Instant Freeze
"Nippy, have you ordered the airplane to go zoom zoom zoom?"
Another entertaining opening here as Mr Freeze, from his ice cream van, first melts an ice rink then freezes the road to escape from a chasing police motorcyclist. He's an interesting villain- first, he's only able to exist 50 degrees (Fahrenheit, this being both 1966 and America) below zero, which for the first time introduces outright science fiction into the series, not that realism has ever been much of a concern. Secondly Mr Freeze (or Mr Zero, as he was known in his one and only comics appearance up until now, way back in 1959, wearing a similar helmet) is a very minor baddie to earn a place in the telly series- but so, of course, is the Tiddler. And, in the urbane and effortlessly charismatic (even with a German accent) George Sanders, we have a guest villain second only to Frank Gorshin.
Again, the script doesn't sparkle, not being written by Lorenzo Semple Jr, but the plot is sound and the pacing well done. And the visuals of Freeze's chilly hideout, with his being able to control the temperature with the touch of a button and warm areas in red, are superb.
The story beats are as per usual, with the usual bits of stock footage at the start, with a theme of diamonds and baseball to hint at Freeze's ultimate plan- and of course we have the character of Princess Sandra, who is blatantly Princess Grace of Monaco. And, at the diamond robbery, the manager is the campiest character ever.
And the ending gives us quite the cliffhanger, with the dynamic duo frozen solid.
Rats Like Cheese
"Sorry. Slipped on a baked Alaska..."
For once, the second episode eclipses the first, beginning with lots of rather amusing high camp as Commissioner Gordon and his equally appalled underlings look on as attempts are made in hospital to revive the Dynamic Duo- or, as the Commissioner puts it, "two such magnificent specimens of manhood".
But then Freeze reveals his plan- kidnapping a famous baseball player in order to swap him for the touchingly honourable Batman in order to have his revenge. Fortunately a disobedient Robin (Batman is not pleased!) is able to trace him and, well, get captured too. We then get lots of fun as they all dine together, with Mr Freeze showing an impressive talent for freezing certain types of booze... while Mr Freeze controls the temperature. It seems all is lost...
But hang on a minute... Batman is wearing "special thermal B long underwear. Yes indeed; saved by long johns. Well, that's a first.
Another good and entertaining two parter, then, not as funny as the scripts by Semple but with a particularly impressive villain. And, interestingly, for the first time we get a teaser for the next episode...
Showing posts with label Robert Butler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Butler. Show all posts
Thursday, 23 January 2020
Monday, 20 January 2020
Batman: Fine Feathered Finks & The Penguin's a Jinx
Fine Feathered Finks
"That pompous waddling master of fowl play..."
After the first two-parter we petty much know the format and it happens here for a second time- the intriguing opening followed by Gotham's police admitting they're unable to deal with this week's villain- the Penguin- leading to the Commissioner striding purposely towards the Batphone with another inspiring speech about how awesome Batman is.
We turn to a frustrated Dick, about to give in with his French verbs until Bruce rebukes him that "Language is the key to world peace". And it's in his deadpan delivery of such splendidly over-the-top goody goody talk that Adam West, already, is showing himself to be a legend. And Burt Ward, while nowhere near as extraordinary, is perfectly cast. It's incredible how much this series arrives so fully-formed in these early episodes.
Lorenzo Semple Jr deserves credit, too, for his hilariously deadpan script- based, as was last week's two parter, on a recent comics story, for this is a far more faithful adaptation of the mid-'60s comics than you think. And, after the sock footage of the Batmobile and the Caped Crusaders running up those police station steps. Here we discover the Penguin has just been released from prison- allowing Batman and his police friend to note with approval the "progressive" policies of Warden Crichton, and when Robin expresses frustration that such an unreformed miscreant has been let loose, he is naturally rebuked. Quite right too.
The Penguin is first glimpsed in his cell as we get to see the charismatic performance of Burgess Meredith- his performance is more mannered and less suggestive of hidden depths that Frank Gorshin's Riddler, but the mannerisms of his larger than life Penguin are inspired. This is the definitive portrayal of a character that always was, let's face it, very silly indeed. And let us not enquire too closely into how a recently freed felon can afford to open an apparently legitimate umbrella factory.
