5 October: "Good Morning, Captain"

It’s 5 October, and by my watch -- and Cinematic Void’s 31 Days of Voidoween -- that makes it time to talk “Seaside Horror.” My past two entries have switched it up a bit. Voidoween was meant to be a movie watching challenge during the month of October, but ‘round these parts Halloween is much more than movies. There’s TV shows and books and short stories and radio programs and, like today’s choice, music. Let’s take a listen to one of the scariest songs I’ve ever heard: Slint’s “Good Morning, Captain” from their 1991 album Spiderland.

I’ll be honest, I don’t know how seaside-y “Good Morning, Captain” really is. The lyrics are pretty cryptic. There’s mention of a shipwreck and death in the first verse: “Scattered remnants of the ship could be seen in the distance/Blood stained the icy wall of the shore.” There’s someone named “the captain” who is perhaps the lone survivor of the wreck? There’s a child who haunts the captain in some way:

From behind the edge of the windowsill,

There appeared the delicate hand of a child.

His face was flush and timid.

He stared at the captain through frightened eyes.

The captain reached for something to hold on to,

“Help me,” he whispered, as he rose slowly to his feet...

As I say, it’s all pretty cryptic and weird.

Adding to the feelings of weirdness is the music itself. Considered by many to to be one the earliest post-rock records, Spiderland is filled to overflowing with odd syncopation, whispered vocals, and guitarwork that runs from quietly plucked chords to screeching, distorted runs. On “Good Morning, Captain,” the post-rock machine is running on all cylinders: Britt Walford’s drum playing is more akin to a guitar riff, while David Pajo’s guitar and Todd Brashear’s bass lay down a driving, hypnotic rhythm. Behind this, Brian McMahan sing-speaks his vocals, delivering the story of the captain as though it were a campfire tale. At the end, his screams of “I miss you!” are haunting and chilling.

Listen to “Good Morning, Captain” at night by candlelight on a good pair of headphones and you’ll see why I included it in this year’s Voidoween. Heck, listen to the whole Spiderland record from start to finish if you have the time...and the nerve. It’s as good as any spooky Edgar Allan Poe short story collection.

4 October: Harvest Home

It’s 4 October, and we are proceeding at a steady pace towards Halloween. Before you know it, we’ll all be on the phone to our local TV stations, screaming at them at the top of our lungs to stop it, Stop It, STOP IT!

But that’s for later. For now let us continue down the path that L.A.’s Cinematic Void prepared for us. According to The 31 Days of Voidoween, today is all about “Folk Horror,” that somewhat newish genre of film that seems to be everywhere nowadays. It’s kind of like film noir. It’s a critics’ term that was defined well after the films that serve as its prime examples were released. If you’re interested, I’ve got more to say about the genre in an earlier entry on this blog -- check out my discussion of Nigel Kneale’s “Murrain.” Today, I want to talk about a folk horror novel that I think should be read much more than it seems to be. Let’s talk Harvest Home by Thomas Tryon.

In the late-1970s, Stephen King had this to say about Tryon’s novel:

"It isn't a great book, not a great horror novel, not even a great suspense novel ... Never mind the best seller list. Mind this, instead: Sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph, it is a true book; it is an honest book in the sense that it says exactly what Tryon wanted to say. And if what he wanted to say wasn't exactly Miltonian, it does have this going for it: in forty years, when most of us are underground, there will still be a routine rebinding once a year for the library copies of Harvest Home.”

I think ol’ Stevie maybe got it backwards, because I think Harvest Home is a pretty terrific (in all senses of the word) book that very few people read anymore, let alone are even aware of. (I’d be interested to know the condition of the book at my local library and whether or not it is lovingly rebound year after year.) When I went to see Ari Aster’s Midsommar a few years ago, I was somewhat surprised by the amount of people who thought it was so original and daring. I said to my wife at the time, “It’s like no one’s ever heard of The Wicker Man or Harvest Home.” She turned to me and said, “What’s Harvest Home?”

