Thriller - Late Date (1961 episode)

Late Date is episode 27 of the first season of the 1960-62 Boris Karloff-hosted Thriller TV anthology series. It first went to air in April 1961. I love all the American anthology series of that era. Thriller is uneven, but that’s part of the appeal an an anthology series - you never know whether you’re going to get a clunker or an absolute gem of an episode.

Thriller started out very much in the mould of the very popular Alfred Hitchcock Presents series, focusing on twisted crime stories with nasty stings in the tail. Initially audiences were a little underwhelmed by Thriller but as the series began to focus on supernatural horror audience enthusiasm started to build. There’s a noticeable and dramatic difference between the crime episodes and the supernatural horror episodes. Most fans prefer the horror stories and it’s arguable that the crime episodes are a little underrated.

Late Date is very much a crime story. It’s a suspense thriller story with a bit of a Hitchcock vibe and some definite film noir flavouring. It’s based on a Cornell Woolrich story so you expect some darkness.

It opens with a woman’s dead body on a bed, and a distraught man on the stairs. The man is Jim Weeks (Edward Platt) and the woman was his wife. His much younger brother Larry (Larry Pennell) assures him that the woman had it coming to her, and that everything will be OK. Larry has a plan to get his brother off the hook.

It’s a very elaborate plan. Maybe too elaborate for a plan that will have to be improvised. Right from the start everything that could go wrong does go wrong. In fact so many things go wrong that the story veers in the direction of black comedy, and black comedy in the Hitchcock manner. But it never quite becomes a black comedy. The emphasis remains on the suspense.

And there’s plenty of nail-biting suspense. Larry is quick-thinking and resourceful but he’s always just a millimetre ahead of disaster.

Of course there’s going to be a sting in the tail.

There’s some fascinating moral ambiguity here. We know Jim is a murderer but we see everything from Larry’s point of view and we like Larry and we admire his resourcefulness. We also admire his loyalty to his brother. We really want Larry’s scheme to work. We feel he deserves to get away with it - he’s tried so hard and he’s been through so much.

I haven’t read the original Cornell Woolrich story but Donald S. Sanford’s script feels very Woolrichian (within the limitations of what you could get away with on network television in 1961).

Herschel Daugherty directs with plenty of style and energy. Daugherty and cinematography Ray Rennahan achieve a very film noir atmosphere and a surprisingly cinematic look. Lots of shadows. This is a story that really benefits from being shot in black-and-white. There are some beautifully composed shots. This episode was made by people who cared about what they were doing.

Jody Fair is very good as Jim’s stepdaughter Helen. Edward Platt is fine. However this episode belongs to Larry Pennell and he’s excellent and very sympathetic and very human.

I love the inexorability of fate in this tale. You can see the things that are going to go wrong before they happen and that adds to the tension. As soon as you see Larry take the spare tyre out of the boot of his car (so there’ll be room for the body) you just know he’s going to get a flat tyre. The audience knows it, but Larry doesn’t know it. And there’s nothing he could do about it anyway.

Late Date is definitely worth seeing. Highly recommended.

I’ve reviewed lots of other episodes of Thriller - here, here, here and here.

Thriller, The Return of Andrew Bentley (1961)

The Return of Andrew Bentley was episode twelve of the second season of the classic TV horror anthology series Thriller (hosted by Boris Karloff) . It originally went to air in December 1961. It was scripted by Richard Matheson from a story written by August Derleth and Mark Schorer and directed by John Newland (who also stars). With personnel like that involved my expectations were very high indeed.

When it comes to movie and television horror (and science fiction) very few people have résumés that can match that of Richard Matheson. He wrote most of the best episodes of the Twilight Zone. He adapted his own novel for the superb 1973 haunted house movie The Legend of Hell House. He adapted his own novel for the equally good 1957 science fiction movie The Incredible Shrinking Man. He wrote the screenplay for The Night of the Eagle (one of the best witchcraft movies ever made) and for Roger Corman’s excellent Poe movie The Pit and the Pendulum. And of course he wrote the screenplay for Hammer's best-ever movie, The Devil Rides Out.

