Day One Hundred and Seventy-eight - Radioland Murders, "How much YOU love ME? Well, how about how much I love YOU?!"

The last movie to come out of Lucasfilms in the 90's before good old George put the entire studio into "Prequel Mode" for production of The Phantom Menace, for some reason Radioland Murders never caught on, making a paltry 1.3 Million in the theaters and only getting a 19% on Rotten Tomatoes.

19... percent!

Just thinking about it, I feel like Gene Hackman's character at the end of The Birdcage, exasperated and confused, spouting, "I don't understand!"

Set in the late 30's, the golden age of radio, Radioland Murders is a quirky murder mystery with tons of slapstick and wit wrapped around a melodramatic series of murders on opening night of WBN's (stand in for Chicago's WGN) brand new radio network.

The night is utter chaos already as debut jitters have everyone from the writers to the sponsors birthing kittens, but as the bodies stack up, the laughs just get louder as leads Brian Benben (Dream On) and Mary Stuart Masterson (Fried Green Tomatoes) try and track down the killer while dealing with their own marital issues.

Supporting them is probably one of the greatest ensembles of character actors, comedians, and old standbys that I have ever seen assembled, including: Jeffrey Tambor, Ned Beatty, Corbin Bersen, Michael McKean, Christopher Lloyd, Harvey Korman, Peter Macnichols (whom regular readers know that I just adore), and Larry Miller... as well as the last film appearances of George Burns and Rosemary Clooney.

And Stephen Tobolowsky... Steven-freaking-Tobolowsky... while I love him in pretty much everything he does, this has to be one of my favorite roles for him. Usually when I see him, he's a one-trick background pony like the role as Ned Ryerson in Groundhog Day or Sammy in Memento... great, but just a side note to the primary action. Here, he's a major character with an end twist that allows from some really riveting climax drama and action.

He's just golden.

And pretty much the same can be said for the majority of the film. I cannot understand why it has such a bad rap.

Sure, it's cheesy and melodramatic, but that's half the fun! The other half being a stylized romp through the nostalgia of the radio era. I have to say, I get much more enjoyment out of Radioland Murders than Woody Allen's Radio Days.

Sometimes the tastes of others just boggles my mind.

I love Radioland Murders and I think, if you give it a chance, you will too. It has that same sort of retro sheen and witty banter that made Clue so great (though the latter is obviously superior). But, who knows, maybe I'm wrong? Going over the critics, I find myself soundly in the minority.

Until tomorrow, Potatoes~

Day Forty-eight - Murder, She Wrote: Season 1, Episodes 1 & 2, or "Melodrama mystery for the retired set!"

I have a special place in my heart for Murder, She Wrote.

For one thing, it stars the incomparable Angela Lansbury in the lead role of part-time writer, part-time police consultant Jessica Fletcher, who, as we see in this two-parter pilot, is reluctant to be either.

For another, its a series about a writer who done good: published, bestseller, happy, active.

But, mostly, there's this one last thing. Murder, She Wrote was one of the few "adult" series that my parents allowed me to watch in the 80's. Jessica, along with Angus MacGyver, were the heroes I grew up with, fighting for truth, justice, and the sensible, intelligent way.

Now, that's not to say the series is excellent. It suffers horribly from obvious melodrama.

There's nothing really smart about it, to tell the truth, aside from Jessica's occasional one liners at the expense of someone looking down their nose at her. The two clues that were the key to the whole mystery were a single interaction between the victim and culprit, the reasoning for which was buried in post reveal dialogue, and a misspoken excuse, not actual clue-finding. The latter I can forgive, the former... not at all. 

Additionally, the supporting characters lack depth and serve only as possible suspects or victims. It would have been nice if her nephew Grady had his own ambitions, or one or two of the misdirects had cleverer explanations.

Still, as silly as it is, it's harmless.

Sure, it mentions sex in passing, but in that prim way of yesteryear, where the furthest a suitor got was first base and a fade out. It's certainly not Magnum, PI, with its skinny dipping Swedish tourists... nor is it anywhere close to Miami Vice with its bedrooms and onscreen strangulation.

One benefit to the pilot was Ned Beatty as the half-bumbling, half-competent chief of police for the small commuter community where Jessica's first murder takes place. I always love it when good stage and cinema actors take on supporting roles like this on television. It's gotten to be the norm, now, where producers mine the b and c-level casting lists for movie stars, perhaps on the decline, who want to move to television and pick up a steady paycheck. That's certainly the case with most procedurals. I'm making it sound negative, but it's actually a great thing and helped here.

Anyways, If you like your murder mysteries tame, then Murder, She Wrote is for you... in fact, I'd probably say that were its audience around today, they'd be watching NCIS.

But, I do love Jessica Fletcher. She's a smart, Agatha Christie-style investigator who always gets her killer, even at the expense of her own desires, muted though they may be. Plus, as I said before, she's an author... and I always have a soft spot for those in cinema and television (go Castle!).

Until tomorrow, Potatoes~