Tuesday, 24 November 2015
Quadromania
DVD, Starsky & Hutch S3 (Quadromania)
Why is it that this is one of the lowest points of the season? I can't blame it on the main stars, who appear remarkably chipper for this stage of the season, but that might be because they're looking forward to their coming break, or it could be that some personal interest had been injected into the final two episodes (Paul Michael Glaser was about to direct the finale and David Soul had what I think may have been his then-wife, Lynne Marta, on this episode). It's a mixture of things, really, stemming from the cast, mostly: Huggy and Dobey only get cameos, S&H aren't together as much as they would be normally so there's less banter, and two of the main guest cast, Kingston and KC, are pointless, having no impact on the story at all. It's also a weak example of the series' horror sub-genre, and back to portraying the city at its depressing worst: grimy, rubbish-strewn back streets, closed-down theatres, prostitutes and pushers… Worst of all, nothing seems to affect anybody! S&H aren't there decrying the state of their beat and resolving to sort it out, the tone is fairly light and the setting is just a backdrop for the murders committed by an unhinged, failed actor. Despite having several descriptions, and despite taking people out for a spin with no real aim (as Starsky does to the 'old woman'), none of the cabbies, aside from those that had quit, not even Starsky masquerading as one, ever seem worried that one of the fares they pick up could be the murderer, instead a bored attitude is prevalent - you even get one doomed cabbie expressing surprise to his old passenger that he'd go for a walk in such an area. He has the same profile as one description of the murderer, yet the cabbie never twigs before he kills him!
Starsky's the biggest culprit, and even if you take into account that he's got distractions (you'd think he'd be used to staying out all night on operations, yet he becomes bored and tired, impairing his professional judgement and putting himself at risk through his ambivalence), such as KC McBride, another cabbie (female, obviously), who shows zero worries about the murders of cab drivers, despite being one, and only seems concerned with playing her guitar and singing country! Aside from the usual problem I have with S&H's lack of professionalism when dealing with the opposite sex, she could have been used in some way, but instead it feels like a guest spot purely to promote the actress' song! Was it some kind of backscratching deal? Something to sweeten Soul? Admittedly, I don't know the details, but it's so bizarre that she just shows up here and there to sing 'Nobody Loves You Quite Like You Do' (revealed in the end credits as written by Lynne Marta and Yancy Burns, and sung by Lynne Marta). Why would they go to the trouble of pointing this out so officially unless it was a song she'd written that she wanted to advertise and they had to credit it? It's not even part of the story, except to set up Huggy's brief cameo at the end, where he comes into the Metro Cab Company (one of five or six such companies in the city), under the alter ego of Buck 'The Panhandle' Bear, complete with dodgy Texan drawl (or something like it). About the only good thing to come out of the episode is that his scene in cowboy getup and shades would replace the murky opening credits clip of him walking into a dodgy film, which was from the pilot and had been used ever since!
I suppose we should be grateful that they didn't go the obvious route and have KC be the victim who Lionel Fitzgerald III attacks, though I can only assume we're supposed to be worried that she could be a potential victim, except for the fact we're not given any reason to care as she's a one-note character (except for vocally, of course). But while she doesn't live up to the usual stereotype (and actually helps Hutch rush to the rescue without his quite realising what was going on, so he leaves his battered car at the side of a road with the door open - mind you, no one would want to steal it!), her boss, Kingston, is the epitome of a crazy Jamaican stereotype, throwing bananas around, listening to reggae records, speaking in rhyme. It would have been far more interesting to match him up with Huggy and for them to have a rhyme-off rivalry, something to add a dash of humour and colour to a bleak and dreary episode. I think it was because of the episode's mood that Kingston didn't really fit, being too rambunctious and crazy, fitting the template of the series' wacky characters. At the same time, the mood was all over the place and was unsuccessful in crafting a brooding atmosphere of doom that had been accomplished to a slightly better degree in earlier stories like 'Murder Ward' or 'Satan's Witches.'
Richard Lynch's Shakespeare-quoting, wronged actor, who's taking his vengeance on cabbies after one caused the injuries that lost him his arm and his assured mobility, and presumably ended a promising career, isn't quite hammy enough (think General Chang in 'Star Trek VI' as the perfect example of what he could have been), or on the other end of the scale, subtle enough. I did feel a slight sympathy for him, but that should have been played up so that if we could have seen a nasty cabbie, mistreating people and generally being uncaring and harsh, we might actually have started out thinking this partially disabled man who killed him, was almost a hero, a Dark Knight of the streets. But we never meet any memorable cabbies, they're plain and uninterested, and in spite of the premise of Fitzgerald dressing up as if to play Shakespearean roles before going out and committing murder, the roles were muted and, apart from the old woman, his final persona, weren't memorable or shocking. Somehow, with his metallic false arm prosthetic, Fitzgerald should have struck terror into his victims, but, since he could only limp along slowly, he wasn't much of a threat except to the unwary. Maybe that's the lesson of the story, to keep your wits about you and don't take everything at face value? He just came across as a sub-Bond henchman, less interesting even than that sounds. I'm not sure how they could have improved the character, except for my previous suggestion, and maybe making him more of 'sound and fury' rather than 'signifying nothing'…
The one good role in the episode is well played by the ubiquitous John McLiam as the original Lionel Fitzgerald, or Gramps to his grandson. McLiam can be seen in just about everything (he'd already appeared on this series in Season 1, getting 'Special Guest Star' billing in 'A Coffin For Starsky,' the episode I generally credit as being the first horror episode of the series), probably because he was such a good actor, and he continues that tradition here as the blind Grandfather whose career, and that of his son, were legendary, and who tragically believes his grandson is living up to the family name and continuing the tradition, until S&H pour cold water on his pride and tell him the Savoy Theatre that Fitzgerald III claims to be starring at, was closed a year ago. It's tragic because his joy at his grandson's success seems about the only thing left he has to enjoy, though he's sharp-witted and his hearing is almost superhuman, he has allowed his wishes and hopes to cloud his rationality. You have to wonder why he never asked to come along and sit in the theatre at one of Lionel's performances, or how he can aim a cushion at Hutch so accurately when he tries to snoop into another room, yet doesn't ask his grandson what he's done when he crushes a glass in his metal hand! It's all down to wish fulfilment, which Lionel Jr. plays to in the most callous way. The only time I felt sympathy for the villain was when he answers his Grandfather's questions about where he's been going if not to perform, and he says to see films that play until dawn, a refuge for the misfits, the deserted, the crippled.
