Wednesday, October 8, 2025

Night Gallery Season Two - Part Five

THE DARK BOY
(1971)
Dir - John Astin
Overall: MEH

This adaptation of the 1957 short story "The Dark Boy" by August Derleth represents one of the more sombre moments on Night Gallery, a period set supernatural tale where the ghost of a young boy lingers around the schoolhouse where he met his end a few years prior during a playground accident.  Elizabeth Hartman arrives in a new town to start her new job as schoolteacher, only to be greeted by a mixture of indifference and hostility when she insists on working late at night and having seen a "dark" child who is not on her list of students.  Even when she finds out that said child is indeed a spectre, Hartman never reacts with terror towards him, instead bonding with the boy's father as the two of them try to help the boy to his final resting place.  John Astin was behind the lens on three segments for the program, this being the last and only one without any comedic elements or haunting atmospherics for that matter.
 
KEEP IN TOUCH - WE'LL THINK OF SOMETHING
(1971)
Dir - Gene Kearney
Overall: MEH

Sultry-voiced Joanna Pettet is back again in "Keep in Touch - We'll Think of Something", another subdued Night Gallery installment to go along with its counterpart "The Dark Boy".  Written and directed by Gene Kearney, the story leaves much to be desired as it focuses on two aloof people who meet under absurd circumstances.  Alex Cord goes to the police with a cockamamie story about his car getting stolen by a beautiful woman, and once she is located via a sketch artist's rendering, it turns out that Cord just made the whole thing up on the ludicrous off-chance that the authorities would be able to locate the literal woman of his dreams, in the same town no less.  To be fair, Kearney's tale is about destiny and how fate may have nefarious intentions, but the premise is more far-fetched than interesting.  Also, both Pettet and Cord are stagnant in the leads, making their embracing and romantic chemistry difficult to buy into.
 
PICKMAN'S MODEL
(1971)
Dir - Jack Laird
Overall: GOOD

Though H.P. Lovecraft and his works had been mentioned in previous Night Gallery episodes, season two's "Pickman's Model" is his first official adaptation for the program.  Mostly relayed in flashback, it takes a general amount of liberties with its source material, adding a would-be love interest for Bradford Dillman's doomed title artist who paints what he sees, insists on never showing his works until they are complete, and also never allows anyone to visit him in his studio.  There proves to be a good reason for such insistences, which Louise Sorel finds out the terrifying way when she, (in her words), all but throws herself at the feet of her favorite painter.  A Lovecraftian beast gets plenty of screen time near the closing moments and looks equal parts silly and impressive, but producer/director Jack Laird presents the tale in the appropriate, evocative, and menacing manner.
 
THE DEAR DEPARTED
(1971)
Dir - Jeff Corey
Overall: MEH

Rod Serling adapts Alice-Mary Schnirring's 1944 short story "The Dear Departed" which looks at the inner workings and internal drama of a team of con-artist mediums, (Are there any other kind?).  Steve Lawrence is the lead spiritualist who puts on his "communicating with the dead" act with the help of his buddy Harvey Lembeck and the latter's wife Maureen Arthur by summoning an Indian ghost that shakes a tambourine, conjuring up disembodied voices of people's loved ones, and even managing to hover mannequin heads over everyone holding hands while sitting at a table.  This scheme proves lucrative until Lembeck checks out for real, leading Lawrence and Arthur to falsely assume that they can carry on without him and resume their affair in the process.  The séance sequences are so clearly phony that they should have been played more for laughs, but the rest of the presentation is merely serviceable.
 
AN ACT OF CHIVALRY
(1971)
Dir - Jack Laird
Overall: WOOF

As dopey as any of producer Jack Laird's ill-conceived Night Gallery blackout sketches were, "An Act of Chivalry" at least has the distinction of being the shortest.  Laird wrote and directed here as well, presumably since nobody else wanted the thankless task of wasting such time and energy.  There are not even any guest stars here to mug at the camera, instead just an actor made do look like a tall skeleton who takes its entire head off when a fellow elevator patron asks it to remove it's hat.  How side-splittingly hilarious.  Nothing else happens besides that, which begs the question of why they did not just feature an extra commercial during the initial air date or syndication instead of going through the trouble to have host Rod Serling fight back rolling his eyes while introducing such nonsense.
 
COOL AIR
(1971)
Dir - Jeannot Szwarc
Overall: MEH

Another H.P. Lovecraft tale finds its way onto Night Gallery, this one adapted to the small screen by host/creator Rod Serling himself.  As was the case with the previous episode's "Pickman's Model", a female potential love interest is added since Lovecraft hardly ever bothered writing any ladies into his works, let alone romantic interests.  The source material is heavily altered aside from the inclusion of Barbara Rush's protagonist who becomes fascinated with a reclusive eccentric that cannot stand existing in any temperatures above fifty-two degrees Fahrenheit.  Said eccentric, (portrayed by Henry Darrow), was a college of Rush's father, and somehow he has managed to find a way to prologue death which is divulged in a gruesome shot in the finale.  Aside from this macabre moment though, the rest of the presentation drags.
 
CAMERA OBSCURA
(1971)
Dir - John Badham
Overall: GOOD

Severing as a more ghoulish tweak on Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, "Camera Obscura" finds an unfeeling moneylender getting his just comeuppance via the mysterious contraption of the title.  An adaptation of Basil Copper's 1965 short story of the same name, it encapsulates Rod Serling's initial M.O. for Night Gallery, meaning a horror version of The Twilight Zone where someone finds themselves in an impossible "reality" that spells their doom.  Rene Auberjonois plays such an unwilling sap who meets his grisly end after failing to offer some lenience on a heavily made-up Ross Martin's loan, Martin showing him a peculiar telescope that seemingly can see into the past, as well as do much more.  It is a stylized build up to a memorable finale, but it delivers in such a regard as Auberjonois reaps what he sows with ghouls of his own ilk surrounding him.
 
QUOTH THE RAVEN
(1971)
Dir - Jeff Corey
Overall: WOOF

Marty Allen is the comedic guest star who pops in for "Quoth the Raven"; another lousy Night Gallery blackout sketch that is not worth anyone's time.  Short, stupid, not funny, and pointless, the only humor that can be found is in watching host Rod Serling bite his tongue while introducing it.  Serling was outwardly displeased with producer Jack Laird shoehorning these segments into the program, (Laird also authoring this ultra-short vignette, as he did several others), and every example of them justifies Serling's frustration.  For what it is worth, Allen plays maybe the pudgiest on-screen Edgar Allan Poe, struggling to come up with a rhyme for "The Raven" when an actual raven in his abode calls him out for being a simpleton.  It is even less hilarious than it sounds.

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