Tom Brady: Oh, Say, Can You See?

 DATELINE:  Charitable De-pants of Brady

 Splitsville for Tom? Pulling an Elvis?

Tom Brady’s golf game has brought a split decision. It was a new low for the Super Bowl man without a pocket.

The big televised charity golf tournament with Peyton Manning, Phil Mickelson and Tiger Woods, came apart at the seams during the match.

It seems Tom Brady bent over and found himself flying by the seat of his pants. How could a man so thin break the laws of physics? Or maybe he just broke the wind speed for a tee-off swing.

We haven’t seen such roughage to a wardrobe since Janet Jackson pulled her prank. Yes, Tom, we see you for all your worth. He needed his copper-infused pajama pants to play the rest of the game.

If we recall clearly, Elvis used to regularly split his pants in his final concert tour. Some believe it was sewn into the act.

Tom needed a diversion, and a pair of Sponge Bob’s pants fit the bill, harry, and tom. Underneath it all, there came a subpar moment in sports history. This seemed to parallel Spygate, Deflategate, and the general run of fake news.

Now this has nothing on Trump on Memorial Day, swaying in the breeze like the American flag. Supporters wanted to support the unsteady President who played golf the day before and showed his handicap: standing still.

In front of the Unknown Soldier during a ceremony, Trump looked like a man who had a few too-many swigs of Clorox before the game. He needed his club to act as a walker. We expect to see Trump split voters and pants, but never Tom Brady, his ardent supporter friend.

We gasped to see what color Tom’s undies might be: at least he wore undies, unlike some NFL players on Sunday games day.

Tom’s world tour of torn pants and broken promises will continue in Tompa Bay where the sea breeze will send a cooling cool to the Elvis stunt.

Spy Went Out Into the Cold

DATELINE: Not Sean Connery, or even Daniel Craig!

  Kim Philby in Moscow grave.

One of the most notorious real spies was a man named Kim Philby. He was a Cambridge, class-oriented Brit upper-crustaceon. Put James Bond out of your mind. This was a slimey limey traitor with charm and sociopathic standards. Spy Who Went Out into the Cold  is a nasty person

Back in the 1930s all his friends were in the spy business. It was a social means of fulfilling one’s communist principles. He was recruited by the Soviets and became an ultimate hypocrite. His friends became the right-wing aristocratic class. He fit in, and they all loved his wit and debonair attitude. He was a spy out of the Noel Coward school of blithe spirits.

Some claimed he was two people; how else could he betray his family, friends, and country? His attitude was that Prime Minister Harold Macmillan and other high rankers were simply idiots.

Kim Philby recruited his gay friends Burgess and McLean to be the bottom line of spy workers.

After World War II, it became bad business when the Soviets became cold war opponents. Burgess and McLean could not take the heat and defected, leaving J. Edgar Hoover to look for a “third man,” their enabler. It was Kim Philby, but his charm and friends helped him skate off in the coverup.

The film does a wonderful job in digging up old compatriots, finding photos and newsreels to depict Philby’s life of indolent drinking and fake journalism in Beirut for few years.

The truth was he was a despicable drunkard who had no scruples. When the authorities offered him a deal to continue to coverup and placate Hoover, he defected on a Soviet trawler. He lived his final years in Moscow, apparently unfazed by his low-life.

In the late 1980s with the Soviet Union crumbling, they dusted him off before burying him. He did not receive the justice he deserved: a firing squad.

 

 

 

Beast of Whitehall: Local Legend

DATELINE: Bigfoot Next to Champ

Brian Gosselin of Whitehall.

You might think it is some dark Viking who attacked Alfred the Great, but no, this beast is another Bigfoot wannabe who seems to reside in upstate New York, not far from Vermont. Whitehall is the “Home of the U.S. Navy,” so damn those torpedoes.

Yes, Whitehall is a sleepy New England town with charm galore, but it borders on paranormal, if not abnormal, creatures: Champ is the Loch Ness Monster of nearby Lake Champlain, and the Beast of Whitehall, (the Abair Road Incident)  has been skulking around the Adirondack Mountains since settlers first arrived. Now the local Chamber of Commerce seems to be cashing in.

