Seven Classic Made-for-TV Movies...that you can watch for free!

In an interview in its February 2023 newsletter CMBA Today, the Classic Movie Blog Association asked me an intriguing question: "If you could program a perfect day of classic movies for TCM, what would be the seven films on your schedule?"

I tried to think of seven movies I'd like to see again as well as share with others. Assuming TCM could get the broadcast rights to these films, I’d opt for a day of classic made-for-TV movies. The 1960s and the 1970s were a “Golden era” for television films and featured stellar writers (e.g., Rod Serling, Richard Matheson, Gene Roddenberry) and good actors (e.g., Angie Dickinson, Suzanne Pleshette, Ray Milland, Myrna Loy). I’d limit my seven picks to lesser-known films that appeared on the wonderful ABC Movie of the Week (1969-75).

I've previously reviewed all but one of my movie selections on this blog. Click on a film's title to read the review. One of my Twitter friends, @CED_LD_Guy, uploaded all seven picks to his Rumble channel. Rumble is a free platform, like YouTube, that allows you to view media content online or on your TV by adding the Rumble channel to your streaming device. Click on the "watch" links below to enjoy these fascinating made-for-TV movies. Remember, these are rare films, so the video quality will vary from excellent (The Birdmen) to fair (Dr. Cook's Garden).

Milton Berle and Sean Garrison.

Seven in Darkness (1969) watch – A plane crashes in the wilderness and only its blind passengers survive. This was the first ABC Movie of the Week and stars Barry Nelson, Dina Merrill, Lesley Ann Warren, Season Garrison, and Milton Berle (in a dramatic role).

Daughter of the Mind (1969) watch – A psychic researcher (Don Murray) investigates when a famous scientist (Ray Milland) claims his dead daughter has been appearing to him. Gene Tierney and Ed Asner co-star.

Suzanne Pleshette.

Along Came a Spider (1970) watch  – Suzanne Pleshette headlines this twisty thriller about a widow who goes undercover to discover her husband's murderer(s).

How Awful About Allan (1970) watch – A man (Anthony Perkins) suffering from psychosomatic blindness returns home to live with his sister (Julie Harris), but thinks someone is trying to kill him.

Dr. Cook’s Garden (1971) watch – Is there a pattern to the deaths in a small rural town where a kindly physician (Bing Crosby) practices? Frank Converse and Blythe Danner co-star. Ira Levin (Rosemary's Baby, The Stepford Wives) and Art Wallace based their screenplay on Levin's short-lived stage play starring Burl Ives.

Richard Basehart as a German officer.

The Birdmen (1971) watch – During World War II, POW prisoners try to fly to freedom by building a glider. Incredibly, part of the film really happened! The unusual cast features Richard Basehart, Chuck Connors, Doug McClure, Tom Skerritt, and Max Baer, Jr. There's about eight minutes of stock footage at the beginning--but stick with it and you'll be rewarded with a very entertaining adventure.

Assault on the Wayne (1971) watch – Enemy agents plot sabotage aboard a nuclear submarine in this Cold War thriller. The cast features Leonard Nimoy, William Windom, Lloyd Haynes, and Sam Elliott.

Bette Davis as Madame Sin

A TV series centered around a Fu Manchu-like villainous played by the incomparable Bette Davis? That was the idea behind Madame Sin, a TV series pilot which aired in 1972 on the ABC Movie of the Weekend.

Executive producer Robert Wagner stars as Tony Lawrence, a disgruntled former intelligence agent kidnapped by Madame Sin's henchmen and transported to her fortress in the Scottish Highlands. Madame Sin tries to convince Tony to join her evil organization by showing him film footage of his girlfriend being tortured and killed as part of an American espionage plot. It works and pretty soon Tony is helping to abduct a submarine commander so his brain can be reprogrammed to steer his sub into Madame Sin's clutches.

Denholm Elliott.

Shot in England and Scotland, Madame Sin looks more expensive than most made-for-TV movies of the era. It also features a respectable cast, with the always reliable Denholm Elliott present as Madame Sin's right-hand man.

I suspect the producers wanted to recreate the tongue-in-cheek, gadget-laden approach of the Derek Flint films. But whereas those were sophisticated fare, Madame Sin veers closer to camp. Ms. Davis, decked out in layers of light-blue eye shadow and a large black wig, utters lines like: "You're a prisoner only if you think of yourself as one." Later, when Tony finally realizes he's been duped, he yells: "You're not a woman. You're a disease!" (I thought: "No, Tony, she is a woman and a whole lot smarter than you.")