Incidentally, Penguin refers to "the Batman", with a definitive article. This is surprising to encounter in 1966.
Little moments of silliness abound, such as the Batmobile's "emergency Bat-turn lever", while a bunch of exploding umbrellas are covered with asbestos in a crowded shop, bursting holes in it and presumably giving asbestosis to all present.
The cliffhanger is Bruce Wayne, unconscious, slowly moving into a furnace. Of course, none of the Penguin's gang suspect he's anything but an industrial spy, one of the gang lamenting "Ain't it a shame it ain't the Batman."
The Penguin's a Jinx
"What a drag it is being a famous movie star, and so rich!"
You have to give credit for it: this is a perfect example of a clever and satisfying cliffhanger resolution that really builds up the tension and doesn't cheat. And the Penguin's plan of bugging Batman in order to get ideas for crimes is so much fun we almost forget how very silly it is.
The high camp runs into overdrive with the appearance of movie star Dawn Robbins, lamenting how boring and dehumanising it is to be rich and famous. One could make a point about the objectification of women here, if one so desired, but I don't think this script is much interested in social commentary of more than the amused kind- perhaps a little conservative by default, but good-natured enough.
It's odd to see the Penguin using umbrellas to slide across the line in his kidnapping plot which don't use the handle to slide with, but he has a giant magnet and the Dynamic Duo (was that phrase invented by this series?) are hoist by their own utility belts.
Soon we get the inevitable concluding bout of fisticuffs, though, and all is safe again. But, alas, poor Dawn Robbins is consumed with an unrequited love.
This is such a pleasure to watch. I'm loving it.
"That pompous waddling master of fowl play..."
After the first two-parter we petty much know the format and it happens here for a second time- the intriguing opening followed by Gotham's police admitting they're unable to deal with this week's villain- the Penguin- leading to the Commissioner striding purposely towards the Batphone with another inspiring speech about how awesome Batman is.
We turn to a frustrated Dick, about to give in with his French verbs until Bruce rebukes him that "Language is the key to world peace". And it's in his deadpan delivery of such splendidly over-the-top goody goody talk that Adam West, already, is showing himself to be a legend. And Burt Ward, while nowhere near as extraordinary, is perfectly cast. It's incredible how much this series arrives so fully-formed in these early episodes.
Lorenzo Semple Jr deserves credit, too, for his hilariously deadpan script- based, as was last week's two parter, on a recent comics story, for this is a far more faithful adaptation of the mid-'60s comics than you think. And, after the sock footage of the Batmobile and the Caped Crusaders running up those police station steps. Here we discover the Penguin has just been released from prison- allowing Batman and his police friend to note with approval the "progressive" policies of Warden Crichton, and when Robin expresses frustration that such an unreformed miscreant has been let loose, he is naturally rebuked. Quite right too.
The Penguin is first glimpsed in his cell as we get to see the charismatic performance of Burgess Meredith- his performance is more mannered and less suggestive of hidden depths that Frank Gorshin's Riddler, but the mannerisms of his larger than life Penguin are inspired. This is the definitive portrayal of a character that always was, let's face it, very silly indeed. And let us not enquire too closely into how a recently freed felon can afford to open an apparently legitimate umbrella factory.
Incidentally, Penguin refers to "the Batman", with a definitive article. This is surprising to encounter in 1966.
Little moments of silliness abound, such as the Batmobile's "emergency Bat-turn lever", while a bunch of exploding umbrellas are covered with asbestos in a crowded shop, bursting holes in it and presumably giving asbestosis to all present.
The cliffhanger is Bruce Wayne, unconscious, slowly moving into a furnace. Of course, none of the Penguin's gang suspect he's anything but an industrial spy, one of the gang lamenting "Ain't it a shame it ain't the Batman."
The Penguin's a Jinx
"What a drag it is being a famous movie star, and so rich!"
You have to give credit for it: this is a perfect example of a clever and satisfying cliffhanger resolution that really builds up the tension and doesn't cheat. And the Penguin's plan of bugging Batman in order to get ideas for crimes is so much fun we almost forget how very silly it is.