As an editor and publisher August Derleth is usually credited with having turned H.P. Lovecraft into a major cult figure. Derleth was a fine horror writer in his own right.

John Newland is best remembered as the host of the supernatural/paranormal anthology series One Step Beyond.

The time period in which The Return of Andrew Bentley isn’t stated but judging by the women’s dresses and the fact the protagonists arrive on the scene in a carriage would suggest the late 19th century.

Ellis Corbett (John Newland) and his wife Sheilas (Antoinette Bower) have been summoned to the decaying gothic mansion of Ellis’s uncle Amos Wilder. Amos appears to be quite mad. He tells them he is about to die and that he is leaving the house and his considerable fortune to Ellis, on certain conditions. They must live in the house and every day they must check Amos’s burial vault, looking out for anything that might indicate that the vault has been tampered with.

It seems that Amos had been a practitioner of black magic, along with a fellow named Andrew Bentley. They had a falling out. Amos thought Andrew had gone too far. Now Amos believes that Andrew is out to get him. Andrew Bentley is dead but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. And there’s always Andrew’s familiar to worry about.

Ellis and Sheila are plenty scared but there are two reasons they can’t just flee. The first is that they would then lose the inheritance, and they really need Uncle Amos’s money. The second reason is more honourable. Ellis made a promise to his uncle. So his motivations are both selfish and selfless which makes him more interesting than most such characters.

Initially we wonder just how much Ellis knows, or perhaps more to the point just how much he believes. Then he has a terrifying encounter in the crypt. Any scepticism he may have had soon vanishes, and Sheila sees something as well.

The episode then becomes full-blooded supernatural horror. This is not one of those stories in which the audience is left to wonder just how much of what they’ve seen might have a rational explanation. No rational explanations are possible. Ellis and Sheila are confronted with incontrovertible evidence. And the story is then played out dead straight. There is of course a way to defeat the evil, if you have the necessary knowledge of the occult.

There’s nothing tongue-in-cheek here, no jokiness and no attempt to be ironic or camp. Thriller had started life as an Alfred Hitchcock Presents-style mystery thriller series but by this time they’d realised that the series had to find its own identity as an unapologetic supernatural horror series.

The gothic atmosphere is laid on good and thick. The gloomy old house, the creepy burial vault, cobwebs everywhere, Amos’s pet falcon, loads of gothic paraphernalia, sinister caped figures, secret passageways, moody black-and-white cinematography (by John F. Warren). It looks terrific. There’s even an actual unequivocal monster, with special effects that work well enough.

John Newland does a solid job as director. He knows how to deliver the necessary scares.

He does a capable job as an actor as well. The whole cast is good, with Reggie Nalder very creepy as the ghost.

The Return of Andrew Bentley is fine supernatural horror, going all out for spookiness and scares. Great stuff. Highly recommended.

Thriller (1960) - four episodes

Thriller (AKA Boris Karloff Presents) screened on NBC from 1960 to 1962, was one of the legendary American anthology series of that era. What’s interesting about these series is that they all had their own distinctive flavours. Alfred Hitchcock Presents concentrated on crime stories with ironic stings in the tail. The Twilight Zone concentrated on unsettling stories of the weird and paranormal. The Outer Limits was science fiction generously laced with horror. Thriller started life as a mystery/suspense series in the Alfred Hitchcock Presents mould but quite early on the decision was made to move into overt horror but this was a gradual progression rather than a sudden change.

As a result of this what was great about Thriller was that you could never be quite sure if you were going to get supernatural horror or stories dealing purely with human evil. What makes the first season so interesting is that the early forays into horror are often stories that appear to be supernatural horror but turn out to have rational explanations but as the series progressed the supernatural starts to make its presence felt.

All of the American anthology series of that era have their strengths but Thriller had a visual style that was more flamboyant and more gothic than any of its rivals.

I’ve picked four episodes from the first half of the first season to talk about today.

The Purple Room

The Purple Room (written and directed by Douglas Heyes) has a classic much-used setup for a haunted house story. Duncan Corey (Rip Torn) has inherited an old house called Black Oak from his brother. The house is in the middle of an area slated for redevelopment so in a couple of years it will be worth a fortune. Under the terms of the will Duncan cannot sell the house until he has lived in it for one year, but he must make his decision as to whether he will live in it after spending just one night there.

