JUNESPLOITATION: Def by Temptation (1990)

Posted on by

DAY 4. Blaxploitation!

Forget the logo that starts this. Sure, Troma distributed this, but it’s alien to their usual dreck, and it has an actual Screen Actors Guild cast, a gorgeous, smoky, neo-noir aesthetic, a contemporary R&B soundtrack and a mostly Black cast and crew.

Directed, written, produced and starring James Bond III, Def by Temptation is the story of Joel (Bond) and his best friend K (Kadeem Hardison), who will face the temptations — right there in the title! — of the flesh. Joel is a wholesome, clean-cut minister-in-training from North Carolina who is having a crisis of faith. Seeking clarity, he heads to the big, bad streets of New York City to visit his childhood best friend, K, who has become an actor.

K’s favorite place to chill is a local bar where a mysterious, stunningly beautiful woman known only as the Temptress (Cynthia Bond) hangs out. The problem? She’s a literal, soul-sucking succubus. She picks up womanizers, unfaithful husbands and anyone succumbing to the sins of the flesh, takes them home and violently obliterates them. When Joel arrives in town, his pure, virginal, holy aura becomes the ultimate prize for her. What follows is a wild, supernatural clash featuring possessed fortune tellers, holy water cocktails, killer television sets and Bill Nunn as a cop who specializes in supernatural cases. Oh, and Samuel L. Jackson shows up in flashbacks as Joel’s minister father, plus R&B royalty Melba Moore shows up as the doomed Madam Sonya, along with cameos from jazz saxophonist Najee and singer Freddie Jackson.

Def by Temptation operates on its own wavelength. It’s a horror movie, but it’s deeply rooted in the traditions of Black religious melodrama. It treats the power of faith and the threat of damnation with absolute seriousness, even when the special effects get wonderfully absurd. So you get stuff like K being violently sucked into his own television set, followed by an explosion of blood and guts from the screen; demon bartenders driving limousines and a climactic bedroom showdown involving a crucifix and some delightfully gooey practical effects.

Cynthia Bond is absolutely hypnotic as the Temptress. She balances an elegant, icy allure with moments of pure, feral malice. The chemistry between James Bond III and Kadeem Hardison feels incredibly genuine, giving the movie an emotional anchor before the supernatural craziness takes over. And the house it was shot in? It was owned by producer Hanna Moss and her husband, Laurence Fishburne.

Made for just $5 million over four weeks, Def by Temptation is a time capsule of a very specific era of independent filmmaking. It’s got style, a killer soundtrack, a great cast before they hit the stratosphere, and enough weird horror imagery to keep me happy. Why did I take so long to watch it?

You can watch this on Tubi.

WEIRD WEDNESDAY: The Erotic Adventures of Pinocchio (1971)

Posted on by

If you’re looking for a fairy tale that trades in moral lessons for, well, other kinds of lessons, The Erotic Adventures of Pinocchio is exactly the kind of sleazy, weird and profoundly goofy artifact you seek. Directed by Corey Allen — who, in a bizarre twist of fate, went on to direct episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation and Murder, She Wrote as well as the Rock Hudson and Mia Farrow movie Avalanche and who appeared in Rebel Without a Cause — this is a softcore sex comedy that makes you wonder what exactly was in the water in 1971. Maybe we should ask writer Chris Warfield, who also played an adult as Billy Thornberg.

Our story begins with Gepetta (Monica Gayle, my beloved Patch from Switchblade Sisters, as well as the titular Nashville Girl), a lonely hippie woodcarver who just wants a companion. Thanks to a visit from a fairy godmother played by the legendary sexploitation icon Dyanne Thorne (who would go on to be the Ilsa of Nazi exploitation fame), her life-sized wooden puppet (Alex Roman, who died after scuba diving into a kelp bed) becomes a real man.

The twist? It’s not his nose that grows when he tells a lie. It’s his other equipment that grows whenever he engages in loveless sex. Naturally, the film turns into a surreal picaresque journey where our wooden protagonist wanders into a life of male prostitution and live sex shows, serving as a biological facsimile of a man who is essentially a puppet for everyone else’s desires.

