In the history of American cults, Jim Jones and the People's Temple tragedy are unlikely ever to be forgotten, despite the decades that have passed since everyone drank the Kool-Aid. The true story is so outlandish that it's ideal for a screen representation. The atrocities speak for themselves, but one thing made Guyana stand out above all else: Jim Jones. A maniac, insane, drug-addicted, power-mad egotist, Jim Jones was so forceful a personality that he duped thousands. However, in order for this to work as a miniseries, it needs a strong leading man, a problem because, especially in the later years, Jim would merely sit on his throne and bark orders into a microphone, dynamism be damned. Luckily, Powers Boothe is on hand (in an Emmy-winning performance) to all but channel Jim Jones. His performance is what makes this movie so fascinating. If not for him, he would almost seem like fiction, and bland fiction at that. The writing is merely functional, but the characterization of Jim Jones so strong, it off-sets any problems. Let's face it, cults themselves are all about brainwashing, which in itself is not inherently dramatic as its too internal and psychological, but a pill-popping sex fiend who thinks he is God IS the stuff to propel a miniseries.
True to genre form, the film starts at the end, with Jim Jones telling everyone to drink the juice as he's shot, the "enemy" on the approach.
PSYCH! It was a "loyalty test." No one has been shot and the juice is just juice. But, it proves how much of a hold Jim Jones (Powers Boothe) has over his followers. It's close to the end in 1978 and Representative Leo Ryan (Ned Beatty) is on his way to Guyana to ascertain exactly what's happening down in Guyana.
Even as a 10-year old child in 1941, Jim was a bully and a religious zealot. He's in charge of leading the funeral for a pet, with only other children watching. His sermon goes on so long that the other kids get fidgety, but he's not afraid to smack them with a stick to keep them in line. Toting around a Bible, he tells other kids they are going to hell. The only voice of reason against Jim's fundamentalism is his father, Jim Jones, Sr. (Ed Lauter), who tells him all he's going to get for egging on the other kids is a beating. Mama Lynette (Diane Ladd) is more practical, wanting her lazy husband to go back to work. Jim's only solace is with Mrs. Kennedy (Colleen Dewhurst), the woman responsible for teaching Jim her version of the Good Book. "Get out of my way, you Psalm-singin' little creep," Jim Sr. tells the boy as his mother plots their escape.
Eight years later, Jim is fully grown (and ready to be played for maximum bang by Powers Boothe). Working at a hospital, he meets Marcy (Veronica Cartwright), a nurse. I don't know that his tactic is exactly foolproof, because he spews more religion than love, but she's hooked.
Jim has a way of turning even the best moments into religious lunacy. He's getting a hair cut when a black child walks in for one. The owner refuses to cut his hair and Jim is furious. Okay, so far, so good, he's not racist. But, he blows it by then damning the owner to hell and spouting off.
He marries Marcy and then is invited to run a church where membership is dwindling. At first, he's depressed at the lack of turnout, but he is hell bent on getting youth involved in the church. He even goes after the town's prostitutes, and it works. Hooker Rosalind Cash believes in him instantly and wants to go to church, but she worries about how the others will look at her. He tells her to come anyway and she remains fiercely loyal to him, staying all the way through the end in Guyana. Depressed pet shop owner Randy Quaid decides to come to church just to see how the whites will react to the blacks, but at least he's there. . The church elders aren't thrilled with the mixing and goons even throw a dead dog through the window. He's fired by the bigots, and decides never again to work for a church with "small minded me with no vision!"
So, he does what any preacher without a church would do--he goes to the ghetto and starts praying on the rubble. He finds an abandoned synagogue and turns it into "The People's Temple." Again, so far, so good. He's a bit nutsy in his religious fervor, but he wants people of all shapes, sizes and colors. His specialty is ministering to the so-called lost puppies, overwhelming them with kindness and earning their undying (oops, bad word choice) loyalty.
As Jim struggles to make a go of it, he visits Father Divine (James Earl Jones), who may actually believe he's God. He asks Father Divine what to do about the feelings he's having for some of the female parishioners. Basically, celebrate it and help them bring it out. "Mary wasn't a virgin," Father Divine notes.
A medley of all the good Jim does wanders a breakneck speed as a hymn is sung. The man sure as hell seems a saint at this point, ministering to the poor and downtrodden, worried about each and every parishioner with such passion. Heck, even I could forgive some overzealous behavior since he's doing so well. His wife tells him to delegate and his response is, "does God delegate?" Ah, that seems like a crack in the plaster. Does he think he's God now? He brings some old-time tent revival shenanigans to his services, healing the sick, though they are actually just his loyal friends in disguise. Starting to believe he's God, he feels he has the right to sleep around. When is wife sees him with a young girl, he says he "has to be all things to be all people." That's a nice excuse that covers just about anything possible. It's an all-encompassing tent of free space for him to do whatever the hell he wants. It seems that any young woman who walks into a room where he's sitting ends up having sex with him.
Jim is named to the city's Human Rights Commission, which gives him the power force the mixing of the races, such as a cute scene where Jim rams his whole congregation into a movie theater flashing his credentials and cash.
He takes in a drug addict to prove he can cure him by holding him in the bed, where it looks a little more touchy-feely than doctor/patient. He also starts to use drugs himself. Hidden behind sunglasses most of the time, Jim has officially turned the corner on the way to Nutsville.
By 1965, things are booming at The People's Temple so much that they can move into fancier digs and Randy Quaid can propose to and marry Meg Foster. Randy is unusually sanguine about Jim's role in his wife's life. He's simply willing to accept it. As for where all the money is coming from, it's from the members. All of the senior citizens sign over their welfare checks or anything else they have.
After having saved Brad Dourif from a life of drugs, Jim makes the moves on his girlfriend Diana Scarwid in the forest using some honey-coated phrases that prove only that he's horny. He also still has Brad in his bed and under his thrall. This last fact has Diana being one of the first to question Jim's methods. "He has special needs," Brad says, after Rosalind tells her sins in the Bible don't apply to people like Jim who is spreading a special message (his sperm, mostly, because the rest of the message is getting increasingly muddled). Diana convinces Brad to escape with her, but Jim finds them. "I saved him and I will not lose him to you, to drugs or to anything else," Jim declares. There is one too many of the letter I in that sentence and not enough about religion. Jim insists that Diana stay in the room while he and Brad get it on.
His speeches are also more about himself than anything. "It wasn't God that brought you here," he tells a packed crowd, "it was Jim Jones." He says this before revealing tableaux of lynching and welfare and scary film clips of the atomic bomb. In essence, he's scaring his followers into staying in line. He's theatrical, show biz, flash and dazzle. He's also the father of Meg's baby, as opposed to her husband Randy. Every member is his personal plaything.
Within a few years, Jim has taken his People's Temple country-wide, busing everyone this way and that and playing to gigantic tabernacles and halls. Linda Haynes is sent to Geneva to deposit hoards of cash in a Swiss bank and Randy is sent to San Francisco to find a permanent (and huge) base there.
In 1971, Jim decides to open up in Guyana. "Bring plenty of money," he tells Randy. He buys 3000 acres there and then tells the government that they need special protection. In other words, heavy artillery. The government official can hardly say no the way Linda is silently flirting with him. She's learned from the master, and after she's done with him, he'll allow all of Jim's needs.
Super-rich Brenda Vaccaro shows up to see if there is anything Jim can do for her mother, dying of cancer. Jim snaps that the doctor's assessment that she's beyond help, "is a medical myth" and mom is brought in on a gurney during one of his over-the-top prayer services. Mom is a big watcher of Jim on TV, so she's ready to believe. In a bit of outrageous theatrics, he pulls the cancer out of her, although to anyone paying attention, it's only a piece of raw meet that was in the palm of his hand, the oldest card trick in the world! But, Brenda believes in him and Brenda happily joins the flock of women who belong to him sexually.
Mayor Mosconi selects Jim as his Housing Commissioner because he preaches to be a friend to everyone, white and black, rich and poor, gay and straight. During a service, a lackey of Jim's finds LeVar Burton sleeping and he's brought into the aisle to be slapped in public. LeVar argues that he was up all night painting the nursery, at Jim's insistence, but Jim says that was only a small thing, that he needs to devote himself fully. Okay, now they are just bullies. The next time LeVar falls asleep, he's flogged. "This is worse than the Klan, for God's sake," his father says. Oh, and by now everyone in the congregation is calling him Dad.
LeVar's father goes to Rep Ned Beatty with his fears, but Ned is skeptical. After all, Jim is the Housing Commissioner, but he decides to check into everything, including bank accounts. Jim decides to turn this on his congregation. "Who is my Judas?" he asks the congregation. LeVar's mother, deep into Jim's teachings, doesn't even realize it's her husband, but to teach the family a lesson, LeVar is locked in his painting shed with a lit cigarette and blown up (though he survives, with nary a scratch). With investigations closing in, it's time to move to Jonestown, Guyana. A spirited version of "Down by the Riverside," excites people so much that they can't say no. Once again, theatrics have won the day.
LeVar does not want to go to Guyana, especially since he's met a new girl. His mother is upset because her husband has left. "The family has never been apart," she says, the last vestige of her old life still alive in there somewhere. But, she leaves without LeVar.
Guyana certainly looks like paradise, but the crops are going to fail because Jim has driven the natives from the land instead of listening to them. "I will make it happen here with God's help," he barks at the government official who is trying to help. His ego has grown so large that he can't be bothered listening to anyone.
Indeed LeVar does go to Guyana, with his new wife Irene Cara in tow. Upon arriving, everyone gives up all passports and travel documents. No one seems to find that strange. LeVar finds it strange and he and his wife are not being housed together, but those are the rules. Jim keeps all of his hens together without any other roosters to get in the way.
Jim's nightly new broadcasts are a mixture of rambling paranoia and no-nonsense instructions. Richard and Irene do not fit in well. Jim summons Irene. He drugs her and has his way with her, pissing off LeVar, but LeVar has little choice as Jim outlaws marriage. His reasoning is beyond wacky: that marriages outside of the church are made of mismatched people and have to be destroyed. LeVar stands up and objects, so Jim proclaims him a homosexual, which is why his wife came to Jim in the first place (remember, she was summoned and drugged). Spewing all sorts of anti-gay rhetoric, he works the congregation into a dither enough to put LeVar in a small box for a few days. He's not judge and jury. There's only one step left.
From San Francisco, Randy calls to tell Jim he's off the housing commission and that he should return to the states to answer the charges against him. Naturally, Jim refuses, knowing that's he's guilty and will be arrested. "Is Jim as out of control as he sounds on the radio?" Randy asks when he arrives in Guyana? His wife says it's actually worse. They decide they have to take their son and leave. Randy tries his best to reason with Jim as Ned Beatty widens his investigation, but Jim has a fit, going through every level of melodrama to defend his position. Randy wants to take his son back to the US and Jim will not let that happen to "my son." He's manipulated so many minds, the kids follow whatever he wants. Randy and his wife decide to leave. Since his wife Meg is being sent to Brazil to deposit more illegal cash, and they decide not to go back. He calls Ned and begs for his help in order to get his son out of there. He even asks Ned to go to Guyana to see for himself. Jim spins this to the faithful as the CIA spending spies to kill him.
When Brenda's mother dies, she realizes she's been had. Not only did he not cure her mother, but he's taken her family and money from her. However, LeVar and Brenda do not add up to much. Ned, his staff, Diana, Meg and Randy arrive in Jonestown with reporters, but Jim's minions will allow only the Congressman and his aide, though Diana and Brenda's husband somehow gets to go too. They are greeted by a very chipper Veronica, who takes them to his throne. Brenda launches an attack that Ned can hear, but Jim sweeps her away, saying that she has simply lost her faith. Veronica shows Ned and his aide around, but of course only the parts that are complete safe to report on. The whole commune is fed a gigantic meal, something they have never had so far. "I must admit, Mr. Jones, I expected to come down and see a hell hole," and says that instead he found a wonderful place. For crying out loud, Jim tosses in a chorus of kids to sing.
Some of Jim's goons see LeVar making moves to perhaps attempt an escape, so they "stash him in the jungle." Then there is Brad, who encounters Diana. He believes that as the cult doctor, he has saved lives and will never leave. He tells her to stop living in the past and forget him.
Ned does ask Jim about the financial irregularities and sexual offenses. Jim has excuses to cover them all. Jim says he slept with only one woman other than Veronica, and it resulted in his son (Randy's son, but Ned doesn't know that). The way he delivers the speech makes one thing that not only is he acting just the way Ned will appreciate, but that he even believes his own lives by now. Ned isn't really buying it and neither is his assistant, who says they need to leave immediately. Ned tells the whole commune that anyone wanting to leave can do so the next day with him.
Only a few people actually take Ned up on his offer. Jim is worried about the lies they will spread and his head of security wants to stop them. "It's all over, it's all over. I've been betrayed...ask everyone to come to the pavilion, I have to talk to them," he cries to Veronica. Kool-Aid time! "Sounds like Dad wants us to have another one of his loyalty tests," LeVar's mother says and everyone arrives like sheep. To hammer in what's about to happen, the movie shows us hobbling old people and infants being brought.
Jim gets one last speech to the flock. "If we can't live in peace, then let's die in peace," he rails to the cheering crowd. He says that the Congressman is going to be shot (though saying that he didn't ask anyone to do it--of course not, he's never to blame). Suicide is merely a revolution. When someone disagrees, he says he would rather choose his own time of death, rather than live in torment. He's got an answer for everything, no matter how nonsensical it sounds.
At the airstrip, everyone is killed, the Congressmen included. A cameraman filmed it until getting shot, but the camera kept rolling.
In Jonestown, the juice is given to everyone. People who try to refuse are forced. The bodies pile up, but Jim continues to ramble through his microphone, saying death is better than living with what is to come. Only LeVar and his brother run into the forest. Randy and Jean arrive at the airstrip, see the dead bodies and are themselves killed. Linda tries to run away with the money, but she's shot too. With everyone dead, it's down to Brad, Veronica and Jim. And yet Jim still pontificates, only now to hundreds of dead bodies. Finally he too dies.
Airing this miniseries in 1980 was taking a risk. After all, it has been only two years since the deaths in Jonestown and the details were still fresh in everyone's minds. So, is this sordid calculation? Perhaps. But, it's also riveting storytelling, with Powers Boothe so eerily channeling Jim Jones that one begins to think perhaps Jim Jones lived on a bit longer to inhibit Powers Boothe and make sure his message wasn't completely dead.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Captains and the Kings (1976)
If you want, you can look at "Captains and the Kings" as a very thinly-veiled miniseries about the Kennedys, but that's undermining the quality of the piece. It makes it sound cheap and tawdry, like the actual Kennedy miniseries (all 403 of them). Sure, the hero is an Irish immigrant who scrapes his way to untold riches and...well, you know the rest. "Captain and the Kings" is a terrific homage to the American dream, both sides of it, and owes plenty to other giants of industry like Rockefeller and Carnegie. Its central character, Joseph Armagh, is the embodiment of both sides, a great hero with great flaws. Expertly written and free enough of the clutter that would have schmaltzed this up if it had been produced a decade later (hell, even half a decade later), "Captain and the Kings" is a true classic of the genre, as American as they come in sincerity and opulence, two other sides of the American dream.
Though "Rich Man, Poor Man" pre-dated "Captains and the Kings" by about seven months and thus earns the distinction of being the groundbreaking miniseries, the one that started it all, I would say that "Captain and the Kings" is actually a better cornerstone. "Rich Man, Poor Man" certainly set up the future of the romance miniseries, but its scope is rather small, staying tight on its three lead characters. "Captain and the Kings" is history and adventure, a fore running to the decade-spawning and character-driven epics to follow in the coming twenty years or so. It also foreshadows the seedier side of the miniseries genre, the Sidney Sheldon and Judith Krantz sagas, full of greed and lust, which are a whole lot of fun. Therefore, "Captains and the Kings" is far more comprehensive an effort than "Richard Man, Poor Man" even if it's been more forgotten over time.
All good epics start with a tragedy, giving the hero something to make up for his whole life long. It's 1857, New York harbor and a ship of Irish immigrants is waiting to get in. A young boy and his two siblings are on board with their mother, who promptly dies after five minutes. Priest John Carradine tells the young boy that the ship is being sent back to Ireland, and he'll have none of that, this plucky smart youth. He tosses his siblings overboard with a life preserver.
The city's homeless feed them and put them on a train to find their father. They show up at the address they remember, with a sign outside that says "Irish Allowed." Grumpy frumpy Ann Southern runs the place, milking the Irish accent and a cane for all they are worth, but she has more bad news for the kids: Dad is dead too. The youth decides that he can no longer be a child and support his siblings. He deposits them in a convent run by Sister Celeste Holm. He tells his siblings to lose their Irish accents, to become Americans. He then goes off to work in a coal mine, doing backbreaking labor during the day and studying at night. The kid isn't stupid, cunning enough to realize that Ray Bolger runs the town and all of its crime, offering his services.
Four years later, our boy has matured into Richard Jordan, still carrying illegal goods for Ray Bolger, playing his few scenes to the back of the balcony. Ray can't imagine what Richard does with his free time and books. "I'm the secret lover of a lady librarian," he says. He gets his books from rich Joanna Pettet, on whom he has a crush. He tells a priest he doesn't covet her, he "adores her" and intends to someday live her lifestyle.
Joanna may be rich, but her life isn't perfect. Hubby Vic Morrow is a drunk who beats their young daughter. Vic churns through his intro scene with an accent anything but Irish, blasting a lot of hot air as his wife because he intends to be Senator. He drunkenly goes to make an oath on the Bible, which Joanna considers blasphemy and they fight over...at the top of the staircase. Yup, she takes a tumble down the stairs, killing the child she was about to have, though she survives. It was a boy, and Vic knows how much she wanted a son. Arguing with his wife's doctor, who is no fan of his, Vic remembers a boy at the orphanage. He wonders...
