A Hard Day's Night (1964)

I get The Beatles. I just don't GET The Beatles. Don't get me wrong. I don't dislike them. Again, I totally get it. As musicians, they're top notch; their music, hideously infectious. As a social phenomenon, they have few peers. But as cultural touchstones, they've always left me kinda cold.

However, as a die-hard and pompadour sporting, fried peanut-butter 'n' 'nanner sammich bogarting Presleyterian, I can totally empathize with this kind of psychosis and can understand what it's like to be worshiping at the table unable to explain exactly why you're there, with such ferocity, and tenacity, to those who are not.

Looking back, Richard Lester's A Hard Day's Night (1964) is kind of a watershed for me in that everything about The Beatles that came before the movie -- from Liverpool, to Hamburg, to The Ed Sullivan Show -- I find fascinating to the eye and righteous to the ear as my feet stomp and my hands clap along. But everything after that, well, you kinda lost me.

I had never seen A Hard Day's Night before -- or any Fab Four movie, for that matter. Unless you wanna count Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1978) or All of This and World War II (1976), but, yeah, no. No. No. No. No.

Thus, when it was announced there would be a weekend screening at the Grand, my burgh's beautifully restored show palace, which usually only served as a second-run showcase, I decided to get my ass to the theater and my butt into a seat in a show of support for future revival screenings of this nature, where it had originally played back in 1964. (See ads below.) 

Also, I cannot deny my own curiosity to immerse myself in an epoch-level phenomenon that had, somehow, failed to take root. Glad I did, too, as the film proved just as insidiously infectious as their music.

Lester, whose career began making TV commercials, brings an intimate, small screen approach to his subject matter, using a faux documentary angle to showcase a 24-hour cycle in the life of our quartet; the main thrust of which is keeping tabs on, reining in, and herding the ever errant group toward the rehearsals and eventual broadcast of some ersatz musical variety show.

And as our boys run amok, it easily brings to mind the absurdist anarchy of the Marx Brothers and the slapstick of Max Sennett. There's also touches of Busby Berkeley and the French New Wave both visually and in the execution of the vignettes. All of these disparate ingredients make for one fantastic and stimulating stew.

The Grand Island Independent, August 21, 1964.

Apparently, United Artists gave Lester and screenwriter, Alun Owen, a free hand to do whatever they felt like. Truth told, the studio was much more interested in a legal loophole that allowed them to do an end-run on Capitol Records and release a soundtrack album, hoping to cash-in on Beatlemania before, they assumed, it sputtered out. 

Thus, they just needed something, anything, to release into theaters. And that they wound up with a box-office and critical smash is just one of those serendipitous amalgamations of circumstances that by all rights should have ended in disaster. Only it didn't.

As actors, John, Paul, George and Ringo do just fine. John and Ringo shine the most, especially Ringo. George might've come off better if I could've understood more of what he'd said. I usually have pretty good luck with deciphering accents but I was totally befuddled on this front. (Maybe the mix was bad?)

Each was given their own personal interlude, too, except for Paul, who was too busy dealing with the added comedy relief of his "grandfather.” Props to Wilfrid Brambell, who acquits himself quite well as the devious old coot, who enhanced the plot instead of laming things up.

And while it wasn't the hardest I'd laughed at the cinema that particular weekend ( -- no, that involved a sentient tree and a talking raccoon), when he popped up through the stage floor during the final concert made me giggle pretty good. Also, kudos to Victor Spinetti as the overwrought, gloom 'n' doom director in charge of that upcoming televised performance.

Meanwhile, as the chaos pops and thunders around them, most of their own making, but not all, I found it interesting how the movie really calms down during the musical interludes. I liked how the whole band visibly relaxes in front of the camera when they take up their instruments and just melt into their songs (-- or into the background at the club scene); kind of like the eye of a storm, a refuge, against the hurricane of Beatlemania.

I've stated before about the apparent birth defect that finds me preferring the Tottenham Stomp over the Mersey Beat, and pledging allegiance to the Dave Clark Five over the Beatles. Doing the math, maybe it was because my folks were too old and my siblings too young when the Beatles invaded.

