturing them. Inside, they find the chauffeur lying dead on the floor and the rotting corpse of Constance, who died a few months after their wedding. Her loyal driver kept taking her dead body by their window every day for ten years in accordance with her wishes. The revelation drives Nan crazy. I had to read this one twice to figure out what the heck was going on. I assume Kashdan wrote it, though there's no credit, and the art looks a bit like watered-down Alex Nino to me.

"A Ghastly Revenge"

Jack: Rich old man Archer keeps his valuables down in the basement vault. When Radley, his driver, and Dell, his nurse, are burgling the loot and hear the old man and his watchman coming along, they have the brilliant idea of hiding Radley in the vault. Dell swears that no one else is there, so Archer has his watchman build a brick wall in front of the vault to make sure she's not lying. "Burial Insurance" is four pages long but really goes nowhere. There's no surprise ending--Radley is trapped in the vault and that's that. No big deal.

Peter: I wonder why there are no credits listed for artists on these last two stories. "Burial Insurance" looks like the work of Gerry Talaoc to me, but I could be wrong. How would you like to have a girlfriend like Dell, ready and willing to allow her beau to be walled up just to escape discovery?

"Burial Insurance"

Luis Dominguez

Weird Mystery Tales 13

"Come Share My Coffin"
Story by Jack Oleck
Art by Jess Jodloman

"His Master's Voice"
Story by Jack Oleck
Art by Alfredo Alcala

"Search for a Werewolf"
Story by George Kashdan
Art by Alex Nino

Peter: Peter Ward mourns his dead brother, John, and swears he'll take care of his widow, Myra, on the little farm the trio owned. Things are not what they seem, though, as we soon discover that John has only faked his death with the help of his "widow" in order to drive his slightly feeble-minded brother insane and take complete control of the farm. John makes his face up and pretends to be a vampire, "attacking" Myra in front of Peter. This drives Peter to distraction and Myra calls the sheriff, who calms Peter down and takes him out to the family crypt. There, trying to convince the big oaf that John is dead, he opens the coffin and they view John's body. Knowing they're well on their way to commitment to an asylum, the couple continue to pick at Peter until he snaps and accidentally kills Myra. When the sheriff shows up again, he listens to Peter's theory that Myra is also a vampire and takes the man back out to the crypt. This time though, when the coffin is opened, they find John, very dead, with bloodied hands and a ghastly death mask. Peter 'fesses up to the sheriff that that very day he'd nailed the coffin lid closed to prevent any more attacks from his vampiric brother.

Hey, if we gotta look at this, so do you!!

Wow! "Come Share My Coffin!" is a stinker in so many different ways. Jack Oleck piles cliche upon cliche but still finds room to heap in plot devices so stupid as to be almost criminal. John tells Myra that it took him "years to learn how to go into a coma." Some trick that, not only willing yourself into a death-like state but also using mind control on the simpleton doctors and coroners who pronounced him dead. And, usually, corpses are embalmed. No explanation on that one either.  Jess Jodloman's art is just as bad (if not worse), which is strange because just the same month he delivers a gorgeous job on "The Perfect Mate" in House of Mystery. There's no rhythm to his lines, characters look completely different from panel to panel (especially egregious is the sheriff who looks like your typical Carol O'Connor-type sheriff in one panel and a demonic ghoul in the next). Check out Myra's teeth below! The last page (reprinted above), in particular, is awful. To me, it looks like someone whispered in Jodloman's ear, "Be more like Ghastly Graham!"Bad mistake.


Jack: John remarks that "It took me years to learn how to go into a coma." He could've saved a lot of time if he just bought an issue of Ghosts. The art in this story is very uneven. Some panels look great while others are a mess. I did not understand how John got back into the coffin the first time around and sealed it, since they have to use a pry bar to open it. This means that the last time, when it's nailed shut and they use a pry bar again, it doesn't make much sense that they tell us that it was a snap to open the first time.

Peter: A loving dog watches as his young master's life slips away but then meets up with him again in the afterlife. Maudlin. Maudlin. Maudlin. What's meant to tug at your heartstrings only makes you roll your eyes to the heavens. The finale, when the boy's parents witness their dead son's ghost and his dog dancing at the graveyard, is bad enough but it's topped by a final panel where the husband pleads for his wife to be rational ("We saw what we wanted to see. But there was no one there. There couldn't have been.") just before they watch the dead boy's wind-up toy soldier walk past them in the road. Alcala is once again wasted in this claustrophobic six-panels-per-page format.

Jack: In trying for a touching tale, Oleck misses the mark. The twist ending is unnecessary. Alcala is not at his best, either--the size of the dog varies from panel to panel and in one he's the size of a large door. The panel where the dog sits alone by the boy's grave in the rain is impressive, though.

"Go ahead and hate your neighbor/ go ahead and cheat a friend..."

Peter: Famous horror film director Max Von Milstein demands realism in his flicks and, to that end, he travels to Transylvania to "Search for a Werewolf." What he finds is Count Wroclaw, a strange man who lives in a castle high in the hills with his servant, Orczy. Wroclaw is only too happy to provide data on the London Werewolf, a legend that Max is intent on recreating on the silver screen, until he finds out that Max is going to make a movie and that doesn't sit well with him. He warns the director not to tamper with things he doesn't understand. Max pays little attention to the old fool and, once he's back in America, he gets right to work. The actor chosen to play the werewolf isn't going well and von Milstein tells him to go off and rehearse somewhere. Before you can say "Larry Talbot," there's what seems to be a real werewolf in camp. The beast gets tangled up in cans of silver nitrate and that's his undoing. Once dead, the werewolf reverts back to... Max von Milstein! More lackadaisical scripting by hack Kashdan. It makes not a whit of sense that Wroclaw would help Max with his research and then cast him out (cursed as a werewolf yet) when he finds out von Milstein's next pic is A London Werewolf in America. The guy's a movie director and Wroclaw admits to said knowledge. What else is a director going to do with the information? As usual, the saving grace is the art by Alex Nino, whose werewolf is muscular and ferocious.


Jack: Was there ever a worse match of writer and artist than Kashdan and Nino? Kashdan's story is run of the mill with a dopey ending, but Nino's art just soars. I wait each month, hoping for something good by Nino, and this does not disappoint.

Nick Cardy

Ghosts 30

"The Dead of the Night"
Story by Leo Dorfman
Art by E.R. Cruz

"The Phantom in Our Family"
Story by Murray Boltinoff
Art by Lee Elias

"The Fangs of the Phantoms"
Story by Leo Dorfman
Art by Ernie Chan

Jack: A ghostly train comprised of seven black cars passes through a run down New York town on the anniversary of the date that the train carrying Abraham Lincoln's corpse passed through the same town a century before. That night, young Doug Carter runs away from home, hoping to spare his struggling father from having to feed another child. He boards an old, empty train and, once it is in motion, a shadowy (and very tall) figure lectures him about courage and tells him to never give up. In the morning, he returns home and all realize he rode the Lincoln ghost train in "The Dead of the Night" and got advice from Honest Abe himself. The identity of the ghostly advisor was obvious from the get-go, but at least Cruz drew a nice, spooky train.

Peter: I never get the point of these stories. If it's a "ghost train," how is Doug able to board? And for what purpose? To tell others that Honest Abe's spirit still rides the rails? Odd that Abe's face is never shown; as if it was a big secret who the ghost was. The art's okay but it doesn't touch Nick Cardy's vision of the haunted train on the cover.

"Gee, you look just like the back of this penny!"

Jack: It's March 1972, and the soldiers are coming home from Vietnam. Mama's family knows her son Joey is dead, but she doesn't believe it. When his coffin is delivered she runs from the room. In the next room, she sees Joey's spirit in the curtains blowing at the window and she holds his bronze star, which she claims he finally brought home to her. "The Phantom in Our Family" is fairly clunky in its exposition but the timeliness of its tale makes it unusually powerful for a story in Ghosts.

No laughing matter!

Peter: This one has an ending just like "The Dead of Night," an exposition built around an item delivered by a dead person. Did they really deliver the coffins to the houses of the relatives like that? If so, it was very cold and ghoulish. The more of Lee Elias' work I see, the more I come to think of him as a "competent" artist. He's neither horrible nor very good; nothing stylish but it gets the job done.

Jack: Back in 1923, the Congo was not the place to be, especially for District Officer Pierre Fontaine, charged with bringing two native murderers to justice. The men call themselves spirit sorcerers and conjure up a series of dangerous animals to attack their captor, though each animal dissipates into mist when fired upon. Finally, the natives escape by turning themselves into crocodiles and swimming away. "The Fangs of the Phantoms" sounds stupid, I know, but it's actually pretty good. At one point, one of the natives accidentally has one of his fingers shot off. You don't see that every day in a DC comic!

"The Fangs of the Phantoms"

Peter: Ernie Chan, our friend from Batman in the 1970s days, makes the jungle ride tolerable and the script, by process of elimination, wins Best of the Issue. An accolade like this, mind you, is like voting "We're an American Band" the best hit of Grand Funk's career. It's all relative.

After yet another awful issue of Ghosts!, Jack wants to throw in the trowel.

Please do not write on your computer screen

Peter and his bestest pal, Superman

by Jack Seabrook

The sixth season of Alfred Hitchcock Presents began on NBC, a new network, and on Tuesday, a new night, with "Mrs. Bixby and the Colonel's Coat," broadcast on September 27, 1960, and based on the story of the same name by Roald Dahl. The story had been published first in the December 1959 issue of Nugget, a men's magazine competing with Playboy. Dahl's tale begins with an extended lecture by the author about how American divorce laws make slaves of men and how, to comfort themselves, they tell stories such as this one.

Dr. Bixby, a dentist, and his wife live in New York City. Once a month, she claims to take the train to Baltimore to visit her Aunt Maude while actually visiting the wealthy Colonel, with whom she has been having an affair for eight years. One year, just before Christmas, the Colonel's groom presents her with a gift from the Colonel as she boards the train for home. She opens the gift on the train and sees that it is a beautiful mink coat; with it is a brief note from the Colonel telling her that he can't see her anymore. Her disappointment over the end of their relationship is minimal: "What a dreadful shock," she thinks. "She would miss him enormously."

Mrs. Bixby's delight on first trying on the coat

With that out of the way, she goes back to admiring her new coat until she realizes that it will be hard to explain to her husband. On arriving in New York, she asks a taxi driver to take her to a pawn shop, where she pawns the coat for a loan of $50 until Monday. She insists that the pawn ticket be left blank as to the identification of the item and its owner. Returning home to her husband, she thinks about all of his characteristics that she would like to see changed. She perceives him as "subsexual," his fancy clothes designed to hide a lack of masculinity. She shows him the pawn ticket and claims that she found it in the taxi.

Les Tremayne as Bixby

The Bixbys speculate about the item it will redeem and he says that he will pick it up on Monday. If it is something nice, he promises to give it to her for Christmas. On Monday morning, he calls her to say that he picked up the item and she tries to guess what it is. At lunchtime, she visits him at the office and is shocked when he presents her with a "ridiculous fur neckpiece." She pretends to like it and he tells her that "I'm afraid you mustn't expect anything else for Christmas. Fifty dollars was rather more than I was going to spend anyway." He adds that he will be late getting home that evening.

Mrs. Bixby stars to leave, planning to confront the pawnbroker, when Dr. Bixby's young assistant returns from lunch, wearing "the beautiful black mink coat that the Colonel had given to Mrs. Bixby."

Stephen Crane as the Colonel

Dahl's story has a very British feeling even though it is set in America and deals with American characters. The irony is subtle but the revenge that Dr. Bixby takes on his unfaithful wife is devastating. Husband and wife clearly dislike each other and, at the end of the story, each is aware of the other's deception yet they keep the knowledge to themselves in order to maintain the status quo. The story gets off to a poor start with Dahl's misogynistic introduction, but the strength of the plot and the surprise of the twist ending are undeniable.

"Mrs. Bixby and the Colonel's Coat" was collected in Dahl's collection entitled Kiss Kiss that was published in 1960. The story was purchased for Alfred Hitchcock Presents and adapted for television by Halsted Welles. Alfred Hitchcock directed the episode, which was produced from August 17, 1960, to August 19, 1960. Psycho had been released in June and the director had not yet started working on Marnie.

From the opening sequence

The televised version of "Mrs. Bixby and the Colonel's Coat" is more successful than the short story version, due to crisp direction by Hitchcock and strong performances by the cast, led by Audrey Meadows as Mrs. Bixby and Les Tremayne as her husband. Hitchcock is in playful mode with the opening sequence, where a patient in a dental chair has a tooth drilled in unflinching closeup. The lovingly photographed though unpleasant procedure is classic Hitchcock.

The show is characterized by a light, humorous tone from start to finish. When Mrs. Bixby comes to her husband's office to bid him farewell before going to Baltimore, she is welcomed in by his pretty nurse, much to the chagrin of a male patient who has been sitting in the waiting room. "I believe I'm next," he tells the nurse, thinking Mrs. Bixby is a patient who skipped ahead of him in line.

Hardly the kiss of two who dislike each other, or so it seems . . .

Dr. and Mrs. Bixby discuss mundane matters of their family's finances; this exchange shows that money is tight and they appear to be a middle-aged, married couple in love with each other. Dr. Bixby laments that his wife will be gone for a single night and she passionately kisses him goodbye. Mrs. Bixby then takes the train to Baltimore, where she is met by a Black chauffeur and taken to a genteel Southern mansion. On its porch, she embraces the Colonel and gives him an equally passionate kiss! The sudden discovery that she is cheating on her husband is a surprise after the seemingly loving farewell they shared.

Mrs. Bixby arrives at the Colonel's house

As she speaks with the Colonel, he reveals that they first met when he was a hospital patient and she was a nurse. She compares his house and grounds to her home in New York City, and it is clear that she prefers the genteel, expansive residence of her lover to the cramped quarters she shares with her spouse. All is not well, however, as the Colonel announces that he must visit a neighbor to view horses that will be auctioned off the next day. The next morning, at breakfast, he again talks of horses, and when he later leaves to go to the auction he instructs his maid to give Mrs. Bixby the gift and goodbye letter, both of which she opens while still at his house rather than in the bathroom on the train, as she does in the story.

Audrey Meadows as Mrs. Bixby

Mrs. Bixby is known to the maid, whom she calls Eloise, and to the chauffeur, who she calls Johnson; they both call her Mrs. Bixby. The relations between the races are a subtle and wry way that Welles and Hitchcock show the contrast between North and South, between New York and Baltimore--perhaps Hitchcock believed that Baltimore was closer to the Deep South than it really was.

The plot follows that of the story closely after that, as Mrs. Bixby returns to New York and pawns her coat. Back at home that evening, she and her husband again discuss mundane details of his work, adding to the contrast between the life she lives openly and the one she has been living in secret, her day to day life in reality and her once a month excursion into near-fantasy.

The scene between Mrs. Bixby and her husband, where she produces the pawn ticket and feigns ignorance of what it is, is beautifully payed by Audrey Meadows and Les Tremayne. Earlier in the show, before her duplicity had been revealed, they appeared to be a loving couple. Now, their interactions seem to be those of two people who are pretending; it is evident that the marriage is a sham and that each one realizes it without being aware that the other knows it as well.

"It's not every woman who has a mink!"

The final scene, at Bixby's office, is equally well played. Mrs. Bixby pretends not to know what's coming while Dr. Bixby pretends to have an exciting surprise for her. He dangles the pitiful mink stole over his head like he is waving a sausage in front of a hungry dog, and the look of disappointment on her face is perfect. He asks, "What's the matter--don't you like it?" and remarks that "It isn't every woman who has a mink!" Mrs. Bixby's facial expressions telegraph her emotions as she goes from disappointment, to angry determination, to shock as the pretty nurse walks by wearing the mink coat.

At the end, the cheater is cheated. Mrs. Bixby thought that her ruse was unknown but she has been outsmarted by her husband. Did he know that she took the coat to the pawnbroker, or did he think that she really just found the ticket in a taxi? Did he give the coat to his nurse knowing he was taking something that his wife had received from her lover? Has he been having an affair with his nurse all along, or is the gift of the mink coat the beginning of a beautiful relationship? After the final shot, will Mrs. Bixby confront her husband? Will he confront her? Dahl, Welles and Hitchcock, along with the cast of the TV show, combine to create characters who have believable pasts and futures, who exist beyond the confines of the half hour window through which we observe their lives. All we know is that the Bixby marriage has changed irrevocably and that Mrs. Bixby got what she deserved.

Halsted Welles (1906-1990), who wrote the teleplay for "Mrs. Bixby and the Colonel's Coat," wrote for movies and TV starting in 1949. He wrote six episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents and another six of Night Gallery. He is best known for writing the screenplay for 3:10 to Yuma (1957).

Mrs. Bixby sees the nurse wearing her coat

As Mrs. Bixby, Audrey Meadows (1922-1996) plays a character very different than Alice Kramden socio-economically, yet her face and voice are so associated with her role on The Honeymooners that it is impossible to watch this episode and not think of her saying "Ralph!" She won an Emmy in 1954 for her work with Jackie Gleason and worked almost exclusively in television from 1951 to 1995, reprising the Alice role into the 1970s. This was her only appearance on the Hitchcock show. A website devoted to her career is here.

Playing her husband is Les Tremayne (1913-2003), who was born in England and who acted for decades on radio, in movies, and on TV. He was on the Hitchcock series four times, including "Isabel." He had a small part in Hitchcock's North By Northwest (1959).

Sally Hughes

Stephen Crane (1902-1982) plays the Colonel; this was his only appearance on the Hitchcock show. He played character parts in movies from the early 1930s and later on TV. Sally Hughes plays the nurse; she had few credits other than two appearances on the Hitchcock show.

"Mrs. Bixby and the Colonel's Coat" was remade twice for television. The first time was for a BBC series called Thirty-Minute Theatre; Hugh Whitemore wrote the teleplay. This episode was broadcast on November 2, 1965, and has been lost.

The second adaptation was for Roald Dahl's Tales of the Unexpected. The teleplay was by Ronald Harwood and the show was broadcast on March 31, 1979. It may be viewed for free online here. Roald Dahl introduces this episode and remarks that the short story took him about five months to write (it was completed in January 1957) because he took so many wrong turns while trying to work out the plot. Julie Harris plays Mrs. Bixby in this version, in which the setting is moved from America to England and Ireland. The episode is dull, marred by inept camerawork and bad music.

The 1960 version of "Mrs. Bixby and the Colonel's Coat" is not available online but is available on DVD.

Sources:
Dahl, Roald. "Mrs. Bixby and the Colonel's Coat." 1959. Roald Dahl: Collected Stories. Ed. Jeremy Treglown. New York: Everyman's Library, 2006. 536-52. Print.
Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 18 Apr. 2015. <http://www.wikipedia.org/>.

Joe Kubert

Our Army at War 134

"The T.N.T. Book"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert

"The Mouse and the Tiger"
Story by Ed Herron
Art by Ross Andru and Mike Esposito

Jack: The latest replacement soldier to join Easy Co. is a former insurance salesman whom Rock names "Mister Percent" because he has a habit of quoting the odds from an actuarial book that he carries around. Rock thinks Percent is taking unnecessary risks and tells him that odds don't count in war. Percent's devil-may-care attitude and ability to survive any danger begin to rub off on the rest of Easy Co. and they wonder if there's something to this odds business. Rock knows better and thinks that sticking to the odds is a dangerous way to live. When Rock is injured during a battle with an enemy plane, his men throw the odds out the window and attack a fortified town despite Percent's telling them that the odds are against them. In the end, Rock saves the day with a tank and Percent rips up his book. Kubert's art is wonderful as always but Kanigher's script for "The T.N.T. Book" is strictly one-note.

Peter: Usually I can find something to give a Sgt. Rock story the thumbs-up but this is one of those rare misfires thanks to its tedious message and obvious outcome. Kanigher loves his gimmicks and catch phrases but, with Rock, it's usually kept to a minimum and doesn't get anywhere near the annoying point it reaches a mere three or four pages into "The T.N.T. Book." Is it just me or does it look like Rock actually has a hole in his head in the panel on page 14?

Maybe it's an oily smudge?

Jack: An American spy in WWII is left for dead in the snow when the plane he was on is shot down. How will he get back to base to deliver the news of an impending Nazi sneak attack? A huge Nazi tank (Tiger) is in the area and is sent to kill him. The only American tank in the area is a tiny one (Mouse), no match for the Nazi behemoth. "The Mouse and the Tiger!" square off in the snow for the fate of the spy and his important message. All seems lost until the mouse uses a bit of trickery and blows the tiger sky high, saving the spy. I don't usually enjoy Andru & Esposito's work, but this is a terrific story, with the snowy setting adding a sense of doom that ratchets up the suspense.

The Mouse destroys the Tiger!