The cinematography was handled by none other than drive-in hero Ray Dennis Steckler (under his pseudonym, Sven Christian), and his wife, Carolyn Brandt, can even be spotted in the audience of one of the film’s performances. It’s a true family affair if your family happened to be the bedrock of the 70s grindhouse circuit.

This is very softcore, meaning there is very little actual nudity compared to what modern viewers might expect. Instead, you get a lot of strange faces, loud orgasm sounds that resemble a roller coaster malfunction and a narrative that manages to be both deeply cynical and aggressively stupid at the same time.

You also get appearances by Karen Smith (Candi from H.O.T.S.), Debbie Osborne (The Toy Box), Neola Graef (Cries of Ecstasy, Blows of Death), Sandy Dempsey (A Clock Work Blue), Uschi Digard (my dreams, really the whole movie is worth watching for her to show up; she was also in Beneath the Valley of the Ultra-Vixens, Fantasm and Ilsa Harem Keeper of the Oil Sheiks), Casey Larrain (Nympho Cycler), Barbara Mills (Sinthia: The Devil’s Doll), Ruthann Lott (Zero In and Scream) and Lynn Harris (The Erotic Adventures of Zorro).

WEIRD WEDNESDAY: Piranha, Piranha (1972)

Posted on by

Piranha, Piranha isn’t the Joe Dante creature-feature you’re likely thinking of, but rather a sweaty, low-budget Venezuelan adventure. Wildlife photographers Art (Tom Simcox) and his sister Terry (Ahna Capri, Enter the Dragon) head into the Amazon, presumably to capture some stunning shots of nature. They hire Jim Pendrake (Peter Brown), an American guide who presumably knows his way around the bush. However, the travel itinerary goes to hell once they cross paths with Caribe (William Smith), a local hunter who has decided that humans are just as fun to track and kill as the local wildlife.

It’s essentially The Most Dangerous Game set against the backdrop of the rainforest, where the characters have to worry about both the guy with the rifle and the titular flesh-eating fish waiting in the murk.

The film is a curiosity, directed by William Gibson (no, not that techomancer; this is the director’s only movie) and written by Richard Finder (also his only work on IMDb). While these names aren’t exactly household staples in the pantheon of cinema greats, they delivered a flick that serves as a perfect time capsule of 70s grindhouse adventure. The production is a scrappy international affair, filmed on location in Venezuela, Nicaragua and Colombia, giving it an authentic, rough-around-the-edges grit that you just can’t replicate on a soundstage.

You’ve got William Smith, a legendary tough guy of B-movie cinema, chewing the scenery as the villain. He makes every movie better. Pairing him with Peter Brown is a treat for fans of the 1960s show Laredo, where the two played Texas Rangers.

The setup is classic grindhouse comfort food: an expedition gone wrong, deep in the South American jungle. You’ve got the requisite crew of researchers, some high-stakes tension, and, of course, the ever-present threat of being reduced to a skeleton in mere seconds by a swarm of hyper-aggressive, aquatic pests. What makes Piranha, Piranha truly special in that specific, battered-print-from-a-drive-in kind of way is the commitment to the danger of the jungle.

You can watch this on YouTube.

WEIRD WEDNESDAY: Pracherman (1971)

Posted on by

Shot entirely on location in Monroe, North Carolina, and produced by the local Preacherman Corp, the film is a product of the early 70s Southern Dixie filmmaking boom. Of the seventeen actors on screen, eleven were local Carolinians, lending it a certain authentic regional grit. The whole operation was the brainchild of Albert T. Viola, a Brooklyn-born transplant who decided to write, produce, direct and star as the titular con man, Amos T. Huxley. He clearly had a blast, though he and co-star Ilene Kristen (the future Ryan’s Hope soap star who plays the target, Mary Lou) are essentially the only ones who saw a career beyond these woods.

Huxley is a roving grifter whose primary hobbies are shaking down congregations and seducing farm girls. After getting booted from White Oak County for sleeping with the Sheriff’s daughter, he’s left for dead, only to be scooped up by the dim-witted but well-meaning farmer Judd Crabtree. Huxley immediately sets his sights on Judd’s daughter, Mary Lou, a girl so pathologically eager to please that she’s already juggling four local boyfriends.