Perhaps things might've been different without this lack of exposure. I know my mother's Elvis records and my father's The Venture's LPs had a huge influence on me and the only relevant album we had was Chet Atkins Picks on The Beatles (-- which, for the record, was kinda awesome), so, there ya go.

Speaking of math, I had to double-check mine when I sussed-out that screening back in 2014 also marked A Hard Day's Night's 50th Anniversary. That's right. 50th. And now it’s sneaking up on its 60th. This, does not seem possible. Then again, Star Wars (1979) is almost ready for it's 50th. GAH! Anyhoo...

Personally, I also think A Hard Day's Night marked a turning point for the Beatles, as well. I wouldn't call it the beginning of the end but the cracks were already there and starting to show. And as things moved forward and the 1960s progressed, the line between counter-cultural messiahs and insufferable twats blurred to the point where I could no longer make a distinction.

And while A Hard Day's Night did little to remedy this notion, it certainly didn't make it any worse. On the contrary, it reinforced what I loved about the group all along: the music, and a certain moment in history when that music changed the world. Even I get that.

Originally published on August 4, 2014, at Micro-Brewed Reviews. 

A Hard Day's Night (1964) Proscenium Films :: Walter Shenson Films :: United Artists / EP: David V. Picker / P: Walter Shenson / AP: Denis O'Dell / D: Richard Lester / W: Alun Owen / C: Gilbert Taylor / E: John Jympson / M: The Beatles / S: John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, Ringo Starr, Wilfrid Brambell, Victor Spinetti

Terror Among Us (1981)

The cautionary ballad of Delbert Ramsey begins with a police lineup. Seems this Ramsey is a convicted rapist recently let out on parole. But unable to control his deviant urges, he’s been on the creep again and managed to get nabbed by the cops when two elderly ladies reported someone was peeping on them.

Unfortunately, the victims cannot make a positive ID and pick the wrong person, much to the disappointment of Sgt. Tom Stockwell (Meredith), who is well aware of Ramsey’s lengthy rap-sheet and escalating proclivities, meaning in his mind it’s only a matter of time before he rapes someone else.

Thinking he still might have enough to at least violate the felon’s parole and force him to finish serving out his original sentence, Stockwell’s request is adamantly refused by Connie Paxton (Salt), Ramsey’s parole officer, whom the film rather deliberately (and bluntly) paints with a soiled brush as a naive, college-educated, bleeding-heart liberal when it comes to rehabilitating her parolees who constantly game the legal system, which seems to favor them over their victims these days, as she buys Ramsey’s excuse for his lurking presence near the scene.

Thus, saying he has met every requirement, holds a steady job, and has a place to live, Paxton claims Ramsey is a role model and on the right path. And so, Ramsey (Shackleford) is free to go.

Now, this job Ramsey holds is for a dry-cleaner, as a driver, who drops-off and picks-up laundry for certain clients -- and one particular group of clients just happens to be a quartet of stewardesses who share a condo together.

Again, Ramsey cannot contain his impulses and nearly gets caught sniffing some panties after sneaking into their empty seaside abode while they all lounge around the pool; but he is able to make a blustering excuse for his intrusion and vacates. Later, one of the stewardesses fails to find one of her bras, meaning Ramsey didn’t get away empty-handed, giving him another piece for his ever-growing collection of creeped contraband back home.

Soon infatuated with this group of women, and one blonde in particular, like a ticking time-bomb, Ramsey decides to press his luck and tries to sneak in again, setting off a drastic and deadly chain of events, which has terrible consequences for these women -- consequences that, according to the film, could’ve been easily prevented...

A contemporary of Joseph Wambaugh as both a cop and a writer, Dallas Barnes served in the Los Angeles Police Department for ten years; three years on patrol before making detective, serving on the narcotics squad before spending a few years in homicide. And while he never garnered the same notoriety as Wambaugh, Barnes did get three novels published.

“I’d been a street cop for many years and I found it easy to write about police,” said Barnes (The Dispatch, June 5, 1977). “I had an edge on the other writers. I knew the jargon and the hardware.”

Barnes began writing in 1970 when he was transferred to community relations for the LAPD. “I was off the street, wearing smooth clothes and out of the mainstream of police work. To keep in the mainstream and vent some frustration I began writing.” The ten-months-later end-result of these efforts was his first novel, See the Woman (1973). In 1975, producer Jack Laird read his inaugural effort and invited Barnes to write for the TV-series, Kojak (1973-1978).