Peter: According to my anally detailed records, this is only the second time we've encountered Ed Herron, the writer, on our journey (the first being "Tell Baker I'll Be There," way back in our second post) and he'll only pop up on our radar a couple more times before his death in September 1966. Herron was no stranger to the DC War Universe though, since he contributed 164 scripts to the DC war titles prior to our 1959 start-up date. It's quite startling when the "Big Three" of Kanigher, Chapman, and Haney are interrupted by an "outsider" and, wonder of wonders, that outsider kayos Kanigher this issue just like The Mouse kayo'd The Tiger. A suspenseful drama with a nice twist in its tail and a final trisected panel that's quite cinematic.

Jerry Grandenetti & Jack Adler

GI Combat 101

"The Haunted Tank vs. Attila's Battle Tiger!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Jack Abel

"Green Men--Red, Hot War!"
Story by Bob Haney
Art by Jack Abel

"Kayo from a Dead Fort!"
Story by Bob Haney
Art by Ross Andru and Mike Esposito

Peter: The Jeb Stuart comes up against its stiffest competition yet: a Nazi Red Tiger that has its own ghost, that of 5th Century conqueror Attila the Hun! Jeb Stuart (the ghost) tells Jeb Stuart (his descendant) that if the Jeb Stuart (the tank) doesn't defeat the Tiger in battle, all is lost. The Tiger is clearly the stronger of the two tanks and it gets the upper hand, blowing the Stuart onto its back and leaving it helpless. Risking a backfire, Jeb orders his men to fire the cannon while upside down and the Tiger is blown to smithereens. Above the wreckage, the ghosts of the General and the Hun battle away, with predictable results. Robert Kanigher was a genius at opening the mythos up to include other spirits protecting World War II militia. Perhaps even Bob was getting tired of the formula corner he'd written himself into after fourteen adventures and craved a bit more freedom in his plots. In any event, it works, although I could have done with a few more pages to fill in the blanks (why is the Hun protecting this particular tank--is one of his descendants riding shotgun inside?). Jack Abel is at the top of his game with "HT vs. Attila..." and, if you squint a bit, he does a wondrous job aping Heath.

Nope, it ain't Heath!

Jack: Gotta disagree with you on this one! I thought it was a dull story with second-rate art. Since when is there another ghost? And why would Attila the Hun side with the Nazis? The ending--where the ghost of Jeb Stuart tells the tank commander that "Everytime you fight against tyrants--no matter what their names are--who would crush free people--you beat tyranny back into the shadows!"--might work in a nostalgic way if this comic had been put out in 1943, but by 1963 it just seems dated.

Bond... James Bond

Peter: The good guys send a company of green marines to an unoccupied island in the Pacific, unaware that the Japanese have done the same. Our boys land on the east side of the island while the enemy lands on the west. The Americans are commanded by a combat-green lieutenant while the Japanese are overseen by one of their veterans, Captain Tagawa. At first, neither side knows what's going on but, once the cat is out of the bag, a vicious battle ensues with the inexperienced "looie" gaining the upper hand through a series of ingenious tricks and good old-fashioned defense. "Green Men--Red, Hot War!" is another very enjoyable battle saga despite the usual trappings (the oft-used split screen showing both sides doing exactly the same thing at exactly the same time) and scenes that stretch credibility (at one point, the Americans fashion skis out of ammo boxes and slalom down a sand dune, firing off their machine guns as the enemy shriek and high tail it). Aside from the horse faces seen on some of his characters, Jack Abel puts in his second stellar job of the issue.

Jack: At the beginning of this story, I thought "Oh, no! Not another split-screen tale!" But it quickly got very exciting and I ended up really liking it. It was a good idea to have two sets of new recruits from opposing armies decide to train on the same island, since it sets up a contrast between the disciplined Japanese and the unruly Americans. The new lieutenant wins out over the veteran opponent due to creativity, courage, and not a little luck.

Peter: German ace Hauptmann Kroner is looking to add more little "Amerikaner Fort" decals to his killer Focke-Wulf but, little does he know, right at that very second, a green tail gunner is preparing to board the plane that will end the scumbag Nazi's career. It doesn't appear that way at first, believe you me, as the German gets the upper hand on our hero but, once the B-17 is whittled down to nothing but its tail section, the battle begins. Ignoring that he's plummeting to the ground at roughly the speed of light, our rookie hero delivers a "Kayo From a Dead Fort" to Kroner with extreme prejudice and makes the skies much friendlier for the Allies. An awards ceremony is already in place at the point his parachute puts him down. And this issue was going so well. Not only does our Andru and Esposito wide-eyed Opie Taylor take down an Ace but he also manages to parachute from the falling tail section as it's exploding. One medal? Give this guy a squadron of medals and then send him out to get Hitler! I'm not the world's smartest guy but, once the tail section is broken off, wouldn't it point up and fall straight down rather than continue sailing horizontally through the sky? Sometimes, the characters Andru and Esposito contribute look hopped up.

Who needs a whole plane to do the dirty work?

Jack: Yet another miracle in the sky! Who would have thought that such a dud of a story would inspire such a cool cover! Look at those colors! Grandenetti is so much more bearable when he's not drawing people and Adler's wash technique makes these covers unlike anything else DC was putting out at the time, as far as I know.

Ross Andru & Mike Esposito

Star Spangled War Stories 110

"Tunnel of Terror! The Suicide
Squadron's Mystery Mission!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Ross Andru and Mike Esposito

"Sausage Flier"
Story Uncredited
Art by Jack Abel

Peter: A PT Boat enters a massive storm at sea and exits onto an island filled with "dinosaurs of the stone age!" Aboard the boat is a professor researching uncharted islands in the hopes of discovering a legendary giant white gorilla. The men are attacked by a mass of killer dinos before being saved by... you guessed it, Pongo, the white gorilla! The giant ape saves the PT boat from attack and gives his life for the sailors, sinking under the waves with a last wave. The men are duly touched and then head back to charted waters, swearing they'll never share the tale. It could be the fact that we've now read 19 of the Rinse Wash Repeat adventures of the hapless military men who happen into the vast uncharted Pacific Stone Age Zone, but "Tunnel of Terror blahblahblah" offered a little something new and I enjoyed it for that. "But Peter", you say, "that something new you rave about is ripped off from a 1933 classic--even though Andru and Esposito's graphics are actually closer to the effects found in the 1967 Toho feature where the titular gorilla Escapes--have you lost your marbles?" Verily, you may be right, but I'll take just about anything Kanigher throws my way that breaks up the formula of this drone of a series. Incidentally, the Suicide Squad depicted here returns in a sequel next issue but the GCD informs us that this band of sailors has nothing to do with the Suicide Squad that will set up residence in the Stone Age Zone beginning in SSWS #116. Confused yet? Well, I won't bother to tell you about the further incarnations of the Squad (including the one made up of DC super-villains and soon heading to the big screen) but you can find a good summation here.

Gorilla on Dino action in the Dazzling DC tradition!

Jack: Poor captain! He can't tell anyone about his dinosaur adventure for fear of being thought insane! If only he knew that about half of the U.S. servicemen at this point have encountered dinosaurs in the Pacific. I was also duly impressed by the primitive cave drawings that the captain and his pal the professor found scattered around the island. They looked like stick figure drawings of the sort a kindergartner would make. The big white gorilla was just one of the countless DC gorillas to appear in the swingin' sixties, and his demise, with his hand waving bye-bye, also reminded me of the end of Son of Kong, where the heroic young ape saves the humans by holding them above the water level as he drowns. Kind of brings a tear to the eye!

Proof that Jack is more than Abel at times!

Peter: Pvt. Harrigan is tired of grunt work and dreams of soaring through the skies and blasting Baron Von Richtenhofernauser's Fokkers from the sky with great panache, After putting in for a transfer, he's shocked to discover he's been assigned to an observation balloon. The poor guy is nothing but a "Sausage Fryer Flier" and his comrades ride him for his perceived cowardice. In the end, though, Harrigan proves he's got the stuff of a hero when he takes out an entire squadron of Germans with nothing more than binoculars, string, and a ham sandwich. When one of the falling Fokkers (damn this spellcheck) lands on his balloon, he uses a heaping helping of ingenuity to further wipe out a German ground militia with their own fighter. No longer just a "Sausage Flier," Harrigan gets a hero's welcome and a pair of wings for his lapel. Yet another in the unending series of morality stories designed to teach us that the grass which is greener on the other side may contain its share of weeds. If there's nothing new about the script, at least we get some good Jack Abel art and a few well-choreographed (though highly improbable) action sequences.

Jack: Yet another unlikely air battle. Harrigan informs us that his balloon is filled with helium, so it doesn't explode when riddled with bullets. I thought this was a weak story with bland art, and I LIKE stories about WWI biplanes!

As you can see... We're having a hard time keeping mum about all the horrors and terrors that await you in our next stark raving mad issue!

Joe Kubert

Our Army at War 131

"One Pair of Dogtags--For Sale!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert

"Desert Hotfoot"
Story by Bob Haney
Art by Jack Abel

"Everybody Makes It In Dog Co.!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Jack Abel

Jack: When Easy Co. is given the task of taking the French village of L'Oisseau, it looks deserted, but Sgt. Rock goes on ahead alone to make sure. He finds a Nazi machine gun nest hidden in the wreckage and manages to destroy it with some well-thrown grenades. Giving the all-clear sign to the rest of Easy Co. turns out to be a mistake, as the weapon from a second Nazi machine gun pins down the men of Easy and knocks Rock off his feet. The sergeant doesn't give up, though, and manages to crawl up under fire and disarm the gun using his helmet. Rock is critically wounded and, when Easy Co. gets him to a doctor in a nearby camp, no one can find a donor with AB negative blood to save the fading hero. Luckily, a nurse lying on a stretcher has the necessary blood type and, one transfusion later, Rock is saved.

As Easy Co. moves on, Rock is troubled by not knowing the name of the nurse who saved him and whom he was not able to thank. He asks after her everywhere but is unable to locate her until she turns up in the middle of another battle. This time, she is wounded, and Rock is able to repay the favor at last with a blood donation of his own. When Kanigher and Kubert are firing on all cylinders, it makes me glad I read comic books. "One Pair of Dogtags--For Sale!" is a terrific story that will be in my top ten of 1963.

Sgt. Rock hallucinates that Bulldozer is a cute blonde

Peter: A bit of a lightweight entry compared to some of the heavy lifters we've read lately but, make no mistake, still a good read. For some reason, the happy ending doesn't come off as sappy to me. Far from lightweight, though, is the standout sequence where Rock has to improvise or watch his men die; he manages to craft an oven mitt from his tin pot to deflect a cannon from taking out his guys. Fabulously gritty stuff, that!

Not so much

Jack: A soldier with aching feet gets a "Desert Hotfoot!" when his sarge tells him to walk across the desert and bring back a prisoner. He trades his watch for a passing Arab's camel but is quickly thrown from the beast's back. He hitches a ride on a U.S. tank but finds it has been hijacked by Nazis. Finally, he forces a Nazi commander at gunpoint to give him a piggyback ride back to camp. It's discouraging to see such a poor story follow such a great Sgt. Rock story, but at least it was short.

Peter:  Lucky for our lazy soldier that the Nazi tank men speak English and they speak it loud enough to hear through inches of steel! So, the only amusing scene in this tedium was the one you weren't supposed to laugh at.  Nothing worse than a comedy that's not funny.

Jack: A soldier trying to take Dead End Hill is determined not to die and let his dog tags become part of the sergeant's growing collection. He rushes a tank and destroys it by shooting into its view slit, thus saving his company from further carnage. His sarge plants a rifle in the ground at the top of the hill and hangs the dog tags of the men who didn't make it from the butt end, announcing that "Everyone Makes it in Dog Co!" To the top of the hill, that is--eventually. A gritty little four-pager from Kanigher that shows that death and despair are not always the end of the story.


Peter: Write this down: "You're not getting my dog tags, Sarge!" There, you've just written a DC war story.

Irv Novick

All American Men of War 97

"The Ship That Fought In Three Wars!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Irv Novick

"A 'Target' Called Johnny!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Irv Novick

Peter: A World War I pilot suddenly finds himself in "The Ship That Fought in Three Wars!" Unable to impress the British pilots he's been detailed with, Leftenant Brooks, a young American pilot, attempts to win their attention and respect with air tricks but the seasoned aces aren't buying. They want victories, not stunts. So, determined to score a few kills before the sun rises, our hero hits the skies in search of prey and finds a helpless German zeppelin. Shooting the giant balloon down, the pilot heads home convinced he's taken the first step, only to be shot down (pun intended) by his seniors, who demand proof of the victory. Undeterred, our boy heads back out with his comrades but manages to lose himself in a heavy cloud bank. When he comes out the other end, he's attacked by a lone Messerschmitt, a plane that won't even exist for over two decades! Though Brooks shoots the German from the sky, the men are still not convinced and Brooks heads back out the next day with his young mechanic, Albert, in tow. Emerging from the same strange cloud bank, they are fired upon by a commie jet over Korean skies. While filming the phantom jet, Albert takes a bullet for the team just before Brooks blasts it from the sky. Once on the ground, the film is shown to be blank but, just as he's receiving another dressing-down from his Major, a doctor rushes into the viewing room to announce he's just dug a bullet out of young Albert; a bullet of unknown caliber! Enjoyable enough romp, but don't look for any explanations from Bob. How did this pilot fly into a cloud and end up in MIG Alley? Who knows? Another five pages and Leftenant Brooks might have landed on one of those uncharted islands in the Pacific. I'm more interested in why the film was blank.

Peter: In his 16th adventure, Johnny Cloud is having a tough time convincing a hard-nosed tank sergeant that pilots and tank men can work together to win the war. It's only after Cloud makes himself "A Target Called Johnny" and draws the fire of the enemy that the tank sergeant comes around to our hero's way of thinking. The bottom of the bill in our Kanigher/Novick Double Feature isn't much better than the "prestige picture," but it's not bad for a Johnny Cloud starrer. There's a bit in this story where the tank guys admit they have no idea how to use the clock face to identify where an enemy is. That's hard to imagine, isn't it? There's one word to describe Irv Novick's usually dependable artwork in "A Target Called Johnny": cluttered. Way too much activity going on in every panel to focus; it's as if Novick decided each and every panel had to be filled with military vehicles and gunfire. We get one of those typically sappy climaxes where the antagonist comes around to the way our hero thinks in the space of two or three panels and acknowledges what we already know: Johnny Cloud is a genius. Groan.

In Our Next Shape-Changing Issue! On Sale March 30!

Peter: Oil man Dirk Slade is used to getting what he wants and flexing his muscles in the jungles of Venezuela is all in a day's work. Convinced that crude is just a short dig away, Dirk terrorizes and enslave the natives, shooting down those he considers to be lazy. As Slade himself says, "I've got oil in my blood -- and I'm not going to stop until I'm satisfied!"Sure enough, the dig is successful and, despite the protestations from the natives that they are on sacred ground, Slade lets the gusher fly. His partner, Carp, pleads with the big man to treat the slaves with dignity but Slade has no time to deal with the superstitions of "savages." Just as the oil begins to flow, a virus hits the camp and Slade becomes bedridden. The only doctor in camp, one of the natives, is called to Dirk's bedside and gives the boss an injection. Though Dirk insists he must get back to the oil, the doctor tells him he can't move or be moved for 72 hours. As he's leaving, the medic lights his pipe and drops a match into the oil that surrounds Dirk Slade's tent.


We've seen the arrogant, greedy American come to a foreign land to rape and pillage before (and, in the 1970s, we'll see it just about every month in the DC horror line) and Dirk Slade, the meat-headed sadist of "Oil" (from Black Cat #44) is no different from those other arrogant protagonists (how much more arrogant and American could a character's name be?). In fact, the set-up and delivery of "Oil" is nothing groundbreaking; the nudge I needed to put this story in my Top Five was its cold-as-ice climax. Has the doctor just sedated Slade and then purposely dropped that match to ignite a killing inferno or was it just an act of random foolishness? I'm falling on the side of the former, as the doc does mention to Dirk's partner that his heart really isn't in healing this monster who's killing off his village for the almighty dollar. That final sequence of panels, showing the first flitter of fire and then moving to the raging inferno, are pretty powerful images for a funny book.

Jose: It’s one thing to be whipped by your wife but it’s another matter entirely to be whipped by her pet cat, too. Bevin Shawcross (whose parents clearly didn’t love him enough to just name him “Kevin”) is just such a poor soul, though in his defense the “pet cat” that his wife keeps constantly at her side is actually a fierce black panther who is always cowing Bevin with snarls and slashes when the missus isn’t doing the same. A fakir grabs Bevin’s attention one day when he offers to show the harried husband the way of astral projection. Sensing an expedient means of killing his wife and finally showing the strength she always told him he lacked, Bevin transfers his soul into the panther’s body and prepares to rend his wife to pieces. Just then from his own human body (taken for dead by his wife) comes the hazy projection of a man in his image. How can this be? The spirit cracks a good one over the Bevin-panther’s head, subduing the animal to its will. You see, transference works both ways, and now with timid Bevin in the body of the kept cat and the mighty feline spirit embodying Bevin’s old body, the order of the jungle has been rightfully restored.

A horrific comedy of manners, “My Husband, the Cat” (from #43) is one of Bob Powell’s high watermarks in his tenure at Harvey Comics. Oh, there’ve been plenty of other tales where the maestro has been able to exult his considerable artistic talents to greater and more visible heights, but this story has such a winning concept and execution that allows it to leave a lasting impression in the reader’s mind. Interestingly, Powell doesn’t provide Mrs. Shawcross with a first name. Is our hero so emotionally broken by his wife that he dare not even invoke her name, like a sacred goddess of old, for fear of facing her feminine wrath? Even when one considers the homicidal extent Bevin was prepared to go to, the final panel of him suffering in forced silence—just as he did when he was human—is a total downer, and one of the most damning punishments we’ve seen yet from the merciless folks at Harvey. For people like Bevin, death is much more preferable.

Peter: In the Black Hills of South Dakota, a lynch mob confronts the six suspects in the murder of Hank Gore, a local police chief. It's a varied group, comprised of a few hillbillies, a very attractive young lady, and a muscular oaf by the name of Jed Williams (our narrator). One by one, the bumpkins are eliminated from the suspect list until only two are still in the spotlight: the attractive Margie and our hapless narrator. Margie 'fesses up that she and the chief were pretty close but Jed knows better: he witnessed Margie blow Hank away in a fit of jealousy. He's keeping mum but Margie decides to toss Jed into the river by telling the mob Jed is the killer. We find out, in the final panel, as the innocent man is being strung up, that the reason Jed kept quiet is because he's mute.

"Lynch Mob" (from #45) is about as close to an EC Shock Suspenstory as Harvey ever got and would have held up just fine next to such "real life horror stories" as "Confession" (from Shock SuspenStories #4, Sept. 1952). The drama escalates so quickly and seamlessly that we never even question why this guy isn't defending himself until it's too late. Our last look at Jed is through the noose being fixed around his neck. The real culprit, the gorgeous Margie, is going to walk away scot- free and, ironically, with the sympathy of the crazed mob. Once again, Howard Nostrand perfectly apes Jack Davis with a bit of Wally Wood thrown in here and there.


Jose: Henri Fabret is being escorted to the guillotine by a prison guard, but the man has no fear for what is to come. In fact, he’s looking forward to it. For as long as Henri can remember, he has had a fixation with the spilling of blood. From his time as a child throwing knives with his friends and staring longingly at his cut flesh to his years as a soldier gleefully rushing the enemies on the damp battleground, Henri has longed to see the red liquid flow in any amount. His days as a regular civilian are no different. Meeting an attractive waitress at one of his favorite restaurants, Henri takes her out to a boxing match on their first date so he can see the blood-smeared ring. When Marie cuts herself trying to open a bottle of wine, Henri’s obsession pushes him to strangle his lover in a fit of madness. When we rejoin Henri at the guillotine we finally understand his morbid excitement. He’s not anticipating the sanguinary shower of his own death but that of the unfortunate prisoner awaiting execution. You see, Henri is the prison’s official executioner!

More disturbing than any coffin-dwelling vampire, Henri Fabret is in the same class of unnerving human characters as Renfield from DRACULA and the deranged subject of Theodore Sturgeon’s SOME OF YOUR BLOOD, a mortal whose dark infatuation with the rich life fluid leads to increasingly horrible transgressions. “River of Blood” (from #48), like those other stories, defines Henri’s fascination with blood with the coda of sexual derangement, his ravings at the sight of the vivid red subtletly likened to coital ecstasy, seen most especially in the moment when Henri kills Marie in an impotent rage when she refuses his demand to let her wound bleed out. That this is serviced with one of Bob Powell’s cleverest wraparound twists only sweetens the mixture.


Peter: A scientist watches as his ground-breaking research is continually "borrowed" by a series of assistants and he's never given the credit he's due. He swears to his wife that he'll become famous one day and begins solo work on his major achievement. The breakthrough comes and he makes an appointment with a large chemical corporation to sell them on the idea. Unfortunately, at exactly the same time, another scientist happens upon the same result and our protagonist is thrown into a delirium of depression. With moral support from his understanding wife, the scientist gets right back into the game, determined to "draw out the hidden secrets of the unknown," but in a fit of rage he ends up blowing up his lab and himself in the process.