We don’t know if Hawkeye and Uncas ran into them during the Last of the Mohicans, but if they looked, Bigfoot was behind one of the trees.

This short, interesting local documentary was put together, based on a key 1976 sighting in which 11 police officers, local and state, responded when three local teens ran into a seven-foot monster with red eyes.

Officer Brian Gosselin’s younger brother is no longer among us, and this film is a testimony to his encounter. Brian remains haunted by the meeting and suffered years of ridicule as a police officer. His logs have mysteriously disappeared, despite his painstaking recollections.

First sightings occurred when people showed up in the area in the mid-1700s. The national protected area is bigger than most other national parks, including Yellowstone. It also has the distinction of being a protected area—that is, they ban any hunting of Bigfoot. He is a permanent resident, but hasn’t cast any ballots we know of.

Most academics disparage the idea of a large primate living secretly in Whitehall, even today. Alas, too, many of the key witnesses from the 1970s have amazingly already passed away: Dan Gordon gave an extraordinary interview to Monsterquest and died in 2016, while Paul Gosselin died in 2015. It is hard to believe how fast time passes. Even Bigfoot’s grandchildren must now be secretly roaming the woods outside of Whitehall.

 

 

Warhol’s Salacious Classic Short

DATELINE: Nothing Ventured?

  Big Moment on Film.

All good things must come to an end, and there may be no more edgy way to end another collection than with our first viewing of Andy Warhol’s 1963 salacious film called Blow-Job.

No one knows whether this was pure acting, or impure acting. Since more orgasmic porno is faked anyhow, we are sure that Warhol was keeping his secret. There is more edginess here than in a modern 21stcentury real thing effort.

Don’t get your knickers in. a twist. This film is the 27-minute version, and it is silent as well as black and white. If there had been sound, we may have accused the star of over-acting his role center-stage.

The star was a 24-year old actor who resembled James Dean, perhaps a fetish of Warhol. DeVeren Bookwaiter went out to do Shakespeare on stage and even appeared in the legit movie The Enforcer. We aren’t sure how many jobs he won as a result of his Warhold notoriety. We never see the costar.

The film starts slow before its inevitable climax. We suspect that foreplay may have enhanced the length—er, of the film. We see the main character only from his shoulders up, in a stylish leather jacket standing before one of those ubiquitous brick walls of New York.

Occasionally he looks nervous like he may hear the police siren closing in. For the most part, he moves around the film frame, and Warhol does not. So, the star often ducks into facial shadow, so we cannot see his bliss.

This could be a farce, or just a sex romp.

Now and then he throws his head back into the light of ecstasy. You cannot hear him, but several times he seems to say the word, “Yes,” and near-on to 17 minutes he may shout out an epithet beginning with F.

The film goes in an out of a white blank, followed by the editor dots. It was either a second helping, or retakes by Warhol. His camera seems to be having more fun the actor in question.

You know you are approaching the end when he throws up both hands and rubs his head. The real tell-tale sign that our break is near, he lights up a cigarette. On the whole, the film is fairly boring. Perhaps you had to be there.

We think he said, “thank you,” near the end as smoke got in his eyes.

Well, that’s art for you.

Every Little Step:  Distorted Version of Chorus Line

DATELINE: One Singular Omission!

 Jimmy Kirkwood.

 

The little documentary made about a revival of A Chorus Lineis so warped by time and death that it is about as inaccurate as you can find when all the principals are long gone. Every Little Step  is really Every Big Omission.

Three of the creative forces behind the great musical play were Michael Bennett, Nick Dante, and James Kirkwood. They all died way too soon: and the survivors are allies of Michael Bennett (Marvin Hamlisch, Donna McKechnie, and Bob Avian). So, you have a slightly skewed presentation of the past.

