Reviews

Wait, what? Who's this pretender Peter Turgeon? Who slipped us a bench-warming sub just as the story was building to a crescendo? Woodard and Burke were proving a winning team, and Gerringer so inhabited the character of Dr. Woodard it was mind boggling to think the producers canned him. Well, they did NOT can him. Turns out Bob Gerringer made a grandstand play, choosing to side with striking technicians rather than honor his commitment to the show, to his castmates, and to the fans. "He chose... poorly," to aptly quote a movie released the year Gerringer died.

Peter Turgeon stepped into an unenviable position and I gotta admit he did an admirable job, even if he's no Gerringer. I appreciated his attempts at aping Gerringer's vocal inflections (though nobody will say "Joolee-UH" quite like Bob did). And I'm sure Joan Bennett appreciated Turgeon's rescuing her from her flubbed line, missaying "situation" instead of "solution," which he seamlessly corrected.

Seeing Turgeon assume the mantle brought to mind earlier cast switcheroos, most notably Burke Devlin. I thought I'd never adjust to Anthony George in the part, and while Mitchell Ryan will always be the definitive Burke, George has settled into the role and made it his own. Who remembers the original Sam Evans and Willie Loomis? Or the original Dr. Woodard, Richard Woods?

The prime-time soaps faced the same struggles. I remember DYNASTY recasting both of the original Carrington kids, Steven and Fallon, and DALLAS bringing aboard Donna Reed to play Ewing family matriarch Miss Ellie for a single season before the original actress wanted back in.

I will miss Gerringer but will miss him less knowing the shortsighted reason for his quitting. Did he continue to watch the show and regret not completing the suspenseful story arc? Or was it just a job to him? Time has proven that any victory he felt he won over ABC was pyrrhic at best.

As for this episode 335, it coulda, woulda, shoulda been an 8-star episode but was dragged down by the recasting and--talk about choosing poorly--the dumb decision to include the anticlimactic and momentum-breaking discussion of Caleb Collins' will. Yawn. Still a strong episode boasting Turgeon's first appearance and the sole appearance by William Shust as the psychiatrist Dr. Fisher. I laughed at the parody of psychoanalysis, as Fisher, spouting impenetrable psychobabble, revealed just how wildly afield his interpretation of David's dream was. The woman with the medallion must be his mother, right? Uh, nope.

Fisher did drop the detail about fangs that gave Woodard his epiphany (a late-show Dracula movie should have done that months ago!). But what in that remark sparked Woodard to race back to the mausoleum and to leave Burke behind? I would sure want a friend along if I were confident my worst suspicions were about to be proven correct. And what a shock ending as Sarah appears to Woodard! Tune in Monday to hear Sarah say, "Where's my frikkin' flute, ya light-fingered Sawbones?"

Leslie Nielsen's annual appearances on the series have proven a highlight, so I was disappointed to discover this was his third and last hurrah, but I was not disappointed in the story or in Nielsen's heartrending performance.

Now that said, I agree wholeheartedly with previous reviewers that the story was shockingly soft on Joe and that the free pass he received minimized Joe's partner's needless death as well as the anger and grieving of the widow and son. "Don't hate him," Stone tells Corky mere hours after his father's death, "It's a disease. A disease called loneliness." Wow, Mike, so Joe Landers is the real suffering victim here? Because his wife walked out on him five years earlier?

I have to add I rolled my eyes when Mike has at the forefront of his memory these personal details about colleagues, especially uniformed officers. "Five years ago? Wasn't that when Betty walked out on him?" C'mon, who would know that? Mike Stone isn't the guy you'd go to for a sympathetic shoulder upon which to pour out your personal problems.

So was this a "very special episode"? No, but you could see it from here when Mike veered into a public service announcement on the walk out of the office, data dumping on Steve statistics about alcoholism in America and giving AA a plug. Officer Jeff will never know why Steve turned down his offer to go toss back a couple beers, as if Mike and Steve's abstaining from alcohol that night would somehow atone for Joe's sins.

Let's keep it real and admit it's hard to watch an older Leslie Nielsen dramatic performance and not think of Lt. Frank Drebin, especially when Nielsen is playing a cop. But Nielsen was so compelling as Joe that I forgot all about Drebin... until he threatened to run in that rummy for vagrancy. That scene just cracked me up even as I appreciated its poignancy. Here's Joe hitting rock bottom, sitting on the curb drinking alongside two bums accosting him for a swig and who understandably laugh at his trying to play policeman to them.

Okay, gilding the lily was having the Salvation Army band playing "Amazing Grace," which brought to my mind GUYS N' DOLLS. At least Joe didn't take the pledge and climb on the wagon in some maudlin display.

Adding immeasurably to the episode's heft was Ric Carrot as Corky Shaffer. He had a major role and played a pivotal part and really deserved to be listed in the opening credits. I know Carrot primarily from his later live-action Saturday morning sci-fi series SPACE ACADEMY, so it was great fun seeing him in this different role and doing it so well.

Sad was the short shrift veteran actor Jock Mahoney received playing ill-fated Officer Mel Shaffer. He only had a few lines and then bang, he was gone. Not only was Mahoney impressive as Tarzan in a couple pictures but he headlined his own late-fifties Western series, YANCY DERRINGER. He deserved better than he got.

I cringed through the over-emoting of Jacqueline Scott as the grieving widow but admired the stoic and ever-hopeful Susan Strasberg as concerned wife Helen Graves. I agreed with the street punks who cried "police brutality," especially after that crusty old cop yanked Franky away from his pregnant wife in mid-kiss!