"What Was the Discovery" (from #46) is, at the same time, fabulously mysterious and annoyingly ambiguous. Just what are all these discoveries our hapless scientist keeps stumbling upon and then fumbling the ball on? The only thing we can be sure is that each one of them has to do with explosions and, therefore, the military, but our uncredited writer is being deliberately vague as to the exact nature of the experiments (although, at one point, the scientist reveals that he has "an atomic theory that will revolutionize science!"). Right from that atmospheric splash, Manny Stallman and John Giunta draw us into this cutthroat world that chews up and spits out its big brains (the scientist starts his narrative by informing us "(m)y name doesn't really matter!"), leaving them, like our hero, buried in the rubble. You're only as good as your last bomb.


Jose: In 17th century France, the evil Richelieu is weaseling his way into the king’s favor, throwing the country into an upheaval of power where musketeers fight the royal forces to restore order. One of a group of four brave and strong musketeers, D’Artagnan, proposes telling Richelieu that they’ll stop beating up all his men if he fills their coffers with cash. Richelieu responds by dispatching his deadliest femme fatale, Lady Winters, literally branded as a thief years before, to take care of their little problem. Retrieving the queen’s diamonds from the Duke of Buckingham, the musketeers race back when D’Artagnan is mortally shot by one of Winters’ assassins, pleading his brothers in arms to get the treasure back at any cost. Another musketeer, Aramis, holds back Richelieu’s men while the other two go on. The mighty Porthos is the next to stall the evil forces, but though the hulk fights ably, a call from a familiar face leads to his death. Athos speeds the diamonds back to D’Artagnan’s betrothed Lady Constance only to find the mademoiselle fatally struck down. Before Athos can flee, the callous Lady Winters corners him. Athos’ attempt to run her through with his sword is stopped by a bullet to the arm, fired from a gun held by Winters’ lover… D’Artagnan! Love for riches isn’t the only thing that binds the couple, as we see that D’Artagnan bears the brand of a thief just as well.

Entirely free of any real horrific qualities, “The Three Musketeers” (from #49), part of Black Cat Mystery’s short-lived “Silver Scream” adaptations, is recommended based on its balanced sense of rollicking adventure and romantic intrigue alone. The story ably covers a modestly epic scope in  its five pages, and the economy means that its action is never dulled for a moment. The sensei of satire Howard Nostrand is on hand to ply his artistic craft but his drawings here retain more of the classic Hollywood look and feel than his more highly cartoonish “Come Back Bathsheba” from the final issue. Frankly I could’ve stood for a whole spinoff adventure starring D’Artagnan and Lady Winters, especially since Nostrand knows how to draw the latter with just the right amount of suggestiveness to get my bells ringing.

Hel-lo, nurse!

Peter: John Greb has been trapped in a dungeon for three months, enduring torture beyond belief. His captors want information from John but the near-broken man refuses to yield. Then, one day, John's cell door is accidentally left open (or is it an accident?) and he wills himself the strength to escape. A few close calls and then he is outside, in the sun at last... only to find himself in a courtyard faced by a firing squad. His torturer once again asks for information but John remains steadfast in his silence. Back against the wall, John is told that there are six expert marksmen aiming their rifles at him but only one is loaded. If the shot misses John, he is free to go. The men fire.


Like "What was the Discovery?", "Torture" (from #47) leaves just about everything to the imagination. Who are John's captors? We have a pretty good idea since this was the mid-1950s and there's red trim on the officer's uniform but his nationality is never spelled out. Nor is the exact nature of the information John Greb is withholding. But most maddening (or satisfying, depending on your disposition) is the fact that we never learn the fate of the broken and battered John Greb. The story ends as the officer orders his men to fire and our narrator informs us, "...whether he still lives, or whether he died that morning in the cold dawn of the prison yard is not known! And you, like John Greb, must now feel the torture he felt not knowing if he was to live or die!" In fact, the very word "fire" is left unfinished, as though we go to black along with John. Manny Stallman's stark pencil work perfectly captures the helplessness Greb feels (and, at some level, yes, what the reader feels) during the roller coaster of emotions he goes through during his escape. Again, I'm reminded what tough material these comic books could produce, all the while marketed as kids' stuff.

Jose: When Amos Banteen sees local eccentric Wilkie Watts hanging out in his parlor with three decaying zombies, the yokel beats a quick path to his friend Jedediah Lash’s place one dark and stormy night. Turns out Jed had suspected Wilkie of committing foul acts ever since the evening that he saw the kook digging up the bodies at the cemetery. They resolve to go to Jesse Walker’s place. Jesse tells them his own anecdote of when he spied on Wilkie who was not only bathed in an eerie, otherworldly light but had the three cadavers with him, each corpse bowing its head reverently to Wilkie like he was their master. With all this damning evidence stacked against Wilkie, the trio heads out into the night with shotguns in hand to settle the matter in the only permanent way possible. Wilkie pleads for his life in vain: he’s gunned down by all three men before much else can be said. Unfortunately for our vigilant heroes, the “zombies” they observed under Wilkie’s power are nothing more than unanimated cadavers that Wilkie has set up on a system of pulleys and levers to keep him company during his many lonely hours.


“The King is Dead” (from #50) is not going to knock you head over heels, but sometimes simple stories that are well-told have the ability to charm and endear themselves to me more than a complex puzzleworks of a plot. Like “Lynch Mob,” this story goes for the Shock SuspenStories-type gut punch. The three neighbors have been literally blinded by their suspicion and fear; while the reader might think it ridiculous that grown adults could mistake bodies on a clothesline for zombies, it’s this very superstitious and ignorant nature of the eye witnesses that made them conform what they were seeing to what they thought they already knew. The story also acts as a nice “sequel” of sorts to “The Lonely” (see Peter’s post below), a kind of “what-if” scenario that shows us what might have happened to the cracked protagonist from that story had he been able to return to civilization and failed to readapt himself to communicating with living companions.

Peter: While fishing far out to sea, Johnny decides it's a good time to divest himself of a problem: his pal Hilton, who's joined him on the jaunt, is the only one who could finger him for embezzling ten grand from their firm. So Johnny shoves his friend into the drink and watches him drown but, very soon afterwards, a storm forces Johnny himself into the turbulent waves. The murderer washes up on a tiny isle and is soon face-to-face again with the murdered. Hilton has washed ashore as well and is resting comfortably (well, as comfortably as a corpse can rest) against a tree, little bits missing courtesy of the fish. Johnny tries to rid himself of the body but it keeps washing back, almost as if it has a life of its own. Solitude isn't all that it's cracked up to be, Johnny learns and, over time, he begins to appreciate the company of the rotting Hilton.

Though it's certainly got competition, I think "The Lonely" (from #48) is the sickest and, therefore, my favorite Harvey story thus far (certainly, it's the best of the Black Cats). The details are vague (we know they work together at some kind of business but in what capacity and why would Hilton be the only one who'd know of Johnny's theft?) but that's a bonus. We don't need background in this case, just a bit of a set-up to get us to where we need to go: the island. Part of the genius of "The Lonely" is assigning narrative duties not to the living but to the dead, a corpse who almost welcomes the loving attention of the man who shoved him overboard. "He grabbed me by the arms and dragged me ashore, and sat down next to me, talking a mile a minute, yeh -- we're real buddies now. I never knew Johnny could be such good company" muses Hilton, almost regretting he hadn't gotten to know the man while he was still alive! Johnny's slow descent into madness is unnerving and understandable. The final panel, of a beaming Johnny excitedly telling his dead friend about all the fun they're going to have, is disturbing to say the least. At least Tom Hanks had a volleyball.

"Wilson!"

Jose: Steve Gaunt is a rugged drifter who happens upon an old mill one day during his travels and is offered a job as a hired hand by a ravishing vixen named Cambria. They go to consult with Cambria’s father, who owns the mill, but the old coot is stubborn in his insistence that he doesn’t need any help. Cambria turns on him like a tigress until her father finally concedes, though Steve can’t help but marvel at the strangely pink flour that’s ground out by the rotating stones. Over a revitalizing lunch Cambria makes her attraction to Steve immediately and forcefully known and soon the two are in each other’s hands like warm putty. The lovers plan on marrying, but Cambria’s old man won’t relinquish the mill to Steve even if he makes an honest woman out of his daughter. Cambria has other means of persuasion, namely killing pops herself. Steve warily goes along with the plan. He busies himself with the grave while Cambria does the deed and afterward they haul the coffin she’s stuffed her father in into the pit. From there they have a late night marriage, but in the days following Steve quickly grows sick of Cambria’s relentless sexual appetites and constant affection. (Must be rough!– Ed.) He confesses that he has no real feelings for her and plans on hightailing it with as much money and jewelry as he can steal, but finds instead the clothes and artifacts of a dozen other men in the closet. Steve puts the pieces together just in time to be led by Cambria and the actually-alive father by gunpoint into the mill. Steve finds out as he awaits his imminent death by the grindstones that the old man is actually Cambria’s first husband, forever enslaved to her power and desire to continue her man-eating ways. The pink Steve flour is just being rolled out as Cambria introduces another drifter to her “father.”

Though it has some plot convolutions that would make any episode of GENERAL HOSPITAL proud, “The Old Mill Scream” (from #51) is worth mentioning solely for Bob Powell’s sizzling art alone. Powell had some of the most distinct and recognizable characterizations in the whole Harvey lot; though they were clearly caricatures, his characters were probably the closest that ever came to feeling “real.” He shows particular craftsmanship in his designing of human anatomy, accentuating all the luscious curves and hard sinews of the body so that whenever he has them commingling on the panel it has the power to generate some real sparks. The reader can practically feel the heat coming off the page every time Cambria makes one of her advances, and though the general arc of the story may be old-hat, the twisted finale to this cruel yarn feels just as spicy as the romance.

You could fry an egg on that thing!

Peter: Though it's loaded with "Notable Quotables" ("Those warm, cloying lips, even in the ice-cold water of the ocean, burned into his with a ferocity beyond compare! Frank Kenton knew a rapture of overpowering satisfaction -- but also a sense of impending horror!"), "The Kiss of Doom" is also overburdened with a maniacal silliness and plot turns that dead end. The story itself is so wildly complicated that I'm going to break with form this one time and present it fully for the "enjoyment" of our readers. Pay close attention to the half-transformed shape shifters and a rare "Arrrghhh...!" on page two (rather than our old fave, "Agggraaaa...!"). Abandon all sense, ye who travel down this alleyway:








Jose: Unlike Peter, I have no sadistic desire to subject our readers to the sludge that we occasionally have to tread through during our pulpy adventures. My nominee for the "Stinking Zombie Award" this time around has a misleadingly harmless appearance. It's like a chocolate eclair that looks appetizing on the outside until you bite into it and realize the cream filling has gone sour. It's true that "Paranoia" (from #49) starts out promisingly with a play on L. P. Hartley's short story "W. S." with our protagonist receiving threatening messages from a complete stranger who is travelling across the country and getting closer all the time.

The reader may suffer a slight case of cross-eye after making it through "Paranoia."

With his apprehension growing steadily toward boiling point, our hero begins to suspect first his business partner and then his wife of sending him the letters in order to drive him batty. So what's a fellow to do except pin it on them and throttle them to death? Bob Powell can hardly do any wrong with his art, but the script (which was likely his creation as well) is wordy and overstuffs the panels with blocks of monotonous writing. The ending is the real clincher: not only do we find out that the murderous "hero" was sending the letters to himself the whole time (really?), but this is revealed to the reader by an asylum doctor admonishing his staff for giving the patient a mirror wherein he saw the face of the "real" Azrael Mord, glass being a material that generally shouldn't be put in the hands of manic-depressants with persecution complexes. The twist starts making less sense the more one thinks of it; it'd be one thing if the guy was sending himself letters, but why would he do it in such a gradual way to scare himself out of his mind? If he had just written down a return address this whole thing could've been avoided.


NOTABLE QUOTABLES

“The rain was now coming down hard enough to drive nails through the ground.”
- “Doomsday”

“The witch doctor raises his arms to utter fierce and terrible words that fall upon the air like flies upon a bloated corpse!!...”
- “Demons of the Sun”

“We wish to sup on the nervous energy of your terrified brain…”
- “The Room of Mystery”

OMG

“Sweat poured off him in stinking rivulets of desperate greed…”
- “Beast of Doom”

“Oh, my God! Your [sic] a vampire! Stay away!!!”
- “Beast of Doom”

"Native legends speak about the monster who waits out there in these very waters for the right to exchange bodies with it!"
- "Kiss of Doom!"

"Deeper and deeper the slimy tentacles pulled and dragged him... ever downward until he almost gagged with oncoming death!"
- "Kiss of Doom!"

"I had been working on my new theory of molecular interaction when I got temporarily stumped on a problem..."
- "The Room of Mystery"

"As Carlisle leaves, he finds the door opens on a strange flight of stairs... stairs that sweat slime, that ooze decayed bilge..."
- "Path to Death!"

Big Bird's brain-eating cousin

"Starting from the tortured entrails of black, ugly penitence, it coils through the vacuous depths of man's soul..."
- "Path to Death!"

"Walter Bolso was a good man, a respected man! He was happy as the town blacksmith -- and he loved his work! His huge muscles would bulge and ripple in the red flames of his molten furnace..."
- "Next Attraction: Death!"

"Come on! We needn't gape at such puny weaklings! I can make your mouths open in my smithy!"
- "Next Attraction: Death!"

"You are as stupid as those fools who practised witchcraft a thousand years ago! It is not her soul I ate... but her mind! A pleasant delicacy indeed... but you could never understand with your feeble three-dimensional brain!"
- "The Visitor"

“Then suddenly, a cold rancid wisp of death appears…”
- “Black Knight”

“Then she saw you, Jed! Saw you staring at her as if she were a prehistoric animal!”
- “Lynch Mob”

“This ain’t sport—it’s moider!”

“But the man had a quick tongue, and he knew how to weave dreams out of words…”
 - “Knockout!”

“You may be able to help a guy pay a bill! The fact is—you’re probably perfect!”
- “I. O. U. One Body”

“Oh, Alma—Alma—don’t let the curse of his blonde hair destroy our love!”
- “The Blonde Man”

Best first line of dialogue ever? We think so!

Arthur: "Get out of bed, you bloated, useless slug!"
Hortense: "What for, you dilapidated sore-spot! Can't you see I'm busy?"
Arthur: "Yeh... busy! Busy lolling in bed all day... and eating candy... and reading those filthy novels and making yakata yakata yakata with your empty-headed friends over the phone!"
- "Regent 3-"

"I had a swell day, Annabelle! Old man Williams had trouble with silverfish..."
- "Pest Control"

“Wha—t?”
- “Paranoia”

“Wilkie was draggin’ a body, gnawed ta filth by time…”
- “The King is Dead”

“He’s got a heart of gold and a left hook that would ram an elephant’s tusks into its hindquarters!”
- “Punch and Rudy”

Story of the Month

Peter: Though I've never been able to see the allure of "Colorama," (from #45) it's the most respected Harvey horror story of all time, having been reprinted several times and discussed at length in print and online, and so I bow to the experts on this one. It's certainly gorgeous to look at and I can appreciate that it's more outré than the usual Harvey fare. There seems to be some question as to who actually authored the story; GCD and several other sources (mostly online) credit penciler Bob Powell with authoring, while John Benson (in Sadowski's Four Color Fear) notes that newly appointed Harvey editor Sid Jacobson claims it's all his. To me, it matters not who wrote the script, as this is a feast for the eyes.






Jose: My selections for "Story of the Month" have tended to run on the silly and wacky side (barring the downer of "Monumental Feat") and this post is no different. Towards the end of Black Cat Mystery's run, there were at least three or four uproarious stories that took the "disgruntled spouse" conceit done to death in so many other horror/mystery comic books and just turned the vitriol up to eleven. In tales like the hysterical "Regent 3" (quoted above), the husband and wife are so close to strangling each other right from the start that the reader is uncertain whether their union will even make it to the next page. "Pest Control" (from #48) has this same highly amusing shtick and some wonderful character drawings done by Jack Sparling, including one great panel that represents our henpecked hero's plight in a wonderfully symbolic manner. The ending makes for a nice, droll punchline.








The Comics
Black Cat Mystery #40-52

#40 (October 1952)
Cover by Rudy Palais

“Curse Castle”
Art by Bob Powell

“Doomsday”
Art by Abe Simon

“Don’t Share My Coffin”
Art by Moe Marcus and Rocco Mastroserio

“Demons of the Sun”
Art by Rudy Palais








#41 (December 1952)
Cover Uncredited

“The Room of Mystery”
Art by Bob Powell

“Beast of Doom”
Art by Don Perlin and Abe Simon

“Path to Death”
Art by Moe Marcus and Rocco Mastroserio

“Live Man’s Funeral”
Art by Al Eadeh







#42 (February 1953)
Cover Uncredited

“Kiss of Doom”
Art by Joe Certa

“Next Attraction: Death”
Art by Moe Marcus and Rocco Mastroserio

“The Visitor”
Art by Don Perlin and Abe Simon

“Mask of the Murderer”
Art by Al Eadeh






#43 (April 1953)
Cover by Lee Elias

“My Husband, the Cat”
Art by Bob Powell and Howard Nostrand

“Devil Drums”
Art by Warren Kremer

“Black Knight”
Art by Moe Marcus and Rocco Mastroserio

“Eternity”
Art Uncredited







#44 (June 1953)
Cover by Lee Elias

“Excursion”
Art by Bob Powell and Howard Nostrand

“Oil”
Art by Jack Sparling

“Destiny”
Art by Joe Certa

“Search for Evil”
Art by Howard Nostrand







#45 (August 1953)
Cover by Howard Nostrand

“Colorama!”
Art by Bob Powell and Howard Nostrand

“Lynch Mob”
Art by Howard Nostrand

“Knockout”
Art by Joe Certa

“I. O. U. One Body”
Art Uncredited








#46 (October 1953)
Cover by Lee Elias

“What Was the Discovery?”
Art by Manny Stallman and John Giunta

“The Blonde Man”
Art by Howard Nostrand

“Disc Jockey”
Art by Bob Powell

“Insomnia”
Art Uncredited








#47 (December 1953)
Cover by Lee Elias

“Supreme Penalty”
Art by Bob Powell

“Low Noon”
Art by Howard Nostrand

“Torture”
Art by Manny Stallman

“Regent 3-”
Art  by Joe Certa








#48 (February 1954)
Cover by Lee Elias

“The Lonely”
Art by Howard Nostrand

“Les Miserables”
Art by Manny Stallman

“Pest Control”
Art by Jack Sparling

“River of Blood”
Art by Bob Powell and Howard Nostrand








#49 (April 1954)
Cover by Lee Elias

“Clean as a Whistle”
Art by John Giunta

“The Three Musketeers”
Art by Howard Nostrand

“Paranoia”
Art by Bob Powell

“A Promise Kept”
Art by Joe Certa








#50 (June 1954)
Cover by Lee Elias

“The King is Dead”
Art by Manny Stallman and John Giunta

“Moe Gambo”
Art by Bob Powell and Howard Nostrand

“White Heat”
Art by Joe Certa and John Belfi

“Here Today…”
Art by Sid Check








#51 (August 1954)
Cover by Lee Elias

“The Old Mill Scream”
Art by Bob Powell

“Come Back Bathsheba”
Art by Howard Nostrand

“Punch and Rudy”
Art by Mort Meskin

“Switcheroo”
Art by Joe Certa








#52 (October 1954)
Cover Uncredited 

A complete reprinting of Black Cat Mystery #34

















#53 (December 1954)
Cover by Al Avison

A complete reprinting of Black Cat Mystery #35

In four weeks, we continue our examination of  Harvey Horror with Tomb of Terror!

Nick Cardy

Unexpected 159

"A Cry in the Night"
Story by Sam Meade
Art by Jess Jodloman

"Shocker"
Story and Art by Jerry Grandenetti

"The Creature That Never Existed!"
Story Uncredited
Art by Lee Elias
(Originally appeared in Tales of the Unexpected #89, July 1965)

"The Tell Tale Hand!"
Story Uncredited
Art by Curt Swan and George Klein
(Originally appeared in House of Mystery #6, September 1952)

"I Was Blackmailed by a Phantom"
Story Uncredited
Art by Howard Sherman
(Originally appeared in My Greatest Adventure #67, May 1962)

"Frozen in Fear"
Story by George Kashdan
Art by Fred Carrillo

"The Swami of Broadway"
Story Uncredited
Art by Bill Ely
(Originally appeared in House of Secrets #14, November 1958)

"The Rainbow Man"
Story Uncredited
Art by George Roussos
(Originally appeared in Tales of the Unexpected #15, July 1957)

"The Night I Watched Myself Die!"
Story by Carl Wessler
Art by Bob Brown
(Originally appeared in Unexpected #105, March 1968)

"The Demon Gun!"
Story Uncredited
Art by Jim Mooney
(Originally appeared in House of Mystery #30, September 1954)

"The Strange Experiment of Dr. Grimm!"
Story Uncredited
Art by Howard Purcell and Sheldon Moldoff
(Originally appeared in House of Mystery #2, March 1952)

"Who's That Lying in My Coffin?"
Story by Carl Wessler
Art by Alex Nino

Don't worry-- it's a hoax!

