Episode 1.26: Whodunit.

Starring: John Williams
Written by: Francis M. Cockrell, Marian B. Cockrell (teleplay), C.B. Gilford (story)
Directed by: Francis M. Cockrell
First aired March 25, 1956

Episode Grade: C

This one is silly, but it’s got my beloved John Williams in it, and he elevates everything he’s in.

Hitch’s Intro:

Hitch is pounding a gavel on a desk. On his right, there is a pitcher of water and some glasses on a tray. On his left, there are some books. He greets us with “Good evening, fellow necromaniacs.”

Tonight’s play has to do with three little words: “Who. Done. It.” Our hero, at the beginning of this Grand Guignol, is already quite dead.

Episode Re-Cap & Commentary:

Oh look, we’re in Heaven already. A Disney-esque choir is singing (lots of airy sopranos, like we hear in the beginning credits of Cinderella or Peter Pan), and a lovely little angel with curly hair (Ruta Lee) enters a large library-like room, and announces to the angel Wilfred (Alan Napier!!!) the arrival of Alexander Penn Arlington (John Williams).

Alexander is sitting on a cloud, holding a lyre. He’s really not that into it. He looks awkward and uncomfortable and hilarious.

“Alexander, my name is Wilfred,” Wilfred tells Alexander. “We use only first names here.” He tells Alexander that he is his “recording angel.” Wilfred is then handed a huge book. Alexander looks around. There are “endless” (but not really, I mean, we can tell) stacks of records. And columns, and clouds. It is a very 1950s low-budget TV set version of Heaven, but I must say, I like it. It’s rather comforting. It sort of reminds me of my grandfather’s home, a pizza shop, where he painted the walls with trompe l’oeil. But that is a story for another time.

“Rather a lot of us,” Alexander remarks.

“Arlingtons?” Wilfred asks.

“I meant people,” Alexander corrects, and then adds: “Are all these….Arlingtons?” He is astonished. Wilfred tells him that this is just the Arlingtons from “Alexander” to “Arabella.”

As Wilfred finds the right place in the book for this particular Alexander Arlington, he notices Alexander is uncomfortable and rather miserable-looking. Alexander asks if he really NEEDS the lyre and cloud. Wilfred says no, it’s just that others expect them. And then they disappear. As Alexander sits down, he becomes aware of the wings on his back. (These are the kind of wings one might find in an elementary school play, and I find this utterly charming.) “Later you won’t need them,” Wilfred tells him.

Episode 1.25: There Was an Old Woman.

Starring: Estelle Winwood, Charles Bronson, Norma Crane
Written by: Marian B. Cockrell (teleplay), Jerry & Hal Hackady (story)
Directed by: Robert Stevenson
First aired March 18, 1956

Episode Grade: A

This episode, friends. This episode. I just love it. I love it I love it I love it. It stars Estelle Winwood, who I want to be when I grow up. She was one of the most badass women who ever lived.

Hitch’s Intro:

Wait, what? The original, black serif title card is back. What’s that about?

Hitch is standing with his hands in his pockets. He looks cute, I think, sort of jaunty. “I have a request for those of you who are not watching television: Please turn on your sets. I’m sure I look much worse in the flamboyant Technicolor of your imagination than I do in the austere black and white of television.”

He tells us that we’ll enjoy this episode, about Monica Laughton, “a nice little old lady with a penchant for funerals.”

He’s right. We will.

Episode Re-Cap & Commentary:

We see a mourning wreath on the front door, and Monica Laughton (Estelle Winwood!!!) opens the door calling: “Morning, Theodore!” Theodore (Dabbs Greer!!! oh my gosh, Dabbs Greer), the milkman, greets her, and they talk pleasantly about it being a picture-book morning. “But most bracing,” Monica says. “I only wish Oscar could have seen it.”

Theodore acknowledges the wreath and says, “Oh I’m so sorry. Oscar, did you say? Did he suffer much?” Monica tells him that Cecily is most torn up and it won’t be long until she follows him to the grave. “Just pinin’ away is she,” asks Theodore and then adds, “….Anything else extra you want?” And Monica asks for a pint of cream. “For all these people around,” she says. She mentions that Oscar was very wealthy. “Brings out the relatives,” she says. Theodore agrees, and then departs.

Goodbye, Shawn & Gus.

I was going to write up the next AHP episode, “There Was an Old Woman” starring Estelle Winwood and Charles Bronson. But I just can’t bring myself to do it yet.

Because Psych is ending tonight.

This is making me incredibly sad, more than I would have expected….and I couldn’t figure out why. I mean, we’re always sad when a show we love ends. It’s like saying goodbye to a friend, and knowing they’re not coming back. We care about the characters and we look forward to seeing them every week.

