by Jack Seabrook

First edition

Fans of the popular TV series Mad Men, which portrayed the ups and downs of a New York City advertising agency throughout the turbulent decade of the 1960s, might be surprised to find that life was not all that different in London in 1950, as it is portrayed in Julian Symons's novel, The Thirty-First of February, published in that year.

A brilliant and multi-layered tale of psychological suspense, the story begins at a police inquest following the death on February 4th of Valerie Anderson, the 28-year-old wife of ad executive "Andy" Anderson. The woman fell down the cellar stairs of her home in the dark and her demise is ruled "accidental death" by the coroner.

The bulk of the novel takes place during the four days from February 25th to February 28th, as Anderson returns to work and is slowly driven mad by a series of events. The actions and concerns of his daily life as an ad man are occasionally interrupted by inexplicable oddities, such as his desk calendar that is set to February 4th, the date of his wife's death. Called on to mentor a newly-hired young man named Greatorex, Andy is given the task of developing an ad campaign for a lotion that removes the need for men to shave every day. As the novel unfolds, Andy is portrayed as a man with a "double nature"; he is both a sharp ad man at work and an irresponsible private citizen outside of it. His youth was mundane and he only began to taste success when he found himself working in advertising, where falsehoods and masks are the norm.

Interspersed with the satirical portrait of the advertising industry and Anderson's less than impressive behavior in the evening hours are hints of suspicion about his wife's death. Returning home on the evening of February 25th, Anderson is confronted by his neighbor, Fletchley, who tells him that a police inspector visited that day and asked many questions. Anderson keeps a small notebook hidden in his home, and while he writes that "I can't see why I didn't push her down the stairs long ago," he also notes that, after Valerie's death, he feels an "extraordinary sense of loss." Did Andy kill his wife, or was it merely an unfortunate accident? These questions are of great interest to Inspector Cresse, who pays a call on Andy that night, having received two letters casting suspicion of murder on the widower. Cresse cannot understand why a box of matches was found by the side of Valerie's body and he and Andy banter about the possibility of guilt and the lack of evidence.

1958 paperback edition

On Tuesday the 26th, Anderson awakens after having slept in a room decorated in pink by his late wife. He tests out the lotion for which he is supposed to develop an ad campaign, only to discover that it seems to remove all traces of his beard without the need for shaving. Both the night in the pink room and the removal of his masculine facial hair represent a form of castration for Andy, who goes to work and meets the man who runs the lotion company; there is a suspicion that the lotion is the work of a con artist although, like so much else in the ad industry, exactly what is wrong is hard to pin down. Andy and his colleagues rush around all day keeping busy at meaningless work. Once again, an unexpected and small item throws Andy's day into a tailspin; this time, in his daily office mail, he finds a love letter written by his wife and assumes that it was addressed to another man in the office. That evening, he visits a pub and flirts with Molly, a colleague from the agency, before taking her home where he "coupled with her," his wife's framed photograph falling to the floor and the glass smashing. Early the next morning, Andy awakens to find that he has nearly strangled Molly in bed, having mistaken her for his wife. Andy is fighting both the metaphoric threat of castration and the meaninglessness of his daily life in the world of artifice that is the ad agency.

On his third day back at work, Wednesday the 27th, one of Andy's colleagues decides to call the face lotion "Hey Presto!" Like magic, it is a quick and easy solution to one of the daily annoyances of life, yet is it, like stage magic, merely an illusion? Andy's boss remarks that "there's nobody more easily sold on a simple nostrum for all human ills than a good advertising man . . . because we make such a mess of our own lives." The pressure of the work environment and the small oddities that have made him think someone suspects him of murder begin to wear on Andy, who loses his temper at lunch. He then visits a brothel, where he is a regular customer, and learns that they have assigned to him the code "MM51," which stands for "mild masochism." As he leaves the establishment, he catches a glimpse of Inspector Cresse and realizes that the policeman is keeping an eye on him.

David Wayne as Anderson

That afternoon at the office, he tells one of his colleagues about the letter from Val and then confesses to Molly that he thinks one of the other ad men was his wife's lover. That evening, Anderson's life begins to spin further out of control. He accompanies his boss to the man's home, where he attends a bizarre birthday party for the man's 14-year-old stepdaughter; her mother is chronically ill and her stepfather may be having an illicit relationship with the precocious teenager. Leaving that house, Anderson proceeds to another party, where he gets drunk and ends up punching Fletchley, his neighbor, after the man refers to Valerie's "sudden death." The night only gets worse when Andy returns home to find his house a shambles and Inspector Cresse waiting for him, claiming that the house was burgled by a stranger. Cresse is philosophical, commenting that "the impulse to make disorder out of order" is "the same as the impulse to kill." He appears to facilitate Andy's progression toward breakdown and confession; Andy even associates the rotund policeman with a dominatrix from the brothel, fearing that the man will produce a whip from behind his back.

William Conrad as Cresse

Andy's downfall reaches its conclusion on Thursday, February 28th, when he oversleeps and arrives at work to find that a simple mix-up of two letters has caused the agency to lose an important account. The calendar on his desk now reads February 31st, an impossible date that represents Andy's descent into madness: he is having a mental breakdown in reaction to his work life and his concerns about the investigation into his wife's death. The literal mask of lotion on his face is causing him pain just as the figurative mask he wears at the office each day forces him to behave in ways that cause him harm; by the end of the day, both masks will be removed. His colleagues also wear masks: one frequents the same brothel as Andy yet appears to be happily married, another seems like a kindly older man yet may be having a sexual relationship with his teen aged daughter.

Andy has gone mad

After losing the account, Andy is given a six-month holiday and replaced by a younger man. He escapes into a movie theater, where a mysterious woman who holds his hand in the dark is shown to be drab and ordinary when the lights come up. Outside, he meets Elaine Fletchley, who reveals that Fletchley, Andy's neighbor, was jealous of him and told Inspector Cresse things to make the policeman suspicious; he also sent letters to the police to cast suspicion on Andy as a murderer. She denies that his wife had a lover and Andy goes home to find Molly waiting for him. He rejects her violently before descending into complete madness and being taken away by Inspector Cresse and the police.

The final section of the novel takes place six weeks later, on the 14th of April. Cresse visits a mental hospital with another policeman, and it is revealed that the younger policeman was the young ad man whom Andy was assigned to mentor when he returned to work. The young policeman was responsible for changing Andy's desk calendar and giving him the forged letter from Valerie and he is now uncomfortable about having been made to play a part in driving Anderson to madness. Cresse defends his unorthodox methods but, when he visits Andy and sees that the man's mind is completely gone, he realizes that he must resign from the police force. Andy's guilt remains unproven.

Elizabeth Allen as Molly

The Thirty-First of February is a stunning work of psychological suspense, both a satire of the advertising industry and a portrait of a man being driven mad by suspicion and innuendo. Until the very end, it is not clear whether the events are really happening or whether they are only occurring in Andy's mind, and even when it is revealed that it was all a cruel trick to try to uncover a murderer, the fact remains that the story has brought to light many unsavory aspects of post-war life in London, at least among successful businessmen.

Julian Symons (1912-1994) was one of the most important figures in crime fiction in the twentieth century, both as a prolific novelist and short story writer and as an indefatigable critic. Born in London, he left school at age 14 and founded a poetry magazine in 1937. Though he tried to avoid service in the war as a conscientious objector, he ended up serving in WWII before working as an ad copywriter and eventually turning to fiction. He published dozens of crime novels and short story collections from 1945 to 1994, as well as a considerable amount of non-fiction and criticism. He won two Edgar Awards and was named an MWA Grand Master in 1982. Not much of his fiction was adapted for film or television, and this was his only book to be adapted for the Hitchcock series.

Bob Crane as Lessing

When Alfred Hitchcock Presents expanded to an hour in the fall of 1962 and was renamed The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, the producers made some ambitious choices, trying to adapt great novels of crime and suspense into TV shows of approximately fifty minutes. Like may other episodes in the first season of the hour-long shows, "The Thirty-First of February" demonstrates the problems that can occur when a complex novel is stripped down to its most basic parts to fit a short time slot, with necessary dramatic crescendos every thirteen minutes or so for commercial breaks.

Richard Matheson wrote the teleplay and the show was broadcast on CBS on Sunday, January 4, 1963. Matheson later said that he liked the novel but did not "like what they did to the script," so he asked that his name be removed from the credits and replaced with his pseudonym, Logan Swanson. Without a copy of Matheson's original script to compare with the filmed version, it is not possible to tell if wholesale changes were made, but the speed with which these shows were produced makes it unlikely that the director, Alf Kjellin, made significant alterations. Perhaps Matheson was also unhappy with himself for being unable to convey the depth, intensity and humor of the novel within the limited confines of an hour-long television show.

Kathleen O'Malley as Valerie

As usual, the show is divided into four parts to accommodate commercial breaks. Part one opens with the coroner's inquest, where Anderson explains what happened, narrating the events surrounding Valerie's accident as they are shown in mostly silent flashback. The District Attorney asks why she used matches when there was a flashlight handy; Matheson's script features several instances of characters using matchbooks in order to emphasize the importance of this item to Sergeant (not Inspector) Cresse, who participates in the inquest and who gives Anderson a matchbook at the end of the scene.

Part one continues at the office of Vincent Industrial Design, the office that replaces the Vincent Advertising agency of the novel. In a sponsored show such as The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, Hitchcock could get away with verbal jabs at the advertisers but Matheson could not present an ad agency with anything approaching the vicious satire that Symons uses in his novel. Instead of coming up with ad copy, Anderson designs containers; he is assigned to come up with an exciting, modern package for "Whisker Off," the product that was called "Hey Presto" in the book. Matheson has moved the story's setting from London in 1950 to New York City in 1962, and all of the British references are gone.

The first part includes Anderson's discovery of the date of February 4th on his desk calendar and ends as he returns home in the evening to find Cresse waiting at his house. The sergeant brings up matches again, pointing out that no burnt match was found on the cellar floor near Valerie's body. The first part ends as Anderson asks if he is being accused of murder.

Valerie's broken body

Part two follows Andy's second day at work, as he finds the letter from Valerie to a lover, insists that Molly join him for dinner, and admits to her that "I'm not the most stable person in the world. I had an emotional breakdown during the war. Battle fatigue." He brings Molly home and rants about his late wife's bad taste, remarking that "I should have pushed her down the steps a long time ago" and then failing to clarify his meaning, instead telling Molly that "I should've married a girl like you" and kissing her. She puts him to bed fully dressed, at which point he hallucinates and sees Valerie's face replace Molly's. He tries to strangle her and the second part ends.

This part demonstrates how Matheson's script is like a shorthand version of the novel. Anderson's hidden notebook is replaced by a verbal rant to Molly and (of course) they do not spend the night in bed together; she puts him to bed in a chaste, motherly fashion. Unfortunately, the action is so compressed that some of Andy's actions seem to lack motivation; he is quick to think that someone is out to get him, he blurts out confidential information to Molly, he hallucinates and tries to strangle her. In streamlining the narrative of Symons's novel, Matheson is forced to sacrifice much of the depth that makes it work.

The mannequin Andy thinks is his wife

Falling victim to the most cutting is Part Three, which corresponds to Wednesday in the novel. Back at work, Molly forgives Andy for attacking her the night before. He dictates the letter and memo that will get mixed up and result in his discharge, his colleague tells him that his work is slipping, he begins to rub his face in discomfort, and he returns home to find his house a mess and Cresse again waiting for him. Cresse gives him another matchbook and Andy tells him either to charge him with murder or to get out.

Matheson has deleted much of what happens in this section of the novel. There is no visit to the brothel, the uncomfortable birthday party at the boss's home is removed, and the party where Andy gets drunk and punches Fletchley is nowhere to be found. In fact, the character of Fletchley is entirely absent from the TV show; his role as the man who first sets the police investigation in motion is deleted. The short running time of the TV show makes Matheson focus on hitting all of the key plot points but results in removing much of the novel's character development and psychological nuance.

Andy confuses Molly's face with Valerie's

Things speed up in Part Four, as Matheson has to cover Andy's last day at work and the conclusion at the mental hospital. Andy is at the office, rubbing his face often to show discomfort, when he sees the date of February 31st on his desk calendar. He is put on leave and complains that using Whisker Off has made his face exquisitely tender; that night, he arrives home and has his final breakdown. There is no visit to the movie theater or exchange with Elaine Fletchley, nor does he encounter Molly and throw her out. Instead, he goes straight home, where he finds a strange scene. Valerie's favorite record is playing on the phonograph and dinner is cooking on the range, just as it was the night she died. The door to the cellar stairs is ajar, and Anderson picks up a flashlight and ventures down. He sees his wife's body sprawled on the floor and attacks it, at which point Cresse steps out of the shadows along with another policeman who had been posing as the new man at the office. The body that Andy attacks is a mannequin made up to look like his wife. Andy snaps and rushes at the policemen, at which point there is a cut to the scene six weeks later, when Cresse visits the mental hospital.

The conclusion of the show tracks that of the novel, with a matchbook falling through a hole in Cresse's coat pocket onto the floor, leading him to realize that there may have been an innocent explanation for the matchbook found on the cellar floor. A close up of Cresse's face ends the show, as he wonders if he has driven an innocent man to madness.

"The Thirty-First of February" is an attempt to adapt a brilliant novel into a fifty-minute television show and, by necessity, much of the book's richness is gone. The acting is fine, though David Wayne, as Anderson, is asked to make so many swift changes in personality that it sometimes strains believability. The direction by Alf Kjellin is unremarkable, for the most part, though there are a few highlights: the trips down to the cellar at the start and end of the show are atmospheric, the trick shot when Molly's face is replaced by Valerie's works reasonably well, and Anderson's final scene in the mental hospital is effective.

Cresse realizes what he has done

Alf Kjellin (1920-1988) was born in Sweden and started out in the movies in 1937 as an actor. He began acting on TV in 1952 and continued until 1979. He started directing films in 1955 and worked as a director on American television from 1961 to 1985, concurrent with his work as an actor. He directed one episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents and eleven episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, including "Isabel"; he also appeared in one of the hour-long shows as an actor.

Born Wayne McMeekan in Michigan, David Wayne (1914-1995) served in the Army in WWII, appeared on Broadway, and was a member of the Actor's Studio. His film and television career stretched from 1944 to 1987. He made many appearances on episodic TV, including twice on the Hitchcock show. He was on The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery and he played the Mad Hatter on Batman. He is fondly remembered for his role as Inspector Queen, Ellery's father, in the short-lived Ellery Queen TV series (1975-1976).

William Conrad (1920-1994), who plays Sergeant Cresse, possessed one of the great voices in American radio and television, playing Marshall Dillon on the radio series Gunsmoke from 1952 to 1962 and narrating The Fugitive on TV from 1963 to 1967. He starred in Cannon (1971-1976), Nero Wolfe (1981), and Jake and the Fatman (1987-1992). Born in Kentucky, he may not always have been as corpulent as he was by the time he became a TV star, since he was a fighter pilot in WWII. This was his only appearance on the Hitchcock series.

Receiving third billing in the credits is Elizabeth Allen (1929-2006), who plays Molly. She was born Elizabeth Gillease in New Jersey and her career on screen lasted from 1952 to 1995. This was her only appearance on the Hitchcock show, but she was also seen on The Twilight Zone and in two of the best episodes of Thriller: "The Hungry Glass" and "The Grim Reaper."

Robert Carson as the coroner

Bob Crane (1928-1978) plays Lessing, who has the office next to Anderson. Born in Connecticut, Crane worked as a radio host before his career on screen began in 1961 with an uncredited role as a disc jockey on The Twilight Zone episode, "Static." This was his only appearance on the Hitchcock series, but he was a regular on The Donna Reed Show (1963-65), starred in Hogan's Heroes (1965-71), appeared on Night Gallery, and starred in The Bob Crane Show (1975) before being murdered in 1978.

Other familiar faces in this episode include Robert Carson (1909-1979), who plays the coroner.

"The Thirty-First of February" is not yet available on DVD, nor is it available for viewing online.

Sources:
Bradley, Matthew R. Richard Matheson on Screen: A History of the Filmed Works. Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2010. Print.
Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation. Web. 5 Dec. 2016.

In two weeks: Our series on writer James Bridges begins with "A Tangled Web," starring Robert Redford and Zohra Lampert!


Richard Matheson on Alfred Hitchcock Presents: An Overview and Episode Guide

Richard Matheson only wrote two episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour and none for Alfred Hitchcock Presents. "Ride the Nightmare" was an adaptation of his own novel and "The Thirty-First of February" was an adaptation of a novel by Julian Symons. Both teleplays suffer from trying to compress novel-length stories into fifty-minute time slots, and neither represents anything more than an average to below-average episode of the hour-long series. It's too bad that Matheson was not tapped to write any of the half-hour shows, because--as he showed with his scripts for The Twilight Zone--he excelled in that format.

We proudly present our favorites from 2016!*


Movies (including DVD and Blu-Ray releases):

Peter's picks -

John's picks-

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story - I had mentioned to Peter that The Force Awakens, which I enjoyed, did not make it on to my end of year list last year. As of this writing, I’ve seen Rogue One three times, and I’m very much a fan of Gareth Edwards ‘standalone’ film (but seriously, who are we kidding? This prologue to the original Star Wars is as SAGA as a film can get!). I miss John Williams’ music, and the punctuation he often brought to emotional scenes. Michael Giacchino’s score is fine, with only one significant mis-step (the almost-use of the Star Wars theme when the opening title appears onscreen). From here on out, my comments will contain spoilers, so skip ahead if you’ve yet to see the film (and still plan to). There were only a few bits of Original Trilogy pandering that bothered me (the Mos Eisley cantina patrons on the streets of Jedha, and the droids in the hangar on Yavin). After my first viewing (where I spent far too much time scrutinizing the digital Cushing), I was fine with the use of CG characters. It was also a nice change of pace to have a strategic space battle that wasn’t limited to repeated refrains of ‘give it all you’ve got!’ that plagued The Force Awakens. I never imagined we’d have a Star Wars film in which all of our protagonists die (most in big explosions, with the most poignant death occurring right before your eyes), so that was a bit of a surprise. And let’s face it, the payoff for most of the fanboys is in the last minutes of the film - finally providing what nearly 10 years of prequel films teased but never delivered. Darth Vader’s rampage will likely be the most re-watched moments of this film, and lead into many a future screening of the original Star Wars.

Ghostbusters IMAX 3D - By no means the best film of the year, seeing Ghostbusters in IMAX 3D is the first time I’ve walked out of an IMAX 3D screening saying that it truly improved upon the experience. A combination of amazing visual effects (the ghosts are fantastic) and a great implementation of 3D (elements regularly break the 2.35:1 anamorphic frame as they literally pop off of the screen (example below, though the 2D image doesn't do the technique justice). The good news is the home video version in Blu Ray 3D retains these enhancements, making it a must own film for Blu Ray 3D enthusiasts. As for the film itself, I found it entertaining, and suspect I would have been far less impressed with a 2D presentation.


Phantasm Remastered - My first experience with Phantasm was as a VHS rental back in the day, and ever since it has been one of my all-time favorite horror films. It’s been long awaited on Blu Ray, and the wait was well worth it. J.J. Abrams, also a fan of the series, mounted a restoration to restore the film to its original glory. It’s better looking, and much better sounding, than any prior release. While I was disappointed that we didn’t get a chance to see this new edition theatrically, the Blu Ray more than does it justice. If you consider yourself a fan of the film (if not the franchise, including the installment that helped bring about this Blu Ray release: Phantasm Ravager), then you owe it to yourself to experience it like this.


Neon Demon - Last year I called out Under the Skin and It Follows as two of my favorite films, and this year, Neon Demon is the latest in that thread of unique, thought-provoking indie horror films. It looks and sounds beautiful; the Dario Argento inspired visuals are often breathtaking. And like many of Argento’s films, the audio-visual experience makes up for any shortcomings in the story department.

Tenebrae - Speaking of Argento, Synapse Films treats us to a fantastic new Blu Ray remaster of one of his most accessible films. While it doesn’t quite reach the heights of Suspiria or Inferno, along with Opera it’s one of my favorite Argento films.


Carnival of Souls - My love for Carnival of Souls goes way back, to the days of staying up late to watch Creature Features. While it didn’t have the same impact as Night of the Living Dead, it certainly had its share of haunting moments that reminded me of that film, such as the dark eyed carnival patrons chasing poor Candace Hilligoss across a sandy beach. I’ve had the Criterion DVD since it was released, and did not hesitate to pick up the Blu Ray immediately (though it certainly didn’t hurt that it came out during one of Barnes & Noble’s twice-annual 50% off sales!). Again, for a film that languished in the public domain, it it such a treat to see it preserved so clearly and crisply.


Jose's picks-

Blue Car (2002)

This movie, about a gifted high school poet who finds herself becoming attracted to her English teacher, a man she sees not just in a romantic context but a means to absolve herself of an empty life with a single mother and a troubled little sister, is a harrowing tale viewed through gentle eyes, a delicate portrayal of indelicate turmoil. The kind of movie that discomforts you and saddens you then buoys you with hope because of how unadorned and plainly real it all feels.

Experimenter (2015)

Based on the famous experiments of social psychologist Stanley Milgrim, Michael Almereyda’s fractured biography is preoccupied with the implications of Milgrim’s obedience tests and the ways in which humans can be manipulated rather than the minutiae of its subject’s life, and for that it is all the richer and more provocative.

The Family Stone (2005)

My wife has been singing the praises of this holiday film for years and I only just got around to watching it with her the other week. Suffice to say, her tastes can be pretty impeccable. Heart-warming without being schmaltzy, life-affirming without being forced, and tenderly subtle in all the right places, Thomas Bezucha’s story unfolds like a compact stage drama where you become deeply invested in every whole-and-breathing character and are swept up in the moments of snowy quietude that allow you to pause, sit back, and take in your life and all the beautiful and tragic things that come along for the ride.

Five (1951)

Though mostly known for his work as a radio dramatist, Arch Oboler took several forays into the world of cinema on occasion, of which this is his fourth as director. Framing a tale of the apocalypse in a black-and-white no man’s land that feels prescient of the barren vistas later seen in Night of the Living Dead (1968) and Carnival of Souls (1962), this moving piece manages to feel full of heart in one moment and completely unsentimental the next, as apt a mood as anything else to depict the fickle nature of dumb, blind Fate working in the wake of man's self-immolation.

The Goodbye Girl (1977)

I was turned on to this title after reading excerpts from Neil Simon’s memoir, The Play Goes On. Something about the way he related the effusive charm of lead actors Marsha Mason and Richard Dreyfuss just made me want to seek this one out, and I’m glad I did.  Their scenes together produce the same snap-crackle-pop effect as those of Grant and Hepburn, the ritzy glamour of those old Hollywood stars traded in for a more immediate earthiness in keeping with 1970s cinema. And damn it all if I wasn’t just as overjoyed as Marsha by the movie’s ending.

Hardware (1990)

While the scrambled egg that was Dust Devil (1992) left me a little cool on Richard Stanley’s filmography, I delved into what might be considered the filmmaker’s most widely-revered title after hearing some good word of mouth from trusted sources. This is another movie that depicts a dying world, but one populated by the kind of scroungers, shysters, and overall degenerates that we’ve come to associate with this type of menagerie. Add to that steaming mix an intelligent robot-cum-art piece that like the Terminator will just… not… stop… moving but unlike that famous android goes about his killing business with much more rampant glee and arterial spray and you have a toxic sludge cocktail that’ll scramble up your brain-pan in all the best ways.


Heat (1995)

If I had to winnow down a list of dramatic moments that remain endlessly compelling to me, the One on One scene would probably be at the very top. What do I mean when I say that? Think of all those wonderful exchanges you get when you put Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty in a room together, or Batman and the Joker. The clash of Big Ideas and opposing ideals. Drama boiled down to its primary molecule. The fact that Michael Mann’s Heat has one of the best One on One scenes easily made it an entrant on this list, but it has more than enough class and precision and thrills to secure a spot in anyone’s esteem.

Hoffa (1992)

I’ve only seen one other film directed by Danny DeVito—the still-adorable Matilda (1996)—but watching Hoffa has made me want to fill in the few remaining gaps left in his oeuvre. Conducted with the same visual flair and one-two punch of dialogue that characterized Old Hollywood, this film is a more “traditional” biography than the Almereyda that courses the (literal) trials and tribulations of the historic union-enforcer, a role played to the perfect degree of brashness and dignity by Jack Nicholson. Even though I knew how everything would pan out, relatively speaking, the ending still grabbed me by the short hairs.

The King of Comedy (1983)

A rare black comedy with actual teeth, Scorsese’s film piles one terribly awkward moment upon the other like a house of cards, one that can collapse at any second from the faintest breeze. And with Rupert Pupkin as our Everyman, we kind of wish that it would at times, if only so that this sad, annoying little joke-slinger could get the reality check that he so desperately needs. If it weren’t for that unmistakable voice, there’d be little to tell that this preserving creep was played by Robert De Niro, so unusual is Pupkin from the actor’s other roles. The NY thespian accomplishes here that most enviable balance, that of repelling the audience with his fanciful ignorance and gall yet still managing to allow them to recognize in him every crazy dream and whim they ever entertained.

The Man from U. N. C. L. E. (2015)

Guy Ritchie proves again his affinity for and considerable skill at crafting an engaging buddy actioner in the spirit of his Sherlock Holmes films. One needn’t be familiar with the original television series on which this is based to enjoy this swanky popcorn flick, as I was not. Ritchie has a real eye for high-octane set pieces, and while there isn’t anything here that will literally take your breath away, you still have to give the man props for orchestrating and coordinating a climactic car chase that is not only expertly paced but also (thank the Lord!) comprehensible. The repartee between Henry Cavill as the suave CIA agent and Armie Hammer as the brusque KGB operative are a heck of a lot of fun, as is much of the movie.

Monster (2003)

Sticking to the major facts in the case of Aileen Wuornos, the infamous serial killer who haunted the Florida interstate from 1989 to 1990, Patty Jenkins’ film is justly lauded for the Oscar-winning performance from Charlize Theron as the titular criminal, but Christina Ricci delivers an exceptional performance in her own right, playing Aileen’s lover-on-the-lam Selby, a young woman desperate to prove herself capable but who becomes caught up in a ceaseless torrent of deceptions and realities that she doesn’t have the strength to face. Scott Wilson, who himself played a banally evil killer in In Cold Blood, makes a heartbreaking appearance as one of Aileen’s victims.

Seven Psychopaths (2012)

Martin McDonagh is the madman of Broadway. Having penned uncompromising and delirious plays like The Pillowman and The Lieutenant of Inishmore, he tried his hand at filmmaking with 2008’s In Bruges, a movie I enjoyed considerably. Seven Psychopaths brings back Colin Farrell from that film and Christopher Walken from the playwright’s 2010 psychodrama, A Behanding in Spokane. Seven Psychopaths has all the requisite profuse swearing and sharp violence of McDonagh’s other work, but what enthralls the most is the self-effacing manner in which the director uses the film to comment on all the tropes beloved to himself and the crime/action genres while also being an example of that very thing. Meditative, mordantly funny, and quite definitely mad in its own charming ways.

Sleuth (1972)

Deathtrap, another entry from my beloved subgenre of the “stagey” thriller, made my Best Of list last year, so it only seems fitting that Sleuth, the other Michael Caine mystery vehicle, should appear in this 2016 list. Caine takes on the role of debonair Lothario for Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s adaptation of Anthony Shaffer’s play here, playing opposite Laurence Olivier’s flamboyant, archaic writer of fuddy duddy detective fiction. The tension isn’t drawn out quite as exquisitely as in Deathtrap, and the “second act” hinges on a deception that will seem fairly obvious to most, but things come to a nice scalding boil during the climax when one can’t be sure just what is the truth and what is all part of the great game.


The Witch (2015)

Seldom is the chance that I get to go to the local cineplex on my birthday to see a film that I’m genuinely interested in, so far be it from me to have taken this special opportunity for granted when a bedeviling, literate horror film reared its horned head at exactly the same time I was set to celebrate my 25th year on this earth. Folks might have found Robert Eggers’ film a little too classical and simmering to qualify under their classification of horror—as did some of the companions who attended the showing with me—but if you ask me this is the kind of approach the genre deserves: restrained, measured, lofty, with an eye for the beauty inherent in even the most loathsome subject, punctuated by bursts of profoundly unsettling imagery. Word on the street is that Eggers has been appointed to helm a remake of Nosferatu, and while the notion of recycling used goods might put a damper on others’ enthusiasm for his next outing, I’m of a confident mind that Eggers will deliver something quite special. Now let’s just hope it gets released in time for my 27th birthday.

Jack's picks-

The Finest Hours. The true story of a heroic rescue by the Coast Guard off Cape Cod during a terrible storm in 1952. Chris Pine and Casey Affleck star in an exciting period piece with great scenes in the ocean.

Eye in the Sky. Helen Mirren stars in a topical story about the ethics of drone warfare. Alan Rickman’s last film and a worthy sendoff for a talented actor.

Sing Street. My favorite movie of 2016 and the only one I saw twice, this coming of age story is set in the 1980s in Dublin. A teen aged boy tries to impress a pretty girl by asking her to be in his band’s new video. When she tentatively agrees, he has to put together a band from misfits in his school. A very funny and heartwarming film with a terrific soundtrack. If you haven’t seen it, stop reading and do so now!

Finding Dory. My second favorite movie of 2016, the sequel to Finding Nemo is a delight from start to finish. Pixar has a knack for creating great characters and telling wonderful stories and this film is one of their best. And that’s saying something!

Captain Fantastic. Viggo Mortenson plays a man who is raising his kids alone off the grid. His wife dies of cancer and he has to decide whether to re-enter American society and take the kids to the funeral. This is a thought-provoking film about how we raise our children, what we do to them and why.

Julieta. Pedro Almodovar is one of the great filmmakers working today and this is his best film in years. A middle-aged woman who has not seen her daughter in years thinks back through the events of her life and we slowly learn how things got broken. Pedro is in a thoughtful mood this time around and the film avoids the craziness of some of his more extreme work. The acting is great and there is a scene on a train at night that will haunt you.

Sully. Who would have thought that Clint Eastwood would turn out to be one of our most talented and reliable directors in his later years? Tom Hanks stars as the airline pilot who managed to land a jet on the Hudson River when both engines were wrecked by birds. The investigation into whether he could have made it to an airport is harrowing and the film is satisfying from start to finish.

The Magnificent Seven. Antoine Fuqua remakes the 1960 western and improves on the original, with Denzel Washington leading a diverse cast and Chris Pratt on hand for comedy relief. The gunfights are exciting and the final battle a real treat. Not many westerns get made these days, but this one is a lot of fun.

Manchester By the Sea. Every year, dramas get released just in time for the Oscar nominations, and this one is certainly going to be a contender. Casey Affleck carries the film and yes, it’s another trip to the blue-collar side of Bahston, Mass., but the emotional weight carried by the story is undeniable.



TV Series:

Peter's picks-

Braquo
Happy Valley
Marcella
Spiral (Engrenages)

TV crime dramas just seem to be getting darker and darker every year... and that's okay. I prefer my murder grimy and gritty rather than solved by the two old ladies and their cat and these four shows (all returning series save newcomer Marcella) offer up the best and the bleakest. The other constant in all four is the presence of a strong (in some cases, brutal) female lead, perhaps none better than Caroline Poust in Spiral, who balances a screwed-up private life and a not-much-better work ethic.

Bloodlines
Friday Night Lights


How in the world could a show as dark as Bloodlines get even darker? Surely, climaxing your first season with your main character murdering his own brother is about as grim as a drama can get, no? No. In the second season of Netflix's Bloodlines, we watch as John Rayburn, piece by piece, goes just a little madder with each succeeding episode. You can feel a little isolated when your co-conspirators in murder plot against you but when those former allies are your sister and surviving brother, it can lead to more than just awkwardness at the Thanksgiving table. Performances are stellar all-around but Kyle Chandler is the obvious stand-out here as the cornered John; with the law closing in and his siblings offering him up, he has no choice but to... The third season can't get here fast enough.

Watching Kyle Chandler in action again made me more than just a bit nostalgic for one of my favorite shows of all time, Friday Night Lights. Yep, it's been gone for over five years now but FNL has lost none of its luster for me; if anything it gets better with age. Over a three-week period (with breaks only for work, eating, and this boring writing stuff), I relived all 76 episodes from Coach Taylor's inaugural season with the Dillon Panthers to his new beginnings in Philly and loved every minute... except for most of the minutes that made up the horrid second season but let's forget about that. As noted, I love grim and dark TV but there's something special about this show and its ability to make you forget all the bad shit happening outside your front door, without the pandering most "family dramas" commit. For all the wonderful things that happened in the series finale to all these characters we grew to love, I want more. I want to know what Matt and Julie are up to in Chicago, if Tyra and Tim are still together, and how many States Coach Taylor has won in the interim. Are you listening, Netflix? "Clear eyes, full hearts... can't lose!"

The Defenders (1961)

Perhaps the best discovery I made this year, as far as home video goes, was Shout Factory's release of the first season of The Defenders. Unjustly forgotten fifty-five years later (in fact, if you do an IMDB search on the title, the upcoming Netflix superhero show gets all the love), the courtroom drama ran only four seasons and was Emmy-nominated for Best Show every year (winning three consecutive trophies), with lead E.G. Marshall also taking home the prize for Best Actor twice. Creator Reginald Rose sidestepped the Perry Mason approach and gifted his two lead characters (father and son defense attorneys) with faults, indecision, and open eyes. The show tackled pretty heady stuff for Kennedy-era TV, including abortion, pedophilia, and war crimes. I'm hoping the reception given to this first set nudges Shout to release the remaining three seasons as I've heard the show only gets better!

Scott and Bailey
Doctor Foster

Full disclosure: I am in love with Suranne Jones, star of Brit dramas Scott and Bailey and Doctor Foster. Unfortunately, Suranne's bodyguards know all about me so the closest I can get to the gorgeous brunette is my TV screen. For now, that will do. It's been said that the fifth season of S&B is the final one, which is a shame since it seems like it was just getting to the good stuff, but at least Foster (a huge hit for the Beeb) has been greenlit for a second series in '17.


John's picks-


Game of Thrones - What can be said about GoT that hasn’t been said so many times before? The show just continues to impress with each new season, and it’s exciting to see things setting up for what surely will be an epic climax. Any concerns about the show runners losing their way without Martin’s novels to guide them were quickly washed away this season. I’m going to miss it when it’s gone, and only wish more shows would take a lesson from it (I’m talking to you, Walking Dead - take a look at how things can happen in every episode that propel the story forward, rather than taking a baby-step over the course of an entire season).


Con Man - I had the pleasure of meeting Alan Tudyk last year, before he would be forever linked to a character he played in a Star Wars film, at an event celebrating the DVD/Blu Ray release of his web series, Con Man. I hadn’t previously heard much about it, but after watching an online trailer I thought it was right up my alley. It didn’t disappoint. If you were a fan of Firefly, and have any experience in the Comic/SF convention scene, you’ll find plenty to appreciate in this series. There are a number of great cameos along the way, but credit must be given to Tudyk, who is great in this semi-autobiographical role of a former star of a hit sci-fi series relegated to making convention appearances between the occasional acting role.


Black Mirror - I had long heard about Charlie Booker’s series Black Mirror, and it took me a while to pick up the show and make time to watch it. I was quite pleasantly surprised that it not only lived up to the high marks given to it by a number of friends, but it managed to exceed my expectations. The first two series were three episodes each, followed by a feature length special. It deserves better than to just be described as a Twilight Zone for the digital age, but that at least gives you a sense of what to expect. The best episodes are fantastic, and my least favorite of the initial two series were still better than most genre television. I have yet to sign up for Netflix to check out the newly produced third series episodes, but I’m confident that they will not disappoint, either.

Dark Shadows - Years ago, in the heyday of Blockbuster Video, they used to carry VHS episodes of the Dark Shadows soap available for rent. While each store might only have 4-5 volumes, if you went to every Blockbuster in your geographic area, you might find a decent selection of the first few dozen tapes. Bear in mind, these were the episodes following the arrival of Barnabas Collins; MPI had not yet completed their VHS run, so the release of the pre-Barnabas episodes was a ways off. Well, I went on a quest to rent and watch those initial tapes (not really realizing that there was no way I’d ever get to see all 1225 episodes in that fashion). The good news is, I liked what I saw. I had watched re-runs of the soaps on our local station (Channel 20) in the 80s, and remembered the Adam (aka Frankenstein) storyline. But the early black and white episodes really caught my attention. Flash forward to years later, when MPI begins releasing DVD sets of ~40 episodes at a time. I figured that if I bought them as they came out (and at a reasonable discount), I could keep up with them. Well, I did, and I ended up with a full run, which I probably watched 60 or so episodes of. Meanwhile, I started lending them to my sister to watch, and the next thing you know, she watched them all. Then came the Early Years DVD releases, and ultimately the complete series set (which my sister picked up so she’d have a set of her own). Well, to make a long story longer, she pointed out how this year was the 50th anniversary, and cajoled me into blogging about the show, as we had done with prior shows like Thriller, The Outer Limits, and Kolchak. What’s amazing to me is that we’re now 120+ episodes into the 1225 episode run, and I’m really enjoying the show. Fortunately, I got my sister to come on board to work on the blog with me, and she does a lot to make each post more visually appealing. And Barnabas hasn’t even arrived yet (he will next Spring)! We’ve basically signed up for a five year mission, so we’ll see if I’m still singing the show’s praises this time next year! In the mean time, you can check out our blog here: http://dsb4idie.blogspot.com/
Jose's picks-


Breaking Bad / Better Call Saul

Without a doubt one of the most satisfying viewing experiences I had this year was when I finally undertook Breaking Bad in its entirety after vicariously seeing bits and pieces of it during my wife’s first go-round with the show. I was frequently in awe of it, of its constant propulsion, of its unflinching standards of never giving its characters the easy way out. It’s the televisual equivalent of a rabid page-turner, legitimately Tragic in its dramatic arc. I can’t tell you how much it pleases me to be in the grip of a story like this; few feelings in the world can match it. Quite wisely, the prologue to our tale, Better Call Saul, doesn’t try to match Bad tit for tat. It’s smaller and more intimate in its own way, not quite as focused on the gritty machinations of the criminal underworld (at least not for now), but it still has that arid desert noir cinematography from Bad that I adore, all those piercing blue skies and sharp shadows and opaque sunlight that instantly bring me back to the scant three months I lived out in California and Arizona. Even with the stakes relatively lower by comparison, Better Call Saul proves that it’s got enough intrigue and genuine, meaty plotting to give you the same high as its lauded sister show.


Luke Cage

The Netflix efforts of Marvel Studios consistently please, and this season’s debut of Luke Cage into the fray certainly continued the trend. Appropriately it has more swagger than either Daredevil or Jessica Jones, which keeps it from ever getting too turgid, and we thankfully get a break from ninja cults and super-powered megalomaniacs to concentrate instead on the question of what exactly makes a hero. (Many comic book stories translated to the screen, whether it be the silver or the small, tend to promote and pimp their lineup of villains and their inevitable clash with the hero, and while that can be quite enjoyable, those confrontations rarely if ever emphasize the emotional qualities needed for the hero to put themselves in harm’s way time and time again.) And even though we have our standard crooked politicians and nightclub-owners-cum-gangsters standing in for the mutant monstrosity we would normally see, the conflict in Luke Cage really boils down to how the world reacts to the badgeless enforcer. The “martyr or menace” dichotomy isn’t new to this kind of story at all, but Luke Cage manages to make it feel fresh and even vital at times, particularly in touching and affecting scenes like when Cage faces down a gunman outside a Crispus Attucks monument and the scene of the NYPD honing in on suspects that essentially match the description of “black man in a hoodie.” In more ways than one, this is a Marvel story with soul.

Malcolm in the Middle

The other show where Bryan Cranston plays a crazed husband and father. This was always a program that I remained tangentially aware of but never bothered watching because I figured it was probably the same kind of comedy fluff with the occasional chuckle that proliferated cable television. The defining quality and key word that I would say separates Malcolm from all those other programs is "manic." Roles are played big and at high decibels for comedic effect, yet the show frequently manages to be pretty damn witty and even poignant at certain times, particularly during scenes when Malcolm, our Narrator through this familiar town called Family, is made to face his own pettiness and self-righteousness, proving that the road to maturity is often riddled with reflective pit stops that force you to examine the ugliness in your own heart. So, in other words, it's hilarious!

Nurse Jackie

Like United States of Tara, a top TV pick from my Best of 2015 post, Nurse Jackie secures a place of honor in my annual assessment on the strength of the performance from its leading lady, in this case being the contributions of Edie Falco. Through seven seasons we watch as Falco’s titular caregiver consistently wheedles and deceives and seduces just about everyone within her circle of family and friends in order to get the fix of painkillers to which she has become so hopelessly addicted. And though she shows just about as much remorse for her actions as Bryan Cranston’s drug baron from Breaking Bad, we also see Jackie perform incredible acts of kindness and mercy throughout her tenure at All Saints’ Hospital, a profession to which she seems to have been truly made for, so in the end we cannot loath her entirely for her bouts of mania and manipulation. Like all great stories, Nurse Jackie forces us to stay the stones in our hands and find the human within the failure.



A Young Doctor’s Notebook 

This quirky series from the BBC was one of the more interesting discoveries the wife and I made when we started watching it on a whim one night. Based on the autobiographical short story collection by Russian author Mikhail Bulgakov, A Young Doctor’s Notebook follows the hellish and comedic (frequently both simultaneously) travails of a smooth-faced whelp fresh from university who gets stuck with the onerous task of manning a hospital in the frozen wastes just outside of Nowhere, Russia, an assignment that leads him to deal with the isolation by taking frequent doses of morphine. Daniel Radcliffe, who had yet to really leave an impression on me with any of his work, proves himself quite adept at comedy in his role as the over-tasked and under-stimulated Young Doctor while Jon Hamm acquits himself admirably as the drugged-out Older Doctor. For viewers who enjoy television that dips into the pools of black humor and tragedy at a frequent pace and can never be depended on what will happen next, this show is just what the physician ordered.

Jack's picks-

Broadchurch. I wondered how there could be a follow up to the first series, which was outstanding. Leave it to David Tennant—who seems like he can do no wrong—to lead a second series that was just as engrossing as the first, as the townspeople of Broadchurch deal with the fallout and trial of the (alleged) child killer.