Jack: Macho man Horst brings back a rare catch from the Black Forest to present to the Baron, the man he hopes will soon be his father-in-law--a savage, wild boy in a crate! The Baron is impressed but his daughter is not. Poor Horst wants to marry her but she loves Walter, the stable boy. Walter wisely locks the young savage in with other beasts but the Baron wants to civilize him and decides to take him on a boar hunt (an odd way to start the civilizing process). When the Baron does not come home and is found dead in the forest, the wild boy is suspected of the murder. But wait! The wild boy is not so wild after all! Horst paid him to fake it and tries to betray and kill him. Unfortunately for Horst, the wild boy gets the upper hand and kills Horst instead. Walter and his girlfriend later find the wild boy trapped in a camouflaged pit that had been set to catch wild animals. The wild boy now reveals he can speak English quite well but Walter tells him he can explain it all to the police. "A Cry in the Night" is a poor start to this issue of Unexpected, with unfocused art by Jodloman and a script by Sam Meade that makes little sense.

Peter: The climax of "A Cry in the Night" was Unexpected, to say the least. In fact, I thumbed through  #159 several times (yep, I have a real honest to gosh paper version of this one) to try to find the last page of the story, which is clearly missing from my copy. Perhaps Underdeveloped would be a better title for this comic book?

Jack: Jim Laskey knows that the state of California has abolished the death penalty, so he doesn't feel too bad about shooting a San Francisco cop as he runs away from a movie theater he's just robbed. He climbs onto a cable car to rest for the night, only to find it take off of its own accord. On the car with him are the cop he killed and a judge and jury, who try him for his crime. He gets a "Shocker" of an experience when he sits in the driver's chair and is electrocuted in a freak accident. When the police find him dead the next morning, they hear on the radio that Governor Reagan just reinstated the death penalty. I guess that means that Laskey's death was poetic justice?

The ghost of Barney Fife

Peter: Laskey's primary motive for his crime spree seems to be the repeal of the death penalty, as though life in prison is no dissuader. Seems like a good reason to rob and kill. Jerry Grandenetti proves he's just as good a writer as artist.

Jack: Old Pietro, the graveyard watchman, leaves his ghostly pals to return to his shack on a damp, cold evening, only to find two criminals holed up there. When the crooks threaten to kill him, they are "Frozen in Fear" and scared to death by Pietro's ghost pals. Three pages and not much to this one.

Saved by his ghostly pals!

Peter: A silly little nothing that avoids being a waste of paper thanks to some decent Fred Carrillo work.

Jack: Herb Mowery and his wife Addie share a recurring dream that Herb is dead and lying in his coffin. When a shrink tells him that this means he will die, he splurges on a fancy coffin. He is kidnapped by criminals and told to turn over his bankbook, but he refuses. They kill his wife to get the money and Herb asks, "Who's That Lying in My Coffin?" Terrible story but great art by Nino, the best in this issue.

Another Nino freakout!

Peter: So the killers took the time to lay Addie out in her coffin? Well, that was mighty nice of them. As usual, Alex Nino makes turning the pages a glorious exercise but do try to avoid the words.

Now THAT was UNEXPECTED!

Jack: Lots of reprints this time around and it seems we've just about reached the bottom of the barrel. I liked "The Tell Tale Hand!" in which a killer is convinced by a gypsy that his crime will be revealed by a noose that appears in the lines on his palm. As usual, it turns out to be an elaborate setup by the resourceful police. "The Strange Experiment of Dr. Grimm!" is a nutty story where the sheer number of words nearly crowds out the pictures as a scientist becomes the mind slave of a brain in a glass case. A well-placed lightning bolt (through an open window, no less!) breaks the spell. Fun stuff.

Peter: A real mixed bag of reprints this time out with only one story stepping out from the rest of the pack. "The Creature That Never Existed" is a giant monster tale that reeks of innocent times. This one could have been torn from the pages of the competitor's Kirby/Ditko-laden anthologies and is noteworthy for its lack of an exposition that explains away the paranormal presence (like the one found in "The Tell-Tale Hand" wherein a strangler is betrayed by the etched image of a noose in his palm, a graphic planted there by an enterprising young cop to guilt the murderer into confessing!). It amazes me that DC was publishing kid stuff like "The Strange Experiment of Dr. Grimm" and the aforementioned "Tell Tale Hand" at the same time EC was reveling in cannibalism, murderous lawmen, and baseball players that use body parts for their equipment. Was DC the lone holdout in the marathon of bad taste?

Luis Dominguez

The House of Secrets 124

"Last of the Frankensteins"
Story by Jack Oleck
Art by Ernie Chua

"Never Rouse a Vampire!"
Story by George Kashdan
Art by J. Albister

"Make Believe"
Story by Jack Oleck
Art by Ruben Yandoc

Peter: Edmund is "The Last of the Frankensteins" and he aims to clear the family name by creating life and proving his father was not insane. Edmund's wife, Emily, does not approve but goes along with her husband's eccentricities at first. When faced with proof that Edmund is really going through with the crazy experiments (she stumbles upon the jigsaw creature he has created), she goes to the local burgermeister and rats out her man. A mob of angry villagers lights up the torches and heads up the hill to Castle Frankenstein, cornering the young scientist until he falls from the castle's rooftop. The mob burns down the castle and heads back to the pub. Emily and the police chief come across the broken body of Edmund and realize that Father Frankenstein had been dipping his toes into all sorts of experiments: son Edmund is a robot.

"Last of the Frankensteins"

You always have to hoot at a story where a married protagonist is discovered to have been an android/robot/synthetic man the entire time. What does that say about wife Emily and her powers of observation and, um, touch? Oleck seems to have had a problem deciding what time period this story takes place. Edmund, with his contemporary auto and clothes, is clearly a 1970s man so why does his pop look like he's living in the 19th Century? Ernie Chan's art is serviceable here, nothing more, looking a bit rushed and indistinct.

Jack: Arrgh! So that's where this was going? Frankenstein is a robot? I was so sure Jack Oleck had something up his sleeve after he retold the whole Son of Frankenstein bit and then it turns out he's a robot! Boo! As for Emily, I guess if you marry a guy named Frankenstein you have to expect some family baggage. There's one panel where a well-placed word balloon blocks what would have been a code-violating view of her naked backside through her sheer nightie.

Peter: Regular carnival geeks don't attract crowds anymore, it seems, so Cal Bronson has to think up craftier tricks for his run-down sideshow. With the help of his squeeze, Evelyn, Cal talks the custodian, Amos, into filing down his teeth and acting out the vampire part for the new attraction. Evelyn baits Amos with her charms and the show is a massive success but Amos soon figures out there's someone else sharing Evelyn with him and the act goes south. Turns out Amos was a blood-sucker the whole time and you should "Never Rouse a Vampire!" Here's one that has a decent build-up and climaxes with a massive cliche. So, a vampire is going to allow someone to file down his already sharp teeth? Albister's art is hit and miss, but Amos makes for a pretty pathetic vampire.

"Never Rouse a Vampire!"

Jack: I enjoyed this one, probably because of the seedy carnival setting. There are some nice silhouette panels where the vampire's shadow looks like the blood-sucker from Nosferatu. I love the pitch to the simpleton: "All we have to do is file your teeth, put a little hair on your arms--" In other words, no big deal! They also appear to have painted him yellow, from the looks of things.

Peter: Sickly young Bobby Nolan has moved, with his father and his nurse, to a small Greek island called Xanthos. Bobby becomes immersed in local mythology and believes a centaur named Deimos and other legendary creatures have come to him to cheer up his life. His father wants Bobby to grow up and recognize that there is no room for fairy tales in real life. When Bobby continues his fanciful talk, his father hires a psychiatrist, who tells the man that Bobby is slipping dangerously into a fantasy world and that they should leave Greece immediately. When the boy is told the news, he visits Deimos and the centaur talks Bobby into leaving with him. The half-man half-horse then gallops off a cliff into the sea, Bobby astride his back. After days of searching, the police are convinced the boy fell into the sea and drowned. Standing on his terrace one day, Bobby's father is convinced he sees his son atop the opposite cliff with Deimos. Whereas the obvious comparison, Jack Oleck's classic "Nightmare" (from HoM #186), was sincere and heartbreaking, its variation, "Make Believe," is ham-fisted and maudlin. The only comparison that could be made between the two is that both contain great artwork. The message here (everybody has to have a dream) is hammered into our craniums panel after panel.

Jack: The other comparison I would make is to "The Inheritors" on The Outer Limits, where disabled kids go into a spaceship and are able to live without their handicaps (if I remember it right). Did you see a gay subtext in this story? It takes place in Greece, the boy meets ancient Greek creatures, and he likes to sneak out at night and hop on the back of a half-naked male stranger. I wonder if Jack Oleck slipped one by the Code here.

Nick Cardy

The Witching Hour 47

"Who Must I Kill Tonight?"
Story by George Kashdan
Art by Ruben Yandoc

"The Day Happy Died!"
Story by Carl Wessler
Art by John Calnan

"Haunted Any Houses Lately?"
Story by George Kashdan
Art by Alex Nino

Jack: John Durmond has a problem. By day, he's a happy family man, but by night, he's a cold-blooded killer who takes orders from the mysterious Mr. Zeeman. He can't recall what he does at night and his wife is starting to wonder. When the answer to "Who Must I Kill Tonight?" is his own wife, his mind snaps and it turns out that Mr. Zeeman is actually John in a mirror. He smashes the mirror and a shard of glass lands him in the hospital, where the doctor announces that John has a split personality. The worst thing about this story is that Ruben Yandoc (who often signs his work as "Rubeny") draws the ugliest Cynthia I've ever seen. And Cynthia is sometimes the best thing in The Witching Hour.

Yes, that's supposed to be Cynthia

Peter: This one gave me a migraine. If "sane John" didn't know what was going on when he turned into Mr. Hyde, how did he know where to drive to before he would transform? How did the doctor know about John's underworld contacts? The Mrs. fell out of a second story window, head first mind you, and walked away with nary a scratch thanks to the bush she fell in? Another hopelessly dumb story from George Trashcan.

Yay! I'm dead!

Jack: Young Rusty Boland has been distraught ever since "The Day Happy Died!" Happy was his dog, you see, and Rusty's family home burned down. Rusty thinks he sees Happy in the yard but soon learns that Happy did not die--Rusty did! Soon enough, the dog lies down on Rusty's grave and expires from grief. What a cheery three pages that was! And so well drawn by John Calnan!

Peter: And... another confusing wrap-up. So did little Rusty escape his father's arms and run back into the fire to rescue a dog that wasn't in the house in the first place? Why is the kid dead and the dog alive? John Calnan continues to set new bars for awful art. I did love Rusty's exclamation: "Let me go, Pa--Please I gotta get happy!"

Jack: Paul and Edna Walsh have moved into the old family castle Edna inherited from her grandfather, but they are having trouble making ends meet. Along comes their pal Harry Philbin, a/k/a The Great Philbin, Master of Illusion, who asks "Haunted Any Houses Lately?" Harry has a plan to don a skeleton costume and pretend to haunt the house for ticket-buying tourists. His first performance is a success but they soon find him dead of suffocation. Edna finds a letter that Paul wrote to Harry about how to murder Edna and blame it on the supposed ghost. Paul starts to go after Edna to finish the job but is stopped by the real ghost of her ancestor, who causes Paul to suffocate, fall off a high wall, and become impaled on the lance of a statue below. That night, Edna and the ghost discuss how he tipped her off to Paul's murder plot and they were able to turn the tables. The story has too many surprise twists but, once again, Nino's art is lovely.

Whoops!

Peter: That makes it three for three in this issue for needlessly confusing twists. There are about three too many reveals in "Haunted Any Houses Lately" but my favorite bit of dopiness is the letter Paul wrote to Harry detailing their plan to murder Edna. That's something you'd leave lying around the castle, right? The DC mystery bullpen went back to the "inherited money and a big old castle" well a few too many times in the mid-1970s.

Nick Cardy

Ghosts 31

"The Spectral Coffin-Maker"
Story Uncredited
Art by Gerry Talaoc

"Blood on the Moon"
Story by Carl Wessler
Art by Bill Payne

"The Specter of the Dark Devourer"
Story Uncredited
Art by ER Cruz

Jack: Every time "The Spectral Coffin-Maker" comes to town, people are afraid because someone always dies. Little Anton is not fearful, though, and his kindness to the old traveling salesman is repaid later on when the coffin-maker warns him away from a city where a tragic earthquake occurs. Gerry Talaoc's art makes this readable, even though we all know that Anton will be saved from some sort of tragedy long before it happens.

"The Spectral Coffin-Maker"

Peter: I'd lay a fiver down that Leo Dorfman is responsible for this one. It comes off as one of those Ripley's stories Leo has been pumping out for Ghosts since day one. Imagine how much more "Believe It or Not" hogwash Leo could have turned in to Boltinoff with Google at his fingertips.

Jack: Al, Charlie and Bart are poaching alligators (or is it crocodiles?) in the Florida Everglades when a game warden surprises them and they kill him. They see blood on the moon and recognize it as a bad omen. A month later, Al goes back out to the scene of the crime to do some fishing. There is blood on the moon again and the ghost of the dead game warden rises from the muck and mire to scare Al into some quicksand, where he meets his end. Next month, Charlie sees blood on the moon and the ghost rises again, causing him to crash his car in a canal where hungry alligators await. Finally, Bart goes out one evening for a swim, sees blood on the moon, up pops the specter, and next thing you know Bart chokes to death. "Blood on the Moon" would not be such a hot story were it not for the welcome return of Bill Payne, whose art is tremendous. He has no respect for panel boundaries or conventional structure and some of his figures remind me of those of Graham Ingels.

A whole page of Payne!

Peter: Though it sputters and runs out of gas a couple pages prior to its climax, "Blood on the Moon" is an effective and atmospheric chiller. Those are two adjectives I don't use too often when describing Ghosts stories. Most of that atmosphere, admittedly, is due to Bill Payne's stark, noirish artwork but, I gotta give Carl Wessler a bit of the credit as well. It's a gritty little tale, the likes of which are usually found in the pages of the gold standard of DC horror, The House of Mystery.

Jack: Evil strip miners in West Virginia tussle with the wrong bunch of hicks when they dig a hole near the Stope farm. Poor, retarded Dulcie ventures too near the pit and her beloved doll falls victim to a landslide. She uses some incantations her granny taught her and conjures up "The Specter of the Dark Devourer," which is really dark and devours the strip miners. Cruz's art would be the highlight of this issue were it not for the home run hit by Bill Payne in the prior story!

Dark Devourer? Or great big pink pussycat?

Peter: Two really good stories (with great art) in one issue of Ghosts? Could this be the beginning of a renaissance era? Don't bet on it, but enjoy the quality while you can. "Dark Devourer" is much too dark and nasty to have come from Leo; my guess would be one of the young guns like Len Wein.

In our next historically-accurate issue! On Sale May 18th!

by Jack Seabrook

"The Landlady"

The Landlady

The sixth and final Roald Dahl story to be adapted for Alfred Hitchcock Presents was "The Landlady," which aired on February 21, 1961. Since Robert Bloch wrote the teleplay, this episode is discussed here, as part of the "Robert Bloch on TV" series.

Overview

The Roald Dahl episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents represent a special group.

"Lamb to the Slaughter," the first, was adapted for television by Dahl himself and directed by Hitchcock. It features a fine performance by Barbara Bel Geddes and its mix of murder and humor have made it one of the most well known episodes of the entire series.

"Dip in the Pool" came next, also directed by Hitchcock and starring Keenan Wynn in a story that features more humor but no murder, just an accidental suicide.

"Poison"

In "Poison," the third Dahl adaptation to be directed by Hitchcock, the story is one of extreme suspense in a confined space, where the televised version features a significant change in focus from the original story.

Best of the lot is "Man From the South," one of the finest examples of suspense ever produced for television. It has been remade, imitated and parodied, but it has never been equaled. Steve McQueen and Peter Lorre turn in superb performances and the direction by Norman Lloyd ratchets up the tension until the surprising climax.

Hitchcock returned to direct "Mrs. Bixby and the Colonel's Coat," which tells a tale of humor, revenge and deception while painting an unflattering portrait of a marriage. There are no standouts but cast and crew work together to produce solid entertainment.

"Dip in the Pool"

Finally, Paul Henreid directed "The Landlady" from a teleplay by Robert Bloch. Dean Stockwell and Patricia Collinge are well cast in a dreamlike episode with an unforgettable ending.

The fact that Hitchcock himself chose to direct four of the six Dahl episodes shows that they were considered special, and Dahl's short stories were a perfect fit for the sensibilities of Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

Here is an episode guide to theRoald Dahl episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, with links that lead back to the posts discussing each episode.

ROALD DAHL ON ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS EPISODE GUIDE

This post is part of the My Favorite Classic Movie Blogathon in celebration of National Classic Movie Day (May 16th). Click here to view the schedule listing all the great posts in this blogathon.

As part of the blogathon, we all decided to sit down and watch one of the most treasured cinematic chestnuts, the story of one's man limitless love for his wife and all the bastards he has to kill to prove it...

THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971)

Synopsis: Eminent surgeons are being systematically murdered in bizarre fashion during England's Roaring Twenties, and Inspector Pike, er, Trout, is on the case. The policeman gradually discovers that the victims--the first stung to death by bees (unseen), the second ravaged by vampire bats, and the third's head crushed by a frog mask at a costume ball--were at one point all part of a surgical team led by Dr. Vesalius.

The one case they undertook together (along with four other physicians and a nurse) was that of Victoria Phibes, wife of theology and music expert Dr. Anton Phibes. Victoria died on the operating table and Anton himself was immolated in a tragic car accident and died on the way to the hospital. 

Or did he?

With time running short, Inspector Trout and Dr. Vesalius must outwit their nemesis as the grim-faced madman continues to use the Biblical Ten Plagues of Egypt as the modus operandi of his crimes. And with such lovely and novel forms of execution at his disposal as locusts, hail, and blood draining, and a gorgeous assistant at his side, Phibes is determined to beat the tenacious efforts of the Law and have the last laugh.


Jose: If only all horror films had an opening as great as THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES. Right from those reverent strummings on the pipe organ, the entire credit sequence just feels right. It's a testament to just how much a director can wring from a wordless prologue, using only music and imagery to convey the atmosphere and emotional truth of the overall production. Too bad it's mostly a forgotten practice these days, but director Robert Fuest (AND SOON THE DARKNESS) shows how completely in control he is in this moment. All I need to do is think back to Phibes's grand flourishes in his dark cloak, the neon red of the organ rising from the ground like a rock from Hell into his art deco heaven, bare trees peopled with stuffed owls and a stage of robotic jazz players waiting for their winding cue, and I am at peace. It's the type of opening that has nothing but promise for lovers of horror and strange beauty.

Murder by bats

Peter: You're on the money as usual, my young compadre. There is no film quite like PHIBES. Rather than a delicate composition of great music, incredible sets, and canny casting choices, PHIBES feels wonderfully thrown together. I love how we're dropped right into the lap of the narrative, almost as though the director has whispered in our ears, "You're late... and you missed the first twenty minutes... there's not much time to recap." We're not even shown the first murder, only told in passing that a victim of bee stings may have something to do with the current case. There are so many questions I have! Who the heck is Vulnavia? She's hot, yes, we know that, but why is she hanging out with a dead guy? Is she dead, too? A groupie? What about that party where head-shrinker Hargreaves gets his head shrunken (nice irony that, no?) in a frog mask vice? Who are these people and how did Phibes get invited? For that matter, how does Anton always know where his victims will be? I want to know the answers to these questions -- I've wanted to know for over forty years -- but make no mistake: it doesn't matter! Legend has it that PHIBES was on his TV the day Keith Moon swallowed way too many pills. How appropriate is it that a loon would go out watching a nutty flick like this?

Murder by frog

John: The fact that there's no dialog until after the first murder has been committed is pretty amazing, and yet watching it you hardly notice because the setup is so engaging. It moves briskly from one set piece to the next; right up to the nail-biting climax.

Murder by exsanguination (blood)

Jack: I presume that's Vincent Price hamming it up at the organ in the opening sequence, though we never see his face. It's so funny that his hand movements and flourishes seem to have no connection to the organ music being played; at one point, he throws both hands up in the air while the music keeps going! All of the elements that make this film great remind me of The Avengers, where Fuest had directed a number of episodes in the late '60s.

Murder by hail

Jose: In addition to a mastery of the technical elements, the film also boasts a great, fun script by James Whiton and William Goldstein. It's particularly impressive when you account for the fact that this was both writers' very first big screen effort, but it has the flow and feel of veteran scribes in their prime. The script combines two of my favorite narrative touches--creepy suspense and wry comedy--in a manner that other films I love (CREEPSHOW, FRIGHT NIGHT) would demonstrate in later years. The laughs in this film are of the typically dry, British flavor, naturally, and they tickle me no matter how many times I've seen them. From the low-key (Trout asking where one of his men are and the policeman responding matter-of-factly from atop a bureau, "Up here, sir") to the patently slapstick (the unscrewing of Dr. Whitcombe's body from the unicorn's horn), it's all delivered with just the right air to ensure that all of the funny bits never jar you from the rest of the film but rather feel apiece with the whole production. The look Price gives the racy painting in Terry-Thomas's library kills me every time.