See what I mean?

Harvest Home is an example of what I like to call the “Return to Nature” genre that became very popular in the 1970s. RtN texts usually concern a person or group of people who decide that they can’t live in the city anymore. It’s just too dangerous and dirty and anti-human. So, they pull stakes and split the scene and make for the countryside. You know, where people are more “real” (whatever that means) and where they can live off the land. So far, we can consider Green Acres to be part of the Return to Nature genre.

Where things usually go off the rails on this crazy train and send us into Folk Horror territory is that we eventually discover that the good townsfolk who welcomed us with open arms are actually cultists of some sort who are looking for fresh blood for their arcane, eldritch rituals. Oh, well, at least the air is fresh, right?

Such is the case in Harvest Home. Ned Constantine moves his wife Bethany and their daughter Kate from New York City to the Connecticut village of Cornwall Coombe. The Coombe seems to be utterly isolated (uh-oh), and the villagers like it that way. They are also very proud that they keep to the “old ways" (UH-oh). They also partake in many festivals throughout the year, culminating with the most important one, “Harvest Home,” which only takes place once every seven years.

UH-OH!

Need I say more? You know what’s comin’. Your Aunt Suzie knows what’s comin’. You know who doesn’t know what’s comin’? Ned. The big dummy just has to see what happens during the Harvest Home festival. I won’t say more, but rest assured that it’s a little more complicated than corn mazes.

If you don’t feel like sitting down with Tryon’s novel, then track down the made-for-TV movie that was made in the 1970s starring Bette Davis as Widow Fortune, the town’s matriarch.

Fun fact: before he turned his talents to writing, Thomas Tryon was an actor. He appeared on Broadway, TV, and movies in the 1950s and 1960s. Monster kids may recognize his face, if not his name, from the classic I Married a Monster from Outer Space!

3 October: Salem's Lot

“The town took its peculiar name from a fairly prosaic occurrence. One of the area’s earliest residents was a dour, gangling farmer named Charles Belknap Tanner. He kept pigs, and one of the large sows was named Jerusalem. Jerusalem broke out of her pen one day at feeding time, escaped into the nearby woods, and went wild and mean. Tanner warned small children off his property for years afterward by leaning over his gate and croaking at them in ominous gore-crow tones: ‘Keep ‘ee out o’ Jerusalem’s wood lot, if ‘ee want to keep ‘ee guts in ‘ee belly!’ The warning took hold, and so did the name. It proves little, except that perhaps in America even a pig can aspire to immortality.”

Today’s topic for Cinematic Void’s 31 Days of Voidoween is “Vampires.” For my money, that can only mean one thing: Stephen King’s 1975 sophomore effort, Salem’s Lot. I’ve read King’s novel every October for at least the last ten years and off and on before that since I first picked it up in the mid-90s. It’s my favorite of King’s works for several reasons.

First off, it’s the ultimate horror high concept novel. King himself summed it up perfectly when he described Salem’s Lot as “Peyton Place meets Dracula.” Boom! What else ya need to know?

Second, Salem’s Lot may be a story about a small New England town, but King does a great job of working with a large cast of characters. He balances the main characters and the central narrative with all these vignettes that bring the many background characters to the foreground for their fifteen minutes. He also uses these characters and their dark secrets to reveal the rotten heart of the town and why Barlow, the vampire, and his human familiar Straker decided to settle there. Chapter Three is a perfect example of this. In it, King introduces characters whose names we've heard mentioned in passing. Here, however, their lives are given front-and-center attention. They are brief sketches, but they perfectly sum up who these people are and why they just might prefer being the living dead as opposed to the living dead.

Lastly, Barlow and all the vampires he creates are parasites sucking the town dry. These aren’t romantic, misunderstood, emo-listening, anti-heroic vampires who sparkle. They smell of the grave. Their flesh is as smoke when a cross is dragged through their faces. They squirm like worms when pulled from their resting places into sunlight. They are leeches, and they deserve their fates at the hands of Ben and Mark come the last page of the book.