The high camp runs into overdrive with the appearance of movie star Dawn Robbins, lamenting how boring and dehumanising it is to be rich and famous. One could make a point about the objectification of women here, if one so desired, but I don't think this script is much interested in social commentary of more than the amused kind- perhaps a little conservative by default, but good-natured enough.
It's odd to see the Penguin using umbrellas to slide across the line in his kidnapping plot which don't use the handle to slide with, but he has a giant magnet and the Dynamic Duo (was that phrase invented by this series?) are hoist by their own utility belts.
Soon we get the inevitable concluding bout of fisticuffs, though, and all is safe again. But, alas, poor Dawn Robbins is consumed with an unrequited love.
This is such a pleasure to watch. I'm loving it.
Thursday, 16 January 2020
Batman: Hey Diddle Riddle & Smack in the Middle
Hey Diddle Riddle
"I'll stand at the bar. I shouldn’t wish to attract attention."
Here we go, then.
I used to watch this on telly all the time in the '80s and early '90s, but it's been considerably more than twenty years since I saw an episode, Now I've picked up the whole series in the January sales, and I'm in for the long haul with this high camp classic.
This brightly coloured adventure serial, and its deadpan camp humour, seem miles away from the somewhat dark character that Batman has become. But the fact is that the noir early comics of '39 didn't last long, and Batman spent the '40s and '50s as a square-jawed do-gooder. Denny O'Neill's "darknight detective" version of the character didn't appear until the very end of the '60s. This series is a more faithful version of the comics of the time than you probably think.
This has all the charm and sense of fun that 1949's plodding Batman and Robin movie serial so clearly lacks. The first episode opens with a fun little introductory voiceover before we head straight into a splendid set piece with an exploding cake. Then... a riddle on a parachute. And we meet the hilariously square jawed Commissioner Gordon, with his comedy sidekick Chief O'Hara... and an Inspector Bash who seems just as prominent. Then we have, for the first time ever, Gordon looking grimly towards the Batphone, and their only hope.
We then briefly meet Alfred, Bruce Wayne, Aunt Harriet and, finally, Dick Grayson. And Adam West (like Neil Hamilton) is a master at playing things exaggeratedly straight as a man driven to fight crime after his parents were killed "by dastardly criminals". And for the first time we see the ultimate moment of high camp as the bookshelf slides aside to reveal a sign saying "Access to Batcave by Batpoles, and individual poles marked "Dick" and "Bruce". I'm already in love with this programme.
So many firsts... the Batmobile. Robin's first "Batteries to power, turbines to speed". The first (uninterrupted) climb up a wall. And, in the Riddler, our first villain- only a minor comics character in 1966 but made immortal by Frank Gorshin's incredibly nuanced performance riding the exact line between comedy villain and dangerous psychopath, whose laughter is just the right side of unhinged and whose latent hint of violence never quite crosses the line. Meanwhile, Batman pauses just before they jump through a window t gently upbraid Robin on pedestrian safety.
And then- a '60s nightclub in all its glory- and Robin is left outside because he's underage. Molly flirting with Batman. And, most awesomely of all, Batman doing the very dance that Pulp Fiction would have Uma Thurman homage 28 years later. I don't even care if the first ever cliffhanger is a bit rubbish.
Smack in the Middle
"Don't you know that crime never pays?"
I like the recaps with the stills and the excited voiceover. I also like the extraordinary tension between Frank Gorshin and Jill St John, she of Diamonds Are Forever and the first of many femme fatales whom Batman will hope to reform. Her little subplot is laugh out loud for us watching adults- our first sight of her dressing up as Robin with the Riddler comes across very much as a sex game, and Gorsgin has the Riddler juuuust the right side of a menacingly sexual leer, stopping just short of hinting at sexual violence.
Batman's effortless seeing through Molly's disguise is, of course, deliberately silly, as is her falling into the Batcave's nuclear core (ah, those days before Health and Safety), which makes no sense whatsoever but isn't supposed to.