Murder by rats

John: Jose nailed it. I think one of the reasons I loved the film growing up was that Phibes was a sympathetic character. How could one blame him for wanting revenge after losing his lovely young wife (more on the enchanting-even-as-a-corpse Caroline Munro later)? And despite being packed wall-to-wall with murders, the humorous bits with the bumbling inspectors of Scotland Yard (save our relentless Trout, who never falters) make those sequences out to be more camp than anything else. Which contributes to the final climax being so effective—by the time we get to Vesalius's struggle to save his son, it's clear this is no longer a joke.

Murder by unicorn (?)

Jack: I think we would all agree that we would be willing to murder any doctor who harmed Caroline Munro!

Victoria Phibes in happier days

Peter: I saw PHIBES in the Spring of '71 at the Capitol Drive-In in San Jose (on a double-bill, if I'm not mistaken, with the fabulously sleazy The Incredible Two-Headed Transplant) and, even at the ripe old age of 9, knew it was something special. I was a Cushing and Lee fan, through and through, but Vincent Price always kept my attention even when he popped up in "talky and boring" (that's the nine year old speaking) flicks like Scream and Scream Again, Cry of the Banshee and Conqueror Worm (the latter of which put me to sleep). It was PHIBES, though, that transformed me into a Price follower and, from that point on, I would venture out to the cinema and take in anything he made.

Dr. Phibes and Vulnavia

John: Watching it again, I began to wonder if Price gave a better performance in his career. To this day, I'm convinced that Phibes can't move his mouth. Rather than just relying on a recorded voiceover, he 'speaks' all of his lines while keeping his lips still, providing a creepy, yet completely believable, performance.

Sorting the Brussels sprouts

Jose: The "vengeful doctor" tale was far from fresh by the time Fuest lensed this film, having been a staple of everything from the pulp magazines and comic books to motion pictures decades prior--the setting of the story in the Twenties could then perhaps be considered a canny move by Whiton and Goldstein--but Dr. Phibes is such a delicious amalgam of madman conventions and confections that one can't help but resist his sinister aura. With a prosthetic death-mask that's not quite as mobile as Lionel Atwill's in MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM (1933) and a killer fashion sense, Phibes shows that not only does he have all the requisite know-how of villainy (he puts a chauffeur into submission with a sleeper hold), but has enough class and taste to fill a sparkling ballroom.

Murder by locusts

Jack: Speaking of killer fashion sense, can anyone make sense of Vulnavia? When I watched this film recently, for the first time in many years, I kept thinking that she'd be revealed to be either Phibes's wife or his girlfriend. Turns out I was mixing it up in my head with THEATRE OF BLOOD and Vulnavia goes through the entire film as a cipher. Why would this beautiful young woman be so devoted to Phibes? Who is she? She really doesn't deserve the acid in her face that she receives at the end. I don't think she ever says a word, and the romantic wine and waltz scene she shares with the bad doctor makes one think he has more on his mind than his dead wife.

Speaking through the side of his neck

John: I think the art direction and set design are worth mentioning as well. All these years later, the strange art deco designs, from Phibes house with the bizarre clockwork Wizards orchestra, the wax head lamps of his intended victims (visible in the background in an early opening shot), his car having his profile on the drawn shades, to Vulnavia's elaborate costumes, all contribute to the film's timeless feel. And kudos for the grand production values that allowed for real (and particularly creepy) live bats (save one shot of a bat on a string that's all the more obvious on Blu Ray) and so many other inventive ways of delivering the curses upon his victims. My personal favorite has to be the locusts. I love how Price inspects and casually tosses aside some Brussels sprouts while mixing his concoction, how he lays out a full scale (nude) drawing of the nurse's body so he can figure out—exactly—where to drill a hole in the ceiling right over her head and, best of all, after dripping the green syrup and live locusts on her, the discovery of her skeletal body (but with hair!) covered in locusts. Have I mentioned how much I love this film?

Peter:PHIBES has a Phabulous soundtrack but, oddly enough, the album released by American-International Records (AIR) shorty after the film's release has several pieces not found in the film. Famed impersonator (and voice of Boris Badenov) Paul Frees was brought in to sing on several cuts, aping such legends as Humphrey Bogart, Al Jolson and W.C. Fields. I have no idea why but, as a monster-obsessed nine year-old, I managed to talk my mom into dropping four big ones on this album at Gemco. I'd never had a soundtrack before and my musical tastes ran closer to The Partridge Family (a fondness which, I must confess, lasts to this day) so it may have been the incredible poster artwork that graced the sleeve. In any event, I took that record home and played the hell out of it. I've still got it (as evidenced by the honest-to-gosh real photo taken in my study recently) and, for a 44 year-old slab of vinyl, it's in pretty good shape. The musical highlight of the film (and record) is composer Basil Kirchin's "Vulnavia," which you can access here.


John: Regular readers of bare•bones are very familiar with my fondness for Caroline Munro. While her role in THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES is no more than a glorified cameo—in which she has more screen time via photographs than as a (remarkably well-preserved) corpse—any opportunity to see her onscreen is a welcome one.  And on the bright side, playing a corpse prevented the studio from bringing in another actress to dub her lines, something that occurred all too often throughout her career. Of her PHIBES experience, she told me that it was rather difficult to remain perfectly still in her few scenes, both in that she was allergic to the feathers on her costume, and also because Price had brought in paté to share with the cast and crew, which caused her to burp!

Joseph Cotten

Peter: Several sequels were planned after the first Dr. Phibes made quite a splash but only Dr. Phibes Rises Again came to fruition. To get a fabulously detailed dissection of the various Phibes projects throughout the years (including the most recent, the proposed Johnny Depp/Tim Burton re-imagining), pick up the special Dr. Phibes issue of Little Shoppe of Horrors.

Speaking through a phonograph

Watching the acid

Our first view of the real Phibes

At the organ

Right before an acid bath

Joe Kubert

Our Army at War 135

"Battlefield Double!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert

"Invasion Jitters!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jerry Grandenetti

Jack: Ice Cream Soldier's comment that everyone has a twin somewhere sticks in Sgt. Rock's mind and he begins to think he sees his double in other heroic soldiers on the battlefield. His first suspected twin is a soldier who helps destroy a Nazi bunker when Easy Co. assaults Red Beach. The soldier dies in the battle and Rock realizes they look nothing alike.

Sgt. Rock moves on inland and sees another "Battlefield Double!" in a paratrooper whose chute gets stuck in a tree and who blows up a Nazi machine gun nest. Once again, closer inspection reveals that the men do not resemble each other. A third hero in a tank makes Rock see double until he gets close enough to realize he's wrong. Rock gets a two-day pass and thinks he can clear his head of the thought of a twin. He finds himself back at Red Beach, where the Nazi bunker turns out to have one Nazi left in it, and that man is Rock's double! Rock sneaks up on the enemy and they grapple before Rock emerges victorious, his evil twin silenced.

"Battlefield Double!"

Sgt. Rock rides a bike!

First of all, what's with Kubert turning in one third of a cover again this issue? Issues 129 and 134 through 137 all have this type of cover, where there are three stripes and only the middle features art. Seems kind of like cheating. The story is decent with the usual outstanding art by Joe. The sight of a Nazi Sgt. Rock is a bit disconcerting.

Peter: I was hoping this would avoid all cliches when Rock thinks he sees his double and it turns out he's imagining things but, as usual, Kanigher makes sure he hammers home the message in the end. "Battlefield Double" could have been so much more had it not succumbed to the obvious. It's a decent read but nothing special.

Jack: The Japanese are guarding a key island with the Steel Dragon, a giant gun that is powerful enough to blow ships and subs out of the water from a distance. Brothers Danny and Rick don't have "Invasion Jitters!" since they vow to meet after the attack is complete. Frogman Danny heads off with a time-bomb wristwatch just before Rick's sub is sunk by the Steel Dragon. From his rubber raft, Danny blows up an enemy plane with a well-thrown stick of dynamite, but he is captured by the Japanese and locked in a cabin aboard a boat. His captors take his watch, which soon blows up everyone on board but Danny. He uses the boat as a ram to destroy the Steel Dragon, then sees an enemy destroyer laying depth charges and blows it up with a handy floating mine.

"Invasion Jitters!"

Danny submerges and sees Rick's submarine stuck on the ocean floor. Some quick banging on the hull with Morse Code confirms that Rick and the crew are alive and well. Danny intercepts a depth charge and sends it back to the surface, where it blows up another destroyer. Danny uses a piece of the wreckage to free the sub from the ocean floor and the brothers are reunited at last. Whew! Danny deserves about ten medals for that day's work! I really enjoyed this goofy story and thought Grandenetti's art fit it perfectly. It's almost like James Bond in World War Two, especially with the TNT wristwatch.

Peter: At this point in the game, I'm not sure why DC didn't have a funny book titled Brothers-in-Arms for the many many times they're going back to that well. This one is text heavy; not necessarily a bad thing unless the words are as clunky and confusing as they are here: "The secret hiding place of the giant "dragon" coastal gun--that'll chew up our invasion--if it isn't destroyed!" To confound things, we get bad Grandenetti again after he'd been impressing me so much lately.

Jerry Grandenetti

Our Fighting Forces 79

"Backs to the Sea!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Jerry Grandenetti

"The Battling Broomstick!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jack Abel

Jack: Col. Hakawa and his men attack the marines on the beach who now have their "Backs to the Sea!" After the battle is over, a transport plane lands and Gunner and Sarge send marines on stretchers away from danger. They also load Pooch on the plane, hoping to protect him from harm, but the clever mutt hops off the plane, swims back to the island, and disappears into the jungle. Gunner and Sarge give chase, only to find Pooch appear in various places where he can help them defeat Col. Hakawa's best. At the end, Pooch appears to have been killed in a fight, but he revives when brought back to base. We now have a strong candidate for worst all-around story of the year!

Make it stop!

Peter: In re: that splash page, what the heck is a "TNT frolic"? I'd like to think that "Backs to the Sea" is the lowest both Kanigher and Grandenetti can reach but something tells me higher peaks are yet to be scaled. This is the closest we've come, in the war comics, to the truly awful Jerry we experience on a monthly basis while dissecting the DC horror comics. Call me an idiot, but I thought Kanigher was actually killing off Pooch and a solitary tear came to my eye, remembering all the good times we'd shared.

Jack: PT boat captain Blake laments the fact that he and his crew keep getting sent on reconnaissance missions and never get into much fighting. When finally given some ammunition, they get into one heck of a fight with the enemy and are finally able to raise "The Battling Broomstick!" to show that they made a clean sweep. Jack Abel's long-faced soldiers and sailors are really getting tiresome. I liked Hank Chapman's other two stories this month, but this one is a dud. The worst moment comes at the end, when the PT boat finds itself perched above the conning tower of a sub, firing torpedoes at enemy ships from mid-air.

I can accept Superman flying through space. I can accept Flash circling the Earth 8 times in a second. I can accept a duck in a top hat looking for gold. But this is too much!

Peter: There's way too much dopiness here, from the TNT lingo only a vet could understand (Our sitting duck couldn't waddle--but it still could quack lead calibers... but the other zero shook his TNT seasoning over our fouled-up fowl...) to the PT skipper dumb enough to pal around with comrades who mock his lack of kills to, silliest of all, the sight of a PT boat balanced atop the con tower of a surfaced sub. Oh, and, I wish Hank had explained the concept of the Battling Broomstick one more time as I didn't catch it the first five. Another bad issue of Our Fighting Forces, the Ghosts of DC War.

Irv Novick

All American Men of War 99

"The Empty Cockpit!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Irv Novick

"Attack from Yesterday!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jack Abel

Peter: Bad dreams force Johnny Cloud's CO to ground him, sending him on leave to London. In the dream, Johnny is always flying under a squadron of Nazi fighter planes when a terror rocket emerges and heads for London. At the last minute (still in the dream) Johnny always notices a lone plane that seems ready to intercept and destroy the rocket but, on closer inspection, our hero notes "The Empty Cockpit!" On his first day in London. Johnny narrowly avoids becoming part of Piccadilly Square when a bomb blows up while he's driving through. Meeting up with a British pilot named Allan, Johnny decides that leave is not what he's looking for and accompanies the Brit back to his base. Just as they get there, an alarm is sounded and a scenario very familiar to Johnny begins to unfold. When Allan's plane limps back to base, Johnny is there to help his new friend but Allan is beyond help. Knowing his services are needed, Cloud hops into Allan's plane to finish the job. Once in the air, a terror rocket is launched and Johnny realizes that he is in "The Empty Cockpit!" With a little daring and a whole lot of luck, Johnny wipes out the menace and his bad dreams all in one fell swoop.


Not a bad little adventure. Sure it's got coincidences galore but what DC War story doesn't?  I appreciate that, for the most part, we've put the fact that Johnny Cloud is a Native American off to the side and concentrated on his bravery (pun intended) and air prowess. Yeah, I know, we still get the silly "great white cloud" now and then but at least we're not presented with the "wash, rinse, repeat" of "Johnny meets up with new squadron and has to endure injun jokes" every issue. Nice touch when it's revealed that Johnny himself is occupying that empty cockpit of his dreams.

Jack: When a story starts off with a long dream sequence and then repeats key parts of it several times, you know that the end of the story will feature the dream coming true. It's like Chekhov's gun. Johnny is working so hard that he's exhausted again and gets sent on leave. Aren't there any other fliers in the European theater?

Peter: The Hall Brothers happen to serve under their father, Captain Willard Hall (what are the chances?), a WWI vet who steadfastly declares time and again that the weapons of WWI were much more efficient than those of the current conflict. When the three are attacked in a small village by Nazis, the Captain is separated from his sons and finds himself in a WWI museum (what are the chances?). The Hall Brothers find their pop and the three fire up an ancient spad and a WWI tank and take out the entire German army with their antiques. Hank Chapman manages to rope in two of the most overused DC Warhorses ("the family that fights together..." and "the melding of two wars" and spits out "Attack From Yesterday," a hammy and totally unbelievable bit of nonsense made all the worse by pedestrian Jack Abel art. I'll give it one half star for the sequence when one of the Hall Bros. tells his pa that "the machines in this museum are battle-ready! Just as they were in the first World War!" Though I don't doubt that some of the vehicles could have been kept in pristine condition for twenty years, I do wonder why the proprietors of the museum would keep them fueled!

In our next Alcala-drenched issue of Do You Dare Enter? On Sale May 25th!

by Jose Cruz

I found it in my aunt and uncle's office. It was early afternoon, the combined light of the day outside and the eggshell glow from the bulbs of the rotating fan above giving the setting an innocuous, decidedly mundane atmosphere. But I knew that the book I held in my hands was anything but innocuous or mundane.

The cover looked fairly generic at first glance, emphasis placed on the author’s name rather than the artistic rendition to sell the book. Still, there was something patently forbidden in the pallid, scarred face that stared out off-center, its lips either submerged in the gummy waters of the bayou or covered by cross-hatchings of Spanish moss. Or sewn shut with black voodoo thread. And the title of the book itself: Wormwood. Biblical, ancient, full of whispery pestilence. And just below that an even more telling reveal, a line that explains this short story collection was previously released under the title Swamp Foetus. I was still in middle school when I picked up the book that sunny afternoon, but I still had enough knowledge of these matters to realize that this was horror as I had never conceived before.

It was then that I realized that this Poppy Z. Brite meant business and was, very likely, highly dangerous.

It was only early this year that I finally confronted the work within that forsaken text. My initial apprehensions of Brite being a tawdry peddler in the erotic horror paperback market had been stamped out in the intervening time between that initial encounter and now, appraisals and tributes to her wonderful and unique craft ever-intriguing me to reevaluate that hasty and paranoid assertion I had made as a foolish boy. Diving into Brite’s prose was a full realization of all the praise I had heard.

The renamed collection from Dell (1996)

In her short stories, Brite is audacious and merciless, the viciousness of her narratives honed to a keener edge by the refinement she brings to her work. To read Poppy Z. Brite is to immerse yourself in a cesspool of sensations both thrilling and horrendous: one comes to admire her delectable descriptions of cuisine and landscape with the same fervor as her portrayals of bodily mutilation and raw sexuality. Brite knows that horror is a genre of feelings both physical and emotional, her uniquely trained eye for unconventional imagery and metaphor perfectly suited to elicit frissons in the reader during the course of any one of her poetical tales. Two of them from later in the collection, “Calcutta, Lord of Nerves” and “The Ash of Memory, the Dust of Desire,” are the subject of today’s post.

Reading each story in Wormwood in its presented order allows the reader to pick up on many of Brite’s fascinations and recurrent themes. The underground Goth scene figures heavily in many, as does the rambling, shadowy streets of New Orleans, both of which Brite has called herself a resident. “Calcutta, Lord of Nerves,” therefore, surprises one in its departure from the familiar settings and preoccupations with art and love that came before it. Originally published for Craig Spector’s and John Skipp’s anthology Still Dead (1992), their follow-up to their successful Book of the Dead (1989), the story is another in a gathering of fictions taking place in a universe wherein George Romero's zombies have overtaken the world.

Mark V. Ziesing, 1992

The story is related to us by a nameless narrator (my favorite kind), the son of an American man and Indian woman who was rescued when the hospital he was birthed in burned to the ground, his mother’s bloody body left in the basement morgue after she died in labor. Early on Brite readily establishes her strengths in painting the most vivid pictures with her prose:

[My father] pressed his thin chapped lips to the satin of my hair. I remember opening my eyes—they felt tight and shiny, parched by the flames—and looking up at the column of smoke that roiled in the sky, a night sky blasted cloudy pink like a sky full of blood and milk.

After his despairing father drinks himself to death, the narrator returns to his homeland of Calcutta as a young man.

Calcutta, you will say. What a place to have been when the dead began to walk.

As he sees it, his home has changed very little with the proliferation of the living dead. The city was already a crawling mass of bodies wishing for death, so the sights of zombies eating the entrails of catatonic mothers through their vaginas and munching on the skulls of their children have only become a part of the greater squalor rather than upsetting the social norm.

Not having any responsibilities in a world gone mad (and living in a city that already was), the narrator spends most of his time wandering through the streets overcrowded with ramshackle buildings and watching the degeneracy unfolding around him to preoccupy his time. From the incinerated zombies tossed into the Hooghly River by the police to the rotting beggars who have scarcer meals than the zombies, the narrator witnesses it all with an impassive eye, loving his home all the more with every horrible revelation.

One of his mandatory stops during his trips is the Kalighat, the temple of worship for the goddess Kali. The narrator is entranced by the power and mystifying sex the goddess represents in her monstrous physicality and deathly adornments. As the narrator continues his walks and muses on the practical and metaphysical problems presented by the living dead (a perfunctory explanation linking their reanimation to a biologically-engineered microbe meant to eat plastic waste is the only one given, and briefly), he eventually finds that the labyrinthine streets of the city have led him back to the Kalighat come nightfall. But when he returns to the altar of his beloved mistress, he finds a different kind of congregation gathered in the temple.

I saw human heads balanced on raw stumps of necks, eyes turned up to crescents of silver-white. I saw gobbets of meat that might have been torn from a belly or a thigh. I saw severed hands like pale lotus flowers, the fingers like petals opening silently in the night.

Most of all, piled on every side of the altar, I saw bones. Bones picked so clean that they gleamed in the candlelight. Bones with smears of meat and long snotty runners of fat still attached. Skinny arm-bones, clubby leg-bones, the pretzel of a pelvis, the beadwork of a spine. The delicate bones of children. The crumbling ivory bones of the old. The bones of those that could not run.

These things the dead brought to their goddess. She had been their goddess all along, and they her acolytes.

This macabre diorama, combined with the animation of the sinuous statue itself, compel the narrator to run from the scene back to the ruins of the hospital. He lowers himself into a cradle of ashes, returned to the dust from whence he was born as the dawn of a new day arrives.

Brite’s writing demonstrates such a potent musicality that when paired with these gruesome sights it creates a symphony of terror. “Calcutta, Lord of Nerves” is a narrative of tensions and contradictions. The city is redolent both with beauty and misery; the living dead both of equal standing with the human citizens and perversions of humanity; Kali acting as both a guard of the old faith and the vicious herald of the New World Order. The best writers have the power to take your breath away, to make you envious of their gifts, to keep you thinking long after you’ve finished that last sentence. Poppy Z. Brite does all of this with “Calcutta, Lord of Nerves” and had it been her only story the world could only be so thankful to have at least gotten this little masterpiece from her.

“Calcutta…” presents a vivid depiction of a social horror eating away like a cancer, and in this way it is similar to “The Ash of Memory, the Dust of Desire,” but the latter tale is more secretive where the former was illustrative, dwelling more in the pockets of darkness in between the “candyscapes of nighttime lights” than in the glaring light of the unflinching sun.

