Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 12--THE END (and insights)

We are at the end.  We've made it through the first acknowledged Great American Miniseries.  As we enter the final lap, some lives are fraying (Peter Strauss' and Susan Blakely's) and some are flying (Nick Nolte's).  The problem child has wised up and become a dependable man with a son and a fiancee.  The once-dependable man is hassled and henpecked.  How will it end?

At the very end of Chapter 11, Nick's seemingly blissful existence was about to gain cloud cover as sworn enemy William Smith had found him.  He had beaten up William Smith a few years earlier, so badly that William lost an eye.  As Chapter 12 starts, Herbert Jefferson brings Nick the news that William is nearby.  For now, Nick is so happy with his son back and in love with Kay, who finally accepts his proposal of marriage because she's pregnant.  

Fortunes are up for Nick, but down for Peter Strauss, his political career on the rise, but very unpopular with the youth who are angry at his position on ROTC.  In fact, he orders an editorial written "drawing parallels between the New Left and Hitler."  That's how out-of-touch he's become.  Worse yet, Susan has become a full-time lush, so bad even the maid can't deal with her.  She and Peter have a massive fight where both admit it is time to think about their failing marriage.  

The students decide to picket Peter's house, throw rocks and get Susan to open the door, naked and drunk.  Peter blames the mayor, the police and everyone else but himself, and only because of the affects it may have on his political career.  This is where he finally snaps.  All the years of creating his perfect life have been derailed and he becomes...his brother.

He goes to the school paper and tears the place up, punching a guy, knocking down a shelf accidentally on a girl, who is blinded by the chemicals falling on her, all of it caught by salivating photographers.  Their lives have finally reversed, to some degree.  

Susan goes to the hospital to dry out, worried that she has ended her husband's career, but he now takes full credit.  The guilt is eating at him, especially when the blinded girl acts very heroic about her state.  Peter and Susan want another chance, if she can give up alcohol and he can give up politics.  

Peter and Susan travel to France for Nick and Kay's wedding.  It's a joyous wedding and other than a sip of wine for a toast, Susan doesn't drink.  Nick is thrilled to have Peter there.  His present to his brother is a radar that Nick has always wanted for his boat.  "This is the greatest damn wedding anybody ever had," Nick claims in drunken delight, before passing out.  "I'm afraid the wedding night might have to be postponed," Kay admits in good cheer.  

In case the true reversal of fortune for the leads has not become obvious, it's Susan who points it out, telling Peter she can't believe how well Nick has turned out.  "He's changed so much," she ruefully says.  "Haven't we all?" Peter adds.  "But he's changed for the better."  

Unable to sleep, Susan leaves Peter in bed and goes to a bar.  Who joins her there?  William Smith, of course.  A local rushes to Nick to tell him he's spotted Susan in a seedy strip club with William Smith.  Nick tracks her down and finds William trying to rape Susan.  When Nick bursts in, William holds a knife to Susan before the inevitable William-Nick fight.  Susan is beaten up a little, Nick must worse, but when Nick has the chance to kill William, the latter begs for his life and Nick leaves him with it.  As he tells Kay proudly, "I could have killed a man, but I didn't."

Naturally, Peter is angry at Susan, both full of excuses, and the subject of divorce comes up again, tabled again.  

William exacts his revenge, looking from yards away as his goons stab Nick.  When Kay finds him, he's barely alive.  That means a hospital scene!  Naturally, it's between the brothers, Nick barely able to speak, but wanting his brother there at the very end.  "You go get 'em...you go get the bad guys," Nick says.  "I don't know who they are anymore.  I think I'm one of them," Peter cries.  "No...you're not," Nick assures him and then dies.  This scene is brief and handled beautifully, where it could have easily been drawn-out and maudlin.

Nick's ashes are thrown into the ocean by his son and wife, with his brother, sister-in-law and loyal Herbert in attendance.  "He died on the happiest day of his life," Kay assures Herbert.  Peter and Susan are able to join hands with some amount of hope as the miniseries finally ends.

And there you have it, all of "Rich Man, Poor Man."  It still sparkles with true genius.  The early episodes looked like they might have to rely heavily on vets like Ed Asner and Dorothy McGuire, who were utterly fantastic, but the three leads definitely stepped up and controlled the 12 parts like pros.  Actually, it would stand to be some of their best work ever.  Sure, Nick Nolte rose to superstardom, but it was erratic and often fueled more by controversy than talent.  Peter Strauss and Susan Blakely stayed with television.  Peter would not only return for more of "Rich Man, Poor Man" in an ill-advised sequel, but would pretty much play the same good-guy character to this day (and in a few big miniseries).  Susan Blakely

What's new is not the story, but the telling.  The 1970 Shaw novel could have very easily been condensed into a major motion picture, probably cutting most of the characters and all of the charm, leaving us with cardboard characters and fey storytelling.  Instead, a bunch of brave people decided to try something different: taking a lot of what British television had been doing for ages (and, in truth American television had tentatively done previously), filming the whole story, or most of it, in epic style. We're not chopping Shaw down to two hours, or even three.  It received 12 episodes and was broadcast over enough time to keep viewers interested.  This is something new.  It's not the standard 20some episodes of a cop or hospital show, where viewers didn't have to watch every week to know what was happening, but it was given the opulent treatment of a successful television drama.  It's also not daytime soap opera, which had done all of these plots before, stretching them out over years at a time.  It's a mix. Thus the term miniseries.  Everything is wrapped up in a tight package, but the package is bigger than ever mounted before.  

If a fairly hokey and predictable novel like "Rich Man, Poor Man" could be done in this style, what about something bigger?  What if we don't just travel through 20 odd years with a few people and a bunch of costume changes?  What if we go even bigger?  After all, that's what Hollywood is known for. In the immediate future, there was the bravery of adapting Alex Haley's "Roots," a long but very stark look at the very heart of American society, and further down the road such enormous sagas as "Holocaust," a European-based equivalent of "Roots" and every bit as brave, "North and South" or "Winds of War."  But, "Rich Man, Poor Man," while sending producers scrambling for well-reviewed long novels, also realized that it wasn't necessarily the saga of the thing, but the soap in it too, which led to "The Thorn Birds" or "East of Eden."  Hell, some of them weren't even that intelligent and spread before us "Harem" and "Kane and Abel," pure trash dolled up to look like the millions of bucks they cost.  

But they were all successful, to varying degrees, and this push toward big television kept on going for 20 years.  It ended with cable television and the Internet pulling away focus, but that's a story for 1995 or so, not 1976.  In 1976, "Rich Man, Poor Man" was staggeringly new, full of vivacity and emotion, setting rules for an entire genre no one knew would necessarily follow.  After all, this could have been an enormous dud.  If viewers were not gripped from the onset, there was no chance of keeping them hooked (a lesson learned years later when the miniseries reached its most outlandish size with "War and Remembrance").  But, "Rich Man, Poor Man" hooks.  It has real characters, small-town people with real problems.  Sure, they get a little lofty at the end, but their problems are always real: fear, jealousy, happiness, love, loss.  That's the secret to all the Great American Miniseries: dress them up in whatever finery you want, cast the hell out of the piece, give it all the trappings, but make it somehow relatable to people turning on their television sets.  They aren't paying money to go to a theater and see this, so they aren't trapped.  The only way to keep them is to grab hold from the beginning and never let go.  From the moment Rudy Jordache plays his bugle to herald the end of a devastating world war and the moment Tom Jordache sneers at it, from Axel Jordache miserable in a basement bakery to Mary Jordache ignoring the badness to focus on her shining star son, or even the simplicity of Susan Blakely as a candy striper reading "Gone With the Wind" to wounded soldiers, these are people the folks at home can understand.  Understand them, understand their problems, and stick to that.  The problems may get loftier (in minute ways like state politics here or in massive horrors like slavery or concentration camps in later pieces), but the way the characters deal with them will not.  Watch Meryl Streep in "Holocaust" and though the world is exploding around her, she only wants her husband back.

And that, as I see it, is the secret to the Great American Miniseries, letting the viewers in for a limited time to emotions they can comprehend.  Television usually keeps us outside of the box, laughing at outrageous Lucy ruining Desi's show, or Dorothy and Sophia snapping at each other, or by having Dr. Kildare solve yet another medical mystery we would never have been able to understand, ditto for Jessica Fletcher, asking us to stop our lives and give them over to other people for 30 or 60 minutes.  Not so with the miniseries.  Sure, you can send us to Medieval Japan in "Shogun," but what are we asked to believe there?  That the hero wants to understand what he's never seen and then falls madly in love?  Not so far-fetched (emotionally).  What was the secret behind "A Woman Named Jackie?"  That one of the 20th Century's most discussed women loved and hated and regretted and feared.  Sounds real enough to me, no matter the costumes or the sources of those emotions.  

Unfortunately, not every miniseries will be this intelligent, but they don't have to be because not everybody wants to think with the television on, though they can still come inside.  What emotions are we expected to have for Ted Bundy in "A Deliberate Stranger?"  None, it's just there for shock value, as would be many true-crime sagas, but we breathlessly follow Mark Harmon's every move.  What are we to make of "Fresno" other than feeling the hangover that comes with biting the hand that feeds you (and badly)?  Nothing, it's just there because someone thought it would be clever.  Or traditional epics that had been filmed before like beloved "Ivanhoe" or "The Scarlet Pimpernel?"  Nothing, just bask in the glow of their incredible storytelling for which you don't have to leave your home and pay money for seats and popcorn to get drawn in.  Granted, Ted Bundy and the French Revolution are delicious hooks for a television audience and they deserve more than just an hour condensation, but there is also the value of pure entertainment to be considered.  After 12 episodes of Susan Blakely's moping in "Rich Man, Poor Man," one has had enough.  One can still relate, but one can also want it to end.  The great thing is that it does, because the miniseries always end.  They do not continue season after season.  With that, we're back to the brilliance of creating such a genre.  

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 11

Folks, we have hit the penultimate episode of "Rich Man, Poor Man."  There are only about 90 minutes left to wrap up the story.  In Chapter 10, brothers Peter Strauss and Nick Nolte were reunited after many years to face the death of Mama Dorothy McGuire.  Peter won his election to the state senate, which caused Susan to crawl further into the bottle and become a danger to his career.  Meanwhile, Nick got the money to start his yacht charter business in Marseilles with pal William Jefferson, though ever aware that the mob is on his tail for an offense committed many years ago.  However, a more recent fight may cause his security to unravel.

We pick up the story three years after we last left it, in 1965.  Susan, sober at breakfast, is still a bit touchy, especially when Peter's career intrudes on their time together.  She has had no letter from her son, but she actually delights in a letter from Nick, who reveals in minute detail what has been going on with his yacht charter business.  "Yeah, but is he making any money?" Peter asks, now as icy and cold as perhaps his old mentor Robert Reed.  Nick and Susan came face to face with each other and settled their past in Chapter 10.

All is not actually well in this house.  Knowing Nick needs rich people to charter his boat, which he has named after his long-ago love Fionnula Flanagan, Susan suggests Peter tell Van and his wife Dorothy Malone they should hire him.  Yes, she admits she wants him gone for a while because "he scares me," although she can't explain why.  Peter says he might have to bring his political backer home for lunch, which Susan takes as a warning not to get "looped before lunch."

Peter has to dart off to his old college, where he's donated some equipment to the school paper he once helped to run.  The current editor, a youth of another generation, challenges him.  He wants to know if Peter will run for national election in 1966, and Van Johnson asks if he would vote for him.  Seemingly not, as Peter represents the old guard, though Peter reminds him of his voting record and that they actually may be on the same page.  Peter takes the ribbing, which Van Johnson sees as a sign that Peter may have "the right touch" with the youth.  The conversation then turns to Susan, whom Van hints is becoming a political liability.  Peter suggests Van and Dorothy use Nick's boat.

And they do.  The two arrive looking like the lead characters in "La Cage Aux Folles" (okay that's a cheap shot since Van Johnson still had the role of Georges in that show looming on his fading horizon), both sporting fake hair and lots of make-up.  The only problem is that their cook has never materialized and the Van Johnsons were promised a good cook.  The one they hired has landed himself in jail, but they find one in volunteering Kay Lenz, a perky blonde with legs for days (and a black eye from the cook who landed himself in jail by giving it to her).  The snappy banter between Kay and Nick is proof that sparks will fly.  That's been obvious since the movies started using sound, but it's a BIG ongoing way of introducing lovers in miniseries.  She gets the job and the yacht "shoves off."

Kay has a hit with her first dish, fish chowder, which Van and Dorothy adore.  "You better hang onto her, we may be taking her home with us," Van tells Nick, much to Dorothy's dismay.  She's noticed her husband looking at Kay.  She needn't worry, as Van Johnson plays this role gayer than any other role he played on film, and that's pretty damn gay, but then again, Dorothy Malone is intent on stealing whatever moment she can, even if it's campy and in a caftan.

Nick has of course fallen for Kay already, and acts like a goofy teenager around her, the second step to love after snappy banter in the handbook.

Two weeks go by, with Van and Dorothy having had a wonderful time, but Nick confides in Kay, now wearing nothing but skimpy bikinis, that they have no charters lined up and they desperately need money.  He also tells her about his son and how his wife took him.  "She was an alley cat...and so was I, no better," he notes, an awfully mature statement from our growing-and-learning bad boy.  As for his son, it's rather unbelievable that nitwit Talia Shire has managed to keep him hidden all these years, especially now that bigwig Peter Strauss has people looking for him.  But, that's Irwin Shaw's issue; we just have to deal with it.

Just when you thought there was no camp in "Rich Man, Poor Man," and I admit that we've made it through nearly 11 episodes with it relegated safely to Bill Bixby, who was dispatched ages ago, old hams Van Johnson and Dorothy Malone spew it all over the place.  You see, Dorothy wants to get into port and Van orders Nick to do it.  However, there are rocks in their path, so they have to take the long way, which will mean another night on board.  Dorothy, stripping down to a very unflattering bathing suit (from a very unflattering caftan), threatens to swim back if the boat isn't turned the right way and Van, as drunk as she is, orders Nick to do so.  Nick refuses and as Dorothy is wailing, Van Johnson punches Nick Nolte.  Yes, Van Johnson, who spent much of his career cuddling up to the likes of Judy Garland, punches one of film's all-time badasses, Nick Nolte

Actually, Van departs, sober, apologizing for his behavior and giving Nick a lot more than promised, also telling him he'll refer his rich friends.  Dorothy even tells Kay "you're a good cook."  They want to book the entire month of June next year.  See, sober movie stars can be humble.  With violins going full tilt, Nick asks Kay to stay on permanently, wrapping her in his arms.  After having had sex, Kay wants to know where the name of the boat came from, but he replies, "someone I knew I was a boy," which is the truth.  His language is awfully flowery as he confesses his love to Kay.