If he decides not to live there the house will go to his cousin Rachel Judson (Patricia Barry) and her husband Oliver (Richard Anderson).

Duncan is both a cynic and a sceptic. He wants to sell that house and he is arrogant and selfish.

Rachel and Oliver meet him at the house and they seem to be pretty obviously trying to spook him, with tales of ghosts and mysterious deaths and other assorted horrors associated with the house. Duncan isn’t worried. He doesn’t believe in ghosts and he has a gun so he’s confident he can deal with any humans who might try any fake haunting nonsense. Duncan has very good reason to suspect that Rachel and Oliver are going to do anything they can to frighten him so when he starts to hear all the classic haunted house sounds - the creaking doors, the footsteps on the stairs, chains rattling etc - he naturally assumes that they’re responsible for those sounds.

But Duncan is not quite as confident as he seems to be. Being alone in an old isolated very spooky house, lit only by candles, really is pretty scary. He starts to get a bit spooked. And he suspects that Rachel and Oliver have drugged him as well.

Things don’t turn out the way any of the three protagonists expected when the plot twists start to kick in. The setup might be utterly conventional but Douglas Heyes (a great television) writer knows how to take such a setup and add some nasty twists.

The first thing you’ll notice about this episode is that the exterior shots of Black Oak are in fact the Bates House from Psycho. Thriller was made at Universal Studios and that house (which has been used many times since) was available and let’s face it, it’s a fantastic setting.

The three leads all give fine performances. They don’t trust each other and the viewer isn’t going to trust any of them. We know there’s going to be dirty work afoot, even if the supernatural doesn’t take a hand. And this being Thriller we can’t be absolutely certain that the supernatural won’t take a hand.

What’s striking about this episode is just how moody and atmospheric it is. And how gothic it is. Low-key lighting, lots of shadows, night scenes. Not quite what you expect from a 1960 television series. It doesn’t really look like television. It looks rather cinematic.

With a very strong cast, great writing and directing by Douglas Heyes and all that atmosphere this really is a very very good episode.

The Prediction

The Prediction (directed by John Brahm and written by Donald S. Sanford) is one of several episodes in which Karloff himself takes the starring rôle.

He plays Clay Mace, who has a very successful mentalist act. Clay is just an entertainer and would never claim to have any actual occult or paranormal powers. Or at least he thought he didn’t have any such powers, until one night he sees a vision of a young boxer being killed in the ring. And the prediction comes true.

Other predictions come true as well. This is very upsetting for Clay. Not only did he never claim to possess such powers, he never wanted to.

Clay’s assistant in his act is a charming young and beautiful woman named Noreen (Audrey Dalton). Noreen’s father is a drunk and treats her badly so she looks to Clay as a substitute father figure. Things get awkward when Clay sees a vision of the future which involves Noreen’s fiancé. The ending is effective and satisfying.

This is another example of Thriller taking an unoriginal idea but making it work, and work very well. Once again there’s plenty of slightly unsettling atmosphere, the visuals are impressive by 1960 television standards, the directing is tight and the performances are superb.

Karloff is in great form - slightly spooky but very sympathetic. Clay is a man desperately trying to come to terms with a very unwelcome gift which threatens his peace of mind and even his sanity. Karloff never overplays his performance.

The supporting cast is strong. Audrey Dalton is charming and likeable. Alan Caillou is terrific as her caddish father. Abraham Sofaer is wonderful as Gus, the owner of the club in which Clay does his act and a loyal friend.

The basic story idea had been done before (most notably in 1934 in the movie The Clairvoyant with Claude Rains) but it’s executed extremely well and Karloff’s performance is enough to make it something special.

Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook

Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook (written by Alan Caillou and directed by Herschel Daugherty) really piles on the gothic atmosphere. Detective-Inspector Harry Roberts (Kenneth Haigh) has been sent from Scotland Yard to investigate a murder in the small Welsh village of Dark Woods. An old man was killed - he was stabbed with a hay-fork and a cross was carved on his throat with a bill-hook. Which certainly looks like a ritual murder - this is the way the locals used to deal with witches.

