Tales from the Darkside Season 3: Episodes 17 through 22

Season One begins here
Season Two begins here
Season three episodes 1 through 7 appear here
Season three episodes 8 through 16 appear here


"Everybody Needs a Little Love." (First aired 22 February 1987) Directed by John Harrison. Screenplay by Harrison from a short story by Robert Bloch. Starring Jarry Orbach, Richard Portnow and Teresa L. Jones. 7/10

"Should've been just another Thursday."

Divorced man Roberts spends his evenings at the local watering hole. One night he goes home with drinking buddy Curtis who has hijacked a display mannequin from work. An evening of hilarity between two drunk and lonely men brings out some odd emotions, and at the end of the night, while Curtis dances with the mannequin, Roberts feels oddly jealous and a bit of a third wheel. Yet what was supposed to be a silly night of fun turns truly weird when Curtis ends up moving in with the dame, and confides to Roberts that she does not let him do anything. Based on a more recent short story by the great Robert Bloch; it is the second of three stories adapted for Darkside. Interestingly, the three adapted stories are from varying points of his career: "Beetles" (Weird Tales, December 1938), "A Case of the Stubborns" (Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, October 1976), and "Everybody Needs a Little Love," which was still fresh at the time, originally published in the first installment of Jerry Williamson's successful anthology series Masques in 1984.

Using elements of film noir, from the interrogation framing, liberal use of smoke (mostly from cigarettes), delivery of lines, jazzy music and shadows, "Everybody" is an excellent episode with strong performances by busy character actors Jerry Orbach as narrator Roberts, and Richard Portnow as Curtis, as well as good use of the mannequin, with some nice shading and good editing that help give it the semblance of life. Indeed, with his thirteen years as Detective Lennie Briscoe on Law & Order, we easily forget what a talented actor Orbach was. Director & writer John Harrison, the man behind the terrible "The Satanic Piano," including its awful music, does a great job with the script, and does well in keeping many of Robert Bloch's own words which translate well onto screen and into Orbach's mouth.


"Auld Acquaintances." (First aired 1 March 1987) Directed by Richard Friedman. Written by Edithe Swensen. Starring Sally Gracie and Linda Thorson. 4/10

Two witches from Salem, Massachusetts, meet every year or so to exchange the precious amulet that gives the wearer great success. Not much happens here, just some dialogue that paints a portrait of eighteenth century Salem as though Arthur Miller's The Crucible were the most reliable historical document for the period. Even character names are appropriated, and I couldn't tell if it were for fun, an attempt at cleverness, or if this appropriation was an honest form of research. All in all a poor episode, with some lukewarm attempts at humour, though the pair of unfamiliar actresses do well in their respective roles.


"The Social Climber." (First aired 8 March 1987) Directed by Armand Mastroianni. Written by Ellen Sandhaus. Starring Albert Hague, Robert Romanus, Talia Balsam and Leslie Chain. 3/10

Apprentice shoemaker Rob dreams about making a fortune and living the life of the social elite. He stumbles upon a pair of shoes that, thanks to the (unexplained) magical touch of his employer, offers him a route to this dream. Meanwhile his doting fiancée Gail is saving up for their life together, while his employer reassures him that he is living the life he is destined for. We must live the lives we are destined to live, this little story is saying, as though life and destiny were simple matters. Thematically obvious as well as thematically flawed: it negates the idea that we should make the best of our lives and attempt to achieve something of importance, but we should instead squander our time within the meagre boundaries we were born into. The magic is too broad, in the sense that the writers feel they can get away with anything they want simply because it is magical, while viewers like me groan and quickly lose interest.

The magic involves some special little nails hammered into the appropriate shoes, which give its wearer the ability to achieve fortune. When Rob puts the shoes on his entire dress is suddenly transformed, and even his hair is different, so that the shoe is not destined for a specific individual, but works its magical wonders on whoever happens to be wearing them. Yet [spoiler] when Rob wears the shoes that are destined for a specific individual, and we learn that the specific shoe-owning individual has died, Rob too dies. This twist makes no sense; it has nothing to do with anything. Essentially it indicates that the wearer affects the shoes, yet what does the nail pounded into the shoe have anything to do with the person who has ordered those shoes? If you ask me to review your story and I do so with my magical keyboard, but a third party sneaks in and changes the review to his story, so that when you die he also ends up dying... How idiotic; this nonsense is truly headache-inducing.


"The Swap." (First aired 3 May 1987) Directed by John Drury. Written by Richard Benner. 6/10

"You don't want to be an ugly old frog all your life, do you?"

The first of two Darkside collaborations between John Drury (the only thing he seems to have directed) and writer Richard Benner is a good effort; a common though neat idea that has many problems in its rendering. In the Louisiana bayou, be-warted son of a witch Bubba (successful stage actor Charles Ludlam, who passed away three weeks after the episode first aired) is searching for the missing ingredient to a potion that would transfer his soul to a more attractive, and younger, body. His beautiful wife Annabelle (Maria Manuche) has married him for his money (his departed mother had "found" oil in the bayou swamp), but in accordance to their marriage contract must suffer her ugly husband's lustful desires night after night or forfeit the inheritance. And of course she would rather be bedding studly handyman Claude Altoose (James Wlcek). Meanwhile, the Louisiana sanctity of marriage, as well their own contract with its many clauses, are overseen by Judge Jean Baptiste (Timothy Jenkins). All of these details are clearly rendered, and it appears to be a good, methodical script that manages to maintain a smoothly flowing plot as it divulges the complexities of this triangle (or square, if you include the judge). However, the episode suffers from being painfully slow, with the final denouement running for too many minutes, that despite some suspense at the half-way point, we end up figuring out far too early what is really going on, leaving the latter part plainly uninteresting.

The set and direction are good, though Claude's own room is just silly and a little too colourful; clearly not a room his character would have lived in. The play opens up with a shot of Bubba's mother, nicely framed, and soon reveals glassed-in bullfrog, and the camera pans over to a pretty little caged cockatoo. We listen to Bubba's voice-over, and when we see his warty hand we immediately link him to the bullfrog wishing to be a cockatoo. Nicely done indeed. There are a number of good visuals and other allusions to this effect, such as Annabelle calling Bubba a "bull" and the thin and blonde Annabelle's own likeness to a cockatoo (her name, in essence, is "the beautiful Anna"). The Louisiana accents are too much and at times uneven, while the sound is of poor quality, with Bubba's voice drowned out during the opening scenes. Too bad since this could have been a really good one.


"Let the Games Begin." (First aired 10 May 1987) Directed by John Lewis. Written by Peter O'Keefe. Starring David Groh, Jane Summerhays, Earl Hindman and Willie Reale. 2/10

Drunk in the honeymoon suite following the reunion of his high school class of 1958, Harry Carson suffers a heart attack and dies. It seems a straightforward act, yet there is some confusion between the minions of heaven and of hell as to which realm he must now ascend, or descend. Hilarity ensues. Well, not really, but that's probably what the directions in the sad little teleplay called for. Director John Lewis tries his best, with a few nice mirror shots (notice early on the warped figures of Carson and the bellboy to the right of the screen), but there is so little to work with that the episode is an embarrassing mess. While David Groh as the angel and Earl Hindman as Carson (Mr. Wilson from Home Improvement) are fine in their roles, successful broadway star Jane Summerhays is at times painful to watch. Overall among the worst of the Darksides.