Huxley manages to convince the entire family that he is a divine emissary. To keep the father distracted, he sends him on errands to hunt for the angel Leroy, a celestial cover story for when Huxley wants to sneak into the barn or bedroom. The film reaches peak absurdity when Huxley realizes the family’s true business isn’t farming but moonshining. He pivots from a bogus preacher to a bootlegger, convincing the locals, including the corrupt Sheriff Zero Bull, that they should launder their illicit corn whiskey profits through a new, tax-free church operation.

The insanity didn’t stop there, either. Bill Simpson, who played the villainous Sheriff Zero Bull, actually reprised his role in a 1973 sequel, Preacherman Meets Widderwoman. That follow-up, which saw our hero tangling with a five-time widow, never received a national release, languishing instead in the regional Southern drive-in circuit.

WEIRD WEDNESDAY: Pinball Summer (1980)

Posted on by

Released at the dawn of the 1980s, Pinball Summer (also known as Pick-Up Summer or Flipper Girls in Germany) follows the Crown International beach movies and precedes Porky’s. Most of the action revolves around a place called Pete’s, an arcade hosting a pinball competition and a Miss Pinball pageant, which I really hope was a thing at some point.

As the competition heats up, our group of heroes finds itself in an escalating rivalry with a local biker gang. The conflict, which involves everything from burger joint antics to high-speed amusement park chases, revolves around winning the coveted pinball trophy. While the premise sounds like classic exploitation fare, the film is surprisingly lighthearted, focusing on the harmless hijinks, budding romances and the neon-soaked culture of the era.

Despite being filmed in Quebec, the movie successfully masqueraded as a California-based production, fooling many American audiences at the time. Film Ventures International acquired the film for the U.S. market but was initially nervous about the subject matter. They believed the pinball craze was dying and attempted to rebrand the film to distance it from the arcade theme, unaware that the film would perform quite well regardless of the title change.

Speaking of movies leading to something more, director George Mihalka and cinematographer Rodney Gibbons would make My Bloody Valentine after this, a movie much better remembered than this teen summer comedy revolving around disco, burger joints, amusement parks and hijinks between a biker gang and our heroes over the pinball trophy.

The film acts as a bizarre rehearsal for that horror classic. You’ll see several faces that migrated from the arcade to the coal mines, such as Helene Udy (Sylvia in My Bloody Valentine), Thomas Kovacs (Mike) and Carl Malotte (Dave) all appear in Pinball Summer, providing a strange continuity between this sunny teen comedy and the brutal slasher that followed.

JUNESPLOITATION: Calendar Girl, Cop, Killer? The Bambi Bembenek Story (1992)

Posted on by

DAY 3. Linda Blair!

If you grew up in the early 90s, you remember the headlines. You couldn’t turn on the news or flip through a tabloid without a show about the Playboy Bunny cop who supposedly blew away her husband’s ex-wife and then made a break for it. It was the kind of tawdry, real-life soap opera that television networks couldn’t resist, so naturally, we got Calendar Girl, Cop, Killer? The Bambi Bembenek Story.

Let’s be honest: this isn’t high art. It’s a classic, ripped-from-the-headlines TV movie that feels like it was put together while the ink on the newspaper was still wet.  It’s got that quintessential 90s made-for-TV feel, with lighting just a little too flat, pacing a bit rushed, and the moral ambiguity of the case sanded down to fit into a two-hour time slot.

Lindsay Frost plays Laurie “Bambi” Bembenek, and she does a decent job navigating the impossible tightrope of the role: is she a victim of a corrupt Milwaukee police force or is she the cold-blooded killer everyone in the courtroom thinks she is?

She’s surrounded by a roster of “Hey, it’s that guy!” character actors who make this a fun watch for any pop-culture junkie. Timothy Busfield (fresh off thirtysomething) plays the husband, Fred Schultz, while Linda Blair shows up as Jane Mader. We get the always-menacing Tobin Bell as Dan Cushman, the reliably grizzled Ed Lauter as Lieutenant Driscoll, and Peter Jurasik bringing some credibility to the ensemble. Even the smaller roles are peppered with familiar faces like the late Don S. Davis (General Hammond from Stargate SG-1) and character veteran John Karlen.