The villagers of Dark Woods are not still living in the Middle Ages, They’re still living in a time earlier than that, a time when druids carried out ritual sacrifices. Witchcraft is taken for granted in Dark Woods. Harry Roberts is appalled to discover that the local policeman (there’s only one), a man named Evans, believes implicitly in witches. The Chief Constable, Sir Wilfred (Alan Caillou), assures Roberts that all the villagers believe in witchcraft. Sir Wilfred is worried that the villagers might found out that Roberts’ wife Nesta (Audrey Dalton) thought she saw a black dog on the road. The villagers think black dogs are symbols of witchcraft.

And now the villagers have burnt an old woman for witchcraft.

Harry Roberts slowly comes to realise that the village of Dark Woods is not part of the modern world. He’s not dealing with ordinary murders.

This episode is in some ways an anticipation of the wonderful 1973 British horror movie The Wicker Man, which also deals with a city policeman confronting ancient beliefs in a remote community.

Once again the acting is a major strength and when combined with lots of gothic cinematography the result is a very fine episode.

Well of Doom

Well of Doom (adapted by Donald S. Sanford from a story by John Clemons and directed by John Brahm) again features the kind of gothic visuals more usually associated with Universal horror movies of the 30s than with 1960s television. It’s obvious that the similarities to the look of those 30s Universal movies is very deliberate. And the gothic atmosphere is laid on very very thick indeed. The original short story by John Clemons had appeared in the Thrilling Mystery pulp magazine in 1936.

It is night and Robert Penrose (Ronald Howard), heir to a large estate and to be married the following day, is on his way to his bachelor party when he and faithful family retainer Teal (Torin Thatcher) are kidnapped. It’s not an ordinary kidnapping - they have been kidnapped by Beelzebub himself (calling himself Squire Moloch) and his servant Master Styx (Richard Kiel).

Penrose, who has apparently been a somewhat irresponsible rich young man in his youth, tries to buy his way out of trouble but Moloch informs him that all his money would not be enough to purchase his freedom. Penrose ends up being imprisoned in a dark dungeon where he slowly becomes aware of Moloch’s fiendish intentions.

The story is fine but it’s the visuals and the acting that make this one of the great Thriller episodes. Ronald Howard is excellent as the slightly effete slightly ineffectual hero who is going to have to play the hero if he’s to have any chance of survival. Henry Daniell goes gloriously over-the-top as the evil Moloch. Richard Kiel is equally good as the sinister Master Styx. Fintan Meyler is OK as Penrose’s bride-to-be but it’s really a very small part.

Well of Doom is a perfect example of Thriller at its most typical and at its best.

Final Thoughts

So, four episodes and all of them excellent and highly recommended. And they’re a fine example of Thriller in its transitional phase from a mystery/suspense series to a horror series.

I’ve posted a number of previous Thriller reviews here, here and here.

Thriller presented by Boris Karloff (1960-62), three more episodes

Some more episodes from the second season of the excellent American horror anthology series Thriller, hosted by the one and only Boris Karloff, which was screened on NBC in 1961-62.

Guillotine
Guillotine is an early second season episode which was originally screened in September 1961. The credits include some interesting names. Charles Beaumont, who wrote some of the best-remembered episodes of The Twilight Zone, wrote the script. It was based on a story by Cornell Woolrich, a writer whose delightfully twisted work has formed the basis for countless movies and TV plays in the thriller, horror and film noir genres. The director was Ida Lupino. A major Hollywood star in the 40s she went on to have an extremely busy career as a director, mainly in television, while continuing to do fine work as an actress.

Guillotine is set in France in 1875 and concerns convicted murderer Robert Lamont (Alejandro Rey). He has been condemned to death but he thinks he has found a way to avoid his appointment with Madame la Guillotine.

There is a kind of unwritten law that if the public executioner dies shortly before an execution is scheduled then the next man in line for the guillotine will be pardoned. All Robert Lamont has to do is to make sure that the executioner, Monsieur de Paris (Robert Middleton), dies at the correct time. Robert ids languishing in prison and obviously cannot kill him, but perhaps Robert’s wife Babette (Danielle de Metz) could do something about the problem.