Wagner as Tony Lawrence.

Madam Sin was released theatrically overseas, but stateside its television ratings weren't strong enough for it to become a regular series. Personally, given the ending (and no spoilers here!), I can't help but wonder what the producers were thinking. I cannot fathom an American television network in the early 1970s being bold enough to build a weekly series around a villain. I suppose one could argue that Dallas became just that in 1978, but even J.R. Ewing had more redeeming qualities than Madame Sin.

Before a decision has been made on the Madame Sin TV series, Bette Davis starred in another made-for-TV movies that also served as a pilot. The Judge and Jake Wyler boasted a more conventional premise with Bette playing a retired judge who becomes a private investigator. Her titular partner is an ex-con serving probation (Doug McClure). It wasn't picked up as a regular series either.

Ironically, Robert Wagner later played another character who would work for an evil villain bent on world domination. Yes, he starred as Dr. Evil's right-hand man, No. 2, in three of the Austin Powers movies.

Cloris Leachman Channels Garfield; Peter Graves Arm Wrestles Clint Walker

This post of part of the Cafe's Movie of the Week Blogathon. Please check out the other awesome reviews by visiting the blogathon schedule.

The hotel at the Portals of Eden.

Haunts of the Very Rich (1972). The opening scene introduces seven people who are en route to a paradise resort known as the Portals of Eden. The guests consists of: a bitter businessman (Ed Asner); a philanderer (Lloyd Bridges); a timid woman (Cloris Leachman); newlyweds (Donna Mills and Tony Bill); a priest who has lost his faith (Robert Reed); and a housewife recovering from a nervous breakdown (Anne Francis). When these seven people reach their destination, they are greeted by their host Mr. Seacrist (dressed in a white suit like Mr. Roarke). For a moment, I wondered if I was watching an early pilot of Fantasy Island.

Moses Gunn as the mysterious host.

However, things turn peculiar when the guests learn that there are no other vacationers and the staff understands but doesn't speak English. Mr. Seacrist (Moses Gunn) explains away these oddities--they are the first guests of a new season and a non-English speaking staff "works better that way." Still, when a tropical storm cuts off all communication with civilization, the Portals of Eden becomes downright ominous.

If you're familiar with Leslie Howard and John Garfield movies, then you've probably recognized this plot by now. Still, Haunts of the Very Rich keeps its big revelation in check for most of its 73-minute running time. It falters, though, near the end with a rambling speech by the otherwise fine Robert Reed and an esoteric jaunt through the woods by Bridges and Leachman.

Cloris Leachman and Lloyd Bridges.

As made-for-TV movies go, it's a strong cast with Bridges and Leachman the standouts as an unlikely duo who find love in the oddest of places. Leachman's character is the first to realize what has happened and the actress excels at slowly, hesitantly coming to grips with the reality of the situation.

Haunts of the Very Rich doesn't rank in the upper echelon of the ABC Movies of the Week, but it's worthy of 73 minutes of your time and you can watch it for free on YouTube.

Peter Graves as a former hunter.

Scream of the Wolf (1974). It's never good to get out of your car on an isolated road on a foggy night, so it's no surprise when something brutally kills a Los Angeles businessman. The sheriff of a nearby seaside community enlists the aid of writer John Wetherby (Peter Graves), a former big game hunter. They find wolf-like tracks around the corpse, but here's what's weird: the tracks change from a four-legged to a two-legged creature and then disappear!

When there's a second killing within a two-mile radius, John goes to see his old friend--and hunter extraordinaire--Byron Douglas (Clint Walker). Byron is an eccentric who specializes in making dramatic statements like: "Once an animal starts killing humans, it never stops" and "A good hunter is never sure of anything except that his prey will do the unexpected." Byron shows open disdain for John, whom he thinks has become weak ("You're only alive when you're in mortal danger").

Clint Walker arm wrestles Peter Graves.

The film's highlight is when Byron agrees to help hunt the animal if John, who once lasted seven minutes in an arm wrestling contest, can last just one minute this time. Peter Graves and Clint Walker in an arm wrestling contest? It just doesn't get much better than that, people!