I knew Jim Kirkwood—and he has been cut out of this film and you’d never know he had any role whatsoever for A Chorus Line (which happened to win him a Tony for writing and a Pulitzer Prize for good measure).

Cutting out Kirkwood from credit began while he was still alive. I can recall his complaint about how “hurtful” all this was—and he admitted to me he did have a physical altercation with Michael Bennett. I cannot imagine what that looked like—as Jim often advised me to “Kick’em in the nuts” to start and end any fight instantly.

Jim was proud of his contribution to A Chorus Line and even put the logo on his letterhead until someone complained to him about his “colossal ego.” He removed the line of dancers and went with plain stationery. I told him to ignore such idiots, but he was overly sensitive.

This documentary would send him up to the roof and we might never get him down.

A great deal is made of the 12 hours of tapes of dancers’ interviews that served as backbone of the libretto. Bennett recorded this one snowy December night in the 1970s, but Kirkwood insisted to me he never listened to a single tape. He read a transcript and had to give structure and order to it. He pointedly said to me, “There were no tapes. I never heard any tapes.”

What intrigued him was his show biz background and literary themes of his life fit right into the storyline. If you read his works, you find every concept in A Chorus Line in books he wrote a decade earlier, from the Big Joker in the Sky concept of the “Director” to small details.

Even the biggest decision to change the ending to improve the book of the show is not given to Jim Kirkwood. It is entirely the idea of Michael Bennett. At the 1976 Tony Awards, Bennett gave a speech in which Kirkwood is mentioned as he gives “thanks to Jimmy.”

The closing credits mention permission of the James Kirkwood Trust, but never is he mentioned within the documentary. Every Big Omission indeed. As a friend of Jim Kirkwood, I am furious about this distorted movie.

 

Dr. William Russo is author of Riding James Kirkwood’s Pony.

Skinny Dip at Skinwalker Ranch

DATELINE: Yes, We Have No Mutilations

 AlienCon Guests!

There seems to be some paranoia striking deep into Skinwalker Ranch, which is saying something. Already on alert about all things paranormal, an ersatz Area 51 and a Half, the crew does not need much to be at each other’s throats.

This week several interesting developments made us skeptical. First, while they were trying to determine if EVPs were occurring at one of the staff houses, they see a helicopter flying overhead. It has a camera on its bottomside and no insignias.

It is clearly not Brandon Fugal, their boss who has a fancy copter and arrives like deus ex machina. This unknown aircraft sets them into a frenzy. We thought it would not be beyond producers to hire a fly-by to add intrigue.

This matter is put on the back burner when we are cast into the opening show’s first sequence:  discovery of a dead cow on the property. Everyone scrambles, but the creature, dead for a few hours, is not mutilated, by dead mysteriously.

When they call their billionaire owner, he is so upset that he states he will drive over immediately with an expert in the subject of cattle mutilation. Suddenly he is not flying in his private copter from Vegas.

When he arrives with his “expert”, it is none other than Linda Moulton Howe, making her appearance his best decision in the series.

Surprisingly, her costar on Ancient Aliens, Travis Taylor, is not there to greet her.

She visits the dead cow and checks out footage and states the obvious: it’s not cattle mutilation, but the electro-magnetic aspect interests her.

Though the alpacas are in a protective cage, Linda points out that something could enter from above, which comes as a shock to several. Hunh? You mean they never considered the UFOs?

Oh, well, this was a better entry than the previous six.

 

Titanic’s Marconi Radio & a Spirit’s Reaction

DATELINE: Titanic Spirit

 New Book: Titanic’s Forgotten Movie.

You may have noticed the latest Titanic news: a judge’s ruling that violates the graveyard sanctity of shipwrecks in the name of historical preservation. The Titanic will now be drilled open like a can of sardines, and the Marconi radio will be extracted.

The arguments in favor of this are that the ship is collapsing and, if salvage does not occur immediately, all these historical items, lost for over 108 years will be lost forever.