Happy Valley. Another show that kept up the quality in its second series, this one managed to surprise me at every turn. Sally Wainwright’s scripts are adult without always being dark and depressing, despite some very troubling subjects. Sarah Lancashire is fantastic as Catherine Cawood and James Norton is chilling as Tommy Lee Royce. It was very difficult to see him as the gentle country vicar on PBS’s Grantchester after seeing him on Happy Valley.

Doc Martin. Thank goodness they went ahead and made a seventh series, because Doc Martin is consistently one of the funniest and most enjoyable shows on TV. Martin Clunes and Caroline Catz are perfect as the unhappily married Martin and Louisa and the setting on the coast of Cornwall is gorgeous.

Scott & Bailey. Peter turned me on to this great detective series, starring Suranne Jones and Lesley Sharp as police detectives in the north of England. Each of the five series has an overarching storyline and the characters are flawed but fascinating. Sally Wainwright again showed how good she is at writing scripts featuring interesting female characters.

Elementary. One of the few network shows I still watch, Elementary is like visiting with old friends every week. Jonny Lee Miller is a great Sherlock Holmes and Lucy Liu as Joan Watson is smart and funny. The mysteries are never very hard to solve but at this point it doesn’t matter, since it’s the interplay among the regulars that makes the show worthwhile.

Flash. Seasons 2 & 3 have not lived up to season 1 but, as with Elementary, it’s the regular characters that count. When Flash went to Earth-2, my DC-comics loving heart leaped in my chest, and Tom Cavanagh is a revelation as various versions of Harrison Wells. His current character, “H.R.,” hails from Earth-19 and is a riot to watch.

Call the Midwife. Is there a more emotionally affecting show on TV? Not in my book. The 5th series brought the midwives of London’s East End into the early ‘60s, as they started encountering thalidomide babies. This is the only show that brings me near (or to) tears on a regular basis.

Person of Interest. Like my dear, departed Fringe, Person of Interest managed to produce a 5th season that was only half as long as usual, but it was worth it. Despite CBS’s bizarre decision to run the shows twice a week and get them over with as quickly as possible, the conclusion of the story of Mr. Reese and Mr. Finch, with the added characters of Root and Shaw, was eminently satisfying. America may be safe for the time being, but this show was always strangely prescient about the dangers we face in a world where everything is electronically connected. And is there a more exciting female character on any show than Amy Acker’s Root?

The Night Manager. A 6-episode mini-series based on a novel by John LeCarre, this was smooth, great to look at, and addictive. Tom Hiddleston showed that he’s much more than just Loki and Hugh Laurie showed how charming evil can be. LeCarre’s ability to ratchet up suspense was on display.

Dr. Foster. Suranne Jones, from Scott & Bailey, was great as the title wife who begins to suspect her husband of infidelity when she finds a blonde hair on his coat. Watching her slowly come unglued is fascinating, and there is an extended family dinner scene that would make anyone squirm. I can’t wait for series two!

Funniest TV scene of the year was Fox Mulder eating mushrooms and dancing to "Achy-Breaky Heart" on a bizarre sequence on the X-Files:



Books:

Peter's picks-


The Shadow in Review by John Olsen. For his massive look at the legendary pulp character, author Olsen read every one of the Shadow's 325 pulp adventures twice! Olsen gives us synopsis, critical commentary, and bits of trivia on each one of the stories. You have to admire the dedication and then you have to support this kind of mania. 530 trade paperback pages for a lousy ten bucks! Buy it here.

Forgotten Horrors Vol. 8: The Resurrection of Edgar Allan Poe by Michael H. Price. The eighth in the long-running Forgotten Horrors series chronicles horror flicks from 1960 and 1961, with a special emphasis on Roger Corman's Poe flicks. Forget the "Forgotten," as this pretty much covers it all, from the obscure (Ma Barker's Killer Brood) to the well-remembered (Bava's Black Sunday). Price mixes humor with intelligent commentary and cooks up an entertaining and educational read.

Noir City Annual 8,  Edited by Eddie Muller. My Best-of list wouldn't be complete without Muller's latest, another compilation of the best reviews and examinations of Film Noir, past and present, culled from his quarterly e-zine. Two highlights (among many) are Steve Kronenberg's insightful argument for Dirty Harry as neo-noir (I, for one, concur) and Vince Keenan's roundtable discussion with five female noir writers. Cover to cover, Noir City is always thought-provoking and informative; I keep a notepad nearby and it's filled with new "wants" by the time I've digested Noir City's bulk.

70s Monster Memories, edited by Eric McNaughton. An exhaustive 400-page, full-color paradise that will have you reading well into the morning hours. McNaughton, editor of the British horror fanzine, We Belong Dead, manages to squeeze in what seems like every single detail concerning horror in the 1970s: films, mags, music, comics, you name it. The single best book I bought this year. 


John's picks-

Shinji Nishikawa Drawings of Godzilla - Shinji Nishikawa is an artist who created concepts for the Heisei and Millennium era Godzilla movies (1984-1995 and 2000-2004). He was responsible for several of my favorite Godzilla creatures, notably including Biollante. I had the pleasure of meeting him a few years ago and was able to commission an original sketch of Godzilla and Biollante which I treasure. A new Japanese book highlights his artwork - including his Godzilla work and beyond. He’s a truly amazing talent, and this collection is well worth tracking down.

The Babadook - Two years ago, I walked out of a screening of The Babadook saying, someone really needs to make a copy of the pop-up book prop from the film. A quick online search led me to a campaign by the filmmaker to do just that. While I had missed out on the initial signed/numbered edition, I was able to spend $80 to get an identical copy, albeit just signed and not numbered. That was a nice bonus, but certainly not as critical to me as having a copy of the book. Well, almost two years later, the book landed on my porch last month, and I have to say, with the help of the folks at Insight Editions, they did an amazing job. So much so that copies that went up on eBay were quickly selling for hundreds of dollars (and in at least one case, a thousand dollars!).


Eccentric Orbits by John Bloom - For a brief period during our run on The Scream Factory, I was a member of the Horror Committee of Joe Bob Briggs Board of Drive-In Movie Experts. It was great fun, and the best perk was getting copies of Joe Bob’s bi-weekly newsletter (initially titled We Are the Weird, later The Joe Bob Report). I loved Joe Bob’s Drive-In movie reviews, as well as his social commentary, and read all of his books. So when I heard his close personal friend (aka alter-ego John Bloom) had a new book out, and he was coming to our town for a signing, I knew I couldn’t pass it up. I read a bit about the book - having to do with the Iridium Satellite Phone System - but wasn’t too concerned about the details. At the signing, Joe Bob told the story of this amazing technology that after making major technological leaps, was hours from being de-orbited before being saved by a businessman from Florida. The tale was captivating, and so I enthusiastically jumped into the book when we got home from the event, and was pleasantly surprised by just how good a book it is. John Bloom did a ton of research, and lest you think the material comes across as dry, it’s quite the opposite. It’s rich in history and intrigue, and well worth checking out.

Star Wars Art: Ralph McQuarrie - Full disclosure here - I served as a consultant on this project, having worked with Ralph McQuarrie for 16 years and published a number of books of our own on his Star Wars and non-Star Wars art. But putting that aside, I can say without question that this two volume, 800 page monolith is the most comprehensive collection of Ralph McQuarrie Star Wars artwork you will ever see. And while it is not inexpensive, it is worth every penny for fans of Star Wars, Ralph McQuarrie, or anyone interested in the artistic process. Hundreds of pieces of artwork appear in this volume for the first time, and even the most familiar drawings and paintings have been meticulously rescanned expressly for this publication. In addition to details about the particular pieces throughout the book, quotes from published and previously unpublished interviews are spiced throughout the book, both from McQuarrie himself, as well as George Lucas and a number of colleagues that he worked with on the film. It has been called the most important Star Wars art book published to date, and as an owner of all of the previous Star Wars art books (and the publisher of a few), I cannot dispute that claim.


View from the Cheap Seats by Neil Gaiman (audiobook) - My wife and I love listening to hear Neil Gaiman talk. We’ve seen him live a number of times, and have enjoyed several of his audiobooks and CDs of short stories. So while I bought the hardcover version of his collected non-fiction, The View from the Cheap Seats, I also had to get the audiobook to listen to. The book is a collection of essays, introductions, speeches, album liner notes… you name it. And hearing them read by the author is a real treat. In addition to the entertaining experience listening to the book provides, I can all but guarantee that along the way, you’ll be jotting down notes about authors or books you want to check out. Definitely worth a listen.

Jose's picks-

The Battle of the Red Hot Pepper Weenies by David Lubar

I’ve been in love with David Lubar’s Weenie books ever since I discovered his first, In the Land of the Lawn Weenies, during my freshman year of high school. The author has a sense of humor that goes through the entire comedic spectrum, from deliciously sharp to wickedly dark and then right smack dab into lovably goofy. Pair the cruelty of Roald Dahl with the punning joviality of Robert Bloch and you’ll begin to have a pretty good idea of Lubar’s métier, but the stories collected in this volume and others pulverize the works of those masters for sheer volume of wild and woolly ideas. Transitioning from a bonkers story like “Into the Wild Blue Yonder” where an obnoxious twerp gets blended into sausage meat by a carnival ride to the genuinely disturbing “Put On a Happy Face” that finds a boy being groomed for a lifetime as a circus clown illustrates just how joyously unpredictable Lubar’s tales can be. If you have kids who think reading is gross, give them these books. They’ll love you forever.

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson

As a library assistant with a strong focus on teen services, I occasionally dip into YA literature, but still not nearly as enough as I’d like to. Paterson’s seminal classic has been on my must-read shortlist for some time, and I’m incredibly glad to have finally got around to it. The story of Jesse Aarons and Leslie Burke distills friendship to its most basic and endearing tenets, of learning to give gifts and time and patience to those who you love the most, of dropping pretense and knowing in those all-too-brief and blissful moments what it’s like to be able to “be yourself” in the presence of another. The turnings of the plot are likely well-known by this point, but I can tell you right now that even with knowing what I was getting into when I started this book, I was still left shaken by several lines in the concluding chapters. If you are ever wary of delving into “children’s literature,” I suggest you get acquainted with this novel.

Close Range: Wyoming Stories by Annie Proulx

As hard-bitten and merciless as the harsh Northern terrains that her characters populate, the stories that compose Annie Proulx’s landmark collection are charged with incredible power. There are plenty of teeth and sharp-edges, to be sure, covering everything from the concussive shockwaves delivered by bull-riding and the dynamics of a mother-son relationship (“The Mud Below”) to the macabre horror that comes with the discovery of a corpse-stuffed attic (“55 Miles to the Gas Pump”), but there are also moments of chilling beauty and even downright awe-inspiring strangeness (“The Half-Skinned Steer,” “The Bunchgrass at the End of the World”) that leave you a little changed than when you first came to this raw, rough country.


The Cook by Harry Kressing

Speaking of strangeness. I’ve long wanted to meet this book ever since reading Bentley Little’s essay in Horror: Another 100 Best Books. A strongly Gothic fairy tale concerning a chef’s insidious gastronomic takeover of an entire picturesque hamlet? Sign me up! I had good expectations for Kressing’s novel going into it, and the preceding story lived up to every one of them. There is very little overt horror in terms of actual content for most of the book, but to say that percolating, insidious atmosphere is anything but horror would be a fool’s gambit. This is a work of the genre solidly in the school of Shirley Jackson, that fantastic Neverland just to the left of reality where malignant forces are constantly at work to suffocate you. You may take that as my heartiest of recommendations.

Engines of Desire by Livia Llewellyn

Llewellyn has made a considerable name for herself in the years since the publication of this, her first collection of fiction, which is all the more impressive when one realizes that her reputation has been built entirely on short stories, a credit that puts her talent up there with that of Thomas Ligotti. Her prose is not unlike that of Angels Carter, luxuriously detailed with hefty chunks of adjectives, and while that might leave the reader laboring through one or two tales, the author’s imaginative scope is as wondrous as it is scintillating. The baroque and incredibly sexual manifestations of “The Engine of Desire” and “At the Edge of Ellensburg” match the puncturing bleakness of “Horses” and “Jetsam” ounce for ounce. And this doesn’t even cover the fleshy trees, or the gargantuan, or the amphibian people. This is the face of Weird fiction in this day and age.

Ghost Stories of an Antiquary by M. R. James

Having only read one or two of James’ spectral tales in the past, I resolved to give this winter season the proper justice by undertaking the famed medievalist’s first volume of Yuletide specials. (My motives were twofold: with temperatures reaching a seasonal 85 degrees Fahrenheit down here in sunny Florida, I needed all the help I could muster to get in the proper chilly mood.) Reading these stories was like settling into a pair of old, beloved shoes, entirely comforting and tinged with a faint patina of nostalgia. But the coziness engendered by scenes of fusty antiquarians mulling over ancient engravings and piecemeal architecture only enhance the perverse entry of the supernatural all the more. James’ specters are bracingly visceral, great hairy, mucky, crawly abominations that completely obliterate the notion of the wispy, chain-clanking stereotype that proliferates in other works of the time. You can never bet on what hideous shape the author’s demons will take next, from the linen-faced bedroom scarecrow of “Oh, Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, My Lad” to the cackling amorphous spirit that rooms in the scarlet-hued “Number 13.” With the apparent sole mission of tickling our heroes’ skin and giving them a good fright, this cast of creepers makes for the perfect chill-inducing chaser to all the sugarplum sweetness of Christmastime.

Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris

Hey, I like to laugh just as much as anyone else. It’s not always apocalypses and gentleman frogs for this cat! Years ago I somehow picked up on David Sedaris’ name and eventually came across a video from one of the Late Shows that had him reading an excerpt from this book called “Jesus Saves.” I knew after that point that I had to nab a copy of one of his essay collections, and luckily enough this volume came into my crosshairs during my last thrift store binge. And yes, it did make me laugh. Quite a bit. Aside from having that kind of casual, off-hand humor that seems to come so naturally to comics, Sedaris reveals through each successive essay that any kind of ideal upbringing and life are essentially a myth and that the kind kooks, misfits, weirdoes, characters, and smartasses that make up his family and circle of friends are a helluva lot closer to reality than any nonsense that we might see in popular culture. If nothing else, Me Talk Pretty One Day teaches us to embrace the crazy jackass inside all of us. And all the ones around us, too.

Mr. Gaunt and Other Uneasy Encounters by John Langan

Though comparatively slight when compared to other collections by number of contents, Langan’s debut more than makes up for it not only in the amount of words but in all their accumulated muscle. The five novellas herein act as a meshing of two carnival staples, the creaky old spookhouse seen through the refracting eyes of the funhouse’s mirrors, inverting and slightly altering the timeless tropes of the horror genre to see how far they can twist and bend and what new, wonderful creatures might be wrought from the marriage. Thus the Jamesian (Henry and Montague) framing devices we find “On Skua Island” and in “Mr. Gaunt,” the altered breed of lycans that parade through “Episode Seven: In the Kingdom of the Purple Flowers.” Langan’s approach is pleasingly academic, and even if the preceding tales left one a little wanting the author scores a pitch-perfect slam dunk with his final piece, “Laocoon; or, the Singularity,” an immensely satisfying exploration into Updike-levels of realist drama and Kafka-esque body horror that in time will hopefully be inducted into the literary canon of dark fiction.


The Postman Always Rings Twice by James M. Cain

This book has got quicksilver running in its veins, and it remains just as potent now as it did when it was published in 1934. Cain draws us into the vortex of his plotting lovers and lets us study them like a chemical reaction, the heat turning up by degrees in more ways than one. This isn’t the kind of thrill-a-minute, what-will-happen-next school of suspense writing championed by contemporary bestsellers as much as it is the doomed, world-weary dread that bubbles up from the pit of your stomach when you know that our lovers’ Big Plan is a lousy one from the start and fated to end very, very badly for the both of them. Is it any wonder then that this tone was to be later adopted by Hollywood as the calling card for their shadowy genre of noir films? Yes, I think I see the postman now. He’s burning a hole in the mat and he’s got a deaths-head grin. And he’s not going away.

Rabbit, Run by John Updike

Certain stories seem to come around at just the right time in your life. Married with a wife and child and another on the way all before he’s cracked a quarter of a century on this earth, Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom is a man whose life and more specifically whose mindset bears a discomfiting likeness to ideas and notions that have run through my own head. But I doubt that you have to be in Rabbit’s exact situation or even one close to it in order to sympathize with his cracked logic. Many of us feel his restlessness more than once throughout our lives, the allure of shrugging off obligations as easily as a dirty coat and striking out for whatever bright promise comes our way. Updike achieves the same “envious balance” that Scorsese manages with Rupert Pupkin, that magnetic tango of repel-and-attract, his Rabbit not much more than an aimless deadbeat who steps on cracks in the sidewalk and breaks everybody’s backs all with a blissful ignorance, and yet… And yet we can’t help but covet that ignorance, if only a little, and know the exhilarating rush that comes with turning away from your domesticated cell and running the other way.

Rod Serling’s Night Gallery: An After-Hours Tour by Scott Skelton and Jim Benson

Coming in just under the wire for 2016, this impressive tome still stands as the yardstick by which all literary evaluations of fringe pop culture should hold themselves to even 18 years on from its original publication. Books like Skelton’s and Bensons extensive overview of Serling’s second (and still undervalued) fantasy series for television that were issued prior to the mass accessibility of information on the Internet are made all the more notable for their depth of coverage and attention to detail. In spite of Night Gallery being a network program that achieved an appreciable fanbase during its original run and even during the bastard years of syndication, Universal’s treatment of the series was negligible to say the least, and yet from this mire of inattention and misinformation Skelton and Benson came along to not only set the record straight regarding the show’s substantial quality but to provide a staggering amount of data and anecdotes, the majority of them delivered from a truckload of first-hand sources ranging from actors to assistant directors, that ensured that this book was the final word on Night Gallery. Fans of this terrific anthology series and anyone who aspires to take on similar literary endeavors owe it to themselves to take this after-hours tour post-haste.

The Skull of Truth by Bruce Coville

Going off of the candy-hued, overly literal cover art that adorned many-a juvenile paperback from the 80s and 90s, you could be forgiven for thinking that most of those musty chapter books were nothing but vigorous time-wasters. But there were just as many if not more working scribes who sought to elevate the literary value of the field as those pulpsters who kept the bar at a nice, limbo-unfriendly level. One of them was Bruce Coville, a beloved fantasist of dozens if not hundreds of novels and stories whose droll wit, humanist approach, and love for all that was magical made him a favorite amongst young readers. The Skull of Truth is the fourth in the author’s series of “Magic Shop” books (think a more benevolent of the antique store from Friday the 13th: The Series), and reading it not only acted as a nice refresher of the time I consumed the first entry, The Monster’s Ring, in one afternoon during elementary school but as surprising revelation as to how refined and delicate a craftsman the author was. Within the fantastic context of the story—the bewitched skull of Yorick (yes, that Yorick) entrusted into the hands of a compulsive liar now compelled to profess the truth when in the skull’s presence—Coville manages to explore bracingly mature tangents like our hero’s processing of his uncle’s sexuality and the far-reaching consequences of his actions, actions that don’t appear as wholly right as they did upon conception. Heady content (pun intended) for a little Accelerated Reader, but Coville’s writing stands as a fine testament to the uncharted terrain that can be explored—and the care it can be explored with—in the field of children’s literature.


The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith

When I first sealed shut the covers of Highsmith’s invasive psychological study upon completing the book, I thought that I had enjoyed my stay in sun-bathed Venice with the inimitable Mr. Ripley well enough but wouldn’t necessarily call the reading experience an exemplary one. But since that time I’ve discovered that Mr. Ripley is a most bothersome ghost. He comes back into my head when I least expect it, this American nobody whose gradual decision to evolve from symbiote of well-off, handsome friend Dickie to the host himself sounds like the most natural reasoning in the world before you take the time to consider what that means. It’s Ripley’s nearly-complete emotional disengagement from the events—he only really expresses passion when faced with possible opposition—that allows us to drift through his deceptions and killings as if we were lazing on a gondola waiting to drop us off at the next chic café. It’s only when we get our heads out of the sun and look closely at Ripley that we sees what lurks beneath the cracks in his assured masquerade: the American nobody, the alien, hungry for your skin.

The Year’s Best Weird Fiction: Volume One edited by Michael Kelly and Laird Barron

Readers who are uncertain of how best to tread the new blood that composes the current Weird fiction scene and all the various genres that huddle under its black, scabby umbrella are warmly invited to seek out these annual volumes from Undertow Publications. Editor Michael Kelly’s imprint has been doing good work for many-an equinox and this series, co-edited by himself and a guest editor every year, ensuring that the series’ overview of the field is vast and attendant to the quirks of each compiler’s personal tastes. The first volume, curated by Kelly and modern grandmaster Laird Barron, offers a cornucopia of strangeness big and small, including a harrowing portrait of substance abuse and gargantuan monstrosities (Paul Tremblay’s “Swim Wants to Know If It’s as Bad as Swim Thinks”), a gently romantic ghost story of perseverance during the Second World War (Anna Taborska’s “The Girl in the Blue Coat”), and a darkly whimsical mecha-world of humanoid automatons (John R. Fultz’s “The Key to Your Heart is Made of Brass”), not to mention mighty contributions from friends-of-the list, John Langan and Livia Llewellyn. Those who feel that genre literature has grown staid within the last few years need only to crack the spine on any one of these expansive anthologies to know for certain that we have only just begun.

Jack's picks-


The Art of Joe Kubert by Bill Schelly. A thoroughly enjoyable large format book that traces Kubert’s career from the early days in the 1930s to the post-9/11 era, filled with great illustrations and just enough biographical detail to keep it interesting.

Davis

 Tales from the Crypt #29

"Grounds . . . for Horror!" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

"A Rottin' Trick!" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Joe Orlando

"Board to Death!" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"A Sucker for a Spider!" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels


Poor little Artie sure has "Grounds . . . for Horror!" His cruel stepfather, Sam the butcher, likes to lock him in the closet to punish him for any minor infraction. Artie cries in the dark, alone and afraid, until his mother Lily hears him starting to laugh. It seems Artie has made friends with an invisible creature named Hozir that lives in the closet and Hozir does not like the way Sam is treating Artie. The boy protects his stepfather and convinces Hozir just to give Sam a little shove, but soon the constant punishments result in Hozir making Sam cut off the tip of a finger while using the slicing machine. A week later, Sam makes the mistake of beating Artie. When Lily comes home, Artie shows her that Hozir finally lost his temper and put Sam through the meat grinder.

And what am I? Chopped liver? ("Grounds . . . for Horror!")

What a satisfyingly meaty start to this issue! Jack Davis is in fine form, and for once we get a real payoff in the last panel, as Davis shows us a big pile of ground Sam. Yum!

"A Rottin' Trick!"

Clint Ashton is running away from someone who is chasing him through Greece. Hiding in a small boat, he thinks back to a time two years before when he met and courted a beautiful singer named Essie in the same seacoast town where he now hides. Essie was engaged to Nick, but that didn't stop Clint from playing "A Rottin' Trick!" He drove Essie out to the country and had his way with her, but when she was disfigured in a car accident he dropped her like a hot potato, telling Nick to go ahead and marry her. Now, two years later, he tracks Nick down and asks for his help. Nick takes Clint out on his boat and to safety, dropping him off near an island and telling him to wade ashore. Clint asks Nick if he ever married Essie and learns that she committed suicide. Unfortunately for Clint, Nick let him off at a leper colony, where he will quickly contract the dreaded disease and never be able to leave.

Ouch--Clint really got what was coming to him. Joe Orlando turns in a decent job on the art in this story and, as in the first story in this issue, the final panel doesn't shy away from showing us the gruesome truth of Clint's fate.

How to handle a woman. ("Board to Death!")

Myrna has been afraid of being buried alive since she was in a mining accident as a child, so when she marries Herb he likes to tease her with threats that he'll bury her alive. They move to a dingy mining town and she has an affair with a hunk named Andy. Herb comes home early one day and catches his wife with her lover, so he hits her over the head with a poker. She awakens in a pine box, thinking he's buried her alive, not realizing that this is how she's being transported to a distant hospital--locked inside a pine box that's fastened to the outside of a plane. When they arrive and open the box, she's gone crazy.

Yes, you read that right. "Board to Death!" features a woman being airlifted to a hospital in a coffin-like pine box hooked to the outside of a plane. And this is a woman who has told everyone over and over that she is petrified of being buried alive. Thank goodness Kamen gets the chance to draw some light bondage panels showing the rather attractive gal tied up inside the coffin. Otherwise, this story would be a total waste.

Bank president Maxwell Stoneman is "A Sucker for a Spider!" He loves the little guys and shows off his collection to his chief teller, Randolph Spurd. Spurd tells Stoneman that he knows the boss has been embezzling from his own bank and offers to keep quiet for $5000. Stoneman convinces Spurd to stay the night and lets a black widow spider kill him in his bed. The cops investigate and find nothing, but Stoneman decides to get out of town for awhile just to be safe. He flies his own plane south but crashes in the Okefenokee swamp, where a giant spider traps him in its web and eats him.

Gosh! Don't you hate when that happens? Ghastly is in good form with this revenge tale, where all of the humans look a little weird and the spiders look normal. If I were blackmailing my boss and he had a collection of spiders, I sure wouldn't accept an offer for a slumber party! --Jack

"A Sucker for a Spider!"

Peter: "Grounds . . . for Horror!" is nothing more than a reworking of "Horror in the Schoolroom" (from Haunt #7), which was, itself, a rip-off of John Collier's "Thus I Refute Beelzy," but it does have a humdinger of a final panel. This was Al and Bill testing the waters to see what they could get away with and, as history shows, they were able to get away with it for a couple of years before anyone (aside from the Fan-Addicts) took notice. Some of the worst Davis art yet, with several of the panels looking sketchy and unfinished (panel 6 on page 7 ostensibly shows Sam Bricker with a giant earthworm boring into his cheek), this is one best forgotten. "A Rottin' Trick!" gives its twist away in the title (a cardinal sin) but it's a good'n all the same. No, you're right, it makes no sense that Clint would head back for help from the one man on Earth who hates him the most but why do you always have to be so nit picky? "Bored Board to Death!" has some of the dopiest dialogue ("I'll buy you a new dress . . . when I bury you alive!") and character personality switches in any EC this month. What kind of Romeo would court a girl by continually telling her he'll bury her alive? Romance in the 1950s. Ghastly beckons us into "A Sucker for a Spider!" with a fabulous splash of the Grim Reaper and then helps Al along with his questionable narrative and preposterous climax. Of course, there's no such spider as the Vermula, so Al can pretty much make up his own rules, but his problem has become that most of his twists are telegraphed. I give "Spider" a passing grade for presentation.

Jose: “Grounds . . . for Horror!” moves along at a smooth pace in spite of some rather staid artwork and panel layouts, but it all feels worth it when we get to that last shot of the machine turning out finely-ground hash of step-dad. (Maybe it would’ve been too-on-the-nose, but why not have named the wicked stepfather Chuck?) For me, “A Rottin’ Trick!” represents some of Orlando’s best work yet; this story has always stayed in my mind as being the ultimate Orlando horror tale. He’s beginning to reach gorgeous levels of detail. Check out those panels in the nightclub: the haze of smoke, the glinting jewelry, the weeping violinist. You can feel the room, it’s so palpable. And while Clint’s calling on Nick to help him might seem like a narrative misstep, it makes a certain kind of sense if you consider Clint’s character: brash, arrogant, thinking that he can talk his way out of any situation and bend others to his will. A fatal flaw, but one I think of character rather than writer. I remember being confused a lot the first time I read “Board to Death!” back in high school, and I admit that not much has changed. This is a pretty durn flimsy yarn, and “the twist” that had seemed so random to me and made me think that I was the dumb one now only comes across as a dumb plot development. And I, for one, really dig “A Sucker for a Spider!” Overall, I think this particular issue shows all of the contributing artists really stepping into their form. As Russ Cochran says in his notes from the hardcover EC Library edition, the slight wrinkles that had cropped up in everyone’s earlier work are effectively steamrolled by the time Tales #26 rolls around. “… Spider” represents a significant turning point in Ingels’s illustrations, his characters more clearly defined and delineated and the action flowing more naturalistically without the cramped, tortured, and claustrophobic feeling that permeated his previous stories. To be honest, I don’t really give a fig that giant Okefenokee spiders don’t exist, or even if Stoneman’s withered fate is given to us from the start. To me that’s part of the charm in the EC stories, especially when we know the payoff is going to be disgusting.

Craig

 Crime SuspenStories #10

". . . Rocks in His Head!" ★★ 1/2
Story and Art by Johnny Craig

"Lady Killer" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Missed by Two Heirs!" ★★ 
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

"Friend to 'Our Boys'!" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels

He went to Jared's! (". . . Rocks in His Head!")

Doctor Charles Andrews has the Number One irritant of an EC husband: a money-hungry shrew of a wife. Cynthia Andrews rings up purchases faster than her surgeon hubby can earn the dough and something has to give. Rather than murder his wife (Option A in this universe), Chuck takes advantage of an ailing woman in the ER by robbing her of her diamond ring ("worth $10,000 at least!") but the biddy wakes up and cries "Robbery!" Within minutes, the police swoop in (as if there was a precinct within the hospital!) and shut the medical center down for a person-by-person search for the missing trinket. Luckily for Doc Andrews, he has brain surgery to perform in OR #2 and hightails it. A suspicious cop keeps guard, though, and there's only one place to hide the ring . . . in his patient's skull. Though the patient would normally pull through the operation, the Doc deems the poor guy's days are numbered (so that he can rush a post-mortem and dig up the corpse once it's been buried). The post-op and patient's death go without a hitch but when Andrews visits the widow to find out when the stiff will be interred, he gets a big surprise . . . the dead man has been cremated! Helpful of Al to let us know, at story's end, that diamonds burn at 850 degrees and a cremation reaches 2000. I liked the twist of ". . . Rocks in the Head!" even if it is a bit far-fetched. Again, you have to love the 1950s, when a murderer could get away with all sorts of outlandish capers; no forensics to worry about or autopsies to botch a fiend's plan. I do find it fascinating that Al lets the Doc off the hook (ostensibly) since he walks away from both the robbery and "murder" in the end.

"Lady Killer"

Ralph and Jeanne have fallen in love, now only one thing stands in their matrimonial way: Jeanne's best friend, Mildred, who happens to be Ralph's wife. Ralph goes to his wife and asks for a divorce but Milly refuses, claiming it's only a passing fancy and her hubby will come to his senses in no time. The two lovebirds decide the only way to happiness is murder and a plan is devised. Ralph establishes an alibi and heads back to his flat, where he guns down Milly in cold blood. When he returns to Jeanne's place and knocks on the door, there's no answer, but he finds the door unlocked and the apartment dark. Just then, he hears a commotion from downstairs; the landlady telling a cop she's heard a shot from upstairs. The cop enters the apartment to find Ralph sobbing over the lifeless form of Jeanne. Evidently, Milly had been by for a cup of tea. The final panel of "Lady Killer" finds Ralph on Death Row, musing on the irony of being arrested for Jeanne's death rather than his wife's! Boy, these cops in these comic books are amateurs. Are you telling me they couldn't put two and two together and come out with two murders to hang on this dope? Jack Kamen's jilted wives always look like old spinsters and his men always look . . . oh, sorry, I've gone into this a few times already, haven't I? Never mind.

"Missed By Two Heirs!"

Nasty old Henry Bordin keeps his two step-sons, Julius and Martin, at his beck and call. Henry inherited the family fortune when his wife died and he knows this will keep the two vultures running up and down the stairs at his every whim. Sick of being lapdogs to an old man who shouldn't have lucked into all this money, Martin and Julius plot Henry's demise, but their first stab at the venture goes awry when their step-dad survives their monkeying with the banister. After that, Martin has had enough and poisons the old timer's orange juice. After a bit of time has gone by, the brothers enter their stepfather's room, expecting to find a corpse, but to their surprise Henry Bordin is gone. In a note, Bordin explains he's on to the schemers and has taken a sample of the orange juice to the police to be tested. Panicked by the prospect of life behind bars, Martin and Julius poison themselves but, before the potion can take effect, the police arrive to explain that Henry has slipped on the ice outside, cracked his skull, and died. "Missed by Two Heirs!" has a great last-panel twist but we have to slog though the same old "greedy relatives waiting on a big payday" narrative. The only difference between this variation and others before it is that these two dopes really should have gotten their mom's moolah and old Henry seems to be the actual villain.

"Friend to 'Our Boys'!"

Corporal Barry Tacker keeps his wife, Eve, and young son off-base in a rotted shack owned by the chintzy, cold-hearted Edgar Chambers. The place is a dump and falling apart but Chambers refuses to fix any part of his property, instead hoping the family will move out and allow him to reel new victims in at an escalated price. The leaking roof, marauding rats and blood-sucking mosquitoes finally become too much for the family and they move out. When Chambers arrives to inspect the now-vacant property, he falls down the rotted stairs into the basement and is devoured by rats. The End. Nothing original in "Friend to 'Our Boys'!" either, unfortunately, other than the fact that Al spared the lives of the innocents (I was expecting little Junior to be gnawed to death before Barry saw the light). Other than that, we have a landlord so vile, vicious, and evil, he becomes a parody and hardly believable. Not one of the better Crime issues. --Peter

Cheese, that is horrible! ("Friend to 'Our Boys'!")

Jack: The Johnny Craig story was the best in the issue, as usual, with a creative premise and a stellar mix of art and story. I'll admit that the Doc's plan is a little nutty, but it's not one we've seen before and the final zinger is a good one. I was pleasantly surprised by the Kamen tale, which features a strong, noir story and art to match. At one point, it reminded me of the kind of narration one would hear in an Old Time Radio crime drama. The conclusion is another variation on Cain's Postman, but that never gets old. Jack Davis's art is a little shaky in the "Two Heirs" story and Peter's right about the setup having been done to death. As for Ghastly, he sure knows how to draw a hovel! I had never heard about the early 1950s' G.I. housing shortage and was wondering what Harvey Kurtzman could have done with this theme in one of the war books. The story is straightforward and overwritten, as Feldstein sometimes does, but the finale is another one that is more explicit than we've grown used to.

I'm a nurse! I'm a janitor! I'm bleeding internally! (". . . Rocks in His Head!")

Jose: Have I accidentally stepped into the Twilight Zone? Is it really possible that I enjoyed the Jack Kamen story more than the Johnny Craig? Heavens to Betsy! “… Rocks in His Head!” is by no means a stinker, but some of the funny contrivances like that expedited police investigation pale slightly in comparison to the uniformly strong script Feldstein contributes with “Lady Killer.” The issue’s second story cleverly starts off in medias res as Ralph is just preparing to polish off Mildred following a little smooching at Jeanne’s place, while Craig employs his comedic flair in showcasing money-burning Cynthia’s complete obliviousness to her husband’s despair. Jack Davis gets thrown a bone with the socko ending to “Missed By Two Heirs!,” but the rest of the story goes down like warmed-over scraps. “Friend to ‘Our Boys’!” may be drawn broadly, but I was totally fine with its moralistic fable vibe. It features a unique premise that Feldstein explores with genuine sympathy for the G.I.s as well as bald distaste for those who would exploit them, so the story can be reasonably viewed as the writer’s personalized revenge fantasy. I especially liked the fact that the villain here was done in by his neglect rather than any direct action on his part. In that sense it makes the story much more compatible with reality; it’s usually the things that we don’t do that lead to misfortune later on.

Craig

The Vault of Horror #24

"A Bloody Undertaking!" ★★★★
Story and Art by Johnny Craig

". . . With All the Trappings!" ★★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein and Bill Gaines
Art by Graham Ingels

"Impressed by a Nightmare!" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein and Bill Gaines
Art by Joe Orlando

"The Death Wagon!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein and Bill Gaines
Art by Jack Davis

Undertaker Gilbert Podges has just bid adieu to his former assistant at the Tompkins train station one frosty night when he happens to see a stunning woman standing at the platform. Offering her a lift, Gilbert exchanges introductions and niceties on the drive to her desolate house and receives a warm kiss as a show of thanks. And just like that, Gilbert is hooked. He quickly proposes marriage to Wilma, never thinking the dame might have it in for his lucrative funeral business. Now with a (gold-digging) wife of his own, Gilbert refocuses his energies on hiring a new assistant. He strikes gold when extremely dedicated albeit “strange, queer-looking” Charlie Drayne applies the next day and plies himself immediately to the job. Charlie is dedicated, but perhaps a little too dedicated. All the cadavers in Gilbert’s shop are always expediently drained of blood, a fact that pairs rather grimly with the series of bizarre “vampire killings” that have begun to plague small, peaceful Tompkins. Charlie’s increasingly nervous and off-kilter behavior, matched with wary comments from Wilma, clinches the deal for Gilbert: Mr. Drayne is an undead fiend. His apprehensions catch the ears of the townsfolk, and it isn’t long before his fears rip through the rest of them like wildfire. Clubs and pitchforks are raised and the villagers give chase to the delirious Charlie, whom they then pin to the ground and stake through the heart, the deadly sledgehammer blow delivered by none other than his employer. Exhausted, Gilbert returns to the funeral home and sees Wilma bending over a slab, only realizing too late as she rears her fangs that he has just made his last error of judgment.

Giving chase to the Other. ("A Bloody Undertaking!")

Johnny Craig takes the territory he explored first with the stylish-yet-standard “Vampire!” (Haunt #16) and ratchets up the formula with additional notes of subtle characterization and thematic resonance for one of his masterpieces, “A Bloody Undertaking!” Gilbert and Wilma are Craig regulars, the “old goat” too blind to see the true nature of the “ice queen.” But the secret that Wilma is keeping is decidedly deadlier than your run-of-the-mill adultery, and Craig must be given credit for ably keeping that secret fairly hidden from the reader through his careful manipulation of the plot. He writes Wilma as a genuine human character and not some ethereal, innuendo-spouting wraith whose motivations are instantly telegraphed. She may be a member of the undead, but she’s also on the make; this is a lady who knows how to play the game. While “A Bloody Undertaking!” remains a three-actor drama in its early stages like “Vampire!”, the story expands in its last sprint into an epic as Gilbert’s paranoia takes hold of the other Tompkins residents and generates an angry mob that is less the bedeviled villagers of Mittel-European hamlets depicted in Universal horror shows and more closely (and unsettlingly) related to the lynch mobs from our own bloody soil, a shading that feels to be influenced by the current running through Shock SuspenStories. Craig’s story reaches a real level of poignancy in the panels following Charlie’s staking as all the townies, weary from their bloodlust, slowly trudge back to their homes to an apparent return to normalcy. Though Craig the writer claims that they feel quietly glorious over their “victory,” Craig the artist renders them on the page with wrinkled brows and worried eyes, as if the smallest splinter of doubt and uneasiness is niggling at their collective minds. That this doubt and uneasiness is magnified tenfold by Gilbert’s late-coming revelation regarding his own bloodsucking vamp makes the ending sting you in the throat all the sharper.

We now return to Trappers on Ice. (". . . With All the Trappings!")

Pierre Duval, Canadian fur trapper, cannot stand the thought of his mortal remains being shucked away into the earth on a pine dinner plate for the worms and grubs to hold banquet. Preservation and posterity: that’s his line. As such, the old coot resolves to purchase one of those new-fangled metal vaults so that his corpse as well as Maria’s, his abiding wife, may repose in unnibbled peace. Unfortunately Maria goes and buys the farm before Pierre has the three hundred dollars saved up to buy the vault. The crafty trapper answers the question “Where Do You Stow a Cadaver Like Maria?” by shutting his dead wife inside the ice house behind their cabin and sets forth into the freezing wilds to rustle up some funds. (Otherwise known as Kickstarter: Roughneck Edition.) Pierre’s trapping spree goes swimmingly, though he grimly notes at one point that a sizable lynx had escaped one of his sharp-toothed snares, though the animal did lose a front paw in the bargain. Bursting from the seams with his bloody furs, Pierre sells the goods and heads into the city to claim his vault. He returns to the ice house to tell Maria the wonderful news, but old Pierre is gorged with horror at the sight of his wife’s denuded remains resting at the bloody stump of one yowling, well-fed lynx.

“…With All the Trappings!” finds Feldstein extending his reach in delivering rabid EC readers their “heaping helping[s] of horror.” Gone are the steadfast vengeful corpses (at least for this part of the issue) and the murderous spouses, here instead replaced by a blisteringly realist approach that recalls the survival horror stories of Jack London and Stephen Crane. Pierre’s actions are motivated by his revulsion of the burial-and-breakdown process, but whereas this type of aversion would act as the center of morbid fascination in a number of other EC tales, the trapper’s mental quirk is never exploited with a grandiose, ironic finish that cruelly plays on his fears. Instead Pierre becomes one of the hapless victims of Mother Nature and pure chance, a bystander to scenes depicting an animal resolve stronger than his own. Pierre and his wife Maria are an especially rare breed of leading players for the company, totally free of malice or ill will directed towards each other or their fellow men yet met with bleak endings all the same. In this way they are not unlike the source of Pierre’s living: blameless animals trying to make their way through life without needlessly hurting others of their kind, yet still prey to the bite of steel jaws waiting patiently for them in the snow.

A Woodian highlight from a dim night terror. ("Impressed by a Nightmare!")

Emma Dworkin has been having the strangest dreams lately. First she envisions her own finger getting cut, an accident that comes to fruition as she’s uncanning frozen orange juice the next morning. That night she sees her young daughter falling in the street and skinning her knees, a premonition that finds exact expression the following day. At this point she’s made her worries known to her husband, Fred, but his advice is to tell her get more sleep, accented by exclamations of “Kibosh!” and “Fiddle-faddle!” when Emma tries to keep their teenage son from borrowing the car after she dreams of an auto accident. Fred reluctantly eats his words when they get the telephone call later that night from their unharmed and apologetic son. Fred still doesn’t buy his wife’s precognitive powers, and sadly for him Emma proves to be too helpful when she runs to the printing factory where he works to warn him of the nightmare she had that showed him falling into the giant press. The commotion she raises startles Fred on the catwalk, immediately leading to his depressing fate.

“Impressed by a Nightmare!” is a strictly average yarn that adds nothing to the “clairvoyant dreams” strain and one that suffers from some wildly inconsistent art from Joe Orlando. Is this the same guy who turned in “A Rottin’ Trick” this month? There’s not one sign of the smoky romanticism that the artist brought to that tale, replaced here with flat anatomy, awkward poses, and a series of strange ear silhouettes (don’t ask). Don’t trust what it says on the label: there’s hardly anything impressive here.

Wanted: More walking corpses carrying purses and umbrellas. ("The Death Wagon!")