If you plan on reading Salem’s Lot for the holidays, be sure to track down the illustrated edition that was released in 2005. In addition to the novel, you get two Lot-adjacent short stories (one of which, “Jerusalem’s Lot,” serves as the basis for the Epix TV show Chaplewaite). Also included are deleted scenes, one of which I count as one of the most disgusting scenes King ever committed to paper.

Throughout the novel, much is made of the rats in the town dump. At one point, they disappear. Where did they go? Well, vampires are known to control the lesser animals - including rats. Towards the end of the novel, Mark Petrie and Dr. Jimmy Cody hunt for Barlow’s hiding place. They go to Eva Miller’s boardinghouse. Jimmy goes down to the basement. There, he is swamped by hundreds, perhaps thousands, of rats. They stream out of the shadows and cover him. As Jimmy tries to scream to warn Mark, one rat crawls into his mouth.

Sadly, King’s editor talked him out of using the scene. He thought it was too gross. Well, duh! King never put the scene back into the book proper, even though all the references to the rats were rendered moot by the excision. Now you can enjoy it in all its furry, grotty goodness as the good Lord intended.

2 October: The Manitou

“Pana...witchy...salatoo!”

No, I’m not ordering a panini with a side salad. I’m letting the spirits of the great old ones speak through me to tell you about today’s entry in the Cinematic Void’s 31 Days of Voidoween Movie Challenge: “Exorcist Knockoff.” My choice is the 1978 William Girdler classic (?) The Manitou.

Based on Graham Masterton’s 1976 novel and starring Tony Curtis, Michael Ansara, Susan Strasberg, Stella Stevens, and Burgess Meredith, The Manitou tells the story of a girl and her baby bump. Unfortunately for Karen Tandy (Strasberg), said bump is on the back of her neck, and they don’t make maternity clothes with a lot of room in that area. Also, it’s not a baby she’s carrying, but the spirit of a 400-year-old Native American medicine man named Misquamacus, who is seeking revenge on the white men who pillaged his land and killed his people. It’s up to phony fortune-teller Harry Erskine (Curtis) and modern-day Native American shaman/Tom Araya from Slayer lookalike John Singing Rock (Ansara) to save Karen’s life and stop Misquamacus.

We may be in trouble.

The Manitou is a fun, campy romp through and through. It’s hard to take a movie that features Tony Curtis tossing an electric typewriter at a little person in “evil shaman” make-up too seriously. One wonders if Father Karras could have saved Father Merrin’s life had an IBM Selectric been handy in The Exorcist. This is the kind of movie where every line of dialogue is filled with exposition that unfortunately doesn’t explain anything that’s happening.

Still, there are a few creepy moments that can raise the ol’ gooseflesh. One is during the seance that Amelia (Stevens) leads in order to learn what spirit has targeted Karen and why. As the lights dim on their own and one of the participants begins to speak in tongues, a head slowly appears in the middle of the table. This is a pretty great effect and very creepy. Misquamacus’s visage rises out of the surface of the table as though it was a pool of black ichor. Another great scene is Misquamacus’s birth. As Karen moans and writhes on her belly, you can see the shaman squirming beneath her flesh. Finally, he tears through and falls to the floor. It’s not as gooey and bloody a scene as it should be, but it’s still pretty effective.

The Manitou is the type of groovie movie Commander USA would have gleefully shown back in the 80s. It’s perfect Saturday afternoon fare for doin' nothin' but loungin' on the couch all darn day.

Unless, of course, the thought of Tony Curtis unwinding with some disco music on a reel-to-reel tape recorder after a long day of giving old biddies tarot card readings makes you queasy. If that's the case, then...run!

