Allan Fish Online Film Festival 2020 (Day #5): Way Out – television series – “I Heard You Calling Me” (episode 4)

by Sam Juliano

Those who were fortunate and privileged to know Allan or just even to cross his path immediately understood he was someone quite out of the ordinary.  His incomparable obsessiveness guaranteed that any venture he embarked upon would be afforded a maximum level of accountability.  Most know him for his cinematic prowess, the go to guy for reference, film availability and quality control specs.  Some also knew that movies, astonishingly enough, were not his sole focus.  He was a remarkably astute historian and could hold his own with anyone hankering to discuss music, theater and soccer and his grasp of literature from around the world past and present was beyond exceptional.  His still-unpublished massive tome, though primarily about the cinema, also includes a masterly investigation of television, a field Allan was as passionate about as any other, even to the extent of insisting there be no differentiation with its most towering achievements with those comparable film works.  Any list Allan composed invariably included television mixed together in a somehow comfortable melting pot with motion pictures.  He was a fervent aficionado of British small screen landmarks -often by his own admission serving as his country’s mercenary with the exclusive intent of turning heads of those he derided as American xenophobes.  Mind you Allan was attuned to the best in American television as well and often championed the shows we all do, but he was educated on the international scene and was always proud of Britain, which he once boldly told me eclipsed American television, despite the long list of great shows produced stateside.

This takes me to our family’s trip to England in 2013 when we spent two weeks in London and at Allan’s home in Kendal.  A running joke at that time was a carry-over from online ribbing with Allan as an exasperated host who was beside himself with my lifelong infatuation with American anthology television, particularly the horror and science fiction shows that originally aired in the late 50s through the early and mid 60s.  In a secret conversation with my five kids Allan instructed them to get hold of my DVD collections and books on Boris Karloff’s Thriller, The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits and Alfred Hitchcock Presents and hide them so I couldn’t access them anymore.   To be sure Allan himself loved (and included in his book with perceptive and generous entries) them well enough, but were not programs he considered at the forefront of his life.  Due to my sometimes excruciating nostalgic slant and my fondness for anthology television I directed conversations with my friend to these shows much too often and the result was sometimes hysterical chiding.  Allan wasn’t always willing to embrace my incessant defense that this era was my “specialty”, as he knew only too well -as he did when I attended Manhattan movie theaters to see classic films for the umpteenth time – that watching stuff over and over came at the expense of delaying the negotiation of new discoveries was patently absurd.  My kids to this day are in stitches when relating what was said in those talks, though based on our phone and e mail chats I think I have a very good idea.

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Review: Crisis Hotline

by Sam Juliano

The perspective of Simon, a receptionist at a LGBT crisis hotline is that callers aren’t anywhere close to their own demise but rather are venting on the sustained discrimination they face at the workplace and in social circles because of their sexual orientation.  Because he’s convinced he’s holding down the fort to placate gays looking to find support in improving their pedigree, he is totally unprepared when he is regaled with the real thing after a co-worker retires one evening leaving him solo to engage with a deeply troubled young man.  Danny (Christian Gabriel) immediately announces that he will off himself after all is said and done, but commences to leave no stone unturned in documenting  how and why he has gotten to this point of no return.  Mark Schwab, the director of Crisis Hotline employs a progressively riveting flashback structure that serves as a re-enactment of how an initially blissful relationship becomes compromised by dread and suppression.  When Danny is shown falling for a young man named Kyle, Simon isn’t yet convinced he has anything beyond a final coda of unrequited love, though of course people have done themselves in for less.