Herman Kitch and Amos Sink of the “Kitch and Sink Used Car Lot” (GET IT?) have just put the wraps on another day of integrity-driven salesmanship, honest appraisals of their wares, and a conscientious desire to help every last one of their humble customers in their time of need. The fact that they do this by mocking up complete junkers with a fresh coat of paint and selling them for double their purchase price is besides the point. But their larcenies and frauds have consequences bigger than the two scam-artists can appreciate: their used cars, frequently held together with nothing but a roll of dental floss, are leading to a record number of road fatalities, killing everyone from a nice elderly couple to a vacationing family, even a few bystanders in one case. The police smell something fishy, and it ain’t just the diluted transmission fluid. Promising to go over the lot with a fine-toothed comb, a detective returns the next day to find that Herman and Amos were up all night remodeling. Except that the salesmen were actually the new parts, and the mechanics were the punishing corpses of all their victims!

If nothing else, “The Death Wagon!” is a bit of fun (and educational) when it instructs the reader through the mouthpiece of Herman on all the neat little tricks you can perform to make automobile issues simply disappear. At least for a few miles, anyway. I remember enjoying this story a fair deal when I first read it as a teenager, thinking that the final payoff was gruesomely imaginative and gnarly, even if all we did get to see were those deaths-head headlights. Now the story strikes me as fairly rote, a nod in the direction of the increasingly icky scenes that EC would begin to depict in a short amount of time. --Jose

Va-va-voompire! ("A Bloody Undertaking")

Peter: If the wordy punchline to "The Death Wagon!" sounds familiar ("Two red tongues had replaced the windshield wipers! Eye-balls stared from parking light sockets! Severed hands served as door handles!" Etc!), that's because it was reused to much better effect a year later in the infamous "Foul Play" (". . . the catcher with the torso strapped on as a chest-protector, the stomach rosin-bag . . ." Etc!). It's another in a long line (with more to come) of by-the-numbers revenge yarns. 1/ Introduce the villains. 2/ Introduce the innocent. 3/ Introduce death and mayhem. 4/ Rotting corpses rise from the grave to mete out ironic fate. Simply change vocations for the bad guys and the stories practically wrote (or re-wrote) themselves. Similarly predictable are the vampire tale and "Impressed by a Nightmare!," the latter of which doesn't so much end as peter out; Al is seemingly so uninterested in the narrative, he sees no use in coming up with the O. Henry. I'll agree with my partners, though, on the Craig art. Solid as always and the man can always be counted on to do something nice with a figure (check out, for example, that stunning shot of a reclining Wilma--the term "headlights" was coined because of this panel!). ". . . With All the Trappings!," however, manages to avoid all the usual cliches and delivers solid shocks and sympathy. Pierre is not a bad man; in fact, in an unusual turn of events, ". . . Trappings" has no villains (save the hungry lynx, maybe). Pierre's fate may be a result of his trapping, but the man is only doing what he thinks is right for the woman he loved. One of Ghastly's best jobs to this point.

Jack: I agree with you that this setting really allows Ingels to go to town with the art and we get a couple of particularly ghoulish close ups of Maria's corpse. Still, I saw the end coming a mile away, as I did with the vampire story. That Wilma sure is one hot gold-digger! I love the panel right after her ride in the car with Gilbert where he is overwhelmed by having had her in the front seat with him. Classic Craig! I had the same reaction to the Davis story that you did and think it was a rehearsal for "Foul Play!" but here he isn't allowed to go whole hog and show us the entire, disgusting car--only a tight shot of the front end. Orlando's art on "Nightmare" is a little odd but he takes every opportunity he can find to display Emma in her nightgown, for which we can all be thankful.

So this means no breakfast, right? ("...With All the Trappings")

Wood

Shock SuspenStories #2

"Kickback!" ★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Gee, Dad . . . It's a Daisy!" ★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Wally Wood

"The Patriots!" ★★★ 1/2
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

"Halloween!" ★★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels

Freda is a doll who married old Oscar Higgins for his money, but when he has a heart attack and is paralyzed and bedridden for life, she soon tires of caring for her drooling hubby. She meets a hunk named Rick who wants to marry her, so she cooks up a plan to kill Oscar. Workmen are hired to put bars on the basement windows and a snap lock on the basement door and, after stocking the basement pantry with canned goods, Freda "accidentally" locks herself down there for three weeks until the meter reader stops by and lets her out. In the meantime, Oscar has died and she is now free to marry Rick. She heads off to New York to see the lawyer and settle the estate but, when she returns, she finds that Rick accidentally locked himself in the basement and the shock of the ordeal has left him comatose, so now she has another man to care for.

Our kind of gal! ("Kickback!")

Not a bad little story, "Kickback!" has an unexpected twist and the usual Good Girl Art from Jack Kamen. It's surprising to see one of his stories leading off an issue, but this one is above average and these hard boiled dames are the best!

On the rocket ship Orion-W, Lt. Hartly likes to spend his time tending to his flowers, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew. Egged on by the other men, Lt. Linden plucks a daisy from Hartly's garden and pulls off its petals, skipping around and asking if "she loves me" or "she loves me not." Landing on yet another planet with an Earth-like terrain, the crew spend the night in a clearing, but in the morning one of their team is missing and is later found dead. That night, they discover that they are surrounded by man-eating plants, one of whom picks up Linden and pulls off his limbs, chanting "she loves me,""she loves me not."

Fun times at the offices of bare bonese-zine. ("Gee Dad . . . It's a Daisy!")

I think the title of "Gee Dad . . . It's a Daisy!" is a play on an old ad for a rifle that a boy is given for Christmas. For some reason, I think this story is well-remembered, but today it seems silly to me. Wally's art is outstanding, though, as usual.

A big parade is being held on the main thoroughfare of a city. A young woman leaves her husband's side to do some shopping, figuring that the stores will be empty. As the parade passes by, "The Patriots!" in the crowd around the husband cheer, but he looks on with no expression save a sneer on his face. Assuming he must be a Dirty Commie Red, the men in the crowd beat him to death. His wife returns to the horrible scene and explains to the roughnecks that the man they just killed was a soldier who came to watch his old unit parade by. His face was injured in the war so all he can do is sneer, and he didn't react because he's also blind.

This is the second time this month it feels like Harvey Kurtzman's influence is behind a story. We have a tale here with a strong moral stance, one that Rod Serling would later pick up for any number of Twilight Zone scripts. Jack Davis does a respectable job of drawing normal people.

Scene at a Trump rally. ("The Patriots!")

Ann Dennis takes a job as matron to the children of Briarwood Orphan Asylum and is soon struck by the terrible condition of the place. The children are miserable, poorly fed wretches who are dressed in rags, but Mr. Critchit, who runs the place, says that's all he can afford on the money he's given. Ann uses her own income to supplement the meager stipend she gets and the children's lives improve measurably, but with "Halloween!" approaching, they would like a pumpkin to carve into a festive jack-o'-lantern. Of course, Critchit says he can't afford it. Ann finds proof that he's been stealing the money that should go to the kiddies and, when he discovers her in his office, he threatens her. But it's the children to the rescue! They take care of Mr. Critchit once and for all, severing his head and hollowing it out to make a lovely Critch-o'-lantern.

Robert Redford as David

by Jack Seabrook

James Bridges began his career as a screenwriter with his work for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour and, with 16 episodes to his credit, wrote more teleplays for the hour-long series than anyone else. Born in Arkansas in 1936, he acted in a handful of TV episodes and movies in the 1950s (including Invasion of the Saucer Men). He was also a playwright and, when Norman Lloyd saw one of his plays in Los Angeles, he hired Bridges to write for the Hitchcock TV series. Among the episodes written by Bridges were "The Jar," which was nominated for an Emmy in 1964 (Outstanding Writing Achievement in Drama [Adaptation]) and "An Unlocked Window," which won an Edgar in 1966 (Best Episode in a TV Series).

First edition

After The Alfred Hitchcock Hour came to an end in 1965, Bridges began to write screenplays and, in 1970, he began to direct his own films. Aided by his partner Jack Larson (Jimmy Olsen on The Adventures of Superman), Bridges had a successful career in film and on TV. Highlights included The Paper Chase (1973) and The China Syndrome (1979); he received Academy Award nominations for both films and The Paper Chase was followed by a TV series that Bridges also created. Sadly, James Bridges developed cancer and died in 1993 at the age of 57.

The first episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour written by James Bridges was "A Tangled Web," based on the 1956 novel of the same name. An introductory note by Nicholas Blake says that the story follows "in broad outline a criminal cause celebre of the early years of the century," but I have not been able to figure out what true crime story he means.

The novel takes place in London, where a beautiful 17-year-old girl named Daisy Bland has a chance meeting with Hugo Chesterman, a 28-year-old man who admits that he is a "bad hat" but whom she finds charming. She moves in with him and gradually learns that he is a minor criminal, a cat burglar with a violent temper. Turning 18, she meets Hugo's friend John Jacques, known as Jacko, an older doctor and impotent abortionist who tips Hugo off to burglary opportunities. Daisy is innocent and maintains her faith in Hugo, even when she suspects that he has given her a piece of stolen jewelry.

Zohra Lampert as Marie (Daisy)

A meeting with Hugo's brother Mark and Mark's wife Gertrude goes badly; Hugo is the family black sheep and he pulls a gun when Gertrude is rude to Daisy. After Daisy confides her fears to Jacko, a robbery is botched and she and Hugo move to a seedy part of town and lie low. Daisy gets pregnant and decides to keep the baby, even though she does not press Hugo to marry her. The couple go on holiday to the beach at Southbourne, were Hugo hears of a woman who keeps expensive jewelry at home. In another failed robbery attempt, a police inspector is shot and killed. Hugo denies involvement but insists on running away, telling Daisy that the police will be sure to suspect him. Daisy helps Hugo bury the gun at the beach and Mark and Jacko help him escape.

The police began to search for the killer. Daisy stays with Jacko, convinced of Hugo's innocence, but Jacko goes to the police and informs on Hugo, leading to his arrest. Jacko lies to a distraught Daisy about how her lover was apprehended. Though no one can identify Hugo in a police lineup, he is charged with the murder anyway, and Jacko tells Daisy that she cannot visit him in jail and that she must tell the police the truth. When questioned, she provides no alibi for Hugo on the night of the murder and, at a preliminary hearing, her testimony is the strongest evidence against Hugo.

Barry Morse as Karl (Jacko)

Realizing what she has done, Daisy seeks out Hugo's lawyer and says that she was coerced into giving false testimony. At trial, she changes her story but Hugo is convicted and sentenced to death. The day before he is to be hanged, Hugo finally confesses to Daisy.

A Tangled Web is an interesting novel that focuses on the relationship between three main characters. Daisy Bland is a young flower whose innocence leads her to fall in love with a criminal and to remain blind to his flaws, even in the face of overwhelming evidence. Hugo is a bad seed who is redeemed only by his love for Daisy; despite a violent streak that causes him to murder a policeman, he confesses his guilt to Daisy at the end of the book and demonstrates that, in loving her, he has finally found a way to put the needs of another person ahead of his own. The villain of the story is Jacko, who betrays his friend Hugo in part because he desires Daisy and in part because he hates their happiness. Jacko is described as an older, degenerate man--he is a doctor who performs abortions, which were illegal in 1956 England. His decision to inform on Hugo to the police leads to Hugo being captured; his testimony at trial leads to his conviction. Worst of all, he manipulates Daisy so that she gives evidence to ensure Hugo's conviction.

Karl removes his own wig

Like The Thirty-First of February, by Julian Symons, A Tangled Web is a crime novel that deals with the psychological problems of its characters and is not focused on mystery and detection. Its author, Nicholas Blake, was a pseudonym for Cecil Day Lewis (1904-1972), British poet laureate from 1968 to 1972 and father of the actor, Daniel Day Lewis. Born in Ireland, Lewis wrote his first book of poetry in 1925 and later served as a professor at Oxford and Harvard Universities. During his long career as a writer, he wrote poetry, novels and literary criticism and worked as an editor and a translator. Under the name of Nicholas Blake, he wrote many crime novels, starting in 1935, most of which feature amateur detective Nigel Strangeways. Critic Anthony Boucher wrote that Lewis/Blake's stature among mystery novelists was at least as high as his stature among poets. While several of his novels were adapted for film or television, A Tangled Web is the only one that was adapted for the Hitchcock series.

The TV episode, "A Tangled Web," works on many levels and demonstrates that Norman Lloyd made a wise choice when he hired James Bridges to work as a writer for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour. Premiering on CBS on Friday, January 25, 1963, the show was directed by Alf Kjellin and stars Robert Redford as David Chesterman, Zohra Lampert as Marie Petit, and Barry Morse as Karl Gault--these three characters correspond to Hugo, Daisy and Jacko in the novel. The script by Bridges is not so much an adaptation of Blake's novel as a re-imagining; he preserves the relationships between the characters and the basic outline of the plot while turning the story into something rather different and successful.

Gertrude Flynn as David's mother

Set in an unnamed American city (Beacon Hill is mentioned at one point, suggesting Boston as a location, but later the characters plan to flee to Mexico, which argues against the Northeast), the first scene shows David being surprised in the act of robbing a woman's house. We next see him at home, where he lives in luxury with his mother. When she catches him kissing Marie, the French maid, he declares that they are to be married and she throws him out. The first flash of David's violent temper is seen when he throws a vase at his mother and it smashes on the wall, narrowly missing her head. This scene establishes that David comes from a privileged background, that he makes impetuous decisions, and that he can turn violent in an instant. It also shows that Marie is an innocent--rather than a 17-year-old girl, as in the novel, here she is a French maid, whose foreign background and discomfort with the language erect a barrier between her and the world she now inhabits. Zohra Lampert was 25 years old when she played this role, making her considerably older than the character in the novel. Her beauty in the show comes from her smile and her mannerisms, unlike the Daisy of the novel, whose striking physical beauty was apparent to all who saw her.

The third key character in the show is introduced next, when David and Marie visit Karl Gault, who owns a wig shop and lives in the rooms behind it. The wigs symbolize his false nature and he wears hairpieces on and off throughout the show. Like Marie, he speaks with a heavy accent that is probably meant to be French; the name Gault is of Norman origin, suggesting his descent from earlier invaders of Britain. Gault is a complex character: on the surface, he appears to be in love with Marie, but there is a strong indication that he may be a coded gay character whose real interest is in David. When Karl first meets Daisy, he tells David, in a way that seems to be joking, "I declare my love for her here and now. I'm going to steal her from you." His actions later prove the truth of this statement. Karl is a tortured soul, who admits that he once believed in happiness but now thinks that "love does not exist." David views him as a father figure, telling him that "we can't get married . . . unless you say yes," but in this case the father lusts after the daughter in law and perhaps after the son as well.

Gender reversal

David and Marie are married between this scene and the next one, something we only know because in the next scene David refers to them being on their honeymoon and calls Marie "Mrs." James Bridges wrote the script in an elliptical, impressionistic way, leaving out important events in order to spend time with the characters in scenes that probe their relationships. At a carnival, the newlyweds seem happy together and pose for a silly photo that shows her head above a cutout of a man's body and his head above a cutout of a woman's. This suggests a female role for David, and Karl will take this photograph and make devilish use of it. At the carnival, a young man insults Marie and David again displays his sudden and violent temper, beating the man severely. He is about to smash a bottle of acid in the man's face when Marie calls to him and he stops; she is the only one able to tame his rage. As David, Robert Redford gives a strong performance, his expressive face showing the turmoil inside the character's mind.

Karl's darts target David

Back at Karl's apartment, Marie remarks that "David only kills with kisses," showing her innocence and foreshadowing her husband's later, murderous act. Karl responds that this is "the most painful kind of death"--as Judas would betray Jesus with a kiss, so Karl will betray David with the words that escape from his lips. David comments that "the camera never lies," meaning that his solemn expression in the carnival photo shows his true nature, yet the picture of him dressed as a woman is taken by Karl and pinned to a dart board. He then throws darts at David's face, suggesting that he intends to eliminate the man as a rival for Marie's affections and perhaps symbolically committing sexual violence against David. At this moment, Karl removes his own wig, as if to reveal his genuine self: a balding, middle-aged man who sneers when he hears the young couple laughing in the next room.

In another instance of foreshadowing, Marie compares her own hair to the hair in one of Karl's wigs; she will later sell her hair to raise money to help David. Returning to his mother's house, David uses his burglar tools to break in, then leaves Marie there alone to go to meet someone on business. Not wanting to be by herself, the young woman goes to see Karl, whom she finds putting makeup on the disembodied head of a mannequin. When Marie remarks on how dark his rooms are, he tells her that "We are creatures of the dark, my dear." Karl reveals to Marie that David is "an accomplished, professional thief" and she returns to David's mother's home to find him wounded, shot in the arm during a burglary. She tells him that she will leave him but he argues that he is only stealing because he now has a wife to support.

Karl's knife slices through David's name

There is another jump forward in time, and David, Marie and Karl celebrate David's birthday at Karl's home. Karl cuts the cake, the knife slicing through David's name written in icing--another symbolic, sexual attack? David has gone straight after his injury and Karl tells him, "You're so respectable! It makes me sick!" (Karl has a habit of stating the truth in a jesting tone.) Marie tells Karl that "You're wrong--love does exist!" but when she leaves the room, David confesses to Karl that he quit his job without telling his wife. Karl admits that "love does exist" but makes this statement while staring directly at Marie, suggesting that his love is directed at the wife of his friend. Karl gives David another tip, this time about a wealthy woman who has died and is to be buried in her expensive jewelry. David rushes off to commit the crime. He enters the funeral home and approaches her casket, breaking another taboo: he is caught in the act of removing jewelry from an unseen corpse.

A television news report follows and explains that the caretaker at the funeral home was murdered and a scarf with the initials "D.C." was found beside the body. This scene parallels the earlier scene where David was caught in the act of burglary and then listened to a radio news report about his own crime. David admits the robbery to Marie but denies the murder and flees. In the next scene, Karl is working with a woman who is having trouble selecting a wig. She admires Marie's hair and Marie agrees to sell it to her for $200. Karl cuts her hair off and then styles it; as he works on her body in this intimate fashion he asks her what love feels like and admits that "I know what the opposite of love feels like. What the real core of love is like I don't know."

Joan Houseman as the woman who buys Marie's hair

David returns and he and Marie leave to head for Mexico, but as soon as they are out the door, Karl picks up the phone and calls the police. Bridges's script is elliptical again here, for in the next scene David is already being held in prison, where Marie pays him a visit and David warns Marie that Karl is in love with her. More time passes between scenes and now David's trial is underway. Karl gives Marie sleeping pills to knock her out and then testifies in court, sealing Karl's doom, Close-ups of Karl on the witness stand are intercut with shots of Marie struggling between sleep and waking. Karl testifies that David "told me he had killed the caretaker" and a very tight closeup of his mouth shows his lips curling up into a cruel smile.

Marie's hand grabs the dart to stab Karl-- notice how many holes are in David's face now

Karl returns home with flowers and a gift, telling Marie that David is guilty and will be sentenced that afternoon. Karl makes a play for Marie but then confesses that "I hate David! I hate your love for each other!" He tries to force himself on her and she is pressed up against the wall where the dart board hangs; she pulls the dart from David's photo and stabs Karl with it before escaping. Marie rushes to the courtroom, which is empty but for a reporter and a photographer. Frantic, she climbs out of a window and onto a ledge, high above the street, threatening to jump if David does not come to talk to her. He is brought in and finally tells the truth, noting that "the only happiness I've had in my life has been our love." Marie climbs back in through the window and they embrace, the story coming to an end as she forgives him.

Marie threatens to jump

"A Tangled Web" is an excellent short film that shows how a creative approach to adaptation can bring a novel alive on the small screen. In addition to the fine script by James Bridges, the show benefits from strong acting by the three leads and from clever direction by Alf Kjellin, whose shot choices are unobtrusive but succeed in telling the story quickly and effectively. When he does use an unusual shot, such as the tight closeups on Karl on the witness stand, it works very well. The gay subtext is not buried very deep and adds an interesting element to the show, since Bridges himself was a gay man writing in Hollywood at a time when the topic was still taboo. The title, "A Tangled Web," comes from the epic poem, Marmion (1808) by Sir Walter Scott: "Oh, what a tangled web we weave/When first we practice to deceive!" Each of the three main characters weaves a web of lies that leads to destruction. David Chesterman withholds the truth of his profession from Marie and then lies about the murder; Marie lies to herself about David's profession and accepts his lie about the murder; and Karl lies to Marie about his actions that send David to death. Does he also deceive David and himself about where his attractions really lie?

Karl's testimony begins with a closeup

Then the camera gets closer

Until it focuses on his lying lips

That curl into a smile after he has sealed his friend's fate

Alf Kjellin (1920-1988), who directed "A Tangled Web," was a Swedish actor/director who directed 12 episodes of the Hitchcock series, including "The Thirty-First of February."

As David Chesterman, Robert Redford (1936- ) is both charming and dangerous. This was one of three appearances he made on the Hitchcock show, including "The Right Kind of Medicine."

Zohra Lampert (1937- ) gives a likable performance as Marie. Born in New York City, she appeared on stage and her career on screen began in 1954 and continues today. She is currently married to New York radio DJ Jonathan Schwartz.

The broken taboo that leads to David's downfall

Giving an excellent, nuanced performance as Karl, Barry Morse (1918-2008) adds another memorable part to his long screen career. Born in London, he worked on stage and in radio and he was on screen from 1942 to 2007, with but a single appearance on the Hitchcock show and appearances on The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits. He is best known for his co-starring roles on The Fugitive (1963-1967) and Space: 1999 (1975-1976). A website devoted to him may be found here.

"A Tangled Web" is dominated by Redford, Lampert and Morse, but two other actresses make an impression in short scenes. Gertrude Flynn (1909-1996) plays David's mother, who tosses a handful of coins on the floor and tells him to "buy a toaster" as her wedding present. Flynn had a long career on stage and was on screen from 1952 to 1987. She appeared in five episodes of the Hitchcock series, including "Party Line" and "The Second Wife."

The small role of the woman who ends up buying Marie's hair to make a wig for herself is played by Joan Houseman (1916-2001), the wife of actor/director John Houseman. She only has three credits on IMDb, including "A Tangled Web." According to Jack Larson, James Bridges was a protege of John Houseman, so it is possible that their connection led to Mrs. Houseman being hired for this episode. Years later, Bridges asked Houseman to act in The Paper Chase, a role that made him famous and led to many other acting roles in the latter years of his career.

"A Tangled Web" is not currently available online or on a DVD released in the U.S.

Sources:


In two weeks: "The Star Juror," starring Dean Jagger and Betty Field!

The DC War Comics 1959-1976 by Corporals Enfantino and Seabrook

Kubert

 Our Army at War 183

"Sergeants Don't Stay Dead!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Russ Heath

"Invisible Sniper!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Neal Adams

Jack: A cartoonist is following Easy Company, drawing pictures from the war, when he is killed in an attack by a Nazi plane. Sgt. Rock sees that his last work was a sheet with three drawings of Rock himself, as a soldier in the American Revolution, the Civil War, and World War One. Rock is knocked out in a battle with a tank and dreams that he's fighting in each of the wars the cartoonist pictured. Every time, he fights to the death and earns the enemy's admiration, but "Sergeants Don't Stay Dead!" and he wakes up on the tank to find the rest of the men of Easy Co. finishing the job for him.

"Sergeants Don't Stay Dead!"

As I read this story, I thought "Gee, it would be neat if Sgt. Rock dreamed he was in each of those wars!" Apparently, Bob Kanigher was listening to me, because that's right where the story went. Yes, it's a bit predictable and repetitive, but Heath outdoes himself in drawing the different uniforms and battles, so it's a fun read.

A Nazi named Hans Ritter acted on the stage before the war, so when his commander asks him to become an "Invisible Sniper!" in order to kill some G.I.s and give the rest of his men time to escape from a village, Hans relishes the role. His disguise as an old woman works out fine but when he dresses as an American soldier and forgets he's still holding his German rifle, it's time to ring down the curtain.

A rather exciting story, this, featuring more art by the great Neal Adams. It's thrilling to see him at the start of his career and he already shows a great sense of pacing and outstanding skill at drawing faces.

"Invisible Sniper!"

Peter: Neither script is much of  a winner. The Rock story seems awfully familiar but I may be confusing it with the silly Viking story from a few months ago. "Invisible Sniper!" is palatable but Howard Liss falls victim to one of the most egregious Kanigh-errors, that of driving a line of dialogue home time after time until it becomes tedious (in this case, "I have fooled the Amerikaners because I am a supreme actor!"). The reveal, in the last panel, when the G.I. comments on the Nazi's foolish blunder, might have worked better if it wasn't already shown to us on the previous page. But all is not lost thanks to two of the best artists of the 1960s. Heath continues to adapt to Sgt. Rock (after a "rocky start" some months ago); yes, Kubert fans, I know he'll never be Joe but at least Rock is starting to look like Rock and not Doc Savage. Neal Adams just seems to be getting better every successive month, showing some of those visual flairs that will soon be put to insanely good use on Batman.

Heath

 G.I. Combat 125

"Stay Alive--Until Dark!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Russ Heath

"Clay Pigeon Sub!"
Story Uncredited
Art by Russ Heath
(from Our Army at War #47, June 1956)

Peter: The Allieds have one heck of a problem: the Nazis have blown the hell out of the tin can population and the Jeb Stuart is one of only a handful left in the entire sector. The C.O. radios his orders: "Stay Alive--Until Dark!" and fool the enemy into thinking that four tanks are actually forty. It's a suicide mission for certain but no man shirks his duty and the Jeb Stuart rolls toward the French village of Crecy. Along the way, the Jeb fights off a multitude of German tanks and bombers with the help of the ghostly General Jeb Stuart. At last arriving at Crecy, the Jeb battles much larger German tanks but beats the odds and survives until nightfall. Heading for home, they save a couple of G.I.s about to be flattened by an enemy tank. Turns out to be Jeb's old buddy, Sgt. Rock. The two men muse about survival in World War II as the sun goes down.

"Stay Alive--Until Dark!"

Great work from Russ Heath

A thoroughly enjoyable and exciting adventure; I'd have to say, in fact, that this is the best Haunted Tank story I've ever read. It just has all the right ingredients: gorgeous art, snappy dialogue that avoids the usual Kanigher-isms (aside from the requisite panel that shows Jeb's comrades doubting his sanity) and edge-of-the-seat danger. When the boys shoot down an attacking Messerschmitt and the tank is covered in burning wreckage, you can almost feel the heat and claustrophobia within the Jeb. The spirited General, usually given a two- or three-panel cameo at best, actually gives his descendant some advice that means something this time (at one point the ghost tells Jeb he's been assigned as his guardian angel which, when I thought about how little help the dead guy gives, made me chuckle). He's almost a spectral version of Marvel's Watcher. And, again, I can't say enough about Russ's art here; that final panel is a stunner.

Jack: The story has a good premise and the scene in part one where the tank is overheated by flaming hunks of plane is genuinely exciting. It's good to see the ghost giving more help than usual and I also like the panels where tanks smash through the walls of houses. One question, though, about tank warfare in general--don't they make a lot of noise? It makes me wonder how tanks can ever sneak up on each other.

"Clay Pigeon Sub!"

Peter: U.S. submarine, the Shark, is stuck above water and is a "Clay Pigeon Sub!," a sitting duck for any passing enemy ship. The skipper uses his know-how to get his men through some dangerous scrapes and manages to get the sub back where it belongs: on the ocean's bottom. Unfortunately, once there, another snafu occurs when their propeller gets stuck in the mud! Again, the skipper's smarts get them through the scrape and the Shark ends up blowing a key Nazi Wolf sub to hell. It's amazing to see how far Russ Heath had come in a decade; the art is well done but doesn't really show the Heath flare he'd later exhibit. The story kept me involved but it's jammed full of those moments when you doubt the enemy could ever hit a target they were aiming at.

Jack: I read this without looking at the credits and I could tell it was a reprint right away. The stories from the '50s in DC war comics are less complex and the art is more straightforward. It's a good thing Heath signed it; one panel looked like Ross Andru's work to me.

More Heath

Novick

Our Fighting Forces 108

"Kill the Wolf Pack!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Abel

"Flying Jeep!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Ross Andru and Mike Esposito
(Reprinted from Our Army at War #47, June 1956)

Jack: D-Day is only days away but the Nazis have U-boats guarding the French coast in pens with concrete walls. Lt. Hunter and his Hellcats are assigned to "Kill the Wolf Pack!" by driving a fishing boat into enemy waters so that it will get captured and taken to be docked near the U-boats. What the Nazis don't know is that the boat has a false hull and is packed with TNT, which blows sky high as planned and destroys the U-boats.

The Hellcats then steal a Nazi jeep to head 20 miles to a hilltop, where they are to be rescued by a plane. The Nazis give chase, so the Hellcats commandeer a Nazi tank and make it to their rendezvous point. Nazi Major Von Kramm follows them, angry that they destroyed his submarine base. The Hellcats win a machine gun battle and get to the plane, though Von Kramm tries one last, desperate leap to stop Lt. Hunter. The lieutenant ducks and Von Kramm is chopped to bits by an airplane's propeller. The Hellcats get away safely, ready for another suicide mission.

"Kill the Wolf Pack!"

One need only look back two months to Our Army at War 181 to see the last time someone was killed off by being chopped up by propeller blades. This latest episode of Hunter's Hellcats is by the numbers--not awful but not memorable, either.

Peter: Only three chapters in and "Hunter's Hellcats" has become Hogan's Heroes with its bad one-liners and inept adventures. Abel's art is no better.

Jack: Since he was a kid, Lennie Brown always missed his target. Now that he's in the Army, the same thing keeps happening. He falls into the drink instead of landing on an assault boat, but while he's under water he blows up a Nazi sub with TNT that was meant for his own boat. Told to drive a jeep to the next town, he encounters Nazi gunfire and the jeep is destroyed. Later, as a paratrooper, his parachute is shot full of holes, but he lands in a jeep that is also descending by parachute. From the jeep's front seat, he blasts a Nazi plane out of the air. Why does his commanding officer keep complaining? Lennie single handedly saved a boat full of soldiers and destroyed an enemy plane! The story doesn't make a lot of sense but, for some reason, the Andru and Esposito art of 1956 is much easier to take than their art of the 1960s.

Peter: "Flying Jeep!" is at least a bit enjoyable and the 1956  Andru and Esposito team was certainly better than in 1966. A singularly unremarkable issue of Our Fighting Forces. More interesting is the letters page, where we find missives from super-fan Arnold (Arnie) Fenner and future Marvel editor Al Milgrom. Al suggests that Big Bob should bring back the 1940s junior war gang, the Boy Commandos, seeing as how "revivals are quite big today." Al would get his wish but he'd have to wait twenty years until Len Wein would use the BCs in his Blue Beetle reboot.

"Flying Jeep!"

Jack: DC also revived the Boy Commandos in the early '70s as a short-lived reprint series.

Heath

 Star Spangled War Stories 134

"The Killing Ground!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Neal Adams

"Ace of the Death Cloud!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Abel

Peter: Lt. Blake has come under fire for being soft and Ensign Frye is itching to take command of their PT boat but more pressing matters appear on the blue horizon: prehistoric monster dinosaurs from the stone age at the dawn of time have suddenly surfaced between the PT and the destroyer that had been dogging them, making the Pacific "The Killing Ground!" Sea serpents drag the destroyer to the bottom of the ocean, kayoing one threat to our boys, but then a giant octopus wraps its deadly tentacles around the little boat. Only a synchronized volley of TNT cupcakes blasts the octopus into diner's portions. Through a haze of fog, the men spot an island and decide to investigate. Approaching, they are fired on by the enemy, who had obviously ensconced themselves on this little good-for-nothing plot of ground. Suddenly, a giant Platiobrontosaur crushes the machine-gunners with a well-placed tree before turning its attention to the pretty floating thing just offshore. Luckily, the men are able to destroy the stone-age nightmare creature with a well-synchronized volley of TNT rumballs; unluckily, the beast holds fast to the PT. Waiting for the tide to come in and float them to safety, the Lt. and his men wade ashore to look for more snipers. Just then, a pterodactyl swoops in and carries away the Ensign and the Lt. feels obliged to search for him. Frye is rescued just before he is to be consumed by two very hungry birds. The men make their way back to the PT, confident that their Ensign now feels as though the skipper is the man for the job.

"The Killing Ground!"

There's no denying that Neal Adams was a major talent even in his very early days; his dinos are fabulously detailed and the action scenes are among the best we've seen in this series. There's also no denying that this series spotlights some of the laziest writing in Bob Kanigher's career. You can argue that "G.I.s vs. Dinosaurs" is an extremely limited concept but, for goodness sake, couldn't the guy have tried now and then to elevate this above kid's stuff? The animosity between Blake and Frye is laughable; there's no real reason given for Frye's objection to Blake's service other than a desire to lead the men himself. I get that; how could I not since it's hammered home time and again (even, in the story's most inane moment, as the Ensign is being spirited away by a carnivorous beast!). Maybe there was some incident just prior to the story's opening that precipitates what, at best, could be seen as rambunctiousness and, at worst, as mutiny, but we're not privy to any such event. It's a shame to waste such dazzling visuals on the same old thing.

Jack: Adams's creative page layouts are impressive and point the way forward to the great work he would soon do for DC and Marvel. He must have had a Big Book of Dinosaurs on his drawing table when he penciled this story, because he sure provides a smorgasbord of monsters for our entertainment. The pterodactyl was good practice for his depiction of Sauron two years later in X-Men 60 and 61.

"Ace of the Death Cloud!"

Peter: Captain Brown swears he shot up the Flying Dutchman but the ace disappears into an eerie black cloud and is never seen again. That is, until Brown is training a new fighter pilot, Bill Hall, and the two planes enter the same black cloud; there, waiting for Brown, is the "Ace of the Death Cloud!" The Dutchman dispatches Brown and leaves Hall, swearing vengeance on the ghostly Fokker. At last, Hall has his moment with destiny and finds the Dutchman while patrolling the skies. To ensure he gets the infamous killer, he rams the Dutchman and the two planes fall to the ground. A nicely-placed haystack softens the blow but, when Hall comes to and tries to convince his comrades he took down the Dutchman, the boys point out that the only wreckage is Bill's Spad. As he sifts through the rubble, Bill Hall finds the insignia of the Flying Dutchman buried in the twisted metal. I'm a sucker for these Weird War Tales, even when they don't make much sense and Jack Abel, once again, amazes me with his seesawing art. How can this guy be so bad in some instances and, as here, so good in others?

Jack: I guess we have to grade Jack Abel's art on a curve--is it Good Abel or Bad Abel? If you compare it to the art by Neal Adams in the first story, it falls woefully short. Still, this is definitely Good Abel, and the WWI planes sure do look cool in the flying scenes. The ghostly aspect is also welcome, as you point out.

More Adams!

Kubert

Our Army at War 184

"Candidate for a Firing Squad!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert

"Invasion Beach Taxi!"
Story by Bob Haney
Art by Russ Heath
(Reprinted from Our Army at War #44, March 1956)

Jack: Sgt. Rock and the men of Easy Co. are about to execute a "Candidate for a Firing Squad!" named Vic Smith, a deserter who mocks their guns. Just then, Nazi paratroopers attack! Easy Co. defeats the enemy and, rather than shooting Smith, Rock decides to take him to HQ and let the brass decide what to do with him.

On the way to HQ, Rock takes a bullet from a Nazi plane while protecting Smith. Little Sure Shot saves Smith from a land mine and Wee Willie is killed when he jumps in front of Smith and takes a Nazi bullet. When a tank flattens Easy Co., Smith attacks it on his own and is killed saving Rock and his men. As he dies, he sees Rock saluting him as a real soldier.

"Candidate for a Firing Squad!"

Russ Heath does a great job filling in for Joe Kubert on Sgt. Rock, but there's nothing like the real thing, as the old song goes. The death of Wee Willie is a shock, since he's a real character that we've gotten to know over the months and years, not just a new recruit thrown in for an issue to be killed off. Smith's epiphany is believable and the plotting works out when he dies, since he was a man marked for death from the start.

"Invasion Beach Taxi!"

A soldier who drives an "Invasion Beach Taxi!" feels like he never gets to engage in battle, since he just runs a ship back and forth ferrying men from ships to the tide line. What he doesn't seem to realize is that he serves as an example of heroism for the men--fixing a motor under fire, tossing a grenade back at a frogman, and machine-gunning an enemy plane out of the sky. A reprint from 1956, this story shows strong writing by Bob Haney and solid, early work by Heath, rounding out a fine issue of Our Army at War.

Peter: Both Big Bob and Sgt. Rock are stuck in a rut. "Candidate" is another poor script with the requisite touches--awkward shout out to the title (twice), Easy blasting a Nazi plane from the sky yet avoiding immolation, and the same message (every G.I. is equal as long as they wear the uniform) hammered home ad infinitum. Even Joe's work here is a bit sketchy. I liked the reprint much more with its "the grass is always greener . . ." message and, of course, Russ's art is easy on the eyes.

Next Week: A pack of Jack Kamen fans finally catches up to Peter

Kurtzman

Frontline Combat #6

"A Platoon!" ★★★
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by John Severin and Will Elder

"War of 1812!" ★★★
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by Wally Wood

"Ace!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by John Severin

"Bellyrobber!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by Jack Davis

A platoon is made up of many parts, and big Ed Daley, machine gun operator, is one of the cogs that make up the vast clockwork. He and his fellow soldiers are inching their way across Korean territory one frosty early morn when one young scrapper inquires why Ed, with all of his vast army experience, steadfastly turns down the captain’s repeated offers to give Daley a sergeant’s rate. “I don’t want no responsibilities!” Ed tells him, quoting that the rate would indeed give him a raise in salary, but it would also entail a hike in obligations and with very little glory to boot. Ed would much rather worry about his machine gun and keep his life simple. But life becomes anything but simple when an enemy mortar lands right on the heads of the captain, the lieutenants, the sergeants, and all the squad leaders! At the drop of a helmet, Daley immediately takes control of the situation and whips his assistants into an assured, fighting mood just as a raging horde of enemy soldiers barrel their way. Miraculously, the Americans mow down the offense and send the survivors running for cover. Later, a wounded captain puts Daley on the spot again, calling out the machine gunner’s heroism and rallying spirit as evidence for a much-needed promotion. But you know Ed: it’s the simple life for him!

First picture: What in tarnation...?! Second picture: I GOT THIS. ("A Platoon!")

The Severin/Elder magic is at work again in “A Platoon!,” a solid tale whose only misstep is depicting the practical immolation of the captain and his pals before revealing later that ol’ Cap managed to get out of the multiple explosions in one relative piece. Still, this is a minor quibble among a lot of very fine other points that are in the story's favor. "A Platoon" is the rare EC war story that depicts a fairly happy ending, with the boys heading off for the next leg of their advance and Ed contentedly hefting the machine gun on his shoulder, but it’s a conclusion that feels earned. Even with playing up Ed as our hero, Kurtzman and the artists keep the story from ever dealing in simple absolutes of good and bad. The creeping advance of the Koreans, followed by their howling rush onto Ed and his gunners, seem to mark them as the malevolent Goliath figure to the outnumbered American Davids, but the reader is brought back to reality and the casual viciousness of war when a sole Korean troop, blindly unaware of the deaths of all his buddies, breaks through the platoon’s ranks only to find himself alone amongst the enemy. He is then summarily executed by their heavy artillery. It’s a little detail, but one indicative of the constant strain of humanism that Kurtzman brought to his war stories. Just like that, the defined marker separating “enemy” from “hero” begins to blur.

"War of 1812!"

During the “War of 1812!,” a wounded Shawnee warrior, Ki-wi-ex-kim, huddles down in the bloody snow recounting the sorry events that brought him to his current state. A large congregation consisting of English red-coats, led by General Proctor, and Native American tribes ranging from the Miamis of Florida to the Wyandots of Canada, led by their wisest and bravest of chiefs Tecumsah, waits for the imminent arrival of the “Shemanthe,” a veritable country of vengeful white men from Kentucky who come bearing appropriated Indian weaponry to avenge themselves on the indigenous people for killing and scalping their own brethren in previous battles. The odds don’t look good for the congregation, but like Ed Daley before him in this issue Tecumsah unites all his warrior brothers with hearty assurance and sage guidance, giving his men all the bravery they need to face the overwhelming numbers of the enemy. When the “Shemanthe” arrive, the forest turns into a slaughterhouse. The British forces are savagely trampled, General Proctor taking to the hills, and though they fight valiantly the Native Americans wage a grim battle. Their hearts “turn to water” at the sight of their great chief being felled by a bullet and, with the rest of his frightened brothers, Ki-wi-ex-kim runs into the swamp in retreat. He now waits for death to claim him from his own bullet wound, but just as he is contemplating the incredible contributions of Tecumsah, a lurking “Shemanthe” introduces the warrior’s scalp to his long knife.

Another of Wood's incredible dioramas. ("War of 1812!")

We’ve seen the “dying narration” tact used before in the previous issue of FC (“Big ‘If’ ”), but the approach feels new and is delivered with effective solemnity in “War of 1812!” I myself had little knowledge of this particular historical event, and instead of the inundation of facts and statistics that Kurtzman’s classroom presentations sometimes have we get an account that feels more emotionally charged than others of its type. Wally Wood’s art goes a long way in aiding this cause, though his pencils have graced the pages of other pre-20th century “battle capsules” that were less than stellar. It’s hard to find a moral foothold in this particular story and, I suppose by extension, this particular war. The “Shemanthe,” as far as we are told, are essentially getting payback for the family members who were not only killed but mutilated by the Indian tribes. This doesn’t pardon their retributive actions, but it does make one question the notion that Ki-wi-ex-kim is our de facto hero/victim by virtue of his lamenting narration. Like the doubting soldier from “Custer’s Last Stand” in this month’s Two-Fisted Tales who followed through on orders despite what his gut was telling him, Ki-wi-ex-kim can’t be entirely seen as an angel. (“Who can in war?” Kurtzman likely would ask.) This marks his brutal, sadistically-timed fate at the hands of the “Shemanthe” not as a stinging injustice but as the (unlikely) final revolution in a vicious cycle.

"Ace!"

The two stories that follow are otherwise stable efforts that are hampered by some truly lackluster art by John Severin and Jack Davis. In “Ace!,” WWI fighter pilot Harry Chesterfield is close to bagging the kill of his fifth German, an accomplishment much-lauded amongst his merry, sporting British comrades. When Harry spots two roaming German albatrosses that look too good to be true, he quickly finds out that they are. After successfully gunning one of them down, he’s attacked by four fokkers that have been lying in wait for the American. Back at the British base later, the usual dinnertime banter is somewhat subdued as all the pilots regard Harry’s empty seat at the table. Kurtzman’s script clips along at a nice pace, using repetition to effectively bring us back to the jolliness that the pilots treat their whole “hunting” affair, but Severin’s illustrations, especially of his human cast, are too pencil-thin and desolate for my liking. It hampers what is essentially a very good story that casts a cloud of stark reality over the glib attitude of treating war as just another chess match on a bigger scale.