Meanwhile, back in the USA, Peter has tracked down Nick's old manager Norman Fell, living in squalor, on his quest to locate Nick's son.  It turns out that the mafia no longer cares about the vendetta and Nick is not only safe to return, but "he can lead the Columbus Day Parade down Fifth Avenue," in Norman's colorful language.  Norman knows the name by which Talia Shire goes, but not where she lives.  Peter calls Nick in France to tell him he's found his son and to get home immediately!

That's good news for Nick's son, but Susan's son is in trouble.  He's being kicked out of school, which means he could be sent to Vietnam.  Peter promises as soon as he reunites Nick and his son, they can fly to California and deal with her son.

So, what happened to Talia and the kid?  Well, Talia divorced Nick on grounds of desertion (which she actually did to him), sent the kid to a military school and has become a hooker.  "She's a professional.  When I had her, she wasn't even a gifted amateur," Nick quips in a rare display of actual humor.  Susan interrupts Peter's telling of the tale to Nick with a drunken harangue about her son again.  Nick and Peter actually notice that perhaps their lives have turned.  Nick is convinced that life would be the same if he had stayed: Peter would be successful and he would be the reject.  But, Nick's boat is a success, he's happy and in love, while Peter has a stressful career and a wife he always wanted, neither of which bring him any happiness.  Nick says aloud that he never knew "life could be so good."  Oh, Nick, if only you knew!  That is a miniseries kiss of death!  But, you couldn't know that since you are helping to invent these questionable rules.

Nick goes to find his son Michael Morgan at the military school, but tight-ass colonel in charge has a file on the kid that says his father is dead.  Nick flings his passport at him and then they exchange some witty banter about the kid's mother.  Nick is informed that Michael has been "a problem" for fighting, but the colonel refuses to let the boy go until both parents agree to take him out.  Nick shows him the file on Talia and they can't wait to get rid of him fast enough.

It's here, with only moments to go in the second to last episode of the piece, that we know for sure Nick's character has become a man.  He gets a child.  Sure, he sired the kid, but he was never a father.  Only oceans of time and space have made him ready for the task.  It's worth nothing that Peter, who has always been the stable one, doesn't have a child.  His was miscarried and the only one he has access to is his wife's by a former marriage and he's living 3000 miles away.  Once again, the question is asked, who is the rich man and who is the poor man?  We're not talking about money anymore, we're talking about quality of life.

But perhaps we always have been.

But you knew that.  We've been through enough together to be on the same page, my friends.

From there, it's off to California to meet Susan's son, future soap hunk Leigh McCloskey.  He couldn't be less excited to see them.  He's an ass from the start.  Talking to Susan, in yet another turban, he confesses that his girlfriend's family doesn't like him, because they think he smokes pot.  "Well, do you?" Susan asks.  "No, Mother, I prefer booze, like you," he sasses.  Peter has to play the heavy, referred to as "the plastic hippie" by his stepson.  Apparently, Leigh has always thought Peter had his real father killed, and he blames his mother for both abandoning and spoiling him.  In fact, he wants nothing to do with either of them and asks to be cut from their lives, for the most part (one assumes he'll still take their money).  "Goodbye Mother, I'll write to you," he says insincerely, crushing fragile Susan even further.

Six months later, Michael has become his father's right arm on the yacht, blending into the family Nick has created along with Herbert and Kay seamlessly.  However, one afternoon, Nick and company leave the boy in charge of the boat.  His head is turned by two French cuties he invites aboard.  Meanwhile, Nick proposes to Kay in a very cute way, but Kay uses Michael as an excuse.  She feels the timing isn't right, but tells Nick to ask her again after the boy has had time to get used to things.

Herbert arrives with the news that Michael, trying to impress the girls, took the boat out and banged it up.  Nick goes out furiously looking for him, roaming the streets all night.  How will Nick handle it?  Like his father would have, with a beating (that we see in a flashback)?  Nope, not this Nick.  He hugs his son and chirps, "tomorrow I'm going to show you how to fix a propeller."

Aww, that's sweet, and it would be a perfectly happy ending to the day if it weren't observed by returning William Smith, sporting a patch over one eye and a lot of hatred in the other.

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 10

Once teenage dreamers, the three leads of "Rich Man, Poor Man" are about as adult as possible when Chapter 10 starts.  Peter Strauss is running for public office, supported in words, but not spirit, by his wife Susan Blakely, who has just miscarried, and Nick Nolte wants to leave the merchant marines to start a yacht charter business on the French Riviera.  For once, it's Nick who seems the happiest of the lead characters, though that can always change quickly as the plot starts to come to its climax.

It's 1962, Marseilles.  Nick and his buddy Herbert Jefferson are still technically tied to the merchant marines and thus the merciless and very childish hazing of muscular moron William Smith.  After enjoying two days away, they come back to two day's worth of dirty dishes, cleaned up just in time for William Smith to dirty the whole kitchen again.  He's s different kind of villain than any other in the movie.  The first was Ed Asner, an immigrant with crushed dreams that proved too heavy to bear, but not a bad man at heart.  Then there was Robert Reed, who deflowered the leading lady and has been playing puppeteer with the lives of the leads for decades, though not without their knowledge of agreement, a manipulative man who likes to enjoy power, but also does good with it.  William Smith is just a cartoon bully.  He looks like a cartoon villain and is written like one, so ridiculously evil that he's not even worth enjoying as a character because you know he'll get his miniseries comeuppance in a big way (though, not to ruin anything, it only partially happens here--we have to wait for "Rich Man, Poor Man Book II" to get the true end of his inane plotting).  He's the prototype for a lot of miniseries villains to come, the main one being Adolph Hitler.  Even in the miniseries that are told from Hitler's point of view, or try to imbibe the story with some semblance of German sympathy, Hitler is always the raving lunatic who will meet the bad end, so let him overact the hell out of his scenes because our leads will always end up just fine (well, except in "The Bunker," where he is the lead).

In a truly grotesque piece of business that is handled with "Rich Man, Poor Man's" usual flair for knowing exactly what to show and what not to show, William Smith follows his favorite target, Herbert Jefferson, into his cabin where he more than suggests they are going to have sex.  Herbert Jefferson tries to fight him off, but William Smith puts him in a choke hold and the camera pans down to his foot closing the door.  William Smith emerges smiling and sated when Nick Nolte sees him.  Nick goes to his friend, but we only HEAR him say, "it's alright, I'm okay" and then Nick is in the dining room where we know he's going to exact some sort of revenge.

He throws his drink in William Smith's face and they agree to a rumble.  Nick was warned not to fight, lest someone recognize him from his past life as a boxer and remember the crime from which he's running.  The two tussle with the rest of the crew watching and Nick actually knocks him out.  "I've seen that guy fight as Sunnyside Gardens," one of the crew members says, right before William pulls a knife and jams it into Nick's leg in a surprise attack.  Nick beats him to a bloody pulp.  No use being upset as they take William Smith off in a stretcher, looking like he's lost an eye.  The character deserved it he was merely a plot device to bring Nick back to reality.  The captain doesn't turn him into the French authorities, but he does tell him to leave ship in NYC, where the man who recognized him knows he can cash in on what he knows.

Back in New York, Peter has become a popular politician fighting against the corruption of the old guard, running for a state senate seat, but losing steam.  Wife Susan Blakely is a shellacked politician's wife with a hairdo and wardrobe that bore even her.  His campaign manager, Van Johnson, has brought his wife along, played by the 1950s most questionable Oscar winner, Dorothy Malone.  She's an old hand at surviving politics.  She has a dose of realism and a big drink for Susan (which has already started to become a problem for the latter).  Dorothy and Susan watch as Peter, Van and the others start to play politics every bit as hard as what he's supposedly fighting.

While Dorothy and Susan are enjoying their drinks, a call comes in that Peter's mother, Dorothy McGuire, is very ill.  "Damn it," he curses, having to leave politics for his mother, who used to be the darling of his life but has turned into a petty annoyance (in truth, the character has been turned from a wonderfully-developed and understanding woman into a rather idiotic shrew, so it's hard to work up a whole lot of sympathy).

As Nick's boat steams into the New York harbor, one cannot help but notice a IMMENSE error.  The camera pans around the buildings and comes to rest on the Twin Towers at the World Trade Center.  Watching such a noticeable camera move is obviously a shock to anyone watching "Rich Man, Poor Man" after 2001 will obviously be startled by the gleaming towers, but that's not the problem.  The problem is that it's 1962, more than a decade before they were completed and years before they were even started!  That's simply bad editing.  No one noticed that?

William Jefferson and Nick Nolte have to part, at least for now, their dreams of chartering yachts in France put on hold.  Nick returns to the fleabag where he had hidden out before shipping off to find out that Peter had stopped by looking for him.  "Want me to get him?" his friend asks.  "What I want, in this order, is a bottle, a blonde, something to eat and a newspaper," Nick decides.  Nick realizes he's been recognized on the boat and he's told the mob guys are still after him, so Nick needs a gun.

Just as Nick is given the gun, Peter comes into the room, starting at the barrel of it.  It's a hokey go-to-commercial moment that we will see over and over again in the ensuing years, and one that even daytime soap operas had down pat by 1976.  It would take nighttime soap operas to make a moment like that carry interest for an entire summer, rather than through a few minutes of advertising for cat chow and bleach alternatives.

The brothers have not seen each other in many years, and it may seem strange that a VIP like Peter Strauss, risking being caught in a seedy motel with his on-the-lam brother, a gun and a hooker (the blonde is still there), has to deliver the news about their mother in person, but that's drama for you.  Peter simply drops the news about their mother's condition amid all the squalor and the two drive upstate.  Nick is the chattier one, seemingly proud of his brother.  Peter is most happy to announce he's "finally" married Susan.  They seem as different as, well, a rich man and a poor man, but even Peter takes a swig out of the bottle as they dash to face mom in the hospital.

Dorothy McGuire has made it through all of "Rich Man, Poor Man," including the weird character transformation, and she certainly deserves the hospital deathbed scene you knew was coming the moment we heard she was sick.  It even starts with a priest, a monsignor, no less, having just administered last rights.  "She's been holding on until you could get here," he tells Peter.  The doctor isn't even sure she can hear, but no actress is going to give up this chance!  She seems catatonic, clutching rosary beads, but then her hand twitches.  She speaks, incomprehensibly, asking for Peter, not realizing it's her other son there with her.  "Is that you?" she asks him, slowly.  He pulls out a present he long ago promised her, a scarf with a Mediterranean map, lying a little and saying he already has his operation going and his son back with him.  She has a slow apology for short-changing him.  "I gave so much to [Peter], there wasn't enough left over for you," she says, no doubt sparking water works in millions of viewers.  "Try not to hate me," she asks and then asks Nick to hold her as she finally dies.  It's interesting to note that Peter has not been in the room the whole time.  It's her wayward son, the one she discarded, who is with her as she breathes her last.  Nick acts the moment beautifully, quietly realizing the impact of the moment.

Susan is out in the hallway, not having seen Susan since her night with Robert Reed, but he can only handle so much emotion.  "Am I the only one who needs a drink around here?" he asks.  Robert Reed, sporting gray hair and a weird accent, weirder than before, is at the funeral.  He also hasn't seen Susan or Nick since the night as his house.  "I hope we can get together, discuss old times," he says like the cunning fox he is, but Susan is mature now.  "I'm really not one for discussing old times," she retorts, pulling her hand away from his.  Peter is the only person there who doesn't know the secrets that could still split them all.

However, Susan, in yet another turban, can't help but remember the past and as Nick drinks heavily, he's a little fuzzy on things.  Peter brings up the fact that Nick set the fire that fateful night at Robert's place, asking him why he set the fire.  Luckily, the conversation steers clear of the exchanged glance Nick and Susan shared that night, but when a guest calls Peter away, Susan plays martyr and snaps at Nick, "now would be as good a time as any to tell him."  "There's nothing to tell.  Really.  Truth is, my eyes were so burned from that fire, everything is a blur," he gallantly replies.  Susan has a panic attack and Nick comforts her, but one of Peter's political cronies storms in with good news, though Peter seems oblivious to the fact that it's a bad time; Nick and Susan clearly see the absurdity.

It's a moment like the above that begs the question, once again, of just who is the rich man and who is the poor man?  On the surface, life has sucked for Nick, yet he's always content, always able to deal with what life throws him, while Peter has boxed himself into a shrink-wrapped life that is rather unpleasant and entirely too clinical.  Unfortunately, the acting isn't always consistent enough to completely power this question, but at least the writing realizes it.  A lot of bigger and grander miniseries will be coming that ask bigger and grander questions in far more stilted or laughable ways.  "Rich Man, Poor Man" yet again glosses over the truth with a light touch, just enough to make one aware that it has not spiraled into epic boredom, grasping to get to the end because it has to (take that "Scarlett").

The brothers meet in the kitchen in the middle of the night and it's the first time they use the title words to describe each other.  It turns out Nick is richer by almost $50K, a complete surprise to him.  You see, the last time they met, when Nick gave Peter the $3K he felt he owed Peter for Ed bailing him out of jail, Peter took the money and invested it.  It's grown into piles of money, money Nick can use to finance the dream he had with Herbert Jefferson in France.

As Nick and Herbert depart, and after Nick says "I'm running out of people to hate," finally aware that his brother has never been his enemy," Peter promises to find Nick's son for him.

On election night, the race is close, but it seems Peter is winning when of course more drama gets in the way.  Susan is at home, drunk as hell smashing her beloved photographic history with a hammer.  "I want to take you to bed," Peter says, meaning put her to bed, but Susan has a different take on it.  "You won't be the first, and if I play my cards right, you won't be the last either!" she spits.  Miniseries mantra: when things seem good, they are about to go downhill quickly.  Susan is a crying mess when the press arrives at Peter's house to announce he's won the election.  It's his most exalted moment and her biggest nightmare.  There is no happiness for someone without unhappiness for someone else.

If Chapter 10 taught any lesson, it's that those who seem to be at the bottom have nothing to lose and all to gain.  Nick is a man running for his life who walks into a huge amount of money and can finally set his life on course.  Meanwhile, Peter is a man at the top, which is a tough place to be because one cannot go any higher, one can only fall, and with the mess Susan has turned into, she's threatening to drag him down with her.

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 9

The brothers of "Rich Man, Poor Man" seem to be going through a change.  Who is good and who is bad?  It's hard to tell.  Sure, Nick Nolte has to leave the country for pissing off the Mafia, but it's self-protection.  It's Peter Strauss as the hard-nosed businessman who is becoming less attractive.  Age and money have given him an ego, but then again, the people around him (his mother, his boss, even Susan Blakely) are also fairly unpleasant people, nothing like the hopeful innocents who celebrated the end of World War II.  As we pick up the story in 1962,  it's unclear who is to be admired anymore.

Peter is breaking up the financial partnership with Ray Milland, who is as upset as Peter's mother.  "Who retires at 35?" Ray asks.  "He has no time for anything, not even his mother," Dorothy complains.  The next step is politics, as local bosses try to draft him into running, not caring what party he's affiliated with.  He also proposes to Susan AGAIN and she puts him off AGAIN, though her reasons are wearing awfully thin, so thankfully this time, she agrees to marry him!  Yes, in fact, here is a television moment that is different: a wedding begins the episode rather than ending it.  