Behind the lens, the film was steered by veteran TV director Jerry London (Shogun, Rent-a-Cop). If you grew up watching network television in the 80s and 90s, you’ve seen London’s work. He was a master of the event miniseries and the ripped-from-the-headlines drama. For this script, writers Larry and Paul Barber took on the unenviable task of adapting John Greenya’s book, condensing a massive, messy, multi-year legal circus into a digestible two-hour narrative. They leaned into the tabloid beats, keeping the pacing brisk enough to avoid getting bogged down in the finer points of Wisconsin criminal law.

The film dives headfirst into the sensationalism of the case, exploring the bad marriage, the security job at Marquette, and the eventual prison break that turned her into a folk hero with the “Run, Bambi, Run” slogan.

What elevates this above your average bargain-bin drama is the sheer absurdity of the facts it’s trying to juggle. You have a woman who was a cop, a model, a convict and a fugitive, all in the span of a few years. The movie doesn’t have the budget to be a sprawling crime epic, so it leans into the character study angle, focusing on the media frenzy. It’s a fascinating, if messy, time capsule of a moment in American true crime history.

Is it a masterpiece? No. But like a lot of the best low-budget or TV-movie efforts, it has a weird, earnest energy. It’s convinced that its subject is the most important story in the world, and there’s something undeniably compelling about that.

You can watch this on YouTube.

WEIRD WEDNESDAY: Pets (1973)

Posted on by

When you see a poster featuring young women in dog collars and chains, you are braced for a sleazy, depraved descent into S&M nightmare territory. But Raphael Nussbaum’s Pets is a far more bizarre beast. It is a fragmented, episodic odyssey of a young runaway that feels less like a cohesive narrative and more like a fever dream of mid-70s exploitation cinema.

Based on a series of one-act stage plays by Richard Reich, the film follows the perpetually charming Candice Rialson (Candy Stripe Nurses, Summer School Teachers, Chatterbox) as Bonnie, a naive runaway whose presence acts as a catalyst for the ruin of everyone she encounters. The film is structured in three distinct, tonal-shifting acts:

  • Act I: Grimy Sun-Drenched LA: Bonnie falls in with a bad girl named Pat (Teri Guzman). They attempt to rob a wealthy man on the beach. This segment captures that specific, palpable 1970s Los Angeles desperation before ending in a botched escape.

  • Act II: Counterculture Muse: Bonnie becomes the muse and lover of an eccentric artist, Geraldine Mills (Joan Blackman). This act shifts into a heady, late-60s artsy vibe, which is violently punctured by a senseless, jarring home invasion. In a bizarre twist of logic, Bonnie opts to keep the intruder in her room for intimate purposes, forcing a jealous, desperate Geraldine to commit murder, sending Bonnie fleeing once again.

  • Act III: The Menagerie: Finally, the film delivers the “pets” promised by the marketing. Bonnie is ensnared by Vincent Stackman (Ed Bishop), a wealthy, whip-wielding sadist. This act feels like an entirely different film stapled onto the back of the first two—a claustrophobic dive into the actual depravity hinted at by the promotional art. Stackman treats women as literal pets, housing them in his mansion alongside actual canines.

Pets is an odd duck. It has a legit theater background, which gives the dialogue an occasionally stilted quality. It’s not quite a horror movie, not quite a drama and it’s arguably too slow for some. Not for me. I loved the sheer weirdness of it all and how firmly Rialson keeps everything held together. 

Mike Cartel, who played Rialson’s brother, assisted Nussbaum when it came down to casting the lead. He acted in twenty video-taped G-rated romantic scenes with other actreses before Rialson got the role.

Warning: A dog gets thrown to its doom.

You can watch this on Tubi.

JUNESPLOITATION: Bubble Bath (1979)

Posted on by

DAY 2. Cartoons!

Hungarian director György Kovásznai’s Bubble Bath (also known as Habfürdő) is a wildly idiosyncratic, deeply personal and totally irresistible animated musical that feels like it shouldn’t exist, yet I’m so incredibly glad it does.

