HOW AWFUL ABOUT ALLAN

Anthony Perkins

HOW AWFUL ABOUT ALLAN (1970 telefilm). Director: Curtis Harrington. Executive producer: Aaron Spelling.

Legally blind, if only psychosomatically, Allan (Anthony Perkins) is released from an institution and comes back to the house where he lived with his sister, Katherine (Julie Harris). Allan was unable to save his father when fire broke out in their home, and Katherine was disfigured during a rescue attempt. Needing money, Katherine takes in a mysterious boarder who rarely speaks and whom Allan can hardly see. He is convinced that there is something sinister about this stranger, and that he is trying to kill him. Allan's former fiancee and neighbor, Olive (Joan Hackett of Dead of Night), does her best to convince him that his worries are all in his head. But Olive may have no idea what Allan is really dealing with. How Awful About Allan certainly has an intriguing premise (taken from a novel by Henry Farrell, who also did the teleplay), and the cast is very interesting, but the developments, besides being psychologically dubious, are not as compelling as one might have hoped for. Giving an unremarkable, even disinterested, performance, Perkins [Pretty Poison] makes Allan completely unsympathetic, and the best work comes from Harris and Hackett -- the former, however, being too true to her character, does little to keep the audience from figuring out the final revelation. Producer Spelling and author Farrell also teamed up for The House That Would Not Die with Barbara Stanwyck the same year.

Verdict: It's understandable why this flick is pretty much forgotten. **.

VICKI

Crain, Reid, Peters and Showalter in a tense moment

VICKI (1953). Director: Harry Horner.

From the start we learn that a model-actress named Vicki Lynn (Jean Peters) has been murdered, while the rest of the movie explores who might have done the deed and provides flashbacks (supposedly) illuminating the woman and her friends and acquaintances. Among them are her sister, Jill (Jeanne Crain), manager Steve (Elliott Reid), boyfriend Larry (Max Showalter/Casey Adams), ham actor Robin (Alexander D'Arcy), and even a grizzled, homely and obsessed cop named Ed Cornell (Richard Boone) who is relentless in his pursuit of one particular suspect. A nerdy room manager named Harry is a bit overacted by Aaron Spelling, who found much greater success as a television producer years later. This lower case rip-off of Laura features a low-rent cast, superficial characterizations, and an utterly mediocre performance from Boone. The other actors are okay, with Peters, who has been better elsewhere, un-riveting in the central role; four years later she married Howard Hughes and made no more theatrical films. Crain and Peters were also together in Take Care of My Little Girl. Horner also directed The Wild Party.

Verdict: Probably not even Clifton Webb could have saved this from the scrapheap. **.

GREAT OLD TV: BURKE'S LAW

BURKE'S LAW (1963 - 1966). Produced by Aaron Spelling.

This show had a really terrific premise. Amos Burke (Gene Barry) was a very wealthy, sophisticated and cultured man who happened to be a police captain in Los Angeles. He drove to crime scenes in a Rolls Royce chauffeured by Henry (Leon Lontoc). His partners were young, likable turk Tim Tilson (Gary Conway) and older veteran Les Hart (Regis Toomey). Naturally the show had a lighter approach than other cop shows, and sometimes was an out and out (and rather silly) comedy. Still, many episodes were intriguing, well-acted, and suspenseful. The show's other gimmick was to cast well-known former movie stars (or hasbeens), as well as familiar character actors, in supporting roles. Carolyn Jones scored as triplets in one episode, and Lizabeth Scott had a couple of notable guest shots as well. One episode cast Basil Rathbone as a flamboyant director and Edward Everett Horton as a Shakespearean actor. Gene Barry played the playboy detective with just the right note of insouciance and sardonicism, and the other regulars were top-notch as well. For the third season the supporting cast was let go and the show's title was changed to Amos Burke, Secret Agent due to the then-popular spy craze on TV (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.; I Spy etc.). This, too, was an entertaining program but it only lasted one season. About thirty years after the show premiered, it was revived, again with Barry in the lead, but there were only 27 episodes.

Verdict: Fun whodunit. ***.