1 October: The Creature from the Black Lagoon

Today is the day, kiddies! It is 1 October, and that means it is officially the start of the spooky season! Last year, I took it upon myself to blog everyday during the month leading up to Halloween. By the end of it, I was a wreck, but proud of what I’d accomplished. As is the case with a lot of things (running a marathon, going out drinking for your 21st birthday, etc.), you tend to forget how sick and sore you felt afterwards and only remember that you had a good time. So...here we are again!

As I mentioned before, this year’s Halloween blog-athon will be a tad different from last year’s edition. This year, I am joining in on the “31 Days of Voidoween Movie Challenge” as laid down by L.A.’s home for exploitation cinema, Cinematic Void. I won’t be following their challenge religiously, because I like to do more than watch movies for the howl-idays. There are too many great short stories, radio programs, TV shows, podcasts, and soundtracks to read, watch, and listen to. So, I’ll be mixing it up as the month goes by.

Today, however, I’m sticking to the Void’s 1 October challenge: Universal Monsters. When you think of Universal Studios’ contributions to the horror genre, you have to stand in awe. Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy, The Invisible Man, The Bride of Frankenstein, The Wolf-Man -- classics with a capital C one and all. Think of it, any ONE of these films would have been enough to cement a studio’s name as a major player. Universal was knocking out at least one of these films every year beginning in 1931 when Dracula and Frankenstein were released.

My favorite of the Universal Monsters, however, didn’t stick his head above the waters of that most famous and infamous tributary to the Amazon, the Black Lagoon, until 1954. The Creature (or Gill-Man as the scientists call him) is at one and the same time terrifying and beautiful to behold. If you want to learn more about ol’ Gillie’s birth, you should pick up Mallory O’Meara’s wonderful book The Lady from the Black Lagoon: Hollywood Monsters and the Lost Legacy of Milicent Patrick.

The movie, like its titular Creature, is also terrifying and beautiful. Filled with amazing stock footage, rear projection, underwater photography, and 3-D effects, The Creature from the Black Lagoon at times feels like a mixture of a travelogue and educational film. Just as you get comfortable listening to the scientists talk about uranium-lead tests, lungfish, and the Devonian age, composer Hans J. Salter (with a little help from Herman Stein and Henry Mancini) hits you with that musical stinger - bwah-bwah-BWAH! - and you just know the Gill-Man is gonna make an appearance.

No discussion of The Creature from the Black Lagoon would feel complete without mentioning the Gill-Man’s would-be ladyfriend, Julie Adams. As Kay Lawrence, Adams is the film’s damsel-in-distress. She spends most of the movie acting as a buffer between her fiancé, Dr. David Reed (Richard Carlson), and their financier, Dr. Mark Williams (Richard Denning). Luckily, Adams also spends some time acting in a fabulous, white, one-piece bathing suit. As Joe Bob Briggs put it in his 2003 book Profoundly Disturbing: Shocking Movies That Changed History, “The monster may or may not be falling in love...but the fourteen-year-old boys in the audience definitely are.” In short: hubba-hubba!

As is the case with so many pictures, it’s the character actors and bit players who often eclipse the stars. As amazing as the courtship between the Gill-Man and Julie Adams is, it’s Nestor Paiva as Lucas, the captain of the Rita, who steals the show to become the focus of nearly every scene he’s in. I challenge any viewer to not cheer during the scene when Mark makes the mistake of bringing smarm to a knife fight with Lucas. As the ship’s captain tickles the chin of the movie’s true bad guy with the tip of his blade, you just wanna see Lucas start chumming the water with that arrogant jerk!