I'm not entirely sure what Susan's outfit is all about: turban on her head, fur-ringed around the neck.  Dorothy talks during the wedding, telling an uninterested Ray she wishes her other son were there, but "he's in South America, the merchant marines."  Give that about eight seconds to settle in and we're doing 70s stereotyping without apology.  Nick gets off his ship and there is a man resting on the ground with his sombrero over his face.  


Nick sees a fight going on at the wharf, where insanely muscular William Smith almost kills a guy with his bare hands.  They take an instant dislike to each other.  


In high contrast, Peter is on the golf course, the ultimate rich man's enclave.  He's playing with his old pal Tim McIntire, who wants to replace him at the company and is also dating Kim Darby.  Peter tells him Kim is seriously mentally wigged out, but Tim doesn't believe him.


From there, Peter goes to meet the political bigwigs, headed by none other than Van Johnson (wearing a big wig on his head, FYI).  They want Peter to run, but Peter takes the high road: no deals or anything without his knowledge.  Basically, he doesn't want to be in any one's back pocket.  You have to laugh at that sort of naiveté, and I'm sure audiences in 1976 did, as they would elect unknown Jimmy Carter over known quantity Gerald Ford, their first chance to blot the stain of Watergate.  Unctuous Van agrees to the terms, though with a glint in his eye that says, "yeah, whatever."


Nick meets another seagoing reject, Herbert Jefferson Jr.  Herbert is friendly, but Nick tries to keep to himself.  In comes William Smith, who slings every racial epithet at Herbert Jefferson, with whom he refuses to be in the same room.  Nick doesn't say a thing, but finds Herbert Jefferson later to explain that he can't be caught fighting or else someone will recognize him.  


Still going with the fur theme, this time on her peignoir, Susan is very pregnant and very ill-tempered.  She yaps at Peter any chance she gets and though she denies missing her old life, she clearly does.  As Peter is about to leave for the day, Susan starts having horrible pain.  She's lost the baby.  


Waiting outside his home when Peter gets there is nutso Kim Darby, who tells him, "I wish it were her who died," not at all what Peter wants to hear, and she continues shouting through the door when he locks her out.  Alone, he can have his first breakdown of the entire miniseries.  However, he always makes conversation swing back to himself, even with Susan at the hospital where he offers to get out of politics if she doesn't like it, but since he feels he can fix the entire system from within, he wants to keep at it.  She has no choice but to agree.  


At a stopover in the French Riviera, Nick (who kind of speaks a bit of French) and Herbert Jefferson decide to buy a boat in order to give charter tours so they can live there the whole time.  However, the boat costs $15K.  Nick somehow thinks he can get the money and his son and live comfortably there.  


Despite Peter's warning, Tim marries Kim, giving Dorothy and Ray a chance to bitch to each other again.  Even at her wedding, Kim starts in on Peter.  It's at the wedding that Susan gets to meet Van and the rest of the political team.  They have their own ideas about what to do with Susan during the campaign, none of which seem to thrill her.

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 8

"Rich Man, Poor Man" is a whole lot more exciting for the poor man right now.  Attracting trouble like a magnet, Nick Nolte re-entered the boxing world, still intent on finding his wife and kid, only to come up against Mafia-backed boxing superstar George Maharis, not to mention George's sexually voracious wife.  By the time Episode 7 ended, Nick needed to leave the country quickly.  As for Peter Strauss, he's become a bland businessman, though a rich one, still wanting Susan, though he makes no effort to see her unless they happen to end up at the same party where he finds out she's divorced.

Susan is dealing with a cantankerous son, who has a rather bad attitude and still doesn't understand why his parents are divorced.  He's supposed to go on a field trip, giving Susan an excuse to spend the day with Peter.  "You're right on time," Susan tells him when he arrives.  "Give or take 13 years," Peter chirps, as in love with her as ever.  Their day consists of Charlie Chaplin movies and a goony Italian restaurant with checkered table cloths and a man with an accordion.  They argue at dinner for absolutely no reason, except to postpone yet again the two of them having more than two minutes of possible happiness.  But, a kiss softens the moment and leads to Peter and Susan FINALLY having sex for the first time...ever!

Peter proposes, but Susan prevaricates over and over, substituting witty remarks for real answers.  When Susan returns home, she finds Bill Bixby there, much to her son's delight, but the dread of the set designer, because Bill loves nothing more than to chew the scenery.  He even turns on the waterworks in a grand piece of manipulation.  He livens up things, that's for sure, but his style is on a different planet than rock-ribbed Susan and Peter.  "I want to come home," Bill tells her, and if she agrees, there goes Peter's latest attempt to be with Susan.  But, you knew that was coming, because "Rich Man, Poor Man" is nothing if not stalwart in its plotting: when people are happy, the universe steps in to botch it up.

Nick had been sent to NYC by his boxing manager Norman Fell to escape the mob and the police, and instead of going to Norman's friend to get him immediately into the merchant marines, Nick pays a visit to the private investigator he's been using to find his wife and son (not that the guy has done anything but soak Nick).  The PI tells him there are people looking for Nick and he wants nothing to do with him.  It will take $500 to get Nick into the merchant marines.

The only place he can go for that kind of cash is his brother.  Peter isn't at home but Dorothy McGuire is.  Peter's new found wealth has been a boon to her, as she now dresses like a fancy lady, wearing jewels and even plays cards with the maid.  When Nick arrives at the house, Dorothy is so shocked she faints.  There's a lot of catch up to do, and Dorothy goes into her poor little old lady routine that she's so honed on Peter, but Nick is tougher than his brother and hits her up for the money he needs.  She assures him Peter will not find out, "not the way he pinches pennies these days."  Despite the problems Nick has caused over the years, Dorothy does tell him "I wish we had longer."

Dorothy is not at all happy when Peter brings Susan Blakely.  The old lady finds Susan's behavior, divorce, parenting skills and just about everything else shameful.  She thinks Susan is after Peter's money.  "What's she doing, looking over the place before she moves in?  And where do I go? Into the maid's room...?" Dorothy wonders, the annoying personality of the character front and center, a long way from the loving and understanding mother who helped her horrible husband run a bakery while she proudly raised her sons.  "I will not have that slut in my house!" she demands.  "She is not a slut and this is not your house," Peter replies angrily.  When Dorothy refuses to even speak to Susan, Peter threatens to cut her off financially, more proof that he's become a scary self-focused businessman.

Also not happy with Peter is his boss, Ray Milland.  His scheming daughter, Kim Darby (the one who poisoned Dorothy against Susan), has convinced him that Peter has "seduced" her and Ray insists they get married, complete with full partnership and stock.  Peter develops a spine and tells Ray off with huge gumption.  "I'm sick and tired of dragging you into the 20th century with you fighting me every step of the way," he begins, then tossing everything at Ray that's been built up over the years, not to mention quitting.  Maybe there is a bit of an idealist left in this character after all.  Somehow, this tirade works and Ray way too suddenly realizes his daughter has been lying and gets over his anger.  It's a very bizarre scene that spins way too fast.

Digging his new-found cojones, Peter offers to "take care" of Bill Bixby for Susan, so he summons Bill and offers him a job that will keep him from New York City.  The money he tosses at Bill is attractive, but Peter forbids him from even saying goodbye to his son.  "You can write him a nice letter," Peter snarls before Bill asks for a car too.

Hours before he's supposed to ship out, Nick is cornered by the mob (in a movie theater, no less).  However, he manages to evade all 428 goons and get to his ship.

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 7

Chapter 6 of "Rich Man, Poor Man" wasn't good for couples.  Talia Shire took the baby and left Nick Nolte, which is actually a plus for the story.  Unfortunately, Susan Blakely's sick child brought her and wayward spouse Bill Bixby closer together, pushing off the romance with Peter Strauss for which they both had been pining since high school.

It's now 1958, another four years gone by.  Peter gets a bizarre call from his old friend Lawrence Pressman to meet him the next day because he's in trouble.  The phone rings mom Dorothy McGuire too, asking who called.  "You mean that Bolshevik?" she pipes in before setting off one her zillionth tirade about her husband having faked his death, still alive somewhere.

Nick heads to Los Angeles to reconnect with boxing manager Norman Fell, after having abruptly left him, desperate for work. At the gym, he meets Norman's current big deal, arrogant and obnoxious George Maharis and his wife Lynda Day George.  Rusty Nick gets knocked around by cocky George, but blond stunner Lynda takes a liking to Nick.  Lynda tells Nick that she and George "don't sleep together" when he's preparing for a fight, which Nick takes as a veiled invitation.  That's exactly how she meant it.

Over the years, Peter has become a very big deal at what has become an empire fashioned from Ray Milland's department store.  What hasn't changed is Ray's daughter Kim Darby, who still pines for Peter.  To trap him into some time together, she's moved heaven and earth to secure tickets to "West Side Story" on Broadway.  Broadway fans will know that's a factual absurdity as "West Side Story" was not a gigantic hit and a year into its run (of less than two years), tickets would have been pretty easy to come by.  "Afterwards, you can take me to supper...that's so you won't feel so emasculated," Kim tells him.  Uh huh.  Luckily for Peter, company lawyer Dick Sargent calls, so Kim has to scoot.

Then comes the mysterious lunch with Lawrence, clearly on edge.  He's up for tenure, but his leftist politics may kill that.  He swears he's not a Communist, but he can't simply admit that because he feels it's a violation to be asked.  So, he wants Peter to tell the board for it.  "I'm taking a principle stand but I want you to bail me out," he says frankly.  Making it even more difficult is that Peter's boss is on the tenure board and his future is in jeopardy if he helps Lawrence.  Success is starting to turn Peter into a member of the stuffy old guard.

Dick throws a party and Susan Blakely is there, but Kim clings to Peter and tries to assert rights over him, getting awfully clingy.  "No wife, nothing like that?" Susan asks him.  "I don't even have a dog," he replies.  Susan has also finally shed her drunken husband, but her date to the party is an oaf that sets Peter on edge.  "You and I are going to be married one of these days...it's ordained, it's inevitable," Peter crows, having waited so long for her.

However, Kim isn't playing nice.  Peter takes the drunken girl to her hotel, but she starts getting aggressive in the cab.  When he rebuffs her, and she screams that he only used her to get in good with her father.  "I just wanted you to make love to me," she tells him when they get to her destination.  Peter still doesn't fall for it and Kim launches into a tirade that ends with, "I'll get you, you bastard," but starts with another condemnation of his status as a stuffed shirt, the second time in this episode that accusation has been lobbed against him.

Norman and his boxing boys are in Las Vegas for George Maharis' big fight, a sold out affair.  Nick is still being used as a sparring partner for George, though both he and Norman know Nick could easily beat the hell out to him.  There is a lot more going on with them, such as the scary dude who seems to have control over George and the hotel employee who follows Lynda and reports on her movements to George.  That means he must know all about the tawdry affair Lynda and Nick are conducting.

Meanwhile, Nick has hired a private eye to find his son, but he's always short on cash and the PI dangles details in front of him as a way to extort money from gullible Nick.

As expected, George has found out about his wife and Nick, so he beats the stuffing out of her in a surprising bit of gore for this miniseries, but one that sets the stage for lots of upcoming brutality in the next 20 or so years.  Lynda tries to warn Nick that George will come after him, claiming George "is a murderer."  Indeed, George races over to Nick's motel, but Nick is prepared for him.  In fact, Nick baits George and George lunges at him.  The two scuffle and Nick finally gets to show his real boxing talent.  Normal shows up and tells Nick that George is being supported by the Mafia, so Nick better leave town go as far as the ocean, "cross that ocean and don't come back for 10 years."  That's going to hurt his plans to find his son.  The people in the next room have called the police, so now the mob and the cops will be after Nick, still attracting trouble every time he blinks.

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 6

The brothers stepped into manhood in Part 5 of "Rich Man, Poor Man."  Nick Nolte, now a boxer, has become a father and Peter Strauss, caring for his invalid mother, is rising up the ranks at a department store, having graduated college at last.  Not doing quite as well is Susan Blakely, married to drunken Bill Bixby, with a child, though even her future had a hint of brightness peeking through.

Time is moving fast, as Part 6 finds us in 1954.  It's no wonder Peter Strauss is doing so well at the small-town department store.  When a shipment of "French scarves" does not arrive on time, he tells a panicked saleswoman, "I'll tell you what you do, tell them we're sold out and we're already re-ordering."  Wise, so wise.  Waiting for Peter in the TV section watching the news (voiced by George Gaynes, if anyone wants to know, though it's uncredited) about the Rosenberg electrocution is his former economics professor and friend Lawrence Pressman.  Peter blows off his invitation to picket Sing Sing because of a proposal he's turned into boss Ray Milland that he's anxious to hear about.  One might wonder if this is the moment where Peter's character finally tarnishes a bit, but let's be fair, he's never taken a stance on anything before because he's never had to.  He let others make most of his decisions (even the ones he thought were his), so to castigate him suddenly as an arch-capitalist does him an injustice.  It's simply the first time he's made a decision and it just so happens that he picked his own fortune over his friend's cause.

The proposal being discussed is for Ray Milland to build another store further in the suburbs, because Peter has amassed "demographic information" that says people will be moving out there.  Ray doesn't want to lay out the capital, even though Peter reminds him of the 25 times he's been right with an idea Ray didn't like.  And what if Ray says no?  Peter threatens to take the idea to someone else.  That's some of his father's spine, I think!

Things are not going so well for Nick Nolte, unhappily married to Talia Shire.  He complains she's "getting a big can...and I gotta look at it!"  Talia is particularly pissed when Nick gives their baby a snake for a present.

Doing very well is Susan Blakely, now a successful journalist.  Arriving home from Asia, she passes when her boss Craig Stevens asks her to cover the big new department store going up in her former hometown.  She wants something, "closer to home.  I've got to get reacquainted with my son, not to mention my husband."  Susan's welcome home present from hubby Bill Bixby is finding him with another woman (if not a young and uncredited Mary Crosby, then a lookalike).

So, Susan takes the job upstate to see Peter, who is being huffed at big time by Ray because of delays and zoning and whatnot, calling the whole thing "a $3 million mistake in judgment."  He surprises her by showing her that the complex has a gigantic theater he's obviously built with her old treading-the-board days, even if he doesn't realize it.  After snapping his photo, she begs him for help.  With what?  Wait and see.

Peter decides to solve his political zoning problems through good old Robert Reed, wearing an outfit that even Alice wouldn't bother to clean and iron: short-sleeve button-down shirt, shorts with a belt somewhere near his neck and high socks so large they have to be folder over to stay under his knees.  Fairy Godmother Robert agrees to help, informing Peter it will take $10K to bribe a state senator into approving the zoning.