St. Martin's Press, 1991

Originally appearing in Dead End: City Limits (1991) edited by Paul F. Olson and David B. Silva, “The Ash of Memory…” is a tale of the modern city, or what would at first appear to be the modern city. The stink and spice of India is left behind in favor of the steely cool of the American metropolis (its exact name is never given) where our narrator, Jonny, works as head chef for the posh hotel restaurant the Blue Shell with his aspiring artist friend Cleve. Jonny’s girlfriend Leah spent a passionate night with Cleve for which the couple is still feeling the emotional shockwaves from, their intimacy gradually crumbling in the wake of the infidelity. Not only that, but Leah has found out she is pregnant. The baby could belong to either man.

Conflicted by his feelings for both Leah and Cleve, Jonny continues to kick back and listen to jazz records with Cleve and comfort Leah in her times of need even when she makes her resentment of his boyish sweetness known to him. When she gets an appointment with a private doctor in a run-down neighborhood to carry out the abortion, Jonny decides to accompany her despite his fear of the decrepit district.

Other parts of the city were more dangerous, but to me the old factories and mills were the most frightening places. The places where abandoned machinery sat silent and brooding, and twenty-foot swaths of cobweb hung from the disused cogs and levers like dusty gray curtains. The places that everyone mostly stayed away from, mostly left alone with the superstitious reverence given all graveyards. But once in a while something would be found in the basement of a factory or tucked into the backroom of a warehouse. A head, once, so badly decomposed that no one could ever put a face to it. The gnawed bones and dried tendons and other unpalatable parts of a wino, jealously guarded by a pack of feral dogs. This was where the free clinic was; this was where certain doctors set up their offices, and where desperate girls visited them.

There’s a telling reveal in Jonny’s words about the head that “no one could ever put a face to it.” This description not only speaks to his fear of the city’s erosion of identity and how a distinct human body can be reduced to a nameless pile of remains that no one can mourn but also his fear of the random, anonymous incidents themselves. Early in the story Jonny speaks of “the grand melodramatic murders” that the city hosts, but one never gets the impression that Jonny speaks of these things as products of human nature. The atrocities he describes in the quoted passage seem to be attributed to a greater and more arcane horror, victims erased from existence by the very environment rather than some mortal perpetrator. This notion is lent more credence as the tale advances.

*SPOILERS*

When Jonny and Leah begin arguing after having difficulty finding the doctor’s office, Jonny runs off, his impotent rage leveled only by his blind devotion to Leah, leading him to make sure that she remains in earshot as she gives chase to him. But Jonny ends up losing track of her, finding evidence that Leah had taken a spill outside an alley before seemingly disappearing from the spot. This is where Brite demonstrates a touch for queasy suspense, ratcheting up the tension as Jonny sees a worn sign pointing down the alley marked with their destination.

But whereas the couple had been searching for “127 Payne Street,” the sign indicates that he has found “Pain Street,” and the number itself is scratched into the face of a yawning metal door leading into one of the ghostly factories. There he discovers the corpse of a young girl “half buried and half dissolved into the grime and ash of the factory floor,” one of the miserably impregnated who sought the aid of a doctor years ago and only found death. Jonny quickly sees that Leah has come to a similar end herself: she’s been run through with one of the towering machine’s gleaming, organic hooks and lifted into the air, the desiccated fetus ripped from her abdomen. The sight leaves Jonny maddened and haunted in the tradition of the Lovecraftian narrator, but any melodramatics are played down with Brite’s eloquent style.

I no longer thought I knew something about love.

Now I knew what love was all about.

A reprint from Penguin Books (1995)

Like “Calcutta, Lord of Nerves,” “The Ash of Memory, the Dust of Desire” leaves off with all its horrors intact, the narrators left to study their lives—or whatever may be left of them—as the dark forces of the unknown continue their work and propagation in the background. The latter story would make a favorable pairing with Clive Barker’s “The Midnight Meat Train,” another tale concerned with the bloody black magic of the old ways literally existing underneath a veneer of modernity. While Barker gives his terrors a face, Brite leaves her story ambiguous. Who or what is controlling these machines? Are they sentient? How did they come to be? Like many things of this earth, there’s more to it than anything Brite or Jonny could have dreamt up in their philosophies.

Both of Brite’s stories are in the end concerned with the unloved and the unwanted. The narrator from “Calcutta” is the product of a fatal birth, one he believes his mother may have despised him for, and an undesirable child is the whole driving force in "The Ash of Memory...". Though separated by hundreds of geographic miles, Leah and the catatonic mothers of India are in their hearts one in the same, victims of circumstances both within and without of their control, food for monsters. It shows us that in spite of whatever are our differences, horror is a tie that binds us.

Brite now identifies as Billy Martin, and you can find his blog here.

Redondo studio?

The House of Mystery 227

"The Vengeance of Voodoo Annie"
Story by Russell Carley and Michael Fleisher
Art by Nestor Redondo

"The Haunting Wind!"
Story by Jack Miller
Art by John Giunta
(reprinted from The Phantom Stranger #2, November 1952)

"Cry, Clown, Cry"
Script Uncredited
Art by Bill Ely
(reprinted from House of Secrets #51, December 1961)

"The Town That Lost Its Face"
Story Uncredited
Art by Bill Ely
(reprinted from House of Secrets #50, November 1961)

"The Weird World of Anton Borka"
Story Uncredited
Art by Howard Purcell
(reprinted from House of Secrets #37, October 1960)

"Demons Are Made... Not Born"
Story by Don Glut
Art by Quico Redondo

"The Girl in the Glass Sphere"
Story Uncredited
Art by Joe Maneely
(reprinted from House of Mystery #72, March 1958)

"The Carriage Man"
Story by Russell Carley and Michael Fleisher
Art by Alfredo Alcala

Peter: Henry and George, the successful owners of Jarrett Bros. Toy Co., have one thing in common: they're both in love with George's wife, Connie. That's bad news for both of them since Connie is playing Henry against George to obtain a share of the toy company. The sultry vixen wants Henry to murder his brother and then run away with her so Henry hooks up with an old hag known as Voodoo Annie, who guarantees her black magic will dispose of George lickety-split. She gives Henry a voodoo doll and tells him to stick a pin in it after midnight but when Connie sees the doll, she throws it out her penthouse window in anger. A few hours later, George is found dead, an apparent suicide. It's not long before the cops come calling, citing a letter written by George shortly before his death, wherein he foretells his own death at the hands of his wife. The police haul Connie away, leaving Henry smiling, happy that his fake letter scheme worked. He'll now inherit the other half of the toy biz and he'll be a gazillionaire. Voodoo Annie calls, wanting fifty grand to keep her trap shut, but Henry's having none of that. He meets with Annie on a cliff and, as he's about to shoot the old woman, she produces a Henry doll. As he blasts her, she drops it over the cliff and Henry tumbles to his death attempting to retrieve it. Some time later, their bodies are found and the cops allow how it's great they finally got con-woman Voodoo Annie, who would mold dolls, murder the subjects, and then blackmail her mark. There are bits of Fleisher peeking through in "The Vengeance of Voodoo Annie" but not much and the whole thing tastes a little rancid, like three day old leftovers. That Scooby-Doo expository at the finale doesn't help things at all. I will admit to not seeing the second twist (Henry's con on Connie) coming and Nestor's art is customarily good so it's not all bad.


Peter: Rare book collectors Solyomi and Kruzz have been looking for the legendary "Chronicles of Satan" tome for decades and, at long last, it has fallen into Solyomi's hands. The book is supposed to contain spells and incantations that can raise demons for fun and profit. Kruzz decides he wants the book to himself so he offs his partner and heads back home with the treasure. There, he draws his pentagram and recites the mumbo jumbo but the result is not what he'd thought it would be: he himself becomes a demon. Satan arrives to inform Kruzz that "Demons are Made... Not Born!" and that the "Chronicles" were put on earth to lure greedy saps into his control. Pretty good story with knockout graphics, "Demons..." also has a true twist in its tail, one that I didn't see coming. I would question Solyomi's assertion that, based on a quick scan of the contents, the "Chronicles" is indeed authentic and written by Ol' Sparky himself! Basing that on what? Handwriting samples? Common themes found in the author's other work? I may have mentioned this before but writer Don Glut has produced a body of fun genre work, from his horror stories such as this to the adventures of his supernatural comic character, Doctor Spektor (published by Gold Key Comics), to two of the most essential genre reference books ever written, The Frankenstein Legend and The Dracula Book.

Jack: Quico Redondo outdoes his brother Nestor this time around with some atmospheric art, marred only by an unintentionally funny panel that shows the newly made demon running from the cops.

Peter: A series of gruesome murders have the police baffled until an abandoned buggy leads them to Henry Plimpton, "The Carriage Man." With the unwitting help of Henry's lady friend, Elaine Ratner, the detectives set a trap designed to bring Henry's nasty habit out into the open. The scheme works and Henry's alter-ego, that of a werewolf, is unmasked. That's it. No twists, turns, or surprises and twenty pages that are padded with lots of smelly stuffing. Like "Voodoo Annie," there's not much of the Michael Fleisher we know and love here. I kept waiting for something unique to pop out at me but the thing just kind of lays there and unravels. Alcala, however, is aces. From the intricate detail of his city street scenes to that full-pager of Henry attacking his customers in the park, there was nobody illustrating horror comics quite like AA (and, I hate to sound the alarm, but we only have a handful of Alfredo left to sup on as he'll soon be commuting between other DC titles and work at Marvel).  It's nice to know Henry was able to keep at least a bit of his human sensibilities about him and didn't kill his horse (who must be pretty used to the transformation by now since he didn't even buck). A looooong, dreary slag.

Jack: I thought this was very Fleisheresque, especially the graphic murders of Phil and Joclyn in the park and the concluding graphic death of the werewolf. Also very in line with the Fleisher I remember is the line of cruelty that runs through the story. The story of Henry and Elaine recalls the plot of Chaplin's City Lights, where the tramp is loved by the blind girl who can't see his clothes but understands his inner goodness. Here, Henry is a kind man who turns into a murderous fiend at the full moon. The strange part of this story is that the police are so callous and cruel. They make fun of Henry and Elaine and show no compassion whatsoever when they kill him in his werewolf form. The story troubled me from that aspect. Shouldn't they have done more? I guess they had to kill the beast, but they at least could have given some explanation to poor Elaine.

Two things struck me as funny in this one. First was the murder of Phil, whose girlfriend Joclyn insists that he get her out of there while he's busy getting his throat ripped out. Second was this exchange between the cops:

Cop #1: "His throat's ripped out . . ."
Cop #2: "Yeah, well you win some, you lose some!"

It's stories like this that made Fleisher a polarizing figure.

Peter: Usually, I attach words such as "innocent," charming," or "imaginative" to the reprints in these 100-pagers but, this time out, the adjectives that jump out at me are "tedious" and "inane." From the silly "Haunting Wind" that follows a temple defiler to the clown who's never satisfied with the amount of laughter he garners to the goofball invisible aliens who make Anton Borka's dreams come true, there's just a bit too much hokum going on. The only rerun worth its paper is Joe Maneely's "The Girl in the Glass Sphere," wherein a reporter stumbles on the story of a lifetime when he discovers that a millionaire's girlfriend is a real-life siren (luring the sailors to the rocks and all). Stan Lee once said that if Maneely, who made his name on Atlas's eyeball-pleasing (and sadly short-lived) Black Knight (1955-56), had not been tragically killed at a young age, he would have become another Jack Kirby. Imagine a world where Joe Maneely illustrated Doctor Strange and The Mighty Thor.

Luis Dominguez

The House of Secrets 125

"Catch as Cats Can!"
Story by E. Nelson Bridwell
Art by Luis Dominguez

"Pay the Piper"
Story by Jack Oleck
Art by Alfredo Alcala

"Instant Re-Kill!"
Story by Steve Skeates
Art by Frank Robbins

Peter: Baron Von Schlamm rules over a small medieval European village with an iron glove, bleeding its peasants dry with his taxes and petty laws. One of those petty laws makes the owning of a cat illegal. That doesn't sit well with a little blonde girl and her feline, Zauberkatze. In fact, whenever one of the Baron's men comes near the kitty, bad accidents happen. Hearing of these mishaps, the Baron himself decides to put a stop to this little girl and her "pranks." But when Von Schlamm confronts the cat, it screeches "some strange sounds" and the Baron disappears. Thankfully, Abel arrives to let us know that the cat is a witch or else we'd have never known. "Catch as Cats Can" is a charming enough fable, with nice art by Dominguez, but since Bridwell saw fit to translate the meaning of the cat's name, couldn't he have let us know the meaning of the magic words it screeched as well?

Easy for you to say!

Jack: I know very little German, but I know that "Zauberkatze" means "magic cat," which pretty much told me all I needed to know on the first page of this story. Still, the Domiguez art is impressive and Bridwell at least manages to tell a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end, which puts this a notch above what we get this month in Ghosts.

Exquisite detail by AA

Peter: A particularly nasty man, Michael Duncan forces his handicapped son to mountain climb with him and, after a very acidic rant directed at young Andy, is surprised when a man dressed in a piper's suit arrives to scold him. Despite the anger he feels, Michael hires the man to guide them down the mountain. While his father sleeps one night, Andy goes off with the piper to a "fantasy land" where his infirmities are magically healed and children flock to him to play. When the youngster tells his father of the magical place, Michael flies into a jealous rage and sends the piper off. That night, the man returns to rescue Andy again, this time for good. Michael sees the piper and his son open a door in the mountainside and disappear. When he goes down to the village for help, the police scoff until he describes the guide and the burgomaster shows him an ancient book containing a drawing of the piper. He is death. Despite the over-the-top portrayal of the sadistic Michael Duncan (yep, I know there are really nasty fathers out there but there's an almost humorous piling on of hatred toward Andy that just doesn't work), this has one of those really nasty kicks in the rear that the DC mystery writers can cook up now and then (usually directed towards feeble children, I hasten to add) and Alcala's exquisite art elevates "Pay the Piper" into one of the year's best. It's bizarre that we feel relieved that the child is dead and free of his brutish father when there must be some other way to save him. This is one that gets better the more you think about it.

More Alcala... just because we can.

Jack: I wonder if Jack Oleck submitted this as part of a two-for-one deal with last issue's "Make Believe," which is such a similar story. In both, a disabled child is taken away by an adult man to a fantasy world where he can be happy and free of disability. For some reason, it works better this time around, mainly due to Alcala's gorgeous art. This will be in the running for the year's ten best, at least on my list.

Peter: Has-been actor Ned Randolph just can't seem to get a good take of the scene he's shooting with the groovy Laura. The director hates the first take of Ned gunning down Laura in a jealous rage so he has him slap her around a bit first. Still not good enough, the director has Ned switch to a shotgun. Much better. Unfortunately, that's when the cops break down the door and we find out the movie is all in Ned's head and Laura's been blasted to bits. "Instant Re-Kill" has a decent twist ending but I defy you to get past annoyance and into enjoyment when you gaze at Frank Robbins' Rorschachs. Check out Laura's relaxed pose in that first panel (below); can the human body actually bend like that?


Jack: Another weak script by Steve Skeates, perfectly matched by horrible art by Frank Robbins. The actress's pose in the first panel is an example of Robbins's tendency to ignore the reasonable possibilities of what the human body can comfortably do. Suffice it to say, the ending makes no sense, but did we expect any more?

Nick Cardy

The Witching Hour 48

"There's a Skeleton in My Closet!"
Story by Carl Wessler
Art by Ruben Yandoc

"Tragedy in Lab 13!"
Story and Art Uncredited

"Curse of the Chinese Charm"
Story by Carl Wessler
Art by Frank Carrillo

Jack: Grant Morrow was a millionaire who had a son named Lance and an adopted son named Wade. He doted on Lance, who was a ne'er do well hippie, while straight-laced Wade felt unloved. When Grant dies and Lance comes home for the reading of the will, Wade rigs the brakes on Lance's car and so causes his death. Wade then learns, to his horror, that "There's a Skeleton in My Closet!" Detective Lonergan suspects Wade of causing Lance's death, but Wade is so frightened by what appears to be the skeleton of his dead brother that he falls off a balcony to his death. Lance's hippie wife, Aimee, shows up to collect the inheritance, and we suspect that she had something to do with the fright campaign that led to Wade's demise. Not a bad little story, though nothing original. Rubeny's artwork holds the pieces together.

Peter: Bloodthirsty relatives? Check. Big inheritance? Check. Phony ghost? Check. Expository for those of us too dumb to see the obvious? Check. Typically good art by Yandoc? Check.

But he's not through with his gig as one of the Village People!

Jack: Dr. Chang invents a miracle drug that prolongs life. A pharmaceutical company offers its sales rep $1,000,000 to get the secret formula, so he woos and proposes marriage to Chang's lovely assistant. They hatch a plan to poison themselves and Chang so that he will tell them the formula and save all of their lives. But a "Tragedy in Lab 13!" occurs when they get their hands on his notebook and find that all of the writing is in Chinese! I let out a big laugh when I read the end of this one. I did not see that coming. Bravo to the unknown writer who thought this up. The art's not bad, either!

Peter: Oh, poor Jack needs a vacation again. Tell me why these two dopes would drink the poison? There's no logical reason for it. All they'd have to do is lie to Chang and tell them they were feeling the effects as well.

Woe is Woo?!?

Jack: Shanghai, 1947, and Hester Drummond buys a charm in a Chinese curio shop. The salesman tells her that the charm will bring good fortune to the ambitious, so she gives it to her boyfriend, Kevin Ames, and sends him on an undersea treasure hunt. He comes up with valuable loot but barely escapes a man-eating shark. Each time he goes back down for more treasure, the charm weighs heavier on him, until he finally takes it off and becomes shark food. Hester doesn't miss a beat and sends another boyfriend, Paul Wethersford, down to get the charm. The "Curse of the Chinese Charm" ensures that he'll meet the same fate as Kevin, but what does Hester care? It was her ambition that was rewarded. "Chinese Charm" is by the numbers, with no surprises.

Peter: Can you duck a shark underwater? Seems a very hard task to me. This one is utterly drab. The climax reads as though Wessler was under the impression he had a few more pages to wrap up his story and, at the last minute, Murray called down to the lunchroom and told Carl he'd have to cut it short.

Kevin decomposed very quickly

Luis Dominguez

Weird Mystery Tales 14

"Blind Child's Bluff!"
Story by Steve Skeates
Art by Ruben Yandoc

"The Price"
Adaptation by E. Nelson Bridwell
Story ("The Price of the Head")
by John Russell
Art by Alfredo Alcala

"Flight Into Fright"
Story by George Kashdan
Art by Ernie Chan

Peter: Bucky is accused of murdering little Cathy’s parents but Cathy knows her dog had nothing to do with the killings, even if she is blind. No, Cathy is convinced her dead father’s ghost took care of her conniving stepmother and Mr. Jones. When the police arrive to shoot the dog, daddy’s ghost makes an appearance and the cops hightail it. Cathy and Bucky are left all alone in the big house. Well, alone except for daddy. Here’s another really dumb story that was obviously accepted because there would otherwise have been five white pages. I’d opt for the blanks after reading “Blind Child’s Bluff.” So, the bloodthirsty police (“Come on! Shoot! Right between the eyes!”) are convinced there’s a ghost after all and run out the door, leaving little blind Cathy to fend for herself? In what universe?
Jack: That was quick! Another poor story by Steve Skeates. I'm also getting a little tired of Ruben Yandoc's art. Give me more Gerry Talaoc!


Peter:  Pellett is a disgrace, spending most of his days on the Polynesian island of Fufuti in a drunken stupor. The only one who still has faith in Pellett is his man-servant, Karaki, who dutifully hoists him upon his shoulder and takes him home to clean him up after Pellett has closed down every bar on the island. This morning, however, Karaki takes Pellett down to the beach, steals a rifle and a catamaran, and hobbles all the village boats so they can’t follow. They head out to sea where the drunken Pellett finally wakes up with the DTs and queries Karaki as to their destination. Balbi, Karaki’s birth place is the answer. After a month at sea, the duo arrive in Balbi, where a suddenly sober Pellett thanks Karaki for all he’s done for him. Is there anything Pellett can do in kind? In Balbi, a white man’s head is “desired above wealth and fame” and Karaki claims his prize. Based on the short story, “The Price of the Head,” by John Russell, “The Price”  is a shot of class in an issue that needs it badly. I had heard this story dramatized on the old time radio show Escape years ago (and you can listen to that show here) so was familiar with the plot but E. Nelson Bridwell does a great job of condensing and editing out the dry bits and leaving a cohesive, enjoyable narrative. Pellett resigns himself to the fact that he’ll be beheaded but tells Karaki he owes his friend that much and more for all he’s done for him over the years. Alfredo always soars when given a story set in a tropical clime and he doesn't disappoint here.


Jack: "The Price of the Head" by John Russell was first published in the May 20, 1916 issue of Collier's and may be read here. I wish Joe Orlando had done more of these adaptations of classic stories, since they are so much better than most of the new stories written by the DC horror scribes. The art by Alcala is flawless, of course, and Bridwell's script follows the story closely. The story ends with Pellett telling Karaki to shoot; the comic version adds two panels to depict the aftermath, which works well in the graphic story format.