Schwab depicts an idyllic relationship (a real nice touch is the director’s series of vignettes showcasing a relationship progression from “a coffee date,” to “a scary movie date” to “a hiking date” and then to the consummation of “a dinner date”) suffused with the exuberance of sex and mutual affection, seemingly so strong as to mitigate any dark secrets threatening the state of euphoria.  In Brian O’Donnell and Sasha King’s 2015 Akron, a gay romance temporarily derailed by the revelation of a tragedy that linked their families, Benny and Christopher are forced to re-evaluate their relationship until they are able to sort out sibling animosities that are first thought to be irreconcilable.  But where Akron’s lovers could not be held responsible for the sins of their fathers so to speak, there is an ugly act of betrayal lurking in Schawab’s film, one projecting the same kind of permanence after Gene Forrester shook the tree branch in a wooden enclave on the grounds of Phillips Exeter Academy in John Knowles’ novel A Separate Peace, crippling his friend Finny, who later died as a result of his injury and operation.  In Crisis Hotline like the Knowles novel a character can’t control what the other is thinking, hence fate and circumstance trump noble thoughts or intentions.

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Indicator/Powerhouse blu rays: Allan Fish Online Film Festival Day #8

Dearest Allan:

In pondering my submission for the third annual online film festival at Wonders in the Dark, my mind drifted back to some of our classic four-way e mail correspondences.  Jamie Uhler of Chicago and Maurizio Roca of Brooklyn always helped to make said communications lively, opinionated and sometimes rowdy.  Roughly about two years before you departed this earthly realm to accept your current position as celestial authority of all things cinematic you were hot to trot to discuss DVD-blu ray labels and how in your view a then up and coming Region 2 UK company named Arrow had practically eclipsed longtime poll position occupants Criterion as the most exciting label out there with the most passionate and discerning film aficionados.  I’m sure you will fondly recall how we lined up on this matter and how we presented our cases for our champion.  In proclaiming Arrow as the top dog for collectors circa 2014 you cited some persuasive facts that at the time I was hard-pressed to dispute, regardless of where I stood when posting my numerical list.  After all, Arrow gave us sparkling new blu ray transfers of the Roger Corman Poe series, the Mario Bava collection, the lion’s share of Italian giallos, killer box sets on Walerian Borowcyck, Jacques Rivette, Eric Rohmer, Rainer Warner Fassbinder, and your all-time hero Yoshida not to mention some world classics like The Bicycle Thief, Ashes and Diamonds, The Night of the Hunter, Sweet Smell of Success, The Apartment, The Human  Condition and The Naked City among others in countering Criterion with even more extensive Region 2 incarnations of these masterpieces.  While we can safely assert that Arrow began as a niche label specializing in horror -and their more recent 4K transfer of John Carpenter’s The Thing, City of the Dead, and Horror Express have sustained that commitment.  Their catalog horror like the original The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Last House on the Left, The Hellraiser Trilogy, Carrie, The Hills Have Eyes, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, Theater of Blood and The Crazies to name just a few continue to sell and remain in print.  Arrow have released superlative editions of Network, Donnie Darko, Children of Men and Gosford Park as you know well matching and surpassing their Region 1 counterparts on whatever label.  Allan, you always evaluated the complete package, and rightly pointed to the fabulous Arrow booklets which continue to surpass Criterion who have now downgraded to leaflets, the art (Jamie as I recall had mixed feelings on that front) and a bevy of desirable extras on nearly every release.  Since you moved on to better places where new students sit before you daily waiting to be enlightened, Arrow has maintained their strong reputation and impressive release schedule, but I suspect we’d be in accord that their product hasn’t been quite as captivating.  Heck, how could it be?  The blu ray business in general isn’t now what it used to be, though few are thinking it is on  an irreversible downswing.  Collectors like you and I are there and in a niche market, buyers like the passionate herds of book lovers who still haven’t warmed to kindle or e book alternatives and repeatedly contend a 500 year old technology still reigns supreme there are die-hards will never trade allegiance.  If Arrow has held the stage among blu ray aficionados, it has now been topped albeit marginally by another Region 2 company who have gone above and beyond in catering to a collectors market who want the best possible quality but also all those extras that fans are hoping for but do not always receive due to financial constraints.