We do naturally feel some sympathy for Robert. He’s not a thug or a cut-throat. He committed murder but it was a crime of passion. He may well be right in believing that he was very unlucky that the court did not see it that way. And we always tend to feel sympathy for the underdog or for someone in imminent danger.

On the other hand we feel some sympathy for Monsieur de Paris as well. He’s actually quite a pleasant and decent fellow. He has a passion for gardening and he is, in his private life, a kind man. But if he lives then Robert dies, and in order for Robert to live Monsieur de Paris must die. We can’t help feeling a bit torn. We’d really like both of them to live. We also feel some sympathy for Babette who is trying to save her husband’s life but she is planning to commit murder. This story rather neatly sets up all kinds of mixed emotions in the viewer, about all the characters.

Given that it’s based on a Cornell Woolrich story we expect that the sting in the tail will be a nasty one, and it is.

Lupino builds the suspense pretty well. We feel Robert’s agony - he believes he may be saved but he cannot be sure and the time of his execution draws steadily nearer and he still does not know.

There are solid performances from the three leads with Robert Middleton being especially good as the jovial headsman. A good well-crafted episode.

A Wig for Miss Devore 
A Wig for Miss Devore is a second season episode based on a short story by August Derleth, a rather underrated writer. Derleth and Donald Sanforth did the adaptation. It went to air in January 1962.

Sheila Devore (Patricia Barry) is a big Hollywood star. Or at least she a big Hollywood star but that was quite a few years ago. Now she’s forgotten, but sh’s planning to relaunch her career. She even has a script picked out for her comeback. She selected the script with Herbert’s help. Herbert Bleake is her devoted admirer, companion, indeed her slave. All he now has to do is to give Empire Studios chief Max Quink (Herbert Rudley) the good news.

Max doesn’t think it’s good news at all. Sheila Devore is a has-been and he has no intention of putting into a new film. Unfortunately Max doesn’t have a choice. You see Herbert is a book-keeper at the studio and he knows some interesting thongs about certain financial arrangements that are perhaps not entirely legal. So Max is going to have to give Sheila her comeback movie.

Sheila has selected The Legend of Meg Peyton to resurrect her career. It’s the story of a beautiful woman executed for murder and witchcraft. In order to inspire her performance Sheila intends to wear the actual wig worn by Meg Peyton. There’s a curious story about this wig and if Sheila had heard the story she might have had second thoughts about wearing it.

It’s not too difficult to guess what’s going to come next. Horror doesn’t really need to be original to be effective. It’s the execution that matters and in this case the execution is faultless. And knowing what’s going to happen next, or at least having a pretty fair idea what’s going to happen next, can add quite considerably to the horror.

Patricia Barry relished the opportunity do some outrageous overacting, and really there is no other way she could have approached this rôle.

If there’s a weakness to this story it’s the fact that Meg Peyton gets sidelined a bit. We assume that she possesses any woman who wears the wig but we don’t really get much of an insight into her motivations. We know she was a witch and that she was also accused of being a multiple murderess but that’s all we ever learn. Seeing the change that comes over Sheila when she puts the wig on does give us some clues but it’s not quite clear how much of her personality is her own and how much is Meg’s. Sometimes it’s an advantage not to over-explain things but in this case I’d have liked to know just a bit more about Meg.

Director John Brahm had enjoyed success as a feature film director in the 40s with horror and other dark themes being a bit of a speciality of his. Although he was inclined to take his time he made quite a successful career in television.

There’s nothing particularly original or startling about A Wig for Miss Devore but it is superbly executed and it works.

God Grante That She Lye Stille
God Grante That She Lye Stille went to air in October 1961 and it’s another tale of witchcraft, and it’s yet another of those witchcraft stories featuring a witch about to be executed pronouncing a curse which will have its effect several centuries later.

Notorious witch Elspeth Clewer is burnt at the stake, taunting her executioners. She had been condemned as both a witch and a vampire. We then move forward to the present day and find that Lady Margaret Clewer is being disturbed by nocturnal visitations. She sees a face at the window, but it is her own face.