After a bit of riddling and misdirection we finally get Batman and Robin shooting the Riddler's goons- and our first experience of seeing words like "Krunch!" on screen. The Riddler gets a suitably ambiguous exit, Bruce mopes a bit over Molly and we end on, er, some algebra.
So that's the formula. And a splendid formula it is- to the kids, just like the old movie serials with lots of set pieces and added colourful villains. But it's the truly magnificent high camp script from the great Lorenzo Semple Jr, and the equally splendid performances, that make this so extraordinary.
"I'll stand at the bar. I shouldn’t wish to attract attention."
Here we go, then.
I used to watch this on telly all the time in the '80s and early '90s, but it's been considerably more than twenty years since I saw an episode, Now I've picked up the whole series in the January sales, and I'm in for the long haul with this high camp classic.
This brightly coloured adventure serial, and its deadpan camp humour, seem miles away from the somewhat dark character that Batman has become. But the fact is that the noir early comics of '39 didn't last long, and Batman spent the '40s and '50s as a square-jawed do-gooder. Denny O'Neill's "darknight detective" version of the character didn't appear until the very end of the '60s. This series is a more faithful version of the comics of the time than you probably think.
This has all the charm and sense of fun that 1949's plodding Batman and Robin movie serial so clearly lacks. The first episode opens with a fun little introductory voiceover before we head straight into a splendid set piece with an exploding cake. Then... a riddle on a parachute. And we meet the hilariously square jawed Commissioner Gordon, with his comedy sidekick Chief O'Hara... and an Inspector Bash who seems just as prominent. Then we have, for the first time ever, Gordon looking grimly towards the Batphone, and their only hope.
We then briefly meet Alfred, Bruce Wayne, Aunt Harriet and, finally, Dick Grayson. And Adam West (like Neil Hamilton) is a master at playing things exaggeratedly straight as a man driven to fight crime after his parents were killed "by dastardly criminals". And for the first time we see the ultimate moment of high camp as the bookshelf slides aside to reveal a sign saying "Access to Batcave by Batpoles, and individual poles marked "Dick" and "Bruce". I'm already in love with this programme.
So many firsts... the Batmobile. Robin's first "Batteries to power, turbines to speed". The first (uninterrupted) climb up a wall. And, in the Riddler, our first villain- only a minor comics character in 1966 but made immortal by Frank Gorshin's incredibly nuanced performance riding the exact line between comedy villain and dangerous psychopath, whose laughter is just the right side of unhinged and whose latent hint of violence never quite crosses the line. Meanwhile, Batman pauses just before they jump through a window t gently upbraid Robin on pedestrian safety.
And then- a '60s nightclub in all its glory- and Robin is left outside because he's underage. Molly flirting with Batman. And, most awesomely of all, Batman doing the very dance that Pulp Fiction would have Uma Thurman homage 28 years later. I don't even care if the first ever cliffhanger is a bit rubbish.
Smack in the Middle
"Don't you know that crime never pays?"
I like the recaps with the stills and the excited voiceover. I also like the extraordinary tension between Frank Gorshin and Jill St John, she of Diamonds Are Forever and the first of many femme fatales whom Batman will hope to reform. Her little subplot is laugh out loud for us watching adults- our first sight of her dressing up as Robin with the Riddler comes across very much as a sex game, and Gorsgin has the Riddler juuuust the right side of a menacingly sexual leer, stopping just short of hinting at sexual violence.
Batman's effortless seeing through Molly's disguise is, of course, deliberately silly, as is her falling into the Batcave's nuclear core (ah, those days before Health and Safety), which makes no sense whatsoever but isn't supposed to.
After a bit of riddling and misdirection we finally get Batman and Robin shooting the Riddler's goons- and our first experience of seeing words like "Krunch!" on screen. The Riddler gets a suitably ambiguous exit, Bruce mopes a bit over Molly and we end on, er, some algebra.
So that's the formula. And a splendid formula it is- to the kids, just like the old movie serials with lots of set pieces and added colourful villains. But it's the truly magnificent high camp script from the great Lorenzo Semple Jr, and the equally splendid performances, that make this so extraordinary.
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