Before signing off for the day, I want to ask everyone to do me a favor. It’s come to light recently that Ricou Browning, the actor who portrays the Gill-Man in the underwater sequences, is suffering from ill health. His daughter has reached out to fans asking that they send her father get-well cards. Browning was a mainstay of my local monster convention, the Monster Bash in Mars, PA, and it was always amazing to see him in person. I'd like to see him make it back there. He is best known for his work in The Creature from the Black Lagoon, but he also directed underwater scenes in Bond films Thunderball (1965) and Never Say Never Again (1983), as well as Hello Down There (1969) and Caddyshack (1980). He also co-created Flipper with Jack Cowden. Cards can be sent to the following address:

Ricou Browning

5221 SW 196 Lane

Southwest Ranches FL 33332

Wings, S02E02, "The Story of Joe"

Brian is on the tarmac at Boston's Logan Airport awaiting the arrival of two passengers who are holding up Sandpiper Air Flight 48's return to Nantucket. The would-be sport fishermen finally arrive, and boy, do they look familiar. The heavy-set fellow, Norm, seems to have an inordinate love of beer, and his mustachioed friend, Cliff, is a know-it-all who frowns at mailman jokes. (More on them later!)

Back at the terminal of Tom Nevers Field, Joe is nervously anticipating being interviewed by American Flyer magazine. The good publicity, he feels, could put Sandpiper Air on the map. Ted Cobb, the reporter, arrives aboard Brian's flight. It quickly becomes obvious, however, that Ted isn't enamored with idea of writing up three pages about Joe and his little one-plane operation. It seems that he'd rather be back at his old post at Mercenary Monthly, spinning wild yarns about even wilder men. Men like Brian, who is a big fan of Ted's work. The two hit it off, then go off leaving Joe behind.

Will Joe ever see his name in print? Will Brian ever tell Joe how he feels about him? Will Norm and Cliff ever go fishing before they have to go back to Boston?

Some housekeeping first: your computer and internet connection are working just fine. You didn't miss my blog post on Season Two, Episode One, "The Puppetmaster." And, no, that episode is not an adaptation of a Robert Heinlein story. 

I am watching this series on Hulu. Streaming services, as well as DVD/Blu-ray releases, are notorious for leaving out certain episodes. Why does this happen? Mainly it's because of music rights issues. Obtaining the rights to use music is very expensive, and many are the TV shows and movies that have not been (legally) released to the public because the distribution companies and rights holders could not come to an agreement. WKRP in Cincinnati is a perfect example of this problem. For years, it was nigh impossible to get your hands on the original episodes as they were broadcast because of music licensing issues. It wasn't until 2014 that you could get your hands on a complete DVD set with around 90% of the original music cleared for use.

Unfortunately, Wings is no different. There are about twenty-three episodes over the entire series that are unavailable for (legal) streaming because of this issue. So, instead of discussing how Brian hires an actor to pretend to be a pilot in order to get Helen to break her promise never to date pilots (which is what "The Puppetmaster" is all about), we are here to talk about the first Cheers/Wings crossover. Not a bad trade off, if I do say so myself.

If you haven't guessed it already (And if you haven't -- what's up? Are you feeling all right?), the "Norm and Cliff" mentioned above is that Norm and Cliff. Wings was created and produced by veterans of the Cheers writers' room: David Angell, Peter Casey, and David Lee. These three would also create Frasier. Not too shabby a career, says I.

The inclusion of Norm and Cliff is great way to broaden the horizons of the show, as well as drawing in new viewers. Cheers was wildly popular, and the shenanigans of Norm and Cliff,  were in a large part responsible for that show becoming the ratings juggernaut that it was. Here, the episode isn't about the two-man brew crew from Boston, which is nice. The main storyline is still about Joe and Brian, but every so often they bump into Norm and Cliff during their surf-n-turf bar crawl. The Cheers regulars are the jimmies on the Wings cupcake, so to speak.

Mmmm...cupcakes...

Fans of body horror will recognize the man who plays the journalist Ted Cobb. That's actor Charles Callahan, and he was "Norris" in John Carpenter's The Thing. He was a well-travelled actor on TV. He appeared on episodes of The Rockford Files, Hawaii Five-O, Soap, The Paper Chase, and Hill Street Blues. I like to think that this isn't just Ted Cobb who's visiting Nantucket Island, it's Ted Cobb-Thing! How long was he alone with those passengers during the flight from Boston? Did he ever get Brian alone somewhere when they hit the town together? I think we can assume that Norm and Cliff have been assimilated and Sam and Diane are soon to join the collective!