My own personal interest in the topic may be tied to a couple of books I wrote about the Titanic (if you are interested, the latest is TITANIC’S FORGOTTEN MOVIE,which details the attempts to have Greta Garbo and Alfred Hitchcock join the movie manifest).

I also have a personal interest in that my home once belonged to several victims of the White family, who died during their first-class voyage to destiny.

Richard White was a 21-year old Bowdoin student coming home to graduate in 1912, but he only made it there for a memorial service. His body was recovered among the 300 or so, and he was brought home to a cemetery one mile from where I live and he lived. I often visit him there.

Some time ago, I discovered he was hanging around in spirit. Never believing in that stuff, I went to various psychics who confirmed he selected me to write his biography. I have done so, and he continues to visit me from time to time, a grateful spirit friend.

The preferred method of communication with someone on the Other Side for me is divining rods. He always responds quickly for me, and so I asked him what his opinion might be about the retrieval of the Marconi.

Richard’s response on the metal sticks was surprising. He is often strong in his responses to me, but there was a great great deal of ambivalence about this going into the ship for the Marconi. He had strong mixed feelings. I think he feels helpless to react to it.

His answer reminded me me of my own reaction to the coronavirus. What can we do? Profiteers want their profit.

As far as Titanic is concerned, I do think this opens the door to retrieving safety deposit boxes and the like. If you decide the ship is collapsing, they will take all they can out with that excuse.

By the same token, there is not much an oldster can do when the doors are open to ending social distance. Victims are always victims. Old people may be susceptible to the virus, but the greater need to have society continue on its merry way supersedes those whose lives are nearly over.

Richard White could surely empathize with a death that causes respiratory failure: fluid in the lungs killed him too.

Now the place where his father’s body was never recovered will be violated for profit and the higher motive of historical value. Those always take precedence over the life of an individual.

Richard White and I can only shrug at the latest turn of events.

 

Picking at Bones on Lost Gold

DATELINE: Billons 

  John Casey

 

At long last, half-way through the second season, the show returned to the promise it evinced last season.

Here, some real discoveries intrigue the viewer. We still think there are unfilmed events behind the scenes. When Bingo Minerva meets up with Dr. Chuck McDougall, he is too open and too ready to share his long-prized treasure maps from the Ferdinand Marcos archives. He was likely paid generously for this.

McDougall was dismissed as a “treasure hunter” with Robert Curtis in the 1980s, but he was a respected scholar with high level connections in the Philippines. However, President Corazon Aquino pulled his right to search after a short time. He warns Bingo that there are dangers—people will kill and steal the treasure. Well, a couple of billion dollars of bullion will do that.

Back in the Luzon area, some idiocy continues: like trying to move a heavy excavator across three miles of muddy road. Impossible.

The most interesting of all was finding teeth and bones in the pivotal tunnel. John Casey shuts down the operation immediately, and the miners were clearly uneasy at finding the remains. Whose graves might these be? Casey theorized Japanese left prisoners buried alive in these tunnels.

Bingo is authorized to make a deal with Dr. McDougall for his authenticated maps. He wants 1% of the treasure for his info. We cannot calculate how many millions that will be.

As a side-note, John Casey goes on a tirade in one scene and explains that no one and nothing will stop him in his quest to find this treasure. AT least now we know what happened to last year’s team. There is no comfort for his partners this season.

 

 

To Believe or To Investigate?

DATELINE: I Want to Believe! 

 Nicks Redfern & Pope

The documentary with the worst title so far this year is I Want to Believe! 

What a pity because it actually might attract more viewers with a better title. Of course, the opening credits undermine it further when the production company is misspelled as “Prodruction.”  Sloppy filmmakers.

Once the film starts, you realize that it is giving us some of the better Ancient Aliensexperts in a different light. Yes, there are our personal favorites Nick Pope, Nick Redburn, and Mike Bara. They are the true stars of this picture—and they dominate the interviews, though a few other lesser knowns offer opinions.

These three usually offer sound-bite one-sentence comments on a specific topic on Ancient Aliens.Here they are allowed to open up—and even explain a bit of their personal history and why they went into this crypto-journalism field of UFOs.