Susan throws a very swanky party with all sorts of cliche New York types (not to mention her vamp friend from the previous episode) and Peter is invited because he happens to be in the city.  They pay a visit to her son's room and then to her studio (this has to be the world's largest small apartment, even though it's in her bedroom) to show him the proofs from the photo shoot she did with him.  Peter is worried about Susan, and I think it's because she uses way too many multi-syllabic words.  However, Susan says it's her marriage to Bill Bixby that isn't working.  "Are you talking about a divorce?" incredibly naive Peter asks her, as if he's encountering a foreign concept.  Both Susan and Bill want the divorce, but both also want custody of their son.  Peter agrees to hire detectives to track Bill and make a suitable case against him...before taking her in his arms and kissing her with the intention to do just what Bill is doing to some other woman.  "Wait," she says.  "Oh God, I've waited," he replies and they go back to it until hearing that Nick will be in town for a fight!

When Susan and Peter arrive at the fight, Nick seems to be very much on the losing end, but he eventually prevails.  "You going backstage?" Susan asks, using an odd word that makes it sound like they are going to see the Lunts or something.  He's going, she declines (remember, she has not seen him since the brief look they exchanged when he found her at Robert Reed's house a loooooong time ago).  The brothers are reunited for the first time since Nick was chased out of town.



"Long time, no see," Nick says boisterously when he sees Susan, which only they understand.  Later that evening, Susan tells Peter she will be at his hotel room the next afternoon, not bothering to check in at the desk!  Peter gives her the there's-no-other-girl-for-me speech and they kiss.

Susan comes home to find her son being taken on a stretcher to the hospital.  That's a miniseries special, heaven followed by hell, not that the miniseries invented soap opera twists, but they did take them to new heights.

Talia is FURIOUS that Nick plans to give Peter the $3K that was intended for his schooling back when Ed had to use it to bail him out of jail.  He had tried to return it in the last episode, but the family had moved and he didn't try to track them.  Once again, Talia gives a performance so annoying you can't wait for the moment Nick is somehow free of her.

Bill and Susan keep an all-night vigil at the hospital, waiting for news of their child.  When allowed into his room, it's Bill he wants, not even noticing Susan.  Bill and Susan have plenty of time to be honest with each other, and it's not discussion full of recrimination, interrupted only by the doctor telling them there's "no change" (as Susan puffs on a cigarette in the waiting room).

Nervous Nick shows up at Peter's hotel room to give him the money.  Peter had not actually heard the story of the $3K, so Nick fills him in (and any viewers late to the miniseries).  "I've had that thing on my back for six years and now I'm rid of it and rid of all you with it," he says gleefully.  That has to sting!  "You know what I think?  It's a stupid gesture," Peter informs him, trying to play peacemaker, offering Nick a partnership in...well...he doesn't quite say, but whatever comes their way.  "If you come in with me...there is nothing that can stop us," Peter offers, but Nick is furious and the discussion ends in an argument fueled by pride.  "Say hello to the old lady for me, will ya?" Nick says as he bounces out of Peter's life again.

When Nick returns home, with flowers no less, he finds Talia and the baby gone.  A note echoes what she said the night before, that "I cannot go on living with a crazy man who gives money to millionaires."  He borrows $500 from Normal Fell to chase his son to Chicago.

Because their son has made it through the worst, Bill has asked Susan for another try at their marriage, disappointing to Peter, who will have to continue pining for Susan.  "You are asking me to roll over and play dead," angry Peter says, trying to get her to see it his way.  As usual, the universe exists only in his worldview, which goes no further than two feet from his mind.

We're just about halfway there now and still the miniseries is gripping.  Yes, it plays as corny after nearly 40 years, but only because it was so endlessly imitated and because Shaw's plot twists are overly obvious.  But that's only a problem when the writing sags, which it rarely does.  Now that the three main characters are adults, it's engaging to see them with entire new sets of problems and choices.

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 5

Chapter 5 starts things fresh in "Rich Man, Poor Man."  Ed Asner has succumbed to his failures, having bailed Nick Nolte out of one last jam, pulling the rug out from Peter Strauss' dream in the process.  However, Ed is the failure of the past and Nick is the failure of the present.  "Rich Man, Poor Man" hinges on the future of the American dream and somehow, plucky Peter Strauss will come to represent that, good and bad.

It's now 1950 and prodigal son Nick is returning to his small hometown, but wife Talia Shire is not allowed to detrain with him.  "This ain't a social call," he tells her, though she's so far into wild overacting (her gum chewing would do a 1930s moll proud), that she isn't really paying attention anyway.  Also on the train with them is Normal Fell, Nick's boxing manager.  Didn't know Nick was a boxer?  Yeah, we kind of skipped that part, so Normal has some dialogue with a fellow train passenger to clear it all up.

When Nick arrives on his street, he finds the long-discussed supermarket has indeed put his family out of business and his house is actually nowhere to be found.  An unkindly neighbor who remembers Nick as "a little gangster" can't help.  "They just left, that's all I know," she says, before deciding to tell him that his pa, Ed Asner, offed himself.

Nick, who has played more scenes in the rain than a duck, is somewhat dumbstruck, but all is literally sunshine and roses for Peter, who is graduating from college and has been offered a "teaching fellowship" at Columbia.  There at graduation is the ever-weird Robert Reed, more fey than ever, asking about Susan.  He informs Peter that he tracks Susan and she's no longer an actress.  He takes delight in torturing these two, even though they have no idea they are being tortured.  "She's in the book, under her maiden name," he advises Peter should he want to go to NYC and see her.

Things are also going very well for Peter at Ray Milland's department store, where old Ray feels paternal to him and even gives him a fancy watch and a job offer, in that order.  "What would the job be?" Peter asks.  "Just what you've been doing, little bit of this little bit of that, only more so," Ray says, with is either the worst description of a retail job in television history or the best offer the CIA could give without having to be specific.  When Ray hears the only other offer Peter has is teaching, he launches into a tirade about progress and money that would make old Adam Smith come back to life.  It is also a speech that contains most of the nuggets adding up to so many of "Rich Man, Poor Man's" themes.

Ray calms down enough to inform Peter that he has "a new gimmick they've come up with to scare you...high cholesterol!"  It's 1950, remember, a time when people wrapped butter sticks in bacon.  So, he needs some help running the store, some help that comes with "zing" and freshness, but NOT a business school "snot."

When Peter tells his mother the news, Dorothy McGuire, who has turned into a sickly old lady in the three years since we last saw her, isn't impressed with the money Ray has offered or the diploma Peter shows her.  However, she may be going around the bend a little because she wishes Ed could see the diploma, and Peter has to remind her he's dead.  She feels since no body was ever discovered, "he's somewhere this minute laughing up his sleeve."  She's also gone all guilt-mother-from-hell on him.  When he says he's going to New York, she says, "don't worry about me, I'll just eat a nice can of beans of something."  She tells her son to remind his friend to "drive carefully...I don't know what'll happen to me if something happens to you."  Well, it seems she wouldn't bother with mourning, that's for sure.  It's a shame that the writing for this character has become downright bad because Mother Jordache has been one of the most consistently complex and interesting characters, with McGuire giving a fantastic performance.

Since he is going to New York City anyway, Peter decides to look up Susan.  She's living in Greenwich Village with now-husband and still-sloshed Bill Bixby and a baby.  Bill and Peter do not exactly hit it off, with Bill tossing nasty quips about "the Great American Dream" Peter's way, though Peter doesn't get too riled.

Susan has taken up photography, but has yet to sell a photo.  She long ago realized acting wasn't her thing, though she can still quote her beloved "As You Like It."  A very uncomfortable dinner follows, complete with a vamp girlfriend of Susan's and Bill's increasingly bad attitude.  Peter sleeps with the vamp, but leaves at 4am to get to his knew job, though she gets awfully crazy about it.  First she plays the lonely card and then hurls an ash tray at his head.

Drunken Bill couldn't be pulled from sleep and had an article due ("this month's rent"), so Susan finished it for him.  Actress, photographer, writer.  An argument ensues because Bill is jealous of Peter.  "You're having your name taken out of the telephone book!" he roars.  "Oh, really?" she replies.  "No, O'Reilly." Crickets.  The argument continues, but Bill manages to joke his way back into Susan's good graces.



Peter has been "working pretty hard" at the store, but still keeps in touch with his economics professor, Lawrence Pressman, a rather bland character until he invites Peter to attend a rally against killing the Rosenbergs.  That instantly makes him a lefty, which was not a good thing to be in 1950.

Peter is frustrated at his stagnating life (which is actually going pretty well) and more fits from his mother, and right before a big fight of Nick's, Talia goes into labor with their first child.  He packs her off to the hospital with Norman while Nick stays and fights.  Nick, still in his gloves, rushes to the hospital to find out he has a son.  "There ain't nothing in the world's gonna stop me now," he says.

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 4

Episode 3 of "Rich Man, Poor Man" was something of a reminder episode, a chance to catch up with the characters without too much happening.  Peter is still trying to work his way through college, Susan is in NYC trying to become an actress and Nick is trying to make a life with family in California, despite a quick affair with the household maid.

Drunken Nick wants to dance with Talia Shire, out with her rich boyfriend, but the rich kids beat him up badly and toss him into the water.  Talia chirps, "I wouldn't go home with him!" as she helps Nick out of the water and to her home since her dad is out of town.

In his little college town, Peter has an appointment with Robert Reed's pal Ray Milland, so important he has pictures of world leaders on his wall.  Department store magnate Ray gives him a job, though he's not happy about it because college kids haven't worked out well in the past.  "I expect an honest day's work.  Do that and you've got a job.  Fail and you're gone with the wind," Ray bellows.  Not only does he work, but he's on the track team and studies economics with vigor while being harassed by Kim Darby, Ray's daughter who has the hots for him.

During a study break to ski, Peter helps Kim, who fakes an injury to get his attention.  "It just kin of throbs all over," she says, trying to be flirtatious when coming off as just annoying.  When he takes her home, Ray doesn't recognize him at first, but soon realizes he's the one responsible for the store's wonderful window displays.  He's supportive of Peter, especially knowing that his daughter likes him.  That does not thrill Peter.  "What's wrong with her her?" his roommate asks.  "She's a nut, that's what's wrong with her," Peter moans.

Peter and his roommate come up with a business idea to start a ski lodge out of an abandoned building, but need $3000 to get it up and running.  Papa Ed Asner is reluctant to give him the seed money, but Mama Dorothy McGuire convinces him by saying, "I feel it.  It's our chance to have something.  I feel it in my bones."

While in NYC arranging or supplies, Peter decides to go see Susan's play, the one where she has one line, which happens to be the curtain line, delivered in just a slip.  "Tell her to bring a friend, a nympho, with money," his roommate tells him before sending him backstage for a long-delayed reunion.  She doesn't even notice him, racing into Bill Bixby's arms and then his apartment.  They are basically living in sin because his wife won't agree to a divorce.

Nick is arrested for statutory rape of Talia Shire, which brings scowling Ed out to California, with the $3000 it will cost to get him out of the scrape.  She's pregnant and claims Nick is the father.  Hmmmm, I wonder if that's the same $3000 Peter needed for his ski lodge idea.  Nick wonders how Talia knows the kid is his.  "Because I know," she says.  The charges are dropped if Nick will leave town, much to the delight of his social-climbing family members.  "I did it so the one member of the family who is worth a damn won't have to go through life with a jailbird brother around his neck," Ed says, saying the slate is now clear with them, "the last time I ever want to see or hear from you."  Nick yells after him that, "I'm gonna pay you back, Pa, every last scent, even if I have to jam it down your throat!"

A letter arrives from dad to Peter without the promised $3000.

Now we're cooking again!  After some very slow times, the plot is lurching back, with the brothers pitted against each other by circumstance, not even intentional hatred or disagreement.

How can Peter get the money?  He places a call to Kim Darby.

Nick leaves his family and his job, though not before the rich kids come after him again (although the rich kids look even older than Nick playing teenagers--this in the pre-Botox age).  When one of them insults Talia, Nick beats the hell out of him.

Not only did Nick and Peter have a need for the money, but so do Ed and Dorothy, as the long-planned supermarket is finally about to open, right next door to the bakery, certainly to finally put them out of business.  He comes home to an eviction notice (with two months warning) and Dorothy leaving their bedroom.  She's hopping mad that he bailed out Nick (referring to him as  "perfect stranger")  and wasted the $3000.  "I've got my price too.  $30 a week, but I want my back pay!  It's a bargain rate.  $30 a week for 20 years, I've figured it all out, it's $30,000.  You put $30,000 on the table and I'll talk to you, not before!" she screams at him.  He leaves, with Dorothy shouting at him.

Peter is explaining his business proposal to Ray and Kim when a call comes to Ray's house from his mother.  "I don't know where he is.  He's been gone all day," she says in a trance.  "This time, he's gone for good."  Indeed, what is the most notable failed American dream (remember, the big overall theme of "Rich Man, Poor Man) so far has reached its conclusion.  On a rainy night, Ed takes his rowboat out one last time.  Another one looks to be snuffed out when Talia shows up, in a drenching rain storm, having been tossed out by her father and having lost the baby, to follow Nick out of their small town.

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 3

At the end of Chapter 2, Peter Strauss was joyous as the news that his hard-bitten father was giving him money for college as his wastrel brother Nick Nolte was shipped off to family in California to avoid the rap for a fire he started after seeing his brother's girlfriend, Susan Blakely, in town robber baron Robert Reed's bed.

The story skips to California, 1947.  Nick is living with his father's brother, sister-in-law and children, all of them thoroughly bland and ridiculously bourgeois, which means they have a maid they don't need, quiet Irish lass Fionnula Flanagan.  Luckily for Nick, the family is going on vacation, leaving him in charge of the house and the gas station they run.  It's during down time at the station that Nick learns to box.

A bunch of rich teenagers come to get gas one day and Nick meets flirty Talia Shire.  The rest of the kids are obnoxious, so Nick lets the air out of a tire just to spite them.  Not only has he made a date with Talia, but Fionnula is hot after him, showing it first by making him a world-class meal, then showing up naked to share a bath with him.  One hell of a leap, no?  When the appointed hour to meet Talia arrives, Nick is hooked in Fionnula's arms, she being the one who talks about St. Sebastian, sending Nick to the encyclopedia to figure out that reference.

The ever-egalitarian Nick doesn't understand why Fionnula would want to be a maid, and "wait on my fat uncle," but she likes her life.  Things get more than a bit gooey with these two, who go riding on horseback to shoot bunnies and pick flowers, not to mention rehash the stories of their lives (well, mostly his).  She stops him from the former, saying, "you're bigger than he is and he can't fight back."  Another miniseries rule can be seen a mile away: when things are too good to be true, watch out!

Back in upstate New York, things are pretty much the same.  Peter is still playing delivery boy for his father while being worshipped by his mother.  Dorothy is full of complaints about her life and Ed growls with the same arguments.