Scream of the Wolf has an impressive pedigree with a script by Richard Matheson and Dan Curtis in the director's chair. The two were responsible for such enjoyable made-for-TV horror films such as The Night Strangler (1973) and the classic Trilogy of Terror (1975). Alas, Scream of the Wolf is not one of their better efforts.

Clint's impressive sideburns.

Yet, it does provide Clint Walker with one of his best roles. The success of his Cheyenne TV series typecast Walker as an understanding hero for most of his career (a notable exception was his convict in The Dirty Dozen). Scream of the Wolf provides him with a bizarre character and Walker has a grand time threatening wussies, spouting philosophy, and, of course, arm wrestling.

Plus, Clint sports some of the coolest triangular sideburns this side of Pythagoras. You can check them out because Scream of the Wolf is also available on YouTube.

Crowhaven Farm: A Creepy Made-for-TV Tale

When her cousin Henry dies in a car accident soon after inheriting Crowhaven Farm, Maggie Porter becomes the estate's new owner. She and her husband Ben move to the rural New England property. He hopes to find success as a painter and Maggie accepts a position as a legal secretary to the town's handsome--and single--attorney. Ben's jealousy fuels already existing marital discord caused by the couple's inability to conceive a child.

Meanwhile, Maggie discovers that she knows things about Crowhaven Farm, such as the location of secret rooms in the house. She also has visions of a woman being "pressed", an unpleasant method of killing witches by placing a wooden door on their prone bodies and stacking large stones on the door. A local historian unintentionally makes matters worse when he tells Maggie the story of the Brampton witches, a coven that existed in Puritan times.

Lange with Patricia Barry, who starred
in a memorable Thriller episode.

As is often the case in these kinds of movies, Ben doesn't take Maggie's concerns seriously. In fact, he's not very observant at all, even failing to notice that the 10-year-old girl they "adopted" seems to prefer him significantly to Maggie. And that's just the beginning of Maggie's problems.

Made in 1970, Crowhaven Farm is an eerie supernatural tale that was made for the ABC Movie of the Week. It was produced and written by John McGreevey, whose many television writing credits include The Waltons. The film's opening scenes can be described as a Waltons plot with sinister overtones. The local handyman, played creepily by John Carradine, isn't the pleasant local craftsman that one would expect. The kindly physician turns out to be a villain. Even the picturesque countryside is revealed to be the site of sacrifices. (Note: Click here to read our interview with Michael McGreevey, John's son, who acted in numerous films and became a successful writer-producer as well.)

Handyman John Carradine.

While watching Crowhaven Farm, I was struck by the similarities with Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby and Thomas Tryon's Harvest Home. The former pre-dates Crowhaven Farm; not surprisingly, Rosemary's Baby inspired a number of movies about witches' covens. However, Crowhaven Farm was actually made three years before Harvest Home. Tryon's novel features a premise in which a couple with a strained marriage relocates to an old house in a rural community so the husband can pursue an artistic career. Sound familiar?

For me, the most effective supernatural thrillers are those grounded in normal characters who become gradually exposed to unnatural events. In the case of Crowhaven Farm, the casting of Hope Lange as Maggie helps immeasurably. It's hard to think of an actress more capable of portraying conventional and believable characters. Although pretty enough to be a model (which she was), Lange carved out a successful acting career playing naïve teenagers, understanding mothers, and patient wives. Her convincing performance in Crowhaven Farm is one of the reasons this film has lingered with me since I first saw it 46 years ago.

Cindy Eilbacher as Jennifer.

Watching it recently, though, I was also struck by the film's potency. While it's never gory, the image of the witches stacking stones on top of Maggie is pretty strong stuff. There's also a disturbing scene in which young (fully clothed) Jennifer sneaks into Ben's room and climbs into bed with him when they are home alone. It may have been innocent enough in the early 1970s (obviously, the censors didn't object). However, in today's context, Ben casual acceptance of this situation seems highly questionable and caused this viewer to squirm a bit.

If you've never seen Crowhaven Farm, you're in luck: There are several prints on YouTube. The visual quality varies, but they are watchable.


This post is part of the Terror TV Blogathon hosted by the Classic TV Blog Association. To read all the fabulous posts in this blogathon, click here.

ABC Movie of the Week: How Awful About Allan

Allan discovers the blaze...too late.

