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.

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir

Rex Harrison and Gene Tierney.

A year after her husband's death, widow Lucy Muir has made the bold decision to move to the coastal village of Whitecliff-by-the-Sea with her young daughter and housekeeper. It's a decision that's derided by her sister-in-law and mother-in-law--but Lucy (Gene Tierney) knows her mind and no one is going to change it.

A village realtor learns that same lesson when he tries to talk Lucy out of renting Gull Cottage, an isolated home previously owned by a sea captain. Lucy falls in love with Gull Cottage instantly--despite the rumors that it's haunted by the ghost of Captain Daniel Gregg (Rex Harrison). On the family's first night in their new home, Captain Gregg appears before Lucy. Instead of screaming and running away, Lucy talks with the salty sea man and convinces him to let her family stay on a "trial basis."

It's the beginning of a friendship between Lucy and Daniel that develops into something more. But what future can there be in the love between a very human woman and a ghostly man?

Gene Tierney as Lucy Muir.

Based on Josephine Leslie's 1945 novel, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1948) is a grand Hollywood romance made with care and craftsmanship. Set at the turn of the century, it offers a unique mix of quaint charm and haunting imagery. Famed cinematographer Charles Lang earned an Oscar nomination for his striking black-and-white photography. Composer Bernard Herrmann should have been honored as well. His beautiful, expressive score will linger with you long after the movie. The composer considered The Ghost and Mrs. Muir his finest film score. Entire books have been written about it (e.g., Bernard Herrmann's The Ghost and Mrs. Muir: A Film Score Guide).

George Sanders as a suitor.

While The Ghost and Mrs. Muir earned mixed reviews on its original release, it has become a bona fide classic over the years. In the American Film Institute's list of the 100 greatest movie love stories, it ranked #73 (far too low in my opinion). Its enduring popularity has much to do with the natural chemistry between stars Gene Tierney and Rex Harrison and Philip Dunne's masterful screenplay that makes the audience invest fully in this unlikely romance. It helps, too, to have a wonderful supporting cast that features George Sanders as a cad (who writes children's books, no less) and Edna Best as Mrs. Muir's housekeeper and friend.

In hindsight, it's also interesting to note that Lucy Muir is a very strong, independent woman for a Hollywood romance of this period. She takes bold risks, doesn't frighten easily, and isn't afraid to face loneliness. One of the film's best scenes is when she reflects back on her life with her grown daughter near the end.

Hope Lange & Edward Mulhare.

Though The Ghost and Mrs. Muir has never been remade, it was adapted for radio twice: in 1947 with Madeleine Carroll and Charles Boyer and in 1951 with Jane Wyatt and Charles Boyer. It was adapted into a TV sitcom in 1968 with Hope Lange as Carolyn Muir and Edward Mulhare as Captain Gregg. The TV series added another child (as in the novel) and a dog. The show only lasted two years--despite the fact that Hope Lange won two Emmys for playing Mrs. Muir!

Thelma Ritter Shines in The Mating Season

Within days of meeting under unusual circumstances, Val McNulty (John Lund) and Maggie Carleton (Gene Tierney) decide to get married. Val is a working-class junior executive who believes Maggie's family is affluent. Yet, while Maggie's mother has hobnobbed with royalty as an ambassador's wife, the family has little money of its own. Mother and daughter may look like socialites, but they lack the means to maintain that lifestyle.

Thelma Ritter as Ellen.

Still, when Val's down-to-earth mother Ellen (Thelma Ritter) arrives unexpectedly, her son becomes concerned that she'll look and feel out of place. A hard-working woman, Ellen has finally sold the diner that she kept alive after her husband's death. She doesn't even have time to explain her situation before Val gives her money to buy a new dress for the wedding. Concerned that her son is ashamed of her, Ellen skips the nuptials.

However, instead of returning home, she stays in Ohio and--through an unusual turn of events--winds up as the live-in cook in the home of the married Val and Maggie. By this point, Val can't begin to explain his mother's presence--and he doesn't even try. He and his mother conspire to keep her true identity a secret...even after Maggie's mother decides to move into the crowded apartment for an extended stay.

Gene Tierney as Maggie.

Despite a far-fetched premise, the oddly-titled The Mating Season (1952) generates a satisfying amount of situational humor. It's one of those comedies where you can easily guess the outcome, but don't mind because the road there is a pleasant drive. Still, considering that Billy Wilder collaborator Charles Brackett had a hand in adapting the original stage play, it's hard not to imagine that The Mating Season could have been better. 