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Allan Fish Online Film Festival: Red Sky at Morning (1971)

by Sam Juliano

American coming of age films became all the rage in the early 70’s.  Frank Perry’s sexually candid Last Summer appeared midway through 1969.  Peter Bogdonovich’s masterpiece The Last Picture Show, based on an acclaimed novel by Larry McMurtry took this sub-genre to new heights and Robert Mulligan’s Summer of ’42 showcased a splendid convergence of mood, atmosphere and period flavor.  Both released in 1971, the same year as the now virtually forgotten Red Sky at Morning, directed by James Goldstone from a popular novel of the same name by Richard Bradford.  1972 saw the release of two other long-anticipated novel-to-film adaptations, A Separate Peace, based on the great novel by John Knowles, and Bless the Beasts and Children from the Glendon Swarthout novella.

Red Sky has inexplicably been ignored on video tape and DVD and is only available in practically unwatchable bootlegs and online via a print hardly better.  Yet as Allan would often note when coming upon rarities he long sought after: “It is all we have and we much make do.”  Indeed there was a time when home video was a fledgling format and our acquisitions on tape of film treasures like The Passion of Joan of Arc and Nosferatu in beat-up-prints were thought at the time to be of great collector’s value when consumers hadn’t a clue how continued improvements were just around the corner.  But now, with the advent of greatly enhanced DVDs and the pristine quality of blu-rays it is unusual to come across a 70s film so poorly transferred, but the you tube incarnation is fairly decent. The aforementioned Last Summer and another early 70s film by Frank Perry, Diary of a Mad Housewife have not fared better.

Goldstone’s film is set in New Mexico during World War II, where an Alabama teenager relocates with his mother after the naval officer father has departed for his service.  The boy must deal with the culture clash solo and this includes race relations, a Hispanic bully, a flirtatious tomboy, and even the destructive ways of his mother who doesn’t seem to value her reputation.  Richard Thomas, the lead who plays this “nervous nelly” teen in his signature fashion (his previous work in Last Summer is comparable), one some critics at the time likened to “G rated James Dean.”  Thomas, who of course achieved his greatest fame as John Boy in “The Waltons” tries hard to fit in with the pack, and his scenes with Catherine Burns are especially compelling.  To be sure Red Sky at Morning sometimes loses focus as it tries to bring together sometimes myriad sub-plots:   Throughout the course of the movie, Joshua not only cares for his troubled mother, manages the household help, and befriends an eccentric local artist, but is introduced to a host of issues — including troubled race-relations, sex, bullying, and more — at his new high school. For instance, the local twin tarts — colorfully named Venery Ann, and Velma Mae — aggressively pursue Joshua and his friend Steenie, much to the ire of their shotgun-toting father; meanwhile, Joshua is bullied by two stereotypical Chicano hoodlums, the latter of whom is unnaturally protective of his busty yet religiously pious and naive sister who goes on to meet an awful fate at the hands of psychopathic Aniov.  

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22. Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955-1962)

 

by Sam Juliano

Charles Gounod (1818-1893) was a renowned French composer perhaps best known for his version of Ave Maria, based on a work by Bach, though his two big operas, Mignon and Romeo et Juliette have continued to hold the stage. The latter in fact has been a staple at the Metropolitan Opera over the past several decades.    His mother was a pianist and his father was an artist. Gounod studied at the Paris Conservatoire, and later married Zimmermann’s daughter after he finally abandoned desires to enroll in the seminary. He won the Prix de Rome in 1839 for his cantata Fernand, and enjoyed sustained popularity during his lifetime.  For television fans Gounod’s fame is for the iconic theme music of a venerated show that ran for seven years during the height of the baby boomer era.  Indeed Gounod’s quirky composition, Marche funebre d’une marionette (The Funeral March of a Marionette) was a godsend of sorts for film and television giant Alfred Hitchcock who employed this simultaneously cheerful and spooky piece for what is arguably the most famous opening of any show in the history of the small screen.  Hitchcock is said to have chosen this theme after recalling its employment in Murnau’s 1927 masterpiece Sunrise, though its use in Harold Lloyd’s first talkie Welcome Dancer must have been equally ubiquitous.  As Gounod’s music launches the screen showcases the enlarged letters of the show’s title, which segues into the iconic caricature of the director -which he drew himself- appearing in silhouette, which is followed by Hitchcock himself walking to the center of the screen to eclipse the image in side profile.  Then we are delightfully regaled with the inimitable master of ceremonies’ trademark “Good Evening” before he launches on his distinctly British sounding deadpan tirade of the coming mise en scene or the pervading theme of the half-hour episode about to commence.  Sometimes his appearance is pensive or pedestrian, just as often he is adored in clothing that corresponds to the teleplay at hand.  In one show about hypnotism Hitchcock is shown laying on a cot answering a moderator while under the influence; in others we see him dressed in rain gear at a fishing wharf or with a noose around his neck before an execution.  Whatever the mood that is established in the episode there is always the opening levity and the final post-script when Hitch returns again to tell the audience the fate of the murderer or one of the characters as a way as he later explained to interviewers “to hold the moral ground.”