Allan (Anthony Perkins) has spent eight months in a state hospital, being treated for the trauma caused by a fire that killed his father and scarred his sister. You see, Allan left the paint cans and thinner by the heater that caused the inferno. Physically, there is nothing wrong with Allan, but he remains emotionally fragile--and partially blind. As he explains: "There is nothing organically wrong with my eyes. The blindness is all in my head."

Following his discharge, Allan (perhaps unwisely) returns to his home to live with his sister Katherine (Julie Harris). She informs her brother that they need to take in a lodger to afford the house payments. Allan hates the idea, but a room is quickly rented to a college student named Harold Dennis. When Allan begins to hear whispering voices at night, he becomes convinced that Harold is out to murder him.

This reminded me of Psycho.

Made in 1970, How Awful About Allan was originally broadcast on the ABC Movie of the Week. It boasts an exceptionally strong pedigree for a made-for-television film. In addition to major stars Perkins and Harris, the cast includes Joan Hackett (The Group) as Allan's former fiancee Olive. It was directed by Curtis Harrington, a once promising filmmaker that helmed the cult movie Night Tide (1961) and Games (1967), a semi-remake of the 1955 French suspense classic Les Diaboliques.

In fact, there are several similarities between Games and How Awful About Allan. Both films center on three major characters, two women (Katherine and Olive) and one man (Allan)--with the female characters being much stronger than the male. And, in each film, nothing is what it appears to be.

Julie Harris as Katherine.

The central mystery in How Awful About Allan is the identity of the mysterious lodger, whom the viewer sees only as a blurred image (as Allan sees him). Is Harold Dennis really Katherine or Olive in disguise? Could he be Eric, Katherine's former lover who was forced to leave town? Or is he really Harold Dennis, an innocent college student--meaning that the voices and fleeting shadows are all in Allan's mind?

A creepy shot of Allan.

It's an interesting premise, but it also makes for a thin plot. Fortunately, How Awful About Allan has a running time of only 73 minutes. Harrington also piles on the atmosphere, making Katherine and Allan's house one of those creepy abodes with dark hallways and weird noises. Even in daylight, it looks grim and uninviting--especially when viewed through Allan's eyes.

The suspense/mystery genre was a popular one on the ABC Movie of the Week. While How Awful About Allan doesn't rank with the best of them (Along Came a Spider, Isn't It Shocking?), it's still an above-average suspense tale with a fine cast.

MOTW: "Seven in Darkness" and "Men of the Dragon"

Seven in Darkness (1969). The first film broadcast by ABC under its Movie of the Week banner is a well-made suspense adventure bolstered by a nifty premise. All the passengers aboard a chartered airplane are blind; they are traveling to a conference in Seattle. When the plane runs into a strong storm, one of the pilots inquires about passengers. The stewardess replies: "Anyone else being tossed like this, I'd have my hands full. But they just sit there...it's kinda creepy."

Milton Berle and Sean Garrison.

Inevitably, the plane--which has gone off-course--crashes into the mountains. The seven people that live are all blind! Alex (Barry Nelson), the group's de facto leader prior to the crash, reminds the survivors: "We're blind, but we're not helpless." Spurred by the dual threats of more bad weather and a pack of hungry wolves (plus the fact that one of them is pregnant), the group leaves the crash site. They press Mark (Sean Garrison), a Vietnam veteran, into a leadership role. He resists it initially, but realizes it's the best course of action for all concerned. He doesn't notice, though, that this sudden change in leadership doesn't sit well with Alex.

There's a lot going on in Seven in Darkness. When the survivors aren't crossing a treacherous bridge with rotted wood, they're bickering among themselves and fending off wolves. Although the characters slip into stereotypes at times, a veteran cast keeps the film on course. Milton Berle, in a rare dramatic role, gets better as the story progresses and Sean Garrison makes a good stalwart hero with a secret. Garrison is perhaps best remembered for his short-lived TV series Dundee and the Culhane, in which he and John Mills played lawyers on the Western frontier. Other cast members include Arthur O'Connell and a blonde-haired Lesley Ann Warren (who gets to sing).

Director Michael Caffey directs with a sure hand, using sounds and images to remind us of the perils faced by the blind survivors. The whistling winds and the distant howls are particularly effective, as is a shot that shows us (but not the characters) that a railroad track being followed leads to a precipice. Incidently, Caffey is the father of Charlotte Caffey, who played in the all-female rock band The Go-Go's.