The aims are not quite so pointed in “Bellyrobber!” Sergeant Boon acts as chief chef for a company of soldiers stationed out in one of the arid stretches of Korea. He is humorously known amongst the troops as being a notorious hardass, barking orders and frothing at the lips come every meal-time. When Boon and his assistants return to the mess-camp one afternoon, they sense an intruder in the tent and advance with weapons and curses raised. It turns out the interloper is a young Korean child, alone and completely hungry. Boon takes an immediate shine to the tyke, whom he nicknames “Shnooker,” and over the next few weeks furbishes the kid with everything from food to tailored military clothes. The troops note the marked improvement in Boon’s demeanor and hope that the trend will continue. Heading back to the mess-camp on foot, Boon detects yet another intrusion, only now the trespassers are genuine Korean soldiers, both of whom are cut in half by gunfire from an overwhelmed Boon. As the troops coming to his aid find out, Boon’s assistants have been murdered, as well as another man. “Not much of a man,” Boon gasps. “Just a little half-pint of a man! Just a little Shnooker!” Boon the hardass shortly resumes business as usual.

"Bellyrobber!"

As Peter notes below, “Bellyrobber!” has a bit of wild variance in tone, but I think this stems more from the juxtaposition of narrative and illustrations rather than just the narrative itself. Taken on its own terms, the story is another of Kurtzman’s heart-wrenchers, a swift kick to the solar plexus that shows how warfare spares no man or creature, and how happiness and purpose can sometimes have an incredibly short shelf-life. It’s only when that story is accompanied by Jack Davis’s slapdash, against-form renderings that it feels like “Bellyrobber!” is trying to come off as a slightly comical affair. Sadly, this is mainly due to the reductionist, Yellow Menace depiction of “Shnooker” and the two Korean soldiers. For whatever reason (or whomever’s fault), Davis takes a more distastefully broad approach to the ethnic characters that goes against the sensitivity and realism that he’s brought to past efforts. (“Bellyrobber!” is far from being his first yarn set in Korea or greater Asia.) This definitely doesn’t seem like the fair representation that Kurtzman would have wanted in the story either. So what happened? That factoid, if there is one, is likely lost to the ages, but in either case it knocks “Bellyrobber!” back a few spaces on the board when it could have easily been a flawless victory.--Jose

Lil' Petey Enfantino finds out Mom threw away all the Mike Shaynes. ("Bellyrobber!")

Peter: I'm not sure what to make of "Bellyrobber!" Like M*A*S*H, its message is "War is hell but it can be funny, too," I guess. I didn't think it was comedic and Davis's Shnooker borders on the racial stereotypes that carried on into the DC war comics (Jerry Grandenetti, I'm looking at you), with his big teeth and slanted eyes. Much better are the other three stories in this issue, which all deliver the history lecture and pathos at the same time. In particular, "War of 1812!" is a grueling battle story with an unflinchingly cruel final panel. Kurtzman does a great job of taking us from the highs to the lows of a World War I "Ace!," always bringing us back to that round table and its "knights." Not a great issue, but the best war title of the month.

Jack: When Ed tells his platoon leader that he doesn’t want to be a sergeant because he doesn’t want responsibilities, he makes a lot of sense. Kurtzman then shows us just how useful the experience of a long-time soldier like Ed can be when the officers are suddenly killed and Ed has to take command and stop an enemy attack. Severin and Elder’s art is perfect for these gritty war stories and the end, where Ed happily resumes his role of subordinate, is entirely in keeping with his personality. The “War of 1812!” is a war I know next to nothing about, so this issue’s boring history lesson is made slightly more interesting by its novelty. Wood’s art is tremendous and the ending is brutal, even if not shown in all its gore. Severin without Elder is great, just not as great as Severin with Elder, and “Ace!” features the usual Kurtzman irony. The story is predictable but well told. “Bellyrobber!” is heartbreaking and Jack Davis shows both an ability to wring great emotion out of a situation and a welcome discretion in the panel showing only a partial view of the dead child.

Sgt. Seabrook feels the hurt, too. ("Bellyrobber!")

Feldstein

 Weird Fantasy #13

"The End!" ★★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Wally Wood

"The Trip!" ★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Home to Stay!" ★★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Wally Wood

"Don't Count Your Chickens . . ." ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Joe Orlando

"The End!"

A high-power telescope reveals that a comet is hurtling towards Earth.  Before it can collide with Earth it disintegrates, but the massive radiation leaves all life on our planet sterile. In another generation, all life will vanish. Is this "The End!?" Two scientists are, luckily, working on a time travel machine and devise a plan to go back in time before the comet and transport virile men and women to the future where they can repopulate the planet. They build their gizmo on the site of what once was Grand Central Station, citing the large amounts of foot traffic as the main reason. Unfortunately for the two well-meaning geniuses, they find their portal is located inside the Men’s room! Hilarious final panel and very controversial for its time, since toilets were a taboo subject (note that the only nod to the fact that it's a men's room is the word "MEN" on the door) in mainstream media. Wood's art is customarily excellent (Wally continues to predict that men will wear capes in the "future").

Woops-a-daisy! ("The Trip!")

Scientist Lon Masterson has been hired by the SCA (Space Colonization Authority) to come up with a way to transport animals to Earth's colonies on other planets. Seems that animals can't survive the g-forces that occur during take-off and landing, so Lon creates a machine that freezes its subject in a matter of seconds and then thaws out the animalsicle on the other side. While all this serious science stuff is going on, Lon falls in love with his new assistant, Edith, and decides to leave his wife. The timing couldn't be more perfect for the nutty professor and he proposes to Edith that she join him on "The Trip!" The SCA nixes that idea but Lon is too clever to play by the rules, so he freezes Edith and stores her among the other freezer-section items. Masterson might be a genius but he's not light on his feet and, while decanting Edith, he trips and drops the frozen beauty, reducing her to thousands of ice cubes. A very funny climax (the second in as many stories!) but Jack Kamen's pedestrian art drops the rating at least a half-star. I couldn't help, while gazing at that last panel (where the mayhem happens off-screen), wondering what a horror artist like Davis or Ingels could have done with the final image. I suspect the tame tie-up wasn't intended to be subtle but turned out that way because Bill and Al knew Kamen couldn't pull off the nasty.

Ingels

The Haunt of Fear #13

"For the Love of Death!" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels

"Fed Up!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Johnny Craig

"Minor Error!" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Wolf Bait!" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

Morton Macawber is a lonely man who enjoys attending funerals, admiring the respect and love shown to the deceased but lamenting the likelihood that he will not receive the same treatment when he dies. He decides to take matters into his own hands and, “For the Love of Death!” he murders an old man and arranges to take his place in the coffin. He basks in the comfort and attention but does not reckon with the fact that the old man chose to be cremated.

"For the Love of Death!"

Translation: Jesus H. Christ! ("Minor Error!")

"Wolf Bait!"

Wood

Weird Science #13

"A Weighty Decision" ★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Wally Wood

"Saving for the Future" ★ 1/2
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"He Walked Among Us" ★★ 
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Wally Wood

"Say Your Prayers" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Joe Orlando

Major Jeff Allan is tapped by the General to lead up a super-secret, super-cool mission cryptically dubbed “Operation Moon.” As commanding officer, he will guide a rocket voyage to Earth’s satellite along with two crew mates, Hanson the flight engineer and Forbes the radar operator. The still-in-construction rocket is to be built to exact weight specifications; in order to store enough fuel for a round trip, the vessel’s operating system, the provisions for the crew, and the waistlines of the three men need to be cut down to the bare essentials. As all the planning and prep take place for the momentous flight, Jeff befriends and then begins to woo Mirna Bargson, daughter of the eminent scientist who has charted the entire voyage. Mirna isn’t keen on the sorry survival prospects that her father predicts for the crew, so in a bid to be with her fiancée she secretly stows herself away in the food locker prior to take-off. Relieved of a large chunk of fuel halfway through their flight, the crew tries to determine how they can make the return trip. The possibilities, though grim, are obvious: each man is integral to the operation of the ship, and with Mirna gone their chances of seeing Earth again would be better. The two lovers share a tearful goodbye before Jeff dispatches her to the cold, breathless sea of space.

"A slim chance. You catching my meaning here, Tubby?" ("A Weighty Decision")

“A Weighty Decision” picks up traction in its last third as the space voyagers face the moral quagmire of sending one of their own to their death, but this section still feels a bit too cold to really register with the reader. Obviously this is a story development that is meant to strike an emotional chord in us, but aside from that dewy-eyed farewell there isn’t much emotion to be seen on any of the astronauts’ parts. Feldstein’s story would’ve benefited from less boring shop talk about the rocket ship and more focus on the weighty decision of its title. Tell us the ship has exact weight specifications and then move on.

Lloyd Brewster and his mighty-fine assistant Ellen are happily pumping away at monkeys (don’t ask) one fine day when Ellen bemoans, “Oh! How long shall we go on with this pretentious pretense of ours, Lloydy-Lou? Why can’t we just wake up one day and have a life together far and away from your divorce-denying shrew of a wife?” That line of thinking gives the good doctor a good idea: let’s quit giving the monkeys all the happy juice and use it to put us both in a state of suspended animation. Lloyd proposes that five hundred years should give them enough time to escape his wife’s wrath—ya think?—but, more importantly, it’ll afford them a handsome return on Lloyd’s bank account when the compounded interest builds up over the centuries and leaves him a millionaire in the 26th century. A hideout is staked, a (ridiculous) method for administering the drug is determined (see below), and the two lovebirds awaken to lay claim to the now-infamous bank account and live a life of luxury. But, as it turns out, the national anthem for the world of the future is “Down with the Sickness,” as the entire populace of the earth becomes infected and is killed off by… the common cold! Humankind’s immunity to the virus had died out centuries before, so Lloyd and Ellen are left with their millions to stew together on a dead planet.

"And next he's going to write a Weird Science story!" ("Saving for the Future")

The less said about it, the better. This is clearly a tale that has no idea what it wants to be: typical Kamen yarn about a philandering scientist fudging his experiments? Typical Feldstein apocalypse scenario? Typical Kurtzman schoolroom lesson? All of the above? That it is, and it certainly is a typically bad SF story. It is good for a few laughs, though, and for that reason merits an additional half star.

Kraft is dispatched by the Galactic Exploration Authority to share the wonders of mac’n’cheese study and categorize all the lifeforms upon a new alien planet for a period of four years. Kraft is exploring for all of five minutes when he stumbles upon a race of incredibly human-like beings. Everything from the architecture of their city to the cut of their wardrobe is reminiscent of Earth’s civilization circa three millennia ago. Kraft isn’t in his robe disguise for two seconds before he’s performing “miracles” like healing a sick boy and feeding starving lepers through the benefit of his advanced science. It all looks like a load of witchcraft to the high priests of the city, though, and Kraft is summarily sentenced to death when he shows no signs of relieving his aid. Unfortunately for Kraft, help is nowhere on the way: the ship that dropped him off got a kiss from a raging asteroid on the way back home. It isn’t for another three thousand years (hmm…) that another group of explorers touch down on the same planet and note the presence of a strange talisman adorning many buildings and pieces of jewelry. It is a religious symbol of the messiah, explains the planet’s wise leader, the square talisman representing the stretch rack upon which the holy martyr was killed.

All hail the Lord High Priest, Ozzy Osbourne! ("He Walked Among Them")

Yeah, the Jesus allegory may be older than the hills in this type of story, but “He Walked Among Them” at least has the decency of never overstaying its welcome. And even if we see the payoff coming the minute that Kraft “heals” the sick child, I think the story still has timely power of showing us that certain bastions of mankind—or, at least, a very human-like alienkind in this case—naturally fear what they do not understand, and they fear that thing especially if it resembles a threat to said bastion’s power. The story acts a good excuse for Wally Wood to fire up his imagination and flourish the panels with all manner of indelible details and wry touches. I like the predominance of slithery, Jurassic-looking reptiles lording over the forest but I especially dig the epic, skull-adorned, bat-winged, heavy-metal-as-hell throne room of the hooded high priest. I can’t imagine any of these stage dressings were in Feldstein’s original script. This is the kind of visual extra mile that Wood would take in almost all of his assignments, but particularly his SF yarns.

The staff at bare*bones e-zine begin to show signs of reading too many comic books. ("Say Your Prayers")

Prepare yourselves, Earthlings. Alien invaders are readying our planet for colonization and our brave Editors at the offices of Weird Science have the first scoop as was revealed in the rough translation of the invaders’ original field report! Bfun and Glun are two insectile beings who guide their ship to a lonely stretch of farmland on Chdnar, their word for “Earth.” The two chatty mantises are pleased as punch to see that the planet is home to an advanced civilization, but they’re doubly overjoyed to find the terrain is much like theirs back at home. Coming upon a dull-eyed cow, Glun is suddenly overcome with hunger and, promptly decapitating the creature with his mandibles, he invites his comrade over to feast. They’ve just barely dug in when an old drunkard comes tottering down the path in their direction. The aliens hide but are shocked to find that the old man doesn’t scream at spotting them but instead curses the empty jug of moonshine he’s carrying and turns on his heel to leave, tossing a sheet of paper behind him. Tickled with curiosity, Glun and Bfun examine the paper and receive the fright of their lives. They make a bee-line for their home planet and warn the members of their council that Earth must never be conquered lest complete annihilation be rained down upon their kind. Just what did the paper show? A flier showing a “giant” human with his collection of speared and mounted praying mantises.

Yeah, “Say Your Prayers” is a pretty silly affair and one that depends upon a high measure of coincidence, but I’d be lying like a rug if I said I didn’t enjoy it quite a bit. Orlando’s style is a really great match for these whimsical SF tales. His mantis-beings are the natural stand-out here, cartoonish and cuddly-looking one page and unnatural and blood-chilling the next. I feel like the bizarre circumstance of the old man carrying a random flier promoting friendly relations with the praying mantis could have easily been fixed if the geezer was a bug exterminator who had a stash of cards or posters advertising his business that just happened to fall out of his pocket. That would’ve been (at least a little) more conceivable, and would have made more sense in regards to the aliens’ fright. The flier they find is urging humans to be friends with their buggy mates; wouldn’t that have just convinced them to give the invasion a shot? --Jose

This is your brain on EC science fiction. ("He Walked Among Them")

Peter: "Saving for the Future" could very well be the single dumbest story we've come across on our journey (and hopefully it won't be topped in the future). How many scientist/professors have lousy marriages in the EC universe but manage to score a babe for an assistant? Too many, I says. Isn't it a bit of an elaborate plan Dr. Brewster hatches simply to escape a little scandal and the ire of his wife? Yes, it is. Why would anyone, especially a big brain like Brewster,  take the chance that civilization will even exist in 500 years? No one should. What bank would hand over twenty million to a guy who should have died five centuries before? No bank I know of. The inanities pile up as you turn the pages. I do like how Lloyd and Ellen make exactly the same exclamation coming out of suspended animation as they did going under (He: "U-U-U-N-G-G-G!" She: "GASP . . ."). Not quite as dumb, but still pushing the envelope, is "A Weighty Decision," wherein the daughter of a scientist proves that the apple falls in another yard altogether by stowing away on a weight-sensitive spaceship. I give Al points for the downbeat ending but then I have to subtract points for Al's dopey finale to "Say Your Prayers," where a drunk who happens to be carrying just the right pamphlet to stave off an invasion by outer space bugs. The only bright spot this issue is "He Walked Among Us" which is, at least, readable and provides the return of Wally's capes.

"And then we'll wake up with CANCER!" ("Saving for the Future")

Jack: When I mentioned "The Cold Equations" above while discussing "Wolf Bait!" I had no idea we'd see the real thing in the very same month! As in the story by Feldstein and Davis, "A Weighty Decision" leaves the reader thinking, "What would I do if faced with the same situation?" It's a tough call. Probably better never to have fallen in love at all! The most interesting part of the dreadful "Saving for the Future" was the lesson in compound interest, while I groaned at "He Walked Among Us," yet another variation on the old "ancient astronauts" theme. "Say Your Prayers" was the umpteenth variation on the alien misunderstanding story and it reminded me of the recent Orlando tale where the tiny alien spaceship landed in a hot dog. It's funny--before we started this project, I assumed the EC horror and science fiction books were the classics, but reading them all, month by month, I'm preferring the crime and war books.

Next Monday Sgt. Rock gets all patriotic and stuff in the 96th Colon-Cleansing Issue of Star Spangled DC War Stories! Be there or be a Commie!

by Jack Seabrook

James Bridges's second script for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour was "The Star Juror," which aired on CBS on Friday, March 15, 1963, It was based on a 1958 French crime novel called The Seventh Juror by Francis Didelot.

Born in Madagascar in 1902 as Roger-Francis Didelot, the author trained and worked as a lawyer but became famous as a writer of novels, plays and non-fiction; he also wrote for radio, television and film and many of his works were adapted for the screen by other writers. The Seventh Juror is his best know novel and, in addition to the adaptation on The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, it was filmed in France in 1962 and again for French television in 2008. In 2013, Variety reported that The Seventh Juror was being developed for the big screen again, but to date it has not been released. Didelot died in 1985.

First edition in English

The novel concerns Gregoire Duval and his wife Genevieve, who own a pharmacy in a town in France. A successful businessman with three children, Duval spends evenings with his friends playing cards at a cafe. One Sunday afternoon, he takes his family to a restaurant outside of town for lunch. After lunch, when the rest of his family has wandered off, Gregoire takes a walk in the woods, where he observes Lola, the town prostitute, bathing naked in the river. When she emerges from the water, he grabs her passionately, but when she begins to scream he strangles her and returns to the restaurant, unseen.

News of Lola's murder sweeps through the town and an investigation gets underway. Her boyfriend, Sylvain Sautral, is arrested, and Gregoire finds himself on the list of jurors for the upcoming trial. He becomes determined to prevent Sautral from being found guilty and telephones the defense lawyer to confess to the murder without giving his name. He visits a church in Paris and confesses to a priest, who writes to the judge without revealing Gregoire's identity. He even sends an unsigned letter declaring that Sautral is innocent, but the process of justice moves on and the trial grows near.

Dean Jagger as George

Gregoire studies the rules of court and, when he is selected as the seventh juror, he disrupts the trial by posing questions to the witnesses and by showing how weak the case is against Sautral. The jury returns a verdict of not guilty and the townspeople blame Gregoire for depriving them of an execution by guillotine. Gregoire confesses to the murder but is laughed out of the police station. Determined to clear the cloud of suspicion that still hangs over Sautral, Gregoire visits the man and ends up shooting and killing him. No longer burdened with the need to save an innocent man, Gregoire's conscience is clear, and he waits for the police to come. However, the townsfolk prefer to believe that Sautral killed himself. Gregoire tells his wife that he has an idea for a "harmless sleeping tablet . . . a formula which'll guarantee restful, dreamless sleep."

Betty Field as Jenny

Does Gregoire plan to kill himself? The end of the story is left ambiguous. Didelot's novel is a satire of French provincial manners. Duval murders Lola to prevent a scandal involving a town leader--himself. The townsfolk are easily led into believing Sautral to be guilty and, no matter what happens, they cling to that belief. Gregoire feels no remorse for killing Lola; his quest to prove Sautral innocent seems driven by a desire to demonstrate his own cleverness. The story resembles that of the 1970 Italian film, Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion, where a police officer commits murder and everyone refuses to consider him a suspect in spite of overwhelming evidence.

Will Hutchins as J.J.

James Bridges adapted The Seventh Juror for television under the title, "The Star Juror" and, as in his script for "A Tangled Web," he does a fine job of selecting key moments in the novel and stitching them together to remain faithful to the book. Unfortunately, due to uninspired direction and off-key performances by some of the main players, the televised version does not work and fails to capture the tone of the source.

The story is moved from a French town to an unspecified location in the American south and it begins with George (Gregoire) and Jenny (Genevieve) dozing on a picnic blanket. George wanders off, finds Lola and strangles her; she is young, vivacious and clad in a swimsuit, in contrast with Jenny, who is middle-aged, dumpy and snoring loudly. Of course, Lola is not nude, as she is in the novel, but she does flirt with George, offering him a beer. There is a moment of suspense when her boyfriend J.J. (Sylvain) floats by in a rowboat and George cowers behind a bush, but George is able to return safely to the picnic blanket and go back to sleep next to his wife.

Crahan Denton as the sheriff

The sheriff and his sons come to the lake to fish and wake George and Jenny; she offers fried chicken and comments that "George loves necks." George silently sees the irony when Jenny tells him, "George, here's that nice fat neck you were eyeing before church. You want it now?" Having had enough of necks for one day, he declines her offer. The sheriff comments that the only criminal in town is time and says that he would like to send Old Man Time to the electric chair. George is a victim of the ravages of aging and thinks of himself as Old Man Time when he hears what the sheriff has to say.

After Lola's body has been found and George is back at home with Jenny, he says that the sheriff is "up to his neck in trouble," ending the litany of neck references. He goes to his favorite beer joint and is accused of being the murderer when he walks in the door, but everyone laughs and it is revealed that each man was accused on entering the room. J.J. is arrested and has a violent fit in his cell, destroying his bedding and requiring George to bring a sedative from the pharmacy. Will Hutchins overacts wildly in these scenes and is much different from the Sautral of the novel, who is philosophical. James Best might have been a better choice for the role. Continuing the theme of having characters say things that mean one thing to George and another to everyone else, J.J. addresses George and states, "You know I didn't kill her." Of course, George knows this all too well but J.J. does not realize it.

George Mitchell as the judge

George telephones the sheriff and confesses to the murder but hangs up the phone before speaking his own name aloud. J.J. is bailed out by his mother and takes up with Alice, another attractive young woman who scandalizes the older women of the town by "wearing shorts on the street." Bridges adds a new scene to the story and shows J.J. at home with Alice and his mother, who washes people's clothes to earn a living. J.J. is fatalistic and thinks he will fry, while Alice slinks around the room seductively. George telephones J.J. to provide another anonymous warning, sends the letter to the judge, and is selected for the jury.

The sign attached to George's back door

The trial begins and is very compressed from what is in the novel. George becomes the star juror when he stands up to start asking questions. That night, a doll in a chair with a sign reading "electric chair" is pinned to George's back door; perhaps Bridges thought the show needed a bit more excitement. After the not guilty verdict, the townsfolk boo and hiss at George as he leaves the courthouse and children throw mud at J.J.'s mother's washing as it hangs on the line. The townsfolk boycott the pharmacy and George says to Jenny, "Well, what have I done, Jenny? Have I committed a crime? You act like you'd like to see me electrocuted." George has committed a horrible crime, yet he deludes himself into thinking that he is a crusader for justice when he tries to save J.J.

Jennifer West as Alice

Later, J.J. and Alice visit the pharmacy and J.J. is dressed like a caricature of a TV western bad guy, in black cowboy hat, black leather jacket, jeans, and black boots. He is the town outlaw, whose mother takes in washing and who dates women from the lowest stratum of society--Lola lived in a hotel and Alice is just down from the mountain. Despite the verdict, the townsfolk treat him like a killer. He was fired from his job and someone tried to burn down his house. He was offered a new job killing chickens, and one only has to think about how this is done--by strangulation--to recall the scene at the picnic when Jenny kept taking about George's love for chicken necks.

George visits the scene of the crime and is tortured by voices in his head accusing him of being a "killer." He visits the sheriff and confesses, to no avail. Meanwhile, young men throw rocks through J.J.'s windows and beat him up before Alice comes outside and fires a gun in the air to scare them off. George visits and prevents J.J. from committing suicide, but in the struggle over the gun George shoots J.J. dead. As in the novel, he is not thought to have been responsible for a second killing, and the show ends with the sheriff telling George that he has been working too hard.

Katherine Squire as J.J.'s mother

"The Star Juror" is directed by Herschel Daugherty (1910-1993), who worked mainly in television from 1952 to 1975. He directed 24 episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents and three episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, as well as many episodes of Thriller and a few of The Twilight Zone. "The Star Juror" is not among his more impressive efforts.

Starring as George, Dean Jagger (1903-1991) gives a nuanced performance, standing out as the best in the show. He was in vaudeville and on the radio before starting his movie career in 1929 and his TV career in 1948. He won an Academy Award as Best Supporting Actor for his role in Twelve O'Clock High (1949) and appeared in many films, including Fritz Lang's Western Union (1941). He was also a regular on the TV series Mr. Novak from 1963 to 1965. This was his only appearance on the Hitchcock series. He also made an appearance on The Twilight Zone.

Cathie Merchant as Lola

In the rather unforgiving role of Jenny, Betty Field (1913?-1973) is loud, shrill and unpleasant to watch. Her date of birth varies depending on the source, variously 1913, 1916 or 1918, and she started out on stage before beginning a screen career that lasted from 1939 to 1968. Her first husband was playwright Elmer Rice and her films included Of Mice and Men (1939) and Bus Stop (1956). She was in "The Star Juror" and one episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents.

Will Hutchins (1930- ) was born Marshall Lowell Hutchason and his career on screen lasted from 1956 to 2010. He was a regular on three TV series: Sugarfoot (1957-1961), Hey, Landlord (1966-1967) and Blondie (1968-1969), but this was his only appearance on the Hitchcock series.

Josie Lloyd as Pauline

Playing the sheriff is familiar character actor Crahan Denton (1914-1966), who was on screen from 1945 until his death. He appeared on Alfred Hitchcock Presents in "Coming Home" and "Incident in a Small Jail" but he is best remembered for his role in "Pigeons From Hell" on Thriller.

J.J.'s mother is played by Katherine Squire (1903-1995), who was on screen from 1949 to 1989 and who gave similarly odd performances in two episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents: "Pen Pal" and "Man From the South" (as Peter Lorre's wife). She was also in two other episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, as well as episodes of The Twilight Zone and Thriller. Her husband, George Mitchell (1905-1972), plays the judge and was on screen from 1935 to 1973. He appeared in a total of four episodes of the Hitchcock series, including "Forty Detectives Later" and "The Black Curtain." Like his wife, he was seen on The Twilight Zone and Thriller; he also appeared in the classic western, 3:10 to Yuma.

Possibly the tightest pair of shorts ever seen on The Alfred Hitchcock Hour

The episode's two beauties were played by Jennifer West (1939- ) and Cathie Merchant (1945-2013). West plays Alice and her career on screen lasted from 1958 to 1970, including two episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour. She has written a memoir that can be ordered here. Merchant plays Lola and had a brief screen career from 1961 to 1965 that included roles in four episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour and a part in Roger Corman's The Haunted Palace (1963).

Finally, George and Jenny's daughter Pauline is played by Josie Lloyd (1940- ), daughter of producer Norman Lloyd. Her brief screen career lasted from 1960 to 1967 and included six episodes of the Hitchcock series.

"The Star Juror" is not yet available on DVD in the U.S. but may be found online at various torrent sites.

Sources:

In two weeks: "Death and the Joyful Woman" starring Gilbert Roland and Laraine Day!

The DC War Comics 1959-1976 by Corporals Enfantino and Seabrook

Kubert

 Our Army at War 185

"Battle Flag for a G.I.!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Russ Heath

"Hold the Bridge With Your Life!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Abel

Jack: Easy Co.'s latest new recruit brings with him an American flag that his girl back home made for him to fly while marching into battle. Sgt. Rock points out that, in this war, they don't fly flags because they make too good a target. The soldiers fight Nazis as they approach Broken Neck Hill, but the new recruit doesn't get to fly his flag. When the young man is wounded and acts heroically while taking the hill, Rock helps him raise the flag and drags him onward as Easy Co. finishes the job.

"Battle Flag for a G.I.!"

Pretty thin stuff, this; "Battle Flag for a G.I.!" has a central idea and then passes the time with lots of fighting. I was glad that the young man didn't die at the end, for once. No such luck in the issue's second story, "Hold the Bridge With Your Life!," in which Stan Stone, a life-long loser, is the lone survivor of a band of G.I.s told to hold a bridge that the Nazis are trying to blow up. It comes down to Stan against the last Nazi and Stan hangs on a little bit longer than the enemy, just long enough to keep him from destroying the bridge. The story is not very good, and Abel's art is weak, but the final panel is surprising. A U.S. tank rides up to the bridge and sees Stan's dead body propped up against the railing. The tank commander says, "Well--will you look at that G.I. sittin' there without a care in the world! Just like he was king of the hill!" I had to look back to the previous page to make sure what I thought I was seeing was really what I was seeing, and there, in the panel before last, he is referred to as "the dying G.I." Too bad the rest of the story was not as effective as the final panel.

"Hold the Bridge With Your Life!"

Peter: I got so sick and tired of hearing Flag Boy whine about his flag that I was joining in on the chorus of "You'll never fly that flag in this war, boy, so shut the hell up!!!" even while knowing, all the while, eventually he's gonna get to fly that damn flag. There was no way Big Bob would miss out on shoving that last panel right down our collective throats (well, actually I was also tipped off by the spoiler splash). Bad Liss and Bad Abel team up for the umpteenth telling of the little boy who couldn't, who grew up to be the big G.I. who could. We're definitely stuck in a rut this month.

Jack: Great Kubert cover, though--a candidate for year's best.

Heath

 G.I. Combat 126

"Tank Umbrella!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Russ Heath

"Not Even the Dead Can Sleep!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Abel

Peter: Amidst the hot desert sands, the Jeb Stuart is in big trouble: Nazi Panzers are patrolling the area and the men are out of water. Up over the next rise, smoke is spotted and Jeb orders the tank to investigate. They discover the ruins of comrade Phil Smith's tank, but footprints leading away give them hope that Phil is still alive and kicking. Sure enough, minutes later, Phil is spotted shambling through the desert heat, but an enemy tank disrupts the revelry. Only some quick thinking keeps the Jeb from joining the scrap heap and, soon, Phil is picked up. Unfortunately, the man is not coherent, babbling on about a "whole army of Panzers hidden by an umbrella." Just then, the ghost of the General who "bodyguards" the tank materializes before Jeb's eyes. When Jeb asks the spirit about water, the ghost will only say that water will "spring forth out of flame" (or, two pages later, " . . . out of rock").


The tank lumbers on in search of either an oasis or a flock of Panzers. The oasis comes first but it's soon revealed to be nothing but sand. That is, until an enemy plane rat-a-tats the desert all around the tank and the men are forced to blow it out of the sky. The plane crashes into the oasis and a funnel of water shoots from the sand. Water from flame (and maybe rock at the same time?!)! With their reserves replenished, the men get on to the task of finding the "Tank Umbrella!," and it's not long until they stumble on just such a sight: a herd of enemy tanks hidden below a tent covered with sand. Jeb radios the info to a bomber in the area and very soon the sky is on fire.

A very satisfying installment of the (sort-of) Haunted Tank, full of dazzling visuals and blazing combat action; another feather in the HT cap. Russ's depictions of the desert always leave the reader feeling wrung out and over-heated and his battle scenes are unparalleled in the DC war titles. No one does it better! There are literally dozens of panels I could use to demonstrate my point if we had the room: the shot of Jeb from below as an enemy plane heads for the ground; Phil's maddened face, wet with sweat, as he tries to convince the men of an "umbrella" out there somewhere; the ghostly approach of an enemy tank through the smoke of another flaming Panzer; the list goes on and on. Big Bob does a great job of avoiding his usual potholes and junk food, with the only stumbling block the unfortunate editing gaffe that allows the General to claim that "water will come from flame" on page six and Jeb to repeat the quote as "flame springs from rock" on the following page. It's not just a simple typo but an error that changes the flow (never mind that when water comes, it's actually springing from flame and sand). Forget my nits though, this is a terrific story, one that will be near the top of my "Best of 1967" list next issue.

Captain Carter's company is being torn to pieces near the small town of St. Pierre, coincidentally where Carter's father bought the farm back in WWI. Just as it seems all hope is lost, Pvt. Jesse Zeno pulls the Captain's fat out of the fire time after time before disappearing after a bomb blast. Later, when Carter visits Zeno's grave he discovers that the Private actually died in World War I. Zeno's spirit hovers nearby, confessing that he was the sentry who fell asleep the night Carter's pop died and now the ghost's debt is paid. "Not Even the Dead Can Sleep!" might have been a bit more impactful if we didn't see the Twilight Zone-esque twist coming all the way from page two (if not the title tip-off), but I'll take it over the usual "Battling Brothers" back-up.

Novick and Kubert

 Our Fighting Forces 109

"Burn, Raiders, Burn!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Abel

"The Unsinkable Subs!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jack Abel

Jack: The Hellcats' new assignment is to parachute into France and destroy camps where Nazis are being trained to invade Britain. When their transport plane is shot down, they parachute 50 miles from their target and hook up with the Mobile Underground, a traveling circus run by resistance fighters who will take them to the Nazi camp. The leader, Mlle. Cherie, welcomes half of the Nazi garrison to that night's show, allowing the Hellcats to attack the undermanned camp. Trapped in an arsenal, it's almost "Burn, Raiders, Burn!" when a Nazi with a flame thrower nearly fries Lt. Hunter and his men, but they break out of the arsenal, steal a truck, and head back to the circus. A Nazi menaces Mlle. Cherie but Lt. Hunter rescues her and she opens the wild animal cages to let the beasts go after the Nazis. Later, she gives Lt. Hunter a peck on the cheek before he and the Hellcats head back to England.

From left to right: Suranne Jones, Peter Enfantino, Jack Seabrook

Call me crazy, but I enjoyed this adventure, even though Hunter's claim that "all we've got going for us is surprise" reminded me of the Spanish Inquisition on Monty Python's Flying Circus. As in the other DC War comics, the Hellcats always set out thinking that they are doomed, but none of them ever gets killed. The circus setting is a nice change of pace and Abel's art is decent, but I would love to see Neal Adams tackle one of these stories.

Peter: Howard Liss is on Jack Seabrook's enemy list right now for not including Mademoiselle Marie in this dopey adventure. At least Mlle Cherie speaks fluent English rather than zee peejun. If I didn't know better (and I don't), I'd say our old friend Jerry Grandenetti had a hand in visuals this issue; lots of dark, sloppy faces. The story is just the same ol', with tensions flaring within the Hunters only long enough to  remind us they don't like each other but will never take it to the next level. The massive talent of Howard Liss, evident the first year he's been with us, is very quickly being stymied by Big Bob's awful series constraints. At least I hope that's Howard's excuse.

A cool panel showing the vertical drop into the drink

Jack: A Nazi sub nicknamed the Steel Shark is wreaking havoc on Allied ships and escaping seemingly into nowhere. Three frogmen brothers fear that their kid brother Pee-Wee was on one of the doomed ships, so when they are sent on an underwater search and destroy mission it is personal. They find Pee-Wee's dogtags snagged on some kelp at the opening of a huge coral cave where the subs are hidden and use unexploded depth charges to cause a cave-in and trap the subs forever.

Howard Liss must be rubbing off on Hank Chapman, because this story starts dark and stays there. Pee-Wee is not found or rescued and the dogtags left behind by the dead sailor tip off his brothers to the location of the hidden subs. Not a bad issue of OFF, considering it's all drawn by Jack Abel!

Peter: "The Unsinkable Subs" reads like a throwback to the early DC war days but maybe it's because it uses a tried-and-true hook as its theme: the battling brothers. It's confusing (we never find out how these subs manage to get back into their deep-sea cave seconds after unloading their torps) and outlandish (Pee-Wee's G.I. Naval gear pops up everywhere but in Macy's store window), but what do you expect from Hank Chapman?

Heath

Star Spangled War Stories 135

"Save My Life and Kill Me!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Russ Heath

"There's No One Left!"
Story Uncredited
Art by Bob Forgione
(Reprinted from G.I. Combat #57, February 1958)

Peter: Japanese Zero Ace Yasuo Kiwara and American fighter pilot Bill Brooks shoot it out high over the Pacific when both of their planes enter a mysterious cloud formation and are plunked out of the air by two giant flying terrors from a prehistoric stone age! Parachuting out, the pilots trade bullets on the way down but Kiwara's chute is eaten by one of the pterodactyls and he falls, seemingly, to his death . . . until Bill grabs his hand on the way down. The men land on the strange island below and are immediately set upon by a ferocious T. Rex. Kiwara has been injured so Bill must hoist him upon his broad back and hightail it. Luckily, the Jap Ace awakens and lobs a TNT pineapple at the overgrown iguana. Kiwara explains that, since he's a Samurai, either Bill must die or Yasuo must kill himself. The two must fight to the death once the War That Time Forgot is over. They duck into a cave and find a cache of grenades and weapons, enough to blow their way across the island and get back to the beach. At turns, each has the chance to kill the other when he has the upper hand but they make a pact not to duel until the odds are even. Once the destructive duo make it to the beach, they find a wing from Bill's plane and use it to row away from the island. Bill is stung by an electric eel and is paralyzed; a giant horror/terror monster/nightmare rises from the polluted ocean and sets its eyes on the helpless Ace but Yasuo Kiwara, in a final act of heroism, sacrifices himself to save his sworn enemy. Bill sees a rescue plane flying overhead and half-heartedly waves. Today, his heart is half-broken.

Definitely a case of style over substance, "Save My Life and Kill Me!" is a boring, but gorgeously-rendered, dud rife with the kind of WTTF tropes that beg the question, "Was Big Bob even submitting a script by this time?" Consider that the two sworn enemies landing, ironically, on an island full of beasties that forces them to become comrades has played itself out long before this 45th installment. Bob's never been shy about recreating scenes in this series but how about the empty LST that reveals itself to be full of monsters (yep, "borrowed" from "You Owe Me a Death," just two issues ago!)? How many times do we have to watch as one of the warriors is lifted up by claw (or tongue) and his enemy thinks "Hmmm, if I let the monster eat him, I don't have to worry about him killing me!," followed by an act of bravery? The only bright light in this entire 17-page stinker is the ending, wherein Kiwara does the right thing and blows the sea monster into sushi. Of course, Big Bob can't leave well enough alone and has to punctuate the pathos with one last bit of (awkwardly-worded) dialogue, as Bill Brooks ponders the meaning of life and heroism in World War II: "It's a war . . . that time forgot! But . . . that's only one war . . . I fought . . . I fought another one . . . I'll never forget . . . with a guy that saved my life . . . then wanted to kill me . . . and wound up saving it again . . . losing his own!" Kill Me and Save My Mind. Meanwhile, Russ just keeps pumping out beautiful art.

Jack: Boring? Are you kidding? This is one of the best War That Time Forget stories I've ever read! Heath's art is excellent (no surprise) and Kanigher's script remains consistent to the end. Did Japanese pilots really think this way or is this an example of our Western misunderstanding of their code? Either way, it's a fascinating look at a foreign man whose code of honor makes no sense to us but who behaves in an honorable fashion to the end. Having him blow himself up to save the life of his sworn enemy is a much more adult ending than we're used to in this series. Thank goodness this wasn't drawn by Ross and Mike.

Peter: An Allied Sergeant must go out into battle when "There's No One Left!" to send. He's nabbed by the Nazis and interrogated by a smarmy German who continually bombards him with "Whom do you send out when there's no one left, Sergeant?" Our hero manages to escape and, while on the run, manages to shove a potato masher down his interrogator's gullet, forever silencing his annoying voice. Geez, what a dopey story. This Nazi has an Amerikaner soldier to torture and all he does is berate him with a stupid question. No wonder they lost the war.

Please stop! Please stop! Please stop!

Jack: I thought it was exciting and a very swift read. It's interesting to see how much simpler the 1950s DC War stories were in comparison to those from the 1960s. The amount of repetition in the story makes me think Kanigher wrote it.

Kubert

Our Army at War 186

"3 Stripes Hill!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert
(Reprinted from Our Army at War #90, January 1960)

"My Life for a Medal"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Neal Adams

Jack: A WWII soldier named Gallagher is desperate to earn a medal for some reason. Unhurt in an explosion, he does not get a Purple Heart. Blowing up an enemy pill box gets him nowhere because no one on his side witnesses it. Destroying a Nazi plane is also not good enough for a medal, since his partner was unconscious when it occurred. When Gallagher is sent to see why Tank 777 has been lost to radio contact, he ends up destroying an enemy tank. Impressed by the American's bravery, a dying Nazi pins his own Iron Cross on Gallagher's lapel, and the man finally has a medal to enclose in a letter to his son back home.

One of many great pages.

In another artist's hands, "My Life for a Medal!" would not work nearly as well, but Neal Adams continues to dazzle us with his astounding art as it grows by leaps and bounds from month to month in the DC War comics. The way he uses the panels like a movie director and the way he draws faces is impressive.

Peter: If the powers-that-be have to rip off the kids with a recent reprint, at least they pour that sugar on us with the back-up. It's one of Hank Chapman's better efforts, I must say, despite that annoying catch-phrase (Wouldn't it be great to run across a DC war story where two of the characters traded catch-phrases? There must have been dozens of these parrots running around in the same outfit, right?). "My Life for a Medal" ends on a surprisingly uplifting note when a Nazi-Rat Bastard has an epiphany and awards his Iron Cross to the guy who's killed him!

Big Bob hosts his first two-page letter column but gives the entire space over to one Rondy Hiteshaw of San Luis Obispo, Cali, who offers up many suggestions and pert near orders to the editor for changes in the four war titles. One of the requests, a regular feature for Enemy Ace, draws this from Kanigher: "I appreciate and thank your (sic) and other fans (sic) interest in Enemy Ace, but it is logistically impossible to put it out at this time or in the near future." Fortunately, some of the logistics were worked out and we'll see Hans begin his four-year run in SSWS in just a few months!

Next Week: The Guilty!

Craig

Crime SuspenStories #11

"Stiff Punishment!" ★
Story and Art by Johnny Craig

"One Man's Poison!" ★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Two for One!" ★★ 1/2
"Four for One!" ★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

"A Fool and His Honey are Soon Parted!" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels

He went to Jared's! (Again!) "Stiff Punishment!"

Anything resembling love has long flown the coop for Jo Ann and Fred and it's only a matter of time before they come to blows. Fred's a medical teacher at a local college and he uses corpses in his class like other teachers use slide rules or globes, so an idea suddenly pops into his diseased brain: he'll kill his wife, disfigure her beyond recognition and hang her up with the rest of the cadavers. The first two-thirds of the plan go as well as can be hoped for but, while the police are questioning Fred in his classroom, one of the students happens to pick Jo Ann's body to work on. Cutting her open, the boy finds Jo Ann's wedding ring and approaches his teacher about the discovery. The police get their man and, to add insult to injury, Fred hears one of his students remark that Jo Ann had advanced cancer of the liver and would have died in a matter of weeks! Drum roll (or dumb roll), please. "Stiff Competition!" is DOA, a story so cliched and inane that it really does shock. As usual, this EC couple is so vile and treat each other with such disregard that it stretches credibility but, in this case, it happens seemingly overnight. Are we to believe that Fred didn't tell Jo Ann that he dissects corpses until after they were married? And how about that one-two-three shock climax? At what point did Jo Ann swallow her ring? How exactly would hiding your wife's corpse at work be a good idea when dissection is how you make your living? Gibbs (the boy who cuts open Jo Ann) should just skip medical school and hang out his shingle now since he can diagnose terminal cancer in seconds! Oh Johnny, tell us it was the deadline.

Mary echoes Peter's sentiments about Jack Kamen's stories. ("One Man's Poison!")

Mary has had enough of husband John and the feeling is mutual. The only way out is . . . murder (where have I heard that before?). Rather than stick her hubby with a knife or conk him on the head with a frying pan, Mary hatches a grand scheme: she'll expose several cans of string beans (sweet and sour string beans are John's favorite dish) to the elements, wait for them to go rotten, eat some a little at a time so she develops an immunity to food poisoning (no, seriously!), and then serve them for John's last supper. Mary invites over their mutual friend, Dick ("We love having Dick!"), as an unwitting alibi and sets the table. Promptly after finishing his meal, John complains of stomach pain and keels over dead. For the benefit of Dick (I really wanted to use that phrase in a sentence), Mary feigns nausea while her friend calls the doctor. The new widow lifts John's glass of wine and downs it in celebration just as Dick comes back in the room with startling news: he's found a note by the phone, written by John, confessing to Mary that he loves her but he couldn't go on so he poisoned his own wine.  "One Man's Poison!" proves that Al can write a War of the Roses-type tale just as badly as Johnny. The only highlight, for me, was the unique panel of Mary reclining on her sofa, explaining to us her plan. The unseen narrator usually lets us know what's going on but here we get a rare breaking of the fourth wall by one of the characters.  If nothing else, the tale contains the most unique method of murder: death by rotten string bean. Give Mary a lot of credit for sticking out the weeks of eating bad vegetables and developing an immune system that tolerates ptomaine. Reading this story is tantamount to eating bad string beans.

"Two for One!"

Carlton Ashley is deep into debt, or so his accountant tells him, and the only way out is to raise twenty thousand pronto. Coincidentally, Ashley is approached the next day by a stranger who promises the man he can get "Two for One!" on his investment immediately but Ashley rebuffs him, smelling a rat. When his accountant tells him that he has a week or two at the most before he must pony up the money or declare bankruptcy, Ashley calls on the stranger for details of the get-rich-quick scheme. The man opens a briefcase full of twenty thousand dollars in counterfeit bills and tells his customer the price is ten grand. Seeing no way out, Ashley agrees and heads for the airport. While sitting at the gate, the justifiably-nervous Ashley is approached by cops asking about the briefcase. He disavows any knowledge of the case and leaves, not knowing he's been the victim of an elaborate scam concocted by his accountant.

"Four for One!"

Leslie Stevenson, President of City Bank, helps a new customer who has a strange request: in order to impress a prospective client, Mr. Irwin would like Stevenson's tellers to act as though Irwin is a long-time customer of the bank and to accept any check signed by Irwin. After Irwin gives the bank president ten grand to deposit in the new account, Stevenson agrees. The next day, while he's out on business, Stevenson is not witness to five different men cashing five checks for ten grand, all signed by Mr., Irwin, effectively earning "Four for One!" The first set of a new series that will appear in the next five issues of Crime, these "EC Quickies" would probably have fared better as prose stories rather than illustrated short-shorts. Of the two, obviously, "Two for One!" fares better due to its greater length ("Four for One!" only runs two pages to "Two"'s four) and more elaborate con job. Al and Jack run out of room before they can illustrate the last twist so it has to be crammed in a last-panel prose expository. It's not a bad little story; it's just that there's not much to it. That goes double for "Four" (pun intended), where the brevity necessitates the inclusion of stupid characters (what bank president is going to okay such a nutty request for a brand new client?).

"A Fool and His Honey . . ."

Fellow plantation owner Armand tries to warn Charles Cartier about the visiting plantation inspector and his lecherous ways but Charles insists that his marriage to Nanette is solid as a rock. When Rudy Marchand, the plantation agent, arrives, he immediately begins a campaign to literally charm the pants off Nanette. The plot works, and soon the woman is making plans to leave Charles and go away with Marchand. The midnight trysts do not go unwitnessed, however, and Charles begins his counter-plan. The trio are invited to witness a ceremony celebrating the engagement of the daughter of a powerful local chief and, while there, Marchand becomes intrigued by the native girl. He discovers that the future bride must wait, totally naked, three days until her groom comes to her hut. Cartier warns the agent that if a stranger so much as looks at the girl, it is certain death. Marchand snickers and almost considers it a dare. Later that night, a dark figure enters the native girl's hut and is seen fleeing; the man leaves behind a pith helmet, very clearly the helmet of Rudy Marchand.

"No, no Nanette!" Humor in a Jungle Vein. ("A Fool and His Honey . . .")

The next morning, Charles and Nanette awake to find Rudy gone and Nanette breaks down, confessing her sins to her husband. Meanwhile, in the jungle, Marchand has been staked to the ground, honey poured on him, and abandoned for the red ants to have their way with him. Some time later, Charles stumbles on the flesh-picked skeleton of Marchand while on the way to see his friend Armand and witnesses that "A Fool and His Honey are Soon Parted!" Charles carries Marchand's white Panama suit and admits that he's only sorry he had to leave Marchand's pith helmet in the hut that night as Armand would have loved that as well. Great twist ending to an above-average adultery tale; it's nice to see that not all of the EC females who stray down that path are evil and murderous. Some are simply human, like Nanette. Gorgeous Ingels art here; in particular, the moody depiction of Rudy and Nanette's late-night stroll. And, hey, here's a first: every one of Ingels's characters seems to have a full set of teeth! --Peter

"A Fool and His Honey . . ."

Davis

Tales from the Crypt #30

"Gas-tly Prospects!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

"A Hollywood Ending!" ★★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Orlando

"Auntie, It's Coal Inside!" ★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Mournin', Ambrose . . ." ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels

Jeff "Whitey" Whittaker discovers gold in California in 1849 but a stranger with a gun happens along and plants two slugs in his gut. The two men wait each other out until the stranger stabs Whitey to death in his sleep and buries his body in a shallow grave. One night, a week later, a wildcat digs up the corpse and leaves it sitting up against a rock for the stranger to find the next morning. The stranger decides to try tying weights to Whitey's body and putting him at the bottom of a stream. Another week goes by, and the ropes are worn through, allowing the body to bob up to the surface. The stranger decides that burning the body is the only way to get rid of it, but the decaying gases built up inside the corpse contribute to a fire that gets out of control and kills the stranger once and for all.

"Gas-tly Prospects!"

"Gas-tly Prospects!" is part of the "corpse that wouldn't stay buried" tradition and the best thing about it is Jack Davis's art, which treats us to the sight of the gradually decaying form of poor Whitey. The story is obvious in its development and there is no payoff at the end. The copy we're working from is fairly decrepit and makes me appreciate the great restoration work done by Russ Cochran for his reprints.

Hollywood movie producer and all-around man's man Hugh Howards flies up to the Arctic to see what's what and meets Terry Arlen, a certified hottie who was brought there six years before by "Daddy," a doctor who took her in after her father was killed in a car crash. Hugh offers to take the fox to Hollywood and make her a star and he throws a marriage proposal into the bargain. She is completely on board with the plan, despite the protestations of her "Daddy," and she elopes with Hugh. Once she's in the warm California sun, however, she starts to decompose and, when "Daddy" arrives to tell Hugh the sad truth about his new bride, it's too late. It turns out that she was killed in the car crash and revived and that the only way to keep her fresh was to preserve her in the cold arctic air. "A Hollywood Ending!" indeed!

This variation on Lovecraft's "Cool Air" is a lot of fun, especially the hilarious business about Hugh falling for the beautiful gal from the first time he lays eyes on her. He wants her to take off her parka so he can evaluate her figure, which is not a far cry from asking her to join him on the casting couch. Feldstein manages to keep up the suspense for awhile as to just what terrible fate will befall Terry and/or Hugh and, by the time it begins to become apparent what's going on, the story is about over. Joe Orlando turns in a bang up job, drawing both a gorgeous gal and her horrible corpse quite effectively.

Jack Kamen forgot it was Aunt Agnes and not Uncle Agnes. ("Auntie, It's Coal Inside!")

Toby is a seven year old orphan being raised by his mean Aunt Agnes. He hears a voice in his head that encourages him to do things that he knows will get him into trouble, such as venturing down into the cellar for a lump of coal with which to mark up the sidewalk and keep score in the game. Auntie comes home and is upset that he went where he wasn't supposed to go, so she hires a locksmith to put a lock on the cellar door. After she orders a delivery of four tons of the stuff, Toby hears her calling to him from the coal bin, where she is accidentally locked in. He thinks it's the voice inside his head pretending to be his aunt, so he doesn't go open the door, and she is crushed under the weight of all of the coal when it is delivered.

Al Feldstein must have kept track of the stories he wrote for Jack Kamen, since they seem to go back and forth monotonously from stories about beautiful women with cold hearts to stories about little kids. "Auntie, It's Coal Inside!" is the latter and it's a real dull entry. Feldstein just used the bit about someone putting a lock on the basement door not too long ago. (That'd be "Kickback" from Shock #2, Jackie-Boy! -Jose)

Peter Enfantino, circa 2027. ("Mournin' Ambrose!")

Young Andrew Demert takes a trip to visit his elderly Uncle Ambrose and Aunt Elsa at their creepy mansion. Ambrose tells him that Elsa has lost her marbles over the last three years due to the unexpected deaths of three other relatives who paid a visit to the mansion. On the other hand, Elsa tells Andrew that Ambrose is a fiend and keeps babbling about Macbeth. The next morning, Elsa is dead and soon Andrew observes that Ambrose likes to visit her body in the mausoleum. Andrew finds Elsa's diary hidden in a copy of Macbeth and discovers that she documented Ambrose's murder spree. He goes to the cops, who ask to do an autopsy on Elsa, but Ambrose refuses. That night, Andrew follows Ambrose and discovers that he's a ghoul who has been snacking on the corpses of his dead relatives out in the mausoleum.

"Mournin', Ambrose!" features more fine art by Ingels and has a bit more plot than we're used to in the typical Feldstein seven-pager, but the revelation that Uncle Ambrose is a ghoul comes out of left field. Now, I have no problem with an ending that is truly a surprise, but it doesn't go anywhere and just kind of sits there. In the last panel, the police explain to Andrew that he's lucky he didn't become Ambrose's next Happy Meal. It's never good when a story ends with the cops explaining something--it didn't work in Psycho and it doesn't work here.--Jack

Jack Seabrook, circa 2017. ("A Hollywood Ending!")

Peter: Love that Jack Davis art on "Gas-tly Prospects!" Jeff takes a lickin' but keeps on tickin' . . . well, that is if you consider that his corpse clocks a lot of mileage and only loses bits and pieces here and there. The concept's a good one, and the corpse as narrator (like Mary's fourth-wall lounge in "One Man's Poison!") is a great hook Al can hang his hat on, but the story just limps along and runs out of gas in the end. I declare, here and now, a moratorium on stories like "Auntie, It's Coal Inside!," wherein the protagonist is a precocious tot who hears voices. "Mournin', Ambrose!" is, like "Gas-tly," gorgeously rendered but a bit slim in the script department and the "shock" climax just lies there. Why didn't we notice that Uncle Ambrose had fangs? That leaves the winner by a large margin, "A Hollywood Ending!," with Joe once again putting on his best Wally Wood masquerade (and I assume that's exactly what Al wanted, since Wally was spread thin with all the science fiction work). That final panel, with its perfumed corpse and chunk-blowing hubby, is a classic but, seriously how was this not assigned to Ghastly?

Jose: I’ve carried fond memories of “Gas-tly Prospects!” with me since the first time I read the story in middle school, and revisiting it now has only reinforced that fondness. I just love visiting ornery ol’ “Whitey” and seeing his stanking carcass popping up to give his killer a good spookin’. I actually think the story develops quite nicely, with the little detail about “Whitey” stowing the shotgun shells in his pocket evolving organically into a biting, righteous finish for our villain. Though I honestly do have to wonder how those shells didn’t float away when Whitey was dumped in the river … or buried in the ground … or wrestled over by two wildcats. (Whatever! I still like it!) “A Hollywood Ending!” is grand, grim, and gruesome EC at its most prototypical fun. We’ve seen the Valdemar/Cool Air ending before, but melting corpses never get old, and if you think otherwise you should go and get your pulse checked. Orlando has some fantastic work on display here; I especially adore his conception of Dr. Wheems, a bespectacled coot whose horns of white hair seem to anticipate Cain from DC’s House of Mystery of 16 years' hence, and the final panel beautifully pairs the ludicrous (Howard getting ready to eject his lunch) with the grotesquely sublime (Terry’s putrefying corpse clasping the “Desire” perfume to her hollow chest). Now that’s what I’m talking about! Things get decidedly mundane with “Auntie, It’s Coal Inside!” I’ll give Feldstein credit where it’s due for working a neat twist into little Toby’s dissociative voice (Agnes’s blubbering concession that Toby’s father wasn’t a drunkard but was in fact a good man convinces the tyke that what he’s hearing must be his imagination and certainly not his incessant bitch of an aunt), but the rest of the story plods along to a climax that wouldn’t even strike a featherweight as being the least bit terrifying. Ingels is left to ratchet the quality back up a few pegs which he manages to do with the modest Gothic frills of “Mournin’, Ambrose…” I appreciate the unique, somewhat subdued approach that Feldstein is going for here with the familial insecurities and the almost murder-mystery aspect of the entire affair, but the final reveal that Ambrose is a skin-snacking ghoul feels arbitrary by the time we get around to it.

Wood

Shock SuspenStories #3

"Just Desserts!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"The Guilty!" ★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Wally Wood

"The Big Stand-Up!" ★★★ 1/2
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Joe Orlando

"Stumped!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

Bernard washes his hands in the bathroom and returns to his dinner party, where he proceeds to tell each of his five guests how they've wronged him. His nanny wasn't paying attention and so his son's stroller rolled in front of a truck and the boy was killed. His business partner ran him out of business and his aunt refused to help him financially. His wife had an affair with his best friend. Bernard decided they all needed to be served their "Just Desserts!" so he invited them to dinner and cut off all of their heads.

"The Guilty!"

It's rare for a Jack Kamen story to get first place in an EC comic, so I expected something great from this one, but the full-page splash that ends the story just left me scratching my still-attached head. Why did Bernard lop off all of their heads? How and when did he do  it? Why is there no blood? And why in God's name do we get this big page with five headless corpses and then make it gore-free?

A black man named Collins is arrested for killing a white woman and held in a small town jail while the townsfolk gather around, hoping for a conviction for a man who is obviously "The Guilty!" The D.A. tells Sheriff Dawson to move Collins to the county seat to keep him safe but after this is done under cover of darkness the townsfolk begin to worry that the slick defense attorney will get Collins an acquittal, since the only evidence against him is the testimony of a witness named Hank Barker. On the day of trial, the sheriff and his men transport Collins back to town but on the way they force him to make a run for it and shoot and kill him. Returning to town to tell the D.A. that the prisoner was shot trying to escape, they learn that Barker has just confessed to the murder.

"The Big Stand-Up!"

Telling a story like this in a comic book in 1952 was a bold move, and Gaines, Feldstein and Wood should get credit for tackling such an adult theme. Wood is at his best here but the story is predictable and preachy and it ends up seeming like something that's good for you rather than enjoyable.

Television engineer Bart Thompson is working late one night at the studio, trying to adjust the picture on the small screen, when a gorgeous babe starts chatting with him. It turns out she's Lara, from another solar system, and she and Bart hit it off immediately. He convinces her to come to Earth to marry him, but when her ships lands and she emerges, she's 200 feet tall!

Joe Orlando has picked up where Harvey Kurtzman left off with the humorous stories, and this one is a doozy. Basically just two people talking to each other, it has to be jazzed up by funny pics of Bart and sexy poses by Lara. The best thing about "The Big Stand-Up!" is that it reads just like a story of a guy chatting with a girl online and then getting a big surprise when they meet in person. Who knew sci-fi comics were so prescient?

Jose Cruz refuses to read another Jack Kamen story. ("Stumped!)

Way up in the Canadian woods, a fur trapper named Henri Petite discovers that his bear trap was sprung accidentally when a tree limb fell on it. Henri gets Marcel Duval to help him reset the trap but a jealous rival named Jaques Soubret comes along and moves the trap, hoping that Henri will get caught in it and Jaques can take over his territory. Sure enough, Henri steps in his own trap and Jaques stands there and gloats. A week later, Henri appears on Jaques's doorstep and blows his rival away with a shotgun. His foot is missing and he confesses to Marcel, with his dying breath, that he chewed his own leg off.

Well, yuck! Jack Davis is on his game and the art looks great, but the story is kind of disgusting and the punch line to "Stumped!" isn't that surprising. James Franco would do pretty much the same thing in the 2010 movie, 127 Hours, which was based on a true story, which is disturbing enough.--Jack

The last bare*bones e-zine staff meeting. ("Just Desserts!")

Peter: Forget the silliness of a man chewing his own leg off (he'd have to be very limber, wouldn't he?) and then crawling for an entire day while bleeding to death and then hopping through Jaques's doorway with the shotgun. Yeah, forget all that silliness, if you can, because "Stumped!" elevates itself above similar revenge fare thanks to Jack Davis's crazy art and the sheer nastiness of the proceedings (The shotgun in Henri's hands explodes and Jaques' face melts into a red mash). That Jaques sure looks like the Crypt-Keeper. We've all seen some kind of variant of the final panel of "Just Desserts!," but this one is pretty effective even given that it's delivered bloodlessly (it almost looks as though the victims' heads were removed post-delivery) by the king of stick-figures. The rest of the story is a boring mess though; poor little Jimmy--who looks to be about fourteen while sitting in his stroller--is pretty much forgotten about after his date with a milk truck. And is it my imagination or are all the dinner guests wearing the exact same clothes they wore when they slighted Bernie? "The Big Stand-Up!" is an amiable little bit of nonsense that taps into every man's fantasy while exhibiting some spot-on Frazetta/Williamson apings from Joe Orlando. Hard to believe Al and Bill would surround a gallery-piece like "The Guilty!" with such pablum. It's been nearly forty years since I read these Shock issues and nostalgia can play tricks with your memory. I don't recall there being so much filler in EC's premier quality title. It's a tough task to consider pre-code comics stories like "The Guilty!" sixty years (and a whole lot of free press) on but it's nice to see that, despite a bit of preachiness, the tale still packs a lot of wallop and, unfortunately, seems just as timely today as then.

Jose: “Just Desserts!” is a heaping pile of old news; there isn’t a thing here that we haven’t seen before. (Quite literally, actually: Kamen recycles the old “three-intense-close-ups” of his psychotic characters here that he also put to use in “The Neat Job” [Shock 1] and “Board to Death” [Crypt 29]). Those hoping for a similar triumphant Crime SuspenStory from the artist akin to the former tale will be sorely disappointed. Ol’ Jack shows in the depiction of Bernard’s frosty aunt that the cross-dressing gent posing as Aunt Agnes in “Auntie, It’s Coal Inside!” was not a one-time offender. “The Guilty!” has all the shocks and the fumbles of a ground-breaking piece of art, but even if the final editorial caption, as historian Bill Spicer says in the hardcover reprint of Shock, essentially shoots the story’s morality in the foot by saying it “does not matter” whether Collins was guilty or not, Bill and Al’s “preachie” still packs a wallop as it allows banal, everyday evil to take the stage in a setting uncomfortably close to home. Those worn down by the grim truths of this parable will find a fizzy tonic in “The Big Stand-Up!,” another of EC’s jokey amusements drawn out and fitted with science fiction trappings. You gotta love those exaggerated expressions and contortions Orlando puts his characters through. They almost give Jack Davis’s Snidely Whiplash stand-in from “Stumped!” a run for his money. Jaques is a funky-looking knave if ever there was one, with a mustache that could be mistaken for two frozen icicles of snot hanging from his nose. This story tries to play a straighter hand than the Orlando, at least on the surface, but the sight of a one-legged bandit toting a rifle to the cabin of his tormentor to literally wipe that stupid mustache off his face is one of the most beautifully campy moments we have yet to witness.

Craig

The Vault of Horror #25

"Seance!" ★★★ 1/2
Story and Art by Johnny Craig

"Kickin' the Gong a Round!" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

"Practical Yolk!" ★
Story by Al Feldstein and Bill Gaines
Art by Jack Kamen

"Collection Completed!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein and Bill Gaines
Art by Graham Ingels

Ben Gantner and George Dent are two slick businessmen who manage to close a deal with wealthy investor John Chalmers and later toast their good luck … in suckering yet another loser into their skin-deep scam! Ben and George have no business to speak of (literally), and so they manage to squeeze every red cent out of Chalmers until the old goat overhears them boasting their fortunes one night. Chalmers swears swift legal action before storming out; Ben and George, desperate to elude the law at any cost, race after Chalmers in their car on a lonely road and send Chalmers careening down an incline to his death. Under the pretense of offering condolences, the two con men visit the Widow Chalmers to gauge what the old broad might know of their operations. Mrs. Chalmers has apprehensions about keeping the business and tells the gentlemen that she’ll have to contact her husband’s spirit through the offices of Madame Gilda, her confidant and personal medium. The boys know a fellow crook when they see one, though, and easily manage to grease Madame Gilda’s palms so that she may go along with the charade wherein George will depart the séance and reappear as Chalmers with the help of stage makeup to make an appearance and advise “his wife” to stay in business with Gantner and Dent. On the evening of the séance everything goes off perfectly. Almost too perfectly, Gantner thinks, as Gilda goes into a very convincing trance and Dent appears as the phosphorous spirit. But the figure makes no move to speak, instead looming right over to Gantner and strangling the man in his seat. The spirit departs, the lights are turned on, and Gilda, in her fright, confesses the whole plot to Mrs. Chalmers. The lady’s anger quickly evaporates when they discover Dent’s corpse behind a curtain, strangled to death and terror frozen on its face. But who could have gotten in when Gilda had the key on her to the only door in the room? Who indeed …?

"Seance!"

It may be low on shock and missing other hallmarks of the EC house style, but “Séance!” is easily one of Johnny Craig’s most accomplished narratives during his tenure with the company. The story is told so cleanly and so naturally, following a solidly logical progression of events to an inevitable and satisfying conclusion. One never gets the feeling that events are being contrived at the whim of a writer with his own agenda. I realize this all sounds very general and vague, and also a little like, “Duh! That’s how stories are supposed to work!” True enough, audience in my head. Yet I can’t stress enough how difficult this can be, moving pieces of plot and characters without the reader taking notice of what you’re doing. To put it another way, it’s the difference between seeing a stage magician guiding his assistant through a trapdoor and watching a magician make his assistant disappear in thin air and then wondering just how the hell he did it. Technically speaking, both magicians have made their assistants disappear, but only one of them has done so with grace and without drawing attention to what’s up his sleeve. Craig is the second magician. I took half a star off of this one just because the story is, for me, overly familiar and lacks the other indelible charms of Craig’s craft that covered up this fact in the artist’s other works, like “Sink-Hole” (Vault 18).

Jack and Peter ask Jose to step outside so they can go over the word count cap for posts again. ("Kickin' the Gong Around!")

Patty Marko is on the fast track to becoming the middleweight champion. He’s clobbered his way up the line of boxing opponents all the way to reigning title holder Jake Houseman and things are just looking peachy for him and his family, though Patty’s wife Judy wishes that her husband will be able to quit the ring soon and that there’ll be a better future in store for their infant son, Mickey. Judy just about gets her wish when two gun-toting hoods knock on the apartment door and whisk Patty away to Houseman’s training camp where the corrupt pugilist offers the young scrapper 5,000 clams to throw the match, a payment far higher than what Marko will make by winning the fight. Idealist Patty rejects Houseman’s offer down flat, so Houseman retaliates by having his hoods kidnap Li’l Mickey and threaten Marko should he win the fight. With his son’s well-being on the line, Marko lets Houseman pound him into the dust and effectively to death, but not before Marko swears on getting even with the rat. Flash forward several months latter and Patty’s moldering corpse is ambling through Houseman’s camp, ready to fulfill his promise. Dragging the gibbering villain into his outdoor ring, Patty proceeds to make patties out of Houseman’s face.

The one aspect that really ends up sinking “Kickin’ the Gong Around!” is the complete disparity and total arbitrariness of the final page compared to the rest of the story. Going through the first few pages, one can’t help but think that Feldstein got his assignments mixed up and started drafting a tale for Crime or Shock SuspenStories but that, upon taking the sixth sheet of copy from his typewriter, was suddenly stricken with the thought, “Oh crap! This is supposed to be a story for Vault of Horror!” And thus, with all the work expended on crafting a fairly decent if completely by-the-numbers melodrama on all the maladies of the boxing life, our intrepid editor busted into the case of go-to endings marked “Break in Case of Emergency,” blew the dust off the file marked “Vengeful Corpse,” slapped it on to the end of this punchy mix and then called it a day. The ending mars what could have been a satisfying conte cruel with a randomly supernatural intervention. The fact that the last page could have been swapped out with literally anything else shows how disconnected the ending presented here is with the remainder of the story. How cool would it have been had both Marko and Houseman kicked the spit bucket somehow and then return from the grave for a final ghoulish showdown? Now that’s a fight I’d get ringside seats to.

This looks like it's going to be a really socially progressive story!

Your name is Frederick Hamilton, and you’re a cheery, lovable doof just returned from a voyage to the dark heart of Africa with a new manservant in tow. B’uuna acted as your guide during your expedition, and being a cheery, lovable and charitable doof you figure “the least you can do” is to tear this savage away from his home and bring him with you to America where his life will undoubtedly improve now that he has a job saving you from tripping over your own ass and keeping your apartment clean. However, you run into a slight snag in introducing B’uuna to Louise, your beautiful fiancé. (She’s so beautiful, you can hardly tear your glassy eyes away from her.) Though cordial, the two of them don’t seem to know what to make of the other, but thankfully you’re there, Frederick Hamilton, to smooth over any wrinkle with a cheery jest and a puff from your ever-at-hand smoking pipe. Louise makes her own efforts to establish a bond with B’uuna by purchasing him a scenic Easter egg, a delightful little ceramic contraption that comes with a viewing window the onlooker can peer into to see an adorable scene of the Easter bunny with his gaily-colored eggs. But the gift isn’t enough to give B’uuna sudden insight into American sarcasm: listening in on a conversation between you and Louise, he overhears the lady say that she doesn’t think she’ll marry you since you’re intent on keeping her in your sights for all the boring days to come. Being your sworn protector and a practitioner of black magic to boot, B’uuna hands you the egg later and promises that Louise will never leave you now. Looking in, you confirm your worst fears: inside is another cheesy ending to a Jack Kamen story!

AAAAAH!

A hare-brained tale indeed. ("Practical Yolk!")

Time has not been kind to “Practical Yolk!,” in more ways than one. I remember thinking this story was a harmless little fancy when I first read it, with an ending that was just the right level of creepy-cute, even if that level wasn’t in keeping with the overall tone of EC’s other horrors. Reading it with more mature eyes has become an exercise in tallying each uncomfortable bit of cultural tunnel-vision as they come at you by the fistful. I needn’t enumerate them here; discerning readers can pick up on the general tenor of the piece through my overly-snarky summary. Outside of that, Hamilton—who Feldstein has the nerve to identify with us, people who actually have brains—is a particularly bizarre brand of Kamen imbecile, infantile and near-obsessed with ogling his fiancé with all the fervor of a trench coat-wearing perv. Or perhaps I’m just not savvy to the story’s tongue-in-cheek nature and missed the sarcasm. Maybe I’ll shrink “Practical Yolk!” down and stuff it inside a rotten egg.

Anita and Jonah Tillman are a middle-aged couple living a blessed and blissful life in suburbia, doting on each other to no end and generally enraptured in their mutual love for one another. Wait, that’s not right. This is an EC story. These two hate each other’s guts! Anita, a childless nurturing type, is forever tending to the stray and wounded animals of the neighborhood while Jonah, a card-carrying member of the He-Man Animal Haters Club, can’t stand the furry beasts. When Anita suggests her husband take up a hobby to filter his impotent rage, Jonah delightedly takes her up on the offer and returns the next day from the store with all the tools of his new trade: sewing thread, knives, and formaldehyde! (Oh my!) That’s right: Jonah’s new hobby is taxidermy! The old bastard wastes no time luring and trapping every critter he can lay his greasy mitts on, turning out perfectly rendered replicas all stuffed, mounted, and ready to make Anita vomit in her mouth. The last straw comes when the basement-dwelling sadist lays claim to Anita’s adopted kitten “Mew-Mew,” and Jonah only has a few seconds to gloat before Anita turns his own knife on him and shows him that he’s not the only one with a hand for taxidermy.

Portrait of the prime EC family. ("Collection Completed!")

The vitriolic husband and wife were no strangers to the pantheon of stock EC characters, but “Collection Completed!” is so steeped in venom that it becomes an almost wearying experience just trying to finish the tale. Whereas similar stories drafted by Jack Kamen would be leavened by a dose of sardonic humor, this Feldstein script fleshed out with the considerable talents of Graham Ingels is practically pure hatred from Caption 1. For all we can tell, Jonah and Anita have been living in this Hell since approximately the minute Jonah proposed. There’s not a shade of affection past or present in the narrative; it seems at times that these two people were brought together in unholy wedlock for the sole purpose of getting under each other’s skin, as it were. The fact that Jonah’s hobby of choice is so upsetting in and of itself—at one point he lures a sad-eyed dog down into his den of horrors after finding it on the street without a collar—makes that development just another dollop of depression on this I-scream sundae. By the time we get to the final panel, the feeling we have is not one of catharsis but one of exhaustion. We’ve seen insidious mental torture, the wanton slaughter of harmless animals, and finally the gibbering descent of an innocent woman into the depths of madness. In the ken of all-consuming horror, few tales from any of EC’s other terror titles can hold a candle to “Collection Completed!” --Jose

Peter Enfantino expresses his eye-re. ("Collection Completed")

Peter: Naturally, being the snarky guy I am, I have to ask why Patty Marko becomes super-human after he dies (a trait often found in the recent EC dead) and is able to beat Houseman to death even while his body falls apart. "Kickin' the Gong A Round!" is just another by-the-numbers revenge-from-the-grave tale with nothing new to add but a change of vocation and the usual snappy Jack Davis art. There are no surprises awaiting us in the climax of "Seance!," except the fact that the Great Gilda was in on the con. I fully expected her to be a part of the ghostly revenge side of things so her admission was unexpected. There's not much heavy lifting for Johnny this time out (not even one of his signature babes), but the art is serviceable and sometimes atmospheric (George's face illuminated by the glow of his cigarette). I'm not sure how, but Bernard, the whacky dinner host of "Just Desserts!" (in Shock #3, review above) has changed his name, visited Africa, and come back with a native as his servant in "Practical Yolk!" What's that, Jose? It's not the same character? Then why do they look exactly alike? Oh, I got it. They're both drawn by Jack Kamen. I'm usually pretty easy when the "twist" is introduced but this one is really "out there." Is Lu-eez dead or has she lost her mind, sitting in that egg, smiling? From the opening page, there's no doubt what fate awaits Jonah of "Collection Completed!," is there? The tale begs the question: where do these dysfunctional couples meet and what pushes them to such vile and hurtful deeds? Was it a reflection of Al's beliefs in marriage at the time or was this plot (used over and over again) just a way of meeting a deadline? Jonah's such an evil character, whose sole joy, it seems, is to torture his wife, that it stretches credibility to the snapping point. A very weak Vault this time out.

Jack Seabrook knows wart it's all about. ("Seance!")

Jack: I love Johnny Craig's art on "Seance!" His depiction of the Vault Keeper is the best I've seen, especially in a gruesome close up that focuses on a big wart at the end of his wretched nose. Reading Craig's stories for this blog is such a delight; I think he's in the tradition of Will Eisner in his dramatic and technical skills, and the fact that he usually writes and draws his own stories makes him the most all-around accomplished of the EC creators, in my opinion. "Gong" is by the numbers until the last page, when the dead fighter suddenly returns as a ghoul and the prose turns extra-purple, which is entertaining: "the fetid, rank, rotted corpse of Patty Marko fights once again" is just plain fun writing. It's hard to believe that the same man who wrote this month's "The Guilty!" wrote "Practical Yolk!" in which every African stereotype is trotted out in service of a ridiculous story, but I guess we have to take the good with the bad when Feldstein is cranking out so many tales per month. The Ghastly story is a hoot, though any woman who would name a cat "Mew-Mew" gets what she deserves, if you ask me. Is taxidermy so easy that one can pick it up quickly and do great work? An intriguing hobby.

Next Week! In Our Double-Sized 97th Issue of Star Spangled DC War Stories: Jack and Peter Once Again Argue Over The Best Stories of the Year!

by Jack Seabrook

One of the pleasures of reading the source for every episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents and The Alfred Hitchcock Hour is the chance to be exposed to great works of crime fiction that I had never read before, both short stories and novels. Death and the Joyful Woman, the 1961 novel by Ellis Peters, was a delight to read. Awarded the Edgar for Best Novel in 1963, the book is the second in a series of thirteen mysteries concerning British Detective-Sergeant George Felse and his family. As the story opens, Felse's fourteen-year-old son Dominic is on his way home from a music lesson when he sees Kitty Norris at the Boat Club, dancing barefoot, and he falls in love at first sight. Fifteen months later, when he is sixteen, they meet again by chance at a blood drive. She gives him a ride home in her fancy car and he learns that she is not only beautiful but also the wealthy heiress to a beer fortune.

Not long after that, beer baron Alfred Armiger celebrates the opening of his latest "super-pub," The Jolly Barmaid, and DS Felse is in attendance. Later that night, he is awakened by a telephone call with the news that Armiger has been murdered, brutally bludgeoned with a bottle of champagne. Felse begins an investigation and discovers that Armiger's will leaves everything to Kitty Norris. Interviewing Kitty, Felse learns of a rift between Armiger and his son Leslie that developed when Leslie married a poor girl named Jean instead of Kitty, as his father wanted him to do. Dominic begins to worry that suspicion of murder will fall on Kitty, the object of his crush.

Gilbert Roland as Luis Aguilar (Alfred Armiger)

The investigation continues as Felse interviews Miss Hamilton, Armiger's long-time secretary and rumored lover, and learns more about the angry split between father and son. With a little pressing, Felse pokes holes in Leslie's account of where he was at the time of the murder. The son admits to having had an argument with his father that evening regarding a gift from father to son of an old sign that had hung outside the pub, which used to be called the Joyful Woman. An expert tells Felse that the sign is very old and possibly valuable. A local laborer finds a pair of stained gloves labeled L.A. in a dustbin and Kitty, nursing an unrequited love for Leslie, tells Dominic that she killed Armiger. The young man disbelieves her claim that she killed the beer baron when he proposed marriage to her. She says that she pushed the father down a flight of stairs and then fled. Dominic tells her that Armiger was killed with a champagne bottle, so when she confesses to Felse her story is accurate and Dominic is consumed with guilt. George comforts his son by telling him that Kitty's clothes had Armiger's blood on them.

Angry at himself for inadvertently giving Kitty information that supported her confession, Dominic is determined to help clear her name. On his bicycle, he tracks her movements on the night of the murder and deduces that she must have been given a ride by the real murderer but she refuses to confirm this. Felse doubts that Leslie is guilty and Dominic tells his father his theory of what really happened, concluding that finding a pair of bloodstained gloves is the key to solving the murder. The police fail to find the gloves and Dominic is determined to do something. He visits Leslie and Jean and tells them his theory, which leads Jean to explain something to him that is withheld from the reader. Dominic visits Armiger's office and speaks to his secretary, Miss Hamilton, revealing that he has found the bloodstained gloves that will clinch the case. He says the gloves belonged to Kitty and he wants to talk to her lawyer to get advice about what to do with them. Miss Hamilton offers to give him a ride that evening when he will give her the gloves to discard.

Laraine Day as Ruth Hamilton

An art history expert tells Leslie that the pub sign is very old and very valuable, a portrait of the Madonna from a church display before 1400. Leslie forgoes the money and insists that the sign be returned to the church. Armiger receives a note from Dominic asking him to notify the police that they need to be at a certain corner at nine o'clock to follow a certain car. The note arrives late and so Leslie and Jean alert the police and race to the scene. Dominic is picked up by Miss Hamilton and gives her a package with the gloves. As she drives through a remote area, she hits him in the back of the head after asking him to get something from the back seat. Leslie and Jean see Miss Hamilton's car speed by and follow it. She pulls off the road and nearly succeeds in dragging Dominic's body into the river when Leslie stops her. The police foil her attempt at escape and she confesses to murdering Armiger after he spurned her by proposing to Kitty.

Dominic recovers and explains how he figured out that Miss Hamilton was the killer. Kitty visits him in the hospital and says she is going away to start a new life. Nine months later, he receives a postcard from her, reporting that she is getting married. He has gotten over his crush and is now "a man with a future and a past."

Tom Lowell as Dominic Felse

Death and the Joyful Woman is an excellent novel. The character of Dominic Felse makes it more than a standard police procedural, since he can engage in activities that the police cannot. His teenage devotion to Kitty makes him determined to find evidence to clear her name, and his tenacity and bravery lead him to the solution. The novel is fairly clued and has an effective red herring in the pub sign, which seems to point to money as a motive for murder. The character of Miss Hamilton is introduced early, interviewed, and returned to in the end, but it is not clear whether Dominic's suspicions are correct until the moment when she attacks him in her car. The final scenes depicting his rescue are suspenseful and exciting. Peters allows her series character, DS Felse, to take a back seat to his own son in this classic mystery.

Watching the adaptation of this novel for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour is an unsettling experience. James Bridges wrote the script, and the show, also titled "Death and the Joyful Woman," premiered on CBS on Friday, April 12, 1963. In my series of essays on the many episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents that were adapted by Robert C. Dennis, I observed that he had a tendency to take scenes that were flashbacks in the original stories and dramatize them on screen, moving them to the beginning of the show so that the events depicted unfold in chronological order. In his teleplay for "Death and the Joyful Woman," James Bridges takes a similar approach, though this time he essentially deconstructs the novel and rebuilds it into a story that is similar but also much different.

Laura Devon as Kitty

The setting has been moved from England to America, probably California, and the entire episode takes place in the course of one evening at the estate of Luis Aguilar, a wealthy winemaker. Unlike Alfred Armiger, who appears briefly in chapter two of the novel and is murdered by an unknown person, Luis Aguilar is a major character in the TV show. While people dance at Aguilar's harvest ball, young Dominic Felse works in the kitchen, hired as a waiter for the occasion. He flirts with Kitty Norris and their banter shows that they are old friends. His crush on her is played for laughs, unlike the novel, where it was the guiding force behind his actions.

Dominic delivers a bottle of Aguilar's wine, the Joyful Woman, to the man in his room, where he sits alone in the dark. After Dominic leaves, Aguilar removes a gun from a drawer and places it on a table. Later, he goes downstairs to join the party and takes his son Al to his new tasting room. Dominic goes with them, bringing two bottles of the Joyful Woman. Aguilar tells his son that he is no longer his son and challenges him to drink him under the table for $5000, something Luis had done with his own father at the same age. Dominic witnesses the game, which Al loses miserably. Already, the TV version of the story is very different from the novel, as we witness the events occurring in chronological order. The addition of the drinking challenge adds novelty and suspense to the story.

Frank Overton as George Felse

Kitty, Jean and Ruth (Miss Hamilton) arrive and Al leaves with Jean. Luis then proposes to Kitty and Ruth runs out of the room. Kitty shoves Luis down the stairs and flees before Ruth returns and kills him with the wine bottle. All of these events (with the exception of the drinking challenge) roughly correspond to what happens in the novel, but in Peters's original story the reader has to piece together what happened as it is uncovered through DS Felse's investigation. More important is the fact that, in the book, Dominic is not at the party, while in the show, he is an important figure in attendance. Outside the tasting room, Kitty confesses murder to Dominic, who goes in and finds Ruth standing over Luis's dead body. She points a gun at Dominic and makes him go to the wine vats, where she hits him over the head with the gun and dumps his body in a huge vat, turns on a water spigot, and leaves him to drown.

The show has now gone far afield from the novel, with the addition of the wine vat peril, which is something straight out of an old movie serial. For the rest of the show, shots of Dominic lying unconscious as the water rises around him are inter cut with scenes of people looking for him. Felse finally arrives in the scene and the search for his missing son is on. He questions Ruth and, after he leaves, she swallows a bottle of sleeping pills. Felse revives Ruth and she reveals Dominic's location. Felse, Kitty, and another policemen find and rescue the young man, and the show is over.

Don Galloway as Al Aguilar (Leslie Armiger)

Dominic's role as amateur detective, which is so important in the novel, is essentially removed from the TV show, though his father comments at one point that: "He would get mixed up in something like this. He's one of these 'I'll play detective' kind of kids." The remark seems forced, as if screenwriter Bridges thought he needed to give a nod to the novel, since Dominic hardly seems like the "I'll play detective" type in this episode.

The red herring of the pub sign has been removed entirely, as have all aspects of the investigation into the murder. We see the murder on screen and Dominic walks in right after it occurs, so solving the crime takes a back seat to the matter of Dominic in danger. The show is entertaining for the first three acts and it is only in the final act that too much happens too fast and the plot falls apart. Up until then, it works mainly due to strong acting by the lead players.

Ellis Peters, who wrote the novel, was a pseudonym of Edith Pargeter (1913-1995), a British novelist who worked as a pharmacist's assistant from 1933 to 1940 and then served in the Women's Royal Naval Service from 1940 to 1945. She began publishing books in 1936 and had a long career as a writer. Death and the Joyful Woman was the second of thirteen mysteries involving DS Felse and his family, published between 1951 and 1978. More famous were her 21 mystery novels featuring twelfth century monk Brother Cadfael, which were published between 1977 and 1992. The Brother Cadfael stories were adapted for television and shown on PBS's Mystery series from 1994 to 1997, starring Derek Jacobi. Very few of her other works were adapted for film or television, though Death and the Joyful Woman was adapted a second time, in 1980, for Czech TV. The CWA recognized her significance by naming the annual award for the best historical mystery after her. This was the only time one of her works was adapted for the Hitchcock series.

First edition

The show was directed by John Brahm (1893-1982), who began directing films in 1936. He directed fifteen episodes of the Hitchcock series and the last one reviewed here was "The Throwback."

Gilbert Roland (1905-1994) plays Luis Aguilar, a nasty father if there ever was one. Born Luis Antonio Damaso de Alonso in Mexico, his career on screen lasted from 1923 until 1982, but this was his only appearance on the Hitchcock show. He began as a Latin lover and made the transition to character parts; he played the Cisco Kid in six films in 1946 and 1947.

Second billing in this episode goes to Laraine Day (1920-2007), who plays the murderer, Ruth Hamilton. Day was born in Utah to a Mormon family and she was on screen from 1937 to 1986. A regular in seven Dr. Kildare movies from 1939 to 1941, she also was featured in Hitchcock's Foreign Correspondent (1940). Her second husband, from 1948 to 1960, was Los Angeles Dodgers manager Leo Durocher. This was her only appearance on the Hitchcock series.

Dominic Felse is played by Tom Lowell (1941- ), who was born in Philadelphia as Lowell Thomas. His first TV role was on The Twilight Zone episode, "The Changing of the Guard," and his career from 1962 to 1979 included a semi-regular role on Combat! from 1962 to 1964. Like all of the other lead players in this episode, this was his only appearance on the Hitchcock show.

Dominic is about to be knocked out and shoved into the vat

In his first non-soap opera role, and nearly his first role on screen, Don Galloway (1937-2009) plays Al Aguilar, the estranged son of Luis. Galloway started out on TV in about 1962 and was on screen until 1995, appearing as a regular in five different TV series. He is best remembered for his role on Ironside with Raymond Burr, where he co-starred from 1967 to 1975.

Laura Devon (1931-2007) plays beautiful Kitty Norris. Born Mary Briley in Chicago, she did some stage work in the 1950s before becoming a familiar sight on TV and in the movies from 1960 to 1967, when she married composer Maurice Jarre and retired from acting.

Finally, Frank Overton (1918-1967) plays George Felse, father of Dominic. He was in movies from 1948 and on TV from 1952 and this was one of his last roles before his untimely death at age 49.

"Death and the Joyful Woman" is not yet available on DVD or online, but the novel by Ellis Peters is easy to find and worth reading.

Sources:
"Death and the Joyful Woman." The Alfred Hitchcock Hour. CBS. 12 Apr. 1963. Television.
Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation. Web. 22 Jan. 2017.

In two weeks: "Dear Uncle George," starring Gene Barry!

The DC War Comics 1959-1976 by Corporals Enfantino and Seabrook

Kubert

 Our Army at War 187

"Shadow of a Sergeant!"
Story  by Robert Kanigher
Art by Russ Heath

"The Real Enemy in the Air!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Jack Abel

Jack: When a new recruit arrives, Sgt. Rock tells him to stick close to Rock and do what he does. In the hand to hand combat with Nazis that follows, the young man is like a "Shadow of a Sergeant!" who tries to mimic Rock's every move, so the combat-happy Joes nickname the young man "Shadow." Easy Co. marches on and is attacked by more Nazis. Rock finds that he has to protect not only himself but also Shadow, who sticks close to him and is thus in the same grave danger. After Easy Co. blows up a bridge, they wander through a dense fog in a forest and are suddenly beset by Nazi crossfire. Rock panics and makes a run for it, hoping not to be killed, but Shadow follows close behind and mistakes Rock's moment of fear for a clever maneuver to get behind the enemy. Rock and Shadow hold off the Nazis until the rest of Easy Co. comes along to mop things up. Rock admits to himself that Shadow was his conscience in his moment of need.

Solid art by Heath doesn't turn this series of skirmishes into much of a story, and Kanigher veers close to Hank Chapman territory when he has Rock refer to sticks of dynamite in a caption as "boom-boom sticks." A house ad in this issue promises that "New things are coming from DC," and I hope they'll affect this series, which is starting to get a bit tired.

"Shadow of a Sergeant!"

Lt. Larry Desmond arrives at an airfield in WWI France looking for his brother Nick. Just then, he witnesses Nick's plane being shot down by enemy ace the Blue Baron and he blames the flight leader, Captain Andrews. Larry requests to fly alongside Andrews, planning to do away with both him and the Blue Baron the next chance he gets, clearly confused about who is "The Real Enemy in the Air!" When the time comes, though, Andrews gives his life to save Larry and the new pilot learns a lesson about heroism.

A hint of Adams?

I recall reading that Neal Adams used to wander around the DC offices, touching up work by other artists, and I would bet my combat boots that he inked some of the panels in Abel's story, because they look much too fine to have been done by Abel alone. The story is also unusually good for a backup, perhaps because it's written by Kanigher.

Peter: Another month, another green Easy recruit. At least this one survived the story; it'll be interesting to see if "Shadow" remains a part of Easy or if he's forgotten quickly. These Easy guys are looking more and more like superheroes, ducking fighter plane detritus and picking up Nazis two at a time. Rock's momentary lapse of a backbone is a puzzler and completely out of character; one panel he's running like a scared rabbit and the next he's right back in the fight. Oh, and Joe Kubert makes the Sarge look like an old hunchback on the cover. Much better is the back-up, surprisingly built on a foundation that usually disappoints. I'd love to know how these pilots are communicating with each other; there are no devices visible so they seem to be just talking to each other over the wind and propeller noise! Jack Abel comes through with flying colors, especially on that splash and the big Blue Baron-Lt. Desmond dog fight.

Novick & Kubert

 Our Fighting Forces 110

"Mountains Full of Death!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Abel

"Sarge Without Stripes!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by John Calnan

Jack: Italian General Bandini decides he wants to surrender to the Americans rather than the Nazis and sends his daughter Carla to summon American General Thomas, whom Bandini recalls saved his life before the war. Hunter's Hellcats are assigned to take General Thomas to the Alps to accept Bandini's surrender and, after a crash course in skiing, they head off toward their destination. After a machine gun battle on skis with Nazi troopers, the Hellcats spend the night in a village, where a traitorous local skis off to alert the Nazis of their arrival. After another fierce battle, Carla leads the Hellcats and the general through a blizzard to find her father. The Nazi general on their trail is killed in an avalanche and the Hellcats accomplish their mission.

"Mountains Full of Death!"

I have a soft spot for comics that take place in the snow, probably going back to when Batman battled Two Face in a 1973 comic (Brave and the Bold #106).  "Mountains Full of Death!" is straightforward but begs the question of why it requires the Hellcats. It seems like any DC War band of heroes could have accomplished this mission and it's not the usual type of Hellcats adventure where everyone says they're all going to die but none of them do.

Private George Wilson reports for duty and immediately turns hero, destroying an enemy tank. A field promotion to sergeant follows, but subsequent battles cause each of his three new stripes to get torn from his shoulder, making him a "Sergeant Without Stripes!" Further heroic acts help to restore his confidence so that he knows the promotion will hold.

"Sergeant Without Stripes!"

We haven't seen much of Hank Chapman lately, and stories like this show why that's a blessing. Samples:

I never expected to open my baby-blues again, but when I did flip my lids . . .

I'm going to red-cap this TNT satchel to the swastika depot!

When I had the Tiger's belly button framed in my battered bazooka's sights--I tickled the trigger . . .

Just awful!

Peter: Not a bad little action-thriller, though chock full of the same silliness that pervades every Hunter's Hellcats installment. The battle between the Cats and the Krauts, both sides trying to avoid making any sound amidst avalanche danger, is a hoot! Ten years later, no comic magazine with a CCA-seal on the cover would be able to get away with dialogue like "Take a deep snort o' the white stuff! Good for your insides!""Sarge Without Stripes!" is immensely predictable but it does contain the best John Calnan art I've ever encountered. The narrative is so vague we never find out whether it's a bigger deal that this guy lost his stripes or his men.

Kubert

 G.I. Combat 127

"Mission--Sudden Death!!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Irv Novick

"The Last Chance for Hobie!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Abel

Peter: Jeb Stuart (the tank commander) watches in horror as his skipper has his tank blasted by a Panzer. The Jeb (the tank) gets its sweet revenge on the Nazi scum and the boys dig the dying skipper out of his tank. Before he joins Gen Jeb Stuart (the ghost who "bodyguards" the "Haunted Tank"), the skipper (who has no name other than "skipper") passes along his mission to the boys: they must aid Mlle. Marie, who is rescuing a French scientist the following night, and get them back safely to the Allies. The skipper passes on just as Jeb Stuart (the ghost) passes on a message to his distant relative: the Jeb Stuart's men will be forced to fight on a different battlefield than the usual one. Jeb (the young guy) has no idea what the specter is talking about and when he presses him for a clearer warning, the haunt bids farewell. Shortly afterward, the men must save an Allied plane being strafed by a Nazi and the only survivor among the parachuters is the lovely Mlle. Marie, sexy but deadly freedom fighter of the underground (who explains that the man they are to rescue in the small village of Crecy is not only a famous scientist but also her father)! The crew arrive at Crecy after a couple of obstacles are cleared away (tank and Nazi dog patrol) and rescue Mlle. Marie's papa just as he's being grilled by Nazi swine. Without Russ Heath artwork, "Mission--Sudden Death!!" becomes just another weak series entry (and I doubt we'd see sound effects marring a gorgeous Heath job). Marie adds a little pep to the proceedings (my colleague will argue quite a bit of pep) but there's nothing we haven't seen before. Marie's father, never mentioned before, will probably never figure into a story again. And the old guy from the Civil War delivers another cryptic message but this time there's not a shred of sense to it: in what way does the Haunted Tank "fight on a different battlefield . . .?"

Why not slap sound effects on a Novick job?

Jack: I was hoping that you would understand the ghost's warning, since I could not make heads nor tails of it. I'm always happy to see zat French macaroon, Mlle. Marie, but this story looks like it was a bit of a rush job by Novick and our favorite cookie is not at her best. The story could have featured any DC war hero and the "haunted" aspect was just tossed in to justify including it in this series.

"The Last Chance for Hobie!"

Peter: Poor Hobie Harris can't hit the side of a barn and that's not very good when you're a bombardier. The first batch of missions go completely haywire but this latest one turns out to be "The Last Chance for Hobie!" His plane ditched, Hobie parachutes and is discovered by a band of underground freedom fighters (sorry, Jack--no Mlle. Marie!) who bring him to an abandoned Nazi Stuka and explain that a German ammo plant is nearby and they're itching to bomb it. Hobie jumps aboard the Stuka, unloads his TNT candy right on the money, and blasts those Nazi bastards to hell! Hobie arrives back at the base and smiles as his C.O. tells him he's an ace. I don't have time to check back through my notes but this story has already been delivered to us at least a couple of times--poor SOB can't get anything right but delivers the payload when it's needed most. And the poor slob has to remind us constantly he's a dud at this war stuff. But all's well that ends well when the guy suddenly finds his mojo. If DC pilots had flown in WWII, the war would have been over by 1943.

Jack: Liss and Abel take an old story and make it more interesting than the Haunted Tank tale that opens this issue. Once Hobie parachutes into the French countryside, the action really gets going, and the final bombing run is exciting. In an unusual move, we see one of the French resistance fighters being shot to death in the background as Hobie and another member of the underground get away safely. I just have one question: did the Nazis build ammo plants in occupied France? If not, what are French resistance fighters doing in Germany?

Kubert

 Star Spangled War Stories 136

"The Hot Rod of Death!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Abel

"The G.I. Who Cried 'Tank'!"
Story by Hank Chapman
Art by Jack Abel

Peter: Sgt. Rick Terry can't believe it! He's aboard a flying fort when he recognizes the pilot as the guy responsible for the death of Rick's father years before. Pilot Joe Weldon was driving "The Hot Rod of Death!" and forced Rick and his pop off the road and into a fatal collision with a tree. When Joe is not arrested, Rick craves revenge but, before he can make heads or tails of this amazing coincidence, the plane is attacked by pterodactyl-creatures from the stone-age prehistoric era and the fort is forced down onto an island below. Once there, Joe Weldon's true colors come out once again as he runs from danger and leaves innocents to die, squished under the feet of ten-ton monsters. Rick has to save a gorgeous nurse from the web of a giant spider and then the couple run across Weldon piecing together a raft to escape. Rick puts his past to one side in order to assist Weldon with the construction of the getaway vehicle but Weldon conks Rick on the noggin, grabs the babe, and heads off on the raft. They don't get far before a gigantic crab monster reaches out and carries Weldon to his watery doom. Rick manages to swim out and save the damsel in distress and propel them past the reef of monsters. As the couple await rescue, Rick muses that his six-year nightmare is over.

When you read "The Hot Rod of Death!" it becomes painfully obvious that Howard Liss merely skimmed through some of Big Bob's old scripts and aped the recurring themes. Usually, we have Russ Heath's gorgeous visuals to look at while we ignore the silly words, but here we have only Jack Abel--and bad Jack Abel to boot. Abel's art is nearly unrecognizable; as with one of Jack's contributions a couple months prior, this art almost looks like that of Jerry Grandenetti (witness the sloppy faces and large eyes). Hard to believe this is the same Jack Abel responsible for such high-quality work as "Ace of the Death Cloud" back in SSWS #134. The only highlight is the first appearance, if I'm not mistaken, of a giant spider in the War That Time Forgot. Grab onto the little things and hold them tight, I says.

Jack: It's not fair to put a Joe Kubert cover on an all-Abel issue, is it? When we see Rick and Joe in flashback near the start of this story, Joe looks about eight years old and Rick about twelve, yet Rick was driving a hot rod and six years later Joe is in the service. Nurse Robbie turns out to be pretty handy with a machine gun and Abel's dino drawings aren't half bad, so this story was at least average for the WTTF, if not slightly above average, and certainly better than another one by Andru and Esposito.

Peter: All the boys in the platoon are sick and tired of "The G.I. Who Cried 'Tank'!" but sure as his name is Mulvaney, this private will sniff out a tank if it's the last thing he does. Fortunately, he's aided in his search by (Jack Seabrook's old friend) Sgt. Mule, a donkey with special training and a sense of humor to boot. Together, the Pvt. and the Sgt. make jackasses out of the entire German army. The third and final Jack-Ass Team-Up story between Pvt. Mulvaney and Sgt. Mule, this "long-awaited" conclusion to the epic has about as much to recommend it as the previous two. It's only January but we'll (hopefully) be hard-pressed to find a worse story than this one in 1968.

Jack: Not Sgt. Mule again, "kicking away with TNT hooves"! The height of lunacy comes when Sgt. Mule grabs a grenade in his teeth and gallops over to a tank to drop it in the gun barrel. I can't believe you talked me into reading this stuff!

That's some mighty speedy rowing!

Kubert

Our Army at War 188

"Death Comes for Easy!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert and Jack Abel

"Live Wire for Easy"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Ross Andru and Mike Esposito
(Reprinted from G.I. Combat #57, February 1958)

Jack: The latest new recruit to join Easy Co. is a laconic gent with an earring and a pack of Tarot cards, so Ice Cream Soldier gives him the nickname of Gypsy. The only problem with the new guy is that he keeps dealing out his cards and when they land on death, the soldier to whom they were dealt promptly gets killed. When Gypsy deals himself the fatal card, he's sure his time is up, but Rock knows that he must protect the soldier so that his men don't believe the superstition. Gypsy is nearly killed, but Rock drags him back to base and provides a blood transfusion that saves his life. The gypsy/tarot card angle makes this story more interesting than the typical new recruit tale, but Abel's inks do no favor to Kubert's pencils or layouts. Compare the panels reproduced here to the stunning cover to see how Kubert inking himself really looks great.

Abel draws an awkward arm angle on Rock

Jackie's face is pure Abel

In "Live Wire for Easy," a new recruit blabs on and on about how the men on the ground have more mobility than those in tanks or planes, much to the annoyance of the seasoned soldiers around him. After a few close scrapes, he is a bit less cheerful and looks askance at a newer recruit who sings the song he once sang. Oddly enough, Andru and Esposito's art isn't as stylized in this reprint from 1958 and, as a result, it's more enjoyable.

"Live Wire for Easy"

Peter: I thought it really funny when Rock says of the new recruit: "Easy had never seen the likes of this replacement before . . ." This, just one issue after "Shadow" made the exact same entrance as "Gypsy!""Death Comes for Easy!" is a bit of offbeat fun, despite the Kanigher-isms that attempt to derail the story. Even while Rock is keeping "Gypsy" out of the sniper's sight or kicking away the occasional potato masher, he's repeating the mantra, "I gotta keep this guy alive so the boys won't become superstitious," rather than "I gotta keep this guy alive because it's the right thing to do." The art is odd, with Jack Abel muting the Kubert magic here and there but Joe shining right through in other spots. It's immediately noticeable in the backgrounds as if Joe supplied the breakdowns and Jack finished. I'm not sure I understand the message of "Live Wire for Easy" (a rare look at life before Sgt. Rock?) but, hey, as long as this is Andru and Esposito before they portrayed everyone with saucer eyes, I'm okay with it.



10 "Save My Life and Kill Me!" (Star Spangled War Stories 135)

Next Week! Zorgo and Elicia get married and have a baby. The toddler grows up to be . . . Ah, but that would be spoiling the surprise! Join us here for the answer!

Kurtzman

Frontline Combat #7

"Iwo Jima!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by Wally Wood

"The Landing!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by John Severin and Will Elder

"The Caves!" ★★★
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by John Severin

"Mopping Up!" ★★★ 1/2
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by Jack Davis

This special seventh issue of Frontline Combat, like Two-Fisted Tales #26 before it, seeks to depict a legendary bit of warfare through four interconnected vignettes, the subject here being that symbolic mainstay of the Second World War, Iwo Jima, starting off with a blazing front cover by Kurtzman, one of his very best for the war titles.

The first titular tale finds us in an American bombardier plane as the crew tries to hone in on a suitable spot for landing after their engines suffer from heavy enemy fire. The navigator shouts that the nearby Japanese island will do in a pinch for their emergency descent. One of the boys on board prays that his big brother in the Marines has made it safely in his trek across the island. Following a stunning splash by Wally Wood, the majority of the story’s six pages are then devoted to setting the stage of Iwo Jima—literally. Kurtzman outlines the actual geological formation of the island from its origins as an underwater mountain range to the ugly, crag-studded piece of volcanic ash that it is "today." While this doesn’t necessarily come across as thrilling reading, the detailing of Iwo Jima’s “birth” gives the seemingly inconsequential island of eight square miles an epic and primordial feel, an unconventional arena for one of the fiercest and bloodiest battles in modern warfare. As such, the lead story doesn’t end up feeling much like a story at all, more of a prologue, and it also means that Wood’s talents are limited to some staid and stilted layouts, but Wood’s power manages to shine through in the occasional panel and ably prepares us for all the hardship and loss to come.

The trusty team of Severin ’n’ Elder pick up right where we left off (and the pace) with their tale, “The Landing!” It’s D-Day, 1945, and the Marines rush ever onward against a constant barrage of Japanese firepower. Some troops are more acclimated to the heat of battle than others; others like the man called Blackie, who drags his feet at every possible moment in fear of death, a habit that leads to the slaughter of his own comrades when they stop to goad him along. Their advance comes to a standstill just outside a yawning cave as a sequestered sniper patiently takes out more of their number even after the Marines respond with their own artillery. Blackie insists on hugging the ground and keeping his eye on the cave. An end to the butchery finally seems to come with the arrival of a flame-throwing tank that promptly incinerates the cave. As the troops move in, the sergeant goes to lambaste Blackie for lagging behind yet again only to see that Blackie is dead and has been for some time, his position on the ground maintained and a bullet in his head.

"The Landing"

Though “The Landing!” has a twist ending that seems to indicate Kurtzman was trying to impart a moral lesson to the reader, it’s hard to say just what he might have been going for. (Don’t judge others lest, etc.?) The second chapter in this saga offers a decent amount of action and features several panels that are classic Severin/Elder compositions, from the bloodless yet blunt image of a Marine getting a sniper’s bullet right between the eyes to the silent, majestic violence of the tank pouring hellfire upon the cave like a dragon out of legend.

"The Caves"

In the next segment, “The Caves,” we see Severin going on one of his solo jaunts and our reader sympathies realigned to identify with the Japanese army ferreted away in the earthen honeycombs of Iwo Jima. There is only one soldier among the group who protests against his comrades’ slavish devotion to the Emperor and killing as many Americans as possible for the glory of their country. The rest are of a like mind as their steadfast commander who orders two kamikaze soldiers to attack the flame-throwing tank with bombs while the rest flee in the other direction. Machine guns force them back into the caves where they resolve to kill themselves via hand grenades rather than face torture and degradation at the hands of the Americans. Our doubting soldier is the only one whose hand stays on the grenade. His shame at his inability to join his brothers outweighs his fear of death, so he charges out of the caves waving his grenade to proudly die at the feet of his enemies.

Good on Kurtzman for shifting his perspective to “the enemy’s” side of the story, but in of itself “The Caves!” won’t be convincing readers anytime soon that there were “good guys” fighting on the side of the Japanese. The majority of the Axis troops are depicted here as dogmatic and completely resolute in their mission to take down every last man standing, even if it means dying themselves. (It’s funny, because had it been the Americans spouting these lines we would probably have viewed them as being terribly heroic and righteous. So it goes.) Severin seems to be improving with each solo assignment he takes on.

Davis doing what Davis does best.

With the brunt of the battle for the island mostly finished, all our American boys need worry about now is “Mopping Up!” The endless warfare has taken its toll more heavily on some than on others. Others like Corporal Ralph, a man desperately trying to cling to the last tattered shreds of his resolve as nearly everyone close to him dies from the final bursts of enemy attack. But witnessing mortars dropping directly on men, seeing buddies trip mines, and watching as fresh-faced comrades whose names he hasn’t even learned yet get felled by bullets is enough to crack Ralph’s fragile mind in two, leaving him a silent husk completely succumbed to a pall of war fatigue. As the shell-shocked corporal sits in the mud, the fighter plane from the opening chapter grinds into the earth behind him. A friendly, familiar voice rings out. Ralph recognizes his baby brother, and for a few blissful moments the corporal is able to celebrate the wonders of life even in the face of tragedy and death.

“Mopping Up!” starts off with a great splash panel by Jack Davis showing a trio of Marines standing in the artist’s indelible hangdog style over the corpse of the doubting Japanese soldier from “The Caves!” and then proceeds to only get better from there. It is a fitting final note to the ceaseless fight for Iwo Jima, the art as bone-weary and ragged as the characters who occupy the story. Davis’s natural talent for depicting hysteria and its physical manifestations is put to good use throughout “Mopping Up!” as Ralph rants and weeps over each successive death of his brothers in arms. The note of happiness and renewal that the story leaves off on might strike some as an example of Dickensian-levels of coincidence, but the harsh arrival of the fighter plane that occurs behind a shaken and oblivious Ralph results in one of Davis’s best single panels yet, an image that more than a few contemporary readers could probably identify with in these interesting political times of ours.--Jose

Comfortably Numb: The 2016-17 Season in Images by Jack Davis. ("Mopping Up!")

Peter: Clint Eastwood tackled Iwo Jima much the same way as Harvey Kurtzman, looking at the battle from both sides in his films, Flags of Our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima (both 2006). As with Harvey's special issue on the Chungjin Reservoir (in Two-Fisted #26), these four "chapters" aren't so much stories as vignettes but all four pack a punch. "Iwo Jima!" provides not only a history lesson but a geology tutorial as well ("molten lava when it cools becomes rock . . . ," etc.). Until the wrap-up panels in "Mopping Up!," we have no idea of the fate of the bombardiers. "The Landing!" and "The Caves!" both close with wallops of irony but it's the finale, "Mopping Up!," which has the most impact, thanks to Jack Davis's perfect art. Davis's G.I. grunts are unshaven, unwashed, mentally broken slobs. There was some concern months ago that Davis wasn't coming along as an artist; that may be true of his horror stories but his contributions to Harvey's war tales is undeniable. It's a nice change of pace that Harvey resisted having the reunited brothers taken out by hidden snipers. A semi-happy ending then to a costly battle.

Corporal Seabrook shows Private Enfantino what he thinks of this issue. ("The Landing")

Jack: I liked "The Landing!" and "The Caves!" best but I agree that this issue is a letdown. "Iwo Jima!" is a boring waste of Wally Wood's talents. In "The Landing!," things start to perk up when humanist Kurtzman begins to focus on individual soldiers, but it's surprising that the famous flag-raising moment is not shown and barely mentioned. "The Caves!" features a fine switch of perspective and "Mopping Up!" has the best art of the issue but loses points for the coincidental scene at the end when the two brothers meet on the island. Bob Kanigher would later over use similar coincidences in his 1960s DC War comics.

Feldstein

Weird Fantasy #14

"The Exile!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Wally Wood

"The Expert!" ★★ 1/2
"The Ad!" ★★
Stories by Al Feldstein
Art by Joe Orlando

"Close Call!" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Mad Journey!" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Al Williamson, Frank Frazetta, and Roy Krenkel

Dr. Hugo Strange weighs in. ("The Exile!")

The United Galactic Empire has devised a way to weed out evil from their planet: all criminals are brainwashed and shipped to a prison planet far away. Their memories are stripped to prevent them from remembering exactly where they came from and, as the years go by, each successive batch of "immigrants" is given just a little more intelligence so that they can fit in with the previous settlers. U.G.E. pilots X-51 and Z-7 (this planet has foregone names) commiserate on the state of the prison planet as they transport its latest "prisoner." Z-7, the elder of the two, explains to X-51 the history of the project as they prepare to land on the prison planet's moon. When asked, Z-7 tells X-51 that the planet's name is Earth, the year is 1914, and "The Exile!" is named Adolph (sic) Hitler. "The Exile" has a humdinger of a final panel but the whole narrative threatens to sag due to a needlessly complex expository (one you'll need to read a couple times to digest). Very clever how Al rolls out the first reveal ("The prison populace call their planet . . ."- turn the page - "Earth!") almost as though to settle the audience down before he drops the chandelier on them. We've known these space travelers are talking about Earth (even though they haven't named it) all along so we're actually pretty disappointed that this is the big shock, but then Al giggles and whispers, "You don't know the half of it, kid!" Wally continues to draw the fittest men in capes in all of EC science fiction.

"The Expert!"

Al and Bill are running out of ideas for science fiction stories (don't we know it!) when Al hits on the idea of a complete issue dedicated to landing on Mars. Despite his cheapskate mentality, Bill agrees to hire the preeminent expert on all things Red Planet, Professor Guernsey Von Holstein. "The Expert!" gets right to work, explaining to the EC boys that Mars has several canals, "und on de canals iss gondolas!" Martians look just like humans, with one exception: "ven a Martian iss getting excited, out from his head is popping two little antennas!" Realizing they've wasted time and money, the boys rip up Von Holstein's contract and kick him out of their office. This does not go down well with the nutty professor, as evidenced by the two antennae popping from his head.

While finishing up Weird Space-Operas #69, Bill and Al receive devastating news: one of their advertisers has pulled his spot in the latest issue and now the page is blank. What to do? Quick-witted Al comes up with a phony ad for a round-trip to Mars and the page is filled. Some time later, a fan shows up at the EC offices to thank the boys for running "The Ad!," which helped introduce him to his new wife, Glodsk, a three-eyed, four-armed beauty from Mars. Spa Fon! Harmless piece of fun; a look behind-the-scenes at the EC think-tank. It's heartening to know that both Al and Bill realized they were mining an empty vein with their stories on how "the world is wiped out" and a scientist with a gorgeous assistant and a shrew for a wife. Both benefit from an obvious self-deprecating humor; neither took themselves too seriously despite the thousands of letters received crowning them kings of comics. With the humor inherent in these little one-offs and in the horror titles, you just knew it was only a matter of time before the boys would break out a genuine funny book.

"Close Call"

Doctor Annette Beard is seemingly the last person left alive after a nuclear explosion at the Atomic Energy Commission wipes out . . . well, a good portion of something. Hunkered in her "lead-walled counter-radiation chamber," Dr. Beard manages to miss out on the deadly radioactive cloud that descends on . . . a whole lot of people. Ann strolls the streets, skipping over mummified remains and dreaming of the days when jewelry meant something to her and men fawned over her. Now, Ann would give anything to meet up with a big, strong, handsome, radiation-free male so she heads to the Hotel Grand, books herself into the Presidential Suite and has a nap. Her rest is interrupted by the ringing of the pay phone in the lobby. Ann rushes down, lifts the receiver and is ecstatic to hear a man's voice. When Ann identifies herself, the voice apologizes, explains he has the wrong number, and hangs up. The "last man on Earth" tale is an old one (perhaps best told by Richard Matheson) and we've even had "last woman on Earth" stories as well. "Close Call!," though not entirely successful, is at least a bit different if not forthcoming on some of the pertinent facts surrounding the "massive explosion." How widespread is the damage and death toll? It's only one power plant that goes up but Al seems to imply we're talking the whole U.S. of A., if not the globe. How does Annette keep that gorgeous blonde hair shimmering after months in a bunker and then days of wandering and tripping over corpses? Most importantly, who is the mystery caller? Actually, that last bit remaining a mystery adds an extra star to my rating.

"Mad Journey"

Crown Oil Company President Rodney Simon is presented with a fabulous gift from one of his employees: the man has concocted a jet fuel that would enable Simon to rocket a ship to the moon. Realizing what a P.R. dream this is (not to mention the "one small step for man . . ." stuff), Simon okays the project but, halfway through, signals are received from Venus. Simon decides to set his course a bit further and the ship blasts off on schedule. Unfortunately, the scientists had not planned on the thick cloud layer that covers Venus and the ship crashes. Simon is the only survivor of the "Mad Journey!" and he hightails it through the Venusian desert, looking for some form of life. Luckily for him, the Earthman finds a huge metropolis teeming with humanoids, but when he tries to explain his situation, his rescuers throw him into an insane asylum for Venusians who insist they're from Earth. Welcome Al Williamson, artist extraordinaire, who will deliver some classic work in the future for EC Comics, and Frank Frazetta, perhaps the greatest fantasy artist of all time and a man who will do much too little work for EC. Unfortunately, "Mad Journey!" does not stand with those upcoming goodies in the Hall of Funny Book Fame. Frazetta's and Williamson's work here is flat and uninteresting, with most panels consisting of close-ups of characters looking pensive or posed. The script doesn't help things either. Al Feldstein loves his science, no matter how boring the delivery will be, and this story's filled with endless expository: "The escape velocity from Earth is seven miles per second! The escape velocity of the moon is two m.p.s. . . . but the moon has no atmosphere, hence fuel would be used in braking the ship equal to the moon's escape velocity! That makes it four m.p.s. for a grand total of eleven m.p.s. escape velocities we'd have to overcome" is just one word balloon! I'm sure several kids who read EC science fiction went on to become great scientists but I ain't one of them. Just tell me the ship is going to make it to Venus and there'll be gorgeous babes there. Why would kooks on Venus insist they're from Earth and how would they know to call it Earth?  --Peter

The moral of this story: blame the aliens! ("The Exile!")

Jack: I was excited when I saw that we were going to get a story drawn by Williamson and Frazetta, but the result was a terrible disappointment. Feldstein's script is yet another example of scientists standing around talking to each other and it gives the great artists absolutely nothing to work with. Similarly mind-numbing is "The Exile!" in which Wood also gets to draw people standing, sitting and lounging around while they talk to each other. The final panel is a surprise but it doesn't make up for the rest of the story. The two quickies are funny and cute and continue to demonstrate why Joe Orlando has quickly become the go-to guy for humor, but the biggest surprise of the issue is the Kamen story, which is rather entertaining and has a terrific surprise ending.

Jose: There are great chunks of this issue that are drier than a two-week-old pork chop, but even so there can still be found several silver threads among the mold. “The Exile!” manages to play a good game of keep-away with the reader, cleverly navigating its way from one neat, if albeit obvious, revelation to another. Stories with this type of denouement can be fun in their own right, but I can’t help but always see them as sedatives for the conscience: wouldn’t it be preferable to think that all our worldly misfortunes were caused by alien jailers dumping their worst inmates upon us rather than dealing with the fact that it’s really just been us the whole time? The leaden science fair presentation-jargon that anchors “The Exile!” also makes reading “Mad Journey!” an unfortunate expedition in of itself. I was much fonder of the art than my cohorts. Sure the action may be limited, but Williamson, Frazetta, and Krenkel work a good amount of mood out of these static scenes, their lean, sinewy, and aquiline characters occupying some noir-shaded locales that include a posh office reeking macho status with its brazen sculptures of the human form. The two Quickies on hand are pretty hilarious; I love Gaines and Feldstein in this screwball mode. My favorite line was from “The Ad!”: just before he raids the cash-lined pockets of EC Comics’s biggest fan, Bill offers the proclamation, “Give this man a box of marshmallows, Al!” This is the Humor in a Jugular Vein that I pine for. They say every good story should leave you with more questions than answers, but “Close Call!” refuses to answer certain questions that would determine if the story ever had a genuine external conflict to begin with outside of Dr. Beard’s repulsion to the advances of men. At the end of the day, though, I much prefer a story like this over one that goes (way) out of its way to explain its central phenomena. Taken on its own terms, this is a fairly chilling parable that finds a coldly guarded woman being pushed back by a cold, guarded universe that wants nothing of her cries for companionship. For Dr. Annette Beard, the end of the world comes not with a bang but with the sound of a dial tone.

Ingels

The Haunt of Fear #14

"A Little Stranger!" ★★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels

"Take Your Pick!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Ship-Shape!" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Sid Check

"This Little Piggy . . ." ★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis


Some years ago, Bavarian villagers were horrified to find a corpse with two puncture marks in its neck and evidence of flesh eaten away. They conclude that it is the work of a vampire and a werewolf, and they're right! Up in a cave in the Alps, Elicia the vampire and Zorgo the werewolf are carrying on a torrid love affair that has to pause between full moons. The villagers find them, kill them, and bury them in the Devil's Graveyard, but that doesn't stop them from being wed by moonlight, with a crowd of corpses in attendance. A year later, Elicia welcomes "A Little Stranger!" to their new family, and the baby is none other than the Old Witch!

Ain't she a cutie? ("A Little Stranger!")

Although it was reprinted in the 1971 collection Comix, I don't remember this story, so I was completely surprised by the identity of the cute little tyke. Ghastly really outdoes himself here, what with the tremendous cover and the smooth and horrific art gracing this charming little fable. Gaines and Feldstein have fun with the Gothic horror genre and we are all the better for it.

Why so chipper? ("Take Your Pick!")

Stuart Braden is so mean! What is his worst act? "Take Your Pick!" Is it when he turns away a poor child at the door begging for a scrap of food? How about refusing to help the former partner from whom he stole a business? Putting the dog out in the snow? Refusing to help a man lying by the side of the road? For Stuart's wife Emma, the last straw comes when he refuses to pay for an operation and her mother dies. Stuart was proud of his heart of ice, so when Emma snaps she takes an ice pick and tries to chop it out. The cops find her still poking away with an ice pick at hubby's corpse.

Ebenezer Scrooge had nothing on Stuart Braden, who is so mean and cruel that it gets ridiculous. Kamen's art is particularly wooden in this story, but the final panel, with Emma chopping away at Stuart's chest, made me laugh out loud. For some reason, his cruelty toward Emma's Mom reminded me of Steve Martin's old routine, "Mad at My Mother."

Masterpiece Theater Presents: The Grime of the Ancient Mariner. ("Ship-Shape!")

A small plane crashes in the Pacific and the four people aboard escape in an inflatable life raft, drifting in shark-infested waters for two days before seeing a ship. Yet not everything is "Ship-Shape!" on the abandoned and derelict tanker that they board, since it is covered with a hungry, oozing fungus that devours first one man and then another. The plane's pilot and the sole female passenger return to the life raft but, right before they can be rescued by a passing plane, they are eaten up by the same hungry ooze, a bit of which got on the raft when it touched the ship.

This is our first exposure to Sid Check, whose art looks more Golden Age than New Trend to me. Still, I like it, and I enjoyed the story, which seems rather Lovecraftian.

It's enough to make you spit! ("This Little Piggy . . .")

Lt. Horace Sturdy of the Royal Bengal Lancers visits his uncle, who is the governor of a walled settlement near Meerut on the River Ganges in India. Horace is dazzled by the local wild boars and wants to hunt and kill one, but his uncle warns him that the beasts are sacred to the local people and that killing one would be most unwise. The idiot nephew goes hunting anyway and his manservant is forced to kill a boar to save his master's life. Horace has it prepared and served for dinner to his uncle's horror. The uncle apologizes to the local tribal chief and tells Horace he must leave right away, but Horace decides he wants to take home a boar's head for display on his wall. He kills another boar but is then chased by a local tribesman, who drives a spear through him and kills him. That night, the governor is served Horace on a platter!

"This Little Piggy . . ." is obviously going to end with Horace on a serving dish, so reading it is just a matter of seeing how Feldstein and Davis get us from point A to point B. The art is nothing special but the last panel is fun.--Jack

When the bare*bones staff thinks of Heaven, it looks something like this! ("A Little Stranger!")

Peter: The synopsis for "A Little Stranger!" might sound like a really bad Spanish horror movie starring Paul Naschy but the sheer goofiness of the story is what pushes it into classic status for me. Gaines and Feldstein clearly decided to poke fun at the horror genre, in particular the Universal monster fests such as House of Dracula and House of Frankenstein, capped off by that wacky final full-page panel. Thirteen years later, Archie Goodwin would pay homage to “A Little Stranger!” with “Monster Rally” (Creepy #4, August 1965), an origin story for Uncle Creepy (illustrated by Angelo Torres). I only have one technical question: how did the lovely couple make it to the wedding and then . . . um, make it? They're both dead dead. Are they in some kind of spirit world? Should I stop asking dumb questions? "Take Your Pick!" is yet another utterly predictable Feldstein/Kamen preachy about loving your neighbor and "This Little Piggy . . .!" would be an utter boar without Jack's crazy graphics. That leaves "Ship-Shape!," which I liked very much. A nice, nasty climax and a plot-device not yet run into the ground (the deadly abandoned ship) add up to a solid chiller.

Jose: It’s stories like “A Little Stranger!” that make you genuinely thankful for being alive. For those who grew up on the horror genre and fell in love with all the creaky conventions from fluttering bats to tilting graves, the lead tale in this issue reads like a true love letter, inked in blood and written with the utmost affection. Bill and Al might have been attempting to poke some light-hearted fun and send up the genre’s hoariest tropes with this “origin story,” but “A Little Stranger!” is so sumptuously overheated and pulpy that it comes across to me more as a living testament as to just why all us freaks love the genre so much rather than a pointed look at some of its more silly clichés. Just look at that final scene: it’s a black wedding ceremony of a dead werewolf and a dead vampire attended by the moldering occupants of a place called the Devil’s Graveyard. If you’re not grinning ear-to-ear by the time Ingels rolls that scene out with his magnificent pencils then there is no helping you. There are few stories that could live up to the grandiose “A Little Stranger!;” the rest of this issue can’t help but look lacking in comparison, but if you’re like me you’ll be too far into your satanic swoon to mind it much. In “Take Your Pick” and “This Little Piggy …,” Feldstein goes about the business of setting up his nine-pin villains for their eventual meeting with justice in such a resolute manner that he fails to notice that his scoundrels are paper-thin; both fall limply to the ground under the weight of their one-note, incredulity-spurring behavior long before their respective punishments come rolling their way. “Ship-Shape!” tries to take a share of that old purple prose religion from “A Little Stranger!,” and though the narrative does have a small sense of robust adventure, the art by Sid Check is too ungainly to be enjoyed. His panel layout reminds me of Rudy Palais on a really bad day; all the clutter and weird anatomy but with none of Palais' frenzied weirdness to make it interesting or compelling.

Kurtzman

Two-Fisted Tales #28

"Checkers!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by John Severin and Will Elder

"Pell's Point!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by Wally Wood

"Alamo!" ★★
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by John Severin

"Saipan!" ★★★
Story by Harvey Kurtzman
Art by Jack Davis

"Checkers!"

Korean soldiers Strauss and Kilpatrick are trying to finish their game of "Checkers!" when the order is given to move out. Mission: head out to a patrol that was ambushed and bring back the wounded. It's a suicide mission but the men jump in their tanks and roll. Things get dicey when the tanks run into land mines and anti-tank guns but, in the end, Strauss and Kilpatrick make it back to base to finish their game. Harvey lets the men (and the art) tell the tale; this is a rare example of a comic story sans captions. An interesting vignette, with great Elder/Severin art, but nothing we haven't seen already.

The American revolution in full force, our troops battle the British at "Pell's Point!" When the British arrive, commanded by Sir William Howe,  they suffer heavy casualties at the muskets of the Yankees but they just keep on coming. Though his comrades are ordered to retreat and regroup, Yankee Jamie Kemp refuses, opting to charge the Brits by himself. Left alone, he is captured and hanged.

Mexican troops storm the Alamo and kill all 150 Texians within the walls (including Jim Bowie and Davy Crockett). Santa Anna wins this first battle but the bloody siege reinvigorates a "disorganized Texas" and, soon, Santa Anna's men are wiped out. Gorgeously illustrated but little more than two chapters in Harvey Kurtzman Teaches History to the Kids. Not that I don't respect all the work put into these little glimpses into past conflicts; Harvey probably had the Encyclopedia Britannica and little else to draw information from, as opposed to today's world where the entire conflict is given in minute detail on Wikipedia. I give the edge to "Pell" thanks to its dynamic art; Severin without Elder turns out to be a glass half empty a la Elder's solo story in this month's Weird Science (below).

"Pell's Point!"

"Saipan!"