As resilient as ever, Richard is attacked by three men for his money belt and beats the crap out of all three without breaking a sweat. Nothing stops him from delivering Ray Bolger's illegal money. Ray knows about the three guys, "a-moanin' and a-groanin'" in an alley, but he's impressed by the fact that Richard never spills the beans or has any trouble with the illegal activities. Ray offers him a job, at $20 a week, no less, but he turns it down. It's not part of his plan.
When Vic wondered about the kids in the orphanage, it was Richard's siblings he was talking about. Joanna and Sister Celeste Holm try to get him to agree to let them be adopted, but he refuses. He has always wanted to keep his siblings together, the three of them as a family. Despite the soft lighting just on Joanna's pretty eyes, he keeps saying no, but he can't refuse a visit to her home, to see how she lives, to see what he's turning down. Thuggish Vic is in bed with a maid when Joanna comes hope, drunk and ornery. Having finished with the maid, Vic argues with Richard about the kids, Richard still standing firm against the adoption. Richard won't let the kids live in Vic's home, "until it's up for sale." Vic even tries to buy the kids, which infuriates Richard, but makes it worse by telling Richard he'll never amount to anything. Richard has a comeback to Vic's high-handed attitude (not as good as when Vic calls him "smug-mouth potato boiler") because he knows Vic has made his money from selling slaves, and this is 1861 after all.
Having realized money is the only way to make it in America, he wants it quickly. He pays off Sister Celeste to take care of the kids for a year or more, and she promises to care for them as long as she lives. He then steals Ray Bolger's money, writing him a letter that he's doing so, promising to bring it back with interest in a year. On his way to the train, he's detained by Sargent Martin Kove, who tries to force him into the army, but he knocks him out and still can't get to the train because Lebanese pick pocket/chatterbox Harvey Jason stops him, figuring of all the men in the crowd, he stands the best chance of getting on the train with Richard. He's right, for they do get on the train, but just as he's describing the best way to get rich, Harvey's leg gets stuck and almost amputated, but Richard does a bit of daring and saves his new buddy.
Impressed by Richard's bravery is Charles Durning, slurping down a bottle of whiskey and renaming Harvey's character to make him sound less like a "heathen." He's another bombastic loud mouth. Richard can't escape them! Richard tells Charles of his ambition, and after Charles stops choking on his liquor and laughing, he actually agrees. The two gab the whole train ride, where Richard reveals himself to be educated and ambitious. "You've got all the makings of a good scoundrel," Charles admires. Charles is something of a big deal in Titusville, and he takes Richard and Harvey under his wing, insisting that Richard is responsible for Harvey. The lure of Titusville is its oil, Richard's surest way to success.
Talk about your attempt at scene stealing, Charles introduces Richard to "Martinique," not his wife, but the woman living with him, played by Barbara Parkins like a slutty Mrs. Danvers. Also living at Charles' is Beverly D'Angelo, not his daughter, but a hooker he bought. "She loves me like a father in every way but one," he boasts. Charles decides to teach Richard everything, but for Richard, it's all about money and since Charles won't pay him much, he decides to work in the fields, against Charles' advice.
Richard takes the worst possible job he can, hauling nitro glycerine around, while he learns everything he can and tends to his now-hobbled friend Harvey, who has caught the attention of Miss Beverly. Using their combined skills (Harvey is a banker), Richard decides to buy up oil field options for his new company. In less than a year, Richard is able to pay Ray Bolger back, with interest. Ray notes that Richard paid him back in less than half the time promised, which reminds us that Richard may be hungry for money, but he's a man of his word, so much so that he's able to wheedle an exorbitant amount of money from Ray to give to Harvey to buy up the oil field options (remember, he's the hero, so he's once again promised to pay Ray back, even though this money isn't stolen).
Even nature can't get in the way of Richard's drive. He and a fellow nitro glycerine hauler are doing their work when a convenient avalanche kills the other guy. Later in the day, he's dressed in his finest, visiting with Barbara Parkins, ogling all the books in the library. The difference between the money Charles has and Richard will have is in these books: Charles told Barbara to buy the finest books, but he doesn't care what the books are. Richard knows all of the authors and what is IN the books. Okay, okay, it's a bit on the heavy-handed side, but it keeps Richard human. No one ever talked about Joe Kennedy's library.
Charles proposes another scheme, this one requiring Richard to dress up in brand-new finery to get into a "venture" with Peter Donat. At $2000 per month, Richard accepts the job without even finding out what the job is. "The alternative to the success of this job is not failure, but death," Peter warns him, but Richard is undaunted, asking only to write out a sort of will. It turns out the job is to run guns during the height of the Civil War. Richard isn't afraid of that.
He then gets a visit on a stormy night from va-va-vooming Barbara Parkins, who pegs him as a virgin. With serious intent, she decides to solve that problem. It's the least romantic deflowering I can think of in any miniseries. She starts kissing his chest, but he stops her. "Before you take off all my clothes, take off yours," he commands. The camera pans to the window and then back to the two, now finished, Barbara resting her head on Richard's sprawling chest, as we've seen so many times in the genre. Barbara tells a somewhat cryptic history of her time with Charles, and that they do not have sex. "His needs are very simple, and, as you can tell, mine are not," she purrs, saying that she's been waiting for a man like him. This one sexual experience has given Richard sexual balls as well, and he wants Barbara for his own, but she shoots that one down, refusing to be owned by anyone. Vamping the hell out of the scene, standing naked at the window, she tells him she'll be his any time he wants her, but he is never to ask what hold Charles has over her ever again.
Peter takes Richard to meet Pernell Roberts, the Union Colonel who is part of the gun-running scheme. His is initially afraid to be caught as a traitor, but receiving $50K for his part in it soothes those worries. Richard turns out to be a better deal-maker than anyone expects. That night, it's off to the theater to see Edwin Booth (Peter notes that he's never seen him, but has met his brother, John Wilkes Booth, "excellent"--yes, we know, it's still the Civil War). What I'm not mentioning here is the way all of these deals go down. It's beautiful writing (we have to thank Taylor Caldwell's novel as well as the writers of the script), very cleverly handled, like a mystery novel.
With the gun running episode successful, Richard returns to visit his siblings, Sister Celeste Holm and Joanna Pettet. Richard and Joanna have a talky scene about, well, not a whole lot, and she insists that he better not be in love with him. He never has been. To make sure we understand, the next scene has Barbara accosting him on the doorstep with an open mouth. Charles' daughter is in town, and the house rule is that when she is in residence, Beverly isn't. They stash her in a hotel. Hanging out the window that evening, she spies Harvey on the street and beckons him to her room. Beverly keeps trying to take her clothes off and seduce him, but nervous Harvey, like Richard, is too focused on the financial rewards of life. He's also scared of fooling around with her because Charles won't like it. "I didn't ask you up here to do anything bad," Beverly mopes, "it's just that I'm so lonely." To make sure he understands her flirtations are more pure, she gives him a token to a whorehouse, which he says he will keep "forever."
Charles' daughter is lovely Blair Brown, a belle pure as snow, especially coming from such a hard-boiled tough as her conniving father. Charles makes it clear that Blair is only good enough for someone high-toned (Charles would play Honey Fitz later on his career, Rose Kennedy's father, in some very similar scenes). Charles announces the gun running is over and he wants Richard to come into the oil business with him, but Richard has no money to buy stocks, all of his money in what is considered the oil-free land he and Harry have been buying. Basically, the scene rolls on as Charles tries to screw Richard out of everything he owns, and a furious Richard storms out, which makes Charles all contrary. He knows Richard's land is worth a fortune, so he wants to be his partner. Richard agrees, but on his terms. Charles has no choice but to agree, with a few conditions of his own and a promise that he'll "never cheat ya." Richard tries to angle in one last term, that Charles tell him what hold he has over Barbara, but he refuses. At any rate, they agree.
Richard sets out to re-invent the oil industry, starting with the railroads, bringing us Robert Vaughn. It's here that Richard shows is darker side, getting the railroad barons to agree to ship only oil controlled by his company or those of his friends. "That's nasty...and I love it," perpetual villain Robert sneers.
Among all the scenes of corporate greed, we have to suffer through a little more pain between Harvey and Beverly. Their scenes reek of the dippy secondary love plots in creaky musical comedies. But, they finally do have sex and though Richard is thrilled, he knows Charles will be pissed, so he sends Harvey out the back way to avoid detection. Unfortunately for Richard, the sex happened in his bed, so when Charles' hulking manservant comes in, he thinks it's Richard who has had his way with her. A fight ensues and the manservant ends up dead, with Beverly pretending that the manservant tried to rape her. Charles doesn't believe that, still thinking it was Richard, but Barbara gives him a true alibi. No one rats out Harvey, and Peter Donat steps in to save the whole mess by concocting a story where the manservant was drunk and fell out of the window.
The biggest question is whether or not Charles and Richard can trust each other anymore.
Blair Brown has an instant crush on Richard. Daddy's chaste little girl is an avowed flirt, but Richard will not allow himself to be taken in, as he promised Charles. Late one night in the kitchen, Blair lays it on the line: she's not looking for a husband, just fun and sex, like the arrangement he has with Barbara. Just as Blair tells Richard she does not intend to be a virgin forever, Charles and Barbara arrive back home with Vic Morrow, Richard's old nemesis who wanted to buy his siblings. To make Richard jealous, Blair takes up Vic on his offer to take her back to school on his private train. And it's there that Blair ceases to be a virgin.
Over a pool game, Richard gets back to business, buying out George Gaynes' company without actually spending a dime, and now the robber barons and Robert Vaughn consider him for membership in their exclusive club of fat cats.
For the first time, we venture into real-life characters in a brief scene where President Lincoln welcomes Vic Morrow to Washington as its newest Senator. Blair follows him to DC to drop the bomb that she's pregnant. This smart cookie has decided to marry a "socially prominent Protestant" man to act as the father of the baby, a man who has asked for her hand in marriage. He can't say no because he's just died in battle, so Blair insists that Senator Vic forge the necessary papers to make her an instant war widow with a legitimate child on the way. Richard and Barbara go along with the scheme (whether they believe it or not doesn't matter), but Charles gets rip-roaring drunk, going for the gold with a hoot of a scene and then dies.
Charles' will is a hoot. He leaves an awfully lot of money to his servants and employees, $50K to Beverly, who can now marry Harvey, and $150K to Barbara. She is now free to tell her story: she's part black from parentage in Jamaica, killed the son of the Jamaican government who tried to make her a slave and was taken to safety by Charles. She will go to Europe and seek a rich man, telling Richard to stay and marry Blair. Charles leaves the bulk of his fortune to Richard, with the stipulation that he manage Blair's money. With Richard and Blair now tied together by this condition, Richard wants to marry Blair, but she refuses. "It's just too late!"
Now that Richard is sole owner of Charles' oil company, he's invited join the robber barons on Good Friday, 1865, just as Lincoln is shot.
Fast forward to 1873. Richard is fabulously wealthy in his massive garish house, finding that money isn't enough for him. He wants power! So, he gets Harvey to buy a bunch of politicians. Speaking of politicians, his neighbors are Vic's family, with now-grown daughter Patty Duke.
Also grown are Richard's siblings. Katherine Crawford is first seen at confession, saying she wants to join a convent in Baltimore. Brother David Huffman, at Harvard, is bent on labor reform, pushing unionization on the workers, much to Richard's chagrin. Richard sees the irony in this: David is "weeping for the downtrodden" without "having worked a day in his life." He quips that he should have never left his siblings so long in the church. Unfortunately for David, he's caught in the middle of a labor battle where Richard's goons mow down a bunch of workers before being saved by Jenny Sullivan, a mine worker herself, who sends David to his brother to report on the heinous crime.
Joanna is dying, so she gets a deathbed scene with Richard. She had once asked Richard not to love her, but now she admits that she's loved him all along, and he admits the same. Geez, it only took a few decades! The conversation takes a creepy turn when Joanna tells Richard that her daughter Patty also loves him and she wants Richard to take her safely from obnoxious Vic's house and to marry her. It's one hell of a deathbed scene, full of halting whispered sentences delivered only with the light from a nearby fire. As soon as Richard agrees to marry Patty, Joanna dies peacefully.
Rather than actually grieve for his wife, Vic decides to lambaste Richard, accusing him of having an affair with his wife. The two have a gigantic fight, and of course old alkie Vic is no match for strapping Richard. Stopped from beating him to a pulp, Richard declares, "I won't kill him. I'll destroy him, and by God he'll wish I had killed him!" That makes for a great cliffhanger as the episode ends.
Vic chases Richard, who asks him for Patty's hand in marriage, which prompts Vic to think that it's Patty Richard has wanted all along. Richard doesn't bother correcting him.
His siblings are still proving a problem. Richard and David have a blowout over the labor issue, where David sounds like like any labor organizer of the 1870s, ending with the capper that he feels Richard made all of his money only for himself, not his siblings. Well, he may not be entirely wrong. After all, we do have a flawed hero here. It's possible Richard had his siblings in mind, but also himself. The argument ends with Richard cutting David out of his life and David vowing that he'll be a permanent thorn in his side over the labor issue, even from afar. Katherine has been listening to all of this while praying upstairs for the courage to leave Richard and join the convent. The causes Richard's second argument in ten minutes. If anyone else arrives, the poor man will lose his voice, not to mention he's fast running out of cliches (his siblings are so dull and I get the feeling the writers agree). "Sean can go to hell and you...can go to Jesus!" Richard bellows at the end of the argument, with Katherine playing herself on the floor. At least he ended on a grandiose note.
The problem of labor takes over for a while. The governor, the railroads and management gang up on the workers, with David and Jenny at the center of it. David is a fierce orator. He actually castigates the workers at a meeting for forming a mob because that "invites suppressive action from government." A different tactic is needed.
In 1880 and Patty, who knows she's stuck in a marriage springing from a deathbed promise, has given birth to four children, and now Patty's father Vic is marrying Blair. Not only does he think Blair is too good for Vic, but Richard has been keeping a dossier on the Senator that he intends to use at some point, to utterly destroy him. That might make his marriage a little uncomfortable. Harvey hopes to blunt this action by reminding Richard of this, but Richard says that what Patty thinks means absolutely nothing to him. Richard is becoming far more of a flawed hero.
Six months later, Richard's plan has worked so well that Vic is politically neutered and about to be destroyed financially because the government is demanding "recompense." Drunk as hell, Vic spews a whole speech at Richard, not knowing it's Richard who has ruined him, but he soon finds out! Vic pulls a gun and says he's going to make his daughter "a widow," but Richard is calm, even telling him to wait for a thunderclap in order to shoot so his daughter and grandchildren will never know. But Vic can't pull the trigger. Having thoroughly destroyed Vic, Richard literally tosses him out of the house into the violent storm.
David is sent to prison on a fake charge of inciting a gang of men to blow up a train and sentenced to hang. Jenny, baby in tow, begs David to contact Richard to help, but he refuses. So, she goes herself. Richard agrees to help only if Jenny agrees never to tell anyone he has done so. When Robert Vaughn wonders why Richard has not gone after the culprits of train bombing with more venom, he claims it's not because of his brother, but for his son. Why? Because he wants him to be the first Irish Catholic President (that does indeed sound familiar) and an uncle who was executed will not be a help. Robert retorts that "he has as much chance as little black Sambo." That's certainly laying it on the line. Richard and Robert even agree to marry their small children at some future date.
Vic dies in the gutter one rainy night (it always rains when he's around, have you noticed that?) and even President Garfield expresses his sympathy, introducing Richard to Senator Henry Fonda. He's a problem for the robber barons because he's pro-labor and apparently squeaky clean.
Things get ugly when, at the Capitol rotunda, Blair demands to see Richard. She knows everything Richard has done and she wants her money separated from Richard's, against the will of her father. Richard refuses anyway because in order to disentangle their money, he would lose money and that he refuses to do. Blair picks this moment to tell Richard that the baby of the dead fake husband was actually Vic's. "It seems we all wasted our best years...without love," Richard tells Blair before grabbing her and marching her upstairs to the bedroom. He's always wanted her and now his reasons for not having her have all disappeared.
Richard wants to marry Blair but she knows of his plans to put his son in the White House and she's fine being his mistress so as not to ruin those plans. "For the first time, everything is as it should be," she says before doing what all miniseries lovers do, placing her head on his chest.
An intimate dinner is thrown by Richard for just himself and Senator Henry Fonda. Richard oozes charm at first, but Henry wants honesty, so they hash out the issues. Henry has a bill in Congress that will help even the poorest workers by outlawing foreign workers. Richard and his gang want the foreign labor because they come damn cheap. Henry notes that Richard is attempting to bribe him, which Richard knows he can't prove, and Henry has had enough. But, Richard has a surprise waiting and calls in Harvey. He brings a bunch of documents that would ruin Henry. The big secret? Henry had a mulatto grandmother. It's 1881 and that still carries some weight. Henry nails this scene, his usual understated acting style a virtue in handling the character's conflicts.
Once Henry leaves, Richard burns the documents, his only hold over Henry, much to the admiration of Harvey, but events may have gone too far already. Henry leaves a note at the hotel desk that he plans to kill himself and leave that curse hanging over Richard's head forever. That's a delicious plot twist. Yes, we could see it coming by Henry's demeanor, but watching it unfold is great TV.
Wifey Patty has had Richard followed by a detective, who says Richard is completely faithful, except for "the party." "Stop calling her a party. It sounds positively festive," Patty snaps. When she finds out it's Blair, she's calm and actually offers the detective a new job. She's figured out that Blair's son is actually Vic's. She wants her detective to find out the truth she already knows, this time with physical proof. Patty races off to Blair's house for the showdown. In no uncertain terms, Patty wants the affair to end, but Blair refuses, so Patty pulls out the evidence. However, Blair doesn't give Patty the reaction she was hoping for. Blair doesn't care if the truth comes out: she'll help put it out there! She was only holding it back while Vic was alive. What does it matter now? No wonder Patty won an Emmy for this performance. She's sensational here. She goes from calm and definitive to wild and angry with a slow build and then to utter devastation when foiled. By the end she's begging Blair not to tell Richard any of this because she "fears his hate" more than anything. It's a gorgeous performance and a great way to handle plotting.