Speaking of Frank Graves, Robert Drivas was excellent as the wrong man driving the wrong make and model at the wrong time. Drivas will always be imprinted on my memory as Chris Vashon in that celebrated three-part HAWAII FIVE-O epic, so I was immediately suspecting he was guilty of something after he took off with tires squealing after the shooting. It was only after he was interrogated in Stone's office did I begrudgingly believe he was innocent. A fine performance from a fine actor... but that suit? Hoo-boy. Okay, it was 1974. I mean, there's Joe Landers driving a yellow Pinto, for cryin' out loud.

I learned that today, February 11, 2025. The date I enjoyed the episode and wrote this review, would have been Leslie Nielsen's 99th birthday (he died in 2010 at age 84). It was serendipitous I started the third season tonight and caught his closing appearance on the series. Of his three guest spots, I rank "One Last Shot" as number two, "Legion of the Lost" third, and "Before I Die" as number one. All are good, however, and well worth watching and rewatching.

Watching 1960's epic film THE ALAMO it wasn't John Wayne's Davy Crockett or Richard Widmark's Jim Bowie that proved so compelling compared to Laurence Harvey's Col. William Travis, right? I mean, wasn't Travis the man you just yearned to see take center stage? If you answered yes, you stand with Bob and Wanda Duncan and likely enjoyed their exercise in squandered potential. The rest of us ask in bitter bemusement, how could they have messed this up?

The star-studded movie ran a whopping two hours and forty-two minutes and proved compelling all the way through, but "The Alamo" episode of TIME TUNNEL runs fifty minutes and proves a dreary and dull affair. Again, how did they manage to mess this up?

Ditching Davy Crockett. If people know anything about the Alamo it's that Davy Crockett died there fighting till his last breath. So why is he inexplicably and inexcusably MIA from this episode? Yeah, eagle-eyed viewers will spot a fellow in a coonskin cap when Doug and Tony are brought into the ill-fated fort, but that's it. And don't tell me Disney held the rights to the character. Crockett is a historical figure, not a fictional creation, so you can't hold the rights to Crockett any more than a company could hold rights to Abraham Lincoln, star of last week's episode.

Benching Jim Bowie. The second most iconic and fascinating figure at the Alamo was Jim Bowie, famous for the knife that bears his name (Frankie Lane sang a catchy song about it). But Bowie is benched for most of this story and then sent to the showers after taking his famous fall thanks to Tony. In his too few scenes, Bowie brought buckskinned bombast to the otherwise staid proceedings.

An aside, the real Jim Bowie was 39 on the day the Alamo fell. In the 1960 film he was played by 45-year-old Richard Widmark, and here by a 57-year-old Jim Davis. I loved Davis as Jock Ewing, but boy was he wildly miscast as Jim Bowie.

The Maguffin of Doug's Concussion. We're thirteen shows in and the formula is showing and wearing thin. Why do Doug and Tony have to separate in virtually every story? This episode would have been so much better had all the action been confined to the Alamo. Doug's is twice knocked on the noggin and is seeing double and can't even hold his head up. At least until after Tony takes off on his fool's errand to bring back a doctor, immediately after which Doug is suddenly hale, hearty and in fighting trim.

Wow, what an obvious a ploy to give Tony a solo side-adventure. I wouldn't care if it were good, but it was so painfully lame. Tony in a rookie move gets captured by the Frito Bandito and hauled bound and gagged to the local generale, who just happens to be in the company of the very doctor Tony is looking for. How convenient, coincidental, and contrived!

Too Much Travis and Reynerson. It's beyond rational thought why Bob and Wanda Duncan decided to swing the spotlight off the colorful characters of Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie and instead shine it on the dull martinet Travis and the fictional Reynerson, thus inflicting a mortal wound on the narrative. Travis was just a redressed Custer from a few weeks ago, and Reynerson was simply the formula's necessary plot device of an ally to assist Doug and Tony. With them as the leading guest stars, the show never achieved escape velocity.

Who else is growing weary with the now obligatory "accidental" bringing through the tunnel the wrong person? Cue another pop-eyed and jaw-dropped denizen of the past whom our crack crew/crew on crack locked onto by mistake. I was waiting for General Kirk to pull rank on Colonel Travis, but no, Kirk just shows the dazed visitor a video of his impending death and sends him back through the tunnel.

Is Doug a scientist or a historian? How many historians would know the exact date the Alamo fell? Doug does. And Doug also has no misgivings about playing his prescience of the future as a supernatural gift, really stringing along the gullible Reynerson, bragging with a mystical portentousness that he knows events a hundred years and more into the future.

In the end, what could have been--should have been--a tense nailbiter of a story as Doug and Tony race against a clock inexorably ticking down to a massacre sunk into a talky and dull affair that did a real disservice to the real-life drama of the Alamo.

The Tennysons are still traveling in the American Southwest, this time visiting Grandpa's friend and retired Plumber Wes on a Navajo reservation. Wes' granddaughter Kai performs a tribal dance that inadvertently summons the Yenaldooshi--a Navajo werewolf! Oops. Ben to the rescue, as always.

Werewolf stories can be polarizing. Me, I like Lon Chaney as Wolfie chasing Bud and Lou in ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN, and Jack Russell ripping and roaring in Marvel Comics' "Werewolf by Night." But I'm not a fan of the more vicious and visceral modern takes on werewolves that began in 1981 with the movies AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON and WOLFEN. The Yenaldooshi springs squarely from the latter camp.

A fascinating revelation to this longtime reader of Erich von Daniken and Graham Hancock is that the Yenaldooshi is not a native American nor even Terran werewolf at all...but an alien not of this earth!