If only this mood could have been wrapped across the whole episode and made it a deeper experience - though the Bard is quoted, nothing else of the inspiration or drama is used from the most famous playwright in history. Just imagine if the murders had been done in the manner of characters from the play, so that if we saw him dressed in a certain way we'd guess how the next cabbie would die. That at least would have been inventive, but instead it's all rather lacking in any atmosphere of suspense. Even when Starsky's unknowingly the next victim and could get a claw round the neck at any moment, because he's so tired and bored out of his mind there's very little tension - I think the music played a part in making it all seem uninspired, despite a promisingly ominous opening with harpsichord sounds and interesting direction, focusing on the killer's shuffling feet. The flipping between night and day was also jarring - I never liked night scenes on the series, right from the start, the pilot episode began in darkness, and the cameras of the time couldn't pick up enough light, so that, while the city lights or car lights looked good, the general feeling was of claustrophobia and vagueness, not crisp, sharp imagery, which added to a sense of slapdash in the production values. I've often felt the same way whenever they've done night shooting, though it can be used effectively sometimes. Here, Starsky takes the old lady out for a drive and it's pitch black, then when we return to them in another scene it's daylight and I didn't get the impression he'd been driving around for that long!
Fittingly, for an episode that returns to the negative side of looking at the city; unkempt; down and outs; driving around in Hutch's battered old car (when they're not in yellow taxi cabs); backward rather than bustling; dull, washed out; this is just another mystery in which the audience has the answers long before S&H do, waiting for them to catch up, and one of them is in trouble, will the other get there in time? In other words, the ending makes no sense: the attack happens, with little suspense, except a tiny moment when Hutch drives off after convincing his partner to take a last fare. But the attack comes, and somehow Fitzgerald's able to strike Starsky so hard he bleeds down one side (even though he was struck on the other side of the face!), and staggers around drunk for five minutes as his inevitable doom approaches in a grotesque, makeup-peeling frenzy (did he throw his cane around a corner? He chucks it in rage and I thought Starsky had gone round the side, but we see it land near him!). How could Starsky have been hit so hard with one blow that he wasn't knocked out, but can stagger around for so long - they were clearly trying to emulate the scene in 'Murder Ward' where Hutch was drugged and struggles to escape in a nightmarish sequence with real danger. In that case it made sense, in this, it didn't. The lens seemed to be covered in vaseline or something to blur it out, adding even more to the impression of dirt and grime that permeates the episode, making it unpleasant to watch.
Fitzgerald, despite his oddness, never really seemed mad, just angry and taking it out, so bearing down on his prey wasn't that of the terrifyingly insane, even though he wasn't of fully sound mind. For an example of such a scene done to perfection, see 'The Avenger' in Season 4! I half thought KC was going to run down Fitzgerald, the way the scene was directed, with a slow-motion view of the cab ramming towards us with the horn blaring. So it was a bit of an anti-climax when they just stop and get out. I'm not saying I wanted the bad guy to be run over, but it was an interesting choice. The direction had several shots like that that made me take notice, but it couldn't save the story or lack of drive (ironic in an episode based around taxis!). It's not even that it was badly written in the dialogue department (my favourite being when Starsky's brought in a drug dealer who was his fare and says they can't hold him for wearing a medallion, so he replies "How about impersonating a medicine cabinet with intent to sell?"), it's just that an intriguing premise, a disturbed mind who is also a master of disguise, was dropped like a dud and meanders around with irrelevant nonsense such as Kingston and KC, and as far as I can work out, the title isn't even a word. It's not scary, just plain disturbing, and even the makeup looks like it was applied by a blind artist. Which it was, supposedly.
At least there are plenty of references: aside from the Shakespeare quotes, Gramps says Lionel is "Playing King Lear, not Auntie Mame" (a character which inspired the 'TNG' character, Lwaxana Troi - that's not the only 'Star Trek' connection, though, as both Richard Lynch and John McLiam had been in 'TNG,' the 'Gambit' two-parter and 'Who Watches The Watchers,' respectively). The film, 'The Toulouse-Lautrec Story' is mentioned when Starsky's trying to get a description of a cabbie's last fare before his murder, Dobey mentions it being on 'The Late Show,' and Fitzgerald says he could have been 'an Olivier, a Barrymore, a Keane,' as well as making up a review of 'Macbeth' for Gramps. Kingston's singing 'Papa's Got a Brand New Bag' when Hutch visits, and I recognised the corridor outside Gramps' place as the same layout (though much dirtied up), as the hotel seen in 'Foxy Lady.' There are certainly some odd characters, too, with Baker, the overenthusiastic young cop, Kingston the rhyming cab company owner, and country-singing KC McBride all falling into that category to various degrees. This was Lynne Marta's third (and, I think, final), appearance on the series, having been in both previous seasons, though this time she's awarded 'Special Guest Star' status where John McLiam's was revoked for this second role. The only other familiar face was Carboni, played by Jerome Guardino whom I recognised as the bus driver from Season 2's 'Nightmare.'
**
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