The film's cast is both its strength and weakness. It's pretty much a showcase for Thelma Ritter, who had earned her first Oscar nomination for the previous year's All About Eve. She is in top form in The Mating Season; she wisely chooses to play her role as drama and allows the comedy situations to generate the laughs. She makes Ellen a character that's easy to root for--a tough cookie with plenty of common sense who's willing to do anything for her son. Her performance earned Ritter her second consecutive Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress. She would eventually receive a total of six nominations in that category--and yet somehow never register a win. 

The rest of the cast is a mixed blessing. Gene Tierney exudes radiance and charm as Maggie. Thus, the audience doesn't blame her when her expectations lead her husband to live beyond his means (until his Mom comes to the rescue). As Maggie's mater, Miriam Hopkins is amusing in a one-note fashion. 

John Lund as Val.

That leaves John Lund as the film's chief liability. Lund comes across as a lightweight version of Van Johnson, but with none of Johnson's celluloid appeal. Yes, the screenwriters share the blame, too, but the bottom line is that it's difficult to fathom what attracted Maggie to Val (beyond a physical attracton). And worse, Val rarely seems to fully appreciate all that his mother has done for him.

As a final assessment, The Mating Season is an amusing showcase that reminds one just how good Thelma Ritter could be. That may not be a glowing critique, but it'll do for Ritter fans.

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.

Preminger Takes an Insider's Look at Politics in Advise & Consent

Like The Day the Earth Stood Still, Advise & Consent is one of those rare films whose themes never seem to age. Even its plot has held up remarkably well. When I watched it a few years ago, President George W. Bush was encountering opposition from the Senate—and his own party—on the appointment of Robert Bolton as United Nations ambassador. In Advise & Consent, the President (his name is never given) clashes with the Senate and his own party on his nomination of a liberal academic to become Secretary of State.

Fonda as the President's pick.

His nominee Robert Leffingwell (Henry Fonda) isn’t even sure he wants the job at first. But the President (Franchot Tone), whose ailing health threatens the future of his policies, remains steadfast in his choice. Even a potentially scandalous secret from Leffington’s past can’t convince the Commander in Chief to alter his position. The President’s unyielding stance sets into motion a political chess match in which Senators take sides and people become pawns. (The chess analogy is an interesting one: Walter Pidgeon, who fights for Leffingwell, wears a dark suit; Charles Laughton, who opposes him, wears white).

Laughton on the Senate's floor.

The characters come alive courtesy of an exceptional cast: Laughton as the curmudgeonly senior senator from South Carolina; Pidgeon as the President’s right-hand man; Don Murray as a bright well-intentioned junior senator with his own secret; George Grizzard as an overly ambitious right-winger; Peter Lawford as a team player who finally sees through the hypocrisy; and Lew Ayres as an ignored vice president who may be stronger than people think.

My favorite aspect of the film, though, is its “behind the scenes” look at Washington politics. A powerful senator, not selected for a subcommittee, pulls strings so he can influence a hearing as an “observer.” Strategists project votes to determine when they think they have enough to make their move. An ambitious junior senator campaigns to be selected as a committee chair. There are subtle threats of blackmail and not-so-subtle ones. Allen Drury, who wrote the Pulitzer Prize-winning bestseller on which the film was based, spent several years as a political reporter. His insider look is revealing and engrossing.

Pidgeon and Gene Tierney,
Preminger's Laura.

I'm often surprised that director Otto Preminger is mentioned so rarely in conversations about great directors. It may have to do with his versatility. Many of the great filmmakers are associated with certain types of films, such as Hitchcock and suspense, Ford and Westerns, and Lubitsch and comedy. But Preminger, like Billy Wilder, could make a movie about anything: film noir (Laura); comedy (The Moon Is Blue); social drama (The Man With the Golden Arm); courtroom drama (Anatomy of a Murder); or suspense (Bunny Lake Is Missing). His direction is subtle and flawless in Advise & Consent, inconspicuously moving along the dialogue-driven plot.

The 1960s were a banner decade for political dramas. The Best Man (1964), about two men seeking their party’s presidential nomination, is a fine companion piece to Advise & Consent (interestingly, it also shares a key subplot and also stars Henry Fonda). And though it’s more of a thriller, Seven Days in May (1964) provides a sharp portrait of a president facing a leadership crisis. All three films hold up amazingly well today and come highly recommended.

The Dark Side of Obsession: Laura

Machiavelli wrote that “it is better to be feared than to be loved.” The title character of this film should have read more about political philosophy and less about fashion. Too many people just loved her to death…or at least tried.

A classic psychological film noir, Laura is one of the best films Otto Preminger ever made. Yet, the plot of Laura seems quite simple when you compare it to the behind the scenes plot that unfolded daily at 20th Century Fox. First Preminger was to direct; then studio head Darryl Zanuck fired him and replaced him with Rouben Mamoulian. Then Mamoulian was fired (nothing new for him) and Preminger was rehired. Then they argued over the cast. Zanuck wanted John Hodiak to play Detective McPherson and Preminger wanted Dana Andrews. Zanuck also tried to put the nix on Clifton Webb (who ended up being nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar) and first-time cinematographer Joseph LaShelle (who won the film’s only Academy Award for his photography), who replaced Lucien Ballard after Mamoulian was fired. In the end, Preminger won most of the battles and his film garnered five Academy Award nominations, including Best Director, Best Art Direction (Lyle R. Wheeler, Leland Fuller, and Thomas Little), and Best Screenplay (adapted from the Vera Caspary novel of the same name by Jay Dratler, Samuel Hoffenstein and Betty Reinhardt).

There are many elements that make this a prime example of a film noir. Parasitic and morally bankrupt characters run (well-heeled) rampant through the posh drawing rooms of New York City while an unconventional detective tries to unravel the sordidness of it all. There is a chilling theme song, “Laura” (which was inspired by a Dear John letter that composer David Raksin’s wife left him), that is unforgettable. And then there is the pristine black and white cinematography of LaShelle, which incorporates both shadows and an ethereal essence. And to top it all off, you have some of sharpest and outright acidic dialogue ever imagined. All of these elements combined make it one of the best film noirs ever.

The film opens with that haunting theme song and a shot of an even more haunting portrait of a woman we soon learn, via voiceover by society columnist Waldo Lydecker (Clifton Webb), was named Laura Hunt (Gene Tierney in a role turned down by both Jennifer Jones and Hedy Lamarr)—was being the key word, as she is now dead (sort of). After waxing poetic in his bathtub about his relationship with the recently murdered beauty, Lydecker invites Detective McPherson (Dana Andrews) in for a friendly chat, where Lydecker nominates himself as the most logical sidekick in hunting down the murderer (even if he himself is a suspect!).

Next suspect: Laura’s rich, spinster Aunt Anne Treadwell (Judith Anderson). We soon learn that Aunt Anne has a thing for Laura’s would-be fiancée Shelby Carpenter (Vincent Price), a Southern gentleman who deposits a lot of checks with the the aunt’s name on them. A classic line from Lydecker suggests the proper aunt lost money playing craps, but it is quite obvious to the audience that she pays for Shelby’s favors. On cue, Shelby enters and is insulted by Lydecker, who reveals that Laura was rethinking “throwing her life away on a male beauty in distress.” Thoroughly insulted (and insinuated as yet another suspect), Shelby accompanies Lydecker and McPherson to Laura’s apartment. At the deceased’s residence we find two identical items from Lydecker’s apartment in Laura’s apartment: a grandfather clock and that eerie portrait of Laura.

Later, Lydecker and McPherson head off to dine at Waldo and Laura’s special table, where Lydecker reminisces (via flashback) of happier days. They’d met five years earlier when career-minded Laura had asked him to endorse a pen promoted by her advertising agency. At first he had snubbed her, but then he changed his mind and not only endorsed the pen but decided to make her his protégé. From that point on, Lydecker was in the business of molding Laura into the most unforgettable woman ever. The problem was he didn’t want to share her with anyone, so if someone came into the picture he got rid of them. First, it was the portrait painter Jacoby, whose artistic talent (or lack thereof) Lydecker ridiculed in his column. Then, there was Shelby, who Lydecker found utterly reprehensible and suggested to Laura that she look into his background before marrying him. It was soon revealed that Shelby was a cad of the first order, carrying on an affair with Diane Redfern, a model at the agency, and also cozying up to Aunt Anne. Soon after these revelations, Laura decided to go to her country home to reconsider her marriage plans. Alas, it was the last time Lydecker heard her voice.

Back at Laura’s apartment, McPherson encounters the maid, Bessie Clary (Dorothy Adams), who reveals she found a cheap bottle of whiskey in Laura’s bedroom the night she was killed. He also encounters the gruesome threesome who have come to determine what belongs to whom. Lydecker wants a few things back that he “lent” Laura: an antique fire screen, a “priceless” vase, and the same grandfather clock he already has in his own apartment.

As time passes, McPherson, who has taken to sulking in Laura’s apartment alone, starts to become obsessed with the portrait. On one of his many visits, Lydecker accuses the detective of falling in love with a dead woman and predicts that he’s headed for the asylum. Oh, but wait…she’s not dead, as we and the detective soon learn when she returns to her apartment one stormy night to find a strange man asleep in a chair next to her portrait. She is surprised to learn that she is dead, since she seems to be still breathing. Evidently the face that had been blown off by the shotgun wasn’t hers. But whose was it? Well, when Laura finds one of Diane Redfern’s dresses in her closet the obvious choice seems to become clear. Now, Laura is a suspect for the murder of Diane. McPherson orders Laura not to contact anyone, but like any “dame” she does the opposite and calls Shelby. This tips McPherson off to the fact that Shelby might be the killer and he follows him to Laura’s country home, where he finds him with a shotgun in his hands. Shelby admits that he took Diane to Laura’s apartment to break it off, but that he was out of the room when the doorbell rang. Whoever was at the door Diane answered was the killer.