Wes reports the Yenaldooshi has been stealing satellite equipment, including a component off the Rustbucket. I groaned, fearing for sure the story was going to slide headlong into "E. T. phone home" schmaltz with this misunderstood alien werewolf just trying to reach out and touch somebody back on his home planet. But no call was placed and thankfully no bike rides were taken across the moon or heartlights turned on before the credits flashed. Actually, there was no conclusive conclusion, leaving the door wide open for a return engagement.

The fact that someone bitten by a werewolf will himself turn into a werewolf is accepted as a given. But when Ben says a silver bullet will take down the werewolf, Wes dismisses that as "only in the movies." Turns out this Navajo werewolf can only be stopped by placing on its heart a silver pendant splashed with the juice of a certain cactus, the Arbol de Matrimonio. There really is such a cactus, Pereskia lychnidiflora, though what an ignominious introduction it made perforating Gwen's derriere!

That's something I enjoy about this show. Every character is presented as fallibly human and subject to the foibles that befall us all. Ben and Gwen are routinely humbled and humiliated, and even Grandpa sheepishly admits he has some 'splainin' to do after Wes saw Ben go Wildvine. After her dance, Kai breezed regally past a smiling Ben, but she learned pride goeth before the fall--or the flash flood--which quickly washed away her veneer of vain conceit.

Uh, isn't Ben a little young to be attracted to girls? I mean, he's only ten, right? Stick to your Sumo Slammer cards, kid.

More insight is given into Grandpa's past as he and Wes recall their Yeti encounter in the Himalayas. I wondered just how many Plumbers there were and did they exclusively combat alien menaces (was the Yeti also an alien?). Is there a new generation of Plumbers carrying on the good work? They're desperately needed. Just follow the Tennysons around on their Mad Mystery Tour and they will never lack work.

Is it me or is Cannonbolt being overused this season? Gimme Four-Arms any day over that bloated bowling ball. The influence of anime was evident in the Yenaldooshi vs. Benwolf battle. And I'll leave to Beavis and Butthead the commentary on the alien werewolf's unfortunate name ("heh-heh, he said dooshi"). After the tribe hung that one on him, can you blame him for wreckin' the rez?

Just tabbed over and learned that the Yenaldooshi is a real thing: In Navajo mythology, Yenaldooshi (aka "skin-walkers") are evil sorcerers who possess the ability to turn into, possess, or disguise themselves as an animal. They wear coyote skins and travel at night, tend to live in caves, storing recognizable human heads on shelves. Yenaldooshi gain power by killing a close relative, sometimes even a sibling. They also practice cannibalism and necrophilia. (paraphrased from Wikipedia and DeliriumsRealm).

Wow, who knew, huh? And apparently the Navajo would be happier if we didn't know as they don't share their skin-walker legends with outsiders. Back in 2016, JK Rowling sparked figurative war dances after writing about the Yenaldooshi in her History of Magic in North America. But chill out, chief, what little we learned of the legend on BEN 10 was bowdlerized and sanitized for Saturday mornings (no necrophilia and shelves of heads here, folks).

You can't tell the players without a program, so Yenaldooshi has yellow eyes and Benwolf has blue. And at some point Benwolf is wearing an Omnitrix belt (how does he activate it? Giving himself a gutpunch?). In his quieter moments talking with Grandpa and Wes, didn't Benwolf resembled Dynomutt or Ace the Bathound? (Yeah, those are Okay, Boomer references, but surely I'm not the only fifty-plus guy enjoying this awesome series. And don't call me Shirley.)

That said, I found this particular episode to be pretty "meh," but I am in the minority as it is currently the second top-rated show of the season, boasting a whopping 8.5 rating with 606 votes ("Be Afraid of the Dark" is also at an 8.5 but with only 545 votes). The werewolf fanbase is legion (darn Team Jacob Twilighters!)

Wow, nobody has reviewed this pilot movie in a decade? Okay, so MANIMAL is the Rodney Dangerfield of Glen Larson series. Does it deserve to be? I mean, is it TV Kryptonite? Does anybody care what David Letterman thought of the show forty years ago? If you're a fan of Eighties TV, I implore you to give it a fresh look. So many stars of the era appear herein. And despite its brief eight-episode run (due to playing against the JR juggernaut DALLAS), it deserves a place alongside other sci-fi fantasy series of the era like KNIGHT RIDER, A-TEAM, AIRWOLF, and yes, dammit, THE POWERS OF MATTHEW STAR.

Simon MacCorkindale was a star on the rise. I first saw him as an architect on DYNASTY, then in JAWS 3-D, and now getting his own series with MANIMAL. Jonathan Chase is very dashing and debonair, a sharp dresser, and a different kind of hero from the brash and bombastic Michael Knight, Remington Steele, and Templeton "Face" Peck on contemporary series. He's a college professor and a consultant, not a detective or a freebooting adventurer. Later and longer runs on FALCON CREST and COUNTERSTRIKE probably reduced this short-run series to a blip in the rearview mirror of MacCorkindale's memory, but he appointed himself well and I hope he remembered MANIMAL fondly before passing away much too young at 58 in 2010.

"Brash and bombastic" does describe Melody Anderson's character Brooke Mackenzie, however. She's a lady cop who leads with her gun and possesses great zeal but lacks knowledge, wisdom and experience. For example, cops should tail their suspects, not tailgate them, as Brooke does twice in this one show with unsurprisingly bad results. Yanking the camera from Grandpa's hands after commandeering it for police business wasn't especially endearing either. And then reading a man's diary? I'm guilty of forever seeing Anderson as FLASH GORDON's Dale Arden, but I'm already confident this series will give me a greater appreciation for her talents.

I guess it was "hello, I must be going" for Glyn Turman as Ty. That was disappointing as I have been a fan of his since catching him as funky musician Jamal in an episode of CANNON. He really shined in the flashback scene and the interrogation by cobra of Drew.

