Kolchak Blogging: "Bad Medicine" (November 29, 1974)

In "Bad Medicine" two wealthy old Chicago socialites are murdered, their extravagant gems stolen right out from under their corpses.  Naturally, Kolchak (Darren McGavin) investigates the crimes. He soon learns of a Native American legend, the Diablero, and suspects that the supernatural being may be stalking Chicago.

Kolchak explores Native American lore to help find a way to stop the sorcerer, an individual who can "transmute" himself, transforming into an animal such as a crow or a wolf.  According to legend, the Diablero is also gathering a fortune in gems, to pay off an eternal curse.  He is able to hold his victims in an unbreakable trance.

Kolchak learns that the Diablero's power rests in his eyes, and that if he sees his reflection, he will be destroyed. Now he just must find where the monster is hiding...

Although "Bad Medicine" treads into some typical cliches of Native American lore on TV (namely the portrayal of such individuals by non-Native Americans), it is nonetheless a fun and worthwhile episode of Kolchak: The Night Stalker (1974-1975).  

Richard Kiel -- Jaws of The Spy Who Loved Me (1977), Moonraker (1979) -- portrays the monster of the week, a diabolical sorcerer preying on Chicago's wealthy. Kiel's physicality makes him effective in the role, even though he is not relegated to shadows or darkness.  In other words, he isn't frightening, but he is creepy.

Two scenes mark this episode as especially noteworthy. 

The first is Kolchak's attempt to break into a gem auction populated by the rich. He fakes his way in to the society event, and then pretends to speak the language of the haves-and-have mores.  He is also, amusingly, described as one of the "Hoboken Kolchaks."  That's not a high-class sounding lineage, according to this New Jerseyite.

The second scene is one closer to the climax, and which perfectly encapsulates Carl's character. He travels alone to Champion Towers, the high ground taken as sanctuary by the Diablero. Kolchak has brought with him a small, hand-held mirror to use to stop the supernatural being.  As he approaches the monster, however, he clumsily drops the mirror and it shatters on the floor. Now he has no weapon, and he has signaled his opponent to his presence in his lair. Kolchak is -- as usual -- left to improvise, while experiencing stark, raving terror, as well. Fortunately, Kolchak runs across the accouterments of a bathroom, including a mirror, in the level under construction, and is able to yield a shard of it against the Diablero.

In 2018, the special effects, make-up, and even general pacing of these 1974 episodes render them largely non-scary, and most non-suspenseful. However, the humor and the humanity of Kolchak still shine through.  The narratives may leave much to be desired by today's standards, but the idiosyncratic nature of the writing and acting make each installment a treat.

Next week: "The Spanish Moss Murders."

Kolchak Blogging: "The Devil's Platform" (November 15, 1974)

In "The Devil's Platform," Kolchak (Darren McGavin) follows with great interest a senatorial election in Illinois. 

A candidate named Robert Palmer (Tom Skerritt), has risen from obscurity to challenge the incumbent, Senator Talbot. On the day of Kolchak's interview with the rising star, one of his campaign officials dies in a freak elevator accident. A fierce canine is spotted at the scene.

That's not the end of the election season body count, either. Soon, Talbot dies in a car crash, and the canine is also witnessed there.  Talbot's death makes Palmer's rise to the senate all-but-guaranteed. 

Kolchak soon learns why these deaths have occurred: Senator Palmer, with his wife's (Ellen Weston) knowledge, has made a blood pact with Satan, the Prince of Darkness. The Devil has gifted him with the power to turn into a canine (hell hound?) to help him rise to power.

Palmer attempts to tempt Kolchak into a similar pact with the Devil, promising him a Pulitzer, and cushy job in New York.

"Politics makes strange bedfellows," Kolchak reports (in a line probably adapted from Shakespeare's The Tempest) at the start of "The Devil's Platform."  

That observation (and warning...) makes for a wicked and fun episode of Kolchak: The Night Stalker that connects contemporary partisan politics to pure evil. 

Again, one must remember that the series aired at the time of the Watergate Scandal in American politics, so it is likely no coincidence that this episode ties the supernatural to political scandal.  Even in the mainstream press, journalists were likening Nixon's White House to a horror film, suggesting that the first family's domicile needed an exorcism to rid it of the evil inhabiting it. This episode treads more deeply into the politics/supernatural evil conceit popular at the time.

Tom Skerritt, later a star of Alien (1979) and Picket Fences (1992 - 1996) is the face of evil in this tale, a man who has sacrificed his immortal soul for power on this mortal coil. One of the most fascinating scenes in the episode finds Palmer and his wife debating about whether he can undo the deal, since it doesn't seem to be going well for him.  

Alas, deals with the devil don't typically feature an escape clause.

The droll nature of this episode makes "The Devil's Platform" feel a bit smarter and mature than some other episodes of this nearly forty-five year old series. All the jokes take on a deeper meaning if one possesses any cynicism whatsoever about American politics. When some extreme candidates win their races, the only rational explanation seems, even today, that the politician in question has made a deal with the Devil.  

The episode also seems aware of the pitfalls of populism. Kolchak calls Palmer the "great white hope of the blue collar" voter,  and in real life we know too well especially today, the pitfalls of that kind of populism.

This episode also succeeds because of its brief but powerful insights into Kolchak's "insatiable desires."  It seems that our beloved Kolchak dreams of winning a Pulitzer Prize, and getting a job in New York with a big, well-established paper (likely The New York Times). He doesn't want wealth, or power. He wants a bigger audience.  This is perfect. Kolchak wants respectability and to tell his stories, with less impediments.

Of course, in the end, Kolchak is not tempted to make a deal with the Devil to see his dreams come true.

Next week: "Bad Medicine."

Kolchak Blogging: "The Werewolf" (November 1, 1974)

In “The Werewolf,” Kolchak (Darren McGavin) is asked, at the last second, to replace Vincenzo (Simon Oakland) on an assignment aboard a cruise ship, the Hanover.  The Hanover is an old ship about to undertake its final voyage, and it is now housing a swinging singles cruise.

Kolchak boards the ship and befriends some swinging singles, including the movie-loving Paula Griffin (Nita Talbot).  As he gathers stories about the ship and its passengers, a new threat emerges. A NATO officer named Bernhardt Stieglitz (Eric Braeden) is grappling with lycanthropy.  As the full moon rises, he transforms into a murderous werewolf, just as he did in Montana, when he murdered an unsuspecting family.

With werewolf murders proliferating on the Hanover, Kolchak consults Paula about the only way to kill a werewolf. He soon realizes he must melt the buttons on the captain’s (Henry Jones) dress uniform to fashion silver bullets. 

Once the bullets are fashion, Kolchak must stalk the decks of the Hanover to find his supernatural quarry.

“The Werewolf” is a fun episode of Kolchak: The Night Stalker (1974-1975), though by this point the episode formula has “hardened” so that there are few surprises. Similarly, the monster costume for the titular werewolf is terrible, and does not bear close scrutiny.

The format or formula for stories on this series is well-established at this point. Kolchak ends up in some setting while reporting a story where he discovers that a supernatural or paranormal monster is involved, but runs smack up against the stonewalling forces of authority, who attempt to cover-up the truth, and keep it hidden from the public. Kolchak clashes with these forces of the Establishment, and then must take matters into his own hands, eliminating the monster himself. Throw in some witty repartee and sparring between Kolchak and Vincenzo, and you’ve got a recipe that repeats throughout the program.

The “swinging singles” context gives “The Werewolf” a sense of fun, as Kolchak must room with a ‘70s swinger played by Dick Gautier who persistently refers to him as part of the “fifth column,” rather than “the fourth estate.” Paula is also a fun character, and proves a worthy and resourceful ally for Kolchak. But like Faye in last week’s episode, she doesn’t recur in the series, despite the fact that there is strong chemistry between Paula and Kolchak.

Our stone-walling figure of the week is Henry Jones’ ship’s captain, who uses Maritime Laws to foil and block Kolchak at every turn. The episode’s best moment involves Kolchak’s decision to make silver bullets from the captain’s dress uniform, an act which doesn’t endear him to the officer.

Intriguingly, Stieglitz is a tragic character. He suffers from claustrophobia, dizziness, and nightmares. He is a sick man, not an intentional murderer, and yet the episode treats him with literally no sympathy, or empathy. So far, we have met homicidal murderers (“The Ripper,”) aliens who kill to return home (“They Have Been, They Are, They Will Be”) and blood-suckers (“The Vampire.”)  The werewolf here seems to be the most innocent, or at least not directly culpable of this rogue’s gallery.

The confrontations between the ship’s crew and the werewolf in the episode are laughable by today’s standards. There are a lot of acrobatics as people get thrown around, but not much in terms of scratches, bruises or bites. It’s very “G” rated, and very cartoonish.  

And the monster looks terribly fake.  

Also, there are some focus problems in the photography this week, with Carl being out of focus in the foreground of a shot for several seconds. The poor quality of the make-up and camera-work contribute to the idea that this is a series flying-by-the-seat-of-its-pants.

Next week: “Firefall.”

Kolchak Blogging: "The Vampire" (October 4, 1974)

In “The Vampire,” an old friend of Kolchak’s (Darren McGavin), James “Swede” Brightowsky (Larry Storch) visits Chicago’s INS office and tells Carl about a series of vampire-like killings in Las Vegas.  This piques his interest, and when Kolchak is assigned to interview a Far Eastern transcendental guru in Los Angeles, he makes some side-trips to Las Vegas.

When Vincenzo (Simon Oakland) demands the story about the guru, Kolchak gets a former bush-league journalist-turned-real estate agent, Fay Krueger (Kathleen Nolan) to write it, while he investigates the vampire. In this case, the vampire is a woman, Catherine Rawlins (Suanne Charny), a former show-girl who is now using her job as a call-girl to claim victims.

Although the local police detective working the case, Lt. Mateo (William Daniels) grows enraged with Kolchak’s insistence that a vampire is responsible for the body count. But Carl tracks Catherine down to her baronial estate in the Hollywood hills and plans to drive a stake through her heart.

Relatively early in the series run, Kolchak returns to a rerun monster: the vampire. Here, the “night stalking” takes the journalist back to the very haunts where he killed another vampire, Janos Skorzeny (in the popular TV movie, The Night Stalker).   The story is not particularly memorable in terms of the details, but “The Vampire,” like many episodes of the series, features a lurid, sleazy quality that separates it from most of the homogenized programming of the series’ era.

Here, the vampire is a showgirl turned hooker turned vampire, which is a descent from dreams to nightmares, if I’ve ever witnessed one. In some way, it’s a commentary on Hollywood, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. These are all places of enormous wealth, and also enormous vice. People like Catherine Rawlins go from pursuing a job in the entertainment industry to using their bodies to satisfy vices. Eventually, they become a bottom-feeding vampire, eking out a meager existence on the periphery, as a vampire.

As we have seen before, the supporting cast can make or break an episode. William Daniels -- the voice of KITT on Knight Rider (1983-1988) -- is Kolchak’s police detective foil this week, Mateo. Daniels is great at playing a slow-boil, and one can practically see the rage taking over his face, a step-at-a-time, as he contends with Kolchak’s wild theories. Kathleen Nolan is also great as Faye Krueger, a real estate agent who traveled west to pursue her dreams of wealth. In her previous life, she was a small-time journalist in North Carolina. Here, Kolchak teams up with Faye to write the article for Vincenzo that he doesn’t have time to write, but Faye sprinkles her news story with the architectural details one might expect of someone trying to sell houses.  Mateo and Faye add a lot of quirky humor to the story, and elevate “The Vampire” above its familiar monster of the week.

Perhaps the biggest disappointment in the casting is that Larry Storch only gets one scene as Kolchak’s slick friend, Swede, and doesn’t play a larger role in the overall adventure.  Storch, of course, would soon have his own supernatural investigations to handle on the Filmation Saturday morning series, The Ghost Busters (1975).

One weird note about “The Vampire:” the episode culminates with Kolchak burning a giant cross on the equivalent of the vampire’s lawn. That’s a loaded image, historically-speaking.  Though it makes a powerful visual, the story doesn’t really merit the use of such a racially-coded visual.

Next week: “The Werewolf.”

Kolchak Blogging: "They Have Been, They Are, They Will Be" (September 27, 1974)

As the World Series begins, Kolchak (Darren McGavin) is drawn into an investigation of several animal deaths at the Lincoln Park Zoo, as well as the unusual theft of two tons of led ingots from a local warehouse, one owned by Raydyne Electronics.

The story leads Kolchak to a resident on Mariposa Way, Mr.Brindle (Dick Van Patten), who complains about a foul-smelling substance on his lawn, which he believes the local government left there.

All these incidents relate to an extra-terrestrial incursion on Earth by apparently-invisible aliens. They have been eating the bone marrows of the zoo animals, and leaving the strange black muck behind, which Kolchak surmises is an alien digestive secretion.

Kolchak tracks the aliens to their flying saucer.