Liking the gig and the money, Barnes retired from the force not long after in 1976 and took up writing full time. “I'm not a cop who became a writer,” said Barnes in a later interview with Lewis Beale (Santa Maria Times, December 6, 1987), "I'm a writer who became a cop."

Said Beale, “Barnes may think of himself as a writer above everything else, but there is no doubt his extensive experience on the police force is what gives extra authenticity to [what] he writes. In fact, he is extremely vocal about the absence of reality on TV cop shows … Authenticity is a key word in the Barnes lexicon. Most of his work reeks with the nitty-gritty of authentic police work: the boredom, the camaraderie, the forensics aspects, the frustrations with superiors and the criminal justice system.”

“There’s a lot of miles in between cop shows and reality,” said Barnes. “Policemen on TV tend to be one-dimensional. They don’t suffer frustrations, you rarely see them weeping, or broke, unable to solve a case or find a parking place. And violence on TV has become so antiseptic, we’re entertained by it … My last three years on the force I worked homicide, and believe me, it’s not very entertaining.”

Six more novels would follow in this same clinical vein, along with episodic scripts for shows like Beretta (1975-1978), Eischeid (1979-1980), T.J. Hooker (1982-1986), and Hunter (1984-1991), as well as several Made for TV Movies, including Terror Among Us (1981), which was loosely based on Barnes’ third novel, Yesterday Is Dead (1976).

In the novel, detectives Lee Hollister and Virgil Fox are on the hunt for a homicidal serial rapist who likes to urinate on his victims. They’re pretty sure Edward Branch is their man after he sets his sights on his next victim, Yesterday Phillips, a 22-year old trying to make it in Hollywood. And they almost get him, several times, but through numerous legal loopholes and some devious lawyering, compounded by red tape and budget woes, Branch keeps slipping through their fingers, leaving him free to rape and kill again -- I mean, the title already gave it away, right?

As written in Barnes’ style, the novel comes off very procedural and reads like an old, just the facts, ma’am, episode of Dragnet (1951-1959, 1967-1970). (I know I read the whole thing with Jack Webb narrating in my mind’s ear.) In the telefilm, which was co-credited to Barnes’ wife, Joanne, this is tempered somewhat with a lot of melodrama, which mostly focused on the victims to be.

And in this effort to flesh them out, we get to spend some quality time with these stewardesses: the eldest, Jennifer (Purcell), is about to age out of her job and isn’t sure what the future holds after her impending forced retirement; Barbara (Reed) is about to leave the airline, too, only on her own terms as she’s about to get married; Beth (Blake), meanwhile, is [-this-] close to finishing her steamy romance novel; and the youngest, Cathy (Klous), has just started another torrid affair -- only this time it’s with a married man.

Truth told Terror Among Us also spends just as much time, if not more, getting under the skin of Delbert Ramsey, as each chronic lie and misstep he makes is then compounded with the consequences of his actions, leading to more lies and more missteps, adding even more pressure to this already volatile cocktail of pent-up rage.

His constant run-ins with the law have him on thin ice at work and with Sara Kates (Spelman), the alcoholic shrew he claims is his girlfriend, who berates him constantly and owns the home he’s currently shacked up in. Kates has Ramsey over a barrel, they both know it, and she exploits this constantly. And so it’s easy to see how and why the only time Ramsey ever feels in control of his life is when he’s sneaking into other people’s homes, rifling through their things, and taking souvenirs as reminders of that certain liberated feeling.

But his luck runs out when he creeps into the apartment of Vickie Stevens (Lankford), an ex-stewardess and former roommate of the others, and gets caught by her husband, Alex (Milligan), is beaten to a pulp, and then turned over to the cops.

But things hit a snag at the later arraignment, when the key witness, Alex, a flight engineer, is stuck out of town due to inclement weather. And while the prosecution is granted a stay, the defense, with Paxton’s help, manages to get Ramsey released without bail until the new court date, leaving Stockwell to deal with an extremely upset Vickie, whom the defense attorney smeared, claiming she had led his client on, and into the apartment, with the promise of sex.