Peter goes fishing on Robert Reed's land and is invited to lunch.  As always, Robert likes playing savior, getting Peter a job to help pay for college, and mentioning his new boss has some "nubile young daughters."  That brings the conversation around to Susan, though Robert doesn't reveal too much

Speaking of Susan, she's moved to New York City to become an actress.  Waiting in agent Steve Allen's office, she is introduced to colossal blowhard Bill Bixby.  But, before she can get to know him, she's called into Steve's office to read for a one-line part.  She is told to return later "with a bathing suit."  Bill is waiting to take her out to lunch, where he delights her with pompous stories.  A day of binge drinking by both is interrupted by Susan's line reading in the suit, which apparently gets her the part.  Champagne loosens her lips about her past, and Bill, claiming to be falling in love with her but acting as gay as all get out, delights in the details.  "I think I'm falling in love with you," he keeps saying.

Nick and Fionnula have continued their affair even with the return of Nick's family, though they are very quiet and careful about it.  However, his uncle is suspicious, grilling Nick with the threatening calm of an SS Agent, finally revealing that he heard the sounds coming from Fionnula's room.  "I want you to say you are sorry for the filthy thing that has taken place under my roof," his uncle rages.  The uncle threatens to have her deported, so "she will promise me anything I want," he says triumphantly.  The next morning, not only does Fionnula tell Nick "we are over," but also that she's going to finally give in and let her boss have his way with her.  Nick runs from the house in horror.

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 2

When we last left "Rich Man, Poor Man," Susan Blakely was getting on a bus for a ride that could ruin her relationship with Peter Strauss, such a good boy that he can't even fathom having sex with her.  His brother Nick Nolte easily could, and watching all of them is town buzzard Robert Reed, whose motives have yet to become apparent.  

Mama Dorothy McGuire has told Peter that he can have a suit for his birthday, but didn't run it by her husband, Ed Asner.  "People are very generous with my money," he scowls and hurls a book at her (it's only a paperback, but still!).  Dorothy chides him that she works just as hard as he does, behind the counter of their bakery, "eight hours a day, six days a week, 52 weeks a year."  But, her complaints are stopped dead in their tracks by his oafish brutality, which alternates between pure anger and nasty sarcasm.  By the end of an exceedingly well-acted scene, we find out at least one reason for Ed's ire.  Not that he admits it, but he's scared of what will happen when the plans for a large town supermarket come to fruition and puts all of the locals out of business.  

Susan has taken the bus to meet a man from the hospital, but he's not there when she arrives on the bus.  She's unsure of what to do, so when unctuous Robert Reed, the town big shot, drives up an offers to take her to a place where "they serve daiquiris," she accepts.  Cue the alcoholism?  This is the second time we've seen her loving the sauce, but no, not yet.  She gets hammered on them as Robert, decimating his Mike Brady image, asks her age.  She's eighteen and he feigns disappointment, saying, "I had always hoped to contribute to the delinquency of a minor before I go."  He may not know it, but Robert Reed is setting miniseries villains on their path.  Cut out the slave overseers and Hitler, I mean the smooth guys who charm everyone and then reveal themselves to be rats.  They will become far more over-the-top and obvious, but remember, "Rich Man, Poor Man" is only the beginning.  Think of Philip Casnoff in "North and South."  He is handsome, rich, endearing...at least on the surface and then turns into one hell of a reprobate.  

Since Susan is completely wasted, Robert takes her to his palatial home.  He may seem gayer than Liberace in a store full of sequins, but he's plays all man when he slips off a robe and gets into bed with Susan.  This is only 1976, so that's all we see, but I don't believe that to be entirely the fault of censors, because it leaves open the question of whether or not she wanted it too.  The cad then deposits cash in her purse while she slumbers.  That's a villainous trick if ever there was one.  Only after she gets home and basks in the glow of sex that she sees the cash, but doesn't object.  

When Nick leaves the bakery with a dirty cup, morose Dorothy tells Peter, "I don't know how two boys can be so different...when I found out I was pregnant with [Nick] I cried.  I just sat down and cried."  In her own way, she's as responsible for his inability to lead a good life as his oafish father.  

A friend of Nick's spots Susan getting in Robert's car, and he can't wait to tell Nick the news.  They hop the fence at the manse and sneak through the greenhouse to get to the main building, where they eventually see Robert naked making drinks.  "I wish that stupid brother of mine could..." Nick says, stopping that cruel sentence when an even uglier notion comes to mind.  He lights fires in the greenhouse because Peter is on "civil defense" that night and would have to respond to a fire alert.  The fire blazes out of control very quickly, interrupting an inane conversation between Robert and Susan.  Nick's friend catches fire and is badly burned.  Because Nick helps him, he's around long enough for Susan to see him from the window.  Robert wants to get Susan out quickly, via the back road.  "If you're worried about my reputation, it's already shot."  "Mine isn't," he retorts.  Yes, what will the boys at the bar think of him seducing a teenage female?  Nick drops his friend off callously, with big threats not to tell anyone they were there.  

As for Susan, she decides to brush off Robert, freaked by knowing Nick has seen her.  At home, Gloria has found her stash of cash and the note that went with it.  She knows Susan has to leave their small town.  

We know the miniseries maxim on bad luck: when things are at their worst, put on a smile, because they are about to get worse.  Peter is rejected by the local college (where Robert has a lot of pull, FYI).  Peter finally tracks down Susan, whom he hasn't seen since the night they didn't have sex for the first time, but she's emotionless because her mind is already in NYC.  She's put their shared dreams aside since taking up with a rich man for money.  "Maybe I just grew up," she says, though Peter only confesses his eternal love.  

Peter gets a teeny birthday party from his immediate family, though Ed is already drunk.  There wasn't enough money for the suit Dorothy wanted to buy him, so they settled for a shirt.  This too starts an argument, with Ed berating her for wishing they had more money.  "Can't we even pretend for one day that we're a family?  Why do we have to keep tearing at each other?" she asks through tears.  "Just one big happy family," Nick quips as Peter comforts his mother.  

Peter makes the arrangements for Nick to leave town and when he tells Ed, his father says something curious about his wife.  "Promise me you'll always take care of her, no matter what happens to me."  Peter is confused, so drunken Ed tells him the story of how he came to America: he killed an Englishman for his money.  Undaunted, Peter actually feels sorry for Ed and volunteers to take over bakery duty for him, but Ed calls it his "penance" for the two men he's killed, for dashing the hopes of his wife, all of Nicks problems and everything else, "the sins of the father" as he calls them.  "I'm sorry, I tried to do my best," he tells Peter to end the conversation.  

Remember, innocent Peter knows nothing of the true circumstances swirling around Nick's hasty escape from town.  Nick doesn't reveal anything either, muttering that he hit his father for all the time he got hit, non-specific and not believable either.  "Is it because of me?  The fight?  Is that why you're leaving?" he asks.  Now here comes one of those great moments of truth where a character has the power of the future in his hands, to make it or kill it.  Nick admits to setting the fire, but when Peter asks him why, he pauses.  Should he tell him about Susan?  He pauses, the tarnished side of him wanting to tell the truth, but the true good side of him saying merely, "beats me."  He's preserved Peter's future with that one little lie.  "Happy birthday, buddy boy," he chirps as his bus pulls away.  Dorothy shows up a moment too late to bid her son goodbye, but she's not really there for him.  She's there to tell Peter that Ed has decided to give him all of his savings for college.  

On the bus, tears fill Nick's eyes. 

Rich Man, Poor Man (1976) Chapter 1

NOTE: I will be posting notes about "this miniseries per episode rather than as a whole.  Hey, if TV can do it, so can I.

It's said that "Rich Man, Poor Man" is the first American miniseries.  Chronologically, that's not true, but in terms of what it did for the genre, it's hard to disagree.  "Rich Man, Poor Man" took Irwin Shaw's novel and put most of it on television, for over nine hours (it dropped one of the main characters and re-assigned her plots elsewhere).  It was a gigantic success, and one that definitely drew the lines for a whole new sub-genre of television.

As often happens in Hollywood, there was an immediate race to capitalize on its success, but that turned out to be good news!  Instead of cheap imitations, everyone worked hard with their projects, looking to be the next "Rich Man, Poor Man."  The books chosen for miniseries adaptation in the late 70s were almost always excellent choices.  We need look no further than "Roots" or "Centennial" as proof, but there are plenty of fantastic examples. 

"Rich Man, Poor Man" did not just decree that major novels were no longer too big for the small screen in the United States or that its audiences had larger attention spans than expected.  It actually set a whole lot of rules that would hold for the span of the network miniseries glory days.  Take, for example, the slumming movie star.  "Rich Man, Poor Man" has plenty of them (though they all turn in stellar work).  But, at the same time, it also took a chance on newer talent to fill the leads: Nick Nolte, Peter Strauss and Susan Blakely.  The latter two would remain fixtures of the genre and go on to great television careers, while the former went big-time Hollywood.  For the next decade, the miniseries wasn't always afraid to try unknowns, because you might just hit the next Nick or Peter on the way up.

"Rich Man, Poor Man" is also a long saga.  It's not a historical piece per se, not yet giving us the grandeur of the Civil War or World War II epics, but it does set down the patterns for multi-generational pieces.  It is also a grand romance piece.  It's a very serious romance story, but the great epic love-based miniseries, serious and laughable, would take cues from "Rich Man, Poor Man."

Just as a point of fact, "Rich Man, Poor Man" did not win the Emmy for...well, that's the problem.  There was a category for "Best Limited Series," but the nominations for "Rich Man, Poor Man" were not all in that category, spread over a variety of categories.  Just about every actor in the piece was nominated (only Ed Asner won), but across many categories.  Hollywood wasn't quite sure what to do with these pieces yet.  But, in the category of "Best Limited Series," "Rich Man, Poor Man" was up against one forgotten network piece and the rest were from PBS, including the winner, "Upstairs Downstairs."  It's hard to disagree with that outcome, but can you imagine a year in the 90s, 00s or 10s where so much greatness would even happen in one year?

Most striking to me is that almost 40 years later, "Rich Man, Poor Man" still holds up as towering entertainment.  That's hard to say for most network miniseries.  The genre had become so corrupted just 20 years later that it barely resembled even the palest copy of something as brave as "Rich Man, Poor Man."  Yes, the performances are a bit odd, but there's a reason for that: is this a TV series or a movie?  Which type of acting is required?  No one quite knew yet.  If you look to the British miniseries for advice, you go for the wildness that Ed Asner provides (though he's marvelous), but if you look at series TV for advice, you get the gentler performances of Strauss and Blakely (Nolte is in a world of his own, as usual).  So, that is forgiven.  The story, really very simple, still has great emotional pull and everything is so precise that it still feels important.  A miniseries this well done not need to drip history and costumes.  It just needs to grip with story and characters, which "Rich Man, Poor Man" does from the onset.

Just as an FYI, we're not discussing "Rich Man, Poor Man" Book 2 right now.  There's no reason to ruin the beauty of this piece with that ghastly garbage.

We begin with the celebrations of VE Day in Port Phillip, New York.  Note two things here already.  The war is already over, so this is not a story of military heroics, and we're in a tiny American town, not the big city.  Things may grow larger, but at heart, this is a small story.

While everyone celebrates outside with fireworks, yelling, singing and merriment, baker Ed Asner is singing the German national anthem as he prepares the bread.  "They can hear you clear out in the street," his disapproving wife Dorothy McGuire, clutching an American flag, chides him.  "Where do ya think ya are?" she asks, "Germany?"  "No, madame, hell," he replies and takes another swig from a bottle.

Nolte is watching the celebrations atop a football goal post, unimpressed and detached.

As for Peter's girlfriend Susan Blakely, she's almost as unbelievably sweet as he is.  We encounter her reading "Gone With the Wind" to maimed veterans, complete with different voices for the characters.  Of course, she is, it's the great American novel, or at least one of them.  Peter plays his bugle outside the window and begs her to come down, but duty first, she has to stay with the patients.  Don't worry, he'll play some patriotic music for the wounded.

At the town bonfire, Peter is asked by the whole population to play something, so he toots "America the Beautiful."  Nick sneers, "how corny can you get" and leaves with his friend, only to sneak into a movie theater to see a World War II picture, "Wake Island."  Nick gets in trouble there with some snarky comments, causing one man to tell him to shut up "until you earn a fighting man's right to talk."  This goads bad boy Nick to go even further, so the GI takes him into the alley to beat the hell out of him, but it's Nick who does the punishing.

In case you missed that Peter is good and Nick is bad, check out Peter's reaction to a rich kid who makes light of the fact that Peter has to be up at 5am to delivery baked goods.  "Get thee to a bunery," the kid jokes.  Peter looks serious as he walks over to him...and passes him, to thank the soda jerk on duty at the diner for letting them have an impromptu dance there.  Nick would have trashed the place.  Peter is darn pissed, but he only complains to Susan.  Wanna-be actress Susan wants them to move to NYC and get married.  Unfortunately, reality isn't quite the same.  All Susan can really hope for, as her nagging single mother Gloria Grahame (as usual, giving the least subtle of performances) reminds her, is a job at the town factory that employs nearly everyone.

The wee hours of the morning are hopping at the main household.  Ed leers at Dorothy on the bed, drunk, and when she gets religious, he cracks, "Jesus, Mary, Joseph and you.  Four saints, too crowded" and sleeps on the chair.  Nick and Peter still share a bed and when Nick gets in, he taunts Peter every way he can, but his suggestions that he should have long taken Susan is what annoys Peter most.  This leads to a physical fight where Nick overpowers Peter, but Ed walks in and decks Nick hard across the face, refusing to acknowledge Peter may have had anything to do with it (he just gets a sweet touch to the cheek).  And in just these few scenes, we have the entire family dynamic.

Well, not quite.  Ed is far more complex than just being a drunken bully.  When he hears Peter has applied to college, he tells him he can't go because they have no money, but Peter says he's applied for scholarships, so Ed turns it around to make Peter seem ungrateful for having what he does.  "What about the sins of the fathers?  You believe that kids have to pay for what their fathers did?" he asks in a very ugly way.  Peter says he doesn't believe it.  "You better hope it's not true," Ed says with a guffaw.  This incredibly rich character has only had a few lines in a few scenes, and yet we're unable to figure him out so far.  Does he love his family?  Part of it?  His job?  His adopted country?  We have only conflicting evidence so far.  Dorothy even says as much, that something has actually happened to turn him "mean," because when she met him, he was quite the opposite.

The miniseries has its first absolutely classic scene when Ed is called to school because Nick has gotten in trouble with his French teacher.  Nick has made a cartoon of her where she says, "je suis tres chaud."  Ed, playing a humble immigrant, meekly says he doesn't understand forcing her to translate, adding, "in very bad French."  "I don't understand, I thought my son was here to learn to write good French," Ed replies.  The teacher misses the sarcasm and insults Ed, basically calling him stupid.  Ed plays every line for laughs, turning each point against the teacher with a deadpan humor she doesn't get at all, making her angrier and angrier.  By the end of the scene, Ed has turned it all against her and even slapped her as well.  He issues a threat to her not to take out this episode on his son.  Here's yet another layer to him: for a man who has nothing but contempt for his family, he's certainly leaped to Nick's defense in a bountiful way, yet when Nick thanks him, Ed turns dark again and snaps, "you don't owe me a damn thing."  This only brings more questions about this man's motives.  Given scenes like this, is it any wonder Ed Asner won an Emmy?

