Death VERSUS a Salesman

 

"One for the Angels" (October 9, 1959) is the second episode of The Twilight Zone's first season and it's one of my favorites. And one reason I like it is that it's possible to interpret it in two different, equally valid ways.

Ed Wynn is a salesman named Lou Bookman who talks Death into letting him live until he makes the best sales pitch anyone has ever made, then retires so that he'll never make the pitch and thus never die. He effectively runs a con on Death (superbly played by Murray Hamilton).

 

But Death has a quota to meet and life for Bookman means an 8-year-old girl will die in his place. When Bookman learns about this, he delays Death past the girl's appointed time to die by making the best sales pitch ever, so that Death keeps buying things from him and loses track of time. This mean Bookman now has to die--he has deliberately sacrificed himself to save the girl.

That by itself would have made it a classic episode. It's a story of loving self-sacrifice, brought to life by two actors giving great performances and Serling's strong script.

But I think there's a deeper interpretation of this episode. Death knew that Bookman was a Friend to All Children. We've already seen that he can teleport wherever he needs to be, so had no need to walk by Bookman to get to the girl's apartment. 

It is possible that Death ran a reverse con on Bookman, deliberately setting up a situation where he could take Bookman and let the girl live? This doesn't change the fact that Bookman gave his life to save a child, but adds a deeper dimension to the character of Death.

It makes Death a nice guy, as he is in the later episode "Nothing in the Dark." (written by George Clayton Johnson.) Death will do his job, but if he has a chance to help save a little girl who doesn't HAVE to die at this time, then he'll do so. 

On the other hand, if Bookman doesn't legitimately outsmart Death, then does this defang the original con-artist dynamic because Bookman's actions do not cost Death anything? One can argue that I'm trading story friction for emotional warmth and--well, whether that's a fair trade is debatable. 

I full realize that my view of the episode is my own self-insert into the story. In either case, I like it and I'm going for it. It's not a hidden canon fact, but I think its a valid interpretation.

Is He a Good Guy or a Bad Guy?

 

cover art by Bob Budiansky

Spectacular Spider-Man Annual #2 (1980) is hardly a perfect comic book. There are pacing issues; a page panel during a fight scene that is ridiculously dialogue-heavy; and the new character introduced in the issue fails to make any sort of significant splash in the Marvel universe.

But, heck, it's still fun to read.  So I'll forgive its weaknesses. Writer Ralph Macchio and artist Jim Mooney rack up more positives than negatives before the story comes to an end.

It starts with Spidey and a new vigilante called the Rapier stopping a heist at the docks. The Rapier thanks Spidey for the help, then walks away into the night without giving any information about himself. That's fair enough--Rapier himself points out that Spider-Man doesn't give out personal information either. 

Well, there's more going on at the docks than one botched robbery. There's a crime wave going on and, the next day, Peter and Ned Leeds are threatened by thugs when they try to investigate. When Peter returns to the Daily Bugle, he finds yet more thugs. The mob boss Silvermane is there as well, threatening J. Jonah Jameson over crime exposé articles that the Bugle is running. 

One of the strong points of the story is that Macchio remembers an important aspect of J.J.J.'s character. He might be a greedy jerk much of the time and he might have a hang-up about Spider-Man, but he is a determined journalist who doesn't back down from threats. He WILL print the truth. Later, Jonah is obviously affected when Robbie Robertson--perhaps his only real friend--is roughed up. But he still goes ahead with the exposés.

Spider-Man visits Silvermane and, after a nifty fight against the mob boss's goons, threatens Silvermane and tells him to lay off the Bugle. In the meantime, we learn more about the Rapier. He's not a crimefighter looking to help the innocent. Rather, he's a former partner of Silvermane who was double-crossed and left for dead. His goal is to kill his former partner.

Rapier arranges to meet Silvermane at the Met Cloisters--a monastery-turned-museum that is indeed a visually cool place to have a superhero fight. 

Silvermane, of course, tries to cheat by bringing some henchmen along.  Rapier takes them out, reveals his identity to Silvermane and zaps him with an electrified sword. He's about to finish off the mobster when Spider-Man (who had earlier planted a Spidey Tracer on one of Silvermane's men) shows up.

Rapier slashes off Spidey's webshooters and tosses him a sword. What follows is yet another nifty fight, though this is were the dialogue-heavy panel comes in. Even taking into account that Marvel Comics has always cheated a little in how many quips it's possible to make during a fight scene, Spidey delivers an absurdly-long philosophical treatise about the differences between himself and Rapier.