The grim climax of "The Price"

Peter: With the help of hunchback Quasimodo, Count Dracula has opened a travel agency that specializes in showing tourists the vampire country of Transylvania. He signs up three cool, hip cats and accompanies them to his castle, where he shows them the coffins of the vampires. The hippies scoff and this outrages the vampire, who locks them in with the awakening vampires. The flower children manage to escape (faulty locks?) but are attacked by vampire bats outside the castle and bitten. The next day, they are on a plane back to America as children of the night and Dracula smiles as he surveys his new “disciples.” If this was meant to be parody, I’m not laughing. Utterly juvenile, “Flight Into Fright” scrapes the bottom of a seemingly bottomless Kashdan barrel. Why is Dracula free to wander around during the day? Uh, George, some rules might be helpful. And how the hell did the three nitwits get out of that locked dungeon? We see Drac slam the door and a couple pages later they’re free. Uh, George, a little continuity might be helpful. The usually reliable Ernie (Chua) Chan turns in a job that could be conservatively labeled "cartoony." The whole package would have been more comfortable located in the pages of the waning Plop! In a year rife with bilge, this is easily the worst thing we’ve read.

Jack: Was that supposed to be a surprise ending? I wasn't surprised. Had I not read the credits, I would not have known this was drawn by Ernie Chua, since it doesn't look much like his usually fluid work. One thing I am not surprised by, though, is another wasted effort by George Kashdan.

Nick Cardy

Ghosts 32

"The Hellfire Club"
Story Uncredited
Art by ER Cruz

"The Fruit of the Hanging Tree"
Story Uncredited
Art by Luis Dominguez

"The Phantom Laughed Last"
Story by Leo Dorfman
Art by Fred Carrillo

Jack: Peter Hain, a reckless and daring student at Cambridge in 1955, demands to be shown the inside of the room where "The Hellfire Club" held its final meeting 50 years before and then disappeared. After the caretaker gives Peter a history lesson, he opens the door. Peter goes in, sees something horrible, and disappears. Yep, that's it! Not exactly a plot, and Cruz's art doesn't help. For the life of me, I can't tell what happened to Peter.

Peter: I'm with you on the confusing aspects of the story but I thought Cruz's art was decent. I liked how he messed around with the layouts and avoided the same old 6-panels per page Ghosts story art. That doesn't mean it gets a thumbs-up from me but it's nice to see something different in this title now and then.

What is happening here???

Jack: In a small town in Bengal, India, ghostly figures appear each year as "The Fruit of the Hanging Tree," reminding villagers of a brutal crackdown by British soldiers a century before. When an engineer digs up the tree to build a new road, the ghosts of the dead emerge from the pit and go on a rampage until the tree is replanted. This is one of those stories by an uncredited artist where I feel like I recognize the style but I just can't put my finger on it. It's not good, that's for sure.

Peter: Nope, this is not good at all. Well, I'll give it half a star for the eerie panels of the ghosts hanging from the trees. That's pretty cool.

'Cause this is thriller, thriller night---

Jack: Paris, 1830, and Alfred does not believe in ghosts until a specter comes out of his mirror to frighten him. Alfred becomes a famous writer, but the specter torments him for years and really cramps his style with the ladies. Finally, he discovers that "The Phantom Laughed Last," the ghost is himself and he drops dead of "premature old age." It's a trifecta! Three awful stories make up this issue of Ghosts, the comic we love to hate! You know what makes no sense? DC was about to put out a giant-sized edition of Ghosts! I can't wait to see what that entails.

Peter: By the 32nd issue, both Jack and I stand and applaud when a mediocre Ghosts story is presented since we're so used to this bottom-of-the-barrel junk. Pretty sad. What's sadder is that the fabulous DC mystery artists like Dominguez, Carrillo, and Cruz have to illustrate these crappy Dorfman scripts (I'm assuming the other two are by Dorfman but the other two Ghosts standbys, Boltinoff and Wessler, are equally as bad).

Can you run that by us again?

In Our Next TNT-Package! On Sale June 1st!

by Jack Seabrook

"Change of Murder" was first published here

The life and work of Cornell Woolrich are examined in great detail in Cornell Woolrich: First You Dream, Then You Die by Francis M. Nevins (1988). Woolrich's stories and novels were often adapted for the big screen, and in 1944 Joan Harrison produced the film adaptation of his novel Phantom Lady. Alfred Hitchcock directed Rear Window, the 1954 adaptation of his 1942 story "It Had to Be Murder," so it is not surprising that when Hitchcock and Harrison began to produce Alfred Hitchcock Presents in 1955 they would look to Woolrich as a source for stories. Throughout the ten-year run of the Hitchcock show, three half-hour episodes were based on Woolrich stories and an hour-long episode was based on one of his novels.

The first of the Woolrich episodes was "The Big Switch," broadcast midway through the first season on January 8, 1956, and based on the story, "Change of Murder," which was first published in the January 25, 1936 issue of Detective Fiction Weekly. Nevins points out that this was one of the author's earliest crime stories. It takes place in Chicago and begins as Brains Donleavy calls on his friend Fade Williams. Fade's office is in the back of a bar in the Loop and he can provide an alibi for a price; after Brains pays Fade for the last time he used this service, Fade quotes a price of $500 to alibi Brains for killing a man on Chicago's North Side.

The story was reprinted in this 1945 digest

Brains explains his plan and signs an IOU, after which Fade shows off his trick telephone booth, whose false wall opens into the garage next door. Fade has a habit of cleaning his gun and Brains warns him that this could be dangerous. The two men retire to the back room to play cards and Brains escapes through the telephone booth. He takes taxis to an apartment building and crawls on a plank across an air shaft and through an open window, hiding in a closet until a man named Hitch comes into the room and Brains emerges, gun pointed. Brains blames Hitch for stealing a woman named Goldie while Brains was in jail. Hitch tells Brains that he was just helping Goldie out when she was in trouble.

Hitch tells Brains that he married Goldie and that they had a baby and named it Donleavy Hitchcock after Brains. Brains lets Hitch go after learning this news and leaves the way he came. Hitch laughs at how he tricked Brains: the baby that Goldie referred to in a letter he showed to Brains was a gun! Brains uses the rick telephone booth to return to Fade's office without being seen. Just then a crowd rushes in and restrains Brains, who sees Fade slumped over dead behind his desk, accidentally shot by his own gun while cleaning it.

The trick phone booth

As Brains leads the crown to the trick telephone booth in an attempt to clear his name for the murder of Fade, he realizes that no one will believe him and remarks: "Six guys I killed and they never touch me for it; the seventh I let live, and they hook me for a killing I never even done at all!"

Nevins points out that the characters in "Change of Murder" are reminiscent of those that Damon Runyon wrote about and that the ending, where Brains is accused of a murder he did not commit after having gotten away with real murders, recalls the end of James M. Cain's The Postman Always Rings Twice, where Frank is convicted of murdering Cora, whom he did not kill, although he had gotten away with killing her husband, Nick.

George Mathews as Sam Donleavy

"Change of Murder" is an entertaining story with a twist ending that makes it perfect for Alfred Hitchcock Presents. One also wonders if Hitchcock and Harrison found it hard to resist a story where one of the main characters is named Hitchcock and goes by the nickname of Hitch! Richard Carr adapted it for television and title was changed to "The Big Switch"; this was not the only thing about the story that was changed, but the show is still quite enjoyable. Hitchcock's onscreen introduction to the show includes a rare mention of the author of the story, as one master of suspense pays tribute to another: after a joke about mouse traps, Hitchcock remarks that "Cornell Woolrich makes people traps, and very good ones, too."

Joseph Downing as Lt. Al

"The Big Switch" was directed by Don Weis and begins with a scene not in the story. Before that scene, a couple of title cards superimposed over a street scene tell us that it is "Chicago 1920" and "In the Days of Bullets, Bootleggers and Beautiful Babes." From these title cards, we know that this episode will be tongue in cheek.

We first meet Sam (not Brains) Donleavy in his apartment, where he talks to his pet bird, Edgar, and his pet cat, Schultz; Sam has a pronounced accent that is a mix of Brooklynese, Irish, and Chicago gangster. A police lieutenant named Al pays Sam a visit; the two have known each other since childhood and Al recalls how a teacher once took a switch to Sam. Sam asks Al if he'd like to do the same and Al replies that "The only switch big enough for you now is the one that throws the juice to the chair." This explains the episode's title, "The Big Switch," though it could also refer to the switch of places Sam later makes by means of the trick phone booth.

Goldie talks to Morg about Baby

Suspecting that Sam has come back to Chicago to cause trouble, Al asks him to leave town and needles him about a framed picture of Goldie. Al suspects that Sam came back to the city to punish Morgan, Goldie's new boyfriend. The banter between the two old friends/enemies is effective and is peppered with slang typically used by gangsters and cops in Hollywood movies.

The show then picks up where the short story began, as Sam visits the speakeasy owned by Barney (not Fade). Humor continues to be the dominant theme as Sam complains that Barney's demand of $2500 for an alibi for murder is dishonest--as if the idea of committing murder and getting away with it is honest! Unlike in Woolrich's story, however, this time Sam plans to kill Goldie rather than her boyfriend. Al, the police lieutenant, comes to the speakeasy to keep an eye on Sam.

George E. Stone as Barney

When Sam escapes through the phone booth and goes to Goldie's room, the entire episode of him crawling across a plank between two buildings to gain access is eliminated, which is too bad, since it is a suspenseful part of the story and one that the reader can easily imagine. In the TV show, Sam just climbs in through Goldie's window. The scene between Sam and Goldie is similar to the one between Brains and Hitch in the story. This time, Goldie asks if she can call her husband Morgan to say goodbye and while they talk we see him on the other end of the line admiring "Baby," his large gun. Goldie asks Sam to give "little Donleavy" a kiss through the phone and he not only backs off from his plan to kill her, he insists that she meet him the next morning to go shopping for gifts for the baby! He gives her a chaste kiss on the forehead and leaves.

Beverly Michaels as Goldie

Back at the speakeasy, Sam hears Barney pretending to yell at him during the imaginary card game. He then hears a gunshot and rushes in; this time, the crowd that rushes in is led by Lt. Al, who holds a gun on Sam, certain that he has committed murder. The final lines spoken by Sam are similar to those spoken by Brains in the story and underline the irony of the situation.

"The Big Switch" is a fairly faithful adaptation of "Change of Murder" that adds the character of Al, the police lieutenant, and changes the target of Brain's wrath from his former girlfriend's new boyfriend to his former girlfriend herself. Both new characters are welcome, partly because of good performances by the actor and actress. In fact, the performances in this episode are all good.

Al cleans his gun once too often

Richard Carr (1929-1988) adapted the story for television. He worked in TV from 1952 to 1981 and in movies from 1956 to 1981, though most of his work was for television. He began as a writer for radio and wrote three episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, all during the first season. He later wrote two episodes of Batman.
Don Weis (1922-2000), who directed "The Big Switch," directed five episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, including "Santa Claus and the Tenth Avenue Kid" and Henry Slesar's "First Class Honeymoon." He worked in movies from 1951 to 1978 and on TV from 1954 to 1990, directing many episodes of various TV series. He directed a Twilight Zone, four Batmans and four Night Gallery segments. An entertaining article about his career may be found here.

Entering Goldie's room

Starring as Sam Donleavy is the huge, craggy-faced actor George Mathews (1911-1984), whose career began with the WPA Theatre during the depression. He started in movies in 1943 and on TV in 1949 and worked into the early 1970s. He was in The Man With the Golden Arm (1955) and two episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, but he will best be remembered as Harvey, the pool hall bully in the episode of The Honeymooners called "The Bensonhurst Bomber." Mathews was born--where else?--in Brooklyn.

The sultry Beverly Michaels (1928-2007) plays Goldie with the same tawdry sensuality she brought to other roles, such as her starring turn in Wicked Woman (1953). She had a brief career, appearing in 11 movies and three TV episodes between 1949 and 1956, but those roles were memorable. She was born in the Bronx and this was her only appearance on the Hitchcock show. She appears to have given up acting soon after it was filmed.

Pretending to play cards

The role of Barney is played by the diminutive George E. Stone (1903-1967), 5'3" tall to George Mathews's 6'5", who was born Gerschon Lichtenstein in Poland. He was in countless movies from 1927 to 1961, including Little Caesar (1931), 42nd Street (1933), The Man With the Golden Arm (with Mathews, not long before "The Big Switch"), and Some Like it Hot (1959). His TV career lasted from 1953 to1963 and included two appearances on Superman, though this was the only time he was seen on Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

Joseph Downing (1903-1975) plays Al, the police lieutenant. He was in movies from 1935 to 1957 and on TV from 1949 to 1963. He appeared in Angels With Dirty Faces (1938) and was on Alfred Hitchcock Presents three times.

"Change of Murder" was also adapted as a half-hour live TV broadcast on May 21, 1950, as part of the Colgate Theatre series; newspaper listings report that the cast included Bernard Nedell, Charles Jordan, Alfred Hopson and Martin Kingsley. This show is almost certainly lost.

"The Big Switch" is available on DVD here and may be viewed online for free here.

Sources:
"The Big Switch."Alfred Hitchcock Presents. CBS. 8 Jan. 1956. Television.

Joe Kubert

Our Army at War 136

"Make Me a Hero!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert

"I, the Bazooka!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jack Abel

Jack: Sgt. Rock nicknames the new recruit Glory Boy because he keeps asking Rock to "Make Me a Hero!" to fulfill a promise to his girl back home. Rock tells a couple of stories of how other combat-happy Joes got medals and then the sergeant shows some heroics himself by testing out a frozen lake and fighting a Nazi ambush on the other side. Glory Boy is sent out alone on patrol and captured by Nazis; he leads them back to Easy Co. but refuses to give the code word, causing himself and the Nazis to be wiped out by gunfire. As he dies, Rock assures him that he is a hero.

The tale of Glory Boy starts out slow and at first seem like some others we've read, but by the time it starts snowing and Rock has to cross the frozen lake, Kubert's magnificent artwork ensures that this story is a winner. The climax, where Glory Boy finds out the hard way what makes a hero, is tense and satisfying.


Peter: We've hit a lull in the Sgt. Rock series, in my opinion. If not really bad, the last three or four stories have been weak. This one's no exception. The flashbacks are pretty schmaltzy and "Glory Boy"'s unending drone of "make me a hero, sarge" had me rolling my eyes. I will say there were a couple of highlights here: the sequence where Rock takes a swim in the icy water is chilling (see what I did there?); Kubert almost makes you feel as if you're the one who took a spill into the drink. Glory Boy's eventual sacrifice (hope his girl is happy!) almost undoes all the maudlin bits that come before it but Kanigher can't help but give the kid some final words (ugh!). As I say, it ain't terrible, but it sure isn't the class material we've become accustomed to.

Load him! Load him!

Jack: When a new bazooka is delivered to Charlie Company, the men assigned to use it don't trust it until they see it fire on its own and destroy two Nazi tanks. "I, the bazooka" is one of those stories where inanimate objects tell us their thoughts through word balloons. "Please give me a chance!" cries the bazooka. At one point, a Tommy gun asks, "Aren't you good for anything?" This is not Hank Chapman's best work.

Peter: I love how, in just about every panel, these dorky soldiers are saying things that would hurt the feelings of a hunk of metal. Why would two rational people carry on a diatribe about a weapon in such a way? Of course, I'm complaining about the stilted dialog in a story narrated by a bazooka! We've had tanks that talk, revolvers that talk and now a bazooka. Can't wait for the obvious follow-up--"I Am Your Latrine!"

Jerry Grandenetti & Jack Adler

G.I. Combat 102

"Battle Window!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert

"The Ace With Two Faces!"
Story by Bob Haney
Art by Jerry Grandenetti

Peter: Jeb Stuart (the ghost) delivers yet another warning to Jeb Stuart (his descendant) about imminent danger to the Jeb Stuart (the tank): the lives of the men will be decided by a single shot. What could that mean, ponders the young Jeb. After a series of mishaps, including a Panzer that gets a heave-ho into the ocean by the Haunted Tank, the men wheel into a small French village. Unbeknownst to our heroes, the village is being held by yet another Panzer unit, masterminded by a cold-as-ice tank commander just itching to put Yankee soldiers in the ground. The Nazi's plans are thwarted by a French war vet who sits rocking in his chair, taking it all in. The old man alerts the Jeb Stuart to the imminent danger and then takes out the assassin roosting in a church bell tower with a single shot! Jeb and his men destroy the Panzer unit and ponder the identity of their savior. Start to finish, one of the best Haunted Tank adventures yet. The action never lets up, there're no dopey catch phrases or mawkish kitten rescues to weigh this one down, just one solid action epic. It's nice to see a bit more of General Stuart than we're used to and I'm hoping we get to see even more in the future. "Battle Window" is about as close to perfect as this series has been in its sixteen installments. I do miss Heath (curiously absent since March 1963), but if you have to have a back up artist on a war series, who better than Kubert? Joe's work here is stunning, especially the several "point of view" panels scattered here and there. Barring an upset in the next few weeks, this is my pick for Best Story of 1963.


Peter: When Ronny is killed in battle with the notorious Baron Luft, his brother Mike swears revenge on the captain who was supposed to be protecting little Ronny. When Mike tangles with Luft, the two pilots must make emergency landings. The Baron gets the better of Mike and steals his Spad in an effort to mow down the rest of Mike's squadron but "The Ace With Two Faces" bounces back and quickly dispatches the German ace. When he lands, Mike tells the captain he knows the man has no blood on his hands and the two embrace. What a load of hooie; a complicated script made even muddier by Jerry's awful artwork. So Mike makes a vow to kill the captain but then all is forgiven once the Baron steals his plane? Talk about unbelievable swings of emotions; I guess they didn't have medication for that sort of thing at the turn of the century.

Jack: Above-average Grandenetti for 1963 is still not great, but I thought that the twist of having the Allied and German planes swiped and piloted by each other's enemy was clever and it helped explain what at first appeared to be a strange opening. Jerry G. was good at drawing planes and could depict dynamic poses of the human body; it's his faces that always seem to disappoint.

Jerry Grandenetti

Our Fighting Forces 80

"Don't Come Back!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Jerry Grandenetti

"Second Best!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jack Abel

Jack: Out on patrol once again, Gunner, Sarge and Pooch are surprised by an enemy ambush. While they are out cold on the ground, the Japanese steal their guns and Pooch's dog tag. Waking up to find themselves alive but weaponless, our heroes know that the rule is "Don't Come Back!" without your guns, so they track the Japanese and end up prisoners of Col. Hakawa at his HQ, where he has proudly displayed their arms on a display board. When battle ensues, the guys are sprung, and G, S & P triumph over the hapless enemy before heading back to base. It's really a toss up which is worse--this series or the War That Time Forgot. I'll give the edge in likability to the dinosaurs just because they're dinosaurs.

Peter: This story's title perfectly captures my feelings about this series. When I finish another episode, I pray it will be the last. Unfortunately, since we're Monday morning quarterbacks, I know this mess will dribble on for another 14 installments (October 1965 can't get here fast enough!) and, being the trooper and completist I am, I'll slog through every single one of those stories. Sad thing is, based on the 36 Gunner and Sarge tales we've endured so far, I think I can sum them all up right now without reading them. I think we're witnessing here the ground zero where "Jerry Grandenetti, the sometimes-decent artist" became "Jerry Grandenetti, the always-awful artist." His scribbling here and in "Ace with Two Faces" is about as bad as we've seen him in the 1960s. Fortunately (for us, at least), Jerry's first run on the war books is soon coming to an end as he'll turn to working for Charlton, Warren and, later on, the DC mystery line.

Jack: Ever since high school, Lew Lacy has always come out "Second Best!" to his rival, Ace Atkins. Ace was selected as an All-American in football, and when both men join the air force in WWII, Ace again comes out on top and becomes an ace pilot while Lew quietly does a good job of protecting the other fliers. Along comes the Korean War, and Lew and Ace are in the skies again, this time flying jets. Ace excels until the day when he needs help and Lew blows five MiGs out of the sky to save his rival's life. Most troubling for me in this story was the scene with Lew and his high-school girlfriend, Dotty, who tells him: You've got to be better than second best--to be first with me, Lew!" If these poor guys in the '40s weren't being dumped on by their war-hero Dads, they were getting verbally skewered by their girlfriends. No wonder they headed off to war!

Does anyone else think Jack Abel had a little help with this panel? Maybe from Irv Novick?

Peter: I think Hank Chapman was in such a hurry to pump out this hunk of garbage that he missed the  most obvious hook--Ace Atkins should have been a Nazi! Can't you see Ace with his swastika-embossed Notre Dame jersey diving out of the sky right into the path of our #2 Best All-American Runner-Up Lacy? Extra points for shallowest characters ever written for a war drama. In my voting for Worst Story of the Year, make no mistake... this will not be "Second Best!"