Make no mistake, they do think of themselves not as believers, but as investigators with an open mind.

The term UFO is widely disparaged as it is meaningless since anything unknown in the sky is a UFO. They also tend to respect “professional” witnesses over “abductees” because expertise carries some weight in their investigations. Bara disputes this and thinks the Travis Walton case is highly compelling because six witnesses passed multiple lie detector tests.

As theorists, they tend to lump all paranormal into one or two categories: either governmental disinformation for political motives, or the more interesting—interdimensional beings. Here, whatever culture you find, whether ghosts, orbs, little gray men, a Bigfoot. It is from a time-travel source in our past or parallel universe.

They do not dismiss the idea that an ancient civilization, now long gone on Earth, went to the Moon or Mars, and then eons ago came to an end. Their remnants may be our visitors.

We tend to agree that interdimensional explanations work best to include spirits who may have connections to ordinary people today whom they visit in one form or another.

As an adjunct to Ancient Aliens, we thought this was a more comprehensive consideration, with more attention to details than a fly in the ointment.

Trump Has Malaria?

 DATELINE: Whatever Ails You?

 Happy Halloween!

Trump has boasted this week that he is taking an anti-malaria drug, using it as a preventative for coronavirus. He now takes one pill of  hydroxychloroquine plus azithromycin every day.

He also admitted that the White House doctor did not “recommend” the treatment. Indeed, the FDA warns about its dangers. Yet, Trump is not most people—and he has a little button in his brain not known to science that compels him to act however he wants. Has someone pushed that button again?

We are amused that the White House doctor would take a chance in prescribing a pill for the president that could cause him to have rapid heartbeats or a heart attack. Thus, if Trump died, the doctor could be called an assassin.

Trump actually may be the first president to assassinate himself.

 Under the circumstances, we wondered if the doctor was giving Trump a placebo of aspirin, unbeknownst to the world leader.

Blithely used in a blind study, Trump then goes on his merry way.

His insistence on using a malaria drug comes out of some Fox News story he must have heard. In any respect, he started taking  hydroxychloroquine plus azithromycin right after a number of people in the White House started coming down with positive tests for novel coronavirus. It inspired Trump to try anything. His COVID came COD via his Veep.

Of course, there is a chance that Trump tested positive, and the White House lied to the press about the result. We are still not entirely satisfied he is healthy. He looks putrid lately.

Danger Man to Prisoner: Patrick McGoohan

DATELINE: In His Mind 

Notorious Village at Portmerion, Wales

 

Portmerion is in Wales and was built in the 1960s to be an anomaly Italian resort by the sea. When actor Patrick McGoohan went there for an episode of his Danger Man series, he was struck by the rococo isolation—and it inspired him to create a seminal 1960s TV series, the cult-favorite The Prisoner.

McGoohan played the notorious #6 who is kidnapped as a secret agent and imprisoned by #2. It turned out to be 17 episodes, though he wanted only 7. And, the show, a marvel of modernity, became his Citizen Kane: a creation from top to bottom.

You may recall McGoohan chased on the beach by a giant white beach ball that returns him to the Village of imprisonment. Every episode he was bedeviled by a new #2. Number One was a mystery. He was #6. In My Mind is his story.

Under pseudonyms, he directed many episodes and wrote them. He was officially listed as executive producer, a man who was not a number. Imagine agent John Drake’s horror today when he would be even less than a number.

McGoohan created the props, the costumes, the settings, to be exactly what he wanted. It was a marvel that not even Orson Welles could critique.

McGoohan always played some kind of secret agent in so many films before he moved to Hollywood and did smaller character roles for the final 20 years of his career.

Director Steve Rodley was a superfan—and dug up a rare 1977 interview aobut The Prisoner, and he begged the reclusive McGoohan to talk with him in the 1990s in Los Angeles. To his surprise, the actor acceded. He also took over the interview, actually directing it. He was irascible and always quick to anger.