Zsolt (voiced by Kornél Gelley, sung by Albert Antalffy) is a walking ball of neuroses. He looks like a stoned hippie alleycat or an Eastern European Frank Zappa stuffed into a rented tux. He’s supposed to be getting married, but instead, he panics and bursts into the apartment of Anikó (voiced by Vera Venzcel, sung by Kati Bontovits), the best friend of his fiancée. She’s a medical student who looks like a curvier, leggier, post-modern Betty Boop. What follows isn’t a high-stakes adventure, but a hyper-stylized, claustrophobic bottle episode of romantic indecision. They are two people deeply unsure of their attraction to each other, terrified of the choices they’ve made, and completely paralyzed by what the future holds.

To describe Bubble Bath’s visual style is to sound like a lunatic. Kovásznai mashes up 1920s Art Deco elegance, 1960s psychedelia and late 1970s decadence. The animation is incredibly restless and endlessly creative. Characters morph, dissolve and vibrate with nervous energy.  The backgrounds shift with the characters’ psychological states. It’s a musical where the songs don’t just advance the plot; they deconstruct the characters’ psyches in real-time.

The main inspiration for the film struck György Kovásznai when he realized most animated movies focused on bringing fantasy worlds to life with realistic animation. Reflecting on the popularity of 1970s science fiction, fantasy, disaster and adventure films, he decided that these genres actually worked better in live-action. He argued that because children are exposed to animation from a young age, they inherently know cartoons aren’t real, making any attempt at realism pointless.

Instead of making a Disney-style fantasy film, as most animation of the tiome did, he wondered if the medium was mature enough to tell real-world stories. Kovásznai wanted to create complex, authentic human characters grappling with deep personal and societal issues.

Sadly, this went down as the biggest flop in Hungarian animation history. Theatrical screenings were chaotic; angry adults and crying children routinely stormed out of theaters, prompting some cinemas to quietly swap the film for a different movie just to keep audiences in their seats.

Kovásznai was reportedly devastated by the overwhelming backlash from critics, audiences and the box office alike. However, the reception wasn’t entirely hostile. A few contemporary reviews praised the project. For instance, critic and art historian István Kristóf Nagy claimed he couldn’t find a single fault in the film, confidently predicting it would find a massive audience.

In the wake of the disaster, technical director Jenő Koltai published a lengthy essay in Pannónia Studio’s magazine analyzing the failure. He concluded that the general public was simply unready for an animated movie that tackles realistic urban themes. After its disastrous release, the film was largely forgotten until the 2000s, which sparked a massive resurgence of interest in Kovásznai’s broader body of work. Because of this profound cultural shift, the film is now officially categorized in Hungary as a nemzedéki közérzetfilm—a “generational mood film.“

Tragically, this was Kovásznai’s only feature film. A painter, philosopher and animator who refused to conform to Western or Soviet commercial standards, he passed away from leukemia in 1983 at the age of 49, leaving behind a legacy of short films and this lone, sparkling anomaly.

Thankfully, the National Film Institute in Hungary has beautifully restored the film, and the cinematic saints over at Deaf Crocodile have given it its first-ever official U.S. release. You can watch it on Tubi.

JUNESPLOITATION: Wedlock (1991)

Posted on by

Day 1. ‘90s Action!

Also known as Deadlock when released on VHS, this made-for-HBO movie stars Rutger Hauer as Frank Warren. He’s an electronics wizard and a master jewel thief who thinks he’s got it made after orchestrating a massive diamond heist. His crew consists of his gorgeous fiancée, Noelle (Joan Chen), and his long-time buddy, Sam (James Remar). But there is no honor among thieves. The moment the diamonds are safely stashed away, Sam and Noelle turn on Frank and leave him for the cops. Frank gets pinched, but he keeps his mouth shut about where the diamonds are hidden.