John Crosby, in his November 16, 1955 review of the series in the New York Herald Tribune opined that “the best thing about Alfred Hitchcock Presents is Alfred Hitchcock presenting”.  While such an assessment might seem like a takedown of the actual episodes themselves, it mostly accentuated the significance of the masters-of-ceremonies role in the show.  While Rod Serling in The Twilight Zone, Boris Karloff in Thriller and John Newland in One Step Beyond were essential to their respective presentations, both to established tone and impart some narrative and/or thematic information, Hitchcock’s moderator gig by its very intent as well as delivery was markedly mordant, with even the show’s sponsors often satirically chided. Hence, irregardless of who wrote or directed the actual episodes (Hitchcock directed 17 of them) the imprint of the creator extended from the introduction and epilogues to the tone of most of the teleplays.  No anthology series before or since has operated with such vital incongruity.

Alfred Hitchcock Presents began its formidable run in 1955.  It ran for seven years in the half hour format, was finally cancelled after the impressive run (unprecedented for an anthology show) and then immediately returned wearing different clothes as The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, which aired for three years, concluding in 1965 after 93 episodes, running at 50 minutes each, double the length of the earlier series.  Though some treatments of Alfred Hitchcock Presents opt to include the three one-hour years as part of the original show, and others describe it as a continuation, for the purposes of this countdown they were considered separately. The Alfred Hitchcock Hour landed a spot on the second part of the countdown and will be considered in another essay.  The seven years of the half hour show yielded 268 episodes, of which one -the seventh season “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” was never aired because it was perceived as too violent, though it was widely seen years later and is presently part of all the show’s video incarnations.  The tone of the episodes ranges from crime and murder (the most prevalent themes) to thriller, horror and deadpan comedy.  There are a few very moving human stories in the mix as well and one of these will be featured as my own #1 favorite in the entire series run.  The narrative element that seems to unite most of the episodes is that many people are reprehensible human beings.  The slightest provocation can often lead to someone plotting another’s demise, and in numerous instances a wife, husband or close friend are bumped off for monetary gain.  The series is largely a succession of morality tales in “what goes around comes around” mode.  Sinners will almost always get their proper comeuppance, and often in much more elaborate terms than their own victims received.  The ironic twist endings far better manifested themselves in the half-hour shows, where they are more direct and not obscured by a wider ranging plot, though the hour longs shows had other assets to elevate them

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Allan Fish Online Festival: Final Day – “You Were Like a Wild Chrysanthemum” and “The Outcast”

by Sam Juliano

 

Dearest Allan:

It has been almost ten months since you departed this earthly realm.  Lucille and I won’t ever forget the last time we spoke, which was by phone two days before you left us on August 29, 2016.  You struggled to speak, but you moved us to the core of our beings with your achingly emotional regard for our eleven year relationship.  Though we saw each other on three occasions, adding up to sixty-seven days in each other’s company over that all-too-brief period, our friendship was fueled by daily correspondence and more marathon phone calls than I have had with any person during my lifetime.  I can’t remember any other person I fought with more regularly nor can I even fathom the vitriolic nature of some e mails we shared in a chain with fellow friends from Brooklyn and Chicago.  Those contentious rows almost always ended with phone conversations initiated by you, with peace branches being accepted on both ends.  I fondly recall the first time we ever spoke on the phone back in 2005, when I recklessly dialed your Kendal number and spoke with you nearly four hours, erroneously thinking I had unlimited time.  I took an eight-hundred and forty dollar hit that day, one that had you and your mum deeply mortified over the colossal gaffe.  As you recall you felt so bad over it that you sent me one-hundred and fifty dollars worth of DVDs to ease the pain, but that now laughable baptism under fire led to more Sunday afternoon conversations than I can remotely recall.  Hence, when you told Lucille that she, I and our family “made my life worth living” you immediately and for all time erased all the acrimony and malice, validating in those tearfully impassioned words “what I say about someone is one thing, what I feel about him is another.”  Just two months before you shattered us with your untimely adieu, you consoled me on the phone after the tragic passing of my brother Joe’s oldest son at age thirty-six.  I shared my eulogy of him with you and you did all you could, even monitoring my own state of grief with Lucille.  Though you yourself began to have seizures at that time -a short while after the dreaded cancer had returned- you did all you could from 3,000 miles away to ease my pain.  You had all that you could handle and them some, yet you had something there left for me.  Whatever time I have left, I won’t ever forget your deepest concern for a friend at a time when your own life was hanging in the balance.  Of course, I won’t likewise ever lose sight of the fact that when I was given the news of Brian’s sudden death (drug related) I was driving on a highway about an hour west of my home.  I jerked the steering wheel and pulled to the side of the road overcome by grief.  The very first thing I did before even allowing such catastrophic news to settle in was to reach you on FB message to appraise you of this horrific event.

Such was the nature of daily communication that as you will fondly recall was in the neighborhood of at least a dozen back and forth e mails, new release announcements, links to other sites and reviews and general banter that often concerned personal matters, finances and family related issues.  Our shared site contains many priceless exchanges, and there isn’t  anything I wouldn’t do to have you back as the yang to my ying.  Heck I just heard over the last few days that you told one of our mutual friends that there was a time you’d have to “rethink our friendship” as a result of my being generally unimpressed by the television show The Wire.  That quip made me think of when you thought I deserved life imprisonment for championing  Franco Zeffirelli’s Brother Sun Sister Moon and Bruce Beresford’s Driving Miss Daisy.  Those were precious exchanges, and I tear up just reliving them.

But I know you were taken from us for a specific reason.  You had done your job here, and are now bringing the cinema to people who left their earthly origins much too soon, much as you did.  After all your job was to write a film encyclopedia for use by newbies and those expanding their horizons.  Now you have others to teach, to spread the word, to delineate what is exceptional and what is disposable.  As always your persuasiveness is irresistible, a kind of pitch like the one Ed Wynn gave to Mr. Death in The Twilight Zone’s season one gem “One For the Angels.”  When Wynn departed he brought along his box of goodies so he could make pitches to those in heaven, much as your transported file copies of your book are probably all the rage in the movie paradise not too far beyond the pearly gates.  The old phrase “I wish I were a fly on the wall” applies to me as I try to surmise what your lectures are entailing.  Though I quite understand and respect that this is a one way correspondence – you are allowed to read it but cannot respond before the point of departure for others, I have still come to speculate how’d you’d respond to new releases based on your prior assessment of works bearing thematic or stylistic similarities.  I have you down for 3.5 for La La Land, 4.5 for Moonlight, 3.5 for Fences, 4.5 for Indignation, 3.0 for Jackie and the top 5.0 for Manchester for the Sea.  If like you I am fortunate enough to get up there at some point, I would like to compare notes on these and many other releases both old and new.  I am sure you are celebrating over the Arrow blu ray release of the long-unavailable Rainer Warner Fassbinder television release, Eight Hours Don’t Make A Day.  I know that you and Jamie Uhler had many discussions about it, but were doubtful it would ever experience the light of day for cinephiles.  But late in July it will become a reality, following in the paths of your beloved Yoshida, Rivette and Fassbinder sets.

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48. Them! (1954)

by Sam Juliano

Throughout history, compassionate minds have pondered the dark and disturbing question: what is society to do with those members who are a threat to society, those malcontents and misfits whose behavior undermines and destroys the foundations of civilization? Different ages have found different answers. Misfits have been burned, branded and banished. Today, on this planet Earth, the criminal is incarcerated in humane institutions…..or he is executed. Other planets use other methods. This is the story of how the perfectionist rulers of the planet Zanti attempted to solve the problem of the Zanti misfits.        The Outer Limits, “The Zanti Misfits”

The 1963-4 science fiction television series The Outer Limits ran for a scant season and a half, producing forty-nine episodes until ABC cancelled it after was pitted against the Jackie Gleason Show.  The show’s moody textured look, eerieness and indebtedness to German Expressionism set it apart from its era’s other major anthology work, The Twilight Zone, which for all its narrative brilliance was shot conventionally.   Of course The Outer Limits was a one-hour program as opposed to the other which ran a half hour for all of its five seasons save for the fourth.  While such science fiction luminaries like Gene Roddenbery have admitted that the influences The Outer Limits exerted on Star Trek is incalcuable it can’t be argued that retrospectively The Outer Limits owes some of its own ideas to 1950’s sci-fi cinema.  Indeed the most celebrated episode in the run of the show is “The Zanti Misfits” which features ant-like, rat-sized aliens who exhibit human faces.  Representatives of this alien world by interplanetary communication ask that Earth provide a penal colony for its criminals.  Set in a California desert the show winds down with the complete obliteration of the creatures and expected reprisals, but Earth officials are quickly thanked for doing something that their own non-violent race cannot.  In the closing narration an alien spokesperson refers to Earthings as “practiced executioners.”

This theme of the total annihilation of a hostile force, also set in an arid southwestern terrain, and showcasing menacing ant-like invaders is the subject of Them!, a 1954 landmark film that is uniformly regarded as the first of the run of the “Big Bug” features that spooled out over the decade.  While “The Zanti Misfits” is patterned after Them!, the 1954 work was an encore of sorts to the The Beast of 20,000 Fathoms, in that both share a single cautionary theme against the use of nuclear weapons.  We’ve seen a more didactic use of the theme employed in films like 1959’s On the Beach, which focused on the after effects of a nuclear war, but the science fiction umbrella allows for a far less preachy approaach and one predicated on entertainment in good vs. evil mode.  Warner Brothers studio head Jack Warner, aiming to capitalize on the spectacular finantial success of Beast –made for $200,00, and grossing 5 million- doubled the budget, lengthened the running time and even gave serious consideration to color, 3-D and widescreen, though these embellishments never materialized due to their incapatability with the F/X process. Warner attempted to make Them! like Beast in scene-by-scene manner , employing the documentary style rather than embracing the monster effects of a horror film, and he even encored Cecil Kellaway’s ironic scientist from the earlier film with the affable thespian Edmund Gwenn, who is as patient here as he was when he portrayed jolly old St. Nick, but in the end with markedly less compassion.

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83. It! The Terror from Beyond Space (1958)

by Sam Juliano

Another word for Mars is death.            

Edward Cahn’s It! The Terror from Beyond Space remains a prime example of a modestly budgeted 50’s science fiction film that was gloriously resurrected on television after a theatrical run fueled by the drive-ins.  In the New York City market it remained a staple on WPIX’s Chiller Theater, where it was rightly perceived as a horror/sci-fi hybrid, and aimed squarely at the baby bommer generation.  The original title, The Vampire from Beyond Space is a better appraisal of the movie’s central conflict, which is variation of sorts on another 1958 genre classic The Blob, but the film is now mainly celebrated as the inspiration for Alien,  a mighty acknowledgement, especially for a standard programmer in an era inundated with this brand.  Mario Bava’s Planet of the Vampires (inexplicably missing from this countdown) even with the decisive lean towards horror, is another film with striking similarities to It!)  The future as depicted in the film is scarely fifteen years away -1973- which is only four years after man first stepped foot on the moon.  But the Jerome Bixby (Twilight Zone’s “It’s A Good Life”; Star Trek’s “Mirror, Mirror”) penned script relied on what appeared to be rapidly advancing technology, bolstered in part by the success of Sputnik the previous year, and the Cold War space competition that could very well see the U.S. negotiated not one but two missions back-to-back amidst the tensions associated with trying to exceed the other.