However, despite this victory, things really start to unravel for Ramsey. He’s finally lost his job, and Kates tries to kick him out -- but she rides him too hard and pushes too far this time, as Ramsey winds up strangling her to death.

Now on the run, Ramsey misses his court date, which officially puts the kibosh on his parole. And in an effort to track him down, Stockwell and Paxton find Kates’ body and Ramsey’s stash of stolen goods -- including several items belonging to Paxton. Mortified, she redoubles her efforts to help Stockwell track Ramsey down.

Meanwhile, Ramsey has turned his attention back on those stewardesses, especially Jennifer, who was nice to him. But when he stops by, looking for her, only Cathy is home. And then, in the worst timing of ever, Vickie stops by for a visit, recognizes Ramsey, who pulls a knife, grabs the woman, and threatens to kill her unless they both keep quiet and cooperate.

From there, Terror Among Us appears to be partially influenced by the notorious case of Richard Speck, who restrained, raped and murdered a group of nursing students in Chicago back in 1966. Here, the film follows the same pattern as he ties up Cathy and Vickie and is then interrupted as the other roommates keep stumbling onto the scene.

And once Jennifer and Barbara are subdued, he starts taking them into the bedroom, one at a time, starting with Cathy, who is beaten and raped; and then Vickie, whom he blames for this (-- and project much, asshole?), and savagely beats her before they’re interrupted again, this time by Beth, who is also severely beaten.

Then, with their situation pretty near hopeless, a trussed up Jennifer valiantly throws herself out a plate glass window and onto the balcony, which alerts some neighbors and scares Ramsey off, luckily -- and I use that term loosely, before he kills somebody.

Now, Terror Among Us was executive produced by David Gerber, who had helmed five seasons and assorted spin-offs of Police Story (1973-1978), an anthology series for NBC, which focused on a rotating cast of cops and cases and curbing the criminal element off the streets of Los Angeles. And there are times when Terror Among Us kinda feels like an extended episode of that series.

Former NFL quarterback Don Meredith was a regular on Police Story, appearing in eight episodes, which adds even more gas to this notion. And yet the film spends most of its time focusing on the criminal, not the cops, which kinda short-circuits this whole notion.

As written, Terror Among Us actually manages to generate a little sympathy -- no, that’s not the right word. Make that some understanding for Delbert Ramsey, fleshing him out considerably as he is caught up in a perfect storm of events, which he instigated, that leads to the climax, making him more than the usual Psycho-of-the-Week.

Ted Shackleford really brings this home and turns in a fairly arresting performance here. The lost alcoholic Ewing brother, who left Dallas (1978-1991) and wound up on Knots Landing (1979-1993), Shackleford brings an oddly haunted quality to Ramsey; and the parts where he is cornered and manic are even better. Add it all up and he’s probably the best thing in the movie. His character is by no means an innocent, far from it -- he is a rapist, a prowler, and a pervy peeping tom, but we do get to see the mounting circumstances that got us here, which does lead to some form of understanding before his final outburst. And if all these characters were given this kind of three-dimensional crafting, we really might’ve had something here.

As is, then, Terror Among Us feels both too long and not long enough -- it might’ve been better served as a two-night movie event to give everyone a little more room to breathe. The stewardess subplots just weren’t all that interesting -- well, at least not as interesting as Ramsey’s scenes.

They tried hard to add some weight to Jennifer's arc, the den mother of the group, getting into the unfairness of her job, where it doesn’t matter how good or competent you are, once you hit a certain age threshold you are out -- compounded by the fact that she simply isn’t THAT old.

The Fremont Tribune, January 10, 1981.

“I think a statement my character makes -- ‘Somebody’s got to do something’ -- tells the story,” said Sarah Purcell, who played Jennifer. In an interview with Jerry Buck (The Fremont Tribune, January 10, 1981), Purcell hoped her character’s actions would prove proactive among other potential victims of crime. “I’m the one who does something, at the risk of my own life. I’m about a goner anyway, and I really would be a goner if I just sat there and didn’t do anything.”