Speaking of whom, Terry Kiser played villain of the piece Charles Drew. Okay, does anybody post-1989 not think of him first as Bernie of WEEKEND AT BERNIE'S? But he was a fine dramatic actor with a flair for comedy, and that's evident here as he toggles between scary serious and likeable rogue (especially in the aforementioned cobra scene).

I recently saw Lloyd Bochner playing a Space Nazi on Glen Larson's earlier series BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, but Cecil Colby on DYNASTY is his standout role for me. He's such a pro at playing the unruffled villain with that cool and commanding voice. He ably fills that role here, although is arguably ruffled when attacked by a hawk and later a panther. He brings class and distinction to any show he appears on, including the much-maligned MANIMAL.

The original Bond girl Ursula Andress was alas this show's casting fail. On paper it was no doubt a casting coup, but let's keep it real and admit the two decades since DR. NO had not been kind. This wouldn't have been a liability had she played a matronly villainess, but the producers still pictured sexy Honey Ryder in their arrested minds and even gave her a peekaboo near-nude scene! It was more wince-worthy than wow. Her face was almost skeletal in appearance after one nip n' tuck too many. When Jonathan, transformed into Blofeld's cat, sneaks a peek inside her robe I thought he was slumming after having earlier relieved the unconscious Brooke of her tight and binding garments (it's okay, he's a doctor not Bill Cosby).

I usually see Reni Santoni playing heavies, so it was refreshing to see him cast as a police lieutenant, even if one short on patience (but aren't they all?).

Utterly Underutilized: Two performers received up-front billing but then appeared in only one scene. Talk about building us up only to let us down. First up was Wynn Irwin as Brooke's ill-fated partner Simmons. He gets only a handful of lines before biting it. For those who remember Irwin as Dom Deluise's lazy brother-in-law Arthur on LOTSA LUCK, it was like the bum finally got a job only to die on his first night. And what a heartbreaking waste of beauty and talent was DARK SHADOWS' Lara Parker, who played the prostitute Flossie and had insult added to injury when her entire appearance played out in a dingy bathroom! Angelique would never have fainted at the sight of dripping fangs....

I should add Ed Lauter to that list of squandered talent since he literally phoned in his entire appearance minus the short restaurant scene. He also provided this pilot episode a very memorable ending. Lauter is another of Glen Larson's troupe dating back at least to his playing the recurring role of Commander Cain on B. J. AND THE BEAR.

Beloved Character Actors in Cameos: Bert Rosario as the cabbie who got stiffed of his fare and John Quade as the drunk who goes on the wagon. Rosario actually enjoyed a bigger role than both Irwin and Parker and should have got front billing.

The plot itself was secondary to introducing the characters. Something about illegal arms trading to standard-issue terrorist types made more urgent by their adding nerve gas to the mix. This deal had to be a side hustle for Andress' character, a woman of regal Cruella Deville bearing who boasts of being wanted in every civilized country. I mean, she's personally supervising this small-scale convoy of trucks to a rust-bucket ship? It lacked the scale and glamour befitting her and Bochner's inflated reputations. But again, the plot was secondary to the characters.

I enjoyed the show and thought the 74-minute running time flew by... except when it slowed to a slog when we saw for the second, third, fourth time Jonathan's transformation. After the first couple times I groaned when the camera zoomed in on a hyperventilating Jonathan's eyes popping, clothes ripping, hand inflating and deflating. And the fuzzy panther paw with retractable claws? Yeesh. Yeah, they were shamelessly stealing a page from the INCREDIBLE HULK playbook, but it just didn't work here. Better they had swiped from SPACE: 1999 and Maya's quick zoom-in/zoom-out transformations that never slowed the pacing.

After the bait n' switch of small roles for front-listed stars, those protracted transformation scenes were my only real complaint. A nagging question was how Jonathan's clothes reappear after he transforms back to human form, especially after we see them rip down the back. Maybe that will be addressed as the series unfolds (but they better hurry because there are only seven more shows to go!).

The greatest gift of all: A Christmas episode that can be enjoyed any time of the year. Okay, okay, it ain't a Sumo Slammer Extreme Slamdown but it beats a bunny suit, right?

We encounter our intrepid trio traversing a torrid wasteland. The Rust Bucket is equipped with all kinds of high-tech... but not a working air conditioner? What possessed Grandpa to drive through Death Valley in summer, anyway?

After Grey Matter proves himself a gremlin in the a/c, the smoke-filled RV pulls over and the Tennysons are bewildered to behold a castle nestled in the desert sands, its entry guarded by two nutcracker soldiers. Gwen literally tugs on Grandpa's arm, begging to see it, which reminded me that in spite of all her pretenses to sophistication she is still a ten-year-old kid. Hey, nothing wrong with that!

The castle is the entryway into Holiday Village, a winter wonderland that looks like a Swiss Alps resort. Making snow angels and tossing snowballs stir up happy memories of winters past, especially on a sweltering 108-degree day in the desert just a few steps behind them. Or is that desert just a few steps behind them? This being the thirtieth episode of the series, we should all know by now that something just ain't right. And it's not.

Holiday Village appears to be literally frozen in time, as a friendly elf reveals the year is 1932 and adds he was only transformed from a little boy into an elf a few days ago. And it must be contagious because Ben and Gwen have sprouted pointy ears.

Yes, Gwen, there is a Santa Claus, and yes again, pointy ears will indeed be fashionable... if you ever visit a STAR TREK convention!

Speaking of that right jolly old elf, Grandpa has been conscripted into playing Santa Claus by the sinister Mr. Jingles. Max is confined to a chair and controlled by an old-school Atari joystick, dutifully waving to the elves from his lofty perch like a decrepit old pope. The "elves" are actually slave labor working in Jingles' underground cavern creating the perfect toys. Perfect? Uh, like Spit-Up Sally who goes all Linda Blair and barfs a load of pea soup into Ben's face? If that's Jingles' idea of perfect, give me a choo-choo with square wheels or a cowboy riding an ostrich any day!

Ben's busting the elves out of slavery becomes a fun spoof of INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM with cars careening along those endless train tracks in the air., A close second favorite scene is the Rube Goldberg contraption Ben has to navigate to reach the master controls to stop the insanity. And if pressed for a third favorite scene, it would be the machete-slashing nutcrackers making the Ice Capades cool again.

Query: Is Mr. Jingles a villain? Did his misdeeds earn him a scarlet letter of ignominy and a permanent place of shame in Ben's Rogues' Gallery? Me, I don't think so. He was trying to do the right thing, even if there were those unfortunate bad consequences of good intentions (you know, like abducting kids and turning them into docile elves to endlessly labor in his underground sweat shop). His goal wasn't world domination, just creating the perfect toys for the world's girls and boys. Grandpa was willing to forgive Jingles for dressing him up funny, tickling his nose, and playing him like a puppet on a string, and so, in the spirit of Christmas, we should too, right? C'mon, do it for the kids, for Ralphie, Tiny Tim, and Cindy Lou Who.

Random Observations and Thoughts

I'm still not sure why Ben often gets aliens other than what he wants, like wanting "four big arms" and getting Grey Matter instead. But in the show's opening, Ben wanted Grey Matter and got him, and later got Stinkfly on request. My theory is the Omnitrix somehow knows best what Ben will actually need, but I'm open to opposing theories to explain the fickle nature of the watch.

Ben makes another reference to Sumo Slammer and I just can't help believin' these hints are teeing up the ball for something big.

It's a Christmas episode but we get one line of Jingle Bells and that's it for sounds of the season. I wish the producers snuck in more public domain Christmas music. The haunting Carol of the Bells would have perfectly complemented the elves slaving away on the assembly line.

A poignant moment comes when the Tennysons realize they have never spent a Christmas together. Ben and Gwen's families are so "busy" at that time of year with parties and "shopping till you drop." It made me wonder how far apart Max and his children live that they can't gather together. I also had to wonder if Max was an absentee father off playing Plumber and is now reaping the "Cats in the Cradle" karmic load he sowed. Max's epiphany and the kids' positive reaction to it later left me hopeful the misplaced priority on busyness will be corrected come next Christmas...

...Assuming the kids ever get home again! I mean, Salem, Massachusetts last episode and Death Valley, California a week later (in TV time, anyway). Their travels look a lot like the zig-zag map made by our globetrotting Legion of Substitute Santas. Yeah, I know the show isn't necessarily linear, but this endless summerlong Magical Mystery Tour is making me suspect Max "knows not where he's going to," as the old song says.

PS: I'm grateful to the fans who have come before me and noted the winks, nods, and swipes from PINOCCHIO, NARUTO, and THE EXORCIST (talk about strange bedfellows). I would have missed 'em all. Knowing the wealth of pop culture history this series draws upon and weaves throughout episodes only gives me a greater appreciation for it.

Another fun episode that admirably breathes new life into the well-trodden trope of characters switching bodies. And while Charmcaster is a B-list adversary at best, she proved an amusing if not especially formidable opponent.

This is Charmcaster's second appearance and the first on her own. Back in the first season's "Tough Luck" she played sidekick to her uncle, the sorcerer Hex. Fittingly, she turns up in Salem, Massachusetts. Uh-oh, I feared, here comes the Cliff's Notes rehash of "The Crucible" we were all forced to read in school coupled with the chronological snobbery condemnation of Cotton Mather and company for the infamous witch trials, but nary a word was said. I credit the creators for trusting their audience to bring all the background necessary to enjoy the show and to appreciate why Charmcaster would turn up in this particular town.

"I love being a witch!" declared our antagonist after blowing out the second floor of a building, scattering the madding crowd of muggles. This teenage witch sure ain't Sabrina!

Now here's Gwen trying to calm a spooked horse and when it bolts , she grabs onto the carriage. Why? The streets were deserted (all the rational people having fled to safety). So why was she calming the horse and why was Grandpa inexplicably behind the wheel--er, the reins--of a runaway carriage? It's like they have compulsive do-gooderism even when not required by circumstances. Maybe they're trying to keep up with Ben?

Okay, Gwen getting flung from the carriage is what led to the body switcheroo with Charmcaster, so allowances must be made for the plot to get from point A to B. And don't think too hard about Charmcaster wanting to switch bodies with Ben just to get the Omnitrix. Would it be worth it for this beautiful young woman to give all that up to live her life in a ten-year-old boy's body? And as an insightful fan pointed out in the goofs section, Ben lacked the "magical aura," so even had Charmcaster successfully body-swapped with Ben, it's unlikely Charmcaster's plan would have even worked.

What is a "magical aura" anyway? I suspected those who dabble in the dark arts are cursed to have a familiar spirit or even a demonic presence without and within them. Yikes, what's Gwen getting herself into?

When Gwen-as-Charmcaster gets tossed into juvie the story veers left through the box office and into a 1970's grindhouse. Gwen gets WIP'd, as in the "women-in-prison" genre that was so popular back in the day (the apex arguably being the iconic "Angels in Chains" episode of CHARLIE'S ANGELS). All the components are here, toned down for Saturday morning, of course. There's the bully Pinky and her toady giving Gwen a snarky nickname, the bd guard with a mullet, the Miss Beazleyesque lunchlady serving up slop with organic earwax she grew herself (ugh! Hey, c'mon, some of us out here are still eating our Fruity Pebbles!). Uh, isn't Gwen a little young to have seen ANIMAL HOUSE? She sure does a boffo Blutarsky shouting "Food Fight!" to get the party started.

Hmm, I wondered if Pinky was named as an homage to Fonzie's tough biker galpal, Pinky Tuscadero? Considering the preceding shoutouts to the Seventies, I'm thinking yeah.

A ton of fun, but for me, the wind went out of the sail once Charmcaster's switcheroo was revealed and then Ben and Gwen get switched. Yeah, there's some funny lines like Ben repulsed at Gwen's fruit salad lotions and Gwen revolted by Ben's fetid footwear, but it was all anticlimactic. Cannonbolt making matchsticks out of a 17th-century tall ship was wince-worthy for us history buffs (I'm still shuddering over what they did to Mt. Rushmore back in "Secrets"!). And how did Cannonbolt as a fast-rolling blurred ball manage to pick up a chain and wrap it around Charmcaster? Don't ask, I tell myself, just suspend disbelief and enjoy the ride.

And I did enjoy the ride! Charmcaster trying hard to be sweet Gwendoline with mixed success was a highlight. I enjoyed the octopi and lobster attacks and especially that chase on Segways (the show capturing that short-lived fad). Ben as Diamondhead had an Iceman as Spiderman thing going on to get across town that was pretty darn cool. All topped off with a smile-evoking ending with Charmcaster about to reap another girl's karma right in the kisser.

The second show in a row where Paladin plays Perry Mason, this time defending eccentric old coot Parker Fennelly. Raymond Burr's iconic legal drama launched at the same time as this series, and I suspect its popularity prodded the producers to add courtroom acumen to Paladin's already crowded curriculum vitae of skills, talents, and honed experience.

Paladin offers his suite to a newlywed couple who failed to make a reservation and discovered there's no room at the inn. When asked where he'll stay the night, Paladin claims he'll be playing in an all-night poker game. Yeah, right. By this thirty-fourth episode of the series, we all know of Paladin's penchant for feminine pulchritude and of his enviable ability to woo wanton women. When Paladin breezed jauntily into the suite for breakfast, he didn't strike me as a man who spent the night hunched over a table in a smoke-filled room. (Okay, okay, he did do just that with Leadhead a show ago in "The Silver Queen.")

Parker Fennelly plays Rupe Bosworth, a twice widower with a pet owl and a peculiar pastime of shooting cuckoo clocks with a rifle loaded with homemade shells. He also tosses in the trash his dirty dishes because he hates washing them. Why wash when you can buy a new set in town for a buck? He also fills his acres of land with sweet peas because he loves seeing and smelling them in bloom. Rupe has plenty of money but is arguably shortchanged in common sense. But is he crazy? Certifiably nuts in need of locking up in an asylum? That is the question before the court.

"Three Sons" proves the adage that the villains make the more interesting characters. Paul Jasmin as good brother Hank Bosworth is at best bargain-brand vanilla. It's the two Goofuses to his Gallant that steal the show. Up n' coming stars Warren Oates and Kevin Hagen play the bad brothers John and Ed. They conspire with a corrupt attorney to have their doddering dad dumped in a padded cell so they can lay premature claim to their inheritance.

Another adage proven herein is the one about apples not falling far from the tree. John and Ed take after their father and are less evil and more just dimwitted bumblers. They reminded me of the backwoods brothers Larry, Darryl and the other brother Darryl on NEWHART. A quick judge of character and threats, Paladin appeared unruffled and unafraid when visiting their shotgun shack, even though John had a rifle pointed at him. He knew Gomer and Goober posed no real threat but were merely being played as pawns by their mercenary "shyster" (Paladin's apt phrasing).

Paladin takes an immediate liking to Rupe, played as a simple and naive rustic rube, as if Parker Fennelly were still in character as Pa Kettle (he pinch hit for the late Percy Kilbride the preceding year). I didn't warm up to Rupe and was puzzled by Paladin's being taken in by his maddeningly self-indulgent even spoiled childlikeness. Paladin doesn't usually suffer fools gladly, and Rupe was a fool, the kind from whom money is soon parted.

The courtroom scene was brisk, satisfying, and as unsurprising as the one last episode. And yeah, like last time, Paladin pulls all the right heartstrings of the aging judge, surfing that argumentum ad misericordiam fallacy wave all the way to victory. S. John Launer as Roy Daggett, Esq does his level best Hamilton Burger impression, vainly objecting and going all apoplectic as the ball in his slam-dunk case deflates.

Now what did Paladin expect when he went charging out the side door into an empty alley? A not unexpected ending ensues, closed out with Paladin's mic-drop line to the sheriff: "His lawyer will tell you what happened. I'll come around later and tell you the truth."

In many ways "Three Sons" is a mirror to "The Silver Queen," featuring wealthy old men doing whatever the hell they want to do, social conventions be damned. An old and oft-cited commonplace claims that the Eisenhower era was an age of gray-flannel-suit conformity, but these two episodes effectively argue for individuality and champion those who swim against the tide.

Joanna gets hit on by tweedy lit prof David Cameron and Dick wants to beat him up. Meanwhile, Stephanie wants to burn her hair and move to a convent because the handsome prof ignored her flirtations.

I just can't help believing this was actress Mary Frann's vanity episode. Like she went to Barry Kemp and demanded he write her a spotlight episode where she's simply irresistible to a virile hunk of man. After all, didn't Bob Newhart get his very own vanity episode, being the elusive object of desire for sultry Stella Stevens back in this season's opener "It Happened One Afternoon" (a two-parter, no less)? This was fair play for Frann, and they even brought back actor John Reilly as a guest star (maybe Kemp's way of winking at the audience that this was a Title IX recycling of and a bookend to the earlier show?).

As Joan Rivers used to say, can we talk? Can we keep it real? Bob was a funny guy but c'mon, nobody lusted after the homunculus. And the same for the matronly Mary Frann, with her lantern-jaw and frizzy hair hanging in her eyes. Didn't it elicit groans of incredulity coupled with forehead-smacking disbelief when Cameron blurts out to Joanna, "I have the hots for you!"?

Oh, and her shock--shock!--that Cameron had more in mind than waxing intellectual about Keats. And her feigned outrage and indignation. Joanna staked out the moral high ground and steadfastly held it, but c'mon, surely we can't be expected to disbelieve that Joanna was even for a moment flattered that a dashing and sophisticated man of the mind found her attractive? More attractive than Stephanie and the countless coeds who crossed his path in those halls of ivy?

Maybe even less believable was an outraged Dick's running off to defend Joanna's besmirched honor. Haven't we been led to believe he's a mild-mannered schnook who types out the occasional book? And the childish tantrum that ensued was frankly just embarrassing. What happened to consistency of character? Cameron, the villain of the piece, turned out to be the adult in the room. And who didn't guess from a thousand previous sitcoms that the glass in the door would shatter and that a smug Dick would poke in his head for a fleeting final gloat? Ugh. I would expect such juvenile slapstick in WELCOME BACK, KOTTER or HAPPY DAYS, but not NEWHART.

What elevated the show was, surprisingly, Stephanie, the most vapid character in the cast and yes, that's counting Kirk (who admittedly is number two and trying harder). And she's vengeful, too. Notice how quick she is to tell Dick where Cameron can be found on campus, even offering to drive, using Dick as her catspaw to exact revenge for Cameron's snub.

But in one giant leap for the character, Stephanie delivered a soul-searching soliloquy that lent depth to her character. She knows she's shallow and vain and has nothing to offer but her physical beauty. She has no personality to fall back on and is in fact "flying without a net" through life. In an epiphany provoked by Cameron's rebuff, Stephanie feels an impetus to change, to care about others, to become a better all-around person. The moment passes, of course, thanks in great part to Kirk's galvanizing her misbelief that great hair, great skin, and an "ace chassis" are all she needs.

Kirk figures into one of the subplots, conning George into going to Dartmouth College to buy basketball tickets. Instant karma knocks him off his feet, however, with a bad cold, and adding insult to injury, Kirk's clown galpal Cindy goes to the game with George! The other subplot concerns Dick ordering himself a deluxe and decked-out snowmobile, a one-sided phone call that is not only wholly devoid of laughs but exposes Dick as a self-centered, superficial, and vainglorious status-seeker. His character continues to war against my warming up to and liking.

Who I do like is Cindy! This is only her second appearance and already she is bright shining like the sun, lighting up with her exuberance and charm this bleak cast. Yes, I know where it is leading, and I am already sad that she and Kirk will soon be exiting the soundstage. Kirk proved himself effective in small doses and with Cindy as a tempering influence they could have added a lot to the series in a recurring capacity.

Hmm, I wonder if Steven Kampmann was told Rebecca York was being brought aboard to allow him a graceful exit from the series. Interestingly, at this same time a similar plot was unfolding over at THREE'S COMPANY with Mary Cadorette as Vicky introduced as Jack's love interest to pave the way to the spinoff/sequel series THREE'S A CROWD. Producers failed to inform the cast that everyone but John Ritter would be pink slipped at season's end. Hollywood can be heartless. NEWHART itself already unceremoniously banished Leslie to outer darkness.

Dick Martin of LAUGH-IN fame directed this one and there were plenty of laughs and those thoughtful insights into Stephanie that made it all seem worthwhile. John Reilly is always a welcome face and he added immeasurably to the fun. Now let's please just hope that both Bob Newhart and Mary Frann have had their egos sufficiently stroked so we can be spared further vexing ventures into vanity!

This time the mission finds the boys instead of their getting assigned one from Uncle Sam, so James Karen as Major Wymore gets the week off to pitch Pathmark's weekly specials in tri-state area commercials. I like his parody of a hardnosed military man, but yeah, his character is expendable. Karen will appear in the next episode then disappear (with the series following soon thereafter).

Terry Wilson, a think tank genius, enjoyed a ski trip with Walt and Matthew and his young son Ryan. But our brain trust left his briefcase containing top-secret plans for NATO unguarded in the twin-engine plane while he and the boys stepped into the cafe for burgers and brews. And of course, off it goes into the wild blue yonder! Heisted by small plane thieves, as it turns out, not sinister spies from behind the Iron Curtain. To retrieve those plans vital to the survival of the Free World, Walt and Matthew spring into action, going undercover as a stunt plane pilot and a wing walker.

Matthew: So who do you think is gonna be our wing walker?

Walt: Well, by a simple process of elimination... not me.

Matthew: Walt, I hate flying....

Walt: This is walking.

A nice touch is having the absent-minded egghead's young son play a pivotal role. Ryan was outside playing Peter Parker snappin' pix with his Kodachrome when the bad guys 'jacked Dad's plane. The Lucky Lindy Air Show patch on their caps pointed our heroes towards adventure and romance. Well, more puppy love between Matthew and cute air show official Nancy Holmes, played by attractive newcomer Gracie Harrison.

Grr, why do good girls always go for bad boys, like that louse Lou Daggit? I mean, you know he's no good when he has the same name as that annoying-as-hell robot dog on BATTLESTAR GALACTICA! Daggit disses Matthew on their first meeting and so who can blame Matthew for misusing his powers a couple times to bring this bully down a peg? I cheered him on each time.