Rapier's girlfriend has arrived and, worried about the man she loves, bashes Spidey over the head. But this just annoys Rapier. Everything has to happen on his terms and Clarissa has spoiled it all. Now he has to start over. He can't finish off Spider-Man. He can't finish off Silvermane. It's all been spoiled.

It's spoiled even more when Silvermane shoots him in the back while he's leaving. Though badly wounded, he does still manage to get away.

That's pretty much it. Introducing Rapier in an annual might indicate that there were hopes the character could make more of a splash, but he pretty much disappears from continuity until he's unceremonously killed off a few years later.  

There is too much dialogue overall and the pacing is therefore too slow in places. But Jim Mooney's fight scenes are all fun and the issue does tell a well-constructed story within the parameters of Aristotelian storytelling conventions. It's an advantage that comic books have over many other storytelling mediums: though great artwork might make us pause to dwell on a particular page or panel, comic books are overall a quick read. As long as there is something good, this allows us to overlook faults. 

Next week, we'll visit with Sgt. Rock. 

Cover Cavalcade

  AUGUST IS "THE HEROES OF STREET AND SMITH" MONTH!!!

Here's a 1936 Doc Savage cover by Walter Baumhofer.

Friday's Favorite OTR

 Great Gildersleeve: "Gildy Repairs His Car" 4/4/43

Gildersleeve's car isn't running. Since the local mechanic has been drafted, Gildy decides to repair it himself. What could possibly go wrong?

Click HERE to listen or download. 

Shout-Out to my Awesome Wife

 I maintain this blog, my book-review blog and my BookTube channel because I enjoy geeking out about stuff. I don't make any money off them--my numbers aren't high enough to make doing so possible. I do have a "leave a tip" button on this blog, but I don't really expect anyone to give anything.

I am able to do this and do other geeky things (host occasional game nights, give talks at the public library and for civic organizations) primarily because my wife Angela not only tolerates my geekiness, but supports it. Heck, she let me put a velociraptor in our wedding photo:

She used her extraordinary cross-stitch skills to create this, which is now hanging near our front door:

Heck, she once beat me in an argument about the nature of Color Kid's powers:

She knows me well enough to get me to agree to a Book Challenge detailed in this video:

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When I got married, I knew my life would change and some of the stuff I did as a bachelor would get left behind. I was happy to do this, because Angela is smart and wonderful and far too good for me and I love her. But it turns out there's some stuff I didn't have to give up. She actually loves me for who I am and lets me be geeky when I want to be. This blog still exists because my wife is awesome, so a shout-out to her on this blog is appropriate and long overdue.

By the way, undeniable and objective proof that I love her does exist. She recently called to me while I was watching an episode of Star Trek: The Original Series. I actually paused an episode of Star Trek to see what she needed!!!! This is essentially the geek version of laying down one's life. 

If that's not True Love, I don't know what is.

Snow Skates

 

Bonanza's TV run was fairly straightforward--14 seasons on NBC from 1959 through 1973. Its comic book history is a little less straightforward, but not that complicated. Dell Comics dedicated four issues of Four Color to Bonanza. In 1962, they put out two issues of a dedicated Bonanza series. 

Then Dell had a sort-of messy divorce with Western Publishing, the company that licensed shows and movies, then produced the comics. Dell then distributed the comics. When the two entities parted with one another, Western created its own distribution company they called Gold Key.  Under the Gold Key banner, Western put out their own Bonanza series. It ran for 37 issues, from 1962 to 1970.

We'll look at one of the stories from Four Color #1221 (Sept.-Nov. 1961). 

"The Snow Walkers" was written by Gaylord Du Bois and drawn by Tom Gill. Gill's clear and effective art is part of what makes this story great, bringing De Bois' excellent script to life. 

If I may pause from the story review for a moment, let's give a shout out to Dell/Gold Key writers De Bois and Paul S. Newman. Both men were incredibly prolific and both wrote strong script after strong script in numerous genres. That Dell/Gold Key consistently produced great comics is in large part because of those two men.

Anyway, "Snow Walkers" begins when a detachment of soldiers arrive at the Ponderosa, hoping to buy some horses. Ben Cartwright wants to sell those horses, but declines to take a bank draft in lieu of cash. Later on, he explains why to his three sons. There were a number of things that were off about the soldiers--details about their behavior that didn't line up with usual military behavior.

The soldiers stay the night in a nearby bunkhouse. A blizzard kicks up and a man named Rolf Thornsen arrives at the door to the ranch house, looking to also spend the night. He's an old friend who is taking mail from California to nearby Virginia City. He travels on what he calls "Snow Skates," which we would call skis.

