After nearly two months of utilizing procrastination powers that even I was not aware I possessed, Serial Saturdays makes its triumphant return to Thrilling Days of Yesteryear with another chapter of (Big) Government Agents vs. Phantom Legion (1951). (I should point out that this lag is a mere bag of shells compared to my previous record, in which I wrote up Chapter 1 of Jungle Queen in July of 2009…and didn’t return to it again until February 2012. The reason for that should be obvious—it was a terrible serial.)
This tenth chapter of Gubmint
Agents is what was known in the serial biz as a “re-cap chapter” (they were
also referred to as “economy chapters”).
Here’s how it worked: as a rule, one chapter of the serial would be set
aside to feature footage from the previous installments, and would usually be
framed as the main characters discussing what perils had befallen them since
taking on the adventure or assignment.
It allowed Republic, Columbia and Universal—the studios who cranked out
the majority of the chapter plays—to save a little money on the production. It’s a practice used widely today, particularly
in television shows (oftentimes a “milestone” episode like the 100th will rely
extensively on clips from past installments) and even in animated cartoons
(where it earned the nickname “cheater”).
The seams on the recap chapters really started to show by
the 1950s. At that time, Republic’s
serial output was the responsibility of three men: director Fred C. Brannon,
writer Ronald Davidson, and producer Franklin Adreon. Production costs in the movie industry had
risen after World War II to the point where the once-proud Republic had to
skimp on what had always been one of the things they did best: chapter
plays. Many of the new serials featured
a bodacious amount of stock footage (so they really didn’t need a staff of four
writers, like the old days) and merely required someone to supervise the new
footage…which is where the uninspired traffic cop-direction of Brannon came in. Republic’s serials were never really revered
for their dialogue; it was the fistfights and action that propelled them along,
so despite their product being favored by many fans its cookie-cutter approach
to moviemaking really started to show at this time. The acting in these movies wasn’t much to
write home about, either; as my In the Balcony
pal Cliff Weimer once observed: “They hired stuntmen who resembled the actors
in the early days…and then later hired actors who resembled the stuntmen.”
Personally, I’m relieved that the chapter this week is a
re-cap because…well, I’ll come clean here—I came this close (holds thumb and
index finger apart to demonstrate) to writing this off again because my sister Debbie
and niece Rachel spent the past two days visiting us and I really wasn’t motivated
to sit down with the serial after all the fun we had. (There were cupcakes, in case you’re
curious.) But then I imagined a scenario
where everybody would be groaning once again (“He’s never getting back to that
thing—it’s going to be another goddam Jungle
Queen!”) so I decided I should get a move on.
As you’ve no doubt deduced from the lobby card introducing this week’s essay, Hal Duncan (Walter Reed)—Special Government Agent!—is not crushed by the falling ore from the trap set by goons Regan (Dick Curtis) and Cady (Fred Coby)…instead, he ducks into the overturned mine car in the nick of time. Regan and Cady, however, do not witness this impressive feat of athletics and assume that Dunky has drawn his rations. “That fixed him,” declares Regan with finality. “Come on—we can get out the other side.” (How does he even know that there is an “other side”? What if he’s essentially trapped himself and his sidekick in the cave to die a slow, horrible death?)
Well, we’re not that lucky—but the two thugs will learn, of course, that Hal is practically indestructible—and he’s back at the Interstate Truck Owners’ Association boring the hell out of the people in attendance: Armstrong (Pierce Lyden), Crandall (Arthur Space), Thompson (Mauritz Hugo) and Willard (George Meeker).
ARMSTRONG: As all your other
attempts have…
“Maybe I’m speaking out of turn here, Hal, but…you kind of
suck at this!”
HAL: Well, I’ll admit I haven’t put
any hijackers behind bars yet…but I think I finally have the evidence that will
break this case wide open…
CRANDALL: Are you at liberty to
tell us what this evidence consists of?
HAL: Well…only to the extent of saying
that it will implicate one of you gentlemen in this room…
Dun-dun-DUN!!!
ARMSTRONG: Well—what in the world
do you mean?
HAL: I mean that I’m convinced that
one of the four of you knows a great deal more about this hijacking gang than
you’ve ever admitted…I’m saying this in the hopes that the person involved
would care to make a statement before I turn the case over to the District
Attorney…
Seriously, Hal? That’s
what you were going with? “If the guilty
party will just come forward quietly, I’ll promise not to frog-march you past
the reporters who are waiting outside.”