Dr Edward Stone (Ronald Howard) is the village physician and he’s more than a little disturbed by the case. Lady Margaret’s symptoms are puzzling. Her moods are subject to wild swings. And then there was the blood on her face. Equally disturbing are the doctor’s feelings for Lady Margaret.

The vicar (played by Henry Daniell) has a remarkable knowledge of the events three hundred years earlier involving Lady Margaret’s ancestor Elspeth.

It’s obvious that Elspeth, dead three hundred years, has some kind of hold over Lady Margaret. It might be simply a psychological fixation in Lady Margaret’s mind. In fact as far as Dr Stone is concerned it must be that. He is a man of science. He turns to an eminent psychiatrist for help. Perhaps he should have listened more to the vicar.

This is another example of Thriller taking a fairly clichéd idea but doing it so well that the lack of originality is not a problem. A good episode.

four more Thrillers (1961)

A few more episodes of NBC’s Boris Karloff-hosted anthology series Thriller that I’ve watched recently.

These episodes are excellent examples of one of the greatest strengths of the series - it’s not just visually impressive by the standards of early 1960s television, it’s visually impressive by any standards. Production values are extremely high. The series was made at Revue Studios in Hollywood and Revue was basically the television arm of Universal at that time, which of course meant that television series made there had the resources of a major film studio to call on (including some great sets built for big-budget movies and of course the studio backlot). 

Thriller is also outstanding for the very cinematic quality that was achieved. The lighting is as good as you’d see in a top-of-the-range major studio B-movie or even in many cases the equal of lower-budgeted A-features. Despite the very tight shooting schedules the directors and the cinematographers made the extra effort and it paid handsome dividends.

Mr. George was based on a short story by August Derleth and directed by Ida Lupino. A little girl has been left a large fortune. Young Priscilla is cared for by her three middle-aged cousins, all of whom feel that the money should rightly be theirs. If only an accident were to befall the little girl they would have that money. Accidents do happen. Sometimes they can even be made to happen. The difficulty is that the girl has a protector, Mr George. Mr George is dead, but he still protects her.

Ida Lupino does a wonderful job here, with clever use of camera angles and framing but without these techniques ever appearing intrusive or gimmicky.

The cast is superb. Nine-year-old Gina Gillespie manages to be sympathetic without being  irritating as Priscilla.

Mr. George is a very fine episode that skillfully avoids the obvious pitfall of excessive sentimentality.

Parasite Mansion initially gives the impression that it’s yet another story about an innocent city-dweller discovering that all country people are psychotic knuckle-dragging rednecks but mercifully it’s really not that sort of story at all.

Marcia (Pippa Scott) is a young schoolteacher driving down a deserted country road at night in the rain when someone starts shooting at her. She then finds herself in a spooky old decayed mansion inhabited by a very scary family. The Harrod family has fallen on very evil times due to a family curse. In order to keep the curse a secret they are prepared to kill any strangers unwise enough to venture onto their property. 

Marcia thinks she’s figured out the nature of the curse but she’s way off beam and she’s in an increasingly desperate situation. It appears that her only hope of survival is to somehow discover what the curse really is and then persuade the Harrods to confront it.

Jeanette Nolan is outrageously over-the-top as the terrifying Granny. James Griffith gives a very complex and subtle performance as the tortured elder son Victor. Beverly Washburn  is terrific as the troubled but possibly very dangerous younger sister Lollie.

Parasite Mansion is pleasing atmospheric and it thankfully doesn’t go in the obvious direction. An excellent story and particularly well executed.

Dark Legacy, written by John Tomerlin, is lots of fun, with a stage magician whose dabblings in the occult became very serious. All his relatives seem to be magicians as well (although second-rate ones) and they’re all hoping that when he dies he’ll leave them the secrets to his most famous illusions. He does leave his secrets to one of them but they’re not quite what was expected. They might be somewhat dangerous.

This story is not played too seriously. In fact it’s deliberately outrageous but it works and stage magic combined with the occult is usually a winning formula.