Katie Saylor gets ready to rumble.

Men of the Dragon (1974). As the Kung Fu craze reached its peak in the U.S., ABC showed this lively made-for-TV variation on Bruce Lee's hit Enter the Dragon (1973). Jared Martin (Dusty on Dallas) and Katie Saylor star as siblings who return to Hong Kong to save a near-bankrupt martial arts school run by a close friend (Robert Ito) and his father. During a shopping excursion, the sister is kidnapped by a powerful villain who aims to sell her as a slave for $1 million. With the help of a kindly brothel madam, the brother and his friend--both martial arts experts--track sis to an island fortified by the bad guy's minions.

Yes, there's not much to the plot of Men of the Dragon--but it provides an adequate framework for the many fight scenes. David Chow, who served as the "technical adviser" on the Kung Fu TV series, choreographed the kicks and punches. The fights may seem pedestrian compared to Lee and his peers, but they're convincing enough and wisely avoid the over-reliance on slow motion employed in the Kung Fu series.

Wiseman in his better known role.

Men of the Dragon is also notable for two other reasons. First, it's refreshing to see a female character on 1970s TV trade punches with the male baddies. Granted, Saylor's big fight scene may be brief, but she remains feisty throughout the film. Second, the villain is portrayed by none other than Joseph Wiseman, best known as the title character in Dr. No. He doesn't have much to do here, but he can make any line sound evil!

Jared Martin, Katie Saylor, and Robert Ito look respectable in the fight scenes. I couldn't confirm that any of them practiced martial arts in real life. Martin, who was Brian De Palma's roommate at Columbia, did appear in the 1987 film Karate Warrior. He and Saylor also starred together in the short-lived 1977 sci fi series The Fantastic Journey. Robert Ito is probably best-remembered as lab assistant Sam Fujiyama on Quincey M.E.

MOTW: "Honeymoon With a Stranger" and "Along Came a Spider"

I never missed the Movie of the Week as a teen growing up in the 1970s. After all, each week the announcer reminded us that it was "the world premiere of an original motion picture produced especially for ABC." The Movie of the Week (fondly known as MOTW by its fans) featured entertaining films from all genres. Today, we take a look at two of its best suspense pictures.

Honeymoon With a Stranger (1969). Shortly after Ernesto and Sandra spend their wedding night in his Spanish villa, Sandra (Janet Leigh) reports his disappearance to the local police. When a man claiming to be Ernesto suddenly appears, Sandra claims he's not the man she married. However, his sister, a lifelong friend, and even an old servant from the villa all confirm Ernesto's identity. Is Sandra crazy? Is she the victim of an elaborate deception? Or is something else afoot?

Honeymoon With a Stranger is an appealing puzzler that steadily holds one's interest, though it never reaches the heights of, say, So Long at the Fair or Bunny Lake Is Missing. However, it does provide a doozy of a twist near the climax. And, with one minor exception, it plays fair with the viewer--which is essential for this kind of movie (i.e., at several points in the plot, I questioned the actions of one character--but all is explained later). 

Janet Leigh gives one of her best post-Manchurian Candidate performances. She gets solid support from Rossano Brazzi as a police inspector, Eric Braeden (before The Young and the Restless) as a devious attorney, and horror film favorite Barbara Steele as Ernesto's sister.

The teleplay is based on a French play called Piege Pour un Homme Seul (Trap for a Man Alone), which is typically described as a comedy! Its protagonist is a young man whose wife disappears while the couple is honeymooning in the Alps.

She deserved better roles!

Along Came a Spider (1970). I'll never know why Suzanne Pleshette didn't have a bigger movie career. She seemed to get stuck in a lot of underdeveloped supporting roles in films like The Power and Blackbeard's Ghost (both 1968). When she did get a good part--as in The Birds--she excelled at playing strong-willed women who masked their inner vulnerability.

In  Along Came a Spider, Pleshette portrays Anne Banning, the widow of a research physicist who poses as a student at a Berkeley university. She makes a strong impression on a physics professor (Ed Nelson), who finds her combination of beauty and brains irresistible. As their romance develops, the reason for Anne's deception gradually becomes clear--and that doesn't bode well for her new boyfriend.

In the hands of a filmmaker like Alfred Hitchcock, Along Came a Spider could have become a chilling examination of the depths that a person will go to for revenge. Pleshette hints at the complexities of her character, but I think Hitch would have allowed her to delve more deeply into Anne's inner turmoil and the cause and effects of her actions.

