Shows
I’ve Watched:
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Shows
I’ve Added:
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The Loner Poirot Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea
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F Troop Nichols World War I
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One series that wrapped up recently is Rod Serling's The Loner, the 1965-66 Western starring Lloyd Bridges as William Colton, a Civil War veteran traveling through the West in search of a meaningful life. The series ran for 26 episodes (most of which were written by Serling), and bear all the trademarks of typical Serling stories: provocative ideas based on a strong moral sense, with messages that frequently hammer us over the head with their lack of subtlety.
That's not necessarily meant to be a criticism, by the way; there's only so much character development that can be accomplished within the structure of a half-hour drama (minus commercials), and by definition we should expect things to unfold at a more rapid pace than if the running time is longer. The stories are, without exception, presented in a literate and thoughtful way, and Bridges delivers his lines with a firmness and conviction. As a result, The Loner is rarely less than good and occasionally better than that, and the storylines are almost always worthy of thought afterwards, even when they fall short of their potential.
Aiding Suchet in making the show so watchable is a brilliant supporting cast, including Hugh Fraser as Captain Hastings, Poirot's loyal, if occasionally dim, associate. As is the case with Doctor Watson in the Sherlock Holmes stories, Hastings frequently serves as a surrogate for the viewer, giving Poirot someone to whom he can explain how he got from point A to point B; also like Watson, Hastings makes up for a lack of imagination with an intelligence that, more often than not, provides an asset to Poirot. Philip Jackson, as Inspector Japp, provides a perfect foil for Poirot's brilliance; his confidence in his ability to solve the case is frequently undermined by Poirot's discovery of the pivotal clue (with Poirot often graciously allowing Japp to think he did it without Poirot's help), but make no mistake: he values both Poirot's intelligence and his friendship, and he'll be the first one to defend the detective against skeptics. And as Poirot's secretary Miss Lemon, Pauline Moran not only keeps the office running efficiently, she occasionally provides a needle to Poirot's non-insignificant ego. Just as in Perry Mason, Poirot functions as an ensemble, but with Suchet always the first among equals.
Several factors combine to prevent Voyage from completely descending (so to speak) into kitschy sci-fi, the first and unquestionably most important being Richard Basehart as Admiral Harriman Nelson, the visionary scientist and designer of Seaview. Basehart brings a gravitas and depth to the role that instantly provides the character—and the series—with a credibility it might otherwise lack. He's authoritative, incisive, suspicious, and dedicated to both science and the nation's security.
We know that Serling was disappointed in the final result, believing that network interference compromised his vision of a "realistic, adult Western" in favor of more "traditional" Western action. And in truth, there are episodes that present an undeniable tension between Serling's desire to lean on the philosophical and the constructs of the Western genre, resulting in endings that can be somewhat less than satisfying. Merely preventing the man in the black hat from acting on his homicidal impulses does not necessarily mean that said black hat won't resume being a threat once Colton has departed the scene; in other words, you can't always shame a bully into reforming himself in the Old West. Sometimes you have to eliminate that threat permanently, if you catch my drift. Don't take that caution as a deterrant, though; your investment in The Loner will likely be a satisfying one.
One show that's been a delight to revisit is Poirot, with David Suchet providing the definitive interpretation of Agatha Christie's iconic Belgian detective and his "little grey cells." Our last viewing of Poirot came when the series was in its original run, which makes it almost as good as new. In addition, since some of the later episodes were exclusive to Acorn (including the series finale, "Curtain"), those episodes will be new.
I referred to Suchet as the "definitive" version of Poirot, not only in his brilliance, but his mannerisms, fussy eccentricities (Suchet fought to portray Poirot down to the last "obsessive-compulsive" gesture), and relentless determination to discover the truth. His dedication to justice, occasionally tempered by mercy, makes him a very dangerous adversary, and for all the good humor that is built into the character (frequently causing his opponents to take him lightly), Suchet does an excellent job of projecting that danger. I would not want to cross swords with him, regardless of the circumstances.
The music and period detail—especially the breath-taking art deco accents—are a fundamental part of Poirot's appeal. Later stories, considerably darker in tone and frequently taking place on location, are still quite entertaining, but I have to admit that they lose some of their fun of the early seasons. Is that a quibble? I don't intend it to be, merely an observation; if those early seasons had never existed, the series would still stand on its own as one of the best British imports. Poirot very nearly made it on my Top Ten list, and when the next update comes around, I wouldn't be surprised to find it there.
Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea has neither the existential depth of The Loner nor the art deco elegance of Poirot. What it does have is a very cool atomic-powered submarine, a raft of special effects, some cheesy-looking monsters, and a surfeit of fun. It's based on Irwin Allen's 1961 movie of the same name about a fantastic submarine of the future called Seaview, starring Walter Pidgeon*, and Robert Sterling; and in adapting the movie for the small screen, Allen was able to utilize a ready-made treasure trove of quality, big-budget sets and ship miniatures that gave the series a big-screen look from the get-go.
*But we won't tell Gypsy.
The first season, shot in black-and-white, is arguably the best of the four. It leans heavily into Cold War and espionage themes; given that the Seaview is frequently utilized for secret missions by the U.S. government, and that it's the most advanced ship of its kind in the world, it's entirely plausible that it would be the target of both foreign governments (i.e. the Commies) and meglamaniacs bent on world domination. As the series progresses, that realism becomes less and less common (and plausible), replaced (at the network's request) by stories that are more overtly science fiction and often populated by sea monsters, ghosts, aliens, and other kinds of flotsam and jetsam that one doesn't usually encounter in the ocean's depths—but then, since the Seaview is able to submerge to deeper depths than any other ship, who knows what they might find down there?
Nelson's number two is Lee Crane, played by David Hedison. Crane is actually the captain of the Seaview, the COO to Nelson's CEO, and proves himself more than up to the task. Regardless of the ship's mission, whether scientific or military, Crane's first priority is always the safety of the Seaview and her crew. Hedison portrays Crane as cool and confident, not afraid to butt heads with Nelson when he feels his men are in jeopardy, but never suggesting that he chafes under the weight of having the boss always around to look over his shoulder (and it's a mark of Nelson's confidence in Crane that he pretty much leaves the operation of Seaview up to him). He's ably assisted by the ship's Executive Officer, Chip Morton, played with competence and trustworthiness by Bob Dowdell, an actor who seldom gives a bad performance. And while the show's move to color in the second season coincided with a shift to more fantastical stories, it also bathed the episodes in a wonderful color palette that looks terrific.
What I like about Voyage—and I enjoy it tremendously; as I mentioned with Combat!, I set aside whatever else I'm doing when it's on—is that there's just enough to it that it's possible to tolerate the more ridiculous storylines. Basehart is, as I said, never less than terrific in the role, and while the scripts often require a mighty suspension of disbelief, for the most part they don't insult my intelligence. It's dumb fun without being dumb, television viewing just for the pleasure of it. If you want your adventure straight-up, with a minium of pontificating and existential angst, a voyage on the Seaview is well worth taking. TV