Cut to Camp Holliday, an experimental future prison that makes your standard maximum-security joint look like a country club. Run by the deliciously sadistic Warden Holliday (Stephen Tobolowsky, who seems to be having the time of his life), there are no iron bars or barbed wire fences here. Instead, the facility relies on the Wedlock system: every inmate is fitted with a bulky, electronic collar containing a proximity-fused explosive charge. Every collar is secretly linked to another random prisoner. If you move more than 100 yards away from your unknown partner, or if anyone tries to tamper with the hardware, BOOM—both of your heads get blown clean off your shoulders.

Naturally, Warden Holliday tries to torture the location of the diamonds out of Frank (using a sensory deprivation tank, which is for relaxation, not interrogation) but Frank isn’t talking. Things get complicated in the yard when Frank’s collar starts chirping, leading him to discover that his explosive soulmate is Tracy Riggs (Mimi Rogers), a woman claiming she was completely framed. One afternoon, when Frank fights a fellow inmate named Emerald (Basil Wallace) to the death, Tracy takes the ambulance he’s in and makes a run for it.

Sam and Noelle are working with the Warden to get the diamonds while Frank and Tracy are on the run. They hate each other’s guts, they’ve got the cops and a pair of heavily armed betrayers on their tails, and they have to stay within a football field’s distance of one another at all times or face instant decapitation.

What follows is an awesome mix of roadside tension, an underground collar-removal operation gone wrong (resulting in Noelle icing Sam) and a final showdown with the Warden himself, who has been tracking the duo via helicopter. Frank proves he’s the smarter criminal, tricking the Warden into wearing a collar and tossing the linked match into the departing chopper. Distance limit breached, chopper goes kaboom, and Frank and Tracy ride off into the sunset with a bag full of diamonds to live happily ever after.

Yes, in a 1990s action movie, there’s not much of a line between love and hate.

Wedlock is pure, unadulterated cinematic comfort food. Lewis Teague, as always, brings genuine studio-level competence to a B-movie premise, keeping the action moving fast enough that you don’t have time to question the prison logic. The chemistry between Hauer and Rogers works surprisingly well, turning the film into a twisted, high-stakes romantic comedy masquerading as a dystopian action flick. Tobolowsky steals every single scene he’s in as the Warden, playing him not as an imposing brute, but as a petty, bureaucratic psychopath. 

Hauer has weird hair, strange fashion choices and seems barely awake at some points. There are also some weird plot points, like how everyone in prison gets named after a color, can go to Magic Hour and sleep with anyone they want, and in the meantime, work on electronics. And while Frank is out for revenge, Noelle is just out to ruin the wedding of the ex who set her up.

Writer Broderick Miller recycled this same idea for another cable movie, Deadlocked: Escape from Zone 14, where Esai Morales is breaking out Nia Peeples. 

Shout out to Vern, who points out. that despite this being set in the future, there’s a movie theater showing a double of Graffiti Bridge with the Seagal movie Marked for Death. That’s amazing. Basil Wallace was also in the movie, playing Screwface and his twin brother. And oh yeah, Camp Holiday Prison is totally the command center from Power Rangers. Really — it’s the House of the Book on the American Jewish University’s Brandeis-Bardin Campus in Simi Valley, CA.

No other movie has Rutger Hauer and Mimi Rogers wearing traditional African clothing.

You can watch this on Tubi.

Murder, She Wrote S4 E3: Witness for the Defense (1987)

Posted on by

Jessica goes to Quebec to testify at the trial of a friend who is accused of killing his wife and burning his house.

Season 4, Episode 3: Witness for the Defense (October 4, 1987)

Jessica Fletcher heads to Quebec to testify in a murder trial, but because this is her show, she ends up doing a better job than the defense attorney. This episode has everything: a burning house, a “suicidal” wife and a courtroom full of people who look like they belong in a Hammer movie.

Who’s in it, outside of Angela Lansbury?

Patrick McGoohan (Attorney Oliver Quayle): If you have to ask, you’re on the wrong website. McGoohan is the creator and star of the ultimate psychedelic spy-fi cult masterpiece, The Prisoner (“I am not a number, I am a free man!”). He was also the lead in Secret Agent/Danger Man, was in Scanners and played the villainous Longshanks in Braveheart. Here, he brings that trademark intensity that makes you wonder if he’s going to defend his client or trap everyone in an underground bunker.

Juliet Mills (Annette Pirage): Part of the legendary Mills acting dynasty, she’s best known to sitcom fans as the lead in Nanny and the Professor. But for us, she’s a legend for starring in the 1974 Exorcist rip-off/cult classic Beyond the Door, and later, the batshit-insane supernatural soap Passions.

Claire Trevor (Judith Harlan): A Film Noir queen, she won an Oscar for Key Largo and starred in Stagecoach. Seeing her in an 80s TV mystery is like finding a vintage Cadillac in a suburban garage—pure class.

Christopher Allport (Jim Harlan): You likely recognize him as Andrew Campbell from Mad Men, but horror fans know him as the star of the sentient-killer-snowman flick Jack Frost. He also survived The Savage Bees.

Richard Cox (Clay McCloud): Best known for the 1980 Al Pacino leather-bar thriller Cruising. He also popped up in Star Trek: The Next Generation and the horror-adjacent The Vindicator.

Stefan Gierasch (Dr. Cornwall): A premier “That Guy” character actor. He was in Carrie as the principal and played Delue in the western masterpiece Jeremiah Johnson.

Marilyn Hassett (Patricia Harlan): She was the star of the tear-jerker The Other Side of the Mountain. In the cult world, she led the 1979 thriller The Bell Jar and the 1984 slasher-mystery The Nightingales.

Simon Jones (Barnaby Friar): He is, and always will be, Arthur Dent from the original TV and radio versions of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. He also appeared in 12 Monkeys.

Dianne Kay (Monica Blane): Best known as Nancy Bradford on Eight Is Enough. She also starred in Spielberg’s comedy-war cult classic 1941.

James Staley (Fouchet): A veteran of 80s TV who appeared in The Video Dead.

Charlie Brill (Rudy): One half of the comedy duo “McCall & Brill.” Trekkies know him as Arne Darvin in the classic episode “The Trouble with Tribbles.”

Sean G. Griffin (Klebber): A reliable TV hand seen in everything from The Abyss to Star Trek: The Next Generation.

Dori Arnold (Secretary): Appeared in the TV movie The Last Convertible.

Ivan Bonar (His Lordship): A veteran of The Waltons and Dynasty.

Smaller roles are played by Charles Cirillo, Selby Dessner, Fritz Ford and Walter Smith.

What happens?

Jessica Fletcher travels to Quebec, where everyone has British accents, to testify as a character witness for her friend and fellow novelist, Jim Harlan. Six months prior, Jessica had been staying at the Harlan estate to help Jim proofread the galleys for his upcoming book. During that visit, a tragic explosion and fire leveled the garden house, killing Jim’s wife, Patricia.

While originally ruled an accident, new evidence has come to light. The authorities now believe Jim deliberately blew up the garden house to rid himself of a wife who was openly unfaithful and only interested in his wealth. Jessica, believing in Jim’s innocence, finds herself caught in a high-stakes legal battle led by the formidable and eccentric defense attorney Oliver Quayle.

As the trial progresses, Jessica begins to realize that her own memory of that night might be the key to the truth. She revisits the events leading up to the fire, seeking the missing pieces the police and the defense have overlooked. She realizes that the dynamics within the Harlan household, specifically the influence of Jim’s overprotective mother, Judith, are far more toxic than they appear.

While Jim and Patricia appeared affectionate, Patricia’s friend Monica Blane was present, and a mysterious interaction occurred between Patricia and the gardener. Patricia stayed behind for a 6:00 PM hair appointment while Jim drove Monica to the airport for a 7:40 PM flight. Jessica was dropped off at the Harlan townhouse at 6:30 PM, and the family gathered for dinner at 8:30 PM, where they received news of the fire.

It’s soon established that the fire was arson, caused by a disconnected gas line and a stove burner left open. There’s more evidence against J.B.’s friend, who testified he heard Jim threaten to kill Patricia after she demanded a divorce. Then, the medical examiner states that Patricia died from a blow to the head before the fire started. And to add to the timeline above, the sleazy owner of the Blue Sky Motel claims that Jim checked in with Monica Blane at 6:53 PM instead of just going to the airport.