In inescapable cheapness hangs over “They Have Been, They Are, They Will Be,” an early episode (sometimes known by the alternate title of “U.F.O.”) that qualifies as Kolchak: The Night Stalker’s (1974-1975) most disappointing installment.

The visiting aliens are invisible (a cheap expedient), and so there is no visible monster-of-the-week to speak of. The episode’s last act reveals the alien saucer, and it’s a silver-plated jalopy, too, a chintzy vehicle that fails utterly to capture any sense of mystery, wonder, majesty or terror about the beings that have arrived on our world.

There are a lot of fireworks, stunts, and slow-motion photography in this “They Have Been, They Are, They Will Be,” and yet none of these bells-and-whistles do anything constructive. They only slow down the narrative. 

Basically, Kolchak puts all the disparate pieces together, and recounts (a fascinating) summation about “a traveler who has a break down, and stops for a bite to eat” on Earth, but the individual pieces involving led, hydrochloric acid, and bone marrow, don’t amount to much, individually-speaking, or together. There is some interesting discussion of “Wormwood” and the fact that there is no existing U.S. government agency dedicated to the study of UFOs, but not much else of interest occurs. An X-Files (1993-2002) episode in the 1990’s, intriguingly includes some of the same elements. “Fearful Symmetry” from the second season also features zoo animals, invisibility, and aliens.

The high-points of “They Have Been, They Are, They Will Be” are all non-genre related. Dick Van Patten puts in a great guest-appearance as an argumentative Chicago-an, dealing with an unwanted mess in his yard. Gordy the Ghoul is also back, running his illegal gambling pools from the city morgue, and acerbic, gravelly-voiced James Gregory plays Quill, the stone-walling police captain of the week. Gregory is suitably caustic and condescending to Kolchak, warning hi that “responsible journalists” risk “losing credibility” when reporting on a story-like this one.

The episode’s best moment involves the repartee between Kolchak and Vincenzo (Simon Oakland). Vincenzo of the “cast-iron” stomach is tested mightily, eating his gourmet dinner, as Kolchak goes over the nauseating tales of eaten bone marrow and the black excrement consisting of the marrow and hydrochloric acid.

It’s intriguing that Kolchak: The Night Stalker typically exceeds in sharp language, and crafting distinctive, memorable characters, even when the horror (or in this case, sci-fi…) aspects fail egregiously. That’s the case in this episode, and some of the scenes featuring the invisible extra-terrestrial border on the ridiculous.

Next week: “The Vampire.”

Kolchak Blogging: "The Zombie" (September 20, 1974)

During an investigation of the murder of several mobsters, Kolchak (Darren McGavin) learns that the victims had their spines snapped by the murderer, one with chicken blood on his person.  Looking into the case further, Kolchak learns that Francois Edmunds, a Haitian, was shot and murdered by the mob. He has returned from the grave to murder those responsible for his death. He is now a zombie, controlled by a zombie master, who leaves his earthen bed each night, and targets those who ended his life.

A frightened Kolchak plots to stop the zombie massacre. He tracks the zombie’s home to a junk yard, and there – armed with a sewing needle, threat, white candles, and salt, plans to sew the monster’s mouth shut and end the horrifying killing spree

If I could only recommend one episode of Kolchak: The Night Stalker (1974-1975) to a friend, it would be this episode, “The Zombie,” which is suspenseful, but also serves as a perfect time capsule of the mid-1970’s. Lest we forget it, Kolchak, The Night Stalker aired in the era of "hero" journalists like Woodward and Bernstein, right after the Watergate Scandal. Embedded in the series' DNA is the then-popular belief that one man can fight City Hall; that one man can make a difference. In the series, Kolchak is always battling corrupt cops or politicians and trying (and often failing...) to get the truth out to the people. This was before the age of a corporate news business and compliant "talking points" media. Kolchak -- for all his failures as a human being -- is a sterling journalist and a paragon of virtue in the sense that he always follows a story...no matter where it takes him. Unlike today’s media, which is more interested n ratings than the truth, he isn’t afraid to speak truth to power.

"The Zombie" reveals this "man against City Hall" aesthetic in spades. While investigating a gangland "syndicate" killing, Kolchak begins to suspect that a Mamalois, a voodoo priestess, has activated a zombie to kill the mobsters who put out a hit on her grandson, Haitian Francois Edmonds. Kolchak works every angle of the case, which allows him to consult the series' colorful recurring cast members, like John Fiedler's on-the-take "Gordy the Ghoul," an enthusiastic informant who works in City Morgue. The case also puts Kolchak in direct opposition with police captain Leo Winwood (Charles Aidman), who has a dark involvement with the mob case. In voice-over, Kolchak describes his relationship with Winwood as "long and bloody; like the Crusades...only without the chivalry."

One of the episode's best moment involves Kolchak putting Captain Winwood on the spot while he conducts an official press briefing (a ritual Kolchak derides as "a foolish game.") The Helen Thomas or Sam Donaldson of his day, Kolchak pummels the evasive Winwood with facts until the dishonest police captain threatens to have him expelled. Why our White House Press couldn't push Sarah Huckabee Sanders this way is beyond me. A liar in the service of power needs to be called out, regularly.

Another aspect of the episode involves Kolchak tangling with Monique Marmelstein, the new partner Vincenzo has assigned him. Monique is a pudgy, annoying presence who got her job at INS through what she calls "nespotism" (but she means nepotism.) Just as the Winwood character is found to be corrupt; so does Kolchak here find corruption in his INS office. It turns out Monique's uncle is a powerful figure in local politics, so Vincenzo has no choice but to accommodate her on his staff. At a police shoot-out, however, Kolchak finds an inventive way to keep Monique out of his way: the always loquacious Kolchak jaw-bones Monique into hiding in the trunk of his car; and then locks her in. Not very nice. But undeniably effective.

The political undercurrents of Kolchak and the pervasive context of Watergate are always fascinating elements of the series, but as a horror fan I admire "The Zombie" for its spine-tingling denouement. Convinced that a zombie is being resurrected nightly for revenge killings, Kolchak researches the ways to kill it. He discovers that zombies often rest in the "places of the dead" (mortuaries, graveyards, etc.) and that to kill one he must pour salt into the mouth, and then use needle and thread to sew the lips "very tightly" together. However, that mode of execution only works if the zombie is dormant. If awake, the undead can be killed by strangulation. But ever try strangling a zombie before?

Kolchak finds his living-dead quarry at an unconventional "place of the dead," an auto junkyard (where cars go to die.). In particular, Kolchak happens across the zombie in a wrecked funeral hearse. We watch with mounting suspense as Kolchak crawls in through the back of the hearse and methodically pours salt into the zombie's mouth. He slowly takes out the needle and is about to begin sewing the lips shut when...

...the zombie's eyes open and Kolchak - terrified - shrieks and hightails it out of the hearse.

I have to admit, this is one of the things I absolutely love about this character. So often in horror movies and television lately, characters face extreme situations (like vampires, zombies and werewolves) with a bit too much composure and acceptance for my taste. In keeping with Kolchak's 1970s-vibe and "everyman" nature, the character is foolhardy, but when faced with a monster, pretty damn terrified. Upon seeing the zombie awake, Kolchak turns tail and runs like hell. "Suspension of disbelief" is important in horror and science fiction, and if the characters don't respond in a truthful manner to the strange events around them, I found suspension of disbelief is lost. A lot of movies and TV shows today can't be bothered to actually generate suspense or have characters react in a realistic way. But Kolchak is a dogged everyman, and reacts how you or I might.

So Kolchak turns tail and runs through the junkyard, the white-eyed zombie hot on his heels. With a degree of ingenuity and on the fly, Kolchak manages to trick the lunging zombie into a noose, hence the necessary strangulation of the creature. But the point is that it all looks very unplanned, very spontaneous, and therefore very human. Kolchak: The Night Stalker did things in this fashion all the time, and the audience found itself rooting for the little guy not just as he battled City Hall, but as he battled terrifying monsters too (or more appropriately, a different kind of monster than he found ensconced in the hallways of power).

Of course, the very nature of episodic television assures that the protagonist survives his or her travails week-to-week, but the very fallible nature of this particular protagonist actually makes the viewer forget such convention and hold on tight to that critical suspension of disbelief. Carl has heart, but he's hapless and -- like most of us -- not exactly courageous in the face of the unknown. That's why I love the guy; he's us.

With its roving night-time camera, hand-held moments promoting immediacy, staccato character banter, sharp writing and unforgettably individual protagonist, Kolchak: The Night Stalker is really a shining jewel in genre television's crown. It's a one-of-a-kind production, and "The Zombie" reveals why. It moves effortlessly from comedy to social commentary, to monsters-on-the-loose with utter confidence, not to mention an overwhelming sense of charm and fun.

