John Badham's directorial career begins with bang--literally!--a starter's gun at Norma's swim meet. There'll be another gun drawn before the credits roll, but the most important gun in this story is the alleged smoking one: A letter of introduction Jordan Boyle wrote as a favor is now threatening to be a career killer. Why? One of the parties in the letter has... Mob ties! (Gasp!)
Holbrook hangs back and allows Michael Tolan to take center stage in this story. And Tolan proves a capable and appealing leading man. Muckraking journalist Collie Ford has published a magazine article claiming to have explosive evidence of Mob influence on a government official. Boyle goes to New York to meet Ford, but must first run the gauntlet of his gatekeeping wife, who demands Boyle remove his jacket first (to ensure no shoulder holstered heaters the better with which to ventilate her husband!). The encounter with Ford--played by a manic Dana Elcar--is a definite highlight of the show.
Oh, if you ever wondered what happened to Del Floria's dry cleaning shop after U. N. C. L. E was canceled and the headquarters foreclosed on, you'll get your disillusioning answer here. Sad.
Meanwhile, back in D. C., Stowe learns Boyle is being investigated by Senator Shea's Crime Commission. Shea is played by Kermit Murdock, an actor of Jabba the Hut proportions and the man you cast when Edward Andrews isn't available. Murdock played a similar role as the Prosecutor in STAR TREK's penultimate episode, "All Our Yesterdays," so of course I came preloaded to loathe him, which Murdock makes so easy to do as he implies wrongdoing, threatens subpoenas, and breaks promises with reckless abandon. When Hays hangs up on you, you know you're rotten.
Actually, Stowe is kinda rotten in this one too. He and Jordan have been friends since law school, but with the first whiff of controversy Hays is backpedaling as fast as he can from his friend and colleague (which I wrongly assumed were ranked in that order). Hays sneaks in a side door to avoid Jordan and then doesn't even give a courtesy chuckle to his Machine Gun Boyle joke. Hays shoots straight and tells Jordan he may have to fire him if Boyle pleads the Fifth in the hearing. It was disheartening to see Hays so politically mercenary, prepared to shove a friend under the bus, even if reluctantly, if that's what it took to keep his office unstained from scandal.
Knowing Stowe wasn't going to stick his neck out for him, Jordan sets out to clear his name by first figuring out what exactly he did to put himself in the crosshairs of the Crime Commission. Yeager, an "influence peddler" or lobbyist, was the man who requested the letter. But Yeager convincingly contends it was only to grease the wheels of a legitimate business deal.
Murray Hamilton was a natural to play Yeager. His voice and snappy patter make him an appealing character, though there is something smacking of used car salesman about him. In fact, it was Yeager's offering to buy Boyle a new car each year that tipped Jordan and the audience that Yeager was the rat Boyle smelled. I was grateful Hamilton was given plenty of screentime as he and Tolan enjoyed an easy chemistry.
Veteran actor James Griffith has a single scene as disagreeable columnist Dave Channing. He blithely taps away on his Remington-Rand and can't be bothered helping Boyle rescue his floundering reputation... until Boyle boils over, that is. Scandal--real or perceived--was the scarlet letter, and those who wore it suddenly found DC a lonely place.
So what was the big scandal, anyway? Well, watching this show a half century later, the menace and threat posed by the Mob struck me as dated and even quaint. Boyle's letter of introduction was innocuous, but political climbers like Shea wanted to (mis)use it to their advantage as a way to tarnish Stowe by association.
But Stowe was sincerely fearful of the Mob and its planned influence in his state. Boyle is shocked to learn the new plant in Harlan County was simply the first step in a Mafia masterplan to build a new metropolis. "It's a stinkin' city... all laid out, like Hitler did in Mein Kampf!" bellows Boyle. Stowe soon takes it over the top and likens the Mob to Orwell's Big Brother! Maybe if the writer read Mario Puzo's "The Godfather" (and fewer Don Pendleton Mack Bolan potboilers) he would know about how the Mob built Las Vegas in a desert and created ex nihilo an American showplace and iconic entertainment capital.