"The Enormous Radio." (First aired 17 May 1987) Directed by Bill Travis. Written by Guy Gallo from the short story by John Cheever. Starring Christine Estabrook, John Rothman and an enormous radio. 7/10

With their brand new, top of the line, enormous radio, Jim and Irene can listen in on their neighbours' apartments. What begins as a little fun becomes for Irene an obsession, as she begins to see that people all over do little else than suffer. Based on the often anthologised short story by popular American writer John Cheever, this teleplay once again proves that Darkside produces better episodes when adapting short stories. There is nothing shocking plot-wise, yet this is among the most horrific episodes in that it's philosophy reveals that humans are destined to treat one another poorly; we are prone to gossip, to cheating and stealing, and becoming aware of the vices of others is an act of becoming aware of our own. People are alike all over, and our similarities are seen through our selfishness, lack of self-control, and our base treatment of those around us. The final shot is terrific, with the arguing voices of Irene and Jim playing ironically alongside the lovely music of the "Ode to Joy."

The set is well constructed. The home is tastefully decorated with every detail eliciting the 1950s, from the rotary telephone to the issue of Life Magazine that sits on the coffee table. There are also some fine establishing shots that open the play, from the smiling faces of contented Irene and Jim as they listen to Schubert, to the mixing of drinks, neat little radio and everything else that points to a comfortable home. Actress Christine Estabrook is excellent (and attractive) as Irene, while character actor John Rothman is a little uneven as Jim (Rothman had a small part in season one's "The Tear Collector"). There is also a brief cameo by successful Irish stage actress Kate O'Toole.

Tales from the Darkside Season 3: Episodes 8 through 16

Season One begins here
Season Two begins here
Season three episodes 1 through 7 appear here
Season three episodes 16 through 22 appear here


A fairly strong first third of Darkside's third season is followed by some truly weak episodes. What is striking in season three is the throw-away attitude toward magic. Several episodes use magic in an utterly sloppy way: it is merely a device to not only trigger the story or progress plot, but often to manipulate plot, allowing for the magic to do whatever the writer wishes in a kind of deus ex machina. This sort of practice is unfair to the viewer, manipulating expectations and such.


"A Serpent's Tooth." (First aired 16 November 1986) Directed by Frank De Palma. Written by Edithe Swensen. Starring Renée Taylor, Louis Quinn, JoAnn Willette and some other unknowns.

Following the poor "Heretic" we have yet another weak entry penned by Edithe Swensen. In this, yet another attempt at laughs, an overbearing stereotypical Jewish mother receives help from the magic of a serpent's tooth. With this tooth she is able to direct her son away from his intended career, and pretty much enslave her daughter with notions of housewifery. There is no sense, no real point, and certainly no laughs to be had in this poor episode. The characters are not terribly interesting and the situation is pure fluff. It is not among the truly horrible episodes, since Renée Taylor is somewhat decent as the mother while JoAnn Willette's hair is pretty neat. 4/10


"Baker's Dozen." (First aired 23 November 1986) Directed by John Harrison. Written by George A. Romero from a story by Scott Edelman. Starring Mabel King, Larry Manetti, Vernon Washington and Therese Pare.

Advertising guru Henry Hogan believes he can transform Ruby Cuzzins's wonderful bakery Cuzzins' Dozens into an empire. Yet he is warned by Ruby's slaving husband Aloysius Cuzzins to beware, while being handed a dozen special cookies. These special cookies, in the shape of little people, allow the owner to harm others, which Hogan apparently has no qualms doing. This episode makes no sense, and is a fine example of how magic is used to simply to allow the writer all the freedom possible to fiction.

[Spoilers] First of all, the cookies have no designation in the sense that they do not individually represent specific people, yet when a particular cookie is used, even accidentally, if harms the person required for plot purposes; when Hogan's wife Helen crumbles the cookie left in the bag, who is to say that that particular was designed to represent Hogan himself, especially since Hogan no doubt would have used it against someone completely different. Is it that Hogan was on his wife's mind at the time? Moreover, if Aloysius had the thirteenth cookie all along (the baker's dozen extra), why does he wait until the very end to dispose of Ruby? He's been wanting since the beginning to be free from her, and waiting as he does simply allowed for much blood to be unnecessarily spilled. Realistically, he would have used the cookie against Ruby much sooner, especially since he had easy access to these special baked goods all along. Not only would he have been free long ago, but more importantly he would spared Darkside viewers from watching this painful drivel. Poor acting, a lame script and a load of nonsense does not a good program make. Hogan is played by Magnum P.I.'s Larry Manetti, his second appearance on Darkside (he was the lead in season two's ho-hum "Printer's Devil") Ruby is (over)played by Mabel King, though the script calls for exaggerration in stereotypical form. 4/10


"Deliver Us from Goodness." (First aired 30 November 1986) Directed by Warner Shook. Written by Jule Selbo from a short story by Suzette Haden Elgin. Starring Kaiulani Lee, Steve Vinivich, Mary Louise Wilson and Jane Adams.

Among the worst episodes ever produced for Darkside. During her husband's mayoral campaign, Mrs. Valerie Cantrell discovers she is a saint, and does her best to lose her saintliness in order to be a normal wife and mother. Not only is the play painfully unfunny, it is simply uninteresting and the acting requires no effort, just those silly expressions of shock when something supernatural occurs. The glowing and heavenly music is overused and dull. The only thing worth watching is Jane Adams as daughter Charlotte Rose Cantrell, who manages to take this awful business seriously and nonetheless give a good performance. 2/10


"Seasons of Belief." (First aired 29 December 1986) Directed by Michael McDowell. Written by McDowell from a story by Michael Bishop. Starring E.G. Marshall, Margaret Klenck, Mark Capri and a couple of annoying kids, including sitcom actress Jenna von Oÿ.

Ahhhh, the Christmas episode. There was a month hiatus since the last Darkside episode, though likely due to special programming. The nuclear family is sitting around the family room on Christmas Eve, with spoiled children Jimbo and Stefa growing quickly bored and wanting to watch TV. Well, clever and creative mom and dad decide instead to collaborate on a scary story about the Grither, a creature that lives in a cave at the North Pole. Now, don't say his name aloud, because he will hear you and make his way toward you.

The talented E.G. Marshall looks more like grandad than dad, and some of mom's knowing glances are a little irritating. The episode does manage to deliver something rare, which is to produce a Christmas episode that was actually Christmassy. Sure there's some Christmas music, a few presents, but really it is the portrayal of family togetherness and the cozy setting with the relentless winter outside. Also, there's a great last line. Of course this Christmas ends up being memorable for reasons other than family togetherness, but since it is Christmas we should allow for a few surprises. 6/10


"Miss May Dusa." (First aired 18 January 1987) Directed and written by Richard Blackburn. Starring Sofia Landon Geier and Gary Majchrazak.

A store mannequin suddenly awakens and, running scared, meets a subway saxophone player. The two outcasts and soon become attracted to each other, while the young musician tries to help the strange woman overcome her amnesia. The first (and perhaps only) episode that is solely written and directed by the same person. Richard Blackburn does not have much credited to his career in video, most notably as co-writer of the popular film Eating Raoul, but does a good job with this quiet Darkside episode. Most of the play focuses on dialogue between the two characters, centred around musician Jimmy James trying his best to uncover the secret of mannequin May Dusa. While this sounds dull focus for an entire episode, it works well, with actors Sofia Landon Geier and Gary Majchrazak doing a good job acting while looking their parts. (Interestingly, Montrealer Geier was a long-time writer for long-running soap Days of Our Lives.) Moreover, thanks to the jazzy saxophone we are spared the 80s TV music. 6/10


"The Milkman Cometh." (First aired on 25 January 1987) Directed by John Strysik. Written by Donald Wollner from a story by Charles Grant Craig. Starring Robert Forster, Seymour Cassel, Shannon Wilcox, Chad Allen and Barbara Sloane.

"Maybe you shouldn't get things from the milkman anymore."