They once asked Lew Grade how he managed to get along with McGoohan—and he said he had no problems because he gave him whatever he wanted.

McGoohan’s daughter Catherine agreed to speak on behalf of her father, with reluctance, but knows his great series deserves an honor on its 50thanniversary in 2018.

The interspersing of McGoohan footage, on and off screen, at Portmerion and by amateur photogs, is amazing to behold. The actor manages to annotate his own great film role and project—and it was all in his mind from the start. After giving an interview about the Prisoner, McGoohan offered a blank check to buy back the video footage. it was refused.

Fans of the show cannot miss this documentary, and it may well bring more people to watch the original 1960s masterpiece.

Two Coreys in the Hopper?

 DATELINE: Feldman Exploits Haim?

 A Final Picture.

 There are conspiracy theories that Stanley Kubrick was assassinated partly because of his hostility to the pedophile strata in the film world.

You can hardly put actor/director Corey Feldman into the same category as Kubrick, though he has produced and directed a film that has been trashed and disbelieved: his documentary on his friend Corey Haim and his sexual history as a teen, has been in production for a decade.

The Rape of the Two Coreys, as it is called, may be more fantasy than reality in terms of film production. If there is a second rape of Haim, it is by his so-called friend Feldman and done posthumously.

Its premiere in Los Angeles a few months ago may have been lost in the pandemic news coverage. His ill-fated showing of his documentary went into the trashcan as the audience waited before a blank screen with “technical difficulties,” and he didn’t help matters by taking a powder rather than face angry people who thought they would be in on a scandal bigger than Michael Jackson.

Whether Feldman is a con man, or merely an exploiter of his friendship with Corey Haim, we may never know truly. Allegedly a half-dozen witnesses gave input into the film to contend that the prettier Corey was raped during the filming of a cheezy movie called Lucasby another Hollywood personality mess. You know his name. At the time one was 13 and the elder was 19.

With statutes of limitation, dead victims, and big money as the foundation, it would seem that no one should be surprised if the Feldman documentary was, first, fake, or second, derailed by powerful forces.

Kubrick would have tend toward the latter view, and the living Corey would hope you agree. He claimed to have a million dollars in sales lined up for his film—and where that money will go is anyone’s guess.

The digital film could not stream, but two months later, the entire project has disappeared like the Los Angeles police investigation of Feldman’s charges in 2017. Police found no basis for pursuing the crimes, and the alleged perpetrator (unnamed here but well-known on the Internet) has skated away with denials.

We can figure out the truth by percentages of possibilities, but exploitation of pathetic people is never going to be a pleasant topic to discuss, view in a movie, or prove in a court of law. As of now, there is no avenue for Corey Feldman’s movie documentary to reach an audience, if it is even a finished film or a real documentary.

Recently, Feldman claimed he left the country because of death threats. He apparently took his film with him. It may never have a public release

 Showtime with Bob Fosse

DATELINE: Anti-Chorus Line! 

Young Bob Fosse in 1953.

There would be no moonwalking Michael Jackson without Bob Fosse’s choreography pioneering the way back in the 1950s.

Fosse went from dance/ taskmaster to director of movies, producing musicals like All That Jazz, Cabaret, and Sweet Charity, that contained thematic drama and ideas far beyond those of mortal danseurs.

The documentary film of his life seems to feature many British dancers and young ballerinas who likely weren’t born during Fosse’s heyday. One prima ballerina also lists herself as a quantum physicist in the credits. Oi vey.

Fosse danced at a young age, and by 13 was professionally dancing in a strip joint with older women. Today someone would be under arrest. However it affected him, we can see likely in movies like Sweet Charity, about prostitutes and dancers.

There is considerable talk that Fosse wanted to be another Fred Astaire, but his hairline was an issue, as were his looks. That problem also dogged Astaire, but he thrived. Fosse may well have been a poor actor, but his electric dances in Kiss Me Kateand Damn Yankeeswon him accolades—and his third wife, Gwen Verdon.