There's a lot going on here, so Lowell and Fay have to make the most of their screen time. They partake in some pretty good gags throughout, especially my man Lowell. We get another mention of the Hackett Bros. handyman's life on a house boat when Norm and Cliff say they are looking to do some deep sea fishing:

Norm: Cliffy, let's go down to the wharf and charter a boat.

Lowell: I've a boat for charter. She's a beauty, and I'll give you a great deal, too.

Norm: Sounds good.

Lowell: Of course, my family lives on the boat, but they won't get in your way. Don't mind the little one. He'll probably just crawl right up into your lap and fall asleep. At least that way he won't eat the bait.

Fay gets in on the act when Ted Cobb hits the terminal. He introduces himself, and she does her best to be helpful.

Ted: I'm Ted Cobb from American Flyer magazine. I'm looking for Joe Hackett.

Fay: That's him right over there. In case you need it for your article, my name is Fay Evelyn Cochran, my favorite color is blue, and I was the first stewardess to use the emergency exit gesture. [With both hands, she points straight ahead, then off to each side.]

Ted: I've seen your work. Thanks.

This is also a great episode for Steven Weber to strut his comedic stuff. Ted, it seems is well known to Brian.

Brian: Ted Cobb...you aren't the Ted Cobb who wrote for Mercenary Monthly, are you?

Ted: Yeah, I am.

Brian: Man, I loved your stuff! My favorite was the four-part article on the sucking chest wound.

Ted: Yeah, I was pretty proud of that.

Brian: I used to read your magazine from cover to cover when I was flying out of Mustique.

Ted: You flew out of Mustique? I lived there for two years! Did you ever go drinking at Basil's?

Brian: Are you kidding me? They named a drink after me: "The Traumatic Head Injury."

And just like that, poor Joe's dreams of being featured in American Flyer magazine...well...they fly right out the door. How can you compete with a brother who has lit Princess Margaret's cigarette with a tiki torch? Not to worry though, Gentle Viewer, there's still time at the end of the episode for the Brothers Hackett to reveal their true feelings to each other. And for Fay to admit that she is, perhaps, watching too much TV wrestling. Is that even a thing?!

Well, folks, you know what time it is. As we begin our final descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright positions. Be sure that you securely fasten your seat belts. Place your carry-on luggage beneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. We have been given permission to land, and our next flight won't be for another month. It won't be until November that we fly the funny skies of Wings and talk about Episode Three of Season Two, "A Little Nightmare Music." Why the month-long layover, you ask? Because it's October, and that means it's time for this blogger's 31-day trip through the land of witches, vampires, and ghouls. It's time for LARPing Real Life to talk Halloween! I hope you'll drop by during October and see what we're up to in these parts. I'll be writing about some of my favorite spooky movies, TV shows, radio shows, books, and more! It should be a good time.

The Month of Long Shadows

It's that time of year again, kiddies. The time of year when the air gets a little cooler. The shadows get a little longer. The sun goes to bed earlier and gets up later, giving the moon free rein to the night sky and leaving all the wee beasties that worship her to cavort across the darkened landscape undisturbed.

Not only is it the Season of the Witch, it is also the Season of the Blog. It's the time of year when I think it's a great idea to knock out 400-600 words a day until I have thirty-one blog entries about all things Halloween.

Halloween 2020 was such a blast, I thought I'd try it again this October. Last year, I configured a weekly schedule so that every day of the week had its own theme - Mondays were all about music, for instance, and Saturdays brought a spooky short story. 

This year, I've fallen a little behind in my planning and scheduling. I was honestly getting nervous and unsure if I was going to be able to throw something togther for Halloween 2021. Luckily, the good people behind Los Angeles's freakiest film group, Cinematic Void, did the work for me. Behold -- the Voidoween Movie Challenge!

