Columnists
Entries from July 2008
I
BACK IN THE SPOTLIGHT: MARILYN MASON RETURNS TO THE SCREEN WITH MODEL RULES Interview by Tom Lisanti Actress Marlyn Mason, best remembered as Elvis’ leading lady
in The Trouble with Girls (1969) and James Franciscus’ trusty
assistant/companion on TV’s Longstreet (1971-72), has come out of a
self-imposed 10-year retirement to star in Model Rules (2008) a short
film directed by Ray Robison that she also produced and wrote on location in
Medford, Oregon where she has been residing these past few years. In it
she plays an aging artist's model who envisages being with one of the men
sketching her.
The movie came from an idea Marlyn had after researching
what it took to become a real life artist’s model back in 2004. She
shelved the proposal but when a friend suggested she enter a Fiction Writing
contest, a former writing partner, comedian Vince Valenzuela, reminded her
about becoming an artist’s model and thought that would make a better story.
Warmly received, Model Rules was accepted into The
Rhode Island Int'l Film Festival (Aug. 5 - 10) and the Los Angeles Int'l Short
Festival (Aug. 15 - 21). If you live in any of those cities go see it! Click
here to access the web site
chock full of production stills.
With her big blue-green eyes and button nose, Marlyn Mason
(no connection to rock star Marilyn Manson, thank you) was an unconventional
beauty who had the talent to play comedy and drama to good effect. Being
an extremely versatile performer, she was a much sought after TV actress
playing a variety of roles on all the top series from the Sixties through the
Eighties but made the most impression on spy fans with her guest stints on I
Spy, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Mission: Impossible, and Matt
Helm. Mason also proved to be a more than competent singer and dancer
on two TV musical specials with Robert Goulet (Brigadoon and Carousel)
and on Broadway in How Now Dow Jones. Her singing and dancing
prowess was finally put to good use on the big screen when she won her lead
role opposite Elvis. Two years later, a daring Marlyn bared more than her
talent as the older woman who seduces one of her husband’s students (Kristoffer
Tabori) in the youth-oriented comedy, Making It (1971) and then
played the neighbor who falls for Hal Holbrook unaware that he is gay in the
groundbreaking TV movie That Certain Summer (1972). Her last
credit prior to Model Rules was the TV movie Fifteen and Pregnant
(1998).
How long did it take you to write Model Rules?
When I finished our conversation [with Vince Valenzuela], I
turned on the computer, stared at it and forty-five minutes later had written a
488 word piece that I titled Model Rules. Had it not been for
Vince's reminding me of my idea it would not exist today and I would not
be enjoying a surge in my otherwise slumbering career. Not bad at 68!
So how did it go from short story to short film?
My neighbor Janet Jamieson loved it, which encouraged me to
send it to a local film maker, Ray Robison. He called and said "I
want to do this". "Me, too", I replied. And so began
the life of Model Rules. Ray brought together twenty-one
volunteers to act as artists and crew.
So you never actually worked as an artist’s model while
in Oregon?
No, so I found artist Robert M. Paulmenn who suggested
I do a posing session before filming. Afterwards he said,
"I can't teach you anything. You're a
natural"! That was an enormous ego feed for this old
broad! Needing several real artists for visual purposes Robert was delighted to
be cast along with artist Greeley Welles and sculptor Michael Isaacson.
How long did it take to shoot?
It took us two days and one evening to film. The Rogue
Gallery in Medford, Oregon gave us the space and art equipment
to use, which saved us a good amount. Half of the movie is shot in my own
little hut, also in Medford.
Did the movie turn out as you envisioned?
When I put Model Rules into the hands of Ray Robison
I told him it was his to do with as he wished. I would not
interfere. He welcomed suggestions and mine were less than few. I
became the actress, doing as I was asked, never looking at the monitor.
Weeks later when Ray showed me the rough cut I was stunned. With Director
of Photography, Kenn Christenson, Ray put together exactly what I had pictured
when I created the story. Ray also found exquisite pieces by
composers Kevin MacLeod and Justin R. Durban. It was just good luck that
Ray and I were on the same wave length visually and that Kenn was able to
translate what we wanted, a French art film, of sorts. And wouldn’t
you know, my “natural†talents are now put to good use; on occasion I’m asked
to pose for nude workshops!
Read more about Marlyn Mason’s movie and TV career in my
book Drive-in Dream Girls: A Galaxy of B-Movie Starlets of the Sixties.