No wonder this hijacking gang has been able to operate for as long as it
has, if this is the quality of law enforcement it’s up against.
THOMPSON: All I can say is that you’d
better have plenty of evidence to
back up this outrageous charge!
ARMSTRONG: I’m sure I have nothing to say!
“On the advice of my attorney, that is.”
CRANDALL: You might as well go
ahead with your plan, Duncan!
HAL: I intend to…the District
Attorney is coming over here tonight and I’m turning everything over to him…
And on that cheerful note, the meeting is adjourned. Well, Hal may have made himself look like a
buffoon in the eyes of the ITOA members…but there’s one gal to whom he’s no dipsh*t—his
Gal Friday and loyal supporter, Kay Roberts (Mary Ellen Kay).
HAL: Well…it’s good enough to prove
that one of them is guilty—but I don’t know which one…I was hoping someone
would make a break when I came out with that accusation…
“Clearly I’ve seen too many Thin Man movies.”
KAY: You mean you were bluffing about the District Attorney?
HAL: No…I’m going to turn everything
over to him…maybe he can find some way to pin it on the guilty man…
“Or even an innocent man. He’s not particular.” We then dissolve to the Metz Building, the lair of the Boss Hijacker known as The Voice—who is, indeed, one of the four men protesting their innocence earlier. The Voice issues instructions to his chief henchie Regan.
VOICE: So…according to Duncan, he can turn over to the District Attorney another evidence to expose me…
REGAN: Well…maybe he’s bluffing…
VOICE: He probably is…but I can’t take that chance—the District
Attorney must not be allowed to take
Duncan’s evidence into court…
REGAN: Say…knocking off a District
Attorney is bad business…
VOICE: Not if it appears to be an accident…
Gasp! Since The Voice
needs to know where Duncan’s massive evidence file will be taken that evening,
he’s arranged for a spy to pose as a janitor (Frank Alten)—who just happens to
be tidying up Hal’s office as Duncan enters with the D.A. (Norval
Mitchell). Casey (the janitor) is told
by Hal to make himself scarce (“Make yourself a sandwich, drink a glass of
milk...do some f**kin’ thing…”) in order for Duncan to be able to make his
Power Point presentation to the city’s chief law enforcement office in the form
of 3:46 of footage from “River
of Fire” and about a minute of “The
Stolen Corpse.”
D.A.: Yes…I’m inclined to agree
with you…one of the Association members is undoubtedly working with the gang…but
proving which one is going to be
something else…
HAL: Well, that’s what’s worrying
me…
D.A.: I still think we can do it—I’ll
look these reports over thoroughly, and see what I can figure out…
HAL: Well, that’s fine—do you want
to take the reports with you now?
“I could…but then we’d be stuck for a cliffhanger to end
this week’s chapter.” No, the District
Attorney is perfectly content to let Hal hang onto all the vital evidence he would
need to prosecute a case because the D.A. apparently got his law degree from
Diploma Mill University. (Good ol’ DMU.) Instead, he asks Hal to take the records to
his home (some nonsense about how he doesn’t like to take confidential information
to his office—yes, Mr. Davidson is really reaching this week), and the always
agreeable Hal informs the D.A. that he’ll drop him by his office on the
way. Leaving his office, Hal tells Casey
he can tidy up now…and that’s when the rat fink phones Regan at Voice
Incorporated.
CASEY: Here’s the dope: Duncan is going to take the D.A. to his office…then he’s going to take the papers to his home in Glenwood…
REGAN: Good! We’ll have time to set a trap for Duncan before he goes over the pass…
Regan slams down the phone, and then a dissolve finds him and Cady following the Duncanmobile in their Bad Guy Sedan on a mountain road somewhere. Regan tells Cady “This is it” and he pulls over to the side of the road, then flashes his lights. Up ahead, another member of The Voice’s vast criminal enterprise flashes his lights in return—I know he looks a lot like Brice, the truck driver who got croaked in Chapter 7…but that’s because he’s played by the same actor-stuntman, Dale Van Sickel. (Van Sickel is now a thug named Kern, demonstrating his incredible acting range.)
2 comments:
Sweet! Though I'm less of a fan of some of the later serials (they started looking more like tv to me and were losing their pulpy feel), this one looks great! I'm on (another) Mountie serial tear, but I'll have to dig this one up! Thanks!
Thanks, Clayton! I'll admit the later Republics can be a bit on the silly side but they seem to serve the purposes of Serial Saturdays pretty well - they're got a short running time and they're just a little bit demented!
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