But this is a Movie of the Week and not Vertigo, so what we get is a clever suspense film that aims solely to entertain. It succeeds quite well on that level. Indeed, the film's only significant flaw is its length. When a big twist is resolved with 20 minutes remaining, it's indicative that there's still another revelation to follow.

Like Honeymoon With a Stranger, Along Came a Spider was based on a stage play. Leonard Lee wrote Sweet Poison in 1948. Lee was a prolific writer and also penned screenplays, such as the 1953 film noir The Glass Web starring Edward G. Robinson and John Forsythe. Pretty Poison was adapted previously for British television in 1959 on the ITV Play of the Week. That's not a movie of the week...but it's close.

ABC Movie of the Week: Tierney & Milland Team Up; Doug McClure Plots an Incredible (Fact-based) Escape!

Ray Milland as the grieving father.

Daughter of the Mind (1969).  Ray Milland stars as a guilt-ridden scientist responsible for his young daughter Mary's death in a car accident 13 weeks earlier. After visiting her memorial in a cemetery, he hears Mary's voice while driving home and sees an apparent apparition of her in the road. Is he imagining his daughter's ghost? Is someone trying to affect his mental state? Or has his daughter really returned from the dead? Enter parapsychologist Don Murray, who is determined to discover the truth.

Written by Luther Davis from a Paul Gallico novel, Daughter of the Mind unravels too quickly for its own good. When Murray hears Mary's voice, that eliminates the possibility that Milland may be imagining Mary's appearances. Shortly thereafter, the arrival of a federal agent, nicely played by Ed Asner, steers the plot toward an espionage scheme. The film quickly evolves from "what's happening" to "how was it done." That's a different sort of mystery altogether and, in this case, the explanation is revealed in what amounts to an epilogue.

Gene Tierney in a rare TV appearance.

Still, there are two good reasons to watch Daughter of the Mind. The first is is the opportunity to see Milland and Gene Tierney (who plays his wife). Tierney has a minor role, but Milland gives one of the better performances of the latter part of his career (certainly superior to Frogs and The Thing With Two Heads!). The second reason to watch this film is a delightful cameo from John Carradine, who plays a former charlatan who advises Murray not to concentrate on how the tricks were done...but rather how he would do them.

Das Dodo gets ready for flight.

The Birdmen (1971).  This fact-based tale stars Doug McClure as a POW in 1943 Germany who comes up with the idea of building a glider to escape from Colditz Castle and fly ten miles across enemy lines to Switzerland. Incredibly, most of the film is true: fourteen POWs really did build a glider after discovering a book on aeronautical engineering in the prison camp's library. They really did build a false wall to hide their work from the German guards. And they constructed a glider with a fuselage of 19 feet and a wing span of 32 feet. However, the glider never took flight--the prisoners were liberated before it was launched.

The real Colditz Cock.

Screenwriter David Kidd takes a couple of liberties with the facts to build dramatic tension. Whereas the original glider was built to keep up the prisoners' morale, Kidd has intelligence agent/aviator McClure building the glider to break out a nuclear physicist captured by the Germans. And, of course, this glider (dubbed Das Dodo instead of the real-life Colditz Cock) actually takes flight in The Birdmen.

Basehart as the German commandant;
he played Hitler in a 1962 film bio.

The cast is peppered with familiar faces: Chuck Connors as the senior American officer; Tom Skerritt as an aeronautical engineer; Max Baer, Jr. (with no trace of Jethro's accent) as a gruff soldier; and, best of all, Richard Basehart as the prison camp's German commandant.

Indeed, the only weak spot in this above-average telefilm is ten minutes of stock footage that's tacked onto the opening for no good reason. It consists mostly of explosions and gunfights--dull stuff compared to the audacious escape plot that inspired The Birdmen.

Alan Alda Investigates Small Town Murders in "Isn't It Shocking?"

Alan Alda in Isn't It Shocking?

Three deaths in one week isn't unusual...even in a quaint New England town like Mount Angel where the population is 1325 and the police department consists of four people. But when all three victims die of the same cause at the same age--and they graduated from the same high school class--that's enough to get the chief of police thinking it's more than coincidence.