This is the sort of detail that helps mark Du Bois as a great writer. He did his research. At the time of the Wild West, the term "skis" had not yet been coined. "Snow Skates" is in fact what they would have been called.

In the morning, they get proof that the "soldiers" were in fact deserters. They've murdered the man guarding the horse pen and stolen the horses. They've got quite the head start, but Rolf has an idea. He can help the Cartwrights quickly make their own snow skates and they can essentially cut the bad guys off at the pass.

They run the deserters down at a remote cabin used by an old Indian and his daughter. The Indian has been murdered, but his daughter Birdsong hid in the snow and escaped. So the Cartwrights and Rolf don't have to worry about a hostage situation, but the deserters are holed up in a defensible position.

What follows is a well-choreographed action scene, which includes rolling a large boulder into the cabin, Hoss briefly being taken hostage before a well-aimed rifle shot from Little Joe gives him a chance to beat down on the bad guys, and the eventual surrender of those bad guys. 

The story ends with Ben giving the recovered horses to Birdsong so that she'll have a good dowry for the future. 

It is simply a well-told story. If it suffers at all, it's that Adam, Hoss and Little Joe don't have a chance to show off their own unique personalities and are essentially interchangable. Well, Hoss gets to show off his strength, but a live-action episode would have allowed Pernell Roberts, Dan Blocker and Michael Landon to individualize the brothers through their performances. 

But it does show Ben as a smart guy and a strong leader. And Gill's art shows off the action in a way that allows us to always understand what's going on. And the panel showing a murdered man's hand sticking out of the snow is an effective way of showing violent death without being overly gruesome. 

Bonanza was an excellent TV series (well, except for those episodes where one of the brothers falls in love and reminds us of that annoying Cartwright Curse). That the comic book adaptation showed the same skill in telling good stories is very much appreciated by fans of classic TV. 

Next week, we'll check in with Spider-Man. And it's only as I write this sentence that I wonder if I was subconciously led by the release of the new Spider-Man movie to decide to look a Spidey comic. If so, it really doesn't matter. We'll be jumping back to the Bronze Age, not looking at anything new. 

Cover Cavalcade

 AUGUST IS "THE HEROES OF STREET AND SMITH" MONTH!!!

A 1932 Shadow cover by George Rozen.

Friday's Favorite OTR

 Philip Marlowe: "The Sea Horse Jockey" 5/2/50

Marlowe is initially hired to transport a valuable sea-horse shaped brooch to a buyer. But he ends up having to catch a thief and a killer.

Click HERE to listen or download. 

A Second Time Around for Defending a Town

 

My second favorite John Wayne film is Rio Bravo (1959), directed by Howard Hawks. So for years, I was reluctant to watch El Dorado (made in 1966, released in 1967), the loose remake also directed by Hawks and starring Wayne. I figured it couldn't help but be an inferior rehash of the original, despite a strong cast and the same great director. 

But I finally gave in a few years ago and now curse myself for waiting so long. It's not as good as Rio Bravo, but you really don't need to compare them. The later film does hit many of the same plot beats, but it has a personality of its own.

Leigh Brackett, who wrote the screenplays for both films, started by loosely adapting the 1960 novel The Stars in Their Courses, by Harry Brown. At first, she was really happy with it, calling it "the best script I had ever done in my life." But as things moved along, the story morphed into the Rio Bravo remake, which Brackett disliked "because I hate doing things over again." Hawks, though, ran with it and the end result (with all respect to the brilliant Brackett) is pretty darn nifty. He told Robert Mitchum that the film had "No story, just characters." That isn't entirely true. There is a fun, solid storyline running through the movie. But it is the characters that sell it. 

John Wayne is Cole Thornton, a professional gunfighter, who teams with an old friend named J.P. Harrah. Harrah is the sheriff of El Dorado, but he's also fallen into severe alcoholism after an unhappy affair with a woman.

Mitchum's character parallels Dean Martin's character in Rio Bravo. The difference is that Martin's character arc was subordinate to the main plot of defending the town against an evil, powerful rancher. In El Dorado, the plot is almost incidental to the character moments. So Hawks' comment was true to a large extent.

And the supporting cast is wonderful. James Caan played Mississippi, a protege' of Thornton who carries a sawed-off shotgun because he's a lousy shot. Arthur Hunnicutt is the old-time Bull Harris, another ally to the good guys who announces his arrival in town by blaring away on a bugle. Charlene Holt is Maudie, a lady who has eyes for Thornton. Michele Carey is Josephine "Joey" MacDonald, a fiery young lady who is good with a rifle and, during the movie's extended prologue to the main story, shot Thornton. This causes long-term problems, because Thornton still carries around that bullet inside him and it occasionally causes him bouts of crippling pain that paralyzes his gun arm.