The Mob ties were not known when Governor Keller traveled to DC to sell Stowe on the idea over dinner (in an Italian restaurant, of course). Keller makes a compelling case for the development, but Stowe appears uninterested. His interests are inside the beltway now, not on the scratch farmers of flyover country where he likely resents having languished for the better part of the last three episodes.
Great seeing John Randolph back, marking a trifecta of winning appearances. His scenes were small, but his trademark bombast gave the show a boost. Cheap shot by the Hollywood producers, however, painting Keller as a benighted rustic unfamiliar with the authentic Italian dishes on the menu.
This one was written by Leon Tokatyan, who also wrote the "The Day the Lion Died" and who went on to develop LOU GRANT, which, now that I think back to it, was very much like this show in taking a message and building a drama around it. And even though this episode's message was a dated one, and Stowe's closing grandstand speech a forehead-smacking misfire and missed opportunity for his home state, it was an eminently engaging episode all the way through (Norma Stowe, who appeared to be dozing during Daddy's big moment, may disagree).
Funny ending with the ringed finger of the uncredited Mafia don chucking the chin of his granddaughter and writing off with regret this rats-foiled-again plan. (Yeager may have some regrets, judging by those bandaged hands!).
Erin and Norma, benched for the previous two episodes, were sent to the showers after this one and will miss the final two. Maybe that's why Norma looked so forlorn in that cutaway shot near the close?
The producers assembled an awesome guest cast as always. Elcar, Hamilton, Griffith, Randolph, and even Murdock added immeasurably to the story. Stowe's secretary Jennie, played by Kate Hawley, had more to do and say here. But it was DARK SHADOWS alum Dana Elcar as the unhinged and ill-fated Collie Ford who brought the standout performance. And a special standing-in-the-gap shoutout to Michael Tolan, who ably carried the show this week. So sad to think his next acting job after this series wrapped was playing the Indian Flying Fox on an episode of NICHOLS. Hollywood, like Washington, is a cruel place.
PS: The title ominously states that someday they--the Mob--will elect a president. Hey, didn't they already do that in 1960?
Holbrook hangs back and allows Michael Tolan to take center stage in this story. And Tolan proves a capable and appealing leading man. Muckraking journalist Collie Ford has published a magazine article claiming to have explosive evidence of Mob influence on a government official. Boyle goes to New York to meet Ford, but must first run the gauntlet of his gatekeeping wife, who demands Boyle remove his jacket first (to ensure no shoulder holstered heaters the better with which to ventilate her husband!). The encounter with Ford--played by a manic Dana Elcar--is a definite highlight of the show.
Oh, if you ever wondered what happened to Del Floria's dry cleaning shop after U. N. C. L. E was canceled and the headquarters foreclosed on, you'll get your disillusioning answer here. Sad.
Meanwhile, back in D. C., Stowe learns Boyle is being investigated by Senator Shea's Crime Commission. Shea is played by Kermit Murdock, an actor of Jabba the Hut proportions and the man you cast when Edward Andrews isn't available. Murdock played a similar role as the Prosecutor in STAR TREK's penultimate episode, "All Our Yesterdays," so of course I came preloaded to loathe him, which Murdock makes so easy to do as he implies wrongdoing, threatens subpoenas, and breaks promises with reckless abandon. When Hays hangs up on you, you know you're rotten.
Actually, Stowe is kinda rotten in this one too. He and Jordan have been friends since law school, but with the first whiff of controversy Hays is backpedaling as fast as he can from his friend and colleague (which I wrongly assumed were ranked in that order). Hays sneaks in a side door to avoid Jordan and then doesn't even give a courtesy chuckle to his Machine Gun Boyle joke. Hays shoots straight and tells Jordan he may have to fire him if Boyle pleads the Fifth in the hearing. It was disheartening to see Hays so politically mercenary, prepared to shove a friend under the bus, even if reluctantly, if that's what it took to keep his office unstained from scandal.