Advertising artist Garry Cooley is struggling to make ends meet, and his wife Ruth is pressuring him to ask for a raise. Yet things suddenly start getting better when Garry puts into action some advice that was being passed around the rumour mill: when in need of something, anything, just request it from the milkman. Garry soon becomes a little too needy though, and begins to ask for more than just money. Unfortunately, the milkman tends to interpret less than straightforward requests in his own peculiar way. A great episode, suspenseful and well written, with a nice pleading moment from Garry to the milkman, and several scenes of tension between Garry and others. Robert Forster is well cast in the lead, with good support from Shannon Wilcox as wife Ruth, and Seymour Cassel as friend and fellow milkman "client."

The opening sequence of Cooley working on a campaign for breaded fishsticks is a nice touch, watching as the subtle little dots and lines he is adding help the cartoon come alive. I'm not sure what, if anything, this has to do with the rest of the episode, but it's a good way to nab the viewer's attention. 7/10


"My Ghostwriter - The Vampire." (First aired 1 February 1987) Directed by Frank De Palma. Written by Peter O'Keefe from yet another story by Scott Edelman. Starring Jeff Conaway, Roy Dotrice and Jillie Mack.

Struggling hack writer Peter Prentice receives a unique opportunity from a vampire: In exchange for room and board, Count Jeffrey Draco will recount (pun intended) his various life experiences so that Prentice could use them for what is sure to be a massive best seller. While the idea could have been well rendered, you can count on some bad comedy and haphazard notions of magic to once again get in the way.

For bad comedy we have a script by Peter O'Keefe, who will later in the season be privileged to offer up one of the worst Darkside episodes yet ("Let the Games Begin"). The script is from a story by Scott Edelman, whose previous story idea in "Baker's Dozen" was also poorly scripted. As for magic, the idea of blood mixing with the ashes of a vampire to revive the creature to its previous fleshy form is poorly used. The idea itself is idiotic (though I know only the basics of vampire lore and perhaps this is part of some legend outside Bram Stoker's Dracula, which I am familiar with), yet the set-up is so poorly contrived that not only do we know how this silly play will wrap up, the blood dripping wound is, all in all, quite a pathetic moment. Jeff Conaway is passable as Prentice. Roy Dotrice makes a fine vampire, but Jillie Mack is a little annoying. 4/10


"My Own Place." (First aired 8 February 1987) Directed by Theodore Gershuny. Written by Gershuny and Perry Lang. Starring Perry Lang, Harsh Nayyar, Nancy Travis and Bina Sharif.

A young urban professional rents a snazzy apartment in a rent-controlled building in New York City. Having wanted all his life to have his own place, he is soon driven to incredible bouts of anger and frustration by the strange Indian man named Ram who appears when no one else is around.

This episode is undecided. It can't figure out whether it is trying to be funny, mysterious or creepy, and thereby fails on all three counts. Whereas it appears light there is no humour; while the presence of the man is strange we've seen this kind of thing so often that it is tiring; and even though we are tossed a few images of dusty India, these seem so random that we are too confused to feel any creepiness whatsoever. The story is a muddled mess, with two lives interchanging... but no they don't, since one of them disappears. It's about finding your own path, as the Indian says to the American... no, the American is clearly on no path of his own but is being strangely manipulated. It's really about... no, I just don't care to even speculate. The episode is poorly written, with some needless and annoying repetition ("You are afraid") that seems to hint at a purpose but goes nowhere (we never discover what this dear might be).

It is written (or haphazardly scrawled) by the lead actor, a certain Perry Lang who is best known for... oh look, he directed himself in a Dolph Lundgren movie from the mid-1990s (that dark period that was hard on all action stars from the 1980s). Harsh Nayyar (Ram) was the annoying vampire in the episode "Strange Love." Nancy Travis, however, has a solid career, is the only thing worth looking at here, and oddly enough re-united shortly hereafter with Lang in the fine John Sayles film Eight Men Out. What is interesting about this episode is that it not only begins with an outdoor shot, but with a character in the great outdoors riding his bicycle, and another brief outdoor shot is included following the first act. 4/10


"Red Leader." (First aired 15 February 1987) Directed by John Harrison. Written by Edithe Swensen. Starring Joe E. Tata, Brioni Farrell, Carmine Caridi and Peter Bromilow.

After the death of his partner, corrupt businessman Alex Hayes sets out to control the company. Yet things get complicated when his dead former partner jackhammers his way up through the floor, and "Red Leader" is close behind, wanting to recruit Hayes among the ranks of hell's minions. Another lacklustre episode penned by Edithe Swensen. The situation is uninteresting and the plot tiresome, unfunny and predictable. Performances are also weak, in particular Athenian Brioni Farrell as widow Amanda Caine, and Brit Peter Bromilow who is a strange, almost effeminate "Red Leader." 2/10

Tales from the Darkside Season 3: Episodes 1 through 7

[Edited on 1 August 2011: formatting, minor text changes, new screenshots.]

Season One begins here
Season Two begins here
Season three episodes 8 through 16 appear here
Season three episodes 16 through 22 appear here

Season three of Tales from the Darkside is a bit of an oddity. Despite boasting the strongest season opening, as well as in perhaps the greatest Darkside episode of all seasons with "The Geezenstacks," it is by lengths and miles the weakest of the show's seasons. Yes, there were some gems, as with "Everybody Needs a Little Love" and "The Milkman Cometh," but there was also a large emphasis on humour that is painfully unfunny, on angels and devils and dull predictability, bad writing and unfortunate attempts at acting. Some episodes were so dull, in fact, that I wasn't even motivated to capture any screen shots. (But the good ones get two.)


"Circus." (First aired 28 September 1986) Directed by Michael Gornick. Written by George A. Romero from a short story by Sydney J. Bounds. Starring William Hickey, Kevin O'Connor and Ed French. 8/10

"There is always the unexpected, isn't there, Mr. Bragg?" Cynical newspaperman Bragg visits a mysterious side-show circus that boasts as its attractions such legendary terror figures as a vampire, a wolf-man and a re-animated corpse. For the first time in three seasons Darkside gets it right by leading in with a great episode. This is a fine example of a serious episode whose inherent black humour is effective. Especially in its third season, Darkside unfortunately wasted plenty of original or unusual ideas by emphasizing on humour rather than on simply accepting the unusual and focusing on its serious undertones, whether they be grand or simple, straightforward themes.

"Circus" is base upon a short story by English author Sydney J. Bounds, prolific yet mostly forgotten, who was long kept in print through those great Fontana Books of Great Horror Stories and even a few of the New Writings in SF. I haven't read "Circus" but will try to seek out a copy (please let me know if you have one).

"Circus" is an adaptable story with great visual potential, and Darkside seemingly invested more money in this episode than in most others. There is a sparse though well designed set, a good deal of make-up, a pair of dogs, a dead rat, and despite only two speaking parts, there are several onscreen actors/extras. The story is well adapted by Romero, the dialogue dripping in thematic notions of imagination, youth and moral corruption ("Think of the children!"), all tied in with the importance of that sense of wonder that no fact-based paper can provide. The make-up is excellent, from the over-rippled vampire to the dirty lycanthrope and darkly-comical re-animated corpse (essentially Dr. Frankenstein's monster). All of these elements are well supported by strong performances by Kevin O'Connor as Bragg, who is best known for his role as Woody in the indie Let's Scare Jessica to Death, and William Hickey as Dr. Nis, and a great bit-part by David Thornton as the werewolf.

"Perhaps my circus does provide some useful service. And as for the children... what better time to develop a sense of wonder than one's youth, before it's too late."


