Aunt Bee’s Invisible Beau-
From Season 5, episode 27 Aired March 16th 1965
Not a bath tub murderer… just your ever lovin’ monstergirl Joey!
Not a bath tub murderer… just your ever lovin’ monstergirl Joey!
You can read more about this iconic noir masterpiece in The Dark Pages feature issue.
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Produced by Mark Hellinger (The Naked City, Brute Force, and The Two Mrs. Carrolls Music by Miklós Rózsa; Cinematography by Elwood Bredell (Ghost of Frankenstein 1942, Phantom Lady 1944). Boldly directed by the great Robert Siodmak. The Screenplay is by Anthony Veiller and uncredited co-writers John Huston and Richard Brooks.
The evocative opening scene is one of the most powerfully ferocious in film noir. It is faithful to Ernest Hemingway's short story. The determined thrust of the first twelve minutes mesmerizes. It has a villainous and cynical rhythm, paced like shadowy poetry in a dark room with no open windows. The film opens with Miklos Rozsa's ominous brassy jazz that later becomes the killer’s motif. Two men drive into a small town, Anywhere, USA. We see them from behind in the darkest black silhouette inside the car.
While cars and trains are iconographic means of escape in noir films, the opening sequence of The Killers offers no escape. The two gunmen enter the screen in their vehicle veiled by the darkness of the highway road. The vision is more like one of bringing the means of death to this ordinary environment. The peculiar, unsettling gunmen Al and Max (Charles McGraw and William Conrad) are two dark forces invading an ordinary landscape with their malicious and aggressive presence. The dark highway is a typical Hemingway metaphor for the eternal strife, of ‘going nowhere’ and his cycle of ‘heroic fatalism.' The road is an unfinished trajectory, unpredictable and unknown with no way out but "˜the end.'
We see the two walking onto the street silhouetted in shadow. We know they are trouble. They enter a diner reminiscent of Edward Hopper's 1942 painting "˜Nighthawks.' Perhaps this American Diner scene influenced scavenger-hunting director Quentin Tarantino for his Pulp Fiction in 1994.
The men ask about a man they're looking for, "˜the Swede.' They make no effort to hide their malevolence. They revel in belligerence as they demean and degrade the men in the small-town diner. Al and Max begin to psychologically torture George (Harry Hayden) who works the counter and Nick the boy at the end of the counter. They exude an offensive egotism and a cruel antisocial spirit as they barrage the men with perverse assaults.
George: "What'll it be, gentlemen?""¨Max: "I don't know. What you want to eat, Al?""¨Al: "I don't know what I want to eat.""¨ Max: "I'll have the roast pork tenderloin with apple sauce and mashed potatoes.""¨ George: "That's not ready yet.""¨ Max: "Then what's it on the card for?""¨ George: "Well, that's on the dinner. You can have that at six o'clock. That clock is ten minutes fast. The dinner isn't ready yet.""¨ Max: "Never mind the clock. What have you got to eat?"
The conversation is absurd and meaningless. It is just a mechanism to bully these townsmen. They continue to harass George asking "You got anything to drink?" George tells them "I can give you beer, soda, or ginger ale." Al: "I said you got anything to drink?" George submits a quiet "no." Max says "This is a hot town, whatta you call it?" George: "Brentwood." Al turns to Max "You ever hear of Brentwood?" Max shakes his head no. Al asks George "What do you do for nights?"
Max takes a deep breath and groans "They eat the dinner, they all come here and eat The Big Dinner." The outsider mocks the small-town conformity of eating whatever is served. George looks downward murmuring "That's right" and Al says "You're a pretty bright boy aren't you?" He uses "boy" to demean. George mutters "Sure" and Al snaps back "Well you're not!"
Al now shouts to the young man at the end of the counter "Hey you, what's your name?" he looks earnestly at Al and says "Adams. Nick Adams." Al says, "Another bright boy." There is sadism at work here, almost subconsciously homophobic/homoerotic in the way they are using the term "boy" to subvert these bystanders' manhood. Max says, "town's full of bright boys."
The cook comes out from the kitchen bringing the plates. "One ham and one bacon and" George starts to serve the men the food and asks "Which one is yours?" Al says "Don't you remember bright boy?" the continued use of this phrase truly begins to tear at the layers of our nerve endings. George starts laughing and Max says "What are you laughing at?" "nothing."
"You see something funny?" "No." "Then don't laugh." "Alright." Again Max says "He thinks it's alright." Al says "Oh, he's a thinker." It's an antisocial backlash to an intellectual society that would perceive Al and Max as outcasts. This is where a noir film begins to break the molds of Hollywood’s civilized society. The two intruders have trespassed into an ordinarily quiet community to shatter its sense of security. It is the death of humanism in film language.
Max and Al tie up Nick and the cook in the kitchen. "I'll tell ya what's gonna happen, we're gonna kill the Swede, you know big Swede, works over at the filling station." He lights a cigarette. George says, "You mean Pete Lund?" Max takes the cigarette out of his mouth and the smoke enervates George's face, "If that's what he calls himself"¦ Comes in every night at 6 o'clock don't he?"
Georges asks "What are you gonna kill him for? What did Pete Lund ever do to you?" Max replies," He never had a chance to do anything to us he never even seen us." The conversation is so matter-of-fact that it's chillingly absurd. Again George asks, "What are you gonna kill him for?" Max smirks "We're killing him for a friend." Al pokes his head through the sliding window to the kitchen "Shut up you talk too much" but Max says "I gotta keep bright boy amused don't I?"
When George explains that "˜the Swede' never comes in after 6 pm, the killers head to the station where he works. George unties the men in the kitchen. Nick leaves to warn "˜Swedes,' jumping fences on his way to the rooming house.
At the rooming house, Pete (Lancaster) is on his bed in almost complete darkness, face hidden in the shadows, his body's repose in stark contrast to the backdrop of the frenetic orchestration by Rozsa. Nick enters and urgently warns him about the two dangerous men. Nick asks, "Why'd do they want to kill ya?" He replies: "There’s nothing I can do about it. I did something wrong. Once. Thanks for coming.” His tone is soft and fatalistic.
Nick offers "I can tell you what they're like?" Swede replies "I don't wanna know what they're like… thanks for coming." "Don't you wanna go and see the police?" "No that wouldn't do any good." Nick asks "Isn't there something I could do?" "There ain't anything to do." "Couldn't you get out of town?" He answers "No… I'm through with all that running around."
A merciful violin plays while Swede remains resigned to the dark bed. His large hands rub his face. We hear the squeaking of a door downstairs as it opens slowly and then shuts. The Swede turns his head looking slightly worried for the first time. He leans up in the bed, the light from outside hitting his face, as Al and Max mount the staircase that leads to his room.
The Swede listens like a trapped animal. He does not betray any fear, only a gloomy resignation that his life is about to end. It is not death that he ponders, but memories and another enemy. Cinematographer Elwood Bredell switches between close-ups of Lancaster's face and the door, then suddenly the two men come in blasting. From pitch black begins a light show, arcing like electricity striking a void. The canon fire gunshots pour into a field of blackness. The killers walking up the stairs acts as foreplay and the gunfire is like violent intercourse"¦ White hot flashes of light break grave blackness. The last image we see as it fades to black is Lancaster's hand falling limp by the bedpost. The last words we hear are Swede uttering "Charleston was right, Charleston was right."
This is where the powerful prologue ends and Hemingway's story leaves us with no explanation as to the reason for Swede's murder, nor insight into why he acquiesces to his death by not trying to elude the killers and his fate. From this moment on Veiller's screenplay starts to expose the back story of the killing.

This has been a killer post! Your Everlovin’ Joey
Behave now!!!! Your Ever Lovin’ Joey
Director Alexander Singer’s melodrama (Singer’s Psyche 59 (1964) starring Patricia Neal who suffers from hysterical blindness, has a much more compelling frenetic slick psychology) Love Has Many Faces comes off as a meandering soap opera in balmy Acapulco Mexico… as Lana Turner plays Kit Jordan a millionairess who marries Cliff Robertson a self-loathing malcontent who sold all 8 pints of his blood to be owned by her. Though her love is as ‘thin as ice…’
Enrique Lucero is marvelous as Lieutenant Riccardo Andrade a Mexican Columbo who is trying to get to the bottom of one of Lana’s young male lovers who apparently committed suicide over their break up.
Aside from wishing that the fabulous Ruth Roman and Virginia Grey had more of a presence in the film…

… I was struck by two things…



Besides the high melodrama… 1) Hugh O’Brian is a beach bum gigolo who spends the entire movie, well mostly… baring his sweaty hairy virile chest and 2) Lana Turner changes wardrobe more than there are cigarettes and cocktails in the picture… Wow, that’s a lot of sexy beach wear and lamé, bare shoulders, back and leg… Lana! Thanks to Edith Head… you do look fabulous!

I’ll see you around… I’ve been there too! Cheers Joey
Though I appreciate Paulette Goddard’s work in the 1949 version, the re-filming of Anna Lucasta in 1958 again written and scripted by Phillip Yordan with an all black cast is powerful good. Arnold Laven’s direction brings to life a more visually potent assemblage of splendid characters. I go through little bursts of adoration and nostalgia, a while ago it was for Paul Williams… lately I’ve been loving Sammy Davis Jr. Both he and the sensuous depth of Eartha Kitt create an atmosphere of volatile romanticism.
The story is an engaging and moral tale about young Anna (Eartha Kitt) who is rejected by her sanctimonious father Joe played to the hilt by Rex Ingram (God’s Little Acre 1958, Desire in the Dust 1960) While the rest of the family wants Anna to come home, her self-righteous father can’t resist demonizing his daughter, with an underlying incestuous desire that he is battling. She takes the road of the fallen woman and becomes a good time gal who meets Danny (Sammy Davis Jr.) a cab driving sailor who is as smooth as silk and as fiery as molten lead. Here they are in a surreal sequence that showcases the versatile beauty and ease both performers possess- set against the stirring Elmer Bernstein modern jazz score!
Who can make the sunshine? Sammy Davis Jr can!… Cheers Your Everlovin’ Joey

Your Everlovin’ MonsterGirl sayin’ watch out for those forces loose on this earth!
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Hugo Haas yet again plays the downtrodden man, Marko who is in search of his lost gold mine. He hires Ray (John Agar) to help locate the gold, and filling out the triangle is the cherub-cheeked blonde Cleo Moore as Peggy who winds up marrying the Balkan blowhard for his gold while tantalizing the younger and desiring Ray.
Marko tries to figure out various ways of getting rid of his partner in order to keep all the loot! He even uses Peggy as bait, as part of his tricks to arouse their attraction giving him a reason to shoot Ray. Great prologue delivered by Sir Cedric Hardwick as the Devil… in this ironic light mystery directed by Haas.
Your Everlovin’ Joey Monstergirl


It’s here again! The most fabulous blogathon honoring those unsung stars that add that certain singular glimmer to either the cinematic sphere or the small screen sky–The character actors we’ve grown to love and follow adoringly. Thanks so much to Aurora at Once Upon A Screen, Outspoken & Freckled, and Paula’s Cinema Club for hosting such a marvelous tribute once again!
This post’s title comes from the opening narrative for Rod Serling’s favorite Twilight Zone episode “Time Enough At Last.” ‘Witness Mr. Henry Bemis, a charter member in the fraternity of dreamers’ From Season 1 episode 8 which aired on November 20th, 1959.
THE TWILIGHT ZONE “TIME ENOUGH AT LAST”
Directed by John Brahm, “Time Enough At Last” tells the story of a little bespectacled bibliophile bank teller named Henry Bemis, a bookworm, a slave to the iron-fisted hand of time and all its dreary inescapable obligatory scars and yearnings.
Browbeaten by his wife, boss, and even the public at large who see him as an outcast because of his ravenous appetite to read books! Henry can’t even sneak away to read a newspaper during work hours. He’s forced to resort to studying the labels on condiment bottles. She won’t even let him read the ketchup. His harpy of a wife Helen ( Jacqueline deWit) even blackens in the lines of his books at home, calling it “doggerel“– One day as fate would have it, he steals away to the basement vault of the bank to catch up on his beloved preoccupation, when –as many Twilight Zone episodes had been infused with a dose of Rod Serling’s nihilism (as much as there is his hopeful message), the feared 50’s bomb annihilates our vision of the world that was swarming just a few moments before. Suddenly poor Henry seems to be the last man on earth. But wait… perhaps not poor Henry.
As he stumbles through the debris and carefully placed set pieces– the remnants of man’s destructive force, Henry comes upon the city’s public library filled with BOOKS!!! Glorious books…
While he must struggle against the approaching loneliness of the bleak future ahead, he begins to see the possibility of a new world where he could dream, and wander through so many scrawled worlds. Already an outsider he could finally live a life free to be as his boss rebuked him, a “reader.’
Henry starts to amass various piles of selected readings. There was time now. Time enough, at last, to read every word on the written page without interruption, interference, or judgment.
Yet…fate once again waves her fickle finger via The Twilight Zone and leaves bewildered Henry without his much-needed glasses, now they have fallen on the great stone steps, crushed by Henry’s own feet. As with every role Meredith brings to life the character of Henry Bemis with so much mirth and pathos.
He’s always just a bit peculiar, idiosyncratic, eccentric, lyrical, salty, sometimes irascible, but always captivating and distinctive, His voice, his persona, his look, his style… Burgess Meredith could always play the Henry Bemises of the world and grab our hearts because he has that rare quality of being so damn genuine.
Let’s face it even when the prolific Burgess Meredith is playing a cackling penguin– nemesis to the caped crusader Batman or the devil himself (alias the dapper and eccentric Charles Chazen with Mortimer the canary and his black and white cat Jezebel in tow) in The Sentinel 1977 based on the novel by Jeffrey Konvitz and directed by Michael Winner–he’s lovable!
He always manages to just light me up. Ebullient, mischievous, and intellectually charming, a little impish, a dash of irresolute cynicism wavering between lyrical sentimentalism. He’s got this way of reaching in and grabbing the thinking person’s heart by the head and spinning it around in dazzling circles with his marvelously characteristic voice. A mellifluous tone was used often to narrate throughout his career. (I smile even at the simplest nostalgic memory like his work on television commercials, as a kid growing up in the 60s and early 70s I fondly remember his voice for Skippy Peanut Butter. Meredith has a solicitous tone and a whimsical, mirthful manner. Here’s a clip from a precious vintage commercial showcasing Meredith’s delightfully fleecy voice.
And his puckish demeanor hasn’t been missed considering he’s actually played Old Nick at least three times as I have counted. In The Sentinel 1977, The Twilight Zone and Torture Garden! While in Freddie Francis' production, he is the more carnivalesque Dr. Diabolo–a facsimile of the devil given the severely theatrical make-up, goatee, and surrounding flames"¦ he is far more menacing in Michael Winner's 70s gem as the spiffy Charles Chazin.

And while I resist even the notion of redoing Ira Levin/William Castle and Roman Polanski’s masterpiece Rosemary’s Baby if, and I’m only saying if… I could envision anyone else playing alongside Ruth Gordon as the quirky and roguish Roman Castevet it could only be Burgess Meredith who could pull that off!
Also being a HUGE fan of Peter Falk’s inimitable Columbo– I ask why why WHY?! Was Burgess Meredith never cast as a sympathetic murderer for that relentless and lovable detective in the rumpled raincoat to pursue? Could you imagine the chemistry between these two marvelous actors?
Burgess Meredith all of 5′ 5″ tall was born in Cleveland Ohio in 1907. His father was a doctor, and his mother a Methodist revivalist. We lost him in 1997 at the age of 89. That’s when he took his “dirt nap…” the line and that memorable scene from Grumpier Old Men 1993 that still makes me burst out laughing from the outlandish joy of it all!… because as Grandpa Gustafson (Meredith) tells John Gustafson (Jack Lemmon) about how he’s managed to live so long eating bacon, smoking and drinking his dinner–what’s the point…? “I just like that story!”

Burgess Meredith said himself, that he wasn’t born to be a leading man, yet somehow he always managed to create a magnetic draw toward any performance of his. As if where ever his presence in the story was, it had the same effect as looking in a side view mirror of the car “Objects are closer than they appear”–What I mean by that is how I relate his contribution becoming larger than the part might have been, had it been a different actor. Like the illusion of the mirrored reflection, he always grew larger in significance within the story–because his charisma can’t help but consume the space.
He took over the landscape and planted himself there like a little metaphysical essence, animating the narrative to a higher level of reality.
Meredith started out working with the wonderful Eva Le Gallienne joining her stage company in New York City in 1933. His first film role was that of Mio Romagna in playwright Maxwell Anderson’s Winterset 1936 where Meredith plays the son of an immigrant wrongfully executed for a crime he did not commit. He also joined the ranks of those in Hollywood who were named as “unfriendly witnesses’ by the House Un-American Activities Committee finding no work, being blacklisted in the 1950s. Â
During the 1960s Meredith found his way back in various television roles that gave us all a chance to see and hear his incredible spectrum of performances. One of my personal favorites, dramatically potent and vigorously absorbing was his portrayal of Duncan Kleist in the Naked City television series episode directed by Walter Grauman (Lady in A Cage 1964)Â Hold For Gloria Christmas.
The groundbreaking crime and human interest series NAKED CITY– cast Meredith as a 60s beat poet & derelict Dunan Kleist who is literally dying to leave the legacy of his words to a kindred spirit.
A powerful performance told through flashback sequences that recollect his murder as he storms through the gritty streets and alleyways of New York City a volatile alcoholic Greenwich Village poet trying to get back his precious manuscript of poems that were stolen as he bartered them away bit by bit for booze -he has bequeathed his work to the anonymous Gloria Christmas. The chemistry between Burgess Meredith and Eileen Heckart who plays his estranged wife is magnificent exuding years of anguish and disappointment. Heckart is another character actor who deserves a spotlight.
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BURNT OFFERINGS 1976–Dan Curtis’ priceless treasure of creepy camp featuring Karen Black, Oliver Reed, and once again uniting the incredible Eileen Heckart with our beloved Burgess Meredith as the ominous Roz and Arnold Allardyce.

Another memorable role for me is his spirited performance as Charles Chazin alias The Devil in one of my all-time favorite horror classics The Sentinel. “Friendships often blossom into bliss.” – Charles Chazin. Ooh, that line still gives me chills…
Many people will probably love him for his iconic character study of a crusty cantankerous washed-up boxing trainer named Mickey in the Rocky series of films. Or perhaps, for his colorful cackling or should I say quacking villain in the television series Batman -his iconic malefactor — The Penguin!
IMDb fact-His character, the Penguin, was so popular as a villain on the television series Batman (1966), the producers always had a Penguin script ready in case Meredith wanted to appear as a guest star.
“Like the seasons of the year, life changes frequently and drastically. You enjoy it or endure it as it comes and goes, as it ebbs and flows.”- Burgess Meredith
“I’ll just take amusement at being a paradox.”- Burgess Meredith
[on his childhood] “All my life, to this day, the memory of my childhood remains grim and incoherent. If I close my eyes and think back, I see little except violence and fear. In those early years, I somehow came to understand I would have to draw from within myself whatever emotional resources I needed to go wherever I was headed. As a result, for years, I became a boy who lived almost totally within himself.”- Burgess Meredith
Continue reading “Witness Mr. Burgess Meredith, a charter member in the fraternity of dreamers.”