Ross Andru & Mike Esposito

Star Spangled War Stories 111

"Return of the Dinosaur Killer!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Ross Andru and Mike Esposito

"The Brainwashed Jet!"
Story by Bob Haney
Art by Jerry Grandenetti

Peter: Trapped on an island filled with enemy troops, the professor and the skipper (our protagonists from last issue's "Tunnel of Terror") must rely on a hidden glider to make their escape. The good news is: the air force arrives just in time to hook up their glider and rescue them from utter death; bad news: their tow plane is attacked by Zeroes and their line is released, leaving them to the whims of the Pacific. The glider enters a strange (and strangely familiar) white cloud and exits into a land of prehistoric monster creatures from the dinosaur stone age. Once they land, the duo decide to check the river where their giant white friend made his last stand (last issue), just to be sure the ape is dead. A quick dive produces the evidence they were lacking and the Skipper and Professor lament the loss of their savior, moments later, when they are sandwiched on a cliff by carnivores out for a morning snack. Out of the blue, a giant white hand reaches down and save the men from total digestion. The son of big white ape! Our giant Caucasian bodyguard defends the duo time and again and then "tells" them to get into their glider, giving the boys a final shove and wave goodbye. "Return of the Dinosaur Killer" is just as stupid as its predecessor (and just about all of the War That Time Forgot installments, for that matter) but, like "Tunnel of Terror," this ersatz Grandson of Kong has loads of charm and innocence, enough to melt the heart of even an old cynic like me. Another plus is the fact that the Skipper and the Professor manage to retain all the knowledge they had in their first adventure; there's no post-trauma amnesia as in the Circus Brothers adventures we endured several months ago. One question though: will further adventures tell us how the Skipper and Professor hooked up with Gilligan, Mary Ann, and the other castaways?

A rare thumbs-up for the cartoony stylings of Groovy Grandenetti

Peter: Major Ben Wade, one of our top aces, is captured by the stinking commie Koreans and brainwashed into believing his own men are the enemy. Before they release him, the bad guys test the Major by having him destroy a captured Sabre. Confident he is in their command, the Koreans allow Wade to return to his base. There he learns that his brother, Billy, has joined the crew but, oddly, spends no time with the young man. On their next mission, Billy watches in horror as brother Ben shoots down one of his own men. The C.O. scoffs and tells Billy to get back to work. The big mission arrives: the squadron must blow up a dam in order to flood an enemy compound but will Ben execute that mission or will he blow his own guys out of the sky? The Koreans are taken aback, to say the least, when their puppet successfully blows the dam to bits and puts to bed the theory that any man can be brainwashed. When Billy gets back to base, the C.O. admits that Wade's brainwashing was an act to fool the enemy and that no pilots were harmed.

What begins as an exciting DC version of The Manchurian Candidate (which had been released the year before) sputters out and crashes in an expository-heavy climax. Yes, I know I was being naive when I thought there might be something of substance, just a little bit of edge maybe, here in "The Brainwashed Jet," but the opening and second act are pretty engaging (the sequence where the Koreans sacrifice one of their own pilots in order to test Major Wade is heavy stuff for a funny book) and certainly led me to believe there might just be a little more meat on the bone. I even thought Jerry Grandenetti's cartoony, exaggerated style (yep, that same awful mishmash I moaned about above!) was perfect for the nightmarish brainwashing segment, as if we're seeing this distorted world through Major Wade's eyes. Alas, Bob Haney has to wrap it all up with a "he's always been a hero, boys and girls" bow. Why bother misleading kid brother Billy? A missed opportunity.

Jack: A little more meat on the bones than usual for a backup story, don't you think? I love The Manchurian Candidate and I like the way Bob Haney worked the idea of brainwashing into what is essentially a run of the mill story. Even though the end was a bit of a letdown he gets points for trying.

Next Up: The Best DC Horror Stories of 1974! On Sale June 8th!

Nick Cardy

The Witching Hour 49

"Bride of Satan"
Story by George Kashdan
Art by Vicente Alcazar

"The Prisoners of Mortuary Island"
Story by Carl Wessler
Art by E.R. Cruz

"You Can't Kill a Corpse"
Story by Carl Wessler
Art by Romy Gamboa

Peter: Raymond wants to marry the lovely (and more important, wealthy) Tess. Since he's a poor sap and not all that handsome to boot, he does what anyone else in the DC Mystery Universe would do: he makes a bargain with Satan for instant wealth. When Tess finds out, she's mortified and makes her own bargain with the devil: she'll become the "Bride of Satan" if he'll release Raymond from his bargain. Sizing Tess up and remarking he won't find a babe like this one in Hell, he quickly agrees. The happy couple are married and then Tess drops the bomb on her new hubby: she's actually an ugly old crone who was looking for just the right man. Now she has him. So the devil has the power to grant instant wealth, long life, and better television shows, but he's not smart enough to know when the con is on? And what's the next step for Tess? It's not like she inherits any new powers. A really dumb script with mediocre Alcazar art.

The devil is a dumbbell

Jack: It isn't the Devil, it's Baal, an ancient near-eastern god reviled in the Old Testament as a competitor of Yahweh. But it's still the same old twist where the beautiful girl is revealed to have been an ugly witch all along.

by Jack Seabrook

Woolrich's story was first published here

The second episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents to be adapted from a Cornell Woolrich short story was "Momentum," broadcast on CBS on June 24, 1956, as the last episode of season one. The story on which it was based is "Murder Always Gathers Momentum," which was first published in the December 14, 1940 issue of Detective Fiction Weekly.

As the story begins, Richard Paine waits outside the window of Mr. Burroughs, recalling that he had been a faithful employee of Burroughs's company who was owed $250 in back pay when Burroughs declared bankruptcy to avoid paying his debts. Paine and his wife have suffered from lack of money and are about to be turned out of their apartment for unpaid rent. He sees Burroughs talking to another person and watches as the old man opens his safe, takes out a stack of bills, and gives money to the unseen person, who leaves. Paine hides from view and cannot see who is leaving.

Once the visitor is gone and Burroughs has retired upstairs, Paine summons his courage and breaks into the house through a window. He opens the safe, having memorized the combination minutes before, and is suddenly bathed in light as Burroughs appears, alerted by a silent alarm. Burroughs holds a gun on Paine and tries to pull off the handkerchief covering his face. Paine wrestles with Burroughs, deflecting the gun and knocking the old man to the floor. Burroughs grabs the handkerchief and identifies Paine, who shoots and kills the old man with his own gun. Taking only the $250 he was owed, Paine escapes unseen but fears that "Murder, like a snowball rolling down a slope, gathers momentum as it goes."

Skip Homeier as Dick

He goes to a bar and orders two drinks, certain that the bartender suspects him. Moving to the washroom to take out a stolen bill to pay the bar tab, Paine is followed by the bartender, whose surprise entrance leads to a struggle, a gunshot, and another murder on Paine's conscience. "Two in less than an hour. Paine didn't think the words, they seemed to glow out at him, emblazoned on the grimy washroom walls in characters of fire, like in that Biblical story." The story to which Woolrich refers is, of course, the story of the prophet Daniel and the writing on the wall. The words written on the wall are translated roughly in part as "you have been weighed in the balance and found wanting"; this applies to Dick Paine in "Murder Always Gathers Momentum" most clearly after he has committed his second murder, and the doom implied by the ancient sentence foretells his end.

Joanne Woodward as Pauline

Outside the washroom, in the bar, Paine finds a drunk, who demands to be served; Paine pretends to be the bartender, giving the man a bottle and shooing him out the door. Staggering home to his apartment,Paine sees his wife Pauline asleep and passes the rest of the night alone, kneeling on the floor of the outer room, head and arms buried in the sofa cushions. Pauline finds him in the morning and he tells her not to mention the name Burroughs. Claiming to have borrowed the much-needed cash from a friend, he becomes paranoid and thinks that people on the street below are coming after him. However, the first person he fears turns out to be the building's janitor, showing the Paines' apartment to a prospective new tenant.

Dick tells Pauline to pack so they can leave in a hurry. He thinks he sees someone outside waiting for him and tells Pauline to go to the train terminal, buy two tickets to Montreal, and wait for him on the train. After she leaves, he crouches by the window, running outside when he thinks the man is after Pauline. Of course, the man is waiting for someone else, but Dick immediately sees another man loitering on the sidewalk and scurries back into his apartment. The man comes to the door and Dick shoots him as he enters, only to learn he was just a loan shark. Dick races out but the gunshot attracted attention and he exchanges gunfire with a policeman, killing the cop but being wounded himself in the process.

Watching through the window

Bleeding badly, Paine enters a taxi and asks the cabbie to drive him around the park to kill time before meeting Pauline at 8 o'clock. Turning the radio on, the cabbie hears a report about the dangerous fugitive in his cab. Dick shoots the cabbie as he attempts to run away, dons his cap and coat, and drives to the terminal. Barely able to maneuver the cab from loss of blood, Dick reaches the station and staggers up the stairs and onto the train. He makes his way through the cars, near death, and reaches Pauline. Falling into the seat beside her, he causes her to drop her handbag and a packet of bills falls out. She explains that she had gone to see Burroughs the night before and he gave her the money he owed Dick, but since Dick had told her that morning not to mention his name, he never knew that she was the unseen figure he saw Burroughs talking to as he watched through the window.

"Murder Always Gathers Momentum" has as its backdrop the Great Depression of the 1930s, and the financial difficulty faced by Richard and Pauline Paine would have been familiar to readers of the detective pulp magazine in which it appeared. When the story was adapted for television about fifteen years later, times had changed. World War Two had come and gone, as had the Korean War, and by 1955 the nation was at peace and the economy was in much better shape than it had been in 1940. The title of the story was shortened to "Momentum" and, despite a teleplay by Francis Cockrell and direction by Robert Stevens, the episode is less than the sum of its parts. It bears a copyright date of 1955 but was not broadcast till the end of June 1956, suggesting that the producers realized it was a weak episode and held it till the end of the season, when viewership declined.

Homeier superimposed over stock footage of New York City; note "The Phenix City Story" on the marquee, dating the shot around summer 1955

As is often the case on Alfred Hitchcock Presents, the televised version of the story begins with scenes depicting events that were already in the past when the print version of the story began. We first see Dick Paine superimposed over stock footage of crowded city life as he comments in voiceover on the "rat race." Voiceover and superimposed shots continue as he looks for a job unsuccessfully; it is confusing that the stock footage appears to be of locations in New York City, while the action of the episode later seems to take place in California rather than in New York, as it did in Woolrich's story.

A scene of Dick and Beth (not Pauline) at home follows, where we learn of their money troubles and the tension that this brings into their marriage. Dick stops in a bar and tries unsuccessfully to borrow money from the bartender; he drinks some Dutch courage before heading to Burroughs's house, where we pick up with the start of the original story. Knowing the surprise ending, it's hard to believe Paine cannot see his own wife through the window, though her identity is shielded from the viewer's eyes by a well-placed curtain. The day for night filming in this scene is not very effective, leading to some confusion as to the time of day. The scene is so well-lit that it's hard to believe Paine does not see his wife walking away from the house.

High-contrast noir lighting is used in this shot, where Ken Christy as Burroughs points a gun at Paine

Unlike the story, Paine does not try to mask his identity by tying a handkerchief over his face; this suggests that the theft was a spur of the moment decision rather than something he planned in advance. Burroughs recognizes Paine right away but neglects to mention that Dick's wife just left the premises. Oddly enough, the situation, the lighting, and the use of voiceover all suggest a noir aspect to "Momentum," but the episode never really coalesces and fails to maintain the noir atmosphere from start to finish.

After Paine leaves Burroughs's house, the visit to the bar is omitted from the TV show, so Paine does not commit a second murder. Perhaps this was a conscious decision by Cockrell to make Paine more sympathetic. The sense of paranoia that Paine feels when he is back in his apartment is also much less; rather than thinking  that the janitor has it in for him, the janitor just barges into the apartment and shows it to a prospective tenant. Again, it is hard to accept that Beth would not tell her husband about her visit to Burroughs, but the twist ending depends on her keeping silent. Cornell Woolrich had the ability to pile one coincidence on top of another and to make the reader forget about lapses in logic due to the propulsive nature of his writing. The TV version of "Momentum" does not succeed in this way, leaving the viewer to wonder why people fail to say and do the things that one would expect them to do.

It is strange that Dick tells Beth to buy two bus tickets to Mexico, then changes it to San Diego. Why alter this detail from the story, in which they live in New York City and he tells her to buy train tickets to Montreal? The change from train to bus lessens the suspense, as the final scene does not have Paine struggling his way through crowded train cars. In fact, he never boards the bus, but rather happens on Beth sitting on a bench outside the station.

Harry Tyler is on the right in one of his 11 appearances on the series

Paine also does not shot the loan shark in the TV version, nor does he exchange gunfire with a policeman and get fatally wounded. Instead, a bill collector (standing in for the loan shark of the story) enters Paine's apartment and Paine is accidentally shot in a struggle. Paine locks the bill collector in the bedroom and escapes. Presumably, Cockrell decided (or was told) that TV censors would not accept a multiple murderer as the protagonist of this episode, and so Paine's progress is changed so that he only kills Burroughs, and that is by mistake. Even the poor cabbie who picks up Paine is spared--Paine hits him over the head with his gun rather than shooting him.

The biggest problem with "Momentum" is that it lacks the title attribute and never really builds suspense. Paine dies in Beth's arms  at the end and his last words circle back to the comment he made at the beginning of the show: "It's a rat race--you run all day." Unfortunately, despite a talented writer, a skilled director, a competent cast, and various noir touches, "Momentum" is a letdown and does not live up to the promise of Woolrich's original story. Francis M. Nevins sums it up this way: "this all-too-straight-forward little picture left out most of the Depression Era desperation and anguish . . . that permeate Woolrich's story."

Francis Cockrell (1906-1987), who wrote the teleplay, started his career in movies in 1932 and moved to TV in 1950. He placed many short stories in pulps and slicks in the '30s and '40s and wrote a serial called "Dark Waters" with his wife Marian Cockrell that was serialized in The Saturday Evening Post, published as a novel, and adapted as a film. In addition to writing four episodes of Batman, he wrote 18 episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, including "Back for Christmas,""De Mortuis," and "The Dangerous People."

Mike Ragan as the cabbie

"Momentum" was directed by Robert Stevens (1920-1989), who began as a TV director in 1948 and added movies in 1957. He directed two episodes of The Twilight Zone; among the 44 episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents that he directed was "The Glass Eye," for which he won an Emmy.

Playing the lead role of Dick Paine is Skip Homeier (1930- ), who began his acting career as a child on radio and successfully navigated his way through growing up on camera into a long career as an adult. He appeared in films from 1944 to 1982 and on TV from 1950 to 1982; he was on The Outer Limits, two episodes of Star Trek, and two episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

Joanne Woodward

Joanne Woodward (1930- ) plays Beth Paine. She started on TV in 1952 and in film in 1955. Her many films include The Three Faces of Eve (1957) and The Drowning Pool (1975). She was married to Paul Newman from 1958 until he died in 2008 and this was her only appearance on Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

Among the familiar faces filling out the cast of "Momentum" are Ken Christy (1894-1962) as Burroughs, Mike Ragan (1918-1995) as the cabbie, and Harry Tyler (1888-1961) as the old man looking at the Paines' apartment. Tyler was one of the most prolific of character actors on the Hitchcock series, appearing in a total of 11 episodes.

Was this insert shot added later to match the air date in late June 1956?

Prior to being adapted for television in 1955, "Murder Always Gathers Momentum" had been adapted for radio (as "Momentum") and broadcast on October 27, 1949, as part of the series Suspense, with a radio play by E. Jack Neuman and starring Victor Mature and Lurene Tuttle. The radio version may be heard online here. Like the version televised in 1956, this version reflects the economic conditions of the times--Dick Paine is lazy and does not want to look for work, even though his wife says that everyone who wants a job has one. The multiple murders are present, but Paine's first killing is over royalties he thinks he deserves from an invention rather than unpaid back wages.

The TV version of "Momentum" is available on DVD here or may be viewed for free online here.

Sources:

Joe Kubert

Our Army at War 137

"Too Many Sergeants!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert

"Bring Back the Admiral!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jack Abel

Jack: An old soldier nicknamed Ramrod is the newest recruit to join Easy Co., but Rock realizes that the man's long history of fighting means that this company has one "Too Many Sergeants!" Ramrod tells his fellow men stories of the old days, when cavalry charges were done on horseback and fighting was man to man. He does not like modern fighting methods involving machinery and insists on standing tall and charging the enemy every chance he gets. Realizing that this is a recipe for disaster, Rock does his best to protect Ramrod and the rest of his men, who are energized by the old soldier's tactics and begin to take dangerous chances themselves. In the end, Ramrod leads Easy Co. in a charge on a hill manned by Nazis; Rock and his men take the hill and Ramrod breathes his last.

"Too Many Sergeants!"

I don't think it's a coincidence that, in the flashbacks to Ramrod's cavalry days, we see him in the 7th Cavalry, which foolishly charged at Little Big Horn and paid the price. Kanigher and Kubert are at their best in "Too Many Sergeants!"

Peter: While it's really just another in the long string of "new recruit" stories, "Too Many Sergeants!" veers off into uncharted territory and scores a bullseye. Ol' Ramrod's mid-battle rants probably wouldn't have been tolerated in the real army and he'd have been sent back for observation but the poignant scenes and dialogue made me ignore the script's weaknesses. The old-timer's flashback discussion with his horse ("Our time will come, Laddie! Man against man! Mount against mount! Standard against standard! With the sound of the bugle liftin' us like the wind!") is both heart-breaking and chilling. This guy really digs war and without war he's simply another man with too much time on his hands, it seems. We've had senior citizen officers in many of the tales we've read before but I've never seen one as a "replacement." Was this common or simply a plot device? "Too Many Sergeants!" is a welcome return to the quality Sgt. Rock we've been missing the last few months.

"Bring Back the Admiral!"

Jack: A new Navy recruit keeps a promise to his mother to "Bring Back the Admiral!" despite enemy attempts to prevent him from succeeding. The admiral is his father, who knows secret battle plans and tells his son not to let the enemy take him alive. Sometimes I read a story and try to guess the writer and artist before looking at the GCD for the credits. From the first panel, the art was obviously by Jack Abel, and it wasn't long before I recognized the prose stylings of Hank Chapman. No one else uses phrases such as "magnetic boom ball" and "barrel of doom."

Peter:

Dad: "Son, you have to make sure I don't fall into enemy hands!"
Son: "But, dad, I promised mom I would bring the admiral home!"
Dad: "Yes, but son, you have to make sure I don't fall into enemy hands!"
Son: "Yes, I know, dad, but I promised mom I would bring the admiral home!"
Dad: "Yes, but son..."

Half-star extra credit for the Donna Reed cameo.

Russ Heath

All American Men of War 100

"Battle of the Sky Chiefs!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Irv Novick

"Ace in Reverse!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jack Abel

Peter: Johnny Cloud is surprised to learn that his squadron has just been joined by a new recruit known to Cloud as Proud Eagle. Years before, Johnny's father was chief of their tribe and Proud Eagle's father, Great Wing, attempted to snatch that crown away. The fight ended in Great Wing's death and Proud Eagle's vow to someday knock Johnny Cloud from his pedestal in a "Battle of the Sky Chiefs!" Despite the differences between the two men, they head off to destroy an enemy dam. When Proud Eagle's jet is damaged and he is faced with retreat, he instead flies into the dam, killing himself and blowing up the dam. Another in the seemingly endless string of tales of braves with chips on their shoulders and Johnny Cloud the target of their spite, "Battle" redeems itself with a knockout punch of an ending. There's no miracle rescue here; Proud Eagle bites the dust but somehow gets what he wanted by proving himself "the better chief" with his sacrifice. This dam looks an awful lot like the one Major Ben Wade blew up last month in "The Brainwashed Jet."

Proud Eagle makes his mark on the terror dam!

Jack: After a dull start with still more air battle action, this story got interesting with an unusually long flashback sequence and a surprise ending. I love when one Indian says to the other, "This prairie is not big enough for the two of us!" With a straight face, yet. The non-Indian members of Johnny Cloud's team call the two Indians "poker faces," which resulted in that stupid song getting stuck in my head.

Peter: Lt. Blake has had such bad luck lately, losing plane after plane, that the boys around the base have dubbed him an "Ace in Reverse!" Desperately trying to shrug off that moniker, Blake heads out on a dangerous mission and is struck by lightning. His plane crashes into the POW camp overseen by German killer ace, Major Von Muller, but flying bullets and exploding oil barrels are not enough to keep Blake from clearing his name. Deadly dull and incredibly lame. Hilarious that Blake manages to crash land his crippled plane in the very camp that the terror of the skies calls home, escape hails of machine gun fire, and blow up an entire runway without so much as a singed eyebrow, but even funnier is the scene where Blake and his rescuing ally, Captain King, hold a conversation as they fly by one another!

Mental telepathy perhaps?

Jack: At the end of the year we get one of the worst stories of 1963. Major von Muller's flying menagerie looks like planes decorated by a kindergarten class. More classic lines from the pen of Hank Chapman: