Trevor Writes

In "The Watcher" (1.08, written by Donald S. Sanford, directed by John Brahm, November 1, 1960), a man forces a screaming young woman under water as she fights for her life. They're in a boat, presumably far enough from land, as he holds her under water long enough until she fights no longer. She is dead. The man sits back, studies his bloodied hands, then washes them in the water. His hands remain the focal point of this image. And as the murder weapon, they're an important part of this story. A school teacher by day, he tries to suppress his horrific urges, but Boris Karloff warns us, it's only a matter of time before he strikes again. The killer, Mr. Freitag (Martin Gabel) spends his off-time peering menacingly out of his bedroom window across the street, watching his neighbor, a very 1960 style of handsome young man Larry (Richard Chamberlain), and his girlfriend Beth (Olive Sturgess). Partially cloaked by the drapes of

In the 1950s, the anthology was king. The dominant genre of the newborn television medium, it allowed viewers to chime in at their whim and catch an entire story in the span of an hour (or an hour and a half in the case of the prestige series Playhouse 90 , which famously presented Rod Serling's Emmy winning "Requiem For a Heavyweight", among other classic dramas). There were genres that dealt in half-hours like westerns and sitcoms; shows like Gunsmoke and I Love Lucy had returning characters people could fall in love with, but every story was episodic, wrapped up within the half-hour. Anthologies thrived because they could be made quickly and easily, and were an easy sell because of their disposal nature. As EC Comics' tales of horror and pulp genre fiction made an impact on news and books stands throughout the '50s, their influence spread to television. Science fiction anthologies arrived early, in Tales of Tomorrow (1951-1953) and Science Fiction Theatre

Milk and Money (1936, dir: Tex Avery) brings back the father-and-son dynamic last seen in Porky the Rain-maker (the father clearly tells us that his son is Porky in this one) and introduces mischievous little Hank Horsefly. Hank has a liking to the Porkys, and when he uses his stinger it causes either a little trouble or helps the characters along. Porky plows the field with his slow-horse, and one sting from Hank on the horse's bottom, causes the horse to run, which helps them finish the job in seconds. Their cruel landlord, Mr. Viper, who slithers across the ground and might as well be twirling his mustache to further exude his villainy, wants to evict Father Porky and Little Porky unless they can pay up a large sum of money which they obviously do not have. After Viper leaves, Father explains to Porky that their outlook is looking "pretty dark, son. pretty dark". The screen literally dims as this is said, with heavy shades of grey clouding everything in

Alpine Antic s (1936, dir: Jack King) is a Looney Tune more-so in title than in spirit. It opens with a musical number that establishes the premise: wild antics at a skiing resort. It has one brief sequence of ingenuity during this opening, wherein three snowmen walk on screen singing a sing, then unknowingly walk in front of a fire and melt as their cue comes to an end. It doesn't cut away and shows us the gradual melting frame-by-frame, a bit that is very well drawn. It also subverts the Disney aesthetic, if only slightly. To take the wholesome image of jolly snowmen singing a song, and then place them by a fire and watch as their bodies die. It's morbid for a G-rated audience. Jack King struggled - and largely proved unable - to shed his Disney sensibilities. After all, it was the studio that gave him work on an Academy Award winning film (the 1933 short The Three Little Pigs won Best Animated Short). There is a montage of a variety of animal-based folk engagin