"I Can't Help Saying Goodbye." (First aired 5 October 1986) Directed by John Strysik. Written by Jule Selbo from a story by Ann MacKenzie. Starring Brian Benben, Loren Cedar, Alison Sweeney and Helen Duffy. 3/10

Little Karen seems to know when someone is about to die, and can't help but say goodbye. Needless to say creeping everyone out in the process. This episode may have worked but the pacing is completely off; it takes too long to get to the premise, with several minutes of filler chatter in an attempt to make us care for the characters. Moreover, the poor acting, terrible music and terribly used music (the girl has her own theme) make "Goodbye" an incredible disappointment as a follow-up to the excellent "Circus." The ending could work, and could work well in illustrating that the girl is merely a victim not only of her "gift" but of the creeped-out people around her. Unfortunately, by the time we arrive to the last frame, we just don't care how it'll end. Goodbye... Goodbye...


"The Bitterest Pill." (First aired 12 October 1986) Directed by Bryan Michael Stoller. Written by Jule Selbo (yet again, to my dismay) from a story by science fiction veteran Frederik Pohl. Starring some average people. 2/10

A family wins a lottery prize of ten million dollars and are hounded by people wanting them to finance their projects; so intensely hounded that they need to hire their own private security guard who remains stationed at the front door. Now, with ten million you think the family could move into a place a little more secure than your average middle-class suburban house. Or get a security guard with some muscle. Well, I suppose less intimidating security is required, since good security would have kept Uncle Tinker out, and we wouldn't have had an episode and we would've been better off.

So, in comes Uncle Tinker (Mark Blankfield) with his latest invention: a pill that opens up the subconscious so that a person has instant recall. I'm not terribly familiar with the works of prolific science fiction and fantasy author Frederik Pohl, so I can't imagine what his original take on the idea was, but the situation it is worked into here is not the most effective in illustrating its various possibilities. The episode is painfully unfunny, poorly acted and is one of the truly darker blemishes of Darkside's entire run.

The short story was first published in Galaxy Magazine, April 1959.


"Florence Bravo." (First aired on 19 October 1986) Directed by John Lewis. Written by Edithe Swensen. Starring Lori Cardille, David Hayward, Carol Levy and Lauren Klein. 6/10

"It's a very colourful story."

The episode credits open to a room with covered furniture, the white dust sheets immediately implying the presence of a ghost. As the credits end and the camera settles on some grimy French doors, a young agent appears to show the unoccupied house to Dr. David McCall (David Hayward) and his wife Emily (Lori Cardille, Sarah from Romero's Day of the Dead), and as they exit Act I, the boom mike is clearly visible on the top left corner. We soon learn (thanks partly to the mike) that Emily had a recent breakdown, and so the couple is here to recover, wishing to start their lives afresh. Yet how can they, as the couple soon becomes a trio when the expected ghost appears, one Florence Bravo, a feminist of the days of yore. A good episode despite its predictability, the fact that Dr. McCall is a dead ringer for Geraldo Rivera, and I doubt that old rusted gun would have worked.


"The Geezenstacks." (First aired on 26 October 1986) Directed by Bill Travis. Written by Nancy Doyne from a short story by Frederic Brown. Starring Craig Wasson, Tandy Cronin, Larry Pine, Lana Hirsch and Stephanie Cassel. 9/10

"Sometimes people get confused about dolls."

Uncle Richard gives little Audrey a gorgeous doll house that was left abandoned in a deserted people house. Audrey is immediately taken by the neat little dolls and their nice home, and right off the bat refers to the family as the Geezenstacks. Learned it directly from them, she insists. "Here's Mr. Geezenstack, here's Mrs. Geezenstack, here's little Audrey Geezenstack and here's Uncle Richard." Mother Edith believes Audrey is just imagining as children do, but father Sam feels there is something truly odd about the little house and its creepy inhabitants.

If only other Darkside episodes were half as good as "The Geezenstacks." This fine little play stands out on so many levels, and it's great that this was aired as the Halloween episode for 1986. First off, the dolls and their house are just gorgeous; even I would own a set. The plot progression, script adaptation by Nancy Doyne from a superb short story by Frederic Brown combine for solid story-telling. (Indeed, many of Brown's original stories made it to television, including four episodes of the original Alfred Hitchcock Presents and two for Tales of Tomorrow, as well as a story credit for the popular Star Trek episode "Arena.") Moreover, there is some fine cinematography and good camera work, but what truly brings this above the mold is the excellent music, that wonderfully creepy semi-tonal string music (to replace the awful synthesized music of most other Darkside episodes). The strings begin in simple repetitive form, but soon increases in complexity and intensity, and moreover is even enhanced in contrast to Audrey's screechy violin practice.

As far as story is concerned, there are so many interesting elements that keep the suspense mounting and the ending unpredictable. We follow Sam Hummell as he suspects something odd about the dolls and about little Audrey's relationship to them. It's their eyes, certainly, nearly human and staring right at you, but it's also Audrey's intense playing, her wanting to punish them for misbehaving, her insistence that she just knows things about them. Craig Wasson is well cast as Sam Hummell. He plays the part with an almost comic air, the businessman father who is naive of home matters, who dotes on his daughter as a sitcom dad would dote on the baby girl of the family. But when his baby girl becomes a little creepy, and he tries poorly, as an unpracticed dad would, to communicate with her, his comedic smile and eyeball stare are replaced by utter terror, frazzled hair and pleading, fear-infused eyes.

There is a stunning scene when Sam rises in the middle of the night and heads downstairs to see the dollhouse. Perhaps the minute is filler but it is incredibly well done, nicely dark and methodical, allowing that great music to shine through the mounting suspense. And that ending is just fabulous. Perhaps the best Darkside episode of any season.

"Sam's gotten all wound up about those dolls."

"Black Widows." (First aired on 2 November 1986) Directed by Karl Epstein. Written by Michael McDowell. Starring Margaret O'Brien, Audrey Webster, Paul Eiding and Joe D'Angerio. 6/10

The humour almost works in this one, though the concept is far greater than the execution. Audrey Webster lives with her shut-in mother Mildred in a mobile home. While Ashley heads off to work, excited about her upcoming wedding, Mildred sits at home watching TV and chatting with the Reverend Joy and whatever unlucky salesman happens to come by. Unlucky because, unbeknown to her daughter, Mildred is an arachnid.

This episode features some interesting (yet unimportant) events. It is one of the few episodes to open with an outdoor establishing shot, though many remaining season three episodes use the same set-up. Second week in a row the daughter's name is Audrey, who in this case is played by an actress named Audrey. As for the cast, Mildred is played by legendary Margaret O'Brien, the memorable Tootie from Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), Beth from the great Little Women (1949) and many other films and television appearances. Moreover, frequent voice actor Paul Eiding as Reverend Joy is a pleasure to watch.


"Heretic." (First aired on 9 November 1986) Directed by Gerald Cotts. Written by Edithe Swensen. Starring Roberts Blossom, Bruce MacVittie, Michael O'Hare and Alan Scarfe. 3/10

Sleazy medieval art dealer Harte receives his latest (stolen) prize: a sixteenth century tempera painting with a lovely scene re-enacting a moment of the inquisition. Since this is an episode of Darkside, we immediately expect our protagonist to get trapped in the painting. Lo and behold there is lots of smoke and a figure appears to take Harte to the inquisition, where the kindly Inquisitor gives him a chance to redeem himself. This is where the episode moves from being bland to being plain idiotic: Harte believes the magic and the warning, is absolutely terrified of the punishment should he fail to change, and yet despite being pursued by magic, he tries to pack a suitcase and flee. Yes, an actual earthly suitcase, as though it can ward off both magic and the evils of the Inquisition. Of course, as we have learned over the course of the series, people cannot change. And as we have come to expect, the characters suffer their horrible fates regardless of logic or sense.