Thriller began as basically a crime mystery series but after somewhat disappointing early ratings it moved more in the direction of supernatural horror (and the ratings improved dramatically). A Good Imagination, written by Robert Bloch, is a twisted murder story very much in the style of Alfred Hitchcock Presents and represents a kind of throwback to the early style of the series but in this case executed with real panache and some delicious black comedy. Edward Andrews gives a delightful performance as Frank Logan, a jovial and imaginative murderer. He’s a somewhat fussy book dealer while his wife detests books. She has other interests, principally men.

This is a hugely entertaining story. It can be seen as an homage to Edgar Allan Poe and indeed the whole point of this story is that Frank Logan uses books as an inspiration for his murders.

So four episodes here, and all four are very good indeed.

Thriller, two musical episodes (1960-61)

The late 50s and early 60s was the great age of American television mystery/suspense anthology series and the Boris Karloff-hosted Thriller is one of my favourites. Today I want to talk about two episodes that both deal with music and musicians, in very different ways and with varying levels of success. The episodes are The Terror in Teakwood and Papa Benjamin, both from the first season.

Both are stories about the price that a musician will pay for his art, a price that turns out to be much too high.

The Terror in Teakwood was written by Alan Caillou from a story by Harold Lawlor. It opens, in classic gothic style, in a graveyard. A man has bribed the caretaker to allow him to enter the mausoleum. What did this man want in the mausoleum? We don’t know but it certainly horrified the caretaker.

This is a story of two musicians, both great pianists, and bitter rivals. Carnowitz is now dead, but for the survivor, Vladimir Vicek (Guy Rolfe), the rivalry is far from over. Before he died his hated rival had composed a sonata that he alone could play - no-one else but Carnowitz was physically capable of playing it.

Vicek’s wife Leonie (Hazel Court) has become increasingly concerned about her husband. She suspects that someone is trying to kill him. She persuades her old flame Jerry Welch to take a job as Vicek’s manager in order to keep an eye on him. After an encounter with the creepy graveyard caretaker Gafke (Reggie Nalder) Welch knows that something is certainly going on and that it might have something to do with the teakwood box that seems to be so important to Vicek.

The plot borrows from a couple of classic 1930s horror movies but I won’t tell you which ones for fear of spoilers.

This episode was directed by Paul Henreid who had been a successful actor (best-known perhaps for Casablanca and Now, Voyager) before becoming a prolific television director. He does a fine job here. 

There’s an abundance of gothic atmosphere on display. The special effects work well. Guy Rolfe is terrific as the disturbingly obsessed Vicek. Hazel Court was one of the great cinematic scream queens appearing in Hammer’s The Curse of Frankenstein and several of Roger Corman’s Edgar Allan Poe movies including the superb Masque of the Red Death. Reggie Nalder is wonderfully sinister as the sly Gafke.

Papa Benjamin was written by John Kneubuhl from a Cornell Woolrich short story. An American band leader, Eddie Wilson (John Ireland), in search of the musical inspiration which he feels has deserted him, thinks he has found the answer in voodoo. He does find his inspiration, but at a terrible cost. His choice then seems to be to kill or be killed.

Ted Post directed this episode and in the audio commentary he recorded for the Image Entertainment DVD set he has some very harsh things to say about it. He felt at the time that Kneubuhl’s script was incoherent and badly needed extra work and (with each episode having to be completed in just five days) there was no time to do this. He was also deeply unhappy with the casting (which was forced upon him) of John Ireland in the lead role. He felt that Ireland’s performance was one-note and failed to get to grips with the character. Post was also scathing about producer Maxwell Shane.

It has to be admitted that Post’s criticisms are perfectly valid. While Papa Benjamin is beautifully shot and very atmospheric the story never really engages our interest or our sympathy. It is impossible to care what happens to Eddie Wilson. He’s a flat and uninteresting character.

The voodoo scenes work extremely well and there are some very nice film noir-influenced shots.

Despite the insane pace at which Thriller was made, with constant pressures to keep within the shooting schedule and the budget, production values were always high and it was always a visually impressive series. Sometimes, as in The Terror in Teakwood, the results exceeded all expectations - the best Thriller episodes such as this one are among the most outstanding television achievement of their era. Sometimes, as was the case with Papa Benjamin, it didn’t quite work.

The Image Entertainment Thriller boxed set is superb and includes a wealth of audio commentaries. The transfers are excellent.