The next day at Laura’s apartment, Lydecker is in for a shock when he finds Laura alive and well. It’s such a terrible shock that he faints straight away. Soon after being revived a party is planned, where all the depraved guests suspect one another of murder. Yet, only one is arrested: Laura. Escorted to the police station by McPherson (who is obviously obsessed with having her to himself), Laura finds herself given the standard bright light interrogation. The problem is McPherson only wants to find out if Laura is in love with Shelby. Really!!! Once he ascertains that she’s not, they leave. Really!!! The lighting in this scene is marvelous and conveys oodles about both McPherson and Laura’s motivations. First, the use of the two bright lights spotlight the intense beauty of Laura. Then, after the lights are turned off, Gene Tierney just seems to glow.

While McPherson is checking out Lydecker’s apartment and finally realizing that the grandfather clock in Laura’s own apartment might hold the murder weapon, Laura is being verbally reprimanded by Lydecker in her apartment for her possible attraction to the detective. So, when the detective arrives at her apartment and Laura gives Lydecker the heave-ho, Lydecker is politely furious. When he leaves the apartment he casts a large shadow on the wall—foreboding? As soon as Lydecker’s gone, McPherson checks Laura’s clock and finds the gun. Setting off to arrest Lydecker, McPherson leaves Laura with a kiss and tells her to get some sleep. Believing the detective gone, Lydecker (who has been hiding in the hallway) creeps back into the apartment to murder Laura. For some reason, the detective put the gun back in the clock! Anyway, as he’s reloading the gun he hears his own voice on Laura’s radio; it’s his broadcast on History’s Great Lovers. With the cops beating down the door, Lydecker points the gun at Laura and says they will be together forever…fortunately for Laura she has good reflexes and she deflects the gun as it goes off. What I find particularly odd about what transpires after the police fatally wound Lydecker is that Laura runs to his side to console him. Really? This man has tried to kill you twice and you run to him? Anyway, with Lydecker’s dying words, “Goodbye, Laura. Goodbye, my love” and another haunting still shot of the Laura portrait the film ends.

The story itself is marvelous. You have a case of mistaken identity with the murder and the shocking reappearance of the murder victim. I would have liked to have been in the audience when Gene Tierney turned that light on back in 1944—I’m sure it startled some.

Besides the wonderful plot, you have a no-nonsense detective who becomes obsessed with his beautiful dead victim and a whole cast of venomous creatures. The callousness of Judith Anderson’s Aunt Anne is both appalling and delightful to watch. Vincent Price’s interpretation of a Southern ladies man is quite comical. Gene Tierney plays the femme fatale well by exuding an icy coolness that just scorches the screen at times. And, when it comes to Clifton Webb, it is difficult to believe this was his first sound film. Webb is just delightful as a bitter, homosexual who hates all masculine men and will stop at nothing to keep them away from his Laura. There are many ways to look at his obsession with Laura. Personally, I think he created her to be the woman he wished he could be (his other self) and didn’t want anyone to come between them because he would be separated from his one true love: his feminine self. But that’s just my theory, I’m sure you have your own. Whatever may be the case, this is a classic film noir.

Thunder Birds (1942)

Thunder Birds (1942) This film was made to boost civilian morale at the time when World War II was still much in doubt. Directed by William A. Wellman, who was himself a member of the U.S. Air Service and a World War one fighter pilot. Gene Tierney (Kay), who is absolutely beautiful, added playfulness and maturity to the role she played. This is a "war movie" that never sees a battlefield but centers on the training of enlisted men. British John Sutton is sent to America to be trained to fly for the RAF but he has to try and over come his acrophobia. His instructor Steve is supportive and proves to be a great friend when others want him out. Their friendship becomes shaky when Sutton falls for the local girl Kay that Steve has long been dating. The film love triangle is so effective that you do not notice the real message of the film. My favorite scene in the movie is when Steve buzzes an old elevated water tank in the desert in which Kay Saunders is swimming. His plane causes her robe to blow away. Showing off, Steve flies inverted over the tank and drops her his flying coveralls then lands on a nearby dirt road. She seems miffed at him for reasons in their romantic past as much as his fly by...but responds to his passionate kiss.

Cast: Gene Tierney, Preston Foster, John Sutton.