Another weak, paint-by-numbers episode. The idea is not too original, yet in a medium lacking in originality, the problem here is that it is not originally done. Camera work and directing are tired, and the acting (excepting Roberts Blossom as the Inquisitor) is quite poor, with Bruce MacVittie giving us a generic rising bad guy in Harte.

Ellery Queen (Charles W. Runyon), The Last Score (1964)

Queen, Ellery (Charles W. Runyon), The Last Score, NY: Pocket Books 50486, 15 October 1964. 165 pp
______. The Last Score & Beware the Young Stranger, NY: Signet Double Mystery (AE1307), October 1978. 158 pp


For detailed information on EQ and a bibliography of works, please visit World's Best Detective Crime and Murder Mystery Books.


As is now common knowledge, though kept from the public for many years, "Ellery Queen" was composed of two men, cousins Frederic Dannay and Manfred Lee (born Daniel Nathan and Manford Emanuel Lepofsky, respectively). Rather than creating a character, they created what has become essentially a brand, as the ever-churning EQ machine included innumerable novels, short stories, a still-running popular magazine, a TV series and several movies, along with a series of anthologies. Throughout the 1960s a number of young, up-and-coming writers ghosted as Ellery Queen. This was partly due to the fact that Lee suffered a series of heart attacks and was unable to work. Some of the ghosted novels were based on treatments that Lee had done, or at least begun.

The Last Score is considered among the strongest of these ghosted novels. It was written by little-known Charles W. Runyon (b. 1928), who wrote in a variety of genres, including three novels as Ellery Queen: The Last Score (1964), The Killer Touch (1965) and Kiss and Kill (1969).

In The Last Score, Adventure traveller and guide Reid Rance is approached by wealthy socialite May Gibson with a request to take her youngest daughter Leslie on a field trip through Mexico. Not wishing to babysit a seventeen year-old, Reid tries to evade the task, but alas cannot, since there would otherwise be no novel. While in Mexico he does his best to fend off the teen's sexy come-ons while teaching her proper behaviour south of the border, until one night Leslie disappears. It turns out she has been kidnapped, and Rance must go through one hell of a ride to get her back.

The novel is surprisingly well written, with solid prose, good character consistency and development, and an unusual amount of experimentation, which does lead to a certain amount of unevenness in tone, but also adds to the book's appeal. The first third of the novel is overly long and a little flat, as it consists of Reid fending off the feisty Leslie, yet once she is kidnapped we speed along through drugs, money, romance and a nice array of bad dudes (despite the acts of violence, I think real-life drug cartels would do much worse than this gang, and probably get away with it too). Surprisingly and even oddly, during the novel's last third the point of view shifts from Rance to Leslie's half-sister Karen Frankel, then to Leslie herself until finally, to cap off an exciting ride, for a few pages we are treated to the inside of El Delgado (the Thin One), our head bad dude, as Runyon escalates the drama with some stream of consciousness, wanting us to understand what has driven Delgado to the life he has been leading.

The novel's single greatest achievement, however, is Runyon's portrayal of a Reid high on some strong pot. Reid is forced to smoke while with the enemy, and his shifting thought processes are well recorded. Despite the accurateness of his descriptions and my assumption that Runyon has toked a little in his time, the novel does feature a clear anti-dope attitude, firmly entrenched in the belief that a little pot leads to a lot of heroin. There is a long lecture early on, with Rance doing his best to frighten the unconvinced Leslie away from her desire to try the stuff. Moreover, her kidnapping is a direct result of this desire. It is, of course, entirely possible that this anti-doping message was forced into the book by the publishers, so I won't speculate needlessly on Runyon's own opinions.

The Last Score presents us with a world of men. Reid Rance is a manly tough-guy with some good sense and a dash of sensitivity (and a cool name, though perhaps a little to Harlequin-esque). He falls not for the hungry, attractive Leslie but prefers the challenge of her older half-sister, sexy feminist journalist Karen Frankel. Other men are tough but lacking Rance's firmly established sense of morality, from the colourful bad guys to the deadly Delgado and the competent Mexican Lieutenant we meet later on. Rance is set up early on in contrast with his standard clients, all pretend men who want a week or so away from their urban nine-to-five selves in order to play tough toreador or crocodile hunter. Rance is the real thing, along with the heart of a noble gentleman.

And though the women can be feminists they remain mostly feminine. Karen learns to drop much of her feminist front and lets her hair down (figuratively as well as literally), becoming more and more feminine and clearly falling for good man Reid.

Credit goes to Runyon for including a few solid good Mexican men and therefore avoiding stereotypes, from Felipe, the youthful victim of the American dream, to the sympatheric cab driver Salvador and the focused Lieutenant who helps save the day. Moreover, [spoiler alert] we learn that villain El Delgado is actually American.

There are no real surprises with how the novel ends, but a quick and fun read it is. Shortening it down to novella length would make for a great read, but with the extra padding The Last Score remains an interesting contemporary exploration of the 1960s culture of marijuana as well as gender. Though nothing like a textbook, it's good to explore these themes in context of a little adventure story.

In addition, one of the great things about this book is the list of characters. Strangely though, some of them contain, or imply, spoilers. My three favourites:

Reid Rance: This travel agent's moment of truth lasted a lifetime.
May Gibson: Fate took care of her three husbands, but her daughters were another cup of tequila.
Karen Frankel: A cold cookie, but Reid crumbled her.

Overall some fine, fun stuff. 6/10

Prairie Fire, Spring 2010

Prairie Fire, Spring 2010, vol. 31, no. 1. 136pp
Edited by Andris Taskans

Over the past couple of years my standard response to most literary journals is that while the overall quality of the writing is quite good, only two stories (commonly the first two) are really worth reading. The problem is not only in the stories themselves, but in that there is usually a tiring sameness to the stories collected in any given journal, so that a story that might be more appealing amid a wider ranging collection, can never gain any form of autonomy amid its kin. Imagine painting a blue tree on a blue wall: the shades might be different but the overall effect is not terribly distinct. This particular issue of Prairie Fire is an exception to the trend, and while the first two stories were clearly the strongest of the bunch, others proved more enjoyable than I'd anticipated.

There are similarities between some of the stories: two feature decapitations, two have young narrators, two have doctors, two have chickens... Truth be told there is more diversity in content than is usual, and this was refreshing. I have many partially-completed journals, both literary & genre, lying about my study & bedroom, so that completing any one feels like a rare accomplishment. Sure there were the standard thematic elements, but the idea is to produce common ideas (for what ideas are truly original?) in less than common form of expression, whether an interesting story-line, creative structure, good humour or interesting characters. This issue was a breeze to read; there was only one story I didn't care for and couldn't finish in a single sitting.

As with many of these journals, the binding and cover are quite attractive and these slim books look quite attractive on a bookshelf. I felt terrible when I knocked some water onto my desk which led to the crinkling of a few back pages; I normally take such good care of my books (all my things, really) that it almost hurts to feel the wrinkled pages between my fingers.

As per usual I will review the fiction only, though I will make mention of a poem I quite enjoyed: "This Poem Permanently Removes Hunger" by Jesse Patrick Ferguson.