Knowing Stowe wasn't going to stick his neck out for him, Jordan sets out to clear his name by first figuring out what exactly he did to put himself in the crosshairs of the Crime Commission. Yeager, an "influence peddler" or lobbyist, was the man who requested the letter. But Yeager convincingly contends it was only to grease the wheels of a legitimate business deal.
Murray Hamilton was a natural to play Yeager. His voice and snappy patter make him an appealing character, though there is something smacking of used car salesman about him. In fact, it was Yeager's offering to buy Boyle a new car each year that tipped Jordan and the audience that Yeager was the rat Boyle smelled. I was grateful Hamilton was given plenty of screentime as he and Tolan enjoyed an easy chemistry.
Veteran actor James Griffith has a single scene as disagreeable columnist Dave Channing. He blithely taps away on his Remington-Rand and can't be bothered helping Boyle rescue his floundering reputation... until Boyle boils over, that is. Scandal--real or perceived--was the scarlet letter, and those who wore it suddenly found DC a lonely place.
So what was the big scandal, anyway? Well, watching this show a half century later, the menace and threat posed by the Mob struck me as dated and even quaint. Boyle's letter of introduction was innocuous, but political climbers like Shea wanted to (mis)use it to their advantage as a way to tarnish Stowe by association.
But Stowe was sincerely fearful of the Mob and its planned influence in his state. Boyle is shocked to learn the new plant in Harlan County was simply the first step in a Mafia masterplan to build a new metropolis. "It's a stinkin' city... all laid out, like Hitler did in Mein Kampf!" bellows Boyle. Stowe soon takes it over the top and likens the Mob to Orwell's Big Brother! Maybe if the writer read Mario Puzo's "The Godfather" (and fewer Don Pendleton Mack Bolan potboilers) he would know about how the Mob built Las Vegas in a desert and created ex nihilo an American showplace and iconic entertainment capital.
The Mob ties were not known when Governor Keller traveled to DC to sell Stowe on the idea over dinner (in an Italian restaurant, of course). Keller makes a compelling case for the development, but Stowe appears uninterested. His interests are inside the beltway now, not on the scratch farmers of flyover country where he likely resents having languished for the better part of the last three episodes.
Great seeing John Randolph back, marking a trifecta of winning appearances. His scenes were small, but his trademark bombast gave the show a boost. Cheap shot by the Hollywood producers, however, painting Keller as a benighted rustic unfamiliar with the authentic Italian dishes on the menu.
This one was written by Leon Tokatyan, who also wrote the "The Day the Lion Died" and who went on to develop LOU GRANT, which, now that I think back to it, was very much like this show in taking a message and building a drama around it. And even though this episode's message was a dated one, and Stowe's closing grandstand speech a forehead-smacking misfire and missed opportunity for his home state, it was an eminently engaging episode all the way through (Norma Stowe, who appeared to be dozing during Daddy's big moment, may disagree).
Funny ending with the ringed finger of the uncredited Mafia don chucking the chin of his granddaughter and writing off with regret this rats-foiled-again plan. (Yeager may have some regrets, judging by those bandaged hands!).
Erin and Norma, benched for the previous two episodes, were sent to the showers after this one and will miss the final two. Maybe that's why Norma looked so forlorn in that cutaway shot near the close?
The producers assembled an awesome guest cast as always. Elcar, Hamilton, Griffith, Randolph, and even Murdock added immeasurably to the story. Stowe's secretary Jennie, played by Kate Hawley, had more to do and say here. But it was DARK SHADOWS alum Dana Elcar as the unhinged and ill-fated Collie Ford who brought the standout performance. And a special standing-in-the-gap shoutout to Michael Tolan, who ably carried the show this week. So sad to think his next acting job after this series wrapped was playing the Indian Flying Fox on an episode of NICHOLS. Hollywood, like Washington, is a cruel place.
PS: The title ominously states that someday they--the Mob--will elect a president. Hey, didn't they already do that in 1960?