I'll be following the Void's prompts (more or less) throughout the month of October. I'll be tweaking it here and there so I can write about things other than movies. I'll include entries on spooky music, novels, and audio drama. Like last year, I'll keep my entires short, sweet, and to the point. Think of them as daily campfire tales...and those aren't very scary...right?

If you are on Twitter, be sure to look for the #voidoween and #cinematicvoid hastags. As a matter of fact, why don't you join in on the fun? Share your daily movie choices and use the hashtags so everyone can see what you're up to.

See you on Friday!

Which Witch is Tucker’s Witch?

I’ve become a sucker for mysteries. I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point in the past five years, I moved away from science fiction, fantasy, and horror and fell head-over-heels in love with private eyes, police procedurals, and amateur sleuths. The format doesn’t matter - books, old radio shows, movies, television programs - just gimmie a dead body, a killer, and someone who wants to bring the killer to justice, and I’m a happy camper.

Like any addict, I’m always looking for the next high or the newest drug. I always have one eye open for an author or a TV series I’ve never heard of or seen before. Patricia Wentworth and George Baxt, for instance, are writers whose novels I’ve just discovered. Wentworth’s cozy tales of Miss Maud Silver and Baxt’s use of famous classic Hollywood actors and actresses as sleuths are scratching a lot of my itches these days. But, as I’ve said, as an addict, I need more, more, MORE!

 

So, I was intrigued when I happened across a TV show I’d never heard of before on Amazon Prime: Tucker’s Witch. It looked to be right in my wheelhouse. Set in Los Angeles, the show follows the exploits of a husband and wife private investigation team (played by Tim Matheson and Catherine Hicks) as they delve into the seedy side of SoCal life. They have a great house in Laurel Canyon that they share with Amada’s mother, Ellen (Barbara Barrie). They are assisted along the way by their firm’s sole employee, Marsha (Alfre Woodard), and by Lt. Fisk of the LAPD (Bill Morey).

There were plenty of male-female detective teams on TV in the 1970s and 1980s: McMillan & Wife, Hart to Hart, Moonlighting, Remington Steele. What set the Tuckers apart from the crowd was the fact that Amanda was a witch. Armed with psychic and telekinetic abilities, Amanda used her powers - as well as some help from her cat, Dickens - to gain insights into the cases she and Rick worked on. Unfortunately, her control of these powers wasn’t 100%. Sometimes the visions she had were a bit too vague or her ability to pick a lock with a snap of her fingers failed her at the crucial moment.

The novelty of the above combined with there only being 13 episodes meant that I could move Tucker’s Witch to the top of my viewing queue with few qualms. What I discovered in the first and second episodes, however, was a mystery in and of itself.

After a brief prologue showing the murder (more on that later), the credits sequence for the pilot episode appears. The title of the show is presented as The Good Witch of Laurel Canyon. No biggie, I thought, lots of shows change their names after getting picked up. Then, the cast is introduced, and I am completely confused. Instead of Catherine Hicks, top billing goes to Kim Cattrall. Her co-star isn’t Tim Matheson, but instead is Art Hindle. What is going on here, I wondered? Nonplussed, I nevertheless went with the flow and continued watching.

A man (played by Ted Danson) takes a woman into the elevator of an empty Los Angeles high-rise for a little late night foolin’ around. Before they reach their rooftop destination, however, the man hits the emergency stop button and kills the woman, leaving her body in the elevator.

Amanda’s dreams are filled with stories of the three so-far unsolved “elevator murders.” Dickens, Amanda’s feline familiar, tells her that there has been a fourth, but the newspapers have nothing to report. Marcia calls during breakfast to tell Rick and Amanda that there has indeed been a new victim found, and there is a Miss Barringer at the office who claims to know the killer’s identity. Her sister was the second victim, and she believes that her sister’s ex-husband, Frank Kopcheck, murdered her.

Following up on their new client’s leads, Rick and Amanda discover that the woman’s sister and the latest victim both had a keyring inscribed with the letters “DM.” These letters are the logo and trademark of a video dating business called Data Match. Rick and Amanda individually pose as singles and sign up for Data Match’s services. While there, they meet the owner of DM, Danny Kirkwood -- played by Ted Danson!