"Søren and Regine" by David Bergen. As a teenager I was awed by Søren Kierkegaard's 1843 work Either/Or, and from his work I became curious about the man. David Bergen paints a vivid portrait of Kierkegaard in light of his love for Regine Olsen. Tremendously absorbing in all respects, the narrative itself is vivid and smooth, yet what works particularly well is the interwoven notion that Kierkegaard believed you can accurately speculate about a person's inner state by examining their exterior appearance, and climaxing the piece with a brief description of a portrait of Regine and a photograph of Søren which essentially debunk the philosopher's idea. Here Kierkegaard appears at once charming and destructively obsessive, and the portrait is apt. This is my first work by Manitoba author Bergen, whose 2005 novel The Time in Between was shortlisted for the prestigious IMPAC Dublin Literary Award. 8/10

"Mazing Grace" by Michael Van Rooy. "Dad robbed banks." As implied by this opening line and the unusual title, "Mazing Grace" is a fun read. It's the story of a teenager's impressions of his father, old family tensions and the solid framework of a family that leads to a small sacrifice in order to gain something of utmost importance. A short piece with good, brief sequencing and a well-rounded storyline. Michael Van Rooy received the 2008 John Hircsh Award for most promising Manitoba writer, and also serves on the Prairie Fire Board of Directors. 7/10

"Locusts and Honey" by Billie Livingston. A young woman tells of the decline of her less than stable uncle. The repetition of their similarities can reveal much about the narrator, evoke a kind of threat, but doesn't really. Ultimately the story has less and less to do with the narrator, a direct result of the plot taking over from character three quarters of the way through, and assaulting the reader with plenty of hard-edged scenes. Overall well written, but it fell apart for me after the mid-way point. 6/10

"The Persistence" by D.W. Wilson. A man returns to his home town and finds construction work with an old friend who was once his employee. He is still getting over his divorce to a painter who has recently remarried. Well written but too long and too dull. 4/10

"Lake Vostok" by Mary Thaler. Judy arrives at Lake Vostok in Antarctica to supervise some deep ice drilling, but really she is there in search of an old friend who has disappeared. Thaler's bio claims she is at Université Laval, "where she studies the biology of microscopic plankton in the Arctic Ocean." I liked the fluid writing and the science, but didn't care for the characters. In fact, I was surprised the scientists in the story are such good writers, at least the missing one who had left all those notes and recordings behind; the scientific dissertations at Laval U must be among the most poetic. 6/10

"Alice" by Lucie Moeller. In the bed of a city hospital lies Alice, a young heroin addict. Alice is being treated by young Dr. Henry Nolan, who at some point will have his notion of the Hippocratic oath challenged. This story kind of snuck up on me. The first two pages were agony, and my brain was heatedly crying out, "Why do I read these damn things!" The characters were flat and I just couldn't fall into the trite mesh of sympathy the story was begging for. Feel for me! it called, Feel for US! And before I knew it my interested was triggered, and then, of all things, I was enjoying the story, until finally I was caught blatantly sympathizing. Damn it! I was tricked; even that final sentence pricked some fibre in my heart muscles. Nicely done, Ms. Moeller. I applaud your work. But did you have to name her Alice? Alice's Adventures Through the Looking Glass and Alice in Wonderland, along with Jefferson Starship and Go Ask Alice. I get it! I might have sympathized a tad more if her name were, say, Bella. Or even Lucie. 6/10

"Just Pretending" by Lisa Wilson. A tragic coming-of-age story alternating between two scenarios: the seven year-old farm girl who witnesses the red rooster's head being lopped off, and the fourteen year-old girl who strikes up a romantic relationship with Joe Jackson, the university student she meets online. Overall a good story, though I didn't feel that all its separate components were properly melded together, that the notion of pretense was more a side-bar than an integrated thematic point, and the fact that the title is linked to a theme rather than a more concrete story component only strengthens this impression. The tone seems at times to shift, and I can't figure the age of the narrator and how distant she is from the experiences she is relating. Aside from these points the writing is smooth, the characters well realised and the story generally well written with some nice touches of humour. 6/10

"Shelterbelt" by Amber Hayward. A boy runs along along the shelterbelt beside the family farm, instances of his short life flashing by him in second person. A believable boy written by a woman (or a man named Amber) in familiar situations, everything from lacking friends, moving house, sibling relationships and first kisses. Despite the familiarity I enjoyed this short bit of fiction (not quite a story); it is well written and I found myself capturing each detail clearly in my mind's eye. This ability, of course, is not of my keen sense of visualization, but rather of the author's ability to detail scenes so that they become vivid in and of themselves. Moreover, I love that word "shelterbelt" and think I'll order a shot of it at the bar tonight. 7/10

[I must admit I did not care for the killing of the kittens, and the fact that they were decapitated struck me as odd. So odd I tried to picture it, and seeing the fluffy things stretched out on the chopping block was too much for me. And then I wondered why we have back-to-back animal decapitation stories, which of course reminded me of Horacio Quiroga and "The Decapitated Chicken," and from there my thoughts just deteriorated.]

"Bush Country" by Niall Fink. [Spoiler: No heads are lopped off in the course of this story.] Two Alberta field pipeline workers drive deep into desolation seeking a possible goldmine. At one point Mack wields a chainsaw and I thought for an instant that his partner's head would roll along the ice. My imagination wasn't deterred by the fact that the partner is the narrator telling the story after the fact. Though no heads roll some characters do, in a sense, lose their heads, and rather than a wealth of treasure, Mack finds little more than a reflection of himself. While the story wasn't bad and I found the setting both intriguing and well realised, I wanted something more than what I would expect from a story of this kind, and it offered nothing beyond my expectations. 6/10

Tales from the Darkside Season Two: Episodes 17 to 24

[Edited 30 July 2011: cleaned up text & new screenshots.]

For the review of episodes 1 through 8, please click here.
For the review of episodes 9 through 16, please click here.
Season One begins here.

The final third of season two is much improved over the first two-thirds. Overall, the season was a mixed affair. Some ideas had good potential but the scripts were simply weak. Often, rather than using a nifty idea to make something memorable, the show resorted to adapting original ideas as sitcom-quality comedies that were desperately crying out: "Look how neat and funny I am," when in fact they were not. The show spent much of the season masquerading as Tales from the Darkside, while it was being presented as Tales from the Sillyside.

It did not help that the quality of the acting was well below average. Gone were the many neat casting roles of season one (though we did have some fine performances from the likes of Marie Windsor, Abe Vigoda, Jerry Stiller, Coleen Gray and Susan Strasberg), replaced by actors whose careers spanned less than ten television appearances. Granted, the comedic horror that the show spewed out on a nearly weekly basis did not allow many of the actors to perform in any notable way, but even in serious episodes such as "Parlour Floor Front" (here I'm referring to the two homeowners; Adolph Caesar was quite good) the "serious" acting was two-dimensional.

There were some long gaps between episodes, with no episode airing throughout March and April; the final episode aired nearly two months following its predecessor. I'm not sure why this was. Perhaps they were contracted a maximum of twenty-four episodes and at season's end stretched them out as special events while running re-rums or giving another show a chance to perform better. Or perhaps the producers were late in delivering the final episodes. All this, of course, is just speculation.

The strongest episodes from Season Three are: "The Last Car," "A New Lease on Life," "Effect and Cause," "Ursa Minor," and "Dream Girl," while other half-decent episodes were "Ring Around the Redhead," "The Old Soft Shoe," "The Devil's Advocate" and "The Shrine." The rest are forgettable or very close to it.


"The Shrine." (Episode 17: first aired 9 February 1986) Directed by Christopher T. Welch, written by Jule Selbo from a short story by author/editor Pamela Sargent. Starring Lorna Luft, Coleen Gray, Virginya Keene, Janet Wood and Larry Gilman. 6/10

Christine Matthews (Judy Garland's daughter Lorna Luft) returns to visit her mother (no, not Judy, but veteran Coleen Gray in her final screen role) after a six-year absence. Things are awkward between the two women, with tensions that have been present yet repressed for many years. We learn quickly that Christine has suffered a nervous breakdown and is convinced that her mother believes she is a failure. The creepy element is that mom has turned Christine's bedroom into a shrine, and in the late and early hours a little girl's voice can be heard in the room.