Battling the Japanese on the island of "Saipan!," an American platoon is told that a banzai attack from the surrounding cane fields is imminent. Realizing they're too close to effectively stave off a banzai attack, the soldiers pull up stakes and head further down the road. Platoon leader Bartoli is hit (by enemy fire? maybe.) and critically wounded so Pvt. Leinhoff falls back to aid him, knowing he'll be flying solo against the enemy. Meanwhile, a single Japanese is beating the cane with his sword, looking for soldiers. Finally realizing they're missing Leinhoff, the platoon stops on a nearby hill and spots both their comrade and his impending doom. They unload on the Japanese soldier and reunite with Leinhoff just as their C.O. marches up and informs them that the banzai attack was nothing but a rumor. Like the previous two stories, "Saipan!" is designed to teach us a little something about our military history but, unlike "Pell" and "Alamo," there's a separate story to be told within the story. The situation these men find themselves would be almost comical if it wasn't highly fatal. Leinhoff drops and waits for the wave of banzais sure to come out of the cane field any minute, unaware of the menace from behind. When the platoon first spots Leinhoff, they mistake him for a "Jap" with a machine gun, lying in wait for an unlucky GI. FUBAR indeed! --Peter

"Alamo!"

Jack: You think he was handed at the end of "Pell's Point!"? I studied that panel and still can't tell. I think he was stabbed with a bayonet or shot, but it's very hard to decipher. Such is the confusion of war as depicted by Harvey Kurtzman in each of this issue's stories. "Checkers!" gives a sense of the disorientation one must feel during tank fighting and "Saipan!" mirrors "Pell's Point!" in demonstrating how a single man's death may be overlooked in the chaos of battle. It was hard for me to read "Alamo!" because my ancestors died there and I don't want to see it from the enemy's point of view.

Jose: This is an issue from the war titles that manages to have very good art from all the contributors across the board. I even enjoyed John Severin’s solo effort this time out; “Alamo” is, in my opinion, head and shoulders above his past work without Will Elder at his side, and there are a number of panels that could almost pass for another of their collaborations. Both that tale and “Pell’s Point” are fairly strong entries from Professor Kurtzman’s War History class, but for me “Alamo” gets the edge because it has dynamic art throughout—art that doesn’t rely on those lame topographical map shots from “Pell’s Point”—and is much stronger and more complex on a narrative level as it tells of the infamous siege nested in the framework of a Spanish soldier on a firing squad executing the last five remaining Texans from the battle. “Saipan” could pass for another of the strange-but-true anecdotes from Bennett Cerf that Bill and Al liked (and appropriated) so much. If Kurtzman really did hear the story straight from the mouth of WWII vet, he struck the right note of urban folklore in this tale of high coincidence.

"Saipan!"

Wood

Weird Science #14

"There'll Be Some Changes Made!" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Wally Wood

"Inside Story!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Will Elder

"Strategy!" ★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Sid Check

"They Shall Inherit" ★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Joe Orlando

Sixty-two light years out from Earth, an intrepid space crew gets the literal jolt of their lives when their overdrive conks out, leaving them without feasible means of returning home. The only thing they can do is to search the nearest solar system for a life-sustaining planet to land on and make their repairs. This they find in the form of a vertiginous world that contains ample amounts of I-life (that’s “an intelligent form of life” to all you kids playing hooky out there), including a race of humanoids bearing a remarkable likeness to Earth’s race of Homo sapiens. The aliens retreat to weird, igloo-shaped structures at the advance of the astronauts, but once the Earthlings make nice with the natives by way of that ever-handy EC invention, the universal translator, all’s fun and feasting among the new set of friends. Things get decidedly friendlier when Commander Morrison sets his sights on gorgeous alien Luwana, and soon Morrison figures he’s head over heels, turning in his resignation to his second mate and vowing to stay on planet Gastropodia (wait for it) with his new mate. It isn’t long before Morrison starts to add up some odd facts about his new home, like how all of Gastropodia’s children are housed in an enclosed nursery and only brought into the city once they can leave their own igloo-huts behind. There’s also the matter of Luwana cutting her hair short and losing all her luscious curves. (Good Lord! *Choke*) With his romantic advances spurned for the last time and all the mental tumblers clicking into place, Morrison enters the secluded nursery and confirms his worst suspicions: the people of Gastropodia are snails! Well, they look like people, but they act like snails: the igloo-huts are actually their shells, and the changes that Luwana has been undergoing are signs of the mollusk’s hermaphroditic nature. That’s right; when Morrison returns home he finds hunky blonde Luwana in bed tsking her husband’s slowness in changing his gender.

Hubba-hubba-hubby. ("There'll Be Some Changes Made!")

Though they might have lacked in execution at times, EC surely made up for the deficit with a surfeit of new and completely strange ideas. “There’ll Be Some Changes Made!” features one such springboard with its race of sex-swapping aliens, but the lead-up is fairly mundane and completely identical to any number of the other “astronauts stranded on an alien planet” stories we’ve read. The disparate clues shaping this mystery make for a solid head-scratcher as the reader tries to decipher the strange rituals and “changes” alluded to in the text, minus Feldstein’s on-the-nose dubbing of the planet, yet for all that I couldn’t quite get invested in the proceedings, superior Wood art notwithstanding. Having said that, this story has a wild round-up of a climax, one that skates along the rim of the sticky sexual situations that EC was so fond of portraying in their SF books. How those last two panels escaped the wrath of Wertham and the Senate Subcommittee, we’ll never know.

Don't we all? ("Inside Story!")

There’s some high strangeness going on in the Big City: men are being found inexplicably dead. Not only that, but when examined by the coroner, the bodies are found to be missing internal organs, organs that have been harvested without any visible incision marking the skin! How could this be possible, and why are only notorious gangsters and racketeers being targeted by this unassailable murderer? Coupled with these bizarre crimes is a series of mind-blowing miracles: several key government figures—the Secretary of State, an atomic scientist, an army general—left for dead by modern medicine to each man’s respective illness recover seemingly overnight, their diseased organs now healthy and vital. No one manages to put two and two together, and the police only receive a gruesome stroke of luck when the coroner digs out a wallet from the body of the third victim! The owner of the wallet, one Smedley Throbbins, surgical engineer, is brought in for questioning, but the little old elf gives himself up right away, claiming that he has used a device of his own invention to slip in and out of the fourth dimension to swipe organs from the naughty and bestow them upon the nice for the betterment of mankind like a macabre Santa Claus. Needless to say, incarceration is impossible for Throbbins, as he amply demonstrates by disappearing from police headquarters.

Come on, kids! Time for your lECture! ("Inside Story!")

The gonzo workings of this humorous SF tale are given a sheen of Golden Age innocence by Will Elder’s cutesy illustrations. Despite the graphic nature of the story, there’s not a drop of blood to be seen, further adding to this one’s docile charms. Judging by this first solo effort, Elder sans Severin is a more palatable brew than Severin sans Elder; for all the art’s primitiveness, it remains easier on the eyes than the naked pencils from past Severin assignments. You might think for a moment that you’ve accidentally stumbled upon a strip from the Sunday funnies rather than a yarn from the house that the Crypt-Keeper built, but “Inside Story!” has an offbeat beat all its own.

Peter and Jack ready Jose to write his parts of the EC post. ("Strategy!")

The year is 2152, the place an idyllic wood where Andrew Hufflebein sits in isolated reverie far and away from the humming space cabs and gleaming towers that compose this bustling world of the future. His reverie is suddenly and rudely spoiled by the arrival of two chitinous aliens, aliens who waste no time in attacking Andrew and severing his brain from his body. Scuttling back to their ship hidden in the woods, the aliens gloat in triumph at the mental pictures from Hufflebein’s brain they are able to conjure with the help of their advanced technology. From what they can see, Earth’s military forces are shockingly puny and helpless, with crude weapons and impractical uniforms all adding up to a surefire defeat in the bulging eyes of the two invaders. Figuring that the planet’s defense system is so weakened that they can conquer the terra all on their lonesome, the aliens take off into space and fire a missile aimed at the capital of the world, Paris. Their preemptive attack is snuffed by the military who then promptly respond with a missile aimed at the alien ship. Meanwhile, back in the woods, two custodians  go out to bring Hufflebein back to the Briarwood Insane Asylum where he permanently resides as a delusional fanatic who fancies himself the real Napoleon Bonaparte.

You said it! ("Strategy!")

“Strategy!” certainly earns points for wryly turning the “Napoleon nutjob” trope on its (cracked) head by using it as the plot device that drives our alien villains to believe they’re more than a match for the planet, but one has to seriously wonder why aliens who have technology advanced enough to peer into a man’s brain and scan through his thoughts like a slideshow wouldn’t be able to, you know, infiltrate Earth’s military system to see for themselves just what kind of firepower we were packing. It’s like seeing Superman punch his way out of a bank vault and then strain to open a jar of mayonnaise. The twist is almost clever enough to allow us to avoid that rather large oversight, and Sid Check’s bland, mucky artwork does everything it can to sink our opinion even lower (his grubby insectile aliens are pretty cool), but “Strategy!” manages to walk away from the rubble as a quirky little tale.

That cat has seen some serious crap. ("They Shall Inherit")

Everyone stationed at the base for the Savannah River Project breathes a sigh of relief when the radiation spill from the atomic pile is quickly and efficiently contained. None are more relieved than Dr. Heston and Professor Krinsky, two lab coats working diligently on mastering a new time-traveling device of their own making at the behest of one Colonel Abel. Abel has his own worries outside of this pet project, namely the mounting nuisance of large, feral rats breaking into the base and wreaking general havoc. Poisoning by the contamination squad eventually proves fruitless, and simply tracking down the beasts becomes progressively more difficult as the crafty little devils seem to be two steps ahead of their would-be assassins. Meanwhile, Heston and Krinsky have started placing lab cats in their chronological transmitter, but their attempts to send the kitties into the future by increments of millennia results first in the cats' returning in states of heightened fear and frenzy and then later slashed to ribbons. A simultaneous discovery by the Colonel’s crack team reveals the inevitable truth: the rats are consciously outwitting their hunters and even using tools to make their escape. Back at the lab, Heston and Krinsky behold the latest slaughtered cat returned from the future and the figure who speaks to them from its corpse: an ambulatory, talking rat in full military regalia who chastises the “savage-brained” humans for teleporting his people’s mortal but long-extinct enemy to his time.

General Ratton takes command. ("They Shall Inherit")

“They Shall Inherit” isn’t quite the rip-snorting farce that Joe Orlando has penned for the last few issues of the SF books. It saves the trippiest image for the very end, as well as those trademark gaping-mawed faces, but for the most part Feldstein’s script, whether intentionally or not, acts as a nicely rendered mounting of suspense that pits two tangentially-related storylines against each other to highlight the cryptic clues and discoveries that crop up in each of them. Thankfully, there isn’t any time wasted on a drawn-out explanation for the rats’ advanced progression along the evolutionary scale either; the brief mention we receive of the “contained” radiation leak is enough for us to understand that the vermin have become contaminated and have now mutated into super-rats. Science! --Jose

Peter, seen here feeling the sudden loss of no Jack Kamen stories in this issue. ("Inside Story!")

Peter: Al continues to fiddle with what's acceptable in a 1950s funny book; first, he showed us a pregnant man (to think!), then a men's room (shudder!), and now, a transsexual (GASP!). The big question, of course, is: will Arnold, who loved Luwanna so much he shunned his job and his planet, stand by his man even after the ultimate change? "Inside Story!" is one of those Feldstein stories (like  "Mad Journey!" in WF #14) that's so jam-packed with scientific theories and intellectual gobbledygook that my brain was misfiring by the third page ("I don't care what anyone says! You can't cut out a man's heart and still leave his flesh intact!"). Will Elder and John Severin made a dynamite team but Will was not so spectacular when he went the solo route (at least not yet). Sid Check still sticks out like a sore thumb (here he's trying his darndest to be Wally but failing miserably) but the story's a keeper, capped with a clever twist. Speaking of clever twists, the one waiting for us at the climax of "They Shall Inherit" is laugh out loud hilarious. That Atomic Energy Commission sure gets around (they destroyed part or all of the Earth in WF #14); devious devils those guys. Joe Orlando does a good enough job with the visuals but this was, obviously, aching for the Wood. (Nice phrasing, Pete! -Jose) So, with the exception of the dreary "Inside Story!," this was a stellar issue of WS!

Jack, pictured here responding to Jose's request for a check. ("They Shall Inherit")

Jack: It's all relative, isn't it--the science fiction books seem to be the biggest letdowns every other month, so when one is better than usual it stands out. I laughed at Al's goofy captions in "There'll Be Some Changes Made!," where he feels to need to define "I-Life" and "Humanoids" for the reader. The story is funny and surprising and thank goodness they picked Wally Wood to draw a yarn where all of the women on the planet are beautiful! I enjoy Will Elder's art more than you do and, while I love his work with Severin, I think Elder solo is better than Severin solo. "Strategy!" seems overly long but Check turns in another nice job on the artwork and the twist is funny. "They Shall Inherit" is just bizarre, but once again Joe Orlando's art is a real hoot.

Next Week: The curtain closes on The War That Time Forgot! Join us as we get sorta emotional.

by Jack Seabrook

The fourth episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour to be credited to James Bridges is "Dear Uncle George," which first aired on CBS on Friday, May 10, 1963. A delightful hour, the teleplay is credited to William Link, Richard Levinson and James Bridges, with Link and Levinson getting an additional credit for the story. A thorough search has failed to turn up any published story that would have served as the source material for this episode, so I suspect that it was a treatment by Link and Levinson. Perhaps they then wrote a teleplay and Bridges was brought in to do some revisions.

Richard Levinson (1934-1987) and William Link (1933- ) were one of the great writing teams in television mystery series. They met in school in 1946 and went on to a long and fruitful collaboration on radio scripts, plays, teleplays and two movies. The team was active in TV from 1959 until Levinson's untimely death in 1987 and together they created Mannix (1967-1975), Columbo (1971-2000), Ellery Queen (1975-1976), and Murder, She Wrote (1984-1996). They also had a number of short stories published between 1954 and 1966 and won four Edgar Awards during their career as partners. After Levinson died, Link continued to write and his short stories have been appearing on and off since 1996. He was president of the MWA in 2002 and has a website here.

Gene Barry as John Chambers

There has been some speculation among writers online that the character of Lt. Wolfson in "Dear Uncle George" was a prototype for Lt. Columbo, but I do not think this is true. Wolfson does wear a rumpled raincoat, but that is where the resemblance ends. Link and Levinson created Columbo in their short story, "Dear Corpus Delecti," which was published in the March 1960 issue of Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine. They then adapted the story for TV on The Chevy Mystery Show under the title "Enough Rope," and the episode aired on July 31, 1960, with Bert Freed as Columbo. The detective next appeared in Prescription: Murder, a play by Link and Levinson that opened in San Francisco in January 1962 and featured Thomas Mitchell as the lieutenant. This play was adapted for television by the team six years later under the same title, and Peter Falk finally took over the role. A TV series followed in 1971 and lasted, on and off, until 2003.

Another coincidence is that Gene Barry (1919-2009), who plays the killer in "Dear Uncle George," also plays the murderer in "Prescription: Murder." However, the characters and their stories are quite different.

Alicia Li as Bea

The scene is set in the first shot of "Dear Uncle George" as the camera lingers on a sign that reads, "New York Examiner Publishing Company." The camera then travels up to a high floor in a skyscraper, where John Chambers (Barry) listens as his secretary, Bea (Alicia Li), reads letters to him. As he dictates responses, he cuts out paper dolls, demonstrating the character's boredom with his job as "Uncle George," a newspaper advice columnist. His answers are facile and his mood jaded; he asks Bea if there are "Any more cries of pain for this human wailing wall?" The second letter Bea reads is from a busybody, who signs her name as "Good Samaritan" but who has been watching the woman in the apartment across the court from hers. This woman is having an affair and Good Samaritan asks Uncle George if she should tell the woman's husband.

John steadies Cupid

This letter will turn out to be much more than a standard missive to Uncle George, since Chambers will soon learn that the unfaithful spouse is his own. He telephones his wife Louise to say he will be working late at the office; unbeknownst to John, Louise is entertaining a male visitor, whose identity is hidden from the viewer. Back at the office, Bea remarks that Good Samaritan happens to live in the same apartment building as the Chambers. Later that night, John arrives home to an empty apartment. Louise shows up minutes later and rebuffs his attempt at a romantic advance, claiming to be tired. She has misplaced a comb and nearly knocks over a statue of Cupid on her makeup table, a statue that John keeps from falling. I think that this could be a James Bridges touch, drawing the viewer's attention to what will later become the murder weapon and also using it as a metaphor: like the statue of Cupid, the couple's marriage is shaky and the husband is trying to keep it from shattering.

Louise closes the drapes in the living room and complains that the old woman across the court has been spying on her neighbors. At the office, John had referred to Good Samaritan as a witch; now, Louise comments that she would not be surprised if the old woman turned up at the door with a poisoned apple. Both husband and wife use witch imagery to describe their neighbor and, like a witch in a fairy tale, the old woman's letter will lead to the destruction of their marriage and to Louise's death.

Patricia Donahue as Louise Chambers

George begins to put two and two together and suspects that the letter from Good Samaritan was referring to his own wife. Working late at the office another night, he telephones Louise to tell her he will be delayed. Bea comments that working late every night may cause her to lose her husband--as Uncle George, Chambers gives advice to his readers but plays havoc with the lives of those around him. Slipping out a side door of his office, Chambers goes home early and finds an open bottle of champagne and two glasses. Louise hears someone come in and emerges from the bedroom expectantly, dressed in a gold lame pantsuit, but is surprised and disappointed to see that the man who entered the apartment was her husband rather than her lover. John confronts her in the bedroom and she angrily confesses her affair. He picks up the heavy statue of Cupid and bashes her over the head with it, killing both her and their love. He wipes his prints off of the statute and closes the blinds, not wanting his act of violence to be witnessed by the Good Samaritan across the way; fortunately, her blinds are also closed.

Dabney Coleman as Tom Esterow

John is able to slip back into his office unseen. After summoning Bea as an unwary witness, he pretends to telephone Louise and acts like she is in trouble on the other end of the line. He must rush to her aid and asks Bea to call the police while he heads home, seemingly for the first time that evening. When he arrives at the apartment, the police are already there, and Lt. Wolfson tells John that Louise was murdered. John sees an unfamiliar coat on a chair and asks if anyone else was there when the police arrived, so Wolfson brings out Tom Esterow (Dabney Coleman), a former colleague of John's who discovered the body. Claiming that Louise asked him to paint her portrait, Esterow elicits a bemused comment from Wolfson, who asks: "You 're not one of those abstract painters, are you?"

Esterow admits that he picked up the Cupid statue when he found the body and so his fingerprints are on the murder weapon. A key to the apartment is found in his coat pocket and he is accused of murder and taken to the police station. Wolfson suspects that the murder was a crime of passion and asks Chambers if his wife had been involved with another man, but John denies it.

John Larkin as Simon Aldritch

After the funeral, John returns to the office but his publisher, Simon Aldritch (John Larkin) thinks that it is too soon and suggests that Chambers take a vacation. Before John can accompany Simon to his country home, he pays a visit to Esterow, who is in prison, accusing the man of murder and telling him that "I hope you're convicted." We next learn a bit more about Lt. Wolfson when he is visited by Sgt. Duncan, a younger policeman whom he is training. Wolfson is retiring in ten days and tells Duncan, "You'll learn after a while, no matter how instinctively you feel about the case, you're bound to the evidence."

Chambers has a big surprise in store for him when he visits Aldritch's country home: left alone in the steam room, he finds Louise's missing comb and realizes that Aldritch, and not Esterow, was her secret lover. Simon admits to the affair and John accuses him of murder. Chambers goes back to the jail and apologizes to Esterow, suggesting that the Good Samaritan who watched his apartment might be able to identify Aldritch as his wife's lover and, by extension, her killer. John next visits Wolfson and explains his plan and his suspicions. When the Lieutenant is not persuaded by Chambers's story, John takes matters into his own hands and locates his missing neighbor, the Good Samaritan, who has been visiting her sister upstate. Back in his office, John is fired by Simon for going to the police, but a telephone call from Lt. Wolfson results in both men heading for the police station.

Lou Jacobi as Lt. Wolfson

The last scene of "Dear Uncle George" is like Ellery Queen's gathering of the suspects, except this time the get-together is driven by the murderer himself, in a clever attempt to deflect suspicion onto his rival in love. Lt. Wolfson, Tom Esterow, John Chambers, and Simon Aldritch are together when Sgt. Duncan brings in a chatty old woman named Mrs. Weatherby, the Good Samaritan herself, who puts on her glasses and identifies John as her neighbor across the court. Gossipy as ever, she remarks that Louise's murder was predictable in light of her behavior. She identifies Simon as Louise's lover and, when he admits the affair but denies the murder, it seems like Chambers has succeeded and the story is over. But Mrs. Weatherby has a bit more to say on her way out of the office and director Joseph Newman presents a series of Sergio Leone-like tight close-ups of each character as Mrs. Weatherby mentions that she wrote a letter to Uncle George about the affair.

Earlier, Simon had told Lt. Wolfson that Chambers was Uncle George, asking the policeman to keep it quiet in order to avoid a scandal that could hurt the newspaper's circulation. Suddenly, as Mrs. Weatherby talks, everyone in the room realizes exactly what happened, that John had been alerted of his wife's infidelity and had murdered her. Mrs. Weatherby, the Good Samaritan, has the last word, addressed to John Chambers: "I'm sure that if you knew what was going on you'd have done something about it."

Charity Grace as Mrs. Weatherby

William Link, Richard Levinson and James Bridges wrote a great script in "Dear Uncle George," Joseph Newman does a creative job with the direction, and all of the cast members give excellent performances, resulting an a highly entertaining hour of television. Many small touches enhance the show's enjoyment while the plot is tight and takes unpredictable twists and turns.

Early in the show, we meet Bea, John's secretary, who is played by Asian-American actress Alicia Li. Surprisingly, for a 1963 television program, Bea is not a stereotypical Asian; instead, the character could be played by an actress of any heritage. Asian-American roles on TV were few and far between before the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 and those that were seen often portrayed Asians in traditional roles.

Chambers returns home in shadow

The show's lighting is also notable, especially in the two scenes where Chambers returns home to his apartment from work. He enters in shadow, suggesting that he is walking into an unfamiliar place, even though it is his home. The chemistry between John and Louise (Patricia Donahue) is impressive, and their banter, which quickly turns vicious, is that of a couple who have been together for a long time. Perhaps best of all is Lou Jacobi as Lt. Wolfson, who plays the part as if he finds everything about this murder investigation to be highly amusing. In a later scene, when he tells Sgt. Duncan that John Chambers and Uncle George are one and the same, Wolfson telephones his wife and hands the phone to Duncan, telling the sergeant to ask Mrs. Wolfson to tell him about Uncle George. Wolfson is a man who enjoys his job and, rather than provide the information himself, he plays with the idea of who is the audience for newspaper advice columns by having his wife explain things to the younger policeman. Best of all is a scene late in the show when Chambers goes to Wolfson with his suspicions. The lieutenant seems barely to be listening to Chambers; he offers the man a cup of tea and then stands absently swinging a teabag around in circles while his visitor talks.

Chambers and Esterow are doubled

As Chambers, Barry is utterly convincing. A frustrated novelist who has been working on his book for six years, he finds himself stripped of his dignity both at work, where he is an advice columnist so bored that he cuts out paper dolls, and at home, where his wife is cheating on him. When he bludgeons her with a statue of the god of love, he is asserting his manhood, and the rest of the show traces his attempts to shift the blame onto the men whom he thinks were his rivals. John is always hiding behind a mask: as Uncle George, as the grieving widower, and as the innocent man. When he first visits Esterow in prison, there is an impressive shot that shows John's face reflected in glass right next to Esterow's face--the men are doubled, former colleagues now integral parts of a murder investigation, one guilty and not suspected, the other innocent and under suspicion.

The only false note in the show--and it is a small one--occurs when Sam, presumably the superintendent of the apartment building where Chambers lives, has a scene with Chambers. Sam is portrayed as a stereotypical Irishman who can be bought with a drink of alcohol, a portrayal of an immigrant quite different than the enlightened portrayal of Bea by Alicia Li.

Even Mrs. Weatherby (Charity Grace) is fun to watch, as she must put her glasses on each time she has to look at someone to make an identification. The fact that her need to gossip leads her to make a comment that seals John's doom provides a perfect ending to the show, since it was her letter to Uncle George that led to the murder of Louise Chambers in the first place.

Unlike Lt. Columbo, who always seems to know who the murderer is and to hound them until they make a mistake, Lt. Wolfson does not seem to intuit the identity of the guilty party. Instead, as he says, he follows the evidence and likely is as surprised as anyone else to discover the truth.

Joseph Newman (1909-2006), who directed "Dear Uncle George," started out as an assistant director in the Golden Age of Hollywood, from 1933 to 1942, before becoming a director of short subjects (1938 to 1947) and finally of features, starting in 1942. His most memorable film is probably This Island Earth (1955), a science fiction classic. He worked in television from 1960 to 1965 and directed ten episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, including "The Second Wife"; "Dear Uncle George" was his first. Newman also directed four episodes of The Twilight Zone.

Gene Barry as Bat Masterson

Gene Barry is the star of the show, and he had a long career on screen as a leading man. Born Eugene Klass, he started out on stage in 1940 before appearing on TV and in the movies from 1950 to 2005. His most memorable film, The War of the Worlds (1955), came early in his career; he then had a recurring role on the TV series Our Miss Brooks (1955-1956) before starring in four series over fifteen years: Bat Masterson (1958-1961), Burke's Law (1963-1966 and 1994-1995), The Name of the Game (1968-1971) and The Adventurer (1972-1973). Barry appeared on the Hitchcock series three times and there is an informative website devoted to his career here.

Second billing goes to John Larkin (1912-1965), who was a busy actor on Old Time Radio from the 1930s to the 1950s, playing Perry Mason over the air. He began working in TV in 1954 and appeared in various shows for the next decade but never made much of a splash. He was on The Alfred Hitchcock Hour twice.

Patricia Donahue in "A Stop at Willoughby"

The unfaithful wife, Louise Chambers, is well played by Patricia Donahue (1925-2012), whose career on screen was mostly spent on TV from 1956 to 1984. Born Patricia Mahar, she was on the Hitchcock show twice and on Night Gallery twice, but her most memorable role was as the nasty wife on the classic Twilight Zone episode, "A Stop at Willoughby."

Dabney Coleman (1932- ) is convincing as the unjustly accused painter, Tom Esterow. Coleman has been a fixture on TV and in the movies since 1961 and appeared on The Alfred Hitchcock Hour in "Dear Uncle George" and "Isabel." He was on The Outer Limits three times and later appeared on various TV series, including Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman (1976-1977) and in the film, 9 to 5 (1980).

Lt. Wolfson is played by Lou Jacobi (1913-2009), who was born Louis Jacobovitch in Toronto. He began acting on stage in 1924 and spent decades treading the boards before his first appearance on screen in 1953. He was on The Alfred Hitchcock Hour twice.

In smaller roles, Alicia Li and Charity Grace both shine. Li (1924-2008) was born in Philadelphia and had a brief career on screen between 1961 and 1965 with six TV credits and three movies. Unlike her role as Bea, some of her other roles included "Chinese girl" and "Third native girl." Grace (1884-1965) was on the Hitchcock show five times and had small but memorable roles in "Party Line" and "Final Vow."

Unfortunately, like the rest of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, "Dear Uncle George" has not been released on DVD and is currently unavailable for viewing online. Hopefully, Universal will rectify this soon, because this episode is well worth seeking out.

Thanks to Peter Enfantino for checking all of the Link and Levinson stories in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine and Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine through 1963 to confirm that none of them was the source for "Dear Uncle George"!

Sources:

In two weeks: "Run for Doom," starring John Gavin and Diana Dors!

The DC War Comics 1959-1976 by Corporals Enfantino and Seabrook

Kubert

 Our Army at War 189

"The Mission Was Murder!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert and Jack Abel

"Tag for a Tail-Gunner!"
Story by France Herron
Art by Arthur Peddy
(Reprinted from Our Fighting Forces #1, October-November 1954)

"You Can't Bust a Sergeant!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Sparling

Jack: When Rock and five key members of Easy Co. are dropped off by a submarine and paddle an inflatable raft ashore to meet French underground fighters known as Unit 3, they don't expect to be met by a half-dozen teenage boys with rifles. The lads' fathers were killed by Nazis so they take responsibility for leading Rock and his men to a radar station that needs to be blown up. A German patrol attacks and, while Easy Co. prevails with fisticuffs, they find themselves targeted by more Nazis with guns.

Too much Abel, not enough Kubert

Just then, the boys of Unit 3 emerge from the woods and shoot all of the enemy soldiers where they stand before leading Rock and Co. through the woods toward the radar station. They happen upon a Nazi truck filled with villagers being drafted for slave labor camps, so Rock and Co. make short work of the Nazis and save the civilians. After defeating a tankful of the enemy, Rock, Easy Co., and the boys of Unit 3 reach the radar station and attack. Another battle to the death ensues and Rock comes out on top before bidding adieu to the young men and heading back to the submarine.

I hope we've reached the bottom of the barrel with the Sgt. Rock series, because "The Mission Was Murder!" is not a good story. Kanigher's attempt to appeal to young readers is transparent and the Kubert/Abel art looks much more like Abel than Kubert, except in the occasional close-up of a soldier's face. A house ad in this issue tells us that Enemy Ace is coming back, so perhaps Kubert's time in the syndicated comic world is coming to an end and he can return to his DC War Comics work full time. Sgt. Rock without Kubert just isn't the same, even when it's drawn by Russ Heath.

Peter: I've got some good news and I've got some bad news for ya, Jack. You want the good first? Joe Kubert will indeed be stepping away from the "Green Beret" syndicated strip and will be taking over editor's reins from Bob Kanigher very soon (more on that in four weeks). Bad news? The Unit 3 stories have just begun. There will be at least three more adventures with the pint-sized G.I.s coming in the next few months. As for this initial offering in the Unit 3 saga, I'd have to say it's another case of "Wash. Rinse. Repeat." The diapered rebels of Unit 3 make our veteran heroes look like buffoons over and over again. And, Jack, you are spot on with your condemnation of the art, which looks like 90% Abel and 10% Joe.

Jack: Sgt. Joe Flannigan, an experienced tail gunner, is disappointed when the rest of his crew is sent home and he has to fly one more mission. It gets worse when he learns that he has been assigned to share a bomber plane with a brand new crew as a "Tag for a Tail Gunner!" Once they are in the air and battling Nazis, however, the green crew shows that they have plenty of heart and helps to save the day. Joe is so impressed that he refuses to go home and says he has more bombing to do with his new pals.

"Tag for a Tail Gunner!"

Kanigher reaches all the way back to the first issue of Our Fighting Forces from 1954 for this entertaining little tale of air action. Veteran comic writer Herron provides an exciting script and DC stalwart Peddy chimes in with solid visuals.

Peter: It's a simple script but I loved Peddy's visuals, much better than that of Kubert/Abel and Sparling. Peddy contributed to 52 stories in the DC war titles between 1952 and 1957. He also did work for other publishers (including Combat!, Marvel's entry in the newsstand blitz of war titles in the early 1950s) before turning to a career in advertising.

Jack Sparling--ugly but energetic

Jack: Sgt. Grady seems to care about his men and they respect him right back, so a new lieutenant busts him down to private for showing too much compassion. Grady then proceeds to lead the lieutenant on a battle by battle fight through the woods, causing the lieutenant to promote him step by step until he's back to being a sergeant. The lieutenant admits in the end that "You Can't Bust a Sergeant!" Howard Liss's script is exciting and features a good message and veteran Sparling's art, while it can be ugly at times, has a dynamic feeling to it and propels the story forward. This is a rare issue of Our Army at War where the backup stories are better than the lead.

Peter: I absolutely hated this story, script and art. It's so muddled and confusing (I thought the lost G.I.s were the band of Nazi scum who attack Grady's Guerrillas in the forest until I went back and re-read it) and just seems to go on forever but never tells us an interesting story. Grady is indestructible and manages to get the best of the entire lunk-headed German army.

Heath

 G.I. Combat 128

"The Ghost of the Haunted Tank!"
(Reprinted from G.I. Combat #95, September 1962)

"The Haunted Tank vs. Killer Tank!"
(Reprinted from G.I. Combat #94, July 1962)

Peter: An all-reprint issue for only twelve cents? What a bargain! And in the same month we get an all-reprint issue of Our Army at War! We're in heaven!

Jack: A full issue of Russ Heath is nothing to sneeze at, even if it's all reprints. Besides, the house ads are great!

Kubert

 Our Army at War 190

"What Makes a Sergeant Run?"
(Reprinted from Our Army at War #97, August 1960)

"Tank Raiders"
(Reprinted from G.I. Combat #90, November 1961)

"Death Dive!"
(Reprinted from All-American Men of War #84, April 1961)

"Jumping Jeep!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Joe Kubert
(Reprinted from All-American Men of War #38, October 1956)

"Trail of the Terror Rockets!"
(Reprinted from Star Spangled War Stories #89, March 1960)

"Underwater Gunner!"
(Reprinted from Our Fighting Forces #51, November 1959)

"Foxhole Pilot!"
Story by Robert Kanigher
Art by Irv Novick
(Reprinted from G.I. Combat #50, July 1957)

Jack: Ever since he was a kid, Andy Jones hated to get his feet wet. Now he's all grown up and in the Marines, where he keeps having to trudge through water! Even when crossing a river, his conveyance turns into a "Jumping Jeep!" when it hits a mine and dumps him in the drink. A quick little filler from 1957, this features some pre-Sgt. Rock war comics art by Kubert.

"Jumping Jeep!"

Peter: It's startling to see how different Kubert's art was from decade to decade; he definitely improved from the sketchy and rough penciling he displayed in "Jumping Jeep!" to the stylized and exciting work he would do for Enemy Ace and Sgt. Rock ten years later.

"Foxhole Pilot!"

Jack: Pressured by his fellow pilots to bring back a souvenir for the wall in the rec hall, Nick flies one mission and then another, finally landing on the ground and becoming a "Foxhole Pilot." His third mission ends with a Nazi plane crashing through the rec hall roof, providing an unexpectedly large souvenir to add to the collection. The most interesting thing about this 1957 flying story is how smooth Novick's art looks--not very much like the rut he would fall into later on.

Peter: What we get with "Foxhole Pilot" is seven-and-a-half pages of silly build-up and relentless (and totally unbelievable) prattle about bringing souvenirs back to the rec room (never mind survival) but that final panel makes it all worth it. A huge smile replaced the yawn. What's most interesting in the "Readers--Sound Off!" column reprinted below is that Bob is staying mum on the return of Enemy Ace to Star-Spangled War Stories. That's odd as you'd think he'd want to get the word out there ASAP and the story appeared only two months later. Surely, the return was planned well in advance.

Jack: I love DC's 80-page giants! This issue has a superb Kubert cover and features reprints of stories with Sgt. Rock, the Haunted Tank, Johnny Cloud, Mlle. Marie, and Gunner and Sarge. All of the stories are written by Kanigher and three are drawn by Kubert, with another by Heath and another by Drucker. The table of contents page is cool but erroneously attributes the Gunner and Sarge story to Grandenetti, when it's really drawn (and signed) by Kubert.

An error in art credit

An interesting exchange between a reader and the editor

Novick

 Our Fighting Forces 111

"Train of Terror!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Abel

"No Movies in a Foxhole!"
Story by Howard Liss
Art by Jack Sparling

Peter: Hunter's Hellcats are assigned an almost impossible task: to rescue French Freedom-Fighting Frau Mademoiselle Toni Devereux (a/k/a Alouette), who is being held by the Krauts on a "Train of Terror!" Hunter has history with both the lovely Toni and the Nazi scumbag who's holding her prisoner, college Hitler-rally youth Karl Brenner, now a highly-ranked German officer. The reunion goes about how the trio figured it would when Hunter's miscreants manage to take control of the train and dodge several deadly obstacles on their way to delivering Toni to her comrades.

Any "Hunter" entry automatically has two strikes against it because of its ludicrous nature (in one scene, the Hellcats survive a jump from a speeding train into a river far below and come up fists a' blazin' with nary a scratch) and the awful dialogue Big Bob fills his word balloons with. Fortunately, Big Bob took the issue off and laid the burden on another writer. While not always avoiding the bad-lingo land mines ("That's flippin' the ol' pineapples, juggler-boy!"), at least Howard invests some excitement in the script and creates a story that would be a worthy (low-budget) follow-up to The Dirty Dozen. Yes, I know, it's quite a stretch that Toni, Hunter, and Karl are all reunited in one spot during a really big war but I'll excuse that old plot device just this once. If he tries it again, though . . .

Jack: The snapshot of Toni Devereux that is shown to Lt. Hunter gives her huge eyes that make her look like a Disney princess. I always enjoy action on a speeding train, but this story is by the numbers predictable and features mediocre art by Jack Abel that (unfortunately) recalls the work of Jerry Grandenetti in spots, especially the overused technique of drawing shadows around soldiers' eyes that makes it look like they're wearing domino masks. It's an anti-climax when the two college rivals finally meet on the battlefield, as the fight lasts only one panel.

Peter: Corporal Hatton receives a special gift from his wife in the mail: home movies of his new-born son. Unfortunately, Hatton's wife thought her husband would be safe in an office somewhere, with access to a projector but, alas, the G.I. is out on the front and everyone knows there are "No Movies in a Foxhole!" Hatton's mission is simultaneously to kill as many Krauts as he can and find himself a movie projector. He manages to find the Holy Grail at a farmhouse held by Nazis but getting it through enemy fire becomes an arduous and, yes, tedious affair. The lens is broken but Hatton is set on finding a replacement. After the G.I. is wounded while saving a group of British soldiers, one of the  Brits offers up his monocle as a lens for the projector and the entire squad is entertained by Hatton's bundle of joy. Not an awful story (although Hatton's repeated mantra joins all the other boring catch phrases we've had to endure through this journey) and Jack Sparling's art is actually well put-together in spots (his final panel has a Frazetta-esque vibe to it). Love how the Brits get the same stereotypical treatment the Asians do in these DC war stories. Bad teeth and "blimeys." All that's missing is the Captain who demands tea on the battlefield.

Jack Sparling does Frazetta

Jack: The premise of a soldier trying to hold on to a movie projector on a battlefield is ridiculous. Sparling draws some very acrobatic poses that verge on the impossible in the midst of all the ugly faces. I guess Sparling will be a regular contributor to the DC War books now. I'm not sure that's a good thing.

Craig

Crime SuspenStories #12

"The Execution!" ★★
Story and Art by Johnny Craig

"Murder the Lover!"★★ 1/2
"Murder the Husband!"★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

"Snooze to Me!" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Paralyzed!" ★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels

"The Execution!"

It's the last day on Earth for Inmate No. 82562, and we witness each little torture he must face: the shave, the last meal, the last visit with his wife. It would be tough for a guilty man, but Inmate No. 82562 is innocent of the murder he was convicted of. He was helping a stranger get his car out of a ditch in the snow when the young lady was murdered. If only the stranger would come forward and put truth to the accused's alibi. But no man comes forward and, at 7 PM sharp, Inmate No. 82562 is executed. After the deed is done, the warden checks on one of his men, a guard who doesn't like to watch "The Execution!," a man who's been on vacation for a bit of time, the man who got his car stuck in the snow and now wishes there was something he could have done to help the accused. Usually, these stories deliver an emotional wallop but "The Execution!" has too many problems with its climax to be satisfying. It's tough to get into detail in a tale that only numbers eight pages, I get that, but Johnny's script has holes you could drive a 1950s Oldsmobile through. Inmate No. 82562 (whose name is never given--Check that again, compadre. The prison sawbones states it on Page 8: Peter T. Wright. An easy name to forget, eh? -Jose) must be the victim of one of the most circumstantial cases in the history of law as all we see are police pulling him over and arresting him for murder (not even asking him to go in for questioning first!) and a case dependent on the man's "height, weight (?!), build, clothing, and auto." And Alvis, the queasy guard/man in the snow, is said to have been in a place where he "didn't have much of a chance to read about this case in the papers." Where was he and how long was he gone for? Was this one of those two-week trial and executions? Something smells funny here.

"The Execution!"

Dear God... Bullwinkle! ("Murder the Lover!")

Kenneth Martin comes home early from a business trip to find his wife, Jeanne, in the arms of his best friend, Walter Graham. Fuming with hate, Ken devises a plan to "Murder the Lover!": he'll invite Walter up to the cabin for a little moose-hunting and shoot him "accidentally." The boys get on their gear and head out into the forest, with Walter none the wiser to his impending doom. Ken's first shot goes wide but the second is true and Walter is blown to pieces before Ken's delighted eyes. Unfortunately, Ken's first shot has wounded a moose and the enraged animal charges him. In the second part of our double-header, it's Walter who devises a scheme to "Murder the Husband!," knowing his friend would never grant Jeanne a divorce. Kenneth's moose-hunting trip is the perfect time for dispatching the pesky hubby. Walter's idea is to row Ken out to the middle of a lake located near the cabin (rumored to be bottomless), shoot him and dump his body in the water. All goes as planned but Walter's first shot doesn't do the trick so he empties the gun into his friend. Unfortunately, the bullets pierce the bottom of the boat and it begins to sink. Not one of the sharpest tools in the shed, Walter hadn't planned for this calamity and he can't swim! The first of this pair of "E.C. Quickies" begins with the time-tested discovery and wends its way into the (also time-tested) revenge plan but, thankfully, ends on a surprising note. Both protagonists are pretty thick in the head, though, aren't they? If you were sleeping with another man's wife, would you accept his invitation to a hunting expedition even if you were pretty sure the guy wasn't on to you? Walter proves to be thick even when he's on the delivery end of a gun as well. What moron would plot a murder on the water when he can't swim? Davis is wasted here on a whole lot of panels of two guys talking.

From cat nap to dirt nap. ("Snooze to Me!")

Nancy discovers that her husband, Herbert, is having an affair and confronts him with the accusation. At first, the man denies any wrongdoing but, as Nancy piles up the evidence, eventually he comes clean. The two have a loud argument and their maid, Edith, enters the room, wondering if she can be of service. The young beauty is just in time to witness Nancy tell Herbert that she'll never grant him a divorce and Herbert storms out of the house, promising that his lawyer will be in touch. Nancy has a change of heart and enlists Edith in a plan to win Herbert back: she'll swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills and Edith will call the ambulance. The suicide attempt will surely convince Herbert that Nancy loves him and can't live without him. Nancy scrawls out a suicide note and proceeds to take her medicine, telling Edith to call the ambulance and then call Herbert. Becoming drowsy, Nancy asks Edith if the ambulance is on the way and the maid announces that she hasn't called. Herbert emerges from the shadows and explains to his wife that the other woman is Edith; he thanks Nancy for being so cooperative. "Snooze to Me!" isn't so much a bad story, it's just not very novel. It might have been a little less obvious if Edith were not a patented "Kamen Blonde" with big black eyes and a perfect set of headlights, but then I guess if she were, instead, a variation on Shirley Booth (Google her, youngsters), the plot device wouldn't work very well, would it?