In a shocking twist, the Crown calls Jessica to the stand to establish Jim’s whereabouts. However, the most entertaining segment occurs when Jim’s own lawyer, Oliver Quayle, cross-examines his own witness to discredit her. Quayle’s attack is a meta-commentary on the show itself. Just see the quotes below, as he points out that Jessica uses an alias (J.B. Fletcher), was once committed to an institution for the criminally insane (a reference to a book research trip) and highlights that her nieces and nephews — Victoria, Tracy and Grady — have all been arrested for murder.

Despite being dismissed by Quayle, Jessica continues her sleuthing. She learns that Patricia was an ex-convict being blackmailed by Monica. And while Patricia’s body was identified by her wedding ring, a valuable family brooch — an heirloom belonging to Jim’s grandmother — was missing from the scene.

Jessica realizes that a common thief or blackmailer would have taken the five-carat diamond rings, but only someone with sentimental ties would have specifically taken the brooch. Working with the Queen’s Counsel, Jessica sets a trap. They circulate a rumor that the gardener has the brooch. Predictably, the real killer arrives at the gardener’s shack to plant the evidence and frame him.

Who did it?

The shadowy figure is revealed to be Judith, Jim’s mother. Judith’s motive was protection and class-based elitism; she viewed Patricia as a common showgirl and an embezzler who was ruining her son’s life. Judith killed Patricia during a confrontation over her past and then set the fire to cover the crime, keeping the brooch simply because it was a family treasure she couldn’t bear to see destroyed. After Patricia was knocked unconscious (or killed) by the blow to the head, Judith staged a gas leak to cause the explosion, hoping the fire would destroy all evidence of the assault.

Who made it?

This was directed by Seymour Robbie and written by story editor Robert E. Swanson.

Does Jessica dress up and act stupid? Does she get some?

No, this is another serious episode, and there’s no time for that. But the famous popcorn GIF? That’s from this episode!

Was it any good?

Yes, it actually shows that these stories take place in a universe and aren’t all one-shots.

Any trivia?

This episode is set in Canada, but no filming actually takes place there.

The crimes referred to in the dialogue between Jessica and Oliver Quayle come from:

Give me a reasonable quote:

Attorney: Mrs. Fletcher, have you ever used the alias J.B. Fletcher?

Jessica: Yes, on my books. They’re my initials.

Attorney: So you admit that you are a writer?

Jessica: Well, I’ve never felt any need to deny it. At least, uh, not so far.

Attorney: And it was in the guise of a writer that you wheedled your way into the confidence of the Harlan family?

Jessica: Wheedled?

Attorney: Do you deny that the plot for your next book was stolen from an unfinished manuscript by James Harlan?

Jessica: I certainly do.

Attorney: That is a matter we will leave for the civil courts to decide. … Mrs. J.B. Fletcher, have you any recollection of being committed to the State of Maine Institute for the Criminally Insane between the months of May and July in the year 1985?

Jessica: I was never committed anywhere. I entered the institution voluntarily.

Attorney: Under the care of Dr. Sidney Bachmann, who is a specialist in the field of criminal psychosis?

Jessica: Yes. I was researching a book.

Attorney: Indeed? What a perfect subterfuge.

Jessica: The book was called Sanitarium of Death. It was dedicated to Dr. Bachmann.

Attorney: Out of gratitude, no doubt, for the excellent care you received. Is it not a fact, Mrs. Fletcher, that a niece of yours, Victoria Griffin, was arrested for murder last year?

Jessica: Yes, but…

Attorney: Is it not a fact that another niece, Tracy McGill, was also arrested for murder?

Jessica: Yes, but I can explain.

Attorney: And that your nephew, Grady Fletcher, was arrested not once but twice, also on the charge of homicide?

Jessica: Yes, I know how that seems.

Attorney: Seems? Madam, it seems that one of New England’s most respected families is a breeding ground for homicidal maniacs!

Jessica: The charges were dropped in every single one of those cases.

Attorney: Dropped? Oh, yes, then indeed, you must also be one of the most powerful families in your country. … I have no further questions.

What’s next?

Jessica visits a convent to see a former sorority sister and winds up searching for a nun’s killer. Clu Gulager is in it!