Rick figures out that each of the victims were married women who were using Data Match to meet new men. Their videotaped profiles are kept hidden in a backroom. Danny discovers that the tapes have been “borrowed” and trails Rick back to the Tucker & Tucker offices.

While Rick is on a “date” with Babs, a woman he believes may offer them more clues to solving the murders, Danny calls Amanda, asking her out on a date. Their destination? A newly constructed high-rise with an elevator that goes all the way...to hell!

Will Amanda escape from Danny’s clutches? Will Rick escape from Babs’s? Will Amanda’s powers help her or let her down?

All in all, it’s a pretty fun episode. Like Columbo, it isn't so much a whodunit as it is a howdunit. We know Danny is the murderer, but how are Rick and Amanda gonna figure it all out? There are loads of little humorous touches, such as Amanda using her powers to deal with a backyard peeping tom. The chemistry between Cattrall and Hindle is pleasant and believable, and both have the charisma for leading roles. The show may not have been groundbreaking television, but it had the promise to be entertaining. If I had seen this pilot back in the day, I would have looked forward to more adventures of the Tuckers.

Come fall of 1982, however, CBS replaced both actors with Matheson and Hicks in the roles of Rick and Amanda Tucker and re-shot the pilot as Tucker’s Witch.

Wha’ happened was Porky’s.

In between the pilot of The Good Witch of Laurel Canyon being filmed and CBS agreeing to pick it up in May of 1982, Bob Clark’s raunchy teen sex comedy was released to theaters in the United States and Canada. In that film, Ms. Cattrall portrays gym teacher “Lynn 'Lassie' Honeywell” whose turn-on is the smell of the equipment in the boy’s locker room. (I don’t write ‘em, folks, I just report on ‘em.) Alas, this turn-on was a turn-off to CBS executives. Cattrall was let go, and Hindle (who also had a small role in Porky’s) followed.

What’s interesting about being able to watch the original pilot and its reshot replacement back-to-back is seeing how the two episodes match up. Both the differences as well as the similarities are pretty intriguing. For example, in the remade episode, there are a few scenes that were trimmed or cut altogether. Camera set-ups were also different in some scenes. For every difference, however, there are plenty of things that remain the same. So much so, that you soon realize that they just reused shots when and where they could, which makes sense.

The biggest differences, obviously, are what Hindle & Cattrall and Matheson & Hicks brought to bear on their characters. While Kim Cattrall is very sexy and alluring (she is Samantha on Sex and the City, after all), Catherine Hicks has more of a girl-next-door quality. Both approaches work for my money. It would have been nice to see Cattrall get more of a run out in the role, but I love Hicks as Amanda Tucker. She has an earnestness about her that is perfect. Tim Matheson, too, has a charm and boy-next-door quality that Hindle doesn’t quite have. I like Art Hindle quite a lot. If you’ve never seen him in David Cronenberg’s The Brood, you owe it to yourself to check it out. Matheson just has more of a playful feel that makes him seem a bit more likeable. Watch the scene at Data Match when Rick is being shown around. Hindle doesn’t play it with the same devil-may-care attitude as Matheson, which I think is what you want in a private eye.

I want to continue talking Tucker’s Witch - I haven’t mentioned my love of Barbara Barrie as Amanda’s mother, Ellen, or the kickass convertible that the Tuckers tool around in - so I plan on throwing it into the rotation as a replacement for Wings every so often (which I promise we will return to soon). I’m also looking forward to writing about Tenspeed and Brown Shoe, the 1980 private detective series written by Stephen J. Cannell and starring Jeff Goldblum and Ben Vereen, as well as the Italian TV series Inspector Montalbano, based on the novels by Andrea Camillari. So, for the foreseeable future, it looks like we’ll be turning the tables on these private eyes and watching them watching them watching them...