As if the black wounded soldier who offers Susan $800 to get started as an actress, but underlines it with an invitation to a meal with him that is too much of a quid pro quo for her to understand isn't enough, Susan has to contend with Nick.  Peter has a gig playing trumpet in a club and she goes to watch and adore.  Nick shows up and flirts with her, but it's Peter she necks with in the car.  She only wants him.  Nick's temper is a topic of conversation for them, because the whole town has seen his bad behavior.  "He's really weird.  I don't know what's wrong with him," Peter notes.  Susan does, because it's the same reason she's antsy: she hates small-town life and it's driving her (and Nick) batty.  She has a scheme to move to Greenwich Village with Peter and start a life, but he's old-fashioned.  He wants college and marriage first, even though she says, "we can skip the marriage part," awfully progressive for 1945.

The car in which they are making out belongs to supremely creepy Robert Reed, who basically owns and runs everything in town.  "What are you doing in my car?" he asks.  "We're discussing post-war priorities," Peter sasses, to which Robert laughs and adds, "ask a stupid question, get a foolish answer" while leering at Susan.  He doesn't mind the kids fooling around in his car, he's just come out for the booze in the glove compartment and even shares it with them, also offering them a ride home when they are through.

The car ride home is a doozy, with Robert turning every line into a double entendre, but there's also something sad and pathetic about him.  He offers Peter help getting into college and offers Susan a host of wickedness.  Susan is already in a snit because Peter has forgotten tonight was supposed to be their first time (Gloria is away and Susan has dinner all planned).  "This isn't something you do lightly," Peter says.  "This isn't something you do at all," Susan growls.

Time passes with Susan and Peter not speaking, though of course he calls once she's stopped holding the phone waiting, so she gets on the bus to the rendezvous with the black soldier.

The first episode has done what it set out to do: introduce us to the main characters, but not in a perfunctory way.  We learn so much about them, but it's what we don't learn (Ed's secrets, what makes Nick so rebellious, why Dorothy settled for Ed, Susan's yearnings) that will make us excited for the second episode.  No gasping cliffhangers, not yet.  Only sensational writing and actors who make it matter.

Kane & Abel (1985)

Credit my mother for "Kane & Abel."  Okay, not the miniseries, not even the book upon which it's based.  But, we can credit her with my love of Jeffrey Archer novels.  The infamous British convict/MP wrote a series of books in the 70s and 80s that may not been as popular as those written by Harold Robbins and Sidney Sheldon, the acmes of male trash novel writers, but he was a saga writer extraordinaire.  My mother has always had discerning reading taste and I'm thrilled that she turned me onto Jeffrey Archer as a child instead of, say, Judith Krantz (Robbins and Sheldon were must-reads).  When the miniseries of "Kane & Abel" was aired in 1985, it was probably the most excited I had ever been for a miniseries because I had actually read the book.  I remember that excitement all these years later.  Unfortunately, Jeffrey Archer's output yielded precious little in the way of miniseries, whereas we couldn't get rid of Judith Krantz for over a decade!  But thanks Mom, for the recommendations.  She was all over "Schindler's List" and "Sophie's Choice" from the moment they hit stores, so this is a lady who knows her stuff.

Usually.

There was that Margaret Truman Daniels phase...

Anyway, rewatching "Kane & Abel" is somewhat disappointing.  It's lacking any claw-like sense of humor, mainly because the two leads are such dour actors, but the miniseries is almost too faithful to the book, which is actually Archer's fault.  Always more concerned with stories that favored financial deals, revenge and such, he lacks sex.  Sheldon and Robbins had sex a-plenty, and though it's the lowest way to grip one's attention, five hours without it can seem like an awfully long time.  There is only so much meat in watching two aging men battle over finances.  An hour chopped out of the proceedings wouldn't hurt the story, but would help the pacing, which has a tendency to turn glacial when it could be a lot merrier and even a little campy.

Since this is a saga, the logical place to start is the beginning of the 20th Century, where many a saga begins.  "Kane & Abel" starts in Poland in 1901.  A young boy is walking through the forest when he hears blood-curdling screams, only to come upon a woman giving birth...right there up against a tree.  I'm not sure where the kid learned to figure out how a person is dead, but he pulls up one of her eyelids to be sure while a live baby wails.

Halfway around the world on the same day in Boston, another woman is giving birth, but she's in a clean hospital, tended to by doctors and nurses. 

The Polish baby is taken home to his finder's family while the Boston baby goes home to a life of luxury, the Kane family, and a guaranteed spot at a top-notch private school.  Unfortunately for the Polish baby, it's discovered that he has only one nipple, which causes Polish Papa to vent that's "the child was given to its mother by a man with bad luck."  Those of you who want to get all Biblical can question why the baby not born to the Kane family is the one with the disfiguring mark, but on your own time. 

Both boys are baptized, the Boston baby in an opulent church in Boston and the Polish baby by the grace of Baron Christopher Cazenove, who looks rather upset to hear the baby, called "as ugly as a cabbage" by his adopted father, when he hears the baby has only one nipples.  Only minutes in, we can start putting pieces together.

Fast forward ten years.  Not you, the movie.  The Boston baby has grown into an educated son of wealthy Harry Groener, but the Polish baby is living in poverty.  However, since he's so smart, Baron Christopher wants to take him home to his castle to help his dimwit son.  The boy refuses to go without his adopted sister, and Baron Christopher is willing to take her on as part of the kitchen staff. 

So, the Polish kid ends up paired with a rather haughty Baron-in-training, walking through the castle looking at deceased relatives and deciding that "one day we will fight for Poland" (that's not a good thing, since the Polish army was way beyond its winning days by then), while the Boston kid chimes in with the equation for figuring out how much a cargo boat weighs during one of his father's banking meetings.  He's so smart that when he comes down with measles, he wants a second opinion.  Dangnabit, those pesky measles mean that the Boston kid cannot sail home with his father, who is going on the most luxurious boat ever to sail the water.  Do you need to take a guess which boat that would be?  Second decade of the Twentieth Century, big, fast, unsinkable boat?  Okay, fine, it's the Titanic.  "I don't expect they'd let you steer the Titanic on its maiden voyage anyway," Harry jokes with his son, who probably would have done a better job than Captain Smith and company.  A rather undue burden is put on the son when the ship goes down, as his mother asks him to be strong for her sake.  He's only 10 years old (11 in a few days)!  He may be obnoxiously precocious, but he's still just 10! 

Baron Christopher spends meals with boys drilling them in history, though only the adopted kid can answer the questions.  The Baron thinks that if the coming war everyone is talking about happens, he knows Poland will be "a battlefield, but this time, God willing, we will emerge from it an independent country once again," by fighting on the Russian side.  Tsar Nicholas II has promised Polish freedom if they help, but the adopted boy wonders aloud if the Tsar will keep his promise and Baron Christopher laughs.  History will prove that neither Baron Christopher nor Tsar Nicholas will have long to laugh.

World War I is on, but in Boston, it's all just talk because the Americans are a long way from entering it.  Harry has been dead for a few years, and it's about time the Kane matron, Lisa Banes, met a new man, David Dukes (who gets a lot further with Lisa than he does in 400 hours of the Wouk miniseries).  "He's the most eligible bachelor to come to Boston in years," a common friend tells them with introductions. 

Poland, of course, is very much in the war.  In fact, Baron Christopher is so worried that he's sending the boys off to safety, but they are taken by German soldiers and smacked by the butts of their guns.  Baron-no-longer-in-training is killed by the blow.  The adoptee has to tell Baron Christopher and his sister what happened, the only voice of reason telling them, with the best Polish accent in the movie, "we will survive.  We will survive!" 

As soon as Lisa falls in love with David, the problems start.  He's off to England to fight the war and her pissy little son resents his mere presence. 

By some very strange magic, it's still World War I, but the Polish adoptee has grown up completely to become Peter Strauss, playing yet another variation of "Rich Man, Poor Man."  It's not his fault that he enters the movie right as Baron Christopher, now in a big beard, is dying and croaking out a will leaving everything to his son, whom we knew was Peter all the way back from the nipple incident.  You can't compete with that sort of ham acting.  "No!  No!" is about all Peter can do, with an accent, no less.  Once Baron Christopher breathes his last, Peter, playing a teenager, but very wrinkled, is now in charge of the cadre of Polish survivors in the basement of the mansion.  The Germans allow him to bury Baron Christopher, with the sound of bombs going off around them.  The end is near for them. 

Just as surprising is the growth spurt in Boston, where our second hero has become Sam Neill, innocently playing ice hockey without a care in the world.  Oh, and even though he's only a "teenager," he gives financial advice to people that makes them rich and lends out his math notes.  "I'm sick, can't you see I'm sick," he tells his friend when asked why he's not at his mother's wedding (we're still at the hockey rink).  Apparently David is now a war hero, but Sam doesn't like him.  The moment his mother put him in charge of the family, her happiness with another man was doomed by her overly smart son.

"We will not die here!  That I promise you," Peter tells his fellow captives, his wig barely fitting his head, as the Germans ride out of the castle, the Russians right behind them in chase.  The Russians are not ideal new captors because their revolution causes them to hate aristocrats and technically Peter is now a Count.  When the Russians try to rape Peter's sister, he rushes them, but gets knocked out.  Since the two of them are unconscious, the Russians leave them and take everyone else as prisoners.  Since Peter has yet to experience any happiness in life, it makes sense that his sister dies right here.  The Russians hustle the Polish prisoners off to Siberia, and one of Peter's fellow prisoners notices the silver bracelet he wears, the only thing Count Christopher had to give up upon death.  On the train, while everyone sleeps, the other prisoner attempts to strangle Peter with what looks like dental floss in order to get the bracelet.  Not only does the Russian guard with a gun do nothing, but none of Peter's compatriots do either.  What is this, professional wrestling?  A fight ensues and Peter is forced to kill the man, stabbing him while everyone gapes.  As the guard finally raises his gun to shoot Peter, the latter comes up with this brilliant line: "Maybe you should ask your superiors how many slaves you are allowed to lose in one night."  It may sound stupid, but hell, it works!  Remember that the next time someone has a gun pointed at you. 

All is well in America.  Sam and his pal Reed Birney have to deal with Reed's father, who owns a large bank in New York City.  Reed is something of a playboy, but Sam has his head on straight.  He has a long-term plan to merge the Birney bank with his father's, to create "the biggest bank on the East Coast."  "That's quite a dream.  I hope you achieve it...I can't think of anything that would please me more," Reed's father says.  Yes, we get it.  Both of our heroes are fatherless, always searching for a father figure. 

It's now 1921 and Peter is trudging across ice in Siberia, real ice, not the kind Sam plays hockey on.  Any prisoner who falls on the ice gets shot.  That's hardly fair, considering they all have their arms tied behind their backs and bad shoes.  Also, there is a mean man in charge of them, spewing such morale-boosters as "anyone else want to die?  Do it now.  You will all die anyway."  He has his eyes on Peter, whom he tells "you'll be next" before knocking him to the ice.  What human misery has Peter NOT suffered? 

Sam is still worried about David.  His lawyer tells him that David has no claim to any of his money, but he does have access to Mom's $500K, which is about to come in handy as David has some scheme going that Sam doesn't like.  Up against Peter's life, this seems petty, but it also seems that David is cheating on his mother, who is pregnant.  When David professes his love to Lisa, she answers back, "do you?" since she's just read an anonymous letter discussing his infidelity.  He's smooth, pretending he doesn't care about "anything but us," including those papers she's signed giving him the cash.  He suggests opening a bottle of wine and relaxing.  Sure, given the pregnant gal some vino!  Before they even get there, his mistress calls, which doesn't thrill Lisa. 

Peter is down to his natural hair now and looking very handsome, if still way too old.  He's planned a big escape, but his partner is too afraid, so Peter has to do it alone (while maintaining an accent).  His friend gives him a coat with money and a map sewn inside that will get him to Turkey.  Peter tries to pay with his bracelet, but his friend notes, "I have no need for emblems of royalty here."  Can I use this moment to pause and ask how the hell Peter still has the trinket?  After all he's been through, living in a concentration camp, he still has a shiny silver bracelet?  If the Russians hadn't taken it from him, wouldn't a fellow prisoner have done it while he slept?  Does this not strike anyone else as odd?  The escape involves a kitchen truck, hiding under trains and generally avoiding all Russians with guns.  He manages to get on a train leaving Siberia, but he doesn't have a ticket.  He's also Polish on a train full of Russians, but this is a miniseries, so naturally everyone speaks Slavic-sounding English.  He meets a woman on the train who helps him out of the scrape.  Why does she help him?  "I had a nephew who was studying in the priesthood.  He died in one of the camps," so she sympathizes with the lonely Polish ragamuffin. 

Before you can say transfer in Moscow to Odessa and then to freedom, Peter is in Constantinople fondling an orange, but finds his Russia money is worthless in Turkey.  So, he simply steals the orange and runs.  About 12 merchants run after him, leaving their stalls open.  Couldn't they now be robbed worse?  Another one of those details apparently only I notice.  The punishment for stealing is getting a hand chopped off by a big fat man in a fez.  Peter's arm (the one with the bracelet) is tied to the chopping block, but a diplomat saves him and takes him to the Polish embassy.  The ambassador wants to send him to America, for reasons he doesn't really explain, though Peter wants to go back to Poland and fight.  For what?  "Funny thing about us Poles.  Over the centuries, the barbarians tried to destroy us, but we know where home is," the ambassador says, out of nowhere.  Peter vows to return to Poland someday, in that earnest way Peter Strauss does so well, and we know he means it.

In the boring plot, Sam, trying his best to maintain a Boston accent, has managed to make sure David can't enter into the business deal that would have milked his mother dry, though he's not yet 21 and has no direct control over any money.  He may look 40, but he's not 21 yet.  His father's business partner Richard Anderson is surprised at how well Sam can maneuver.  Lisa has done some checking up on her husband too, hiring a private detective to prove David is having an affair.  Lisa suffers an "episode" in the detective's office and is rushed to the hospital.  The doctor's face says it all: Lisa is dead.  "They've been trying to reach your stepfather, do you know where he is?" the doctor asks.  When David comes home, Sam is standing in the hallway with the grim news.  Sam is so angry he starts to strangle David, but he's stopped by Reed.  Sam decrees that David leave the house and never come back.  If he does, Sam will investigate his business dealings.  That leaves David no choice but to hit the road.  "I'll get even with you, little rich boy.  You just keep waiting and watching and see if I don't," David spits on the way out.  Sam doesn't react well, threatening to kill him if he even tries.  Something tells me we haven't seen the last of David. 