Next Week: “They Have Been, They Are, They Will Be.”

Cult-TV Movie Review: The Night Strangler (1973)

The TV-movie sequel to the 1971 hit The Night Stalker finds our hero, downtrodden reporter Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) in Seattle, Washington -- still trying to sell his incredible story about vampires in Las Vegas.

In a dingy bar one night, his former editor Tony Vincenzo hears him making his case, and -- taking pity on the guy -- hires Kolchak as a reporter at Seattle's Daily Chronicle (run by John Carradine!) Of course, (and Vincenzo knows this...) he's just asking for trouble bringing Carl Kolchak aboard.

For before long, Carl has run smack into another bizarre, perhaps even supernatural case. Several beautiful belly dancers have been murdered (strangled...) in the Pioneer Square Area of the city. A little research reveals that women have been attacked there, in that very spot, every 21 years. There were crimes in 1952, 1931, 1910, 1889 and 1868. Interestingly, the murders in 1868 took place before a massive earthquake, in a portion of the town now underground.

Kolchak's quest to find the perpetrator of these horrid crimes leads to a scientist once interviewed by Mark Twain, named Richard Malcolm (Richard Anderson). It seems this man was a Union Soldier in the Civil War and has been keeping himself alive ever since with a home-made "elixir of life" consisting of milk, meat, hair...and blood extracted from the necks of healthy women! 

Karl ventures into the old underground city to confront this nearly immortal (and clearly psychotic...) man, and ends the reign of terror once and for all. Of course, Karl gets fired for interfering with the police; and this time his editor Vincenzo gets fired too. Together, the two bickering friends drive out of Seattle together, hoping for a better future in New York.

The Night Strangler, written by the incomparable Richard Matheson, is not quite in the class of The Night Stalker, perhaps because at times it feels like a note-for-note repetition of the original TV movie, with Kolchak running up against bull-headed, CYA-type authorities (mayors, policemen, bureaucrats...) while he works to solve a supernatural case. 

What's so interesting this time is Matheson's decision to feature a scientific, rather than supernatural explanation for the crimes. The monster is still a vampire (one who strangles his victims), but one who operates via science, not biology. Seen as bookends, the two tele-movies make interesting sides of the same coin, even if the original isn't quite as good as the original.

I also love the idea of a forgotten, subterranean existing beneath a modern one. It's sort of a perfect reflection of Kolchak's world. There's the surface world which appears normal, and the night-time world of monsters.

Watching The Night Strangler, I began to crystallize the reasons I love Darren McGavin's portrayal of Kolchak so much. This reporter wears white sneakers, you may notice if you watch the telefilms and TV episodes. Not much is said about this, but these are running shoes, worn because Kolchak is always running after a story. I just love that small, little detail; that Kolchak wears the same suit and hat, but also the very shoes that help him track down interviewees during an investigation.

The Night Strangler also makes clear just what an influence Kolchak was on The X-Files. 

The story of an immortal killer, needing infusions of new life (by murder...) every twenty one years, reminded me instantly of a first season episode called "Squeeze," the first part of the Tooms saga wherein a strange serial killer needs to eat the livers of healthy humans. The idea of elongating life; of a killer coming out of shadows every few decades; and the skepticism of the police are common features between The Night Strangler and the adventures of Mulder and Scully.

I also got a real kick out of The Night Strangler's humorous finale, with Vincenzo and Kolchak hollering at each other over every little detail. Despite all the yelling, it's clear that they are best buddies. And that, quite nicely, is an element continued in the TV series.

Cult-TV Movie Review: The Night Stalker (1971)

The Night Stalker, a TV movie first aired in 1971, was -- and for many years after, remained -- the highest rated TV movie of a generation.

It also introduced a hero, Kolchak who returned in a second TV-movie, a TV series in 1974, and a reboot in the mid-2000s. 

Our journey begins in Las Vegas in the early 1970s.  

There, down-on-his luck reporter Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) is working for a rag called the Daily News under the thumb of editor, Tony Vincenzo. It seems Kolchak was once one of the great journalists of the day, but he's been fired more times than you can count, and is looking for that one earth-shattering story that will catapult him back to the big time in New York City. He shares these dreams with a local prostitute, Gale Foster (Carol Lynley), but she isn't holding out much hope.

In the latter half of May, however, a series of brutal killings are uncovered in Las Vegas. Four women are found dead, their corpses drained entirely of blood. And oddly, the coroner (Larry Linville) has found saliva in their wounds, indicating that an honest-to-goodness vampire might be the culprit.