Getting a leg up on murder. ("Paralyzed!")

To their neighbors, Gladys and Ernest Newton are a couple of lovebirds but, behind closed doors, the truth is that they are a pair of alley cats, sniping and clawing at each other for any little slight. One night after leaving a friend's home, the couple are driving along a mountain road when Ernest declares he's had enough and wants a divorce. Gladys refuses, telling her husband she won't suffer through the scandal and the peering eyes of her friends. The conversation is cut short for the moment when their car skids across the highway and hits a billboard. Ernest walks away from the crash but Gladys is "Paralyzed!" Now compelled to stay by his wife's side, Ernest grudgingly puts divorce out of his mind and caters to his wife's every need but a man can only take so much and the four walls begin to close in; Ernie begins to spend more time out on the town. One night, returning early from a movie, Ernest catches his wife out of her wheelchair and the inevitable confession is made: Gladys faked her own paralysis (damn those worthless surgeons!) to keep Ernest in wedlock! When the shocked man renews his vow to exit . . . stage left, Gladys produces the gun Ernest had given her for protection and blows him away. She buries the corpse in the basement and fabricates a story of Ernest never returning from the movies that night. She tells her closest friend that she has lit a candle in the window for her departed love but that candle turns out to be her downfall when it ignites her bedroom curtains. Scrambling to escape, Gladys trips over her wheelchair and breaks her spine as "the flames drew closer and closer . . ." Not a bad little yarn, spiced by the page-four reveal. Ernest is not the standard EC "bad hubby," in that he doesn't turn to stray women to pass the time nor plot ways to kill his invalid wife; no, he's just a husband caught in a really bad relationship. Ghastly's art is, at turns, glorious and . . . ghastly. Gladys, in particular, seems to undergo several changes from panel to panel, from svelte (pg. 4, pnl. 4, above) to stocky (pg. 5, pnl. 7, below) and back to svelte again (pg. 6, pnl. 4). All in all, a mediocre issue of CSS. --Peter

Something to keep in mind the next time you tell your neighbors to turn down the music. ("Paralyzed!")

Jack: You and I are at opposite ends of the spectrum in our assessments of Johnny Craig's great story, "The Execution!" With great art and a suspenseful premise that recalls the work of Cornell Woolrich, the tale is a race against the clock with beautifully cinematic panel progressions and an expressionistic single panel that summarizes the verdict. The twist is a success if surprisingly downbeat. The two EC Quickies feature nice twist endings and surprisingly graphic panels of the killings; both rivals die in each story but I prefer Johnny Craig's cover rendition of a scene from the stories over Davis's work. The Kamen story thankfully is chock full of his gorgeous gals but the ending is telegraphed a mile away. Ingels's art is forced out in "Paralyzed!" by way too many words, as sometimes happens. The Old Witch is the most interesting thing about it. The wife faking paralysis parallels a similar plot development in The Man With the Golden Arm, though it may only be in the 1955 film and not the novel, which I haven't read yet. The story is thin and the concluding explanation weak, but I did enjoy the panel where Gladys dances with delight on Ernest's grave.

This should fix that leak! ("Murder the Husband!")

Jose: You’re both right about “The Execution!”: it’s a great, imperfect story! As always, the biting need to instill a twist in the ending has shortchanged what could have been an intense, sharply focused portrait of a convict living out the final hours of his life before the appointed tolling of the bell. Perhaps moralistic sensibilities of the time played a part—though this is something that wouldn’t hold EC back in the future—but I couldn’t help but think that this would have been a much more emotionally wrought story had our “hero” been legitimately guilty of the crime, whether by accident or through malicious aforethought. How painful would it have been to see him seek redemption for the wrong he knew that he had done, to actually start to sympathize with him and see that he was essentially a good person just before that switch was thrown? We transition from the heavy drama of Craig’s piece to the black humor-tinged imaginings of Feldstein for the rest of the issue. There’s not much more to say about the two average Quickies in this ish, but I was really hoping that “Murder the Lover!” would end with a panel showing Jeanne at home picking a coconut-flavored chocolate to eat from the box of sweets her husband left her while “Murder the Husband!” would end with her picking a cherry-flavored chocolate from the care package left by her lover. “Snooze to Me!” is not the worst Kamen story we’ve read, and if you’ve been keeping up on our assessment of ol’ Jack’s batting average then there isn’t much else to add to that. “Paralyzed!” is a fairly solid concoction from the Old Witch’s cauldron, a rare tale that posits the wife as the real villain within the fractured EC marriage. Gladys is a different breed of animal than the scheming, adulterous wenches who normally populate these stories. Here is a legitimately psychopathic lass who is willing to throw herself in the way of harm and death just to exert and satisfy her own sense of control over her life, not to mention enacting all kinds of emotional terrorism on her harried husband. Gladys is a Grande Dame villain akin to another of Ghastly’s memorable, murderous madames, Irene from “Staired… In Horror” (VOH 23), and thus her punishment comes with the genuine snap of righteousness.

Smoking Kills! ("Paralyzed!)

Craig

The Vault of Horror #26

"Two of a Kind!"★★
Story and Art by Johnny Craig

"Graft in Concrete!"★★★
Story by Al Feldstein and Bill Gaines
Art by Jack Davis

"Half-Way Horrible!"★★
Story by Al Feldstein and Bill Gaines
Art by Sid Check

"Hook, Line, and Stinker!"★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels

Patience is a virtue, but these days Bernice finds that she’s running awfully short on it. Her beau Stanley has been making house calls going on 15 years now and the sap still hasn’t popped the question, evading Bernice’s pleas and taking off every weekend to go on his regular fishing trips. To add insult to injury, Stanley returns from every one of these jaunts with a new mounted fish to adorn the walls of Bernice’s spacious home; she concedes to the unsightly decorations because she figures that, one day, she and Stanley will share the house together as man and wife. (If she believes that, I have a bridge to sell her.) One day whilst out collecting flowers, Bernice happens by a hay field when she hears the pleasant voices of a picnicking couple. One of them is awfully familiar. To Bernice’s horror, she hears her dedicated boyfriend whispering sweet nothings to some brassy broad named Emma, a lady friend whom he visits every weekend before returning to Bernice’s place with his phony mounted fish. Bernice hightails it back to her place before she loses her fish sticks. The man of her dreams, the one she’s been trying to land for almost two decades, is slipping from her fingers like a water-slick trout. Well, there’s only one way to hook a catch, isn’t there? Taking a note from Stanley’s field book, Bernice brandishes her harpoon and wrestles with her quarry on his next visit. The maid’s arrival the following morning reveals Bernice to be an expert, albeit insane, fisherman: Stanley’s bloodied body stands proudly above the fireplace on its own customized mount.

And you thought that Singin' Bass was horrible . . . ("Hook, Line, and Stinker!")

#firstworldproblems ("Hook, Line, and Stinker!")

My cohorts talk about expectations and revisiting old material in their responses below, and I myself experienced similar feelings upon rereading this issue. “Hook, Line, and Sinker!,” the story I remembered as being tepid and uninspired, ended up being my favorite of the batch this time around. Like many an EC terror tale, it barely qualifies as a horror story until that final macabre panel, the point-of-no-return in the EC story where we go from soap opera to psycho town. Perhaps I just happened to be in the mood for this type of story; there’s not much in it, narrative- or art-wise, to truly distinguish it from a handful of others like it. And yet … something in it beckons to me. I think it might be Bernice; poor, clueless, hopeful Bernice, a perfectly good person who just wants to settle down with the fella she’s keen on, so much so that she can’t plainly see that this will never, ever happen until she’s finally pushed to the breaking point and her mind, in its betrayed fervor, perversely associates her own predicament with the fabrications of sportsmanship her fella has been feeding to her like a can full of worms. I think, in the end, that it’s because Bernice is acting out of love—a possessive, obsessive love, but love nonetheless—as opposed to blind hate and vengeance that makes the dénouement to this story especially chilling.

Pictured: something finally happening. ("Two of a Kind!")

On the other side of the lake, we have “Two of a Kind!,” the story that I recalled as being poignant and even a minor classic but which ended up striking me as closer to the Crypt-Keeper’s (a/k/a Feldstein’s) assessment of it in the introduction to “Graft in Concrete!” as being “eight pages of sheer … stark … nothing!” A tad harsh, perhaps, but even for Johnny Craig’s measured and methodical approach to terror and suspense, this one feels a lot longer than it really is and suffers from a damaging lack of palpable conflict.

We’re told a lot of things in “Two of a Kind!” but we’re rarely ever made to feel them. We’re told that Willow Dree is a notorious, camera-dodging stage actress; we’re told that Willow is really a vampire and her new hunky boyfriend Bradbury Phillips is a flesh-hungry ghoul; and we’re finally told that our two supernatural lovers sacrificed themselves after becoming snowbound in a mountain cabin in order to keep themselves from feeding on one another. We’re told all this, but there’s precious little in the actual panels to convey all this information and emotion to the reader. There’s not a fang or drop of blood to be seen. Mind you, that’s more or less been Craig’s approach to the genre in general, but it leaves this dry story looking like a suspicious outlier in a horror comic book. The ending is especially hampered by the lack of visual data. This is a story that would have benefited from a more visceral approach to the physical ramifications of Willow’s and Brad’s “fasting.” As it looks now, it appears that Willow just lies in bed looking drowsy and Brad’s five o’ clock shadow occasionally grows in. And I get how Brad could consume his own flesh, but how exactly does someone, vampire or otherwise, go about "draining" (re: drinking) their own blood? An unfortunate misfire from the Craig canon.

V-K, laying it all out for us. ("Two of a Kind!")

The middle-of-the-road six-pager slot goes to that old workhorse Sid Check this time out, an artist last seen in these parts in the varyingly enjoyable “Ship-Shape” (HOF 14). Check offers more of the same frills and chills with the Jekyll-and-Hyde variant “Half-Way Horrible!” Undertaker Zachery Boxer calls on an anonymous client who wishes to employ the man’s services and also to listen to his tale of woe. (I have it on good authority that undertakers normally charge extra for this.) Our hapless, nameless narrator has been suffering from terrible blackouts as a result of his acute schizophrenia, blackouts wherein his naughty side gets down with its bad self by getting drunk, beating women, and committing robberies.

So you'll do it then . . .? ("Half-Way Horrible!")

Finally resolving to extinguish his evil proclivities forevermore, our narrator travels to Haiti and seeks out the aid of an old witch doctor who promises to cast out the bad juju by creating a voodoo doll in the man’s likeness and stabbing a long needle through the black-painted “evil” side, thus killing that part of his soul. (I have it on good authority that witch doctors normally include a free Filet-o-Fish with the purchase of this service.) Back in the present, the narrator finally reveals his predicament to Mr. Boxer: the ritual took an all-too-literal turn, and now he needs the undertaker to embalm the side of his body that is currently rotting away! “Half-Way Horrible!” is a harmless cash-in that gets in there, does its thing, and leaves the reader off with a nicely gnarly payoff. Check’s art is better here than what we’ve seen before. Peter notes its similarities to Joe Orlando’s work below; to these tired eyes, several of the panel layouts put me in mind of the early Harry Harrison/Wally Wood collaborations. That’s art for you!

MAH: Metal as Hell ("Graft in Concrete!")

In a rare instance of the cover to an issue from the horror titles accurately depicting a scene from one of the stories (and vice versa), Jack Davis delivers on the promise made by Johnny Craig’s eye-grabbing frontispiece and depicts crumbly, bony zombies tearing their way out of newly-laid asphalt to wreak havoc on the corrupt, flabbergasted scumbags who drive across their path. (These guys should definitely have taken the left turn at Albuquerque.)

There’s even less to the narrative of “Graft in Concrete!” than in “Half-Way Horrible!,” if you can believe it. Basically, a group of cigar-chomping, flabby businessmen, contractors, and politicians all go in on a scheme to construct a new road that just so happens to roll over an old cemetery—wait—while vigorously blackmailing and threatening each other in the process. The jerks have the gravestones moved but, of course, leave the bodily remains of the occupants “peacefully” interred. As it turns out, reanimated corpses hate the sound of construction in the middle of their naps just as much as the living and thus voice their ire in a series of moans and grumbles upon clawing their way up from their tarry tombs and proceeding to literally impress the group of scumbags into the road with the help of a steamroller. The ridiculous climax is well-served by the antic stylings of Jack Davis, who leavens the wormy horror of the zombies’ resurrection with farcical panels that show one frightened scumbag swallowing his cigar and the lot of them flattened into the ground Roger Rabbit-style. It might not be high art, but I know what I like! --Jose

Even when Ingels does happy, it's Ghastly. ("Hook, Line, and Stinker!")

Jack: It's funny how seeing a cover can bring back memories. I had the 1974 reprint of this issue but did not recall any of the stories inside. Best is the Jack Davis story, which could be ripped from today's Washington, DC headlines with all of the ethical violations on display. Story and art are both great and it's a perfect fit for Jack Davis. The Craig story edges out the Ingels story for second place by only a hair, mainly due to Craig's lovely rendition of the female vampire. The story isn't up to the level of the illustrations. The fishing story rings a distant bell but drags on aimlessly for too long, though the last panel almost makes it worthwhile. Sid Check's art is pleasant in the "Half-Way" story and the finish is satisfying if a bit predictable.

Peter: I, too, bought the East Coast reprint of this issue when it first came out and remember loving it as an impressionable 12-year-old, but now, forty years on, I wonder why East Coast picked such an across-the-board average issue of Vault. All four scripts use hackneyed foundations: the vampire and the ghoul (and why would a camera-shy vamp ever take up stage acting?); the greedy businessmen; voodoo; and the just desserts for the adulterer. Of the four, perhaps the most entertaining is "Graft in Concrete!," which succeeds despite (or maybe because of) a huge ladle full of ludicrosity. It must have stuck with Steven Spielberg as well since he pinched the plot device and put it to good use in Poltergeist. Oh, and, if I didn't have the credits in front of me, I would have sworn "Half-Way Horrible!" was drawn by Orlando.

Orlando or Harry-Wood? You decide! ("Half-Way Horrible!")

Wood

Shock SuspenStories #4

"Split Second!"★★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen

"Confession"★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Wally Wood

"Strictly Business!"★★★
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Joe Orlando

"Uppercut!"★ 1/2
Story by Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

Steve Dixon is a gruff boss at a lumber camp somewhere in Canada who rides his men hard, but when he meets a beautiful singer named Liz at a cabaret, he falls head over heels for her. Convincing her to become his bride, he brings her back to the camp, where she is the only woman allowed. Despite her being a gorgeous blond who likes to stand around posing in tight skirts, the men resent her, mainly because Dixon won't let them bring their own wives to the camp. One day, handsome young Ted Morgan comes along and gets a job at the camp after showing himself to be mighty handy with an axe and a speedy log chopper. Liz sets her sights on him but all he wants to do is chop wood, so when he resists her advances she cries out that he tried to assault her. Dixon races to her aid and bashes Ted over the head with a rock, causing the young man to go blind. But the other lumberjacks help Ted learn how to chop a log blindfolded and soon tie up Dixon, sticking him in a hollow log and setting blind Ted out to see how fast he can chop his way through. Liz stands nearby, bound and gagged, waiting her turn to be the next one inside another hollow log.

How Jose charmed his wife. ("Split Second!")

One begins reading a Jack Kamen story expecting it to be average at best, but when he and Feldstein roll out one of their hardboiled dames, narrating in a cruel voice and cigarette hanging from the corner of her lips, they are hard to resist. "Split Second!" (clever title, since it refers to what Liz will be soon after the story ends) is a delight from start to finish and, for once, doesn't always go right where you think it will go. Of course, as soon as Ted is blinded, you know he'll be chopping Steve Dixon, but I expected a head to be lopped off, not a bound and gagged Dixon to be stuffed inside a hollow log. Pure joy!

It's around midnight in the city and Arthur Keenan is driving down a deserted street when he spies the body of a woman lying in the road. He stops and gets out to take a look before getting back in his car to speed off in search of a phone to call for an ambulance. Just then, a police car arrives on the scene. The cops see that the woman is dead and give chase to Arthur's car, assuming that he was a hit and run driver. Arthur is arrested and taken down to the station, where the cops proceed to spend the next ten plus hours beating a "Confession" out of him. One detective has his doubts but Lt. Staley doesn't care. Why should he? He heads home and cleans his wife's blood off of his own car.

Is there any type of story that Wally Wood did not draw well? The only part of this one that made me smile was how the supposedly dead woman in the street seemed to change positions from panel to panel, and each position showed off her terrific body.

Just another night in the Seabrook household ("Strictly Business!")

When Dianne Masters answers a want ad, she is surprised to learn that Alec Craven wants her to sign a three-year contract to be his wife. By the future world of the twenty-first century, marriage licenses are like driver's licenses--they have to be renewed every three years or they expire. Alec offers $10,000 a year and Dianne accepts, but he explains that the marriage is "Strictly Business!" and, as time passes, he demonstrates that he's serious. Dianne falls in love with him but he's not interested in a physical relationship. When the three years are about up, Dianne says that she will tell everyone she's pregnant, since that will cause the license to renew automatically. Alec responds by showing her that he's a robot and reveals that the robots are about to take over. He needed a wife as cover while the plans were being laid, and any fool would know that no robot could impregnate a human female.

In the half-page splash that opens the story, Alec has opened his shirt and Dianne is shocked by what she sees. That alone is enough to guarantee that I'll read the entire story. Dianne is a real stunner--red hair, great physique, and superb fashion sense. Only a robot could ignore her. However, I do recall a movie called Demon Seed . . .

How Peter convinced Jack to do this blog ("Uppercut!")

Joe Wiley is a creep who manages young boxers into the ground and profits off every step. He takes on a new fighter named Dixon and puts him in the ring with a much tougher opponent just so he can make a quick buck. Another fighter named Colby is so mismatched that he dies in the ring. Dixon comes back to Wiley and asks for another chance, breaking open a bottle to celebrate when Wiley agrees. To Wiley's dismay, Dixon slips him a mickey--a drug that makes him appear dead. The cruel manager wakes up and screams when he finds himself in the police morgue, on the table in the middle of an autopsy.

"Uppercut!" represents Gaines and Feldstein at their worst, crafting a seven-page story in order to make a bad pun in the final panel. Wiley tells all of his boxers that they have to have guts to succeed and, in the end, when his intestines have been removed and placed in jars, the manager is said to have no guts. Very funny. At least Jack Davis gives it the old college try, providing his usual, competent artwork and even getting a bit goofy in the panel reproduced here. --Jack

A classic Wally Wood panel layout. ("Confession")

Peter: "Split Second" is just more of the same ol'"punishment fits the crime" routine but it does have one hell of a final panel (Liz, telling us that she's next to be whittled). One of EC's strongest suits was their tough women; these dames often cross over into the kind of lecherous, cold-hearted territory that Jim Thompson mined so well and Liz is a perfect example.  I must admit that the climax of "Strictly Business!" was a let-down; that splash promised much more . . . interesting things ("I don't love you, Dianne, because I'm a woman!!!!") than just another robot-reveal. Al manages to sneak some pretty risqué dialogue into his script ("I didn't lock my bedroom door last night, Alec!") and Joe Orlando keeps up his end by making Dianne curvaceous and busting at the seams in all of her elegant gowns. I'll give this a passing grade for that alone. "Uppercut!" begins as a serious look at the dark side of boxing (not that there's a bright side) but climaxes with the typically silly "just desserts" revenge. Strange that Dixon doesn't even explain his motive for drugging Wiley. Though the outcome of "The Confession" is fairly predictable (at least it was to me), there's no denying the impact. Of course, it might have carried a bit more of a shock way back in 1952 when police brutality wasn't a daily headline like it is today. The most startling aspect of the story may be how easily the lieutenant manipulates his men into covering up his crime for him.

Now that's just wrong! ("Uppercut")

Jose: Feldstein must have been running short on slips from his Character Name Jar, seeing as how we have two fellows in this issue both going by the name of Dixon. Poor Al—I give him so much flak, but reading all these stories at a marathon rate week-in and week-out has really opened up my eyes to just how staggering his contributions to the company were. In a lot of ways, Al was EC; it’s his voice that we identify with so many cackling puns and shock endings. I think my growing affection for him has resulted in an increased enjoyment of each story, regardless of its status as classic or turkey. By my estimation, there aren’t any turkeys in the barnyard that is Shock #4. “Uppercut!” is the shallowest of the bunch; you can hear the bad joke being set up the second Wiley barks “You got to have guts!” Still, the ending makes for a pretty vicious punchline. “Strictly Business!” gives its own punchline away in the opening splash. Dianne’s horrified reaction to Alec exposing his naked torso to her (paging Dr. Wertham!) clues the reader in that this rugged playboy is of decidedly non-human origin. I also love how Feldstein made special allowances for 21st century developments like expiring marriage licenses and “vacuum lifts” but threw inflation right out the window: Dianne gasps in surprise at the princely salary of $10,000 a year she'll be receiving for her wifely services. Make sure you put a little away for your retirement at the Asimov Trailer Park Estates, sweetie!

"I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK!" ("Split Second!")

“Split Second!” is a great jazzy piece about lust and lumber, a crime story without any real crime in it. I was surprised when Ted turned down Liz’s advances, a diversion from the EC house formula that earns the story bonus points and that makes the young buck more believably innocent and the venomous vamp more breathtakingly despicable. I was thinking that “Confession” would end with our tortured motorist dying whilst in custody and the real culprit discovered moments too late. That probably would have left the story a little too similar to “The Guilty” from the previous issue, and as it stands “Confession” is a grueling exercise in preconceived notions and misplaced judgment, a through-line that connects this story not only with “The Guilty” but with “The Patriots” from Shock #2. It wasn’t my understanding that the detectives brutalizing Arthur were knowingly covering up for their lieutenant; I took it that both of them were simply taking the word of the arresting officers and then taking out their own (barely) pent-up frustrations on Arthur’s flesh. We see a brief glimpse of the bloodied victim on the last page, but the lumpen horror that Arthur has been reduced to is an apt metaphor for the members of the broken system the story depicts: miserable wretches with weeping sores and eyes.

More Dianne ("Strictly Business!")

Davis

Tales from the Crypt #31

"Survival . . . or Death!"★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Davis

"The Thing in the 'Glades!"★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Al Williamson

"Kamen's Kalamity!"★★★
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Jack Kamen, Graham Ingels, Johnny Craig, and Jack Davis

"Buried Treasure!"★★ 1/2
Story by Al Feldstein
Art by Graham Ingels

"Survival . . . or Death!"

Gregory Macy and Charles Warner are rich and bored. Having decided to ride one of the cargo ships they own back to the States, they come up with a fun way to pass the time by watching rats battle to the death when they are caught in a cleverly constructed trap that features a safe platform with room for only one rodent. Certain that civilized men would never behave in such a violent manner when faced with "Survival . . . or Death!," they are surprised to learn that the opposite is true when they find themselves in a crowded lifeboat after the ship springs a leak. In the end, Macy and Warner are left to fight to the death over a single piece of driftwood in the vast ocean, and both men end up in Davy Jones's Locker.

Feldstein's plot is like a series of instructions that carries the reader from point A to point Z but there is never any doubt that Macy and Warner will end up in the water fighting like two rats. At least Jack Davis manages to keep things interesting.

There have been three killings in two months in the Florida Everglades and the sheriff vows to find and stop whatever is tearing men to pieces! Old Ezzard, the local hermit, denies any knowledge of the killings but won't let the sheriff in his cabin for a look around. A fourth victim is found and, this time, Old Ezzard confesses that "The Thing in the 'Glades!" is his son, deformed in brain and lower body since birth but with tremendous upper body strength. Junior goes wild, ripping off his father's arm and making a mad dash through the forest until he is trapped in a patch of quicksand and drowns.

Pursued by a creature in shadows! ("The Thing in the 'Glades!")

Of all the great comic artists who did work for EC, it seems to me that, based on what we've seen so far, Al Williamson was the one most poorly served by the limitations on the quality of reproduction of his artwork on comic book printing presses and cheap paper. This is not one of Feldstein's best scripts and, once again, it's too wordy, but what I can make out of Williamaon's work through the murky reproduction appears to be very impressive. My favorite scene is when the deformed son is loping in shadow through the forest after the sheriff. It's more chilling than the full-on reveal of the hideous thing.

Ghost-starring your favorite EC artists! ("Kamen's Kalamity!")

Back in the late '40s, when EC was putting out love comics, Jack Kamen appeared on the scene and became a mainstay among the company's artists due to his skill at drawing pretty girls. When love mags faded in popularity and EC switched to horror comics, "Kamen's Kalamity!" was that he had a hard time adapting his style to the new demands. Determined to get with the program, Kamen went home and turned into a mad killer one night, murdering a neighbor in his quiet, suburban community. But wait, it was only a dream! He was as nice as ever and the harrowing nightmare helped him understand how to draw scary comics.

Bill and Al had given us a glimpse of the inner workings at EC before but this is even better, since it provides a humorous look at the company's recent history and a chance to see some of the artists draw caricatures of themselves. Yes, there's red-headed Graham Ingels chewing on a bone and sticking pins in a Bill Gaines doll; Johnny Craig with a Gaines doll in a miniature guillotine; Jack Davis, in a confederate Civil War cap, with a tiny noose around the neck of his Gaines doll. We complain about Jack Kamen's stories often in this blog, but this very funny piece shows that he had a good sense of humor about his work.

Duke Heinrich: Now With Special Surprise Inside! ("Buried Treasure!")

Heinrich, Duke of Schlusstein, ruled his small principality in Germany in 1687 with a cruel hand, feasting in his castle while the peasants starved. His carriage runs over a small boy and he raises taxes to pay for the cleaning and repair of his vehicle. To pay the taxes, Emile and Johann plan to break into the castle and steal some jewels. Johann volunteers to do it alone and, when he is caught in the act, Heinrich arranges for punishment in the public square. The poor man's hands are chopped off at the wrists and this sends the crowd into a frenzy. Emile grabs Heinrich and feeds him his own jewels, then tosses his fat body to the crowd, urging them to hunt for "Buried Treasure!" They lustily comply, ripping Heinrich to bits to recover the jewels hidden inside.

"The Thing in the 'Glades!"

Feldstein takes some of the plot of A Tale of Two Cities and moves it to 17th century Germany, but the story never really gets going and ends up falling flat. The final twist, where the peasants rip apart Heinrich for jewels, seems tacked on and is not shown. Ingels seems to be going through the motions in this one. --Jack

Peter: A semi-sorta-sequel to "Horror Beneath the Streets" (from Haunt of Fear #3), "Kamen's Kalamity!" is an aptly-titled waste of time. I thought the panel of Kamen declaring to the world "Okay! Okay! I'm gonna be horrible!You'll see! You'll see!" contained just about the truest words spoken in an EC Comic. Thankfully, "Kalamity" is the only loser this issue; the rest of the fare is high-quality entertainment. Yes, I know, I continually carp about the "just desserts" denouements around this dungeon but, for some reason (maybe because the lifeboat scene is handled so brutally) "Survival . . . or Death!" works, for me, on a couple different levels. And let's thank Al that the reveal wasn't an ocean full of rats supping on Greg. Still in infant stage, Al Williamson's art for "The Thing in the 'Glades!" nonetheless dazzles (and just think of what it would evolve into very soon) and so does Feldstein's script. No twists, no reveals, no last panel surprise; just a good old-fashioned atmospheric swamp monster tale with a very creepy beasty. But the best is saved for last in "Buried Treasure!," an unflinchingly grim revenge/rebellion tale with a climactic mob scene very reminiscent of Nathaniel West's The Day of the Locust. Ghastly's art perfectly fits the ugly subject. Best story of the issue and of the month.

It wouldn't be a Kamen story without . . . ("Kamen's Kalamity!")

Jose: Reading these stories in Russ Cochran’s B&W hardcover reprints is, for my money, far more engaging and aesthetically pleasing than previewing the colored reprints, as sacrilegious as that might sound to the memory of “four-color horror.” It allows the artists’ work to really shine through and for minute details to be picked out by the eye; it wasn’t till this last reading that I noticed the dollar-bill lettering on the splash page for “Kamen’s Kalamity!” or the devilish face grinning back from the beer stein in the introduction to “Buried Treasure!” Al Williamson’s illustrations for “The Thing in the ‘Glades!” really look beautiful reproduced in monochrome, his fine, delicate lines giving the panels a much more mellow, whispery look than they have under coats of comic book paint. As far as the stories are concerned, all the ones in this issue stand as solid entries. “Survival … or Death” is a rough and tumble affair that ably sketches the savagery of man, “The Thing …” makes for a frequently unsettling creature feature/swamp noir, “Kamen’s Kalamity!” is a cream puff of a parody whose tone is more jovial than snappy like humorous yarns of the recent past, and “Buried Treasure!” is a middling revenge tale with a gory ending that doesn’t feel as horrific as it should and that slyly questions the morality of Emile’s punishment of the Duke.

Next Week: Our Prayers are Answered!

by Jack Seabrook

Run for Doom is a novel by Henry Kane that was first published in England in 1960 as #302 in TV Boardman's American Bloodhound series. Reprinted in paperback in the US in 1962, the novel concerns Don Reed, a 27 year old senior in medical school, who drives from his home in New Jersey to New York City with his friend Dora Mason to see a performance at the Hotsy Club by the Bill Floyd trio, a jazz combo. Dora is the 62 year old editor of the Spring Echo Herald, the newspaper in Don's hometown, and she has been a mother figure to him since his own mother died when he was three. Don's father is seventy-four, near the end of a successful career as a lawyer, and it was at his insistence that Don went to medical school instead of pursuing a career as a musician. At the club, Don is captivated by Flame Cortez, a dancer performing with the trio.

John Gavin as Don Reed

Dora knows Bill Floyd and he introduces Don to Flame. Don quickly confesses to having fallen in love at first sight, so he and Flame leave the club together and tell each other their life stories over cheap food. Though she warns him that she is "rotten," he walks her home, they kiss, and she invites him inside. They begin to spend all their time together and Don wants to get married. Dora tries to warn him and says that Flame and Bill Floyd are a known item, but Don does not listen. One night at the club, Bill Floyd also tries to warn Don about Flame, but to no avail. Even Don's father appears at the club, anxious to intervene.

At home, Don's father tries to talk him out of marrying Flame, having investigated her background. Don leaves in anger after shoving his father backward into a chair. After visiting a bar, driving around and doing some thinking, Don returns home to apologize, only to find his father dead of a heart attack. Feeling like a murderer, Don confesses to Dora, insisting that he still plans to marry Flame. He confronts Flame about Bill Floyd and she denies ever having wanted to wed the musician. Don inherits over $60,000 from his father and suddenly Flame is more receptive to the idea of marriage.

Diana Dors as Nickie Carroll (Flame Cortez)

Don graduates from medical school and marries the dancer; they spend the summer honeymooning in Europe before returning by cruise ship. Flame loses interest in her husband and flirts with other men, settling on a handsome Argentinian named Pedro Simone. On the last night of the journey, Don finds them together on deck and a fight ends with Pedro being knocked overboard and into the water. Flame talks Don out of filing a report.

At home again, Flame throws a housewarming party; an unexpected guest is an investigator who questions the newlyweds about Pedro Simone's disappearance. Dora consoles Don, who tells her about the accident but admits that nothing seems to cool his lust for his bride. Don works hard as a hospital intern while Flame entertains a series of men, including Bill Floyd, in the afternoons at home. Called to an emergency, Don meets a beautiful young woman named Alice Horton; he learns that she is a nurse and arranges a job for her at the hospital. Don and Alice fall in love and begin to meet clandestinely; he decides to ask Flame for a divorce, but when she refuses he begins to think about murder.

Time passes and Don visits Dora, who says that Alice's father paid her a visit. She warns him about trying to enlist Bill Floyd's aid in convincing Flame to allow a divorce and, when Don visits Bill at the club, the man refuses to help him. Flame reappears as a dancer and Don, drunk, is thrown out into the gutter. That summer, Flame tells Don that she has cleaned out their bank accounts and is leaving. Things only get worse when Alice tells Don that her family is moving to California to get her away from him. Alice's father visits Don and explains that he is taking the girl away for her own good but if Don gets a divorce they can be together. Soon after that, Don gets a call at the hospital to respond to an emergency at his own home.

Scott Brady as Bill Floyd

Don rushes home to find the police holding Bill Floyd, who has confessed to killing Flame and leaving her corpse in the upstairs bedroom. Don runs upstairs and grabs the money that she had taken, then sees her sitting up in bed, very much alive. Thinking that the police believe her to be dead, he strangles her, but when he goes downstairs Chief Mulloy reveals that he knew Flame was not dead and that is why he called the hospital and not the morgue. Don runs out of the house but realizes "you cannot run forever."

At just 124 pages in paperback, Run for Doom is a short, fast-paced crime novel that falls squarely in the noir tradition in its depiction of the ruin of a good man by a bad woman. Don lost his mother when he was three years old and was raised by a stern father who was nearly 50 when the child was born. One could suggest that Don spends the novel trying to replace his mother, first choosing Flame Cortez, a fantasy figure of a woman, before settling on Alice Horton, a nurse and a more realistic maternal substitute.

First edition

Henry Kane, the author, was born in 1908 and received a law degree but made his mark writing novels and short stories, as well as scripts for radio and TV. His most popular works were a series of hard-boiled detective novels featuring private eye Peter Chambers; the first in the series was called A Halo for Nobody (1947). Kane published over 60 novels between then and 1982, as well as short stories between 1947 and 1967. His TV and movie work spanned the years from 1949 to 1974, though he wrote for the screen mainly in the 1950s. "Run for Doom" was one of two episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour to be based on his novels. He died in 1988. Lawrence Block wrote an entertaining article about Henry Kane that may be read here.

James Bridges adapted Run for Doom for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour and it was broadcast on CBS on Friday, May 17, 1963, as the next to last episode of the first season of hour-long shows. In order to compress the short novel to fit the TV show's running time, Bridges cuts out major characters and subplots and focuses on the main thread of the story involving Don and Flame, renamed Nickie Carroll. The televised version is a showcase for actress Diana Dors and opens with her singing "Just One of Those Things," the 1935 Cole Porter standard. The book's first scene, with Don driving to New York with Dora Mason, is gone; also gone from the TV show is the character of Dora in her entirety, replaced in the initial scene by Dr. Frank Farmer, a colleague of Don's from the hospital.

A singer rather than a dancer, Nickie approaches Don at his table to the consternation of Bill Floyd; in the book, the musician introduces the soon to be lovers. In the screenplay, Floyd is more visibly jealous of Nickie--perhaps the novel's portrayal of their relationship was too edgy for TV. Don is not a senior in medical school but rather has recently graduated and is already a practicing physician. The TV show has Nickie leave Don after they share a cheap meal together; in the book, he takes her home and spends the night.

Carl Benton Reid as Don's father

Nickie returns to the club, where Floyd slaps her before kissing her. The courtship between Don and Nickie is implied in the scene that follows, where he uses baseball imagery to lead up to a marriage proposal. At the earlier scene at the sandwich counter, he had spoken of getting to first base and batting 1000; now, he puts on a baseball cap and asks her to join his team. Bill Floyd advises Don not to marry Nickie, telling the doctor that "she's mine" but that she is free to come and go, adding that that is "the only way to keep her." In the TV version, Floyd tells Don that Nickie has been married before but always comes back to him, so he calls her his "boomerang baby."

Don's father talks to him and Nickie sings "How Long Has This Been Going on," a 1927 standard by the Gershwins and another example of how the songs used in this episode provide commentary on the action. Don and Nickie then visit Don's father at home; the old man had Nickie investigated and learned that her real name is Nadine Bryant and she has been married three times. In the novel, Flame Cortez was her real name and, while she had plenty of men, she had never been married before. After Don's father dies, he confesses his feelings to Nickie instead of to Dora. When she agrees to marry him, he tells her: "You make me jealous, I'll kill you," foreshadowing the show's conclusion.

1962 Signet paperback

Nickie visits Bill at the club and he picks out "Here Comes the Bride" on the piano, again having the music reflect the story. Bill tells her that she will tire of Don and come back to him; they exchange vows of "I hate you" in a twisted reflection of the scene where she and Don had declared their love for each other. The honeymoon is compressed into a few scenes on the cruise ship, ending with the lover (rechristened Curtis Cane) being pushed overboard. Don and Nickie return home and, after the investigator leaves, Nickie receives a call from Bill and tells Don that she is going to the city. When Don tries to stop her, she tells him that "the ball game's over," taking his playful baseball analogy and throwing it in his face.

At the club, Nickie tells Bill that she has left Don but also does not need Floyd anymore; she sits down at the piano and sings a few lines of "Just One of Those Things," giving it a darker meaning than it had in the show's first scene, where it suggested that her meeting with Don fit the song's title. Alice Horton is the other major character jettisoned by James Bridges in his TV adaptation; the entire subplot about Don's second love affair and plan to divorce his wife and marry his new love has been eliminated. Instead, events are compressed and hastened along as Don goes to the bank and learns that Nickie has withdrawn all their money. He goes home and confronts her and she points a gun at him when he takes their money from her suitcase. He leaves in disgust after she threatens to tell the FBI agent about his role in Cane's death aboard the cruise ship. Don drives off in anger and we see Bill Floyd sitting in a car outside the Reed home.

Don realizes what he has done

Floyd then pushes his way into the house. A violent struggle ensues between him and Nickie, ending with him strangling her in the upstairs bedroom. In the book, Floyd's attack on Flame is not described; as he often does, Bridges takes events that are referred to on the printed page and dramatizes them for the screen. The conclusion of the show follows that of the novel closely, except Don does not run out of the house at the end. Instead, the camera closes in on his stricken face as the detective heads up the stairs to take a statement from Nickie, Don fully aware of the consequences of what he has just done.

Note the comparison of figures

"Run for Doom" is a satisfying episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour that features strong direction by Bernard Girard, who coaxes good performances from both of his leads. Diana Dors is a competent singer in the mold of Marilyn Monroe; she sings two standards all the way through and the viewing experience is not unpleasant. During her first song, Girard frames her next to a standing bass, making a clever visual comparison between her curves and those of the instrument. Throughout the episode, Girard shows Dors both in closeup and in full figure shots, taking advantage of her looks.

After Don pushes Cane overboard

The director also makes good use of John Gavin, an actor who in other roles often seems wooden onscreen. Gavin and Dors have good chemistry in the early scene at the sandwich counter where they discuss sex without being explicit. Girard shoots closeups of Gavin at two key points of emotional stress and makes him look deranged: the first comes right after he throws Cane overboard on the ship and the second comes when a seemingly dead Nickie suddenly comes back to life. This scene is particularly good. Don rushes into the bedroom but has no interest in Nickie at all. Instead, he opens her suitcase to look for his money. He moves her hand out of the way and is shocked when it falls back and grabs his arm. Nickie then sits up in bed, rising like a corpse from her grave determined to haunt him. He strangles her and, in a particularly chilling moment, he shows clinical detachment by checking her pulse to make sure that she is really dead this time: unlike Bill Floyd, whose emotions get the better of him, Don Reed is a doctor after all.

With Bridges streamlining the story and adding his trademark repetitive touches, such as the baseball metaphor, the strangely appropriate songs, and the idea of Nickie as a boomerang that Floyd can toss and expect to come back, the script is tight and fast-moving. Girard's direction, mixing a good amount of control over his actors with a variety of shots that work to achieve maximum emotional effect, ensures that the episode is entertaining from start to finish. Finally, the actors all give convincing performances, making "Run for Doom" a successful adaptation of its source novel.

Diana Dors sings "Just One of Those Things"

Bernard Girard (1918-1977) directed many TV shows and a few movies between 1951 and 1975. He directed twelve episodes of the Hitchcock show and the last reviewed here was "Ride the Nightmare."

Although "Run for Doom" is a showcase or Diana Dors, John Gavin (1931- ) gets top billing. He started out in movies in 1956 and appeared in such classics as Imitation of Life (1959), Psycho (1960) and Spartacus (1960). Born John Golenor, he was on TV from 1960 to 1981, when President Reagan appointed him the U.S. ambassador to Mexico. He was also the head of the Screen Actors Guild from 1971 to 1973. He nearly played James Bond in Diamonds Are Forever (1971) before being replaced by a returning Sean Connery, and he again almost played the part in Live and Let Die (1973) before being passed over in favor of Roger Moore. This was the first of his two roles on The Alfred Hitchcock Hour; the second was "Off Season."

Tom Skerritt as Dr. Farmer

The voluptuous Diana Dors (1931-1984) was born Diana Fluck in England and later joked that she had to change her name because she was afraid that a light might burn out if her name was displayed on a marquee. She led a fascinating and sordid life, one which she detailed in four autobiographies. Dors was in movies from 1947 to 1984 and on TV from 1951 to 1981, including two appearances on the Hitchcock series--the other one was Robert Bloch's "The Sorcerer's Apprentice." She died of cancer at age 52 and there is website devoted to her here.

Playing the tough and unscrupulous piano player Bill Floyd is Scott Brady (1924-1985), who was born in New York as Gerard Tierney. After serving in the Navy in WWII, his movie career began in 1948 and lasted until 1984. His TV career began in 1955. His films included Johnny Guitar (1954) and the TV movie, The Night Strangler (1973); while he was in many TV episodes, this was his only appearance on the Hitchcock show.

Gail Bonney as Sarah the maid

Actors with smaller roles include Carl Benton Reid (1893-1973), who plays Don's father. After starting out on stage in the 1930s, he moved into movies in 1941 and TV in 1949. His screen career ended in 1966 and included an appearance on Thriller and roles in three episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, including "The Jar." Tom Skerritt (1933- ) plays Dr. Frank Framer, Don Reed's colleague. He had just begun his onscreen career in 1962, not long before this episode was filmed; he would later act in an episode of The Night Stalker before appearing in Alien (1979) and as a regular on the TV series Picket Fences (1992-1996). He is still performing today at age 83.

Two other Hitchcock show stalwarts make brief appearances in ""Run for Doom": Robert Carson (1909-1979) plays the detective at the end who discovers Nickie's body and Gail Bonney (1901-1984) plays Sarah, the Reed family's maid. Carson and Bonney appeared in eleven episodes each, always in similar, small parts.

"Run for Doom" is not yet available on DVD in the U.S. but video clips of Diana Dors singing the two full-length songs from this episode are on YouTube here and here.

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In two weeks: "The Cadaver" with Michael Parks!