In 1892, Richard's son has grown into Perry King. At the theater, Richard tries to push Perry into Robert Vaughn's daughter Cynthia Syke's arms, but Perry likes to squire around many women and doesn't want the unintelligent Terry.
When Richard gets home, he finds Patty drunk. It seems she's degenerated into an alcoholic worse than her father. The showdown with Blair has completely undone her and forced her into this depraved lifestyle. She hisses at Robert that he's using his son to get back at the world for treating him badly as a child and ignoring his other kids. She begs him to hit her. "It's the first time you'll have touched me since you started sleeping with my S...T...E...P...M...O...T...H...E...R!"
Perry is about to be kicked out of school for fighting and this angers Richard, who threatens to fight back by blackmailing the other kid's father, who was forced to drop out of a campaign for cloudy reasons. He dispatches Harvey to Mayor Burl Ives' house to find out the dirt (a homosexual liaison) and gluttonous Burl is happy to oblige. The plan, naturally, works.
As for Perry, he's infatuated with a Vassar girl...wait for it...she's here...Jane Seymour! Yup, she's here, gracing this story with her presence! With the help of his relative Terry Kiser (Blair's son), he meets her in an ice cream shop where she's on a date with another man. Perry refuses to leave and Jane's date's friends gang up on him. He leaves, but he's just beginning his assault on Jane's attentions. It's working during a Romeo and Juliet-like balcony scene when the thugs from the ice cream shop beat him up. They douse him in alcohol and hang a sign around his neck: NO IRISH.
Though Perry wants no immediate revenge, his brother Doug Heyes doesn't see it like that and beats the hell out of Jane's other suitor. Perry is still infatuated with Jane, who is definitely cracking under the full weight of his charm. The biggest problem is that Jane is Protestant and Perry is Catholic. As violins suddenly spring up on the soundtrack, Jane tells Perry that she can't disobey his father, that he's confined to a wheelchair and needs her. But, Perry is tough and they two make out on the grass as Jane confesses her love.
And who should be playing Jane's papa but John Houseman? A miniseries regular, he and Jane missed out on working together in the Herman Wouk pieces, with Houseman in "Winds of War," replaced by John Gielgud in "War and Remembrance," while Jane took over Ali McGraw's role for the latter. In his spitting venomously way of speaking, John spells out all the reasons he hates the whole Armagh family (father cheats, son is a "libertine"). He then has a convenient attack of whatever ails him and then lays the guilt on thick. "If you choose to to be seen with this Rory Armagh (Perry King), you've seen the last of me...in the little time I have left." Are we sure he's not playing a Jewish mother? Even an Italian mother?
Perry has to break the news to his father too. Richard is thrilled, only because he assumes it's an affair and won't last. He can't countenance an actual marriage because Catholicism doesn't allow for divorce should Perry grow tired of her, but that's not the worst of it. He tells of Jane's religion, and Richard explodes in a tirade worthy of his long-gone mentor, Charles Durning. He tries to make Perry understand that it's only a select group of men who control the entire world, but Perry doesn't buy it (I guess he hadn't watched the previous five episodes). "They exist. I know, because I'm one of them! And you will be too. And those men will make you President!" Richard yells, but only if he marries a Catholic.
In 1896, Perry graduates and they commemorate the occasion with some photographs on the lawn. Everyone is present except sister Ann Dusenberry, who is in love with Perry's pal Terry Kiser, making out when Perry goes to find them. They want to get married, but that presents a problem because they are blood relatives. No one but Richard and Patty know (which is why Patty hates him), but not Perry does. Richard breaks the news to Terry, who races off to find Ann, dashing off to tell Patty about the impending nuptials. Fate intervenes, as it always does in these situations, and before she can tell Patty, she is thrown from her horse and falls. As good at "Captains and the Kings" is, it's still a soap opera, and these helpful twists of fate have a way of settling difficult situations. Everyone waits for Ann to return, but she doesn't and by nightfall, they are worried and go looking for her. Terry finds her alive, but barely.
Something has happened to her. She's awake, eyes open and such, but she does not understand, cannot comm...okay, I'll say it...she has brain damage! This part does in fact reek of the Kennedy curse, in the form of a Rosemary stand-in. Patty, in a full rage, wants Blair and Terry out of the house, but they leave only after Terry lets loose a little bile in Richard's direction. He's always liked Richard, but now he hates him as much as he hates Patty. Before leaving, Terry demands some alone with Ann to tell her he's leaving, not that she comprehends. Richard and Patty take Ann to the best specialists in Europe, but no one can help. Perry tries to gloss over it by noting Patty gets to spend time alone with Richard as she's always wanted.
Harvey sums up a few plots for us, just because they have been dangling: Richard's siblings are still alive and Kathleen even writes twice a month, though Harvey hides the letters. And Harvey's own beloved Beverly has died.
Perry and Jane get married by a Justice of the Peace and head right to bed while the Justice's wife realizes who Perry is and formulates a plan in her mind due to Richard's wealth.
London, 1897. Cantankerous Patty and Richard are at a hotel, where Patty annoys the staff, but Richard is only excited that Robert Vaughn has been appointed Ambassador to the Court of St. James, which means the marriage between Perry and his daughter will be even more important. Oh, and then there's a letter in the same packet from the Justice of the Peace.
Neither father nor son brings up the marriage when Perry arrives in London. Instead, Richard takes Perry to meet the men who rule the world, telling him it may be the most important night of his life.
Perry goes to the meeting and it's downright bizarre. It literally is a collection of accents, men who run the world, or at least they think they do. If we thought Richard was getting too evil, we now have TRUE evil to make him look a little better (though he's one of them, he says he doesn't like them). Just as Perry is about to tell Richard he is married to Jane, when Richard tells him of his plans, $20 million the day he marries Robert Vaughn's daughter. If he does not marry the girl, he's cut out of dad's will and dad's life. Perry chickens out and doesn't tell him (although he already knows).
Back in NYC, and back in bed, because that's where they exist, Perry admits he didn't tell his father about Jane, but that he will stay married to her and his father can make one of his brothers President. The world then gets in the way when the Spanish-American War breaks out and Perry realizes the men in London made it happen.
When Richard returns to Philadelphia, he takes his anger at the marriage out on Harvey, whom he accuses of disloyalty and everything thing else he can think of. An impassioned speech of eternal devotion brings Richard back down to earth and he forgives Harvey. Besides, he has a plan already to "destroy" the marriage.
Perry and brother Doug argue about what the war means right before a montage of Teddy Roosevelt and Bill McKinley disagree about what to do with the war. Roosevelt wins out and McKinley declares war. Doug even joins Teddy's Rough Riders. Somehow the only solution to bring him back is for Perry to go after him. I could think of about 15 reasons right now that might work better, but so be the vagaries of plot.
Have you been missing Patty Duke? She's losing it, sort of mad, sort of drunk, sort of guilty at Ann's side. Ann is still in the same medical state, and Patty tells her a fairy tale that ends with self-recrimination. They aren't part of the plot much anymore, but Patty is still acting up a storm.
Two different wars are juxtaposed in quick alternating scenes. The first is the war in Cuba, with Perry hunting down his brother. The other is Richard going to John Houseman's office to discuss their children. John his aides he expects to melt Richard's gruff exterior, but if not, he will ring his bell and they will take him forcibly. Uh huh, two old men against Richard. Richard has the upper hand because he knows of the marriage. Judge John is aghast when he finds out Richard has destroyed all records of the marriage, having paid off the Justice of the Peace and the County Clerk. Furthermore, he's forged notes and had a handwriting expert pen them in Perry and Jane's handwriting ending the marriage. To sweeten the pot and get John to go along with it, he'll pay John $10K a month.
In Cuba, Perry looks very sexy in a shirt ripped in all the places to show off his body to maximum effect as he is forced to take up a gun and look for Doug. It takes a while, but he finds his brother, mortally wounded so badly that Perry has to lie to him and tell him the Rough Riders have won the battle, which is far from the truth. Watch Perry as he listens to Doug's patriotic speech about fighting for one's country. He looks like he's going to laugh the whole time. It is over-written to say the least, the kind that makes you want to rush to your closet and dig out that flag you've been saving for the front lawn. Doug dies right after giving the speech, cradled in his brothers arms.
When Richard goes to tell Patty about Doug, she is asleep in bed, clutching a glass. He happily fills it for her because she's going to need it. Before he can tell her about Doug, she admits to having told Ann about Terry (causing her to race out and get herself injured), but Richard forgives that quickly in order to deliver the really bad news. Patty flies into a rage and then crouches on the ground, wide-eyed, talking of a curse on her family: father, daughter, son...at least for now. Patty and Ann are packed off to a nut house and Perry brings back Doug's body for burial.
Perry dashes over to find Jane, but only finds the note his father has planted. It's a doozie, saying she had to leave him and is off to travel with her father. Perry goes on a binge that ends him up in Chicago where a local thief and hooker snatch his wallet, but realize he's the nephew of labor leader Uncle David. So, they call him and David tries to talk sense into his nephew. Perry goes home, admitting defeat to his father. He will marry Robert Vaughn's daughter, collect the $20 million and become President.
It's 1910 and Richard wants Perry to be President in 1912. He's been a dithering Congressman, so Richard wants the governor, whom he pays, to appoint Perry a senator (in the days before senators were directly elected). Marriage to Cynthia has produced some heirs, so everyone has done their duties. Perry does everything asked of him by the men in power, bending their way to kill bills in Congress he believes in.
Then there is brother Cliff DeYoung, up to now ignored. He's a wastrel, flying planes and thinking of selling them to armies should a war come. He even has a movie star girlfriend and a movie studio. She's a ditz. "I cried at my own acting," she proudly says. "So did I," he says sarcastically.
Sorry to end Cliff's mirth, but Richard has had a heart attack. Not expected to live, he's defying the odds and even firing doctors. The dream of Perry being President is not dying with Richard. Cliff is his campaign manager and they bring all their cronies together to buy votes across the country. "And send me the bill," Perry says. Handsome and excitable, Perry is an ideal candidate, with his father reading every paper praising his son from his bed. Not everyone is happy, though. Protestant preachers and the KKK aren't happy. Hell, the KKK does their whole cross burning thing on Richard's lawn.
The campaign goes very well. It has some bumps, some people within his own party who don't like him, but the juggernaut rolls on. And then Jane Seymour calls out of nowhere. Perry dashes off to see her and they fall into each other's arms (and onto the floor) the minute she opens the door. On his deathbed, her father admitted all he had done. They confess eternal love to each other, but Cliff has to find a way to figure this all out.
Blair Brown is dying. She and Richard have stayed apart ever since Ann's accident, but since she is dying, maybe it's time. Harvey is dispatched to see how she is. Other than some bad putty wrinkles and make-up, she looks pretty damn good! The doctor has given her a sedative, so she has to sleep, but she invites Harvey back in a week to "talk all day." Uh oh, don't put timing on it, because that makes it a sure thing she'll be gone in a week. On his way out, Harvey finds a letter that Blair has written but never intended to send, one last love letter. Indeed, Blair croaks four hours after Harvey left.
As Cliff runs around buying votes for Perry, Harvey tells Richard he wants to retire. "Was it something I did...or didn't do?" Richard asks of his one true friend, the only person he really trusts. As a parting gift, he gives Richard his sister's letters that Richard thought were destroyed. Harvey intends to travel the world and be back in time to vote for Perry.
Uh oh. The men in power have decided they want Woodrow Wilson to be President, with Perry as Vice President, still promising to make him President, but not until 1920. The men have decided a war is necessary in the coming years and Wilson is the best man to handle it. This is all rather a nasty plot twist to characters we have come to love, undermining the dream Richard has had for so many years, as good or bad as he may be.
Uncle David gets a surprise when Richard shows up at his house. His wife decides to tell him the truth about how Richard saved him all those years ago, so he agrees to see Richard. This is the first time Richard has appeared timid and tentative, even afraid. There is some power missing from the scene because David was never given a fully developed characterization. Anyway, the reason he's there is to ask his brother's help in winning the election for his son, having to fight against the men in power. This whole scene serves to redeem Richard's character one last time. No longer a member of the evil boy's club, he wants to what he's always wanted now based on merit. Richard tells Perry the men have dropped him and Perry is thrilled, because he has wanted to smash them. Unfortunately, Robert Vaughn has been listening to the whole conversation on a phone extension, so things are going to end badly.
Okay, with only moments to go in the movie, we get a plot twist we did not expect and one that is, frankly, damn annoying. The Titanic sinks with Harvey on it. Come on, is that REALLY necessary? Fine, I understand that Harvey needs to pay for his sins just as much as anyone, but on the Titanic? That's historical fiction at its dumbest.
I hate to bring this up, folks, but with Perry running as an idealist, suddenly on the opposite side of the men in power, he has to die. A story like this demands it. During a campaign stop, he is shot and dies, but at least in Jane's arms. Where else is Richard to turn but to Patty, calling herself "confused," but completely bonkers. She's been paying for her sins for way too long. Richard is just starting. He even invites Jane to mourn with him at the funeral. She tells Richard how much Perry loved him and he starts to cry, not having really understood it all these years. The funeral is an odd assortment: Richard, his nun sister, both of Perry's wives and even Robert Vaughn, who had him killed.
Humbled and broken (we assume that Cliff dies in an airplane accident), Richard sits in a chair in his great mansion, having lost everyone and everything that should have mattered to him as he spend his life racing for power and money.
If the last episode of the miniseries is a bit too sentimental, a completely change of tone from the rest, it's to be expected. People do have to pay for the things they want most, and in this case, it's not payment in money, but in lives. That's a lofty idea, one we might not have expected television to tackle in the 1970s. But here it is and it's splendid.
Though "Rich Man, Poor Man" pre-dated "Captains and the Kings" by about seven months and thus earns the distinction of being the groundbreaking miniseries, the one that started it all, I would say that "Captain and the Kings" is actually a better cornerstone. "Rich Man, Poor Man" certainly set up the future of the romance miniseries, but its scope is rather small, staying tight on its three lead characters. "Captain and the Kings" is history and adventure, a fore running to the decade-spawning and character-driven epics to follow in the coming twenty years or so. It also foreshadows the seedier side of the miniseries genre, the Sidney Sheldon and Judith Krantz sagas, full of greed and lust, which are a whole lot of fun. Therefore, "Captains and the Kings" is far more comprehensive an effort than "Richard Man, Poor Man" even if it's been more forgotten over time.
All good epics start with a tragedy, giving the hero something to make up for his whole life long. It's 1857, New York harbor and a ship of Irish immigrants is waiting to get in. A young boy and his two siblings are on board with their mother, who promptly dies after five minutes. Priest John Carradine tells the young boy that the ship is being sent back to Ireland, and he'll have none of that, this plucky smart youth. He tosses his siblings overboard with a life preserver.
The city's homeless feed them and put them on a train to find their father. They show up at the address they remember, with a sign outside that says "Irish Allowed." Grumpy frumpy Ann Southern runs the place, milking the Irish accent and a cane for all they are worth, but she has more bad news for the kids: Dad is dead too. The youth decides that he can no longer be a child and support his siblings. He deposits them in a convent run by Sister Celeste Holm. He tells his siblings to lose their Irish accents, to become Americans. He then goes off to work in a coal mine, doing backbreaking labor during the day and studying at night. The kid isn't stupid, cunning enough to realize that Ray Bolger runs the town and all of its crime, offering his services.
Four years later, our boy has matured into Richard Jordan, still carrying illegal goods for Ray Bolger, playing his few scenes to the back of the balcony. Ray can't imagine what Richard does with his free time and books. "I'm the secret lover of a lady librarian," he says. He gets his books from rich Joanna Pettet, on whom he has a crush. He tells a priest he doesn't covet her, he "adores her" and intends to someday live her lifestyle.
Joanna may be rich, but her life isn't perfect. Hubby Vic Morrow is a drunk who beats their young daughter. Vic churns through his intro scene with an accent anything but Irish, blasting a lot of hot air as his wife because he intends to be Senator. He drunkenly goes to make an oath on the Bible, which Joanna considers blasphemy and they fight over...at the top of the staircase. Yup, she takes a tumble down the stairs, killing the child she was about to have, though she survives. It was a boy, and Vic knows how much she wanted a son. Arguing with his wife's doctor, who is no fan of his, Vic remembers a boy at the orphanage. He wonders...
As resilient as ever, Richard is attacked by three men for his money belt and beats the crap out of all three without breaking a sweat. Nothing stops him from delivering Ray Bolger's illegal money. Ray knows about the three guys, "a-moanin' and a-groanin'" in an alley, but he's impressed by the fact that Richard never spills the beans or has any trouble with the illegal activities. Ray offers him a job, at $20 a week, no less, but he turns it down. It's not part of his plan.
When Vic wondered about the kids in the orphanage, it was Richard's siblings he was talking about. Joanna and Sister Celeste Holm try to get him to agree to let them be adopted, but he refuses. He has always wanted to keep his siblings together, the three of them as a family. Despite the soft lighting just on Joanna's pretty eyes, he keeps saying no, but he can't refuse a visit to her home, to see how she lives, to see what he's turning down. Thuggish Vic is in bed with a maid when Joanna comes hope, drunk and ornery. Having finished with the maid, Vic argues with Richard about the kids, Richard still standing firm against the adoption. Richard won't let the kids live in Vic's home, "until it's up for sale." Vic even tries to buy the kids, which infuriates Richard, but makes it worse by telling Richard he'll never amount to anything. Richard has a comeback to Vic's high-handed attitude (not as good as when Vic calls him "smug-mouth potato boiler") because he knows Vic has made his money from selling slaves, and this is 1861 after all.
Having realized money is the only way to make it in America, he wants it quickly. He pays off Sister Celeste to take care of the kids for a year or more, and she promises to care for them as long as she lives. He then steals Ray Bolger's money, writing him a letter that he's doing so, promising to bring it back with interest in a year. On his way to the train, he's detained by Sargent Martin Kove, who tries to force him into the army, but he knocks him out and still can't get to the train because Lebanese pick pocket/chatterbox Harvey Jason stops him, figuring of all the men in the crowd, he stands the best chance of getting on the train with Richard. He's right, for they do get on the train, but just as he's describing the best way to get rich, Harvey's leg gets stuck and almost amputated, but Richard does a bit of daring and saves his new buddy.