There are some creepy moments; just the idea of seeing yourself again as a ten year-old is enough to send anyone over the deep end. There is also a wonderful opening sequence that makes sense only after having watched the entire episode. Late on a stormy night Christine is knocking on the door, calling out to her mother: "Mother! Mother!" But her mom is asleep in the kitchen chair. We also hear a distant little girl's voice calling "Mommy!" and mom awakens, but instead of heading for the door to let Christine in from the rain, she heads to the stairs leading to the bedrooms, and the shrine. A truly nice, subtle touch.

This is also among the rare Darkside episode featuring an unambiguous happy ending, so I suppose that makes it unpredictable. The opening is well done and it's fairly well written, though the ending drags a little and there is a seemingly useless scene with Christine's brother (Larry Gilman), a character exposition scene that could have been written for her friend Toni (Janet Wood) instead: the episode deserves an all-female cast since the highlighted relationships are between mother and daughter. Aside from Coleen Gray the acting is fairly standard, though the roles don't require anything too elevated. Despite these intrusions I did enjoy this one for the most part, glad when the show tried to do something a little different, or at least do it a little differently.


"The Old Soft Shoe." (Episode 18: first aired 16 February 1986) Directed by Richard Friedman, written by Art Monterastelli. Starring Paul Dooley, John Fiedler, Kathy McLain, Dorothy Parke and Patrick Farrelly. 6/10

"No I'm not with some cheap floozie,
I'm in some creepy motel for God's sake!"

Travelling lingerie salesman Chester Caruso (Paul Dooley) is stranded in a cheap motel owned and operated by eccentric Arthur (the always lovable John Fiedler). There is only one room remaining, which Arthur is mysteriously unwilling to let, though an ten bucks is all the convincing he needs. In this room is beautiful ghost Glenda (Dorothy Parke), who believes that Caruso is a man named Harry. The rest is mostly predictable, though not necessarily bad.

The humour is at times painful, though the scene with Fiedler entering the room with a shotgun is amusing simply because it's reminiscent of the Warner Brothers hunter of bunnies Elmer Fudd, who Fiedler oddly resembles. (I wonder if this was intentional.)

The additional story explanations given at the end, Arthur's confusion about the odd events in cottage number 7 just don't make any sense. [Spoiler] Arthur is at first unwilling to rent the cottage out, though keeps the key in full view, and knows full well it's the room his father was drowned in, yet seems unaware and even shocked to learn of the room's unusual occurrences.

Finally, the title "Old Soft Shoe" is a reference to Caruso's soft dance steps, yet his tango is awkward and I can't imagine him ever competing in ballroom (I'm saying this as someone with experience). However, Caruso/Dooley is truly smooth in his approach with women, or so he thinks. Married and seemingly faithful, though flirtatious and wanting so much to be the womanizing road warrior, he is at the end of the day an old soft shoe, a slipper really, lacking danger, mystique and likely not a real threat of infidelity.

A special note on the cast, since each member does an honestly good job with this fairly generic ghost story. Dramatic and comedic character actor Paul Dooley, who was a stand-up comic for many years fits his soft shoes well. John Fiedler has been in just about everything, from 12 Angry Men to Star Trek and Kolchak: The Night Stalker, two The Twilight Zone episodes ("The Night of the Meek" and "Cavender is Coming") as well as two AHP episodes, including the popular Henry Slesar scripted "Incident in a Small Jail." Torontonian Dorothy Parke is simply lovely, and it's too bad she hasn't appeared more on screen. Non-actor Patrick Farrelly with the bit part as the sheriff was among the call-in voices in the episode "The Devil's Advocate."


"The Last Car." (Episode 19: first aired 23 February 1986) Directed by John Strysik, written by Michael McDowell. Starring Begonya Plaza, mary Carver, Louis Guss, Scooter Stevens and Bert Williams. 8/10

Young Stacey is heading home for Thanksgiving, and finding the train awfully crowded, makes her way to the peaceful confines of the last car. "Why is it so empty back here?" she muses, and the friendly old lady tells her it's because the furthest car sways the most, which many find uncomfortable. Stacey settles into a seat, and besides herself and the friendly older lady, the car is occupied by a young boy and an old man. Everyone is a little too agreeable, a little slow even, not the sharpest knives in the drawer.

And then there are the tunnels...

What makes this such a strong little play is not the shocking ending, since we can quickly figure out what's really going on, but the odd characters, each of whom are well portrayed, and those creepy little tunnel episodes. The surreal bits, from the Old Man's replenishing lunch box to the Boy's changing costumes and Mrs. Crane's quick knitting, are all excellent additions to something that could have been just bland, but is happily creepy. Director John Strysik has helmed some of the better Darkside episodes so far, with "Anniversary Dinner" in the first season and "A New Lease on Life" earlier in season two. Here he succeeds in directing the strongest episode of the season.

Members of the cast do a good job all around. Colombian actress Begonia Plaza as Stacey; Mary Carver (Mrs. Cecilia Simon of Simon & Simon) as Mrs. Crane, Louis Guss I thought great as the zombie-like yet strangely sympathetic Old Man; Scooter Stevens is a fine freckled Boy; and Bert Williams is nicely smiley in his brief turn as Conductor.


"A Choice of Dreams." (Episode 20: first aired 4 May 1986) Directed by Gerald Cotts, written by James Houghton from a story by Edward F. Shaver. Starring Abe Vigoda, Ralph Monaco, David Chandler and David Glen. 6/10

"Don't just stand there! Get me a bottle of scotch!"

Mobster Jake Corelli has just learned that he is dying. Having lived with more power than most can imagine, and more money, Corelli is nonetheless impotent in this new twist of events. The doctor makes it clear that he will die, and that the cancer he has will prove to be excruciatingly painful. Yet a mysterious scientist calls on Corelli with an offer of salvation through Afterlife, an invention that offers a kind of immortality: the ability to spend eternity with the happiest of his memories. Of course this comes with a hefty sum, which Corelli is able and willing to pay (for otherwise there would be no episode).

"What are you, some kind of hippy undertaker?"

Like most Darkside episodes I found this to be predictable, yet I did enjoy the progression, the quiet meditation and the suffering Corelli. The wonderful Abe Vigoda is in fine form in this episode, as is Ralph Monaco as right hand man Angelo. The others are a little weak and the laboratory set is less than impressive, but Vigoda and a few good one-liners prevent the episode from ever getting dull.


"Strange Love." (Episode 21: first aired 11 May 1986) Directed by Theodore Gershuny, written by Edithe Swensen (see below at "The Unhappy Medium" for comments on Swensen). Starring Harsh Nayyar, Marcia Cross and Patrick Kilpatrick. 5/10

A vampire love triangle. (The title, "Strange Love," is out of place in an era when love between mortals and vampires is, unfortunately, all too common.) In 1935, vampire Edmund Alcott drags physician Philip Carrol to the aid of his wife Marie who has broken her knee while dancing. We learn that times are tough and it's hard to find good, clean blood (it is, after all, during the Great Depression), so the doctor is essentially held captive and should do nicely for supper. Complications arise when the good doctor and his patient start developing feelings for each other. (Personally I find this odd, since though I love meat, I've never fallen for my steak enough to want to spare it, let alone make out with it.)

Yet that is only one of several problems with this ill-thought-out episode. The first main problem is that a superhuman vampire suffers a serious injury so easily (you'd think after hundreds of years of practice they'd be able to get their steps down). Yet they are desperate for a doctor to come and care for the wound, whereas the knee heals all by itself in no time. (But what the hell, we have a set-up for romance, don't we?) The second main problem is the choice of costume and make-up: we learn on sight that these archetypal figures are bloodsuckers, so that when the fangs are revealed there is absolutely no surprise. (Alcott is evidently modelled after Bela Lugosi.)