Purcell was the main reason I tracked this film down, having seen the very end of it on one of the SuperStations way back in the day, and had spent decades hence trying to find that one movie where that gal from Real People (1979-1983) threw herself out a window. Purcell was a big proponent for self-defense, held a license to carry Mace, and hoped women would learn from the “dumb mistakes” the female characters made in Terror Among Us. “Women have to learn to protect themselves,” she said. “Husbands, daddies, and brothers aren’t always around. There are courses for women in self-defense and the use of deterrents. And I think if all those would-be attackers read about women taking [self-defense] classes it will give them second thoughts.”

The rest of the characters / roommates are barely perfunctory, but all of the actresses involved do help to flesh things out and liven things up considerably, as you easily buy their camaraderie and friendship. There is also a bit of skeevy moralizing to deal with as Cathy, the home-wrecker, is the only one to take the full brunt of Ramsey’s wrath.

Perhaps the film might’ve been better served spending less time with them and a little more with Stockwell and Paxton, as there is pretty good chemistry between Meredith and Jennifer Salt and their constant bickering and barbing. And while Terror Among Us is ultimately slanted toward Stockwell’s side of the argument of erring on the side of incarceration vs. rehabilitation, Paxton holds her own, playing by the rules of a broken system because it’s all they have. (She's’ got spunk, and I adore spunk.)

And I was kinda surprised during the aftermath of the attack, at the hospital, as Stockwell and Paxton try to interview the battered and traumatized victims, thinking the film had set it up so the older cop could rightfully rip the younger parole officer a new one, knowing full well she could have saved a life and prevented this heinous attack if she’d only listened to him earlier. But this Stockwell does not do, and instead, paternally reinforces that she was only doing her job, and he should have done his job better, and to learn from this experience or it will only compound this tragedy.

Gluing all of this together, veteran episodic TV-director Paul Krasny -- Mission: Impossible (1966-1973), Mannix (1967-1975), keeps things moving forward well enough, and actually excels in a few spots despite being handcuffed by the constraints of the medium given the subject matter -- even though we do actually get to watch a pervert rifle through and fondle a series of bras and panties on network TV during the Reagan administration. Wow.

 The Hanford Signal, January 10, 1981.

The final rampage is also very well staged, making things engaging and harrowing enough, resulting in a terse and overall serviceable thriller. I mean, the only place Terror Among Us trips and fails is the ending after Ramsey escapes into the night and Stockwell throws out a dragnet to hopefully catch him.

In Barnes’ novel, to add insult to injury, despite some solid forensic evidence, it appears Yesterday's killer is once again about to get away scot-free until it ends on the last page and the last paragraph with the sound of Branch’s own testicles being severed and his penis being sawed off by an unknown vigilante. (Trust me. He deserved it.)

The telefilm’s ultimate conclusion is nowhere near that dramatic (or grisly) as Stockwell gets lucky and Ramsey is quietly nabbed at the airport as he tries to skip town on a stolen credit card right before the end credits roll. It feels a bit of a cheat and totally anticlimactic, especially since they blew a golden opportunity to have Spencer Milligan, the dad from Land of the Lost (1974-1977) catching and beating the shit out of a Richard Speck surrogate not once, but twice.

Terror Among Us debuted on January 14th, 1981, as the CBS Wednesday Night Movie and is a good example that, as a genre, after reaching its apex in the 1970s, the Made for TV Movie was still a viable source of entertainment.

Since its initial broadcast it looks like it garnered a limited home video release on VHS but had been long out of print until a few years ago, when it was made available as a MOD DVD-R through Sony Home Entertainment and digitally through several streaming platforms.

As always, grateful when one of these old gonzo Movie of the Weeks finally makes the digital leap. And to whoever is listening out there, more of the same, please, and thank you.

Originally posted on February 7, 2017, at Micro-Brewed Reviews. 

Terror Among Us (1981) David Gerber Productions :: Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS) / EP: David Gerber / P: James H. Brown / D: Paul Krasny / W: Dallas Barnes, JoAnne Barnes / C: Robert B. Hauser / E: Richard Freeman / M: Allyn Ferguson / S: Don Meredith, Sarah Purcell, Jennifer Salt, Ted Shackelford, Kim Lankford, Sharon Spelman, Elta Blake, Pat Klous, Tracy Reed, Spencer Milligan