Impressed by Richard's bravery is Charles Durning, slurping down a bottle of whiskey and renaming Harvey's character to make him sound less like a "heathen." He's another bombastic loud mouth. Richard can't escape them! Richard tells Charles of his ambition, and after Charles stops choking on his liquor and laughing, he actually agrees. The two gab the whole train ride, where Richard reveals himself to be educated and ambitious. "You've got all the makings of a good scoundrel," Charles admires. Charles is something of a big deal in Titusville, and he takes Richard and Harvey under his wing, insisting that Richard is responsible for Harvey. The lure of Titusville is its oil, Richard's surest way to success.
Talk about your attempt at scene stealing, Charles introduces Richard to "Martinique," not his wife, but the woman living with him, played by Barbara Parkins like a slutty Mrs. Danvers. Also living at Charles' is Beverly D'Angelo, not his daughter, but a hooker he bought. "She loves me like a father in every way but one," he boasts. Charles decides to teach Richard everything, but for Richard, it's all about money and since Charles won't pay him much, he decides to work in the fields, against Charles' advice.
Richard takes the worst possible job he can, hauling nitro glycerine around, while he learns everything he can and tends to his now-hobbled friend Harvey, who has caught the attention of Miss Beverly. Using their combined skills (Harvey is a banker), Richard decides to buy up oil field options for his new company. In less than a year, Richard is able to pay Ray Bolger back, with interest. Ray notes that Richard paid him back in less than half the time promised, which reminds us that Richard may be hungry for money, but he's a man of his word, so much so that he's able to wheedle an exorbitant amount of money from Ray to give to Harvey to buy up the oil field options (remember, he's the hero, so he's once again promised to pay Ray back, even though this money isn't stolen).
Even nature can't get in the way of Richard's drive. He and a fellow nitro glycerine hauler are doing their work when a convenient avalanche kills the other guy. Later in the day, he's dressed in his finest, visiting with Barbara Parkins, ogling all the books in the library. The difference between the money Charles has and Richard will have is in these books: Charles told Barbara to buy the finest books, but he doesn't care what the books are. Richard knows all of the authors and what is IN the books. Okay, okay, it's a bit on the heavy-handed side, but it keeps Richard human. No one ever talked about Joe Kennedy's library.
Charles proposes another scheme, this one requiring Richard to dress up in brand-new finery to get into a "venture" with Peter Donat. At $2000 per month, Richard accepts the job without even finding out what the job is. "The alternative to the success of this job is not failure, but death," Peter warns him, but Richard is undaunted, asking only to write out a sort of will. It turns out the job is to run guns during the height of the Civil War. Richard isn't afraid of that.
He then gets a visit on a stormy night from va-va-vooming Barbara Parkins, who pegs him as a virgin. With serious intent, she decides to solve that problem. It's the least romantic deflowering I can think of in any miniseries. She starts kissing his chest, but he stops her. "Before you take off all my clothes, take off yours," he commands. The camera pans to the window and then back to the two, now finished, Barbara resting her head on Richard's sprawling chest, as we've seen so many times in the genre. Barbara tells a somewhat cryptic history of her time with Charles, and that they do not have sex. "His needs are very simple, and, as you can tell, mine are not," she purrs, saying that she's been waiting for a man like him. This one sexual experience has given Richard sexual balls as well, and he wants Barbara for his own, but she shoots that one down, refusing to be owned by anyone. Vamping the hell out of the scene, standing naked at the window, she tells him she'll be his any time he wants her, but he is never to ask what hold Charles has over her ever again.
Peter takes Richard to meet Pernell Roberts, the Union Colonel who is part of the gun-running scheme. His is initially afraid to be caught as a traitor, but receiving $50K for his part in it soothes those worries. Richard turns out to be a better deal-maker than anyone expects. That night, it's off to the theater to see Edwin Booth (Peter notes that he's never seen him, but has met his brother, John Wilkes Booth, "excellent"--yes, we know, it's still the Civil War). What I'm not mentioning here is the way all of these deals go down. It's beautiful writing (we have to thank Taylor Caldwell's novel as well as the writers of the script), very cleverly handled, like a mystery novel.
With the gun running episode successful, Richard returns to visit his siblings, Sister Celeste Holm and Joanna Pettet. Richard and Joanna have a talky scene about, well, not a whole lot, and she insists that he better not be in love with him. He never has been. To make sure we understand, the next scene has Barbara accosting him on the doorstep with an open mouth. Charles' daughter is in town, and the house rule is that when she is in residence, Beverly isn't. They stash her in a hotel. Hanging out the window that evening, she spies Harvey on the street and beckons him to her room. Beverly keeps trying to take her clothes off and seduce him, but nervous Harvey, like Richard, is too focused on the financial rewards of life. He's also scared of fooling around with her because Charles won't like it. "I didn't ask you up here to do anything bad," Beverly mopes, "it's just that I'm so lonely." To make sure he understands her flirtations are more pure, she gives him a token to a whorehouse, which he says he will keep "forever."
Charles' daughter is lovely Blair Brown, a belle pure as snow, especially coming from such a hard-boiled tough as her conniving father. Charles makes it clear that Blair is only good enough for someone high-toned (Charles would play Honey Fitz later on his career, Rose Kennedy's father, in some very similar scenes). Charles announces the gun running is over and he wants Richard to come into the oil business with him, but Richard has no money to buy stocks, all of his money in what is considered the oil-free land he and Harry have been buying. Basically, the scene rolls on as Charles tries to screw Richard out of everything he owns, and a furious Richard storms out, which makes Charles all contrary. He knows Richard's land is worth a fortune, so he wants to be his partner. Richard agrees, but on his terms. Charles has no choice but to agree, with a few conditions of his own and a promise that he'll "never cheat ya." Richard tries to angle in one last term, that Charles tell him what hold he has over Barbara, but he refuses. At any rate, they agree.
Richard sets out to re-invent the oil industry, starting with the railroads, bringing us Robert Vaughn. It's here that Richard shows is darker side, getting the railroad barons to agree to ship only oil controlled by his company or those of his friends. "That's nasty...and I love it," perpetual villain Robert sneers.
Among all the scenes of corporate greed, we have to suffer through a little more pain between Harvey and Beverly. Their scenes reek of the dippy secondary love plots in creaky musical comedies. But, they finally do have sex and though Richard is thrilled, he knows Charles will be pissed, so he sends Harvey out the back way to avoid detection. Unfortunately for Richard, the sex happened in his bed, so when Charles' hulking manservant comes in, he thinks it's Richard who has had his way with her. A fight ensues and the manservant ends up dead, with Beverly pretending that the manservant tried to rape her. Charles doesn't believe that, still thinking it was Richard, but Barbara gives him a true alibi. No one rats out Harvey, and Peter Donat steps in to save the whole mess by concocting a story where the manservant was drunk and fell out of the window.
The biggest question is whether or not Charles and Richard can trust each other anymore.
Blair Brown has an instant crush on Richard. Daddy's chaste little girl is an avowed flirt, but Richard will not allow himself to be taken in, as he promised Charles. Late one night in the kitchen, Blair lays it on the line: she's not looking for a husband, just fun and sex, like the arrangement he has with Barbara. Just as Blair tells Richard she does not intend to be a virgin forever, Charles and Barbara arrive back home with Vic Morrow, Richard's old nemesis who wanted to buy his siblings. To make Richard jealous, Blair takes up Vic on his offer to take her back to school on his private train. And it's there that Blair ceases to be a virgin.
Over a pool game, Richard gets back to business, buying out George Gaynes' company without actually spending a dime, and now the robber barons and Robert Vaughn consider him for membership in their exclusive club of fat cats.
For the first time, we venture into real-life characters in a brief scene where President Lincoln welcomes Vic Morrow to Washington as its newest Senator. Blair follows him to DC to drop the bomb that she's pregnant. This smart cookie has decided to marry a "socially prominent Protestant" man to act as the father of the baby, a man who has asked for her hand in marriage. He can't say no because he's just died in battle, so Blair insists that Senator Vic forge the necessary papers to make her an instant war widow with a legitimate child on the way. Richard and Barbara go along with the scheme (whether they believe it or not doesn't matter), but Charles gets rip-roaring drunk, going for the gold with a hoot of a scene and then dies.
Charles' will is a hoot. He leaves an awfully lot of money to his servants and employees, $50K to Beverly, who can now marry Harvey, and $150K to Barbara. She is now free to tell her story: she's part black from parentage in Jamaica, killed the son of the Jamaican government who tried to make her a slave and was taken to safety by Charles. She will go to Europe and seek a rich man, telling Richard to stay and marry Blair. Charles leaves the bulk of his fortune to Richard, with the stipulation that he manage Blair's money. With Richard and Blair now tied together by this condition, Richard wants to marry Blair, but she refuses. "It's just too late!"
Now that Richard is sole owner of Charles' oil company, he's invited join the robber barons on Good Friday, 1865, just as Lincoln is shot.
Fast forward to 1873. Richard is fabulously wealthy in his massive garish house, finding that money isn't enough for him. He wants power! So, he gets Harvey to buy a bunch of politicians. Speaking of politicians, his neighbors are Vic's family, with now-grown daughter Patty Duke.
Also grown are Richard's siblings. Katherine Crawford is first seen at confession, saying she wants to join a convent in Baltimore. Brother David Huffman, at Harvard, is bent on labor reform, pushing unionization on the workers, much to Richard's chagrin. Richard sees the irony in this: David is "weeping for the downtrodden" without "having worked a day in his life." He quips that he should have never left his siblings so long in the church. Unfortunately for David, he's caught in the middle of a labor battle where Richard's goons mow down a bunch of workers before being saved by Jenny Sullivan, a mine worker herself, who sends David to his brother to report on the heinous crime.
Joanna is dying, so she gets a deathbed scene with Richard. She had once asked Richard not to love her, but now she admits that she's loved him all along, and he admits the same. Geez, it only took a few decades! The conversation takes a creepy turn when Joanna tells Richard that her daughter Patty also loves him and she wants Richard to take her safely from obnoxious Vic's house and to marry her. It's one hell of a deathbed scene, full of halting whispered sentences delivered only with the light from a nearby fire. As soon as Richard agrees to marry Patty, Joanna dies peacefully.
Rather than actually grieve for his wife, Vic decides to lambaste Richard, accusing him of having an affair with his wife. The two have a gigantic fight, and of course old alkie Vic is no match for strapping Richard. Stopped from beating him to a pulp, Richard declares, "I won't kill him. I'll destroy him, and by God he'll wish I had killed him!" That makes for a great cliffhanger as the episode ends.
Vic chases Richard, who asks him for Patty's hand in marriage, which prompts Vic to think that it's Patty Richard has wanted all along. Richard doesn't bother correcting him.
His siblings are still proving a problem. Richard and David have a blowout over the labor issue, where David sounds like like any labor organizer of the 1870s, ending with the capper that he feels Richard made all of his money only for himself, not his siblings. Well, he may not be entirely wrong. After all, we do have a flawed hero here. It's possible Richard had his siblings in mind, but also himself. The argument ends with Richard cutting David out of his life and David vowing that he'll be a permanent thorn in his side over the labor issue, even from afar. Katherine has been listening to all of this while praying upstairs for the courage to leave Richard and join the convent. The causes Richard's second argument in ten minutes. If anyone else arrives, the poor man will lose his voice, not to mention he's fast running out of cliches (his siblings are so dull and I get the feeling the writers agree). "Sean can go to hell and you...can go to Jesus!" Richard bellows at the end of the argument, with Katherine playing herself on the floor. At least he ended on a grandiose note.
The problem of labor takes over for a while. The governor, the railroads and management gang up on the workers, with David and Jenny at the center of it. David is a fierce orator. He actually castigates the workers at a meeting for forming a mob because that "invites suppressive action from government." A different tactic is needed.
In 1880 and Patty, who knows she's stuck in a marriage springing from a deathbed promise, has given birth to four children, and now Patty's father Vic is marrying Blair. Not only does he think Blair is too good for Vic, but Richard has been keeping a dossier on the Senator that he intends to use at some point, to utterly destroy him. That might make his marriage a little uncomfortable. Harvey hopes to blunt this action by reminding Richard of this, but Richard says that what Patty thinks means absolutely nothing to him. Richard is becoming far more of a flawed hero.
Six months later, Richard's plan has worked so well that Vic is politically neutered and about to be destroyed financially because the government is demanding "recompense." Drunk as hell, Vic spews a whole speech at Richard, not knowing it's Richard who has ruined him, but he soon finds out! Vic pulls a gun and says he's going to make his daughter "a widow," but Richard is calm, even telling him to wait for a thunderclap in order to shoot so his daughter and grandchildren will never know. But Vic can't pull the trigger. Having thoroughly destroyed Vic, Richard literally tosses him out of the house into the violent storm.
David is sent to prison on a fake charge of inciting a gang of men to blow up a train and sentenced to hang. Jenny, baby in tow, begs David to contact Richard to help, but he refuses. So, she goes herself. Richard agrees to help only if Jenny agrees never to tell anyone he has done so. When Robert Vaughn wonders why Richard has not gone after the culprits of train bombing with more venom, he claims it's not because of his brother, but for his son. Why? Because he wants him to be the first Irish Catholic President (that does indeed sound familiar) and an uncle who was executed will not be a help. Robert retorts that "he has as much chance as little black Sambo." That's certainly laying it on the line. Richard and Robert even agree to marry their small children at some future date.
Vic dies in the gutter one rainy night (it always rains when he's around, have you noticed that?) and even President Garfield expresses his sympathy, introducing Richard to Senator Henry Fonda. He's a problem for the robber barons because he's pro-labor and apparently squeaky clean.
Things get ugly when, at the Capitol rotunda, Blair demands to see Richard. She knows everything Richard has done and she wants her money separated from Richard's, against the will of her father. Richard refuses anyway because in order to disentangle their money, he would lose money and that he refuses to do. Blair picks this moment to tell Richard that the baby of the dead fake husband was actually Vic's. "It seems we all wasted our best years...without love," Richard tells Blair before grabbing her and marching her upstairs to the bedroom. He's always wanted her and now his reasons for not having her have all disappeared.
Richard wants to marry Blair but she knows of his plans to put his son in the White House and she's fine being his mistress so as not to ruin those plans. "For the first time, everything is as it should be," she says before doing what all miniseries lovers do, placing her head on his chest.
An intimate dinner is thrown by Richard for just himself and Senator Henry Fonda. Richard oozes charm at first, but Henry wants honesty, so they hash out the issues. Henry has a bill in Congress that will help even the poorest workers by outlawing foreign workers. Richard and his gang want the foreign labor because they come damn cheap. Henry notes that Richard is attempting to bribe him, which Richard knows he can't prove, and Henry has had enough. But, Richard has a surprise waiting and calls in Harvey. He brings a bunch of documents that would ruin Henry. The big secret? Henry had a mulatto grandmother. It's 1881 and that still carries some weight. Henry nails this scene, his usual understated acting style a virtue in handling the character's conflicts.
Once Henry leaves, Richard burns the documents, his only hold over Henry, much to the admiration of Harvey, but events may have gone too far already. Henry leaves a note at the hotel desk that he plans to kill himself and leave that curse hanging over Richard's head forever. That's a delicious plot twist. Yes, we could see it coming by Henry's demeanor, but watching it unfold is great TV.
Wifey Patty has had Richard followed by a detective, who says Richard is completely faithful, except for "the party." "Stop calling her a party. It sounds positively festive," Patty snaps. When she finds out it's Blair, she's calm and actually offers the detective a new job. She's figured out that Blair's son is actually Vic's. She wants her detective to find out the truth she already knows, this time with physical proof. Patty races off to Blair's house for the showdown. In no uncertain terms, Patty wants the affair to end, but Blair refuses, so Patty pulls out the evidence. However, Blair doesn't give Patty the reaction she was hoping for. Blair doesn't care if the truth comes out: she'll help put it out there! She was only holding it back while Vic was alive. What does it matter now? No wonder Patty won an Emmy for this performance. She's sensational here. She goes from calm and definitive to wild and angry with a slow build and then to utter devastation when foiled. By the end she's begging Blair not to tell Richard any of this because she "fears his hate" more than anything. It's a gorgeous performance and a great way to handle plotting.
In 1892, Richard's son has grown into Perry King. At the theater, Richard tries to push Perry into Robert Vaughn's daughter Cynthia Syke's arms, but Perry likes to squire around many women and doesn't want the unintelligent Terry.
When Richard gets home, he finds Patty drunk. It seems she's degenerated into an alcoholic worse than her father. The showdown with Blair has completely undone her and forced her into this depraved lifestyle. She hisses at Robert that he's using his son to get back at the world for treating him badly as a child and ignoring his other kids. She begs him to hit her. "It's the first time you'll have touched me since you started sleeping with my S...T...E...P...M...O...T...H...E...R!"
Perry is about to be kicked out of school for fighting and this angers Richard, who threatens to fight back by blackmailing the other kid's father, who was forced to drop out of a campaign for cloudy reasons. He dispatches Harvey to Mayor Burl Ives' house to find out the dirt (a homosexual liaison) and gluttonous Burl is happy to oblige. The plan, naturally, works.
As for Perry, he's infatuated with a Vassar girl...wait for it...she's here...Jane Seymour! Yup, she's here, gracing this story with her presence! With the help of his relative Terry Kiser (Blair's son), he meets her in an ice cream shop where she's on a date with another man. Perry refuses to leave and Jane's date's friends gang up on him. He leaves, but he's just beginning his assault on Jane's attentions. It's working during a Romeo and Juliet-like balcony scene when the thugs from the ice cream shop beat him up. They douse him in alcohol and hang a sign around his neck: NO IRISH.