-Tom Lisanti/www.sixtiescinema.com
By Tom Lisanti
Gays are always fashionably late, and I am no exception, as
I pay tribute to that cult classic The
Gay Deceivers long after Gay Pride month as come and gone. Released in
1969, this daring-for-its time comedy starred boyish Kevin Coughlin as Danny a
preppy 22 year-old with a steady girlfriend (Brooke Bundy) and handsome Larry
Casey as Elliot a ladies man and lifeguard who get drafted. To avoid being sent
to Vietnam,
the friends pretend to be lovers who desperately want to serve their
country. Their ruse works and they are
denied entry but knowing the army officer (Jack Starrett) at the draft board
will be watching, the duo shack up in a one bedroom apartment in a swinging gay
complex and try to convince their landlord Malcolm (Michael Greer), his partner
(Sebastian Brook), and the resident stud (Christopher Riordan) that they are homosexuals
while keeping Danny’s family and Elliot’s paramours in the dark. But things get thorny especially when Elliot,
at the landlord’s costume party, takes a woman to bed not realizing it’s a guy
in drag. A frustrated drunken Elliot then
starts a fight in a gay bar, which is witnessed by Danny and his unsuspecting
girlfriend leading to further complications and a surprise ending.
Viewing the film nowadays, The Gay Deceivers (produced by Joe Solomon and directed by Bruce
Kessler) is a bit dated with stereotypical gay characters and plays like an
elongated episode of Love, American Style. But in its time this was very daring and trail
blazing. Director Bruce Kessler takes a
sincere approach and knows his audience even giving them glimpses of blonde
Larry Casey’s fine naked behind. With
the hubbub today about gay marriage, it is quite surprising that for a movie
made in the late Sixties Greer and Brook‘s relationship is treated respectfully
and not poked fun at. They come off as
the typical wacky married next-door-neighbors found on any TV sitcom at the
time. Even the gay bar scene is toned
down and not played over-the-top. The
actors all do a surprisingly good job but Greer’s flamboyant queen act becomes
tiresome after about five minutes.
Actor Christopher Riordan who plays Duane was a busy dancing
actor throughout the Sixties. A single father, he took job after job to earn a
living to support his son. Extremely
handsome with an All-American look and persona, Riordan appeared in practically
every beach and Elvis movie from 1964 through 1967 while juggling bit roles in
big budget studio productions and TV shows.
The widely varied films he worked on during this period include Viva Las Vegas, My Fair Lady, Get Yourself a
College Girl, A Swingin’ Summer, The Girls on the Beach, Von Ryan’s Express,
Ski Party, The Loved One, Tickle Me, The Glory Guys, How to Stuff a Wild
Bikini, Village of the Giants, Made in Paris, The Glass Bottom Boat, Hot Rods
to Hell, Thoroughly Modern Millie, Clambake, and Camelot. His dancing prowess
got him noticed especially when Fred Astaire hand picked him to dance with
Barrie Chase on TV’s The Hollywood Palace.
This led Christopher to being also being hired as assistant
choreographer on a number of movies.
However, as was the way back then, he rarely received screen credit
though he finally got on-screen recognition for Fireball 500.
By the late Sixties, Riordan had outlasted a number of the dancing
beach boys and directors began casting him in bigger roles due to his talent
and professionalism. The Gay Deceivers in 1969 was the first
followed by Beyond the Valley of the
Dolls and The Curious Female. Christopher
is still working today. Most recently,
he made guest appearances on the TV comedies House of Carters and Ugly
Betty and performs his cabaret act at AIDS benefits in the Los Angeles area.
Continue reading "TOM LISANTI INTERVIEWS CHRISTOPHER RIORDAN ON "THE GAY DECEIVERS""
MADAME O: DEVIL OF A DOCTOR
A restored Asian cult classic proves hell hath no fury
like a woman wronged, especially one who wields a scalpel.
By Dean Brierly
“Dedicated to medicine…and the cold-blooded destruction of
men!â€
With a tagline like that, you just know you’re onto a
winner. And Madame O (1967), an outlandish, pungent slice of celluloid
kink, doesn’t disappoint. Ostensibly one of the cheap sex movies that flooded
Japanese cinemas in the 1960s (and which eventually morphed into the notorious
“pink†films in the following decade), Madame O transcends its tawdry
provenance, deftly blending the sexploitation, revenge and noir genres into an
oddly contemplative and affecting study of a woman slowly coming apart at the
mental and emotional seams.