Kolchak considers this avenue of investigation, but runs into a brick wall erected by the mayor and Las Vegas's chief law enforcement official, Sheriff Butcher (Claude Akins). They refuse to consider Kolchak's theory, and consequently more citizens die.

Finally, once the culprit is named - Janos Skorzeny - the police are unable to stop the 70 year-old man because bullets seem to have no effect on the oddly youthful assailant. Realizing it is up to him to put anen d to this nightmare, Kolchak locates the vampire's house, rescues Skorzeny's latest victim, and finishes off the vampire with a well-placed stake to the heart. But In order to keep the story quiet, Butcher prepares to charge Kolchak with murder...unless he leaves Las Vegas for good. 

Kolchak does so, and also learns that Gale Foster has left town, never to be heard from again.

Richard Matheson (1926 - 2013) is a legitimate genre great, and as such penned some brilliant teleplays, including Duel (1973), too many Twilight Zones to name here and, of course, The Night Stalker. 

In this project, he provides reporter Carl Kolchak with a real and individual voice, a stirring and interesting first case, and even a sense of humor. The late Darren McGavin (1922 - 2006) does the rest, playing up the role with a rat-a-tat delivery that is unmatched to this day. 

Kolchak's not your typical TV protagonist, but rather a persistent voice for the truth, a fact which distinguishes him in this era of fake news. The Night Stalker introduces us to a man who lives on the edge, in a cynical time, and yet there is an optimism here that I appreciate, having a training in journalism. Embedded in Kolchak's DNA is the once-popular and common-held belief that one man can fight City Hall; that one man can make a difference. In the telefilm and follow-up series, Kolchak is always battling corrupt cops or politicians and trying (and often failing...) to get the truth out to the people. This was before the age of a corporate news business and a compliant media. Kolchak -- for all his failures as a human being -- is a sterling journalist and a paragon of virtue in the sense that he always follows a story...no matter where it takes him.

The made-for-TV movie's story itself -- about a vampire on the loose in Las Vegas -- remains more intriguing, perhaps, for what it doesn't directly tell audiences. Rather than spoon-feeding audiences the background information, there's plenty here that is just mentioned in passing.

For instance, late in the story, Kolchak breaks into Skorzeny's house and finds an open traveler's crate. Inside the trunk, we see Skorzeny's disguises, and even some make-up. He finds face-paint and wigs, and instantly (but importantly, without comment...) we get a sense of the vampire's long history, and his travels from Berlin to London to Canada to the United States (as enumerated in a police press conference.) 

It's just a nice little touch that acknowledges how a vampire could be immortal, and as a consequence of that life span, well-traveled to boot.

I also admire the artistic and efficient way this TV film was shot by director John Llewelyn Moxey. The opening shots are hand-held, on-the-spot views of a busy strip in Vegas at night, and the atmosphere is pure seventies, pure sleaze. 

As a set-up for the first vampire attack in a dark alley, it's just perfect how quickly and cogently a sense of atmosphere is mastered with one tool -- a hand-held camera -- and one well-observed location (a crowded street corner.) It's an informative opening shot, and an atmospheric one too. The hand-held feel of the camera makes us feel tense immediately, like we're among the street walkers.  There's a feeling here that we're going to see an underside to an underside of Las Vegas.

Watching the tele-film, I also noticed how the soundtrack goes almost completely silent during Kolchak's long, tense exploration of Skorzeny's house. No mood music to speak of; very few sound effects, even. The sequence must have lasted a good four or five minutes, and when the music and sound effects did finally arrive (as Skorzeny returns home...) the transition from silence simply made the denouement all that more exciting.

One of the things that I will always love about Darren McGavin's Kolchak is the fact that we say he's a hero, but he really isn't a traditional, physical hero. As displayed here, Kolchak's great gift is that he speaks truth and common sense to power. That's a wonderful trait. But it's not exactly something that comes in handy while monster hunting. So he's vulnerable in a very sympathy-provoking way.

There's a great moment in this telefilm when Kolchak walks to his car at night. He sits down, starts driving, and then gets a sense -- just a sense -- that there's someone in the car with him. 

He stops the car, jumps out in a panic, and learns that one of his informants has fallen asleep in the back seat. He's pissed off and humiliated that he reacted in such a fashion, and we get a laugh out of him. There's absolutely nothing heroic or grand about Kolchak's case of the creeps or jitters (or his embarrassment afterwards), but boy is it human, and therefore realistic. McGavin's humorous, honest and human portrayal greatly enhances the efficacy of the blood-curdling finale. 