Time is also devoted to his idiosyncratic use of hands and hips in dances. And, like Mike Nichols, he came to film directing late in life, age 41 and learned on the job. Of course, he was on movie sets since the early 1950s, observing.

By the time he made Cabaret, Fosse was a drug-addled, alcoholic womanizer with a deplorable attitude. Today he’d be in jail with Harvey Weinstein, but in the early 1970s, they gave him an Oscar, Emmy, and Tony, all in the same year.

It did not improve him, or stop him from having three heart attacks.

Fosse tried to show a dancer’s life in All That Jazzwith an ugly counterpoint to the more joyous A Chorus Line,by James Kirkwood, made almost contemporaneously. Showtime dancers might have different opinions to the two parallel worlds. It may be revealing how few people (none) who knew him participate in this documentary.

His final film was a non-musical about an abusive murderer of his wife, based on the true story of Dorothy Stratton. It was called Star 80.  His last act was directing Chicago on stage, but he died in 1987 and never made it his crowning achievement.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lured: I Love Lucy!

DATELINE:   George Sanders Loves Lucy!

Lucille Ball, George Sanders, Sir Cedric Hardwicke, Boris Karloff, and Charles Coburn. If you are an old movie fan, these names together in a movie will send you into the stratosphere. It’s a murder mystery set in modern London with an American showgirl recruited by Scotland Yard to catch a serial killer.

Lured  is a 1947 film overlooked by most because it is such a cross against typecast.

Lucy is sarcastically funny when she needs to be. George Sanders actually has a line in which he states, “I’m an unmitigated cad,” and the killer has a penchant for the poetry of Charles Baudelaire.

This is not your usual mystery film. Douglas Sirk directs with his usual great aplomb and knows how to let his highly idiosyncratic actors play their stereotypes to the hilt. He made his name later in big budget soap opera movies, but here he plays film noir like a comic Hitchcock.

Not only that, the film is beautiful to look at—with its glossy black and white sets that do not scrimp on atmosphere.

Coburn is the lead Yard inspector—and his assistants are Alan Napier and Robert Coote!

The litany of rogue suspects is peachy Boris Karloff and Lucy are marvelous as he is the mad fashion designer and she is his model. Later she attends a Schubert concert after joining the staff of butler Alan Mowbray. She must hunt down each suspect with her brash comedy timing. You will soon recognize the Lucy you love.

You may not guess who the culprit is until the final reel—and Lucy does an excellent job working for Scotland Yard.

A lost gem, you owe it to see this charming comedy thriller.

 

 

 

 

 

Skin of Their Teeth Ranch, Drilling Down

 Dr. Travis Taylor

DATELINE: Digging Shallow

Despite all the hoopla about no digging on Skinwalker Ranch,there will be drilling down.

We suspect Travis Taylor would have walked off the show in a huff if they didn’t drill. Of course, we put nothing past the drama queens on these reality series.

Of interest was the visit of a Native American high priest or shaman. He says a prayer over the area where they will do some core samples. Dr. Travis Taylor was quite respectful because he believes that the magical approach may calm some fears and worries. The shaman was the guest of Dragonfly, the hostile security chief.

There was only a little comfort given by the guest who said, if there is trouble, they should not dig.

Sure enough, when the experts come to do core samples and check the radiation levels, there is nothing particularly sinister. However, a strange wind seemed to shake the telephone poles along the road. Taylor suspected earthquake. Tom Winterton took a powder rather than face any anomaly.

Previously Taylor received radiation burns from his work on the ranch, but all that was strangely absent when testers arrive at the same location.

The most disturbing element of the show was the cruel decision to bring two alpacas to the ranch. Exotic and adorable, they are largely silent—and were put into a pen that was not secure.

Sure enough, something attacked them in the pen. On security cameras, they are chased and are screaming. The photos are not clear and there is no way to know what was there. We blame the people who brought these defenseless creatures into the show as guinea pigs.

Guinea pigs are experimental victims. Once again, this is a unsympathetic group.