Daggit works for an even bigger bully named Jordan Latimer, an illegal arms designer and trader who is stealing small-engine planes as part of a gunrunning deal. Latimer is played by Scott Marlowe, who has played a legion of malicious characters, most memorably Army, leader of "The Young Assassins," HAWAII FIVE-O's seventh-season opener back in '74. What a chilling episode that was. I brought that association to this story and it elevated his evil quotient, especially after seeing Latimer's lethal "Hailstorm" deathtrap sprung.

Helming this episode was Barry Crane, whose long associations with iconic action series MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE and MANNIX were abundantly evident onscreen, from the sliding shelf secret entrance to Latimer's lair to the extended airplane chase and dogfight. Walt and Matthew fly in a vintage biplane like Robert Redford's in THE GREAT WALDO PEPPER, which sparked this episode's clever title homage. Protracted plane pursuits can prove a bore, but Crane never allows a malaise to settle, quick-cutting between shots of the planes jockeying in the sky to short scenes of Walt and Matthew strategizing coupled with the bellicose bravado of the bad guys. Some of these impressive stunt scenes were what I would expect in a big-budget movie. Very well done.

Actually, the entire episode was very well done. There wasn't a bad performer or scene. Christopher Goutman brought menace to his role as Daggit. I had never seen him before and was sorry to learn he was already bringing in for a landing his brief acting career. Floyd Levine as airshow owner and emcee Sheldon Pinsky brightened his scenes with Borscht Belt bombast, trying in vain to pitch the boys on bringing their wing-walking act to his air circus. But it was Gracie Harrison who stole the show for me, first flirting then rebuffing with suspicion our hero. She had her reasons, as it turned out. Like Goutman, Harrison's acting career never really took flight. She looked like an actress who should have appeared on KNIGHT RIDER and THE A-TEAM, but she never graced either with her appealing presence.

The votes are few and mighty low this late in the series' short span. It's disappointing that the format tweak (jettisoning that albatross Amy and the confines of the Crestwood High setting) came too late to be appreciated by the audience and most importantly too late to move the Nielsen needle. The show was getting better but alas, the bell was tolling and the pink slips passing. Heck, by this time I bet Lou Gossett had already signed on to star in JAWS 3-D (please, no "from the frying pan into the fire" jokes!).

This was an especially fun episode, striking that perfect balance between suspenseful drama and lighthearted farce. When I saw Elsa Lanchester and Ruth McDevitt driving into Safeway in their antique Rolls Royce, I knew this was going to be a fun one, probably along the lines of the Hume Cronyn HAWAII FIVE-O classic "Over Fifty? Steal." The spunky oldsters were on stage, but this story unfolded differently than expected, though I was confident that ultimately no senior citizens would be harmed.

One handicap of being born late and enjoying this episode for the first time a half-century after its original broadcast is seeing Abe Vigoda and immediately thinking of the 12th Precinct's hangdog-faced and bathroom-bound detective Fish. Conversely, the original audience would have seen Vigoda and recognized him as Sal Tessio from the previous year's blockbuster film THE GODFATHER, bringing all that associated heft and malice to his role as Vallin. I tried valiantly to keep a straight face, but just had to chuckle seeing him play a literal cigar-chomping villain. And who was his mouthpiece but Jack Knight, who later in 1973 would be cast as goofball bus driver Bummy Pfitzer on Dom Deluise's funny but short-lived sitcom LOTSA LUCK. For a story that relied on levity, my associating the bad guys with good guy roles didn't unduly detract.

I mean, who could see the Penhaven sisters and not think of the Bride of Frankenstein and Miss Emily from KOLCHAK THE NIGHTSTALKER? Those fond associations only added to the charm.

But I have to give the show stealer award to Dana Elcar as used car hustler Skip Seldon. He and Mike Connors enjoyed such an affable and appealing rapport it's a shame this turned out to be Elcar's swan song on the series, but he sure went out with style. "Sip of beer?" Huh, what kind of offer was that? Just fun little throwaway moment that added immeasurably to the fun. I thought Elcar's red-face was gonna pop when Mannix broke through his apartment door and leaned on him, upping his price to $75 grand. Dana looked sincerely shook up. Such a good actor.

Hey, if the Penhavens were so above the fray as to have their put-upon maid Gertrude handle all the phone calls, why were they out rubbing elbows with the hoi polloi pushing a squeaky-wheeled shopping cart through the crowded aisles of Safeway? "Be a dear, Penny, and fetch us toilet tissue, pillowy two-ply, of course!" Not that we saw that, but I imagined it and thought, no, they would definitely dispatch Gertrude or some other lowborn peasant to secure their tea and delectable victuals.

That reminds me of a favorite character moment when Peggy brings in the tea and these Gilded Age girls take the Nestea plunge into the 1970s. Instead of cream poured from a polished silver vessel, Peggy proffers Coffeemate powdered nondairy creamer and paper sugar packets. How gauche! Lanchester's look of contempt coupled with befuddlement as she warily holds the sugar packet was priceless. But hey, what kind of tea drinkers let their tea steep a mere thirty seconds?

Those masks the bad guys wore predated THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE by a year and sure were creepy. That was an instance where a later association retroactively upped the scare-factor for us viewers late to the Mannix party.

I suspected the Penhavens were intended as a parody of the Baldwin sisters featured on that upstart new series THE WALTONS. The reference to "our father always said" brought those moonshining old maids to mind. No matter what, Lanchester and McDevitt were delightful and made this slightly offbeat episode a refreshing change of pace. And now... back to Mannix getting konked on the head and going unpaid!