The rubber-clad terror that has invariably reduced the Martian physiology to that of the title protagonist showcased in Creature from the Black Lagoon is a reptilian monster with a singular aim of killing all who come in its path.  There is nothing remotely sophisticated in both the plot and the character motivations exhibited in It! The Terror from Beyond Space, neither does the story arc veer into unexpected directions.  Yet, there can be no question that once the suspense begins to build, it has the macabre allure of something like Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None, where the question isn’t “if” but “how” and “when.”

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Tribeca Review: For the Love of Spock

by Sam Juliano

One of the most beloved characters ever created for a television series is one that is now become as a cultural icon, if not a worldwide phenomenon.  The Vulcan Spock was brought on to serve as science officer on the starship Enterprise for the pilot of a new futuristic series in 1966 by the show’s architect and Executive Producer, Gene Roddenberry, who insisted above network objection that his alien character be maintained beyond the debut appearance.  Spock was the only character on the show, titled Star Trek that was specifically written for an actor.  That fairly young but well-traveled thespian, Leonard Nimoy brought physical confirmation to what Roddenberry had envisioned, and with some crucial tinkering like the employment of pointed ears, Spock’s popularity even eclipsed that of the show’s central protagonist, Captain James T. Kirk, played by William Shatner.  The fascination with Spock was and continues to be his logical demeanor and lack of emotions.  Playing yang to Shatner’s ying Nimoy helped to forge one of television’s most indelible pairings, one that defined casting chemistry, and continued to captivate viewers from all walks of life in virtually all age groupings in the decades that followed the show’s three year run from 1966 to 1999.

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Tribeca Review: Midsummer in Newtown

by Sam Juliano

The unconscionably horrific events that unfolded in idyllic Newtown, Connecticut on the morning of December 14, 2012 left a world in cathartic disbelief.  Three and a half years later a mere reference rekindles the darkest memories that can be envisioned.  Inevitably some brave -some might frame them in a much more unflattering light- documentary filmmakers sought to painfully recall the specifics and wider implications of a crime so unthinkable that many choose not to deal with it in conversation, much less in any comprehensive medium that will bring numbing grief left in a holding pattern a renewed potency.  The human stories surrounding the families who lost children at Sandy Hook Elementary School on that fateful day dominated the internet for many months, and the killer whose name is often unspoken was leading search engine inquiries, and typically unrestrained local tabloids.  Indeed to this date in time there remain unsettled lawsuits on behalf of the victims’ families -20 first graders and six adults including the school’s principal were gunned down after the killer shot his way through glass panels at the building’s entry point, from which point he randomly stalked and shot at classes scurrying for cover.  The deranged 20 year-old who lived on the other side of town on Yogananda Drive, had killed his mother in her sleep with one of the cadre of weapons kept in the house and later turned the Bushmaster semiautomatic rifle on himself as the first responders entered the school.  There were heroes, teachers who sacrificed their own lives for their students, and a few others -students fleeing after the killer’s weapon apparently jammed and one first grader who played dead- who were on the right side of luck, and there are forever shattered families who can never move beyond the utter senselessness of the tragedy.   The horror particularly -and understandably- brought the calls for gun control to deafening levels, with the New York Daily News leading a continuing crusade against anyone sympathetic to weapons providers or legislators sympathetic to their cause.  Just a few weeks ago Democrat presidential candidate Bernie Sanders was strongly criticized for his failure to hold gun store owners responsible, in what seemed to be a very dubious position for the Vermont Senator to make at this time.

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