The film’s heroine is a beautiful gynecologist in her
mid-30s with a thriving practice and a tragic past. As a 16-year-old girl,
Saeko suffered a gang rape that left her pregnant, infected with syphilis, and
saddled with guilt courtesy of a father who blamed her for provoking the
assault. It’s enough to turn a girl into a retribution-minded man hater.
“Before I realized it, I had grown into a woman who found pleasure only in
revenge—revenge against men for the brutality they had shown me,†Saeko relates
in voiceover. Her payback consists of picking up lonely men in tawdry bars,
taking them into her bed, and cold-bloodedly infecting them with syphilis (a
swift incision and swipe of bacteria-laden cotton) while they snooze in
post-coital bliss. Poetic justice, through a swab darkly.
Saeko’s single-minded quest is untainted by notions of
remorse or guilt at betraying the Hippocratic Oath. Indeed, inflicting rather
than curing disease provokes an exciting and intoxicating dichotomy in her,
another manifestation of her unbalanced psyche. Saeko also strikes back at men
in more oblique fashion, surreptitiously tying her patients’ fallopian tubes so
their husbands will begin to doubt their potency. Some might call that wrong.
Saeko would just call it mixing business with pleasure.
Unfortunately, not all good things last forever. Saeko’s
unabashed pursuit of vindictiveness and vengeance takes an unforeseen turn when
she carelessly becomes pregnant by one of her victims. In one of the film’s
most disturbing sequences, Saeko straps herself onto the operating table and
self-administers an abortion, only to pass out from the pain. Dr. Watanabe, a
recent addition to Saeko’s clinic, discovers her in this compromising position
the next morning and, much to her relief, promises to keep her secret. She is
further impressed by his selflessness and seeming lack of male predatory
impulses. For the first time in her life, Saeko finds herself falling in love,
to the point where she entrusts the good doctor with all the details of her
sordid past. Watanabe remains supportive even after he witnesses a blackmail
attempt by one of her former victims end in murder. Somewhat improbably, he
promptly marries Saeko, who by this time seems convinced that not all men are
devils. But wedded bliss is soon interrupted by a series of events that cast
her white knight in an entirely darker light. The film shifts into noir
territory at this point, with a succession of crosses and double crosses that
culminate in bleak and nihilistic fashion.
Director Seiichi Fukuda, who made a couple dozen such sex
films (almost all of them sadly lost), conjures highly charged widescreen
compositions to evoke Saeko’s twisted odyssey of sexual revenge. His visual
command is particularly effective during her nocturnal hunting forays. At one
point, Fukuda treats the viewer to a provocative close-up of Saeko’s lips as
she caresses them with lipstick, but the eroticism of the image is belied by
her cynical voiceover: “I’m always exhausted after an operation, but cannot
sleep. My nerves are raw. I’m on edge. I get up and go out into the streets and
hunt for easy pickups. I find them. They’re pathetically easy to lure.â€
Madame O is filled with such frissons, including the
abortion sequence, which throbs with grindhouse intensity; and an eye-popping
scene in which Saeko dispatches of a blackmailer’s corpse while clad only in
polka dot bra and panties. Despite such suggestive visuals, Fukuda for the most
part maintains a detached, non-judgmental tone. At times, the film has an
almost documentary-like quality that is enhanced by its extensive use of
black-and-white cinematography. However, occasional color sequences, seemingly
inserted without narrative justification, keep the viewer off balance and
subtly mirror the characters’ discordant emotional states.
Michiko Sakyo (also known as Michiko Aoyama) brings a
studied calm and indomitable resolve to her characterization of Saeko, while
hinting at the mental cracks in her façade. She also possesses the requisite
physical characteristics of a sex film star, and seems comfortable letting it
all hang out in the numerous but relatively restrained sex scenes that punctuate
the narrative. Akihiko Kaminara is effectively creepy as her enigmatic husband,
his face a mask of repressed greed and lust; while Yuichi Minato excels as the
sleaze ball who meets a grisly fate when he tries to play extortion games with
the deadly doctor. An added bonus is the presence of Roman Porno legend Naomi
Tani as a voluptuous minx whose treacherous impulses fit right into the moral
cesspool of voyeurism, adultery and murder.
Like the rest of Fukuda’s output, this perverse gem might
also have been consigned to the waste bin of history if not for Radley
Metzger’s Audubon Films, which distributed an English-language version of Madame
O in the late 1960s and had the foresight to preserve what is the only
remaining copy in existence. Exploitation connoisseurs can also thank Synapse
Films for bringing the film to DVD in a pristine widescreen transfer that does
full justice to Fukuda’s delirious vision. Madame O is a fitting
testament to this unsung craftsman, one who infused Japanese genre cinema with
a uniquely compelling blend of moral complexity and unbridled eroticism.