Though Perry wants no immediate revenge, his brother Doug Heyes doesn't see it like that and beats the hell out of Jane's other suitor. Perry is still infatuated with Jane, who is definitely cracking under the full weight of his charm. The biggest problem is that Jane is Protestant and Perry is Catholic. As violins suddenly spring up on the soundtrack, Jane tells Perry that she can't disobey his father, that he's confined to a wheelchair and needs her. But, Perry is tough and they two make out on the grass as Jane confesses her love.
And who should be playing Jane's papa but John Houseman? A miniseries regular, he and Jane missed out on working together in the Herman Wouk pieces, with Houseman in "Winds of War," replaced by John Gielgud in "War and Remembrance," while Jane took over Ali McGraw's role for the latter. In his spitting venomously way of speaking, John spells out all the reasons he hates the whole Armagh family (father cheats, son is a "libertine"). He then has a convenient attack of whatever ails him and then lays the guilt on thick. "If you choose to to be seen with this Rory Armagh (Perry King), you've seen the last of me...in the little time I have left." Are we sure he's not playing a Jewish mother? Even an Italian mother?
Perry has to break the news to his father too. Richard is thrilled, only because he assumes it's an affair and won't last. He can't countenance an actual marriage because Catholicism doesn't allow for divorce should Perry grow tired of her, but that's not the worst of it. He tells of Jane's religion, and Richard explodes in a tirade worthy of his long-gone mentor, Charles Durning. He tries to make Perry understand that it's only a select group of men who control the entire world, but Perry doesn't buy it (I guess he hadn't watched the previous five episodes). "They exist. I know, because I'm one of them! And you will be too. And those men will make you President!" Richard yells, but only if he marries a Catholic.
In 1896, Perry graduates and they commemorate the occasion with some photographs on the lawn. Everyone is present except sister Ann Dusenberry, who is in love with Perry's pal Terry Kiser, making out when Perry goes to find them. They want to get married, but that presents a problem because they are blood relatives. No one but Richard and Patty know (which is why Patty hates him), but not Perry does. Richard breaks the news to Terry, who races off to find Ann, dashing off to tell Patty about the impending nuptials. Fate intervenes, as it always does in these situations, and before she can tell Patty, she is thrown from her horse and falls. As good at "Captains and the Kings" is, it's still a soap opera, and these helpful twists of fate have a way of settling difficult situations. Everyone waits for Ann to return, but she doesn't and by nightfall, they are worried and go looking for her. Terry finds her alive, but barely.
Something has happened to her. She's awake, eyes open and such, but she does not understand, cannot comm...okay, I'll say it...she has brain damage! This part does in fact reek of the Kennedy curse, in the form of a Rosemary stand-in. Patty, in a full rage, wants Blair and Terry out of the house, but they leave only after Terry lets loose a little bile in Richard's direction. He's always liked Richard, but now he hates him as much as he hates Patty. Before leaving, Terry demands some alone with Ann to tell her he's leaving, not that she comprehends. Richard and Patty take Ann to the best specialists in Europe, but no one can help. Perry tries to gloss over it by noting Patty gets to spend time alone with Richard as she's always wanted.
Harvey sums up a few plots for us, just because they have been dangling: Richard's siblings are still alive and Kathleen even writes twice a month, though Harvey hides the letters. And Harvey's own beloved Beverly has died.
Perry and Jane get married by a Justice of the Peace and head right to bed while the Justice's wife realizes who Perry is and formulates a plan in her mind due to Richard's wealth.
London, 1897. Cantankerous Patty and Richard are at a hotel, where Patty annoys the staff, but Richard is only excited that Robert Vaughn has been appointed Ambassador to the Court of St. James, which means the marriage between Perry and his daughter will be even more important. Oh, and then there's a letter in the same packet from the Justice of the Peace.
Neither father nor son brings up the marriage when Perry arrives in London. Instead, Richard takes Perry to meet the men who rule the world, telling him it may be the most important night of his life.
Perry goes to the meeting and it's downright bizarre. It literally is a collection of accents, men who run the world, or at least they think they do. If we thought Richard was getting too evil, we now have TRUE evil to make him look a little better (though he's one of them, he says he doesn't like them). Just as Perry is about to tell Richard he is married to Jane, when Richard tells him of his plans, $20 million the day he marries Robert Vaughn's daughter. If he does not marry the girl, he's cut out of dad's will and dad's life. Perry chickens out and doesn't tell him (although he already knows).
Back in NYC, and back in bed, because that's where they exist, Perry admits he didn't tell his father about Jane, but that he will stay married to her and his father can make one of his brothers President. The world then gets in the way when the Spanish-American War breaks out and Perry realizes the men in London made it happen.
When Richard returns to Philadelphia, he takes his anger at the marriage out on Harvey, whom he accuses of disloyalty and everything thing else he can think of. An impassioned speech of eternal devotion brings Richard back down to earth and he forgives Harvey. Besides, he has a plan already to "destroy" the marriage.
Perry and brother Doug argue about what the war means right before a montage of Teddy Roosevelt and Bill McKinley disagree about what to do with the war. Roosevelt wins out and McKinley declares war. Doug even joins Teddy's Rough Riders. Somehow the only solution to bring him back is for Perry to go after him. I could think of about 15 reasons right now that might work better, but so be the vagaries of plot.
Have you been missing Patty Duke? She's losing it, sort of mad, sort of drunk, sort of guilty at Ann's side. Ann is still in the same medical state, and Patty tells her a fairy tale that ends with self-recrimination. They aren't part of the plot much anymore, but Patty is still acting up a storm.
Two different wars are juxtaposed in quick alternating scenes. The first is the war in Cuba, with Perry hunting down his brother. The other is Richard going to John Houseman's office to discuss their children. John his aides he expects to melt Richard's gruff exterior, but if not, he will ring his bell and they will take him forcibly. Uh huh, two old men against Richard. Richard has the upper hand because he knows of the marriage. Judge John is aghast when he finds out Richard has destroyed all records of the marriage, having paid off the Justice of the Peace and the County Clerk. Furthermore, he's forged notes and had a handwriting expert pen them in Perry and Jane's handwriting ending the marriage. To sweeten the pot and get John to go along with it, he'll pay John $10K a month.
In Cuba, Perry looks very sexy in a shirt ripped in all the places to show off his body to maximum effect as he is forced to take up a gun and look for Doug. It takes a while, but he finds his brother, mortally wounded so badly that Perry has to lie to him and tell him the Rough Riders have won the battle, which is far from the truth. Watch Perry as he listens to Doug's patriotic speech about fighting for one's country. He looks like he's going to laugh the whole time. It is over-written to say the least, the kind that makes you want to rush to your closet and dig out that flag you've been saving for the front lawn. Doug dies right after giving the speech, cradled in his brothers arms.
When Richard goes to tell Patty about Doug, she is asleep in bed, clutching a glass. He happily fills it for her because she's going to need it. Before he can tell her about Doug, she admits to having told Ann about Terry (causing her to race out and get herself injured), but Richard forgives that quickly in order to deliver the really bad news. Patty flies into a rage and then crouches on the ground, wide-eyed, talking of a curse on her family: father, daughter, son...at least for now. Patty and Ann are packed off to a nut house and Perry brings back Doug's body for burial.
Perry dashes over to find Jane, but only finds the note his father has planted. It's a doozie, saying she had to leave him and is off to travel with her father. Perry goes on a binge that ends him up in Chicago where a local thief and hooker snatch his wallet, but realize he's the nephew of labor leader Uncle David. So, they call him and David tries to talk sense into his nephew. Perry goes home, admitting defeat to his father. He will marry Robert Vaughn's daughter, collect the $20 million and become President.
It's 1910 and Richard wants Perry to be President in 1912. He's been a dithering Congressman, so Richard wants the governor, whom he pays, to appoint Perry a senator (in the days before senators were directly elected). Marriage to Cynthia has produced some heirs, so everyone has done their duties. Perry does everything asked of him by the men in power, bending their way to kill bills in Congress he believes in.
Then there is brother Cliff DeYoung, up to now ignored. He's a wastrel, flying planes and thinking of selling them to armies should a war come. He even has a movie star girlfriend and a movie studio. She's a ditz. "I cried at my own acting," she proudly says. "So did I," he says sarcastically.
Sorry to end Cliff's mirth, but Richard has had a heart attack. Not expected to live, he's defying the odds and even firing doctors. The dream of Perry being President is not dying with Richard. Cliff is his campaign manager and they bring all their cronies together to buy votes across the country. "And send me the bill," Perry says. Handsome and excitable, Perry is an ideal candidate, with his father reading every paper praising his son from his bed. Not everyone is happy, though. Protestant preachers and the KKK aren't happy. Hell, the KKK does their whole cross burning thing on Richard's lawn.
The campaign goes very well. It has some bumps, some people within his own party who don't like him, but the juggernaut rolls on. And then Jane Seymour calls out of nowhere. Perry dashes off to see her and they fall into each other's arms (and onto the floor) the minute she opens the door. On his deathbed, her father admitted all he had done. They confess eternal love to each other, but Cliff has to find a way to figure this all out.
Blair Brown is dying. She and Richard have stayed apart ever since Ann's accident, but since she is dying, maybe it's time. Harvey is dispatched to see how she is. Other than some bad putty wrinkles and make-up, she looks pretty damn good! The doctor has given her a sedative, so she has to sleep, but she invites Harvey back in a week to "talk all day." Uh oh, don't put timing on it, because that makes it a sure thing she'll be gone in a week. On his way out, Harvey finds a letter that Blair has written but never intended to send, one last love letter. Indeed, Blair croaks four hours after Harvey left.
As Cliff runs around buying votes for Perry, Harvey tells Richard he wants to retire. "Was it something I did...or didn't do?" Richard asks of his one true friend, the only person he really trusts. As a parting gift, he gives Richard his sister's letters that Richard thought were destroyed. Harvey intends to travel the world and be back in time to vote for Perry.
Uh oh. The men in power have decided they want Woodrow Wilson to be President, with Perry as Vice President, still promising to make him President, but not until 1920. The men have decided a war is necessary in the coming years and Wilson is the best man to handle it. This is all rather a nasty plot twist to characters we have come to love, undermining the dream Richard has had for so many years, as good or bad as he may be.
Uncle David gets a surprise when Richard shows up at his house. His wife decides to tell him the truth about how Richard saved him all those years ago, so he agrees to see Richard. This is the first time Richard has appeared timid and tentative, even afraid. There is some power missing from the scene because David was never given a fully developed characterization. Anyway, the reason he's there is to ask his brother's help in winning the election for his son, having to fight against the men in power. This whole scene serves to redeem Richard's character one last time. No longer a member of the evil boy's club, he wants to what he's always wanted now based on merit. Richard tells Perry the men have dropped him and Perry is thrilled, because he has wanted to smash them. Unfortunately, Robert Vaughn has been listening to the whole conversation on a phone extension, so things are going to end badly.
Okay, with only moments to go in the movie, we get a plot twist we did not expect and one that is, frankly, damn annoying. The Titanic sinks with Harvey on it. Come on, is that REALLY necessary? Fine, I understand that Harvey needs to pay for his sins just as much as anyone, but on the Titanic? That's historical fiction at its dumbest.
I hate to bring this up, folks, but with Perry running as an idealist, suddenly on the opposite side of the men in power, he has to die. A story like this demands it. During a campaign stop, he is shot and dies, but at least in Jane's arms. Where else is Richard to turn but to Patty, calling herself "confused," but completely bonkers. She's been paying for her sins for way too long. Richard is just starting. He even invites Jane to mourn with him at the funeral. She tells Richard how much Perry loved him and he starts to cry, not having really understood it all these years. The funeral is an odd assortment: Richard, his nun sister, both of Perry's wives and even Robert Vaughn, who had him killed.
Humbled and broken (we assume that Cliff dies in an airplane accident), Richard sits in a chair in his great mansion, having lost everyone and everything that should have mattered to him as he spend his life racing for power and money.
If the last episode of the miniseries is a bit too sentimental, a completely change of tone from the rest, it's to be expected. People do have to pay for the things they want most, and in this case, it's not payment in money, but in lives. That's a lofty idea, one we might not have expected television to tackle in the 1970s. But here it is and it's splendid.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
A Woman Scorned: The Betty Broderick Story AND Her Final Fury: Betty Broderick, The Last Chapter (1992)
That's right folks, a double-header! You can't watch one without the other, so put together, these two make a miniseries. Plus, it has to be in the top ten most played on the Lifetime network (if only Tori Spelling had made a sequel to "Mother May I Sleep With Danger?" we could be talking about her too) and it's too much fun to ignore.
It's a true story, that of Betty Broderick, a woman who killed her husband after he left her for another woman. I don't know Betty Broderick personally so I can't speak of her personality, but somewhere very soon into the movie, it stops being about Betty and starts being about Meredith Baxter's performance. Good? Not really. Insanely watchable? You bet! Meredith goes over the top and then more in her grab for role of a lifetime. The goes so far that one actually sympathizes with the dead characters for not having to deal with her anymore. In saying that, I'm not worried that should Betty Broderick ever be released from prison she'll come after me, but I am worried that Meredith Baxter might hunt me down if I weren't so absolutely sure she's damn proud of her work here. She's having a whale of a time as Betty Broderick!
Things start out as perfectly as possible. Betty is a soccer mom, literally, with shoulder pads and mom jeans, cheering on her kid as he scores the winning goal. Hubby Dan (Steven Collins, always dying in a miniseries) is a successful and they were "euphoric" with all the money they had. All the perks of being rich. The kind of rich that goes to fancy balls and buys friends trips to Paris at the spur of the moment, which doesn't sit well with Betty. "Dan, that's my manicure day," she says, getting nervous laughter from her friends, but pissed as hell that wasn't told. "You act like royalty or something. It's irritating as hell," she snaps. Yeah, trips to Paris are so awful!
Betty has to take over Boy Scout duties from Dan, who is on the phone with a call for ages. She tells the kids a scary ghost story that seems a bit too real. Yup, nine minutes in and she's losing it. And Dan has to sleep on the couch because of it.
At a St. Patrick's Day office party, Dan notices the new receptionist and Betty notices him noticing. That is immediately followed by a scene of Betty staring into the mirror without make-up, looking particularly haggard. Hey, at least the movie is efficient! On a ski trip, the husband and wife carp at each other, but Betty gets all the better jabs. Her children even mouth the argument along with them because it's become so routine.
The family is forced to move into a rental as their house is under construction, and Betty seems happy enough to manage that, but Dan has hired Linda to be his personal secretary (Michelle Johnson).
Betty shows up at Dan's office, decked out in a red suit, black and white shoes, champagne and glasses, only to be told by the secretary that Dan and Linda are out. "It's his birthday," she chirps. Betty shoots her a withering glance and then goes into his office to find it done up for a big birthday celebration. When he comes home in his little red sportscar, Betty at first plays it cool. For a minute. "Who goes to lunch for seven hours...and with a 19-year old whore to boot," she rails. And from there it's an attack, out on the street no less.
Then comes the moment where Meredith tears into the role, unhinged and uncaring. Right there on the lawn, kids watching, she burns all of his clothing, whispering "liar, liar, pants on fire." Dan jokes it off with his brother, concentrating on his golf game while his brother tries to tell him she's cukoo.
Loyal secretary Alice (Debra Jo Rupp) confronts Dan about Linda zooming up in the company, making more than poor Alice. Alice doesn't buy Dan's explanation and quits. She leaves him with a monologue about treating people better that is nice and succinct. Take a lesson, Betts. She doesn't. For Christmas, Dan buys Betty a gorgeous piece of jewelry, not the one she wanted, one he liked better. "You like it better?...It's not the one I asked for, so it's a piece of crap!" she howls and stalks off.
Dan invites Betty to a formal lunch, where she immediately launches into him. She can't understand why they have to meet somewhere, but she doesn't know he's about to leave her. He says he's moving out, which comes as a complete shock to self-absorbed Betty, as wide-eyed as Manson and as sarcastic as Wolocott. You see, she believes SHE is the key to their success. She wants him to stay, "because you owe me." She stalks off, telling him he's selfish. She has a point. He's not perfect, that's for sure.
Then it gets bad! She drops off one of the kids at his house when he's not even there. She did it on purpose, to make him realize what it's like to raise kids. Step two in her plan is to buy a brand new house. "Ultimately, what turns him on is status," she says, and bi-polar Betty thinks she's going to win him back. Those two steps don't exactly make any sense, to us at least.
Betty pays a surprise visit to Dan's house whenhe's not there, telling the kids he's a lousy parent and then cuts up his bedroom before leaving, smearing it with the cake Linda made. That's the final straw. She gets served with divorce papers.
With a shaky cam, meaning lunacy, Betty tears over to Dan's house, screaming from the outside before breaking in. And taking out her frustration on the house with a bottle of spray and a holy hell temper. This earns her a restraining order, but that doesn't penetrate Betty's mind. "All I want to know is if we can nail this guy in court," she bellows to her lawyer, who isn't "excited" enough for Betty. Cancel that lawyer!
Betty refuses to sell the house for the money Dan agrees to. Dan has a legal maneuver ready to combat it. He's a little on edge, telling his daughter not to come home from a date because she's pissed at having to spend a holiday with his new girlfriend (finally, he's doing Linda). Betty has a new man and can't find a lawyer because word is out that she's crazy and that he's a famous lawyer. So, she leaves a message on his machine full of ire. "You think you can just ignore me? You can't? I will not be ignored!"
When Betty finds out he sold the house, she's furious, violating the restraining order and showing up at his house in gold flats. Even the kids are scared this time. The wrath of Betty is fully unleashed. She drives her gigantic van into the house. Over and over and over again. Dan and Betty fight on the lawn until the police arrive and she's arrested, scratching and clawing about the power men have over women. Oh, it's a corker, and Meredith mines every last drop of venom out of it.
Just so we have SOME sympathy for Betty, she's given a tearful speech in prison. It doesn't work. That is not Meredith's forte. Keep the kiddies away when Betty's Christmas lights don't work. She goes over to Dan's and breaks in. When her daughter comes in unexpectedly, she asks, "is there anything under this tree for me?" and then goes on a tear through the presents, breaking one and injuring her daughter. "I'm sorry. I just love you all so much." Uh huh.
