Government Agents vs. Phantom Legion – Chapter 10: Execution by Accident

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).

HAL: Our trap to catch the crooks failed completely…

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).

KAY: Hal…are you sure your evidence is good enough?

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…

“And you don’t want me exposing myself…that’s all I’m willing to say.”

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.”

While Hal has been entertaining the D.A., nosy Casey has been listening in at the door.

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.)

“Okay, he got it,” observes Regan.  “Now let’s catch up with that station wagon.”  And that’s precisely what they do—they follow Duncan closely behind, and wait until the right moment to…run him off the road!