None of the action in the film would work half-as-well if McGavin were a more traditionally handsome, more physically "capable" kind of action-hero. As it is, we breathe a sigh of relief that he made it through the night! (Let alone a TV series and a series of "monsters of the week.")

Outré Intro #6: Kolchak The Night Stalker (1974-1975)

A horror TV cult-classic from the 1970s, Kolchak: The Night Stalker remains the great grandfather of the "monster of the week" genre in some crucial ways.  The series follows the adventures of a rumpled reporter, Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) as he uncovers evidence of monsters in plain sight. 

But -- because the series was produced concurrently with  the Watergate Scandal that felled President Nixon -- there's a strong Man versus City Hall aspect to the series, in addition to the monsters. 

In short, Kolchak the truth-seeking journalist must not only contend with vampires, werewolves, zombies and the like, but politicians and civil servants as well, and that's a key aspect of this series.

Kolchak -- in the spirit of the era's Woodward and Bernstein -- seeks to get the truth to his readership, but is stymied by power and corruption at many turns.  

The series' opening montage is brief, but also beautifully-done.  The following montage captures very nicely Kolchak's singular -- or is it solitary? -- presence, and prepares us for the chills and thrills to come.

Kolchak: The Night Stalker's introductory montage begins, quite literally, with a whisper in the dark. Late at night, Carl enters the office of the INS, the news service he writes for, and whistles a pleasant tune.  At first, as Kolchak enters the office, his space in the frame is abbreviated or cut-off.  On both sides of him are darkness, and this is a crucial metaphor. On one side, monsters.  On the other...avaricious politicians.

After a moment, we see that we are gazing at Kolchak through a book shelf (which accounts for the blackness bracketing him...) and the camera tracks him as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

Next, a pan follows Kolchak as he moves to his desk.  He throws his hat on a rack, and it falls off.  He doesn't notice, and that's a key indicator that his mind is not exactly on what he is doing, but on bigger issues instead.

Next, Kolchak reveals his vocation as a writer or journalist to us.  

After sitting down at his desk, he gets out a blank sheet of paper, inserts it into the typewriter and begins typing.  Importantly, the montage cuts to several insert shots of the type-writer mechanism at this juncture. We see the keys clicking and other details.  

These close-up shots inform us that mechanics are indeed going to be important in the following tales.  We are going to be asking -- like Kolchak the journalist -- who, what, when, where, how and why?

The focus on the typewriter mechanism hints at the actual "mechanisms" Kolchak's reports as he assembles his impossible tales.

Next, we are introduced to our series lead, Darren McGavin.

What remains so intriguing here is that the credit with his name on it is followed up by a close-up of the typewriter keys pounding out the word "victim."  

This seems an almost subconscious indicator of further danger.  In seeking a story, Kolchak could become part of the story, and an unfortunate part as well.

The final section of Kolchak: The Night Stalker's opening montage moves purposefully from the mechanics of Kolchak's vocation to the horror vibe of the series.  to wit, Kolchak looks up from his typewriter as if he has heard something, or as if he is aware of some malevolent presence nearby.

We move quickly from his quizzical face to extreme close-up insert shots of a clock, and then a fan spinning.

There's a definite sense of building momentum here, as a kind of tension-based metronome ticks faster.  

At first, that metronome is the beat of the clacking keys.  

Then it is represented by the pace of the seconds hand on the clock.  

Finally, we are at top speed, watching the spinning blades of a fan.

Suddenly, we zoom in on Kolchak's face, and he pivots towards us, detecting out of the corner of his eyes the previously hidden terror.  

He turns towards us (and we are in the position of that unseen terror), and the image freeze-frames on his inquisitive but terrified orbs.  

As we zoom in on the freeze frame, we fade to black.  The monster is confronted.

Without ever revealing a monster, a crime scene, blood, or any other tell-tale element of the horror genre, Kolchak: The Night Stalker's opening montage (accompanied by Gil Melle's at first pleasant and then driving title composition....) reveals a man alone, in darkness, reckoning with something terrifying and, at least at first unseen.

Commendably, the entire montage plays as a representation of a journalist's life.  He or she walks alone,until a story literally seems to attack, galvanizing the attention.

Next week: The Incredible Hulk (1978 - 1981)