Betty is no less together in court. She can't keep her mouth shut, snapping at the judge that she has no rights in "Mother Russia." She feels that he controls the whole law system and she loses. Loses all custody, all visitation rights.
Working at an art gallery, Betty phones a friend to take her out, but it seems all of their friends have taken Dan's side. She leaves more nasty messages attacking the girlfriend, but the little son hears the expletive-fed message and tells her to knock it off. Even he's ashamed for her. She calls him a traitor. "Who put you up to this? The slut or the traitor?" she's yelling as he drops the phone. Worst for her is that Linda has slipped very comfortably into her life, even going to the costume parties they used to go to (the first scene is repeated, but with Linda, but this time everyone is happy). Betty tells the kids that when Dan and Linda are married, he will disown them and forget about them. She's not above using the kids as pawns. Dan tells the kids in the next scene that he's hoping his new marriage brings everyone stability.
Not likely, since Betty hotfoots it off to buy a gun, which she takes to very easily. In one of her Japanese night outfits that she loves so much, with the gold shoes, she leaves him umpteen messages until he finally picks up. Dan decides to make her pay, taking money away from the alimony every time she curses, comes over or takes the kids. That leaves her about $15K in the hole after one month. Betty ruins the daughter's graduation by following Linda around with her camera like a cracked paparazzo.
Betty steals Dan and Linda's wedding list, which sends them back to court. She fully admits that she stole it, but doesn't have it. So, the judge takes away her alimony. A suddenly stupid Linda breaks into Betty's house to get the list back and finds Betty is obsessed with her, even making up Christmas cards that have pictures of her and Linda, saying "Don't we look alike?" Betty has penned an autobiography, which Linda brings to Dan, still too gooey to do anything about it. He doesn't want Linda ruining her "credibility" by having proven she's broken into Betty's house. Betty still has the list, calling everyone on it and begging them not to go.
Dan and Linda have to have security guards at their wedding and Dan's brother wants him to wear a bullet-proof vest under his tuxedo! Everyone in town has Betty's number. The costume designer of this movie fails us once again as Linda is given the ugliest wedding dress (with a bandana no less). Luckily, they make it through the wedding day without incident, "guarded" by a friend, though she does say that it was the worst day of her life. That one? The day she rammed the car through the house was less bad?
Betty's best friend (her only friend) tries to get her to move on in an impassioned speech ("you're cultured, you're funnier than any two comedians I know"--boy, that's heavy praise), but she's rewarded with a tantrum and exits. Following are zigzagging scenes of Dan's happiness and Betty's misery. We get it.
In a funk (maybe for sympathy?), she heads on over to Dan's in the middle of the night, sneaks in quietly and mows them down. She didn't seem to want to do it until Linda opened her eyes, and then she had to fire the whole gun. Dan, still alive, reaches for the gun, but she grabs it from him and leaves. As the sun rises, she makes a call and admits it. In prison, she says she intended to kill herself in front of them. "I have regrets, but no remorse. I regret that my husband had no character, that my kids lost their mother and stability," she reports, "happy to be locked up in this dark little world where no one can get me." She will be eligible for parole in 2010.
So ends the first part. "Her Final Fury" actually shows us the killing again, picking up with her phone call to daughter Kate (Kelli Williams) confessing. The kids are a mess when friends come to tell them, but Kate tries to calm her down. Get this, as they do it, she apologizes to them. "I hope you didn't have anything special planned." Um? What? Didn't she just murder their father? Hell, the one even cradles her as she vomits in the toilet. Betty snaps to and has the presence of mind to write up a will and check for $10K to divide among the kids. She even takes off her jewelry. This is an awfully calm woman, a woman who has apprently had time to do her hair. Then it's off to jail, where she looks comfy in a sweatsuit, not at all scared.
Kerry Wells (Judith Ivey) is the District Attorney assigned to the case, told by her boss it's a clear cut case, "now you have to prove it." What's to prove? Betty's defense is that Dan took everything from her, that she couldn't get a fair shake from the whole town's legal system. Sorry? Not at all. Now we have Meredith the calm-about-to-let-loose nutball. She loved her rage throughout the first movie, but now we have a new Betty. However, Kerry's job isn't so clear-cut because Betty is seen as a victim by women's groups and has some sympathy building in her favor.
One of Betty's sons asks Kerry "will my mom be out in time to see my soccer game?" That pretty much shuts down her attempt to question them. Maybe her kids are as out of touch as she is! On her side, Betty has had to fire "one incompetent lawyer" she threatens her second one. They go to a bail hearing, where the judge wisely denies Betty bail. "I'd rather have her be my lawyer," Betty snarls at her lawyer, referring to Kerry.
Betty takes to the press, hiring a PR firm to defend her reputation. "When did you last see your children?" a reporter asks her. "Just before I checked in here," she chirps, as if he's having voluntary plastic surgery. We get Meredith-in-a-haze Betty again as she tells the stories, but boy does she tell her story, over and over and over, on any phone she can find in prison. She feels no lawyer can defend her, so she files to defend herself, not a bad plea for sympathy, but eventually she gets a darn good lawyer.
Talking to the prison shrink, she is asked bluntly if she sees the implications of her acts, and she doesn't see it at all. She is only the victim. Her friend comes to prison to tell her she's the topic at every party, at the hairdresser, in the checkout line. "It's be nice to your ex-wife week," she even jokes. Betty is thrilled! She gets mail from all over the world, women cheering her on. Prison seems downright fun. She won't put on a wristband because everyone knows who she is, she's so popular. "I don't need a wristband, I need a secretary." Oh, our Meredith is flipping her lid again, just in a different direction. No matter which kind of crazy Meredith goes, she's oh-so-lovable!
One of the kids tries to yank the movie away from his on-screen mother by blaming himself and crying for Kerry. That will not be allowed for long! It's back to Betty and her friend, discussing which outfit she'll wear. "Maybe being dressed as a human being again will make me feel like one again," she says before it's time to go back to her cell. On the prison bus to court, she alone is dressed in designer apparel, her hair done, jewels in place. Everyone else looks like...well, a prisoner.
What actress doesn't dream of a trial scene? Both here, because Judith Ivey is going to work her considerably talent raw trying to win the day from our Meredith. Betty's lawyer gets at least some of the women on the jury to sympathize early on with some corny theatrics. But Judith comes back with Betty's old friends who portray her as materialistic and vain. Back and forth the witnesses go, pro-Betty, anti-Betty. Daughter Kate gives some pretty damning evidence about how Betty stole her keys to Dan's house and pretended to help her look for them all over the place.
When it's Betty's turn to take the stand, she's rational and has an excuse for every check ever written. She's not a spendthrift, she's just supporting a family. Even when Kerry brings up the vandalization, Betty is calm. For her defense, she claims that he was verbally abusive, that she didn't please him, that she was fat, boring, etc. "I tried to get rid of wrinkles that weren't even there," she bawls, pulling out all the sympathy acting, and they are buying it! But, talking to her lawyer, she's full of anger at the prison system. Still the victim, she's angry at the jury for taking so long! As if Kerry isn't clear on the case, she has a poster on the wall, a picture of a casket that says, "He beat her 150 times and she only got flowers once." Ouch!
The jury is deadlocked (and a male is the holdout, telling the press "I don't know what took her so long"). The judge has to declare a mistrial and we have to go through it again. Betty is overjoyed; Judith, not so much, though she decides to work the second trial.
Back in prison, Betty has a showdown with the guard who has wanted her to wear a wristband. Go, Meredith, back to crackpot Betty, the screaming harpy! We missed you!
Meet Natalie Parker, she's the reporter who wants to celebrate Betty in the press. As her friend tells Natalie, "maybe the next Dan Broderick will think twice." Then Betty gets to spew her famous tirade again, about how the legal system did her wrong, the bifurcation order ("where the man gets to screw his wife and her girlfriend at the same time") and her other favorite topics. She's mighty proud of herself.
Steel yourself. Betty has a fight with a fellow prisoner (actually, the other woman causes it). When the guards come for Betty, she refuses to go and it takes a small army of them to pull her out, with one officer recording it for posterity. First a trial, then a prison fight scene? Is there nothing our Meredith can't handle channeling Betty? The footage makes it to TV (where of course, her kids see it).
Now the problem is what Kate should do, testify against her mother, who has threatened to kill her, or skulk away? She gets on the stand and has sudden amnesia about her previous testimony and this isn't good for mom. Kelli goes all cry-cry-cry on the stand, but she's out of her league. No one can trump our Meredith, and Judith has stopped trying, merely doing journeyman work to get it over with. A shrink diagnoses Betty with narcissistic personality disorder. Wait, that took nearly two movies? We knew that from the third or fourth scene all the way back in the first movie. The doctor also says she's never been suicidal, only homicidal.
After Betty is refused a trip to the infirmary to touch up her roots, she gets to testify again. She's just as ornery as ever, but Kerry is smarter this time, doing her best to rile Betty, rather than let her hold the cards. Judith gets back in fighting form, but still holds back a bit. This really could be a grudge match, but hey, it's Meredith's movie. Kerry picks apart all of the differences in testimony, debunking Betty's suicide theory. Betty gets so confused that it's all over for her in a few moments. Don't get me wrong, Betty doesn't cower. She keeps saying "it was my impression," rather than admitting what happened, but Kerry is too smart for that and tears apart the testimony. After Kerry crushes her, she asks, "why didn't you kill yourself?" "There were no bullets left!!!!!" Betty rails, making it oh so much worse for herself. Her own testimony damns her to a guilty verdict.
Meredith Baxter has had a long and distinguised career, both before 1992 and after 1992, but I'm afraid she will always be Betty Broderick. I say "afraid," becuase I actually fear she BECAME Betty and every performance since (anyone see the remake of "Murder on the Orient Express"?) has had some Betty in it. Perhaps when Betty is released from prison, there will be a third story, and we can dig up Meredith to make it work. I can only hope.
It's a true story, that of Betty Broderick, a woman who killed her husband after he left her for another woman. I don't know Betty Broderick personally so I can't speak of her personality, but somewhere very soon into the movie, it stops being about Betty and starts being about Meredith Baxter's performance. Good? Not really. Insanely watchable? You bet! Meredith goes over the top and then more in her grab for role of a lifetime. The goes so far that one actually sympathizes with the dead characters for not having to deal with her anymore. In saying that, I'm not worried that should Betty Broderick ever be released from prison she'll come after me, but I am worried that Meredith Baxter might hunt me down if I weren't so absolutely sure she's damn proud of her work here. She's having a whale of a time as Betty Broderick!
Things start out as perfectly as possible. Betty is a soccer mom, literally, with shoulder pads and mom jeans, cheering on her kid as he scores the winning goal. Hubby Dan (Steven Collins, always dying in a miniseries) is a successful and they were "euphoric" with all the money they had. All the perks of being rich. The kind of rich that goes to fancy balls and buys friends trips to Paris at the spur of the moment, which doesn't sit well with Betty. "Dan, that's my manicure day," she says, getting nervous laughter from her friends, but pissed as hell that wasn't told. "You act like royalty or something. It's irritating as hell," she snaps. Yeah, trips to Paris are so awful!
Betty has to take over Boy Scout duties from Dan, who is on the phone with a call for ages. She tells the kids a scary ghost story that seems a bit too real. Yup, nine minutes in and she's losing it. And Dan has to sleep on the couch because of it.
At a St. Patrick's Day office party, Dan notices the new receptionist and Betty notices him noticing. That is immediately followed by a scene of Betty staring into the mirror without make-up, looking particularly haggard. Hey, at least the movie is efficient! On a ski trip, the husband and wife carp at each other, but Betty gets all the better jabs. Her children even mouth the argument along with them because it's become so routine.
The family is forced to move into a rental as their house is under construction, and Betty seems happy enough to manage that, but Dan has hired Linda to be his personal secretary (Michelle Johnson).
Betty shows up at Dan's office, decked out in a red suit, black and white shoes, champagne and glasses, only to be told by the secretary that Dan and Linda are out. "It's his birthday," she chirps. Betty shoots her a withering glance and then goes into his office to find it done up for a big birthday celebration. When he comes home in his little red sportscar, Betty at first plays it cool. For a minute. "Who goes to lunch for seven hours...and with a 19-year old whore to boot," she rails. And from there it's an attack, out on the street no less.
Then comes the moment where Meredith tears into the role, unhinged and uncaring. Right there on the lawn, kids watching, she burns all of his clothing, whispering "liar, liar, pants on fire." Dan jokes it off with his brother, concentrating on his golf game while his brother tries to tell him she's cukoo.
Loyal secretary Alice (Debra Jo Rupp) confronts Dan about Linda zooming up in the company, making more than poor Alice. Alice doesn't buy Dan's explanation and quits. She leaves him with a monologue about treating people better that is nice and succinct. Take a lesson, Betts. She doesn't. For Christmas, Dan buys Betty a gorgeous piece of jewelry, not the one she wanted, one he liked better. "You like it better?...It's not the one I asked for, so it's a piece of crap!" she howls and stalks off.
Dan invites Betty to a formal lunch, where she immediately launches into him. She can't understand why they have to meet somewhere, but she doesn't know he's about to leave her. He says he's moving out, which comes as a complete shock to self-absorbed Betty, as wide-eyed as Manson and as sarcastic as Wolocott. You see, she believes SHE is the key to their success. She wants him to stay, "because you owe me." She stalks off, telling him he's selfish. She has a point. He's not perfect, that's for sure.
Then it gets bad! She drops off one of the kids at his house when he's not even there. She did it on purpose, to make him realize what it's like to raise kids. Step two in her plan is to buy a brand new house. "Ultimately, what turns him on is status," she says, and bi-polar Betty thinks she's going to win him back. Those two steps don't exactly make any sense, to us at least.
Betty pays a surprise visit to Dan's house whenhe's not there, telling the kids he's a lousy parent and then cuts up his bedroom before leaving, smearing it with the cake Linda made. That's the final straw. She gets served with divorce papers.
With a shaky cam, meaning lunacy, Betty tears over to Dan's house, screaming from the outside before breaking in. And taking out her frustration on the house with a bottle of spray and a holy hell temper. This earns her a restraining order, but that doesn't penetrate Betty's mind. "All I want to know is if we can nail this guy in court," she bellows to her lawyer, who isn't "excited" enough for Betty. Cancel that lawyer!
Betty refuses to sell the house for the money Dan agrees to. Dan has a legal maneuver ready to combat it. He's a little on edge, telling his daughter not to come home from a date because she's pissed at having to spend a holiday with his new girlfriend (finally, he's doing Linda). Betty has a new man and can't find a lawyer because word is out that she's crazy and that he's a famous lawyer. So, she leaves a message on his machine full of ire. "You think you can just ignore me? You can't? I will not be ignored!"
When Betty finds out he sold the house, she's furious, violating the restraining order and showing up at his house in gold flats. Even the kids are scared this time. The wrath of Betty is fully unleashed. She drives her gigantic van into the house. Over and over and over again. Dan and Betty fight on the lawn until the police arrive and she's arrested, scratching and clawing about the power men have over women. Oh, it's a corker, and Meredith mines every last drop of venom out of it.
Just so we have SOME sympathy for Betty, she's given a tearful speech in prison. It doesn't work. That is not Meredith's forte. Keep the kiddies away when Betty's Christmas lights don't work. She goes over to Dan's and breaks in. When her daughter comes in unexpectedly, she asks, "is there anything under this tree for me?" and then goes on a tear through the presents, breaking one and injuring her daughter. "I'm sorry. I just love you all so much." Uh huh.
Betty is no less together in court. She can't keep her mouth shut, snapping at the judge that she has no rights in "Mother Russia." She feels that he controls the whole law system and she loses. Loses all custody, all visitation rights.
Working at an art gallery, Betty phones a friend to take her out, but it seems all of their friends have taken Dan's side. She leaves more nasty messages attacking the girlfriend, but the little son hears the expletive-fed message and tells her to knock it off. Even he's ashamed for her. She calls him a traitor. "Who put you up to this? The slut or the traitor?" she's yelling as he drops the phone. Worst for her is that Linda has slipped very comfortably into her life, even going to the costume parties they used to go to (the first scene is repeated, but with Linda, but this time everyone is happy). Betty tells the kids that when Dan and Linda are married, he will disown them and forget about them. She's not above using the kids as pawns. Dan tells the kids in the next scene that he's hoping his new marriage brings everyone stability.
Not likely, since Betty hotfoots it off to buy a gun, which she takes to very easily. In one of her Japanese night outfits that she loves so much, with the gold shoes, she leaves him umpteen messages until he finally picks up. Dan decides to make her pay, taking money away from the alimony every time she curses, comes over or takes the kids. That leaves her about $15K in the hole after one month. Betty ruins the daughter's graduation by following Linda around with her camera like a cracked paparazzo.
Betty steals Dan and Linda's wedding list, which sends them back to court. She fully admits that she stole it, but doesn't have it. So, the judge takes away her alimony. A suddenly stupid Linda breaks into Betty's house to get the list back and finds Betty is obsessed with her, even making up Christmas cards that have pictures of her and Linda, saying "Don't we look alike?" Betty has penned an autobiography, which Linda brings to Dan, still too gooey to do anything about it. He doesn't want Linda ruining her "credibility" by having proven she's broken into Betty's house. Betty still has the list, calling everyone on it and begging them not to go.
Dan and Linda have to have security guards at their wedding and Dan's brother wants him to wear a bullet-proof vest under his tuxedo! Everyone in town has Betty's number. The costume designer of this movie fails us once again as Linda is given the ugliest wedding dress (with a bandana no less). Luckily, they make it through the wedding day without incident, "guarded" by a friend, though she does say that it was the worst day of her life. That one? The day she rammed the car through the house was less bad?
Betty's best friend (her only friend) tries to get her to move on in an impassioned speech ("you're cultured, you're funnier than any two comedians I know"--boy, that's heavy praise), but she's rewarded with a tantrum and exits. Following are zigzagging scenes of Dan's happiness and Betty's misery. We get it.