[Check out www.synapse-films.com
for more transgressive cult classics on DVD.]
We never know what to expect when Cinema Retro's John Exshaw reports on an event - except that it will be from a unique angle... Here's John's first-hand coverage of Robert Redford's recent visit to Trinity College in Dublin...oh, and if you're among those of us who have committed to memory the dialogue from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, you'll find the coverage even more enjoyable.
A Public Interview with Robert Redford presented by the
School of Drama, Film and Music, Trinity College, Dublin – Thursday, 10 July,
2008
Report by John Exshaw – 18/7/08
Raindrops keep falling on my head as I make my way towards
Trinity College, Dublin, for a showdown with the Sundance Kid. On what passes
for a summer’s day in Ireland, Robert Redford has ridden into town for
tomorrow’s commencement ceremony, at which he will receive an honorary
Doctorate of Letters from the country’s most prestigious seat of learning – alma
mater of such luminaries as Jonathan Swift, Oscar Wilde, Bram Stoker, and
Samuel Beckett, to name but a few. Before that, however, he has sportingly
agreed to be interrogated by Michael Dwyer, film critic of The Irish Times,
in a public interview to be held in the college’s Edmund Burke theatre.
I arrive in the modernist eyesore that is the TCD’s Arts
Building and stand in the foyer, pools of water forming round my feet. To be
frank, I’m feeling pretty Randolph Scott – saddle-sore and in no mood for small
talk. It’s not just the shitty weather, nor the fact that I should be working
on my Hennessy article for the next issue of Cinema Retro. No,
what’s riling me – the particular burr under my saddle blanket – is the
following line in an e-mail I received about this evening’s gabfest: “Please
note that at the request of Robert Redford’s publicist no recording is
permitted during this event.†Just like that. No apology, no explanation. No
doubt the Duke would approve but, personally, it’s just the sort of bullshit
that’s liable to get me all fired up. And a fired-up Retro writer ain’t
a pretty sight . . .
This was my first encounter, even at a distance, with that
mythical creature of ill-repute, the Hollywood Publicist, and my first thought,
naturally enough, was what an asshole! Why the hell shouldn’t
journalists be allowed to record what someone says in a public interview in
order to report it accurately? Or, to put it another way, in order to do our
job properly? Is it possible the asshole
in question would prefer his client’s comments to be reported inaccurately?
Or is he (assuming for the moment that the asshole in question is a male
asshole, while not implying that women don’t have every right to be assholes
too) afraid that the interview might fall into the hands of someone who’ll
re-edit it in such a way as to make his client sound, well, like an asshole? If
there are good reasons (at least from a publicist’s point of view) for such a
prohibition, then he should at least have the manners to say what they are. And
if there aren’t, then he should stop being such an asshole.
So, in a fairly ornery mood, I head into the theatre.
There’s no sign of Mr. Redford’s publicist, which is a pity because I’d like to
have given him a piece of my mind. Followed by a Harvey Logan Special in the
nuts. The seats in the theatre are quickly filled by the (mainly female)
audience. Forty minutes after the supposed kick-off, and following an
introduction from Kevin Rockett, head of the School of Drama, Film and Music
and a four-minute compilation of Redford’s Greatest Movie Moments, I’m still
standing in the designated photographers’ area like an unemployed cigar store
Indian, camera in hand, awaiting the star of the show. I remember something
George Roy Hill said in The Making of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
about Redford having to listen to Paul Newman’s lame jokes while Newman had to
endure Redford’s habitual tardiness. That was 39 years ago, and it looks like
nothing’s changed on the latter score. Well, they do say consistency is a
virtue . . .
Finally, the doors open and the Great Man – indeed the Great
Waldo Pepper – makes his entrance, setting off some mild (mainly female)
hysteria in the audience. I grab some pictures and hotfoot it back to my seat.
By the time I’ve put my camera away and got my notebook open, Redford has
nearly finished his thoughts on what Dwyer terms the possible “regime changeâ€
in America in the forthcoming presidential election. Looking back now on my
notes, I see the following: “Yes … inexperienced … good … need for change …
yesterday … age is an issue.†What on earth does it mean? Maybe something like,
“Yes, we need a change. John McCain is inexperienced but was good yesterday.