There are no surprises in Isn't It Shocking?, a nifty murder tale originally broadcast on ABC's Movie of the Week in 1973. Indeed, the culprit is revealed in the creepy opening scene, in which the killer (Edmond O'Brien) methodically prepares a slumbering elderly woman for electrocution. Yet, unlike Columbo, this film isn't about a cat-and-mouse game between detective and murderer. In fact, the candy bar-eating killer disappears into the background except for occasional glimpses and a car chase through a a cornfield.

What we have here is a non-mystery in which the viewer knows the villain's identity, his modus operandi, and eventually who will be murdered next. So why is Isn't It Shocking? such a delightfully offbeat film? The answer lies in the charms of Mount Angel and its wonderfully-detailed characters. 

Louise Lasser--but not as Mary Hartman.

Dan (Alan Alda), the chief of police, is a middle-aged bachelor toying with the idea of taking the sheriff's job in a bigger town (the nearby Horse Creek). His primary interests are birds and, well, women--though eligible ones are in short supply locally (his deputy Jesse maintains that all the female residents in Mount Angel are 47). Dan sleeps with the owner of the local motel, but he's clearly not ready to be a father to her three young sons. He's intrigued when he learns that the coroner's assistant, "Doc" Lovell, is a single attractive woman. In contrast, he pays little attention to the police department's office manager (Louise Lasser) until she displays a keen interest in solving murders.

As for Mount Angel, it reminded me of Highwater, Vermont, another quiet hamlet interrupted by murder in Hitchcock's The Trouble With Harry. Although Isn't It Shocking? is less tongue-in-cheek than Hitchcock's black comedy, it still revels in quirky touches such as the cab used to transport corpses because the funeral home's 1954 Packard hearse requires repairs.

Nolan discussing the crimes with Alda.

Alda, who had started his incredible run in M*A*S*H the previous year, slips comfortably into the role of the easygoing small-town police chief. Both Louise Lasser (looking just like Mary Hartman) and Lloyd Nolan (as Jesse) add strong supporting performances. Will Geer and Ruth Gordon round out the central cast, appearing in the kinds of roles that made them famous.

Director John Badham hit the big time four years later with Saturday Night Fever and forged a solid career in the film industry. Composer David Shire, whose playful score is a highlight, also had a very successful career. He was married to Talia Shire from 1970 to 1978 and has been with his current spouse, actress Didi Conn, since 1984. Finally, if the tone of Isn't It Shocking? seems a little familiar, it may be because you've seen They Only Kill Their Masters--both films were written by Lane Slate. They Only Kill Their Masters starred James Garner as another small-town police chief investigating murder.

The Friday Night Late Movie: Robert Culp and Eli Wallach Face a Cold Night's Death

When a scientist is found dead at a remote Arctic research station, Frank Enari (Eli Wallach) and Robert Jones (Robert Culp) are sent to complete the high-altitude experiments on chimpanzees and monkeys. Strange events hamper the two from the beginning: an audio tape is mysteriously erased, the generator is turned off while they’re sleeping, their food supply is almost destroyed, and Jones is locked outside in the subzero temperature. Each man begins to suspect the other as the tension builds to an unexpected climax.

Essentially a two-character play, A Cold Night’s Death benefits from compelling performances from Culp and Wallach. Credit must also be given to Christopher Knopf’s clever script which portrays Jones and Enari as something of an odd couple. They almost act married at times: Enari divides up the chores and ends up cooking and cleaning while Jones performs the more “manly” task of shoveling snow to make water. The two scientists bicker almost constantly. When Enari thinks Jones is acting irrationally, he moves his bed to another room—the symbolic equivalent of making Jones sleep on the couch.

The confined sets, the dark hallways, and director Jerrold Freedman’s sometimes extreme camera angles create an atmosphere of uneasiness. Things don’t even look right at the Tower Mountain Research Station.

A Cold Night’s Death (aka The Chill Factor) was broadcast in the early 1970s during what I consider to be the “Golden Age” of made-for-television movies. It was shown on the ABC Movie of the Week, which consisted of 73-minute films of all genres. Although the casts were typically TV performers and the budgets were understandably modest, there were several memorable movies. To mention just a few: Bing Crosby starred in the disturbing Dr. Cook’s Garden; Jan-Michael Vincent was surprisingly good as a hippy Marine in Tribes; and a then-unknown director named Steven Spielberg made the offbeat chase thriller Duel.