In a funk (maybe for sympathy?), she heads on over to Dan's in the middle of the night, sneaks in quietly and mows them down. She didn't seem to want to do it until Linda opened her eyes, and then she had to fire the whole gun. Dan, still alive, reaches for the gun, but she grabs it from him and leaves. As the sun rises, she makes a call and admits it. In prison, she says she intended to kill herself in front of them. "I have regrets, but no remorse. I regret that my husband had no character, that my kids lost their mother and stability," she reports, "happy to be locked up in this dark little world where no one can get me." She will be eligible for parole in 2010.
So ends the first part. "Her Final Fury" actually shows us the killing again, picking up with her phone call to daughter Kate (Kelli Williams) confessing. The kids are a mess when friends come to tell them, but Kate tries to calm her down. Get this, as they do it, she apologizes to them. "I hope you didn't have anything special planned." Um? What? Didn't she just murder their father? Hell, the one even cradles her as she vomits in the toilet. Betty snaps to and has the presence of mind to write up a will and check for $10K to divide among the kids. She even takes off her jewelry. This is an awfully calm woman, a woman who has apprently had time to do her hair. Then it's off to jail, where she looks comfy in a sweatsuit, not at all scared.
Kerry Wells (Judith Ivey) is the District Attorney assigned to the case, told by her boss it's a clear cut case, "now you have to prove it." What's to prove? Betty's defense is that Dan took everything from her, that she couldn't get a fair shake from the whole town's legal system. Sorry? Not at all. Now we have Meredith the calm-about-to-let-loose nutball. She loved her rage throughout the first movie, but now we have a new Betty. However, Kerry's job isn't so clear-cut because Betty is seen as a victim by women's groups and has some sympathy building in her favor.
One of Betty's sons asks Kerry "will my mom be out in time to see my soccer game?" That pretty much shuts down her attempt to question them. Maybe her kids are as out of touch as she is! On her side, Betty has had to fire "one incompetent lawyer" she threatens her second one. They go to a bail hearing, where the judge wisely denies Betty bail. "I'd rather have her be my lawyer," Betty snarls at her lawyer, referring to Kerry.
Betty takes to the press, hiring a PR firm to defend her reputation. "When did you last see your children?" a reporter asks her. "Just before I checked in here," she chirps, as if he's having voluntary plastic surgery. We get Meredith-in-a-haze Betty again as she tells the stories, but boy does she tell her story, over and over and over, on any phone she can find in prison. She feels no lawyer can defend her, so she files to defend herself, not a bad plea for sympathy, but eventually she gets a darn good lawyer.
Talking to the prison shrink, she is asked bluntly if she sees the implications of her acts, and she doesn't see it at all. She is only the victim. Her friend comes to prison to tell her she's the topic at every party, at the hairdresser, in the checkout line. "It's be nice to your ex-wife week," she even jokes. Betty is thrilled! She gets mail from all over the world, women cheering her on. Prison seems downright fun. She won't put on a wristband because everyone knows who she is, she's so popular. "I don't need a wristband, I need a secretary." Oh, our Meredith is flipping her lid again, just in a different direction. No matter which kind of crazy Meredith goes, she's oh-so-lovable!
One of the kids tries to yank the movie away from his on-screen mother by blaming himself and crying for Kerry. That will not be allowed for long! It's back to Betty and her friend, discussing which outfit she'll wear. "Maybe being dressed as a human being again will make me feel like one again," she says before it's time to go back to her cell. On the prison bus to court, she alone is dressed in designer apparel, her hair done, jewels in place. Everyone else looks like...well, a prisoner.
What actress doesn't dream of a trial scene? Both here, because Judith Ivey is going to work her considerably talent raw trying to win the day from our Meredith. Betty's lawyer gets at least some of the women on the jury to sympathize early on with some corny theatrics. But Judith comes back with Betty's old friends who portray her as materialistic and vain. Back and forth the witnesses go, pro-Betty, anti-Betty. Daughter Kate gives some pretty damning evidence about how Betty stole her keys to Dan's house and pretended to help her look for them all over the place.
When it's Betty's turn to take the stand, she's rational and has an excuse for every check ever written. She's not a spendthrift, she's just supporting a family. Even when Kerry brings up the vandalization, Betty is calm. For her defense, she claims that he was verbally abusive, that she didn't please him, that she was fat, boring, etc. "I tried to get rid of wrinkles that weren't even there," she bawls, pulling out all the sympathy acting, and they are buying it! But, talking to her lawyer, she's full of anger at the prison system. Still the victim, she's angry at the jury for taking so long! As if Kerry isn't clear on the case, she has a poster on the wall, a picture of a casket that says, "He beat her 150 times and she only got flowers once." Ouch!
The jury is deadlocked (and a male is the holdout, telling the press "I don't know what took her so long"). The judge has to declare a mistrial and we have to go through it again. Betty is overjoyed; Judith, not so much, though she decides to work the second trial.
Back in prison, Betty has a showdown with the guard who has wanted her to wear a wristband. Go, Meredith, back to crackpot Betty, the screaming harpy! We missed you!
Meet Natalie Parker, she's the reporter who wants to celebrate Betty in the press. As her friend tells Natalie, "maybe the next Dan Broderick will think twice." Then Betty gets to spew her famous tirade again, about how the legal system did her wrong, the bifurcation order ("where the man gets to screw his wife and her girlfriend at the same time") and her other favorite topics. She's mighty proud of herself.
Steel yourself. Betty has a fight with a fellow prisoner (actually, the other woman causes it). When the guards come for Betty, she refuses to go and it takes a small army of them to pull her out, with one officer recording it for posterity. First a trial, then a prison fight scene? Is there nothing our Meredith can't handle channeling Betty? The footage makes it to TV (where of course, her kids see it).
Now the problem is what Kate should do, testify against her mother, who has threatened to kill her, or skulk away? She gets on the stand and has sudden amnesia about her previous testimony and this isn't good for mom. Kelli goes all cry-cry-cry on the stand, but she's out of her league. No one can trump our Meredith, and Judith has stopped trying, merely doing journeyman work to get it over with. A shrink diagnoses Betty with narcissistic personality disorder. Wait, that took nearly two movies? We knew that from the third or fourth scene all the way back in the first movie. The doctor also says she's never been suicidal, only homicidal.
After Betty is refused a trip to the infirmary to touch up her roots, she gets to testify again. She's just as ornery as ever, but Kerry is smarter this time, doing her best to rile Betty, rather than let her hold the cards. Judith gets back in fighting form, but still holds back a bit. This really could be a grudge match, but hey, it's Meredith's movie. Kerry picks apart all of the differences in testimony, debunking Betty's suicide theory. Betty gets so confused that it's all over for her in a few moments. Don't get me wrong, Betty doesn't cower. She keeps saying "it was my impression," rather than admitting what happened, but Kerry is too smart for that and tears apart the testimony. After Kerry crushes her, she asks, "why didn't you kill yourself?" "There were no bullets left!!!!!" Betty rails, making it oh so much worse for herself. Her own testimony damns her to a guilty verdict.
Meredith Baxter has had a long and distinguised career, both before 1992 and after 1992, but I'm afraid she will always be Betty Broderick. I say "afraid," becuase I actually fear she BECAME Betty and every performance since (anyone see the remake of "Murder on the Orient Express"?) has had some Betty in it. Perhaps when Betty is released from prison, there will be a third story, and we can dig up Meredith to make it work. I can only hope.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Ivanhoe (1982)
When all else fails, raid the classics! "Ivanhoe," by Sir Walter Scott, has been filmed more than a few times before 1982, but the 1970s and 1980s found a flourishing trade in filmed classics, particularly a slew of Dumas films that all seemed to star Richard Chamberlain. Since "Ivanhoe" is chock-filled with adventure and romance, it's not a bad idea for another remake. If nothing else, you don't have to pay Clavell, you don't have to pay Judith Krantz. Hell, you don't even have to pay Jackie Collins. Sir Walter Scott is as cheap as the Bible and he can't object to any changes. So, we're faced with a rather cheap-looking production, but it's diverting enough. Not a classic, but kind of fun.
The tone is set from the narration. "You are about to see a tale of story of bold nights and beautiful maidens. A story of love and hatred and prejudice. Thought our story is old, the love, the hatred and the prejudice are ever new." Okay, I'm already worried. Are we trying to make "Ivanhoe" relevant to 1982? Love and hate are certainly eternal, but there are very few prejudices that straddled England in 1194 and the United States in 1982. Well, let's see how they manage this!
It starts with James Mason as Isaac of York riding through the thick woods of England that are as omnipresent in film as Anthony Andrews and John Rhys-Davies are to the miniseries, so guess who's about to show up? Isaac is pulled off his horse by hooded Anthony Andrews as Ivanhoe. Wilfred is actually helping Isaac, because the Knights headed by Front de Boeuf (John Rhys-Davies) are lurking about looking for Jewish Isaac (ah, okay, I see a prejudice in common, but James does it no favors by invoking a Jewish cadence that pegs him as...well...as James Mason after a vaction in Poland circa 1927).
Isaac repays Wilfred by giving him the horse and lance he needs to participate in a nearby fair. Front de Boeuf is already there, looking villainous, as is Brian de Bois-Guilbert (Sam Neill), praying and De Bracy (Stuart Wilson). Watching the tournament: Cedric (Michael Hordern), Prince John (Ronald Pickup), Rebecca (Olivia Hussey) and Lady Rowena (Lysette Anthony), the pretty blonde Saxon, which doesn't sound so pretty when Isaac spits out the words scornfully. The rules are read, much ado is made about choosing a lady for the joust and then we're off. So far, so good. Twelve minutes in and we have some action. Jousts are always exciting, and mercifully short. When Ivanhoe makes his appearance, his daddy Cedric refuses to get worked up since he's disowned him. It's equally bad news for the three winners so far because Ivanhoe is a native Saxon against the three Normans. He knocks Front de Boeuf to the ground. The other two go down also and Ivanhoe is the winner, allowed to pick the fair's queen, Lady Rowena, looking so dewy it's impossible.
The decision is also much to the chagrin of poor Rebecca (hey, in her career, Olivia got Romeo and God's seed, so she did okay in the end). She whines to her father, Isaac, that not all Christians are bad, and then in comes Ivanhoe to repay the debt to her father. Isaac refuses all money since Ivanhoe saved his life. He still has no eyes for Rebecca. Ditsy Rowena did not realize Ivanhoe under his helmet at the joust as her true love, even though her father has promised to Athelstone (Michael Gothard). Rowena's fool Wamba (George Innes) speaks in riddles that go over her head, trying to help her figure it out.
Day Two of the fair. Now the guys get to do hand-to-hand combat (though knives are not allowed). Ivanhoe wins this too and though injured, finally reveals himself to Rowena, who presents him that day's crown honor. He promptly passes out, though it may be from the terrible acting of Lady Rowena, and no one will help him. Not his father, who abjectly refuses. Rebecca begs Isaac to help, but he wants no parts of a Christian, but he relents. As for the knights who lost, they are worried that the return of Ivanhoe means King Richard isn't far behind, on his way back from the Crusades, which means Prince John and the rest of them are out of business (indeed, he is lurking not far away).
Rebecca nurses Ivanhoe back to life, using herbs "passed down from the days of Solomon." They are leaving and want to take Ivanhoe with them, but he refuses. Not because they are Jews, as Rebecca wonders, but because he doesn't want to "inconvenience" them. Geez, our hero is just too damn good, isn't he?
At the banquet, Prince John tries to toast to Cedric's son Ivanhoe, but Cedric refuses. He want his married his ward Rowena to Athelstone, a drunkard. He further sticks his foot in dog doo by toasting King Richard, the only Norman he'll drink to, Saxon he is to the core. Isaac and Rebecca have taken Ivanhoe to York and Prince John finds out King Richard is back in England, so he and his evil knights are off to York as well.
Isaac and Rebecca's caravan is stopped when their men desert them, fearing forest bandits, and take all the horses. Ivanhoe is barely coherent, so things are not looking good for this bedraggled threesome. Isaac then nags God for heaping this horror upon them, nailing in more annoying behavior. Who should happen upon them? Cedric and Rowena, of course! Cedric refuses to deal with Jews, but Rebecca makes an impassioned plea for the patient, whom she says is an old person who cannot make it otherwise. Rowena steps in and begs Cedric, who finally agrees. "So be it. They travel in the rear," he says.
The Norman knights overtake the party, with De Bracy promised Rowena. Brian gets all lovesick for Rebecca, despite her being an "infidel," and still no one bothers to look under the cover of the sick bed, believing it to be the old lady Rebecca says it is. So, the Saxons and the Jews are taken to Front de Boeuf's castle where De Bracy finally looks under the cover, but allows them in anyway. I guess it's better to keep one's enemies close.
Wampa has managed to escape being taken prisoner and he's found by King Richard, who now knows where everyone is, but unfortunately he's soon captured himself...by Robin Hood (David Robb) and his band of merry men! Friar Tuck (Tony Haygarth) is drunk in a fun way. They agree to help set the captives free.
Cedric sputters in captivity, unable to chew the scenery only because it's supposed to be stone, Athlestone wants a drink and Rowena plays the tough dame (though not very well) to De Bracy. De Bracy isn't such a bad catch. Sure, he has bad taste in friends (especially Front de Boeuf, as done by John Rhys-Davies with his usual too-big-for-television bluster) and he threatens her with Ivanhoe's life, but he seems the least noxious of the Normans. "The fate of all depends on your decision," De Bracy tells Rowena, who, let's face it, isn't smart enough to get out of this blackmail plot.
Brian still wants Rebecca, but not to marry her. "Not if you were the Queen of Sheba!" No, no. He only wants to have sex with her, but she threatens to spread the word that a Knight Templar has had his way with a Jewess. He offers to make her his mistress, which she reacts to by almost jumping out the window. Brian agrees to a truce, at least temporarily.
In the battle of overacting, Front de Boeuf wants Isaac's money or else he'll torture him to death. Isaac doesn't have the money, so he tells Front de Boeuf to send Rebecca to go fetch the money, but Front de Boeuf that he's already "given her" to Brian. Isaac goes into an act that would make the worst Shylock groan, and Front de Boeuf orders grand torture to start. In the nick of time, a note arrives that is more important. "I will be back," Front de Boeuf huffs, meaning we can only hope for another scene as maddeningly wacky as this one. The letter is "in the Saxon hands" and it's a letter of defiance to the three knights. It demands the prisoners delivered to the letter writer in an hour, causing maniacal laughs from the villains, which are immediately quenched by the signature of Robin Hood. This frightens even Front de Boeuf, who blames Brian, though his and De Bracy's soldiers are the ones far off in York. The reply letter says they will simply kill the prisoners, unless a man of God is sent to them to hear confession. Friar Tuck refuses to go, so they dress up Wamba (who retains his fool's hat under his cowl).
We've been lacking our leading man for a long time, but he finally wakes up. He's weak, but he wants to help. Rebecca says they are locked in from the outside, but if he can just find out if Rowena is okay, that will do for now. He talks of how much he loves Rowena, asking her if she's ever loved like that. Of course she has, she loves him, but she says no. He digs the knife in deeper, by saying he can't understand how someone as wonderful as she is can be single. He forgets she's a Jewess? Her olive make-up doesn't remind him?
Mamba arrives as the friar, knowing only one Latin phrase, and finding it hard to drop his fool schtick. He reveals himself to Cedric, offering his clothes to Cedric so he can escape and Wamba will die in his place. Cedric wants Wamba to instead switch clothes with Athlestone, a prospect Wamba and Athlestone both refuse, so Cedric it is. Cedric gets to the door of the castle, almost to freedom, when Front de Boeuf stops him, but his disguise is not undone. Instead, Front de Boeuf gives him his plans! Idiotic Cedric can't resist revealing himself as he runs off, and no one bothers to chase him. Front de Boeuf is furious, but Athlestone is willing to make a deal. He'll help if he and the fool are freed...oh, and Rowena (so bland she slipped his mind the first time around). That turns out to be a sticking point, so it looks like we have a battle on our hands!
The battle is mainly a ballet of the howling extras, though King Richard does kill Front de Beouf. Ivanhoe watches from the window and wishes to be at Richard's side, but doesn't do anything to make it happen. Rebecca wonders why the English love to fight. Ivanhoe gives a rah-rah speech about glory and chivalry that almost has her hooked until his wound flares up again. Rebecca says she would only fight to get the Holy Land back. The Jews will have to wait in line for that since the Christians and Muslims are already fighting for it. But wait! This has an effect on Ivanhoe who lovingly kisses Rebecca and vows never to forget her. She's far more memorable than Rowena, but we know they won't end up together!
Robin and company make it through the door (there's not moat, a moat would have helped). De Bracy is pinned down by Richard and spares his life to get to Ivanhoe. Brian gets there first and abducts Rebecca. Everyone but Ivanhoe is fighting now, even Athlestone, though he's wounded. Ivanhoe is rescued by King Richard and whisked off to Robin's camp. Cedric can only think about where Athlestone is, and no one hears the whimpering man only feet away, under a downed pile of hay.
In camp, King Richard frees De Bracy, telling him to leave England under penalty of death. You see, he's a good king. He gets even more chaste by saying he's learned so much from watching the Saxons fight. And then AGAIN when he protects Isaac from Friar Tuck by punching him out in a bit of comedy. How much tolerance can we learn in ten minutes? Apparently enough to build a nation upon.
King Richard also decides to reconcile Ivanhoe and his father, which may be more complicated than fixing the Christian-Jewish problem or the Norman-Saxon problem.
Isaac and Friar Tuck go off to the palace of the Knights Templar, where they have just been discussing how Rebecca must have bewitched Brian. The Grand Master (Philip Locke) questions Isaac, insisting that Rebecca is a witch and has Brian under a spell. He feeds it by confessing that Rebecca is a "healer." The Grand Master takes that to mean sorcery, even though Isaac means nursing. Semantics are going to keep this plot going? The Grand Master, looking enough like a Klan member to bring that whole prejudice connection going between 1194 and 1982. Brian is told Rebecca must be burned, and now suddenly Brian wants her life saved. All he has to do is cast her off, which leads to Rebecca's trial in front of The Grand Master.