Joey, by the way, thought she had good reason to shoot Thornton, but later ends up as another ally.

The villains are Ed Asner as evil rancher Bart Jason. Christopher George, sporting an ugly facial scar and a fast gun, is Jason's main enforcer Nelse McLeod. Together the two actors generate several mega-watts of quiet menace.

There's a lot of humor in the character interactions among the good guys, but Mitchum's arc of pulling himself out of an alcoholic haze and becoming useful again is handled believably. And the action scenes are great. The good guys in this film can be ruthlessly pragmatic--not worried at all about giving their opponents an even chance. There's a scene in which two men attempt to lure Thornton and Mississippi out the back door of a saloon into an ambush. Realizing their intentions, Thornton forces one of the two men out the door to be shot by his own guys. 

There's a shootout in an old church, with the bells being rung by bullet hits, that's fantastic. And the final scene, with Jason holding a hostage inside a saloon while McLeod and Thornton (with a paralyzed gun arm) get ready to face off just outside that saloon, is a wonderful finale. 

Sidenote: Is Wayne's character having a paralyzed arm a metaphor for the fact that both the star and the genre were aging and more fragile than they used to be? Something to think about. 

In the 1960s and the early 1970s, Wayne was experienced enough in making Westerns to turn out one solidly entertaining movie after another. 1969 brought us his third best movie with True Grit, but we also got El Dorado, Big Jake, Cahill U.S. Marshall, The War Wagon, The Train Robbers, Chisum, and The Sons of Katie Elder. These movies aren't among the classics, but the world would be a poorer place without them.

Poisoned Waterholes and Desert Heat

 

cover art by Luis Dominguez

A man escapes from prison after poisoning a guard, then poisons waterholes as he escapes across the desert, at one point leaving two people, including a child, to die after taking their canteen. 

So what we have is the typical sort of ruthless killer that Jonah Hex normally tracks down. But two things make Teddy "The Gentleman Killer" Chandler a particularly interesting villain. First, he has a companion who shows compassion and regret towards the victims, but still remains inexplicably loyal to Chandler.

Second, late in the story, we learn Chandler's interesting backstory. He wasn't always an animal. In fact, he was in prison because he killed a man when his companion, a black man named Orion, was about to be lynched. Chandler saved Orion's life. That's why Orion, a God-fearing man, remains loyal to him.

It all gives Chandler a dimensionality that the bad guys in Hex's stories often lack. That, combined with John Albano's tightly-written script and Tony DeZuniga's atmospheric art, make this a particularly notable issue.

The story (from Weird Western Tales #19--September/October 1973) begins with the prison breakout. Orion is waiting nearby with horses, but is shocked to learn that the poison he smuggled to Chandler was used to kill a human being rather than rats. Chandler begins poisoning waterholes while they make a getaway to discourage pursuit. 

 

Jonah finds them by chance, but recognizes the prison uniform that Chandler is wearing. He wounds Chandler, taking him and Orion prisoner. But when they find a wagon that had been attacked by Comanches. The two adults are dead, but a young boy is still alive. Unfortunately for Jonah and the boy, Chandler gets hold of a gun. He gets the drop on Jonah, leaving him (and the boy) with no weapons, horses or water. Orion, though, drops a canteen as he and Chandler ride off.

It's here that we get a reminder of a usually hidden aspect of Jonah Hex's personality. He manages to bring the boy to a ranch, but does so by saving all the water in the canteen for that boy, leaving him nearly dead before the journey is over. Later, when he rides off after Chandler, the lady of the ranch remarks how kind and gentle he is. And she's right, though Jonah would have been angered if he heard her say it. He does have moments where his better nature takes hold. The ruthless bounty hunter does indeed have his kind and gentle moments.

In the meantime, Chandler shoots Orion in order to save on water consumption. When Jonah finds Orion, the black man explains Chandler's backstory and forgives his killer before he dies. 

The story ends with Jonah relentlessly pursuing Chandler, only for the escaped killer to die when he runs out of water and desperately drinks from a waterhole he had earlier poisoned. He dies laughing at the irony of it.

It's a stand-out story from an excellent series. It's not a criticism to say that most of the outlaws that Jonah runs down are ruthless killers. So is Chandler, but his background--possibly a good man stripped of his humanity while in prison--and the counterpoint of Orion's gentle nature, make this tale particularly notable.

Next week, we'll visit with the Cartwright family to see how well Bonanza translates into comic book form.