On the boat to America, Peter can't help but notice the pretty ladies crammed into third class with him.  His mate tells him to go after her, that there are five days left on the voyage and he intends to get himself some babes.  "What can you do with five women?" Peter asks.  Yup, he's a virgin.  Well, to be fair, he hasn't had time for women, what with being born in the forest, adopted by a Baron, hidden by Germans and then Russians.  Apparently, he bores the poor woman with his tales of woe and then won't dance with her, either because he doesn't know how or "because you're a Baron," she taunts.  He claims he made it all up to impress her, but she knows he's royalty.  How?  "Because I'm a little bit afraid of you."  I'm not sure I follow, but let's play along and see where this goes.  Peter  is so innocent he doesn't even understand when she's making a play for him, but a kiss sends them to one of the covered lifeboats.  "Are you ashamed?" she asks him after the deed is done.  What kind of question is that?  The scene gets weirder when she professes her love for him and he for her.  Huh?  They just boffed, that's all.  So far, said hussy doesn't even have a name!  And she's not going to get one either, because Peter's friend Vyto Ruginis has decreed that they all have to take American names.

At Harvard, Sam and his pals approach his car to find a policeman writing a ticket.  Sam tries to flash his name, but the officer is unimpressed.  Then Ron Silver jumps in as a lawyer named Thaddeus Cohen, who spews all sorts of gibberish to confuse the cop while praising his Irish roots.  The officer finds it amusing, and tells Ron, "Cohen, you say?  It should be CoHAN with that line of blarney," and lets Sam off without a ticket.  Ron and Sam don't know each other officially, but it was Ron's father who helped Sam get the dirt on David a few years back.  A lawyer and a friend are found, but still not a hint of an exciting plot.

Two years later, Peter is working as a restaurant manager at the Plaza Hotel.  One day he's serving imperious Fred Gwynne and his obnoxious gal pal Sheree Wilson, who is peeved to be sitting near the bathroom on top of having a room without a view.  Fred knows Peter by name, much to his gal pal's surprise, but Fred says, "you'd be surprised what I know."  Peter, laying on the accent thick, calls his broker every time he hears good business tips in the restaurant. 

Having just graduated from Harvard, Sam is celebrating at the Plaza with Reed, Reed's father and sister (Jill Eikenberry) and faithful bank trustee Richard Anderson.  Richard officially invites Sam to be a bank director, on the path to chairman.  As Sam is accepting, Peter spills a bit of coffee and Sam remarks, "I didn't know the Plaza required their waiters to wear manacles."  Jill coos, "wouldn't I like to have something like that!" since she's been after him for ages.  But, it doesn't work.

At the same lunch, Fred has been moved to a better table by Peter, who also has his suite moved.  Each knows about the other.  Fred has studied Peter's history and Peter has learned that Fred owns a bunch of hotels that are losing money because, as Peter sees it, Fred is never there.  The manager of his Chicago hotel "up and left on me without so much as a tootle-ooh!" Fred says, though Peter knows that already.  A shrewd negotiator, Peter rebuffs Fred's offer of a job and "$30 a week" with "$40 and 5% of the increase in profits after I've arrived."  Fred screams that none of his managers get paid like that.  "I won't tell them if you don't," Peter says, learning the American dream awfully fast.  Sheree quips, "I think you better take the Baron before his price goes up."  Peter tells Vyto of his new position and notes that American hotels are "castles."  He promises to send for Vyto when he's a "hotel magnate."  Oh, and the girl Peter did on the boat?  She happens to live in Chicago.

As Peter and Vyto are walking from the hotel, Sam and company are getting in their cars and the two tip their hats to each other.  Peter says he has no idea who Sam is, "but he's just been made director of some bank...I'd say both of us had a very big day."  Our heroes have intersected but once.  Where will they meet again? 

Fred pays a visit to his Chicago hotel to find the staff hates Peter.  The manager wants to fire Peter, but Fred says, "I can clean up my own mess."  Peter tells Fred what has been going on at the hotel, the amount of theft is staggering.  "Just what the blue blazes do you expect me to do about this?" Fred asks Peter, who says the top management should be fired.  Fred refuses to fire the pilfering manager because he's just made Peter Head Manager and he can do it. 

At Sam's bank during the late 20s, Sam is suggesting the bank move its money around because something isn't right.  They argue, but a big client needs to see Sam immediately.  Not the dowager widow he was expecting, it's Veronica Hamel, having bewitched Sam very easily with her intelligence and knowledge, not to mention their obvious attraction. 

Peter is running Fred's hotel better than before, so efficient and "something of a miracle," according to a lawyer, who suggests that Peter buy the stock of a family member who wants to unload it. The price is $100K and Peter is $70K short, which he asks the bank for.  This financial transaction makes Peter a partner.  He chooses to celebrate with Sheree and ends up getting her into bed with candle light and all the trappings.  But, after it's over, she laughs at him, not believing the Baron crap and bemoaning his lack of experience.  Fred is not dismayed.  "Son, we're going places," he tells Peter.

But the places aren't what anyone was expecting.  Panic hits Wall Street.  Sam had the sense to pull out of stocks, seeing what was about to happen and thus saves his fortune, and most of the family bank,  from ruin.  Things are worse for Fred, who has sold his hotels and other holdings for stock, which is now worthless.  "They are only good for hotel toilet paper," Fred quips.  The banks that owns Fred's empire is Sam's bank.  Fred says that if he ever gets back on top, he'll destroy Sam.  Now we're finally starting to get some actual plotting!  Our heroes are on opposite sides of a situation, thinking the other is very much in the wrong.  Peter tries to head off the foreclosure of the hotels by appealing to Sam directly, but Sam refuses, saying he'll only talk to Fred.  That won't be an option since Fred has jumped from a window and killed himself.  Peter now owns 75% of the hotel chain, for what that's worth. 

Peter makes it his life's work to find the bankers who caused Fred to jump. 

Sam and Veronica have fallen in love.  Nothing brings two people together like a banker chasing a mortgagee.  Sam and Peter meet again.  Sam sees the bracelet and thinks they had met somewhere, but doesn't know where.  Peter is there to beg for investments for the hotels rather than foreclosure.  The two are at loggerheads, but Peter needs a chance to prove he can turn around the hotels, but that would take someone wilth a few million dollars to support, but not Sam's bank.  Peter storms out of the room telling him to "think about me because as long as I'm alive, I'm going to see that you and your stinking bank pay for that.  You go to hell!" 

Chicago, 1930.  Peter's hotel is on fire.  Who should be there with the insurance company looking to stick it to the bank that holds the mortgage?  David Dukes, of course!  The assessment reveals "a total loss," and a man has confessed to torching the place because he had been fired.  David reveals who he is to Peter, though of course blaming Sam for "killing my wife and baby," an interesting twist on the truth.  We have a partnership!  Since the bank won't give Peter the money to rebuild, he takes a wacky risk, asking his main competitor (Paul Harding) for the money.  Paul laughs at that one, but Peter has a plan, saying "let your competition make money for you; better than letting me steal business at your expense."  Peter has it all worked out, and though "the sheer audacity of your suggestion" interests Paul, he doesn't actually say whether he's going to help or not.  No matter, because on the way out, Peter bumps into his de-virginizer from the boat to America (Alberta Watson), working into Paul's hotel.  She has a first name now and she's very happy to see the Baron.  "So many times I forgot to call you, even in New York," Paul says, thinking he's being smooth.  "But you didn't," she chides. 

The two discuss their history since seeing each other in their broken English (rather than speaking in perfect Polish).  Alberta has had it rough, having worked up to waitress while Peter is establishing an empire.  Proving the adage that you never forget the first, Peter is re-hooked on her.  Speaking of, Jill is still pining for Sam, who has eyes only for Veronica.

The money problem in Chicago is solved, but anonymously.  The deal is fantastic for Peter, who can't lose no matter what happens, but the one caveat is that anonymity must be maintained, due to a potential "conflict of interest," the very phrase that came up during Peter's meeting with rival hotel owner Paul.  Naturally, Peter assumes it's Paul, but if Peter tries to even search for the donor, the deal is off.  Peter has his Big Speech, and boy does he go for it.  Yelling and screaming in excitement and then almost crying when he thinks of Fred not being there, it's the kind of thing he does very well.  He then calls Sam to rub it in his face, with David sitting in on the conversation.

We hit a pure cheese lowlight when Sam takes Veronica on vacation to England.  Lazing under the trees in the countryside, all Sam can talk about is business, though Veronica tries to focus him on her by literally uttering every sentence in a sarcastic tone or turning the answer to a question into a pun.  The two have zilch in the way of chemistry.  Anyway, the bright warm sun turns to rain in an instant (this is England) and the two are forced to seek refuge under a blanket next to the car.  "We've been in England for two weeks and this is the first time we've been under the same blanket," vixen Veronica says. 

At lunch, Peter shows Alberta his plans for the new hotel, but they are interrupted by the always-cheeky Sheree, who drawls that Peter should come down to Dallas and see the family home, but he declines, saying he doesn't think his soon-to-be wife Alberta would like that (since he hasn't proposed, that comes as a surprise to everyone there).  He also decides to chuck the old company name and call it "Baron Hotels."  I'm sure Barron Hilton wasn't on anyone's mind thinking that up!  Then he has to actually propose marriage to Alberta, "since we traded our virginities on the boat," but he pushes his business acumen over actual love in trying to convince her. 

In England, Sam and Veronica have to get married because their car has broken down and there is only one room left at the local inn.  Even Veronica and her caustic sentence delivery find that one a bit much, and she also reminds unromantic Sam that "the Episcopal Church requires all sorts of documents and a waiting period," but Sam "bets his entire banking career" that donating money for a new church roof will result in a "special dispensation."  Good, now they can sleep in the same room. 

"You will always be at home at a Baron Hotel and when you check in, tell them you were here on the day it all began and that you are a friend of...the Baron himself," Peter says to an adoring crowd upon opening his Chicago hotel, praising David for a possible Congressional run and announcing his wife's pregnancy.  In that order, mind you.  For a romance miniseries, the men are complete duds when it comes to the women in their lives! 

Peter has a daughter, whom he names for his sister and Sam loses the Chairman position at the bank.  The reason he lost is not because of anything he did, but because Reed has become such a drunk and a fool that he's a liability.  There is no treatment because alcoholism is only a cover for Hodgkin's Disease and only three months to live.  He has told no one, not his father or even Sam.  I didn't see that one coming.  I thought he was finally going to come out, since his performance has been getting gayer by the scene, but sadly, the truth is worse.  Sit down for some pathos, people, because Reed has it ready: "You're lucky if you have one friend.  I have two," he says to Sam and Veronica.  Something tells me his death is going to be very painful...for us!

By 1938, Peter is going to build a hotel in honor of his daughter in NYC, taking her, but leaving fur-clad Alberta to worry that, "I have a big rival for his affection."  Vyto assumes it's the daughter, but Alberta says, "it's the hotels" and walks off glumly.  "Oh, hell," Vyto moans.  Yes, I agree.  Here we go again, with a dumb plot about a wife ignored for a job considered more important.  Zzzzzzz

Sam and lawyer Ron Silver see that Peter and David have become friendly.  "The Congressman might be guilty of tax evasion," Ron hints, and Sam is thrilled that he can nail David.  Veronica wants him to let it all go, and then the more immediate problem of dead Reed's dying father.  Through heavy gasping breaths, he tells Sam he wants him to be chairman of the bank.  Sam tries to comfort Jill, who refuses any true tenderness, still angry at him for not marrying her.  Get over it!  Frankly, his life seems boring as hell, so you dodged a bullet. 

Boring Wife Syndrome has certainly hit Alberta, who is forced to say some of the worst dialogue in the movie.  Saying they should separate, she has expected clunkers like, "how long since we have made love?" and "you are married to your hotels."  She feels that she is "always failing" trying to play the glamorous wife of such an important man.  Peter plays the scene annoyed, but then again, he's had to play this scene for a decade, going all the way back to Susan Blakely's drunk-from-boredom scenes in "Rich Man, Poor Man."  Alberta has made her mind up, and off Peter goes.  Neither of them seem that upset.  Peter could easily turn around and go back inside to Alberta, but he doesn't. 

Boring Banking Syndrome is now hitting me.  Sam makes a play to take over Reed's father's bank, just as the dying man wished, but the current Chairman isn't giving up so easily, not to mention other board members who are sneaky New York bankers.  Sam has an emergency meeting called in order to nab the big seat on the board.  The main competitors each give a dull speech about why he should head the bank (not that banking is exciting, but the script makes it seem even less so).  The vote goes to Sam, as expected, since the other guy is so clearly a smarmy twit.  He has to move the family to...oh, right, we haven't known until this very moments that Sam and Veronica have two kids, nice to meet you, kids...to New York City, where both kids are initially unhappy.  Sam trots out that old war horse line of "at least we'll be together," and it seems to work.  This, from a man even more dedicated to his job than Peter? 

Peter's New York hotel is a gigantic success in 1941, where he's holding a benefit for Poland, trounced two years and three weeks previously.  David interrupts the affair to make sure Peter knows the merger of his banks will be approved by the government, and Peter is eager to grab some stock in order to blunt Sam's plans.  David also asks for $30K to make some illegal payments to keep the hotels running smoothly.  Peter isn't thrilled, but David will never change.

Pearl Harbor happens and then World War II ends.  Literally, that quickly.  I swear.  There is not even a small scene tucked between the raid in Hawaii and the Times Square announcement!  This is an interesting twist for a miniseries, isn't it?  We're skipping World War II entirely!  Peter doesn't fly to Poland to become a grunt in the army just to protect his beloved homeland from being squashed by the Nazis.  Sam doesn't make special trips to the White House to fund the governments war machine.  Those are things the miniseries movement has taught us to expect about beloved World War II, one of its favorite topics (to be fair, "Kane & Abel" also lacks a slumming Hollywood legend, so it's not always predictable). 

They pulled a fast one on us!  Both Sam and Peter come home war heroes, but without any fuss or any explanation of what they did in the war.  Apparently it's enough to know they participated (they would have been 40 when America entered the war, so we can assume they weren't belly down in a ditch).

Thank the Gods of Television for Jill Eikenberry.  She can always be counted on to add her special brand of campy finesse to any project.  This time around, she comes to tell Sam that she is selling her stock in the bank.  But, she's a mess.  Pining for Sam has upset her, though she says she’s over it, and the stress of losing Sam to Veronica, her brother to disease and her father to death has her feeling like "I don't give a damn about the bank anymore.  So, I sold my stock."  "To whom?" Sam wants to know.  "What does it matter?  I had suitors lined up to buy it.  You should have called," she replies.  Bravo, Jill, you just helped pull us out of quicksand with your little plot-twisting eye-bugging, hand-wringing scene.  Ron finds out for Sam that Peter has bought it and only 2% more stock will get him a seat on the board.  There is only one outside investor left, and we know it's going to be a battle between Sam and Peter somewhere down the road.  For now, Peter is just trying to sabotage bank dealings whenever he can. 

In the middle of one particularly hair-raising financial game, the bank suggests Sam play nice with Peter, who has his own problems.  David is bleeding him try and skimming lots of money from Peter, and he's losing his patience.  Sam calls Peter to grovel, but Peter holds firm in his desire to "get enough of your bank's stock so I can walk in there and throw you out myself!  Not today, not tomorrow.  I want you to have time to worry about what I'm going to do," he says, accusing him of killing Fred Gwynne and Sam's own mother.  "You want to talk?  Here is my answer," Peter bellows and hangs up the phone.  No wonder we couldn't show the men in World War II.  Their battle is going to be bigger!  Sam sends Ron on a mission to find out any dirt on Peter and David while Peter sends a scared flunky to Chicago to cover any tracks they may have left in their ascent. 