Barack Obama’s age is an issue.†Or maybe it was the other way round? But as I
can’t play it back on my trusty Dictaphone, you’ll just have to make sense of
it for yourselves, won’t you? (for which you can thank that asshole . . .)
Finally, following some recollections about how, when he was
studying in Paris, Redford was “humiliated†by his own ignorance of American
politics, the talk moves on to movies and I’m able to get my act together and
focus. And so, taking our cue from the title sequence of Butch Cassidy and
the Sundance Kid, you can take it that “Most of what follows is true†. . .
Continue reading "ROBERT REDFORD: THE SUNDANCE KID IN A PLACE CALLED TRINITY"
By Dean Brierly
Alexander Mundy: “Let me get this straight…I can catch
complete episodes of the entire first season of It Takes a Thief on
hulu.com?â€
Noah Bain: “Not quite, Al. But how does 14 out of the
first 16 grab you?â€
Alexander Mundy: “Terrific!â€
Nobody could lay as hip an inflection on the word “terrificâ€
as Robert Wagner when he starred as Alexander Mundy in the coolest
adventure/espionage series of the late sixties, It Takes a Thief. During
the show’s three-year run from 1968 to 1970, the suave and sophisticated Wagner
was the hottest thing going, even edging James Coburn (temporarily, at least)
in the hippest actor sweepstakes. As anyone among the Cinema Retro generation
knows, Mundy was a world-class thief whose one mistake landed him in San Jobel
Prison. The man who put him there? Noah Bain, head of a shadowy government spy
agency known as the SIA. In the show’s pilot episode, Bain offered Mundy an
expedient if unconventional way out: steal for the government in exchange for a
full pardon. Along with the gig came a cover identity that appealed to every
man’s inner hedonist: Mundy would pose as an international playboy replete with
swank estate and a succession of beautiful SIA operatives to assist him. The
catch was a Big Brother surveillance system inside the mansion and strict
orders to keep hands off the girls. Needless to say, Mundy routinely
circumvented the SIA cameras and subverted whatever scruples the ladies
possessed.
When he wasn’t macking on Bain’s private reserve, Mundy kept
busy pulling off a string of high wire capers in the world’s hottest jet set
locations—all without breaking a sweat. Unlike the preening poseurs currently
afflicting Hollywood,
Wagner’s cool was organic and understated. As Alexander Mundy, he projected a
breezy self-assurance untainted by arrogance or condescension, and maintained
his sangfroid in the face of the most dangerous assignments Noah Bain threw his
way, thanks to an unparalleled and seemingly inexhaustible skill set. Mundy
could neutralize any security system, crack any safe, outwit any adversary and,
not least, talk his way into the arms of just about any woman in sight. Little
wonder he was the envy of every kid who came of age during the show’s original
run.
As an actor, Wagner had been building up to this breakout
role throughout the 1960s. The first intimation of his Al Mundy persona can be
glimpsed in The Pink Panther (1963), in which he plays the smooth,
womanizing nephew of jewel thief David Niven. When he discovers his uncle’s cat
burglar kit midway through the film, one can almost sense the actor’s dawning
realization of his future career path. Wagner followed up with strong
performances in Harper (1966), How I Spent My Summer Vacation
(1967) and Banning (1967), each role adding further gloss to his
onscreen charisma. By the time Wagner did the pilot episode (titled Magnificent
Thief), his combination of physical grace and urbane demeanor was smoother
than a shaken-not-stirred vodka martini.
As great as Wagner was, however, It Takes a Thief
wouldn’t have been half as effective without the powerful presence of Malachi
Throne as Noah Bain. Who can forget Noah's immortal line during the
scintillating split-screen credit sequence set to Dave Grusin’s badass theme
tune: “Oh, look, Al, I’m not asking you to spy, just asking you to steal.†The
stage-trained actor with the deep, distinctive voice was all over the cult TV
map during the 1960s and ’70s. With his burly physique and stolid, slab-like
face, Throne excelled at playing gruff authority figures, yet his keen
intelligence and surprisingly wide emotional range added fascinating layers to
his performances. The potent onscreen chemistry he and Wagner displayed gave a
real edge to their characters' adversarial relationship. Bain was a hard ass
with a ruthless streak and frequently threatened to ship Mundy back to prison
if he stepped out line. Yet he also maintained a healthy respect for Mundy’s
criminal talents, as well as a grudging affection for the master crook himself.