A dull and predictable episode, which would have ended better with an additional twist: Marie turns out to be have been the one to turn Edmund, hinting that every half-century or so she seeks a new mate, tired of the old. But that was not to be and so our generic ending remains for all eternity. (Like a vampire this episode is, sucking the universe of logic and good sense.)

It can be argued that, though the good doctor is turned into a vampire, this is a happy ending since they find love, while the evil vampire dies. I must add that there is an additional attempt at making Marie likable by revealing that she does not drink human blood, only the blood of animals. (Something much touted as of late with a ridiculously popular vampire series.) Edmund is made so unlikable (and unattractive) that one wonders what Marie ever saw in him, and I must add that versatile Indian actor Harsh Nayyar is a little irritating in this role, while Patrick Kilpatrick is a wuss who later becomes demented, it seems.

The best thing about this episode is the elegant and beautiful Marcia Cross, who delivers a fine performance made better by her absolutely wondrous knee.


"The Unhappy Medium." (Episode 22: first aired 18 May 1986) Directed by Dusty Nelson, written by Edithe Swensen. 2/10

Televangelist Farley Bright (Peter Miller) is dead and three people are gathered to view his video will (appropriate for someone who has made his fortune through the medium). His sister Caroline (Connie Stevens) wants the estate and to amass an additional fortune by taking over the business; associate Jonathan Reed (Richard Kuhlman, who is to appear in a season four episode) wishes to take on the role of tele-preacher; niece and Caroline's daughter Jenny (Carolyn Ann Clark) wants to donate the money to a humanitarian cause.

This is the second straight episode penned by Edithe Swensen, and the third in the series from a total of ten Darkside episodes. As the show progresses, Swensen will go on to prove that her attempts at humour tend to fall flat. Her first season episodes are lighter affairs, dealing with tricksters who lose the fight against good, and in this sense her scripts generally have happy endings. Of the first three this is by far the weakest, though none are good. Still early in her career, Swensen will go on and write some fine television, with six episodes of Monsters, one for Star Trek: The Next Generation, and five episodes for the excellent Odyssey 5.

There isn't much to say about this one. The evangelist is caught in limbo with the devil chasing his tail, and he uses Jenny to tell everyone (including the bored viewer) what's really going on, and to yell some threats out. Hence the title, as Jenny is an unhappy medium. Kind of like a puppet on strings. Characters open doors that look into Heaven and Hell, and all we see are smoky neon lighting, with Hell in red and Heaven in an odd, cold blue rather than a warm gold. The ending is silly but then again so is the beginning and those parts in between, and the only thing worth watching is that brief moment when Connie Stevens struggles with a painting, believing there is a safe hidden behind it. There is something charming about that handful of seconds.


"Fear of Floating." (Episode 23: first aired 25 May 1986) Directed by John Lewis, written by Donald Wollner from a story by Scott Edelman. Starring Lex Luthor, General Jonathan Krantz and Lisa Simpson. 4/10

In the middle of a tremendous heat wave in dusty Arizona, a man wearing heavy shoes (Sherman Howard, Lex Luthor from Superboy) rushes into a military recruiting house where two soldiers, Corporal Marcia Smith (Anne Lange) and Master Sergeant Buzz Caldwell (Leon Russom, Krantz from Prison Break) are on the verge of losing their senses amid the heat and boredom. The stranger, however, is seeking not a military career, but sanctuary from the crazed members of a circus he has just fled from. Well, it becomes clear that this person is a fibber, but more so, he has a special, uncontrollable talent, which is that without the weighted shoes he will float. And I mean float; not fly or glide, just soar uncontrollably like a helium balloon.

The odd premise, unique setting intermingled with its theme of becoming "grounded" by taking responsibility for one's actions could have worked nicely, but it doesn't. The problem is that the writers tried to create an amusing comedy when a more serious take on a surreal situation would have suited it better. Think of the excellent first season episode "If the Shoes Fit..." (S1E18)

The acting is fine, with a neat appearance by Yeardley Smith (best known as the voice of Lisa Simpson) and I liked the set quite a bit, with its dated recruiting posters and miscellaneous junk. There are some nice camera shots, with the opening focus on Uncle Sam's poster followed by the neat angle through the ceiling fan (see the shot above) which nicely displays both the neatly cluttered set and the element of heat. Moreover, it manages also to foreshadows the ending. Even the music has a playful military quality. Sadly, "Fear of Floating" is a failed episode that could have been far better.


"The Casavin Curse." (Episode 24: first aired 13 July 1986) Directed by Frank De Palma, written by Edithe Swensen. Starring unknowns Catherine Parks, Joseph Cortese, Scott Lincoln, Julie Ariola and John Brandon. 5/10

If the title hasn't given it away, Gina Casavin is cursed. Or is she? The lovely woman (Catherine Parks) believes she is unable to fall in love, simply because she is convinced that the man she loves will die a horrible death. The episode opens onto a bloody scene, shots of a woman lying by her white, virginal bed, covered in blood, pills on the table, flowers in a vase, a mirror on the wall... everything covered in blood, while a man lies dead at the vanity table, his back slashed open by what appears to be a set of claws. Suddenly there's a knock at the door, a woman calls out some information useful to the viewer, and our lovely, troubled heroine starts to scream: "I killed him!"

I found this episode painfully predictable. Perhaps I have read too many short stories employing a similar trope, with the idea of [spoiler alert] an attractive, innocent woman who is being sheltered by a mean-looking man who intends on marrying her despite the fact that he is her brother (played malevolently by Joseph Cortese). In his efforts he keeps all other men at bay. (Hey, it's Darkside's version of The Barber of Seville, just not as fun to watch.) The thing is, she did kill the guy. Her brother was right all along even though we don't want to believe him since he's such a [expletive]. The idea is that the viewer will automatically believe the woman innocent even though she doesn't believe it herself. The mean guy turns out to be in the right, and love does not prevail over all, but rather vengeance is a more powerful force. There is a little post-twist twist, which was unpredictable yet unnecessary and out-of-nowhere. Though really, the entire episode was not terribly necessary either.

Briefly: Russell Banks, Affliction (1989)

Banks, Russell. Affliction. NY: Harper & Row, 1989


In Russell Banks's Affliction, small town New Hampshire police officer and local well digger Wade Whitehouse is having a crummy week. A crummy week following a crummy life. Overall a powerful novel, with some great characters, dialogue and absolutely fine writing.

Then why did it take me three weeks to finish this novel?

Told through the point of view of Wade's youngest brother Rolfe, who has pieced the events together in so horribly an obsessive manner that he can imagine what Wade was eating, thinking and feeling throughout these tragic events. Rolfe's obsession came about as a result of wanting to understand the horrible tragedy that Wade's life had become, and to come to terms with those final hours leading to horrible acts of violence. An ingenuous method and wholly believable, yet what slows down the narrative is the vast amount of detail, often repetitive, that I felt were not only needless, but intrusive.

Reading through these details I found myself skimming, my thoughts drifting off, wondering why the narrator is so desperate to pound certain points across, as well as certain minor details. The more he pounded, the less I was inclined to buy into his theories, as though we were kids in the schoolyard and he wanted so badly for me to believe his incredibly tall tale that to help convince me he was being insistent, nodding his head aggressively and staring at me as though daring me to disbelieve. Yet because I trusted him at the beginning, this insistence was simply annoying, and I wanted to tell him to just get on with bloody story already. How exhausting, to the point that I was longing for the schoolyard bell to ring and quiet the little bugger.

And yet it is a powerful novel with some great moments. In all honesty, my rant was exaggerated for effect; annoyed is a strong word and I will certainly hunt me down some more writing by Mr. Banks.

I might even check out the movie.