By 1953, Peter is opening a hotel in Warsaw, a longtime dream of his, though he tells a reporter that the happiness of his daughter is always his most important project.  Really?  We've seen her less than five times since she was born (now she's a grown woman, Kate McNeil).  Kate has a very good business sense.  She suggests that Peter take over the retail outlets in the hotels and brand them, which sounds good to Peter.  "Incidentally, what about men?" Peter asks on the trip to Poland.  "I like them," Kate replies.  Papa Peter worries that, "they are a fast crowd, those Harvard men."  A young woman of a new generation, she informs her father without hesitation that she's still a virgin.  No doubt that's only because there are no lifeboats around like her parents had. 

The proceedings are interrupted by a "touring Paris" montage for Peter and Kate, complete with a French chanson.  The sights, the shopping, the food, it's all here.  However, it's more than a lot creepy because they look like lovers rather than father and daughter.  He even gives her jewelry in a bouquet of flowers standing outside Notre Dame.

As for Sam's son (Thomas Byrd), he clearly does not want to follow in his father's footsteps.  "My fondest hope has always been that someday you'll take over here," Sam says to Thomas as a command rather than a wistful dream, especially since Thomas is not at all interested in banking. 

In Poland, Peter keeps promising Kate "the most beautiful castle in the world," but when they get to his childhood home, they find only a ruin.  It typically takes centuries for a place to get this ruined, but I guess two world wars and such have done it faster.  The graves of the Baron and his son are still there, even the ramshackle wooden crosses Peter made.  However, his sister's cross has fallen apart and he searches frantically for the pieces. 

Dejected from what he's seen, Peter himself seems a shell, until a phone call comes that cheers him up amazingly: there's been a plane crash and 17 people are dead!  That gets the old guy going again.  It's the airline that Sam's bank has been propping up and Peter owns a huge amount of stock in it.  So, he tells Vyto to sell the stock, which will make it worthless.  The run will give Sam "his own personal crash!" Peter triumphantly tells Vyto to end the second episode.

The final portion begins in 1953, only days after we last left the movie.  Peter has caused the panic at the bank he hoped, and once the bank has lost millions (and Sam personally) to prop it up, Peter starts to buy it back again, "making a killing."  Thankfully, Ron is on hand to remind everyone that this is fraud, and they can't wait to whack Peter over the head with it at an SEC hearing. 

At the hearing, Peter blames Sam and the bank directly, not exactly admitting that he did it for revenge, but Ron certainly knows he did it.  Peter's excuse to the SEC was to buy back the stock because he felt bad for the other investors.  "So, I used my own money, through Whitewood, that is a very small personal investment company, because I did not want to use Baron Hotels, because I did not want to endanger them any further," he pleads, "and therefore, we were able to save Atlantic International from destruction." 

"He won, case closed," Ron tells Sam after the proceedings.  Ron advises Sam to "call of the vendetta," but Sam can't.  "An eye for an eye," he says to Ron, who finishes the sentence with, "until you both end up blind." 

By 1955, Thomas is still wishy-washy about what he wants to do.  He admits feeling sorry for his father.  "It's almost as though he never had a choice.  Do not stop at jail, go directly to bank," he says, which is an amusing line, but whitewashes his father's backstory, considering the man focused his energies on the bank even as a child!  Mother Veronica's answer is "maybe you need the strong hand of a good woman...I'll start looking."  Just who do you think that will be?

That who is a new graduate of Radcliffe going to work at Bloomingdale's rather than taking a job with Peter immediately.  "I need to know what it's like working on the floor dealing with customers," she says, knowing that she will have that job dealing with the hotel retail chain when she's ready.  Kate does get an apartment, though.  She's not totally without her father's influence.  David calls Peter, begging from a seedy hotel room for $10K, one last time.  "You were an embarrassment...even the party hacks couldn't stomach you any longer," Peter chides him, saying one more time that he's way outlived his usefulness.  However, David isn't quite finished yet, as he threatens Peter with a "three inch" book of all the deals they have made over the year.  "You have a book, donate it to library," Peter snaps, since he knows David is too much of a coward to go down with him. 

Kate is working at the glove counter at Bloomingdale's under a fake name.  Thomas has come every day to the counter, but not for the hussy who runs it, rather for Kate.  He's bought gloves for more women than he knows in the hopes of asking her out.  To get rid of him when the manager needs her, she agrees to meet him at The Blue Angel, an awfully peppy mixed-race club for 1955.  Chatterbox Thomas doesn't stop talking long enough to realize that when he mentions his last name, Kate visibly shudders.  But, since he doesn't want to be part of the family business, giving her the worst lines about how he's a pirate planning a mutiny against going into the family business.  These two are so vapid that the late-in-the-game love plot creaks.  "There's another man?" Thomas asks when Kate doesn't invite him into the fake apartment she's had the cab drop them off at so he doesn't know she's really rich.  "Kind of," she says with irony he doesn't question.  He goes to kiss her, and she allows it, though "no hands" are allowed.  She's into him, of course, but there is that pesky family vendetta. 

Thomas tries to nab Kate at work, but having just left, he follows her in a cab to her real apartment.  He's angry that she's lied to him for weeks about where she lives, so she has to confess her real name.  She gives him the "it just didn't seem important" speech because she's fallen in love with him and that's all that really matters.  Coincidentally, that very night, he was planning on proposing and she was planning on telling him the truth.  Those twin admissions seem to right everything, and a kiss seals the deal. 

Eating ice cream in bed later, they joke about how they will break the news to their fathers.  Thomas naively suggests that perhaps when the fathers see how in love the kiddies are, they won't care.  "What astonishes me most is that you don't see the unsuitability of this," is Sam's response.  Veronica plays witness to their fight because "I don't want to clean up the blood later."  Sam, though awfully calm, tells Thomas that if he marries Kate, he's out of the family, out of the money.  "You don't know what a relief that is to me, Dad," Thomas chirps, determined to do what he wants.  He kisses Veronica goodbye and exits. 

Then we have to do the same thing again, but with Kate and Peter.  Kate says she's getting married first, to lower that boom, without telling Peter who the man actually is.  When she finally does get around to the guy's name, Peter explodes.  This is a much better scene than the previous one because Peter goes for some fun overacting where Sam insisted on underplaying it.  "I want you to use your common sense," Peter says, trying to sweet-talk his daughter, but then it turns violent when she admits to having slept with Thomas.  He slaps her and disowns her.  "I never want to see your face again," he hisses.  "I love you, Papa," Kate says before beating a retreat.  "Without her, what the hell is it all for?" Vyto asks Peter, not really needing an answer. 

With an umbrella, two suitcases and a bit of money, the lovers go off to San Francisco. 

The feud goes on, with Sam convinced that Peter is still trying to get a seat on his board and that the way to thwart it is to prove his connection to David's shady deals. 

In all of television history, I think "Kane & Abel" wins the award for the worst "I'm pregnant" line.  Kate and Thomas are standing in front of a building she wants to buy, but which they can't afford, but she's not worried.  "That's your department," she says.  "It's just you and me, baby," Thomas says delightedly.  "Oh, I forgot to mention..." Kate replies in a sing-song voice.  Are you kidding?  Playing it coy is one thing, but that's just downright stupid. 

The lovers are dire, but there is still the vendetta going, which isn't all that interesting either.  Ron has located David and Sam intends to extort the secrets from David, ironic considering he was Sam's first enemy.  But, as he tells Ron, as if it's a surprise this late in the story, "I'm in a fight for my life!" 
 
Kate's dress shop is a huge success, even drawing her mother-in-law.  They actually get along.  She's there on a peacemaking mission, but it seems neither father is willing to accept the marriage.  "You must never blame yourselves or each other," Veronica says.  Neither kid has the brain power to be that deep!  The scene ends with someone off-camera calling, "Mrs. Kane" and Veronica turns around.  "No, I think she means me," Kate says and Veronica gives one of the most insincere smiles of the decade.  I watched it a few times.  It's priceless.

The years are very slowly ticking by.  We're up to 1958 in some out-of-the-way dive with "Never on Sunday" playing in the background (who picked that of all songs?).  It's here Ron tracks down gray-haired mess David.  David may be far gone, but he's a negotiator still, turning down the initial $10K from Ron. 

Then it's suddenly 1960 and Peter is talking about Senator Kennedy, how the Irish and the Polish are very similar.  He's angling for an Ambassador post.  In the middle of the conversation, Vyto flashes a picture of Peter's grandson.  "Sometimes you are too smart for your own good," he says, to which Vyto responds, "better than being too dumb."  Good point!  He won't see the kids and when Veronica tells Sam their son is in town, he talks only about his books.  He does ask about the baby.  "Can I tell them you'd like to see them?" Veronica asks him.  "I can't," he says. 

Thomas and Kate are arguing in their second store in Beverly Hills, which is just starting.  Kate has a plan to open up stores all over the world, but Thomas is worried she is "trying to compete with" her father.  They are each jealous of each other, but still very much in love and full of annoyingly playful dialogue. 

On a plane, a toothy Senator congratulates Peter on his upcoming Ambassadorship, which is not yet official, and asks an interesting question: when Peter is off in Warsaw, who will run his empire?  "I'm not sure," he says honestly, but there will be no Ambassadorship.  Right off the plane, reporters are there with all of David's information.  Seventeen counts of bribery in seventeen states.  David has made an immunity deal and Vyto finds out that Ron's law firm was behind the deal.  Peter isn't afraid yet, because he has two options.  The first is to get to David and tell him that the information he sold went to Sam, which David doesn't know.  The other is to find a way to get 2% more of the bank stock so "I can throw him the hell out of there," meaning Sam.  Peter also wants to know if Vyto has told Kate, and he says no, that Peter should be the one to do that. 

Speaking of Kate, and I hate to do that, because whenever we go to her and company, they are so sleep-inducing.  While at lunch with her hubby and son, Thomas gives her a present of gloves (the cute way they met) with the key to their new NYC store in it.  A reporter interrupts their lunch to tell her of her father's troubles, and she wants to run to him, but Thomas stops her.  "I don't care what your father's done...but if he needs you, he's got to call and ask you," he insists.  Wow, playing hard to get is so hot, Thomas.  And, like a good 60s wife, she actually listens.

Peter's lawyer is dispatched to David in prison, where David still thinks Ron was acting on behalf of Peter.  He's defiant, but the lawyer tells him the truth, that Ron was acting on Sam's behalf.  It's a great speech the lawyer gets, and David all but has a stroke hearing it, even lurching at the lawyer in horror.  Just as the trial against Peter is beginning, word comes that David has hung himself, so Peter ends up with probation and a fine. 

Sam is listening to the television report when he gets a call...from Peter!  He's calling to gloat that "I know own 8% of the bank's stock!"  This gets him a seat on the board, "unless I hear that you have resigned.  You stole an Ambassadorship from me...I intend to take your bank!"  Peter is delivers this channeling any episode of "Dynasty" where Joan Collins raided any property of John Forsythe's. 

The shareholders have a meeting at the bank, where Sam tells the board of Peter's threat.  Sam thinks he still has control of the room, but everyone's body language says otherwise.  He's then told by one of the younger board members that it's "not your bank, Mr. Chairman" and that they are tired of supporting the ridiculous vendetta (a gold star goes to anyone who can remember what the hell started the vendetta by this late in the movie).  Basically, Sam is out, forced into retirement instead of facing the humiliation of a vote, which he would not win.  He signs the paper and walks from the room very slowly. 

That can probably be attributed to the heart attack he's in the middle of suffering.  He manages, clutching his chest, to walk all the way through the office until his secretary goes hysterical finding his crumpled body.  Her wild ranting get help and the doctor comes with pills.  Looking like death, he Veronica to get his son.  Peter's only reaction is to tell the bank that he will sell them back their stock.  He does inquire about Sam's heart, but without much excitement.

Though Sam looks terrible, he's really only in his early 60s, because it's now only 1962.  Kate is opening a new store in New York City and Vyto is on his way, but stops to invite Peter.  Vyto reels off a bitter speech, about the 14th he's said with the same information.  However, Sam has agreed to see his son and daughter-in-law.  Being an invalid doesn't give him much choice, and it also subjects him to a long scene with Veronica where they discuss their history.  Actually, Veronica is one of the better things about the miniseries, so she manages to make it work.

Veronica dashes off to Kate's store, where "Mack the Knife" is being played at the gala opening.  Without Veronica knowing, Sam has slipped out of bed and taken a cab to the store, watching with pride across the street.  Guess who also had the same idea?  They finally spot each other, only feet away and look at each other.  Peter tips his hat and walks away.  That's it?  For five hours, we've watched the two of them wage war, but when they meet for the last time, it's just a hat tip? 

Kate and Timothy close down the party to go see Sam.  Timothy introduces them without realizing what Kate knew the minute she walked in the room: Sam is dead.  He's in his suit in a chair, so Veronica probably realizes what he did, but she keeps silent and then does that thing that only happens on TV: she closes his eyelids. 

Sam's death comes with a shock for Peter.  After all these years, he's sent a letter telling him that the original $2M he received to start what would become his empire did not come from his competitor, but from Sam himself.  We all knew that, but after all these years, Peter had apparently never figured it out.  "He considered me a good investment," the letter says, which has Peter laughing, "he's a banker to the end!"  Of course then he breaks into sobs.  "We could even have been friends," Peter says, though he's still alive and still with a great head of hair. 

At Sam's huge church funeral, Sam and Vyto are there, sitting in the back, as we would expect by now.  As the family exits the church, Kate sees her father and calls to him, though he turns away...for a second!  Come on you didn't think he was going to get away without a reconciliation scene.  An American miniseries would never allow it.  Remember, Sam WANTED to, but died.  Peter HAS to, if for no other reason than to wrap his grandson in his arms as the music swells.

That leaves only one detail for 1966: the opening of a hotel in Poland.  Peter is now dead, so Kate has to do it, with her son, who sports his grandfather's bracelet.  Now, I give the movie credit for using stock footage of what looks to be a very Communist crowd, but the situation does seem off, no?  A big Western capitalist hotel chain in Warsaw? 

Historial reality is the least of "Kane & Abel's" problems.  What reads in paper as a pulse-racing tear through 50 years of two bitter but lavishly successful men is very two-dimensional on television.  Peter Strauss gives it all he has, but his role is the more exciting of the two anyway.  Sam Neill, usually a highlight of anything he does, falls into the background so much that the central vendetta of the story seems completely forgettable.  Toss in a bunch of supporting characters even more transparent and we are left with very little. 

However, as I said, "Kane & Abel" got my beloved Jeffrey Archer to television, and for that, it will always retain a place in my heart.  A small one.  And if I watch it again, probably an even smaller one.