King Richard and Ivanhoe leave Robin Hood, but not revealing his identity, though Robin Hood has revealed his. Richard tells him he knew anyway. Obviously he's read the books, watched the movies, seen the shows. I mean, who the hell doesn't know Robin Hood? DUH! Our godly Richard notes to Ivanhoe that he cannot reveal himself until peace is brought to the kingdom, i.e. the Normans and Saxons film an "I'd like to teach the world to sing" Coca-Cola commercial holding hands.
Rebecca has a trial, but it's obviously rigged against her. If she does not come up with a champion quickly, she will be put to death. Anyone care to guess who will be her champion? Anyone who hasn't read the book, that is. \
At Cedric's palace, King Richard reveals himself and promises "equal protection" for Normans and Saxons (playing again on familiar wording) if he will forgive Ivanhoe. That was easy! We're racing to conclusion here, aren't we. However, Cedric refuses to give Rowena's hand to Ivanhoe until two years of mourning are completed.
Cue Athlestone, alive. He willingly pays homage to King Richard and gives Rowena gladly to Ivanhoe because he knows she's never loved him and he's never loved her. "I implore you, can we eat at last?" he says, having taken care of a whole lot of business in the matter of two minutes.
It's a busy palace, this one. Isaac shows up to ask Ivanhoe to champion his daughter and off he goes, though not before giving a chaste little kiss to Rowena, who has just been reunited with him. Damn you, Sir Walter Scott and your plotting! Damn you!
With butter doing anything but melting in her mouth, Rebecca is paid a visit by Brian, offering to save her and ride off to the Holy Land with her, but she refuses and he pretends he doesn't love her. Like she needs him? Ivanhoe is on his way.
Remember Prince John? He has no soldiers left and King Richard is fast approaching. Front de Boeuf is dead, Brian cannot help and De Bracy is sticking to his promise to King Richard to leave England. Even Prince John's most loyal vassal hies to the priesthood in fear.
Unless you have ever read an adventure or romance novel, you will know that as Rebecca is tied to a pole atop a pyre, she's not REALLY going to die. The Grand Master calls for her champion and no one comes forward. The Grand Master puts off the burning for an hour. Brian tries to get Rebecca to run away with him, she refuses, and then he begs her to renounce her faith. She refuses that too. It's going to be a looooooong hour atop that pyre. Well, not that long, because the hour passes literally in five seconds.
Ah, here comes Ivanhoe, riding in just as the fire was to be applied to the pyre (yes, a fire pyre, all of you Sondheim fans). Ivanhoe not only defends her, but denounces Brian and offers to fight him. Before these two cocks go off to fight, Rebecca must accept Ivanhoe as her champion. Like she's in a position to refuse him? Okay, now they can fight. Ivanhoe has bested Brian twice with a lance, so this isn't likely to be very full of suspense. Ivanhoe is knocked off his horse, which means combat with swords. The Grand Master as his fey but talkative assistant all but snort fire as they hope for Brian's success. At first, it seems to be going his way, because Ivanhoe is still weak. Robin Hood and his men are hiding behind the trees, willing to help, of course, but it's been decreed that no one may interfere with this fight. They don't have to. Brian looks at Rebecca and holds the gaze a bit too long, giving Ivanhoe the chance to run him through with a sword.
King Richard arrives in his kingly robes with Prince John in tow and banishes the Grand Master and the rest of the Knights Templar. Off they go. Robin Hood and Friar Tuck are a little ashamed they didn't realize who he was. Richard pronounces complete equality between Saxons and Normans, as he promised.
We need a wedding! Though Ivanhoe loves Rebecca, he loves Rowena more, so it's Rowena he marries. Rebecca goes to Rowena to say her goodbyes, since she and her father are going off to Spain to seek religious freedom. Wow, there's irony for you! The Inquisition never got even a foothold in England, but in Spain, it was a grand success for all but the Jews.
Off Rebecca and Isaac go, as Ivanhoe looks longingly. He has is bland blonde, he's not changing his mind.
The tone is set from the narration. "You are about to see a tale of story of bold nights and beautiful maidens. A story of love and hatred and prejudice. Thought our story is old, the love, the hatred and the prejudice are ever new." Okay, I'm already worried. Are we trying to make "Ivanhoe" relevant to 1982? Love and hate are certainly eternal, but there are very few prejudices that straddled England in 1194 and the United States in 1982. Well, let's see how they manage this!
It starts with James Mason as Isaac of York riding through the thick woods of England that are as omnipresent in film as Anthony Andrews and John Rhys-Davies are to the miniseries, so guess who's about to show up? Isaac is pulled off his horse by hooded Anthony Andrews as Ivanhoe. Wilfred is actually helping Isaac, because the Knights headed by Front de Boeuf (John Rhys-Davies) are lurking about looking for Jewish Isaac (ah, okay, I see a prejudice in common, but James does it no favors by invoking a Jewish cadence that pegs him as...well...as James Mason after a vaction in Poland circa 1927).
Isaac repays Wilfred by giving him the horse and lance he needs to participate in a nearby fair. Front de Boeuf is already there, looking villainous, as is Brian de Bois-Guilbert (Sam Neill), praying and De Bracy (Stuart Wilson). Watching the tournament: Cedric (Michael Hordern), Prince John (Ronald Pickup), Rebecca (Olivia Hussey) and Lady Rowena (Lysette Anthony), the pretty blonde Saxon, which doesn't sound so pretty when Isaac spits out the words scornfully. The rules are read, much ado is made about choosing a lady for the joust and then we're off. So far, so good. Twelve minutes in and we have some action. Jousts are always exciting, and mercifully short. When Ivanhoe makes his appearance, his daddy Cedric refuses to get worked up since he's disowned him. It's equally bad news for the three winners so far because Ivanhoe is a native Saxon against the three Normans. He knocks Front de Boeuf to the ground. The other two go down also and Ivanhoe is the winner, allowed to pick the fair's queen, Lady Rowena, looking so dewy it's impossible.
The decision is also much to the chagrin of poor Rebecca (hey, in her career, Olivia got Romeo and God's seed, so she did okay in the end). She whines to her father, Isaac, that not all Christians are bad, and then in comes Ivanhoe to repay the debt to her father. Isaac refuses all money since Ivanhoe saved his life. He still has no eyes for Rebecca. Ditsy Rowena did not realize Ivanhoe under his helmet at the joust as her true love, even though her father has promised to Athelstone (Michael Gothard). Rowena's fool Wamba (George Innes) speaks in riddles that go over her head, trying to help her figure it out.
Day Two of the fair. Now the guys get to do hand-to-hand combat (though knives are not allowed). Ivanhoe wins this too and though injured, finally reveals himself to Rowena, who presents him that day's crown honor. He promptly passes out, though it may be from the terrible acting of Lady Rowena, and no one will help him. Not his father, who abjectly refuses. Rebecca begs Isaac to help, but he wants no parts of a Christian, but he relents. As for the knights who lost, they are worried that the return of Ivanhoe means King Richard isn't far behind, on his way back from the Crusades, which means Prince John and the rest of them are out of business (indeed, he is lurking not far away).
Rebecca nurses Ivanhoe back to life, using herbs "passed down from the days of Solomon." They are leaving and want to take Ivanhoe with them, but he refuses. Not because they are Jews, as Rebecca wonders, but because he doesn't want to "inconvenience" them. Geez, our hero is just too damn good, isn't he?
At the banquet, Prince John tries to toast to Cedric's son Ivanhoe, but Cedric refuses. He want his married his ward Rowena to Athelstone, a drunkard. He further sticks his foot in dog doo by toasting King Richard, the only Norman he'll drink to, Saxon he is to the core. Isaac and Rebecca have taken Ivanhoe to York and Prince John finds out King Richard is back in England, so he and his evil knights are off to York as well.
Isaac and Rebecca's caravan is stopped when their men desert them, fearing forest bandits, and take all the horses. Ivanhoe is barely coherent, so things are not looking good for this bedraggled threesome. Isaac then nags God for heaping this horror upon them, nailing in more annoying behavior. Who should happen upon them? Cedric and Rowena, of course! Cedric refuses to deal with Jews, but Rebecca makes an impassioned plea for the patient, whom she says is an old person who cannot make it otherwise. Rowena steps in and begs Cedric, who finally agrees. "So be it. They travel in the rear," he says.
The Norman knights overtake the party, with De Bracy promised Rowena. Brian gets all lovesick for Rebecca, despite her being an "infidel," and still no one bothers to look under the cover of the sick bed, believing it to be the old lady Rebecca says it is. So, the Saxons and the Jews are taken to Front de Boeuf's castle where De Bracy finally looks under the cover, but allows them in anyway. I guess it's better to keep one's enemies close.
Wampa has managed to escape being taken prisoner and he's found by King Richard, who now knows where everyone is, but unfortunately he's soon captured himself...by Robin Hood (David Robb) and his band of merry men! Friar Tuck (Tony Haygarth) is drunk in a fun way. They agree to help set the captives free.
Cedric sputters in captivity, unable to chew the scenery only because it's supposed to be stone, Athlestone wants a drink and Rowena plays the tough dame (though not very well) to De Bracy. De Bracy isn't such a bad catch. Sure, he has bad taste in friends (especially Front de Boeuf, as done by John Rhys-Davies with his usual too-big-for-television bluster) and he threatens her with Ivanhoe's life, but he seems the least noxious of the Normans. "The fate of all depends on your decision," De Bracy tells Rowena, who, let's face it, isn't smart enough to get out of this blackmail plot.
Brian still wants Rebecca, but not to marry her. "Not if you were the Queen of Sheba!" No, no. He only wants to have sex with her, but she threatens to spread the word that a Knight Templar has had his way with a Jewess. He offers to make her his mistress, which she reacts to by almost jumping out the window. Brian agrees to a truce, at least temporarily.
In the battle of overacting, Front de Boeuf wants Isaac's money or else he'll torture him to death. Isaac doesn't have the money, so he tells Front de Boeuf to send Rebecca to go fetch the money, but Front de Boeuf that he's already "given her" to Brian. Isaac goes into an act that would make the worst Shylock groan, and Front de Boeuf orders grand torture to start. In the nick of time, a note arrives that is more important. "I will be back," Front de Boeuf huffs, meaning we can only hope for another scene as maddeningly wacky as this one. The letter is "in the Saxon hands" and it's a letter of defiance to the three knights. It demands the prisoners delivered to the letter writer in an hour, causing maniacal laughs from the villains, which are immediately quenched by the signature of Robin Hood. This frightens even Front de Boeuf, who blames Brian, though his and De Bracy's soldiers are the ones far off in York. The reply letter says they will simply kill the prisoners, unless a man of God is sent to them to hear confession. Friar Tuck refuses to go, so they dress up Wamba (who retains his fool's hat under his cowl).
We've been lacking our leading man for a long time, but he finally wakes up. He's weak, but he wants to help. Rebecca says they are locked in from the outside, but if he can just find out if Rowena is okay, that will do for now. He talks of how much he loves Rowena, asking her if she's ever loved like that. Of course she has, she loves him, but she says no. He digs the knife in deeper, by saying he can't understand how someone as wonderful as she is can be single. He forgets she's a Jewess? Her olive make-up doesn't remind him?
Mamba arrives as the friar, knowing only one Latin phrase, and finding it hard to drop his fool schtick. He reveals himself to Cedric, offering his clothes to Cedric so he can escape and Wamba will die in his place. Cedric wants Wamba to instead switch clothes with Athlestone, a prospect Wamba and Athlestone both refuse, so Cedric it is. Cedric gets to the door of the castle, almost to freedom, when Front de Boeuf stops him, but his disguise is not undone. Instead, Front de Boeuf gives him his plans! Idiotic Cedric can't resist revealing himself as he runs off, and no one bothers to chase him. Front de Boeuf is furious, but Athlestone is willing to make a deal. He'll help if he and the fool are freed...oh, and Rowena (so bland she slipped his mind the first time around). That turns out to be a sticking point, so it looks like we have a battle on our hands!
The battle is mainly a ballet of the howling extras, though King Richard does kill Front de Beouf. Ivanhoe watches from the window and wishes to be at Richard's side, but doesn't do anything to make it happen. Rebecca wonders why the English love to fight. Ivanhoe gives a rah-rah speech about glory and chivalry that almost has her hooked until his wound flares up again. Rebecca says she would only fight to get the Holy Land back. The Jews will have to wait in line for that since the Christians and Muslims are already fighting for it. But wait! This has an effect on Ivanhoe who lovingly kisses Rebecca and vows never to forget her. She's far more memorable than Rowena, but we know they won't end up together!
Robin and company make it through the door (there's not moat, a moat would have helped). De Bracy is pinned down by Richard and spares his life to get to Ivanhoe. Brian gets there first and abducts Rebecca. Everyone but Ivanhoe is fighting now, even Athlestone, though he's wounded. Ivanhoe is rescued by King Richard and whisked off to Robin's camp. Cedric can only think about where Athlestone is, and no one hears the whimpering man only feet away, under a downed pile of hay.
In camp, King Richard frees De Bracy, telling him to leave England under penalty of death. You see, he's a good king. He gets even more chaste by saying he's learned so much from watching the Saxons fight. And then AGAIN when he protects Isaac from Friar Tuck by punching him out in a bit of comedy. How much tolerance can we learn in ten minutes? Apparently enough to build a nation upon.
King Richard also decides to reconcile Ivanhoe and his father, which may be more complicated than fixing the Christian-Jewish problem or the Norman-Saxon problem.
Isaac and Friar Tuck go off to the palace of the Knights Templar, where they have just been discussing how Rebecca must have bewitched Brian. The Grand Master (Philip Locke) questions Isaac, insisting that Rebecca is a witch and has Brian under a spell. He feeds it by confessing that Rebecca is a "healer." The Grand Master takes that to mean sorcery, even though Isaac means nursing. Semantics are going to keep this plot going? The Grand Master, looking enough like a Klan member to bring that whole prejudice connection going between 1194 and 1982. Brian is told Rebecca must be burned, and now suddenly Brian wants her life saved. All he has to do is cast her off, which leads to Rebecca's trial in front of The Grand Master.
King Richard and Ivanhoe leave Robin Hood, but not revealing his identity, though Robin Hood has revealed his. Richard tells him he knew anyway. Obviously he's read the books, watched the movies, seen the shows. I mean, who the hell doesn't know Robin Hood? DUH! Our godly Richard notes to Ivanhoe that he cannot reveal himself until peace is brought to the kingdom, i.e. the Normans and Saxons film an "I'd like to teach the world to sing" Coca-Cola commercial holding hands.
Rebecca has a trial, but it's obviously rigged against her. If she does not come up with a champion quickly, she will be put to death. Anyone care to guess who will be her champion? Anyone who hasn't read the book, that is. \
At Cedric's palace, King Richard reveals himself and promises "equal protection" for Normans and Saxons (playing again on familiar wording) if he will forgive Ivanhoe. That was easy! We're racing to conclusion here, aren't we. However, Cedric refuses to give Rowena's hand to Ivanhoe until two years of mourning are completed.
Cue Athlestone, alive. He willingly pays homage to King Richard and gives Rowena gladly to Ivanhoe because he knows she's never loved him and he's never loved her. "I implore you, can we eat at last?" he says, having taken care of a whole lot of business in the matter of two minutes.
It's a busy palace, this one. Isaac shows up to ask Ivanhoe to champion his daughter and off he goes, though not before giving a chaste little kiss to Rowena, who has just been reunited with him. Damn you, Sir Walter Scott and your plotting! Damn you!
With butter doing anything but melting in her mouth, Rebecca is paid a visit by Brian, offering to save her and ride off to the Holy Land with her, but she refuses and he pretends he doesn't love her. Like she needs him? Ivanhoe is on his way.
Remember Prince John? He has no soldiers left and King Richard is fast approaching. Front de Boeuf is dead, Brian cannot help and De Bracy is sticking to his promise to King Richard to leave England. Even Prince John's most loyal vassal hies to the priesthood in fear.
Unless you have ever read an adventure or romance novel, you will know that as Rebecca is tied to a pole atop a pyre, she's not REALLY going to die. The Grand Master calls for her champion and no one comes forward. The Grand Master puts off the burning for an hour. Brian tries to get Rebecca to run away with him, she refuses, and then he begs her to renounce her faith. She refuses that too. It's going to be a looooooong hour atop that pyre. Well, not that long, because the hour passes literally in five seconds.
Ah, here comes Ivanhoe, riding in just as the fire was to be applied to the pyre (yes, a fire pyre, all of you Sondheim fans). Ivanhoe not only defends her, but denounces Brian and offers to fight him. Before these two cocks go off to fight, Rebecca must accept Ivanhoe as her champion. Like she's in a position to refuse him? Okay, now they can fight. Ivanhoe has bested Brian twice with a lance, so this isn't likely to be very full of suspense. Ivanhoe is knocked off his horse, which means combat with swords. The Grand Master as his fey but talkative assistant all but snort fire as they hope for Brian's success. At first, it seems to be going his way, because Ivanhoe is still weak. Robin Hood and his men are hiding behind the trees, willing to help, of course, but it's been decreed that no one may interfere with this fight. They don't have to. Brian looks at Rebecca and holds the gaze a bit too long, giving Ivanhoe the chance to run him through with a sword.
King Richard arrives in his kingly robes with Prince John in tow and banishes the Grand Master and the rest of the Knights Templar. Off they go. Robin Hood and Friar Tuck are a little ashamed they didn't realize who he was. Richard pronounces complete equality between Saxons and Normans, as he promised.
We need a wedding! Though Ivanhoe loves Rebecca, he loves Rowena more, so it's Rowena he marries. Rebecca goes to Rowena to say her goodbyes, since she and her father are going off to Spain to seek religious freedom. Wow, there's irony for you! The Inquisition never got even a foothold in England, but in Spain, it was a grand success for all but the Jews.
Off Rebecca and Isaac go, as Ivanhoe looks longingly. He has is bland blonde, he's not changing his mind.
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