And in his own conservative way, Noah Bain was kind of hip too, matching Mundy
in glib repartee and delightedly quashing his amorous aspirations at every
opportunity. In the episode “When Thieves Fall In,†Bain surprises Mundy and a
female SIA operative in a forbidden clinch. “We were just playing chess,†the
flustered agent explains. “You’re lucky I arrived in time,†Bain retorts. “One
more move and he’d have had you mated.â€
Throne’s complexity and grit
were sorely missed when he left the series after the first two seasons. Edward
Binns did a competent job as Mundy’s new boss Wally Powers, but he just
couldn't match the Malachi Man. Ironically, it was Throne’s own rebellious
streak that resulted in his leaving the show. “They had this idea of shooting
the whole season in Italy,
but they wanted me to stay behind and give Wagner’s character…orders over the
phone. I told them if I didn’t go I’d quit, and I did. The show didn’t last
another half a season.â€
Unlike some programs that take time to dial in their
formula, It Takes a Thief was perfect right out of the box. The show’s
basic premise, fusing the heist and espionage genres, was a stroke of mad
genius. Watching Mundy conduct his felonious pursuit of secret documents,
jewels, missing scientists and whatever else the SIA needed stolen was
fascinating in itself, but the spy tropes worked into the mix made things even
more intriguing, giving the writers greater creative latitude to explore fresh
narrative directions. As a result, Mundy could channel the larcenous vibe of
Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief while simultaneously tapping into the
Cold War dramatics of such contemporaneous shows as I Spy and Mission:
Impossible. But no matter which way the scenarios swung, they were all
invested with the kind of light touch that seems impossible to reproduce today.
All three seasons maintained a nicely judged balance of humor and drama, never
veering into camp (like The Man From U.N.C.L.E. did during its third
season) or becoming overly serious.
Despite its iconic status and the respect it commands from
legions of faithful fans, It Takes a Thief, for reasons known only to
the Home Entertainment Gods, has yet to appear on DVD. When one considers that
seemingly every other television show from that era has made it to DVD
(including the most mindless retro rubbish imaginable), one has to wonder what
license holder Universal Studios is waiting for. Fans looking to get their fill
of Mundy’s adventures have had to make do with videotapes or gray market DVD-Rs
of dubious quality—until now. The good folks at www.hulu.com,
a free video streaming site founded by NBC Universal and News Corp., have
stepped into the breach by making available 14 season one episodes in their
entirety, with limited commercial interruptions.
Many fans consider the first season the best of the three.
The stories were more inventive, the suspense was wound a little tighter, and
the humor shaded a bit darker. (Here’s Mundy’s sardonic take on an East
European security official: “The cat with the ball-bearing eyes is the man
currently starring in the Baltic police department’s theater of cruelty.â€) The
Mundy-Bain interplay was also at its most contentious and compelling (although
this aspect became slightly diluted when Mundy became a freelance operative in
the second season). Even the faux European locales, courtesy of Universal’s
back lot, don’t detract from the show’s sophisticated, escapist allure.
Watching episodes like “Turnabout,†“The Radomir Miniature†and “Locked in the
Cradle of the Keep†is to be reminded of a vanished entertainment era that
privileged intelligence, wit and style.
The program’s celebrated guest stars also made memorable
impressions during the 1968 season. In “To Steal a Battleship,†Bill Bixby
plays a rival thief who muscles in on Al’s assignment, mistakenly believing
they’re both after a priceless necklace, when in fact Mundy is interested only
in recovering NATO defense documents. Bixby is excellent as the conniving
competitor, adding some darker colors to his standard nice-guy persona. Season
one also featured two of Susan Saint James’ five guest appearances as Charlene
“Charlie†Brown, another fellow thief and Al’s occasional love interest. In the
aforementioned “When Thieves Fall In,†Mundy must steal a sable coat with a map
of I.C.B.M. missile sites sewn into the lining, and so enlists Charlie’s help
to pull a double switch. St. James and Wagner spark off one another like erotic
electrons in this episode while trading one-liners with the timing of a
seasoned comedy team. Mundy: “What happened?†Charlene Brown: “Chloroform with a
vodka chaser.†Mundy: “You’re not supposed to spray that stuff on yourself!â€
Such exchanges are typical of the series’ unbeatable mix of
action, suspense, humor and that elusive and seemingly out of fashion quality
known as style. Short of Robert Wagner once again donning his cat burglar garb
and breaking into Universal’s corporate black tower to liberate the original
copies of It Takes a Thief, Hulu will likely remain the best place to
indulge your fix of this television classic. Here’s hoping that seasons two and
three will soon follow, so that Alexander Mundy fans everywhere will have
further occasion to say, “Terrific!â€
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