But I’ve been feeling something greater than that, a strange sorrow. I just couldn’t figure out why. I kept thinking “What is WRONG with me? It’s a SHOW.” (I wondered if I had lingering PMS. Is that a thing?) …..And then, today, I realized: I watched this show with my mother.

Episode 1.24: The Perfect Murder.

Starring: Mildred Natwick, Hurd Hatfield, Philip Coolidge
Written by: Victor Wolfson (teleplay), Stacy Aumonier (story)
Directed by: Robert Stevens
First aired March 11, 1956

Episode Grade: A

Friends. I am half in the bag. I was drinking and singing jazz at Epicure Cafe, and then I had a cup of coffee. So maybe I’m really just, like, a quarter in the bag. But I thought, since I can’t sleep, and I just started doing laundry (this is what I do when I’m drunk. Laundry. I’m a f*cking renegade, man, I like to live on the edge), I’m gonna write this blog because I love this episode. Not as much as I love the next episode, though. But still. It’s good. It’s got Mildred Natwick! How can it be bad? She’s always good.

This is based on a story by Stacy Aumonier, who was a British writer, not French, but who was of French (Hugenot) ancestry. It seems to take place in France, this story.

Hitch’s Intro:

Hitch has a knife in his back. He then turns to us, moves his shoulders uncomfortably (I should have written this yesterday, on the Ides of March), and then says how we all enjoy a nice murder. Then he says that there isn’t really any such thing as a nice murder, or a perfect murder, especially if one doesn’t have a good lawyer.

Episode Re-Cap & Commentary:

“We had gathered to hear the lawyer read my uncle’s will.” This is narrated by Henri Tallendier (Philip Coolidge). A stout little man  (Percy Helton) with a pince-nez takes out a will. Henri tells us that those present included Ernestine the Cook (Gladys Hurlbut), Henri’s wife Marie (Hope Summers), Henri, Henri’s brother Paul (Hurd Hatfield), and Aunt Rosalie (Mildred Natwick! yaaaaay). The lawyer reads the will out loud (with a voice sort of flubbery, like Bill Thompson’s): “I leave my entire estate to my dear wife Rosalie.” Rosalie nods. But there are some conditions. Ernestine gets ₣1,000 (that would be about $200 of today’s money, so he left her, like, fifty cents. Gee, thanks pal), and upon Rosalie’s death, his estate will be divided equally between Henri and Paul. Rosalie looks alarmed, and her parrot squawks and she tells her parrot to be quiet. I think the parrot says “How’s that, pretty lady?” or something. Whatever, I don’t have captions on.

Episode 1.23: Back for Christmas.

Starring: John Williams
Written by: Francis M. Cockrell (teleplay), John Collier (story)
Directed by: Alfred Hitchcock
First aired March 4, 1956

Episode Grade: A+++

Friends, I am SO EXCITED about this one. Actually, there are several great episodes in a row for the next few weeks. This one stars Alfred Hitchcock’s friend and one of his favorite actors, John Williams. Not John Williams the composer. John Williams the actor. Two very different people.

John Williams is my favorite of all the players in the Hitchcock canon. He was a glorious and gifted actor. Only he can play an incredibly likable murderer. That’s right. I said, likable murderer.

Hitch’s Intro:

This intro is also one of my favorites. Hitch is standing at a desk, examining a shrunken head. He greets us with “Good evening ladies and gentleman….especially the ladies.” He warns the ladies that our heads will shrink if we stay under the hair dryer too long.

He tells us collecting shrunken heads are a hobby of his; not making them. Making them takes to long. “You have to wait for the owner of the head to die,” he says, “and I haven’t the patience for that.”

He adds that this episode has nothing whatsoever to do with shrunken heads. (He’s right. It doesn’t.)

Episode Re-Cap & Commentary:

This isn’t an action-filled episode, really. It’s quite gentle. There is no melodrama at all. And yet, it moves swiftly and enjoyably. It is excellent.

The first thing we see is Herbert Carpenter (my beloved John Williams). He is digging a pit, a rectangular pit, in his cellar. He is doing this while wearing some nice trousers, a waistcoat and shirt, while holding a pipe in his teeth. Only John Williams could look elegant and relaxed while digging what is ostensibly a wine cellar. He picks up a yardstick, and measures the depth of the pit (nearly dropping a lead pipe, which he then hides). His wife Hermione calls for him. She comes down the stairs, a plump and cherubic busybody. Herbert is digging this “wine cellar” himself, but as Hermione chides him gently for doing all the work without help, we see him measure the length of it in comparison to Hermione. They are going on a long business trip, to America, and they leave that evening. Hermione had organized every last detail, and is inflexible with the schedule. She tells him they must finish packing and Herbert admits that he’s done everything he can for the moment anyway….concerning the “wine cellar.” He says, casually,  and a smidge pleased with himself, “…Yes, I think I have.”