It was, er, quite a killing. That is the correct term, isn’t it?

The Avengers

4.4: Dial a Deadly Number

Dial a Deadly Number features a number of memorable scenes and abundant witty dialogue, as well as a return by the then-in-everything Peter Bowles, but despite strong direction from series stalwart Don Leaver, it’s difficult to care very much about who’s doing what to whom in Roger Marshall’s teleplay.

The title suggests something Hitchockian, but the reality is more mundane, revolving around the then very contemporary, nay futuristic, use of bleepers, and their corruptibility as a means of murdering company CEOs. That there needs to be a means of conveying the signal to the victim (in whom a heart attack is triggered) leads to a Steed sporting a Chekov’s Pocket Watch, not hitherto known for carrying one; it was bequeathed by an uncle and dented in the battle of the Somme (“German Bullet?” asks Emma. “Canadian mule” replies Steed). Its presence needs to be established in order for it to become a vessel for the signal implanted in a similar item by Fitch (John Carson, Ambril in Snakedance, and also previously in the series in A Chorus of Frogs and Second Sight).

Fitch is perhaps the most memorable villain here, particularly in his desire to do for Emma (“I shall kill you with scientific tenderness, Mrs Peel”). Dissolute.com clearly got excited by this scene, as its plot synopsis describes how he “unzips part of her catsuit and touches her milky breast”. Steady! He’s also part of the second-best scene in the episode, in which Steed arrives, ostensibly unable to open his watch and calling on Fitch’s skills to do so (“Having trouble with my watch… The button’s stuck”) as the latter flees across the room in panic at his prospectively imminent demise.

Harvey: There are two occasions in life when one shouldn’t speculate. When one can afford it, and when one can’t.

Steed: Thanks for the advice.

Harvey: Not mine, Mark Twain.

The best sequence involves wine, however, albeit this aspect isn’t as well-integrated into the plot as in The Secrets Broker (and it wasn’t well integrated there at all, but at least it was a consistent thread). Steed is inveigling himself into the world of stock market investments (the chairmen who died all saw share prices plunge in the aftermath, with a banker in common, although it is his lackey John Harvey (Bowles), rather than Clifford Evans’ Henry Boardman, who is the ringleader), and their elitist methods finds him called upon to partake in the delicate art of wine tasting.

Shot by Leaver in the manner of a western gunfight, Steed and Boardman stand at opposite ends of the cellar giving their take on the plonk in question. Boardman identifies his Latour ’59 immediately (“A hit, a palpable hit”), while Steed takes his time honing his options, before picking a “Chateau Laffite-Rothschild…1909, from the northern end of the vineyard” (Steed may not pass his IQ tests, but he knows his drink).

There’s more cellar action at the climax as Steed emerges from behind a barrel and announces “I just couldn’t stay away. It’s that Chateau Rothschild”. This extends into the alcohol-fuelled coda, with Emma guessing the wine in a manner we could all see coming (“Nose or palette?”: “I read the label”).

Ruth Boardman: I have an appointment with my hairdresser.

Steed: Are you sure?
Ruth Boardman: Certain.

Bowles is on good form as John Harvey, but as with Second Sight, he’s making more of the material than he has on paper. Jan Holden (previously of The Undertakers) is strong as Boardman’s promiscuous missus (“A true gentleman doesn’t know of a lady’s promiscuity” chides Emma when Steed confesses his suspicions).

Steed: What’s the Club Special when it’s at home?

Waiter: Oh, that’s one layer of delicious prawns, one of egg mayonnaise and lightly toasted rye bread. I can recommend it, sir.

Steed: Splendid, at least one of us will enjoy it.

Steed’s ever playing up the sly dog (“Oh, Mr Steed” replies Suzanne – Tina Packer, Anne Travers in The Web of Fear – when he emphasises studying round figures). He’s subject to a decent assassination attempt by bikers in an underground carpark and shows wanton disregard for Mrs Peel’s cover when he greets her at the bank (she professes to be from Barbados and he remarks upon the absence of a tan). And then there's his wonderful menu put-down (above). Most of the episode plays well in individual increments, then, but it falls down somewhat in conveying a compelling plot.

Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.

Comments

Poor Easy Breezy.

Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood (2019)
(SPOILERS) My initial reaction to Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood was mild disbelief that Tarantino managed to hoodwink studios into coming begging to make it, so wilfully perverse is it in disregarding any standard expectations of narrative or plotting. Then I remembered that studios, or studios that aren’t Disney, are desperate for product, and more especially, product that might guarantee them a hit. Quentin’s latest appears to be that, but whether it’s a sufficient one to justify the expense of his absurd vanity project remains to be seen.

She writes Twilight fan fiction.

Vampire Academy (2014)
My willingness to give writer Daniel Waters some slack on the grounds of early glories sometimes pays off (Sex and Death 101) and sometimes, as with this messy and indistinct Young Adult adaptation, it doesn’t. If Vampire Academy plods along as a less than innovative smart-mouthed Buffy rip-off that might be because, if you added vampires to Heathers, you would probably get something not so far from the world of Joss Whedon. Unfortunately inspiration is a low ebb throughout, not helped any by tepid direction from Daniel’s sometimes-reliable brother Mark and a couple of hopelessly plankish leads who do their best to dampen down any wit that occasionally attempts to surface.

I can only presume there’s a never-ending pile of Young Adult fiction poised for big screen failure, all of it comprising multi-novel storylines just begging for a moment in the Sun. Every time an adaptation crashes and burns (and the odds are that they will) another one rises, hydra-like, hoping…

My name is Dr. King Schultz, this is my valet, Django, and these are our horses, Fritz, and Tony.

Django Unchained (2012)
(MINOR SPOILERS) Since the painful misstep of Grindhouse/Death Proof, Quentin Tarantino has regained the higher ground like never before. Pulp Fiction, his previous commercial and critical peak, has been at very least equalled by the back-to-back hits of Inglourious Basterds and Django Unchained. Having been underwhelmed by his post Pulp Fiction efforts (albeit, I admired his technical advances as a director in Kill Bill), I was pleasantly surprised by Inglourious Basterds. It was no work of genius (so not Pulp Fiction) by any means, but there was a gleeful irreverence in its treatment of history and even to the nominal heroic status of its titular protagonists. Tonally, it was a good fit for the director’s “cool” aesthetic. As a purveyor of postmodern pastiche, where the surface level is the subtext, in some ways he was operating at his zenith. Django Unchained is a retreat from that position, the director caught in the tug between his all-important aesthetic pr…

You're waterboarding me.

The Upside (2017)
(SPOILERS) The list of US remakes of foreign-language films really ought to be considered a hiding to nothing, given the ratio of flops to unqualified successes. There’s always that chance, though, of a proven property (elsewhere) hitting the jackpot, and every exec hopes, in the case of French originals, for another The Birdcage, Three Men and a Baby, True Lies or Down and Out in Beverly Hills. Even a Nine Months, Sommersby or Unfaithful will do. Rather than EdTV. Or Sorcerer. Or Eye of the Beholder. Or Brick Mansions. Or Chloe. Or Intersection (Richard Gere is clearly a Francophile). Or Just Visiting. Or The Man with One Red Shoe. Or Mixed Nuts. Or Original Sin. Or Oscar. Or Point of No Return. Or Quick Change. Or Return to Paradise. Or Under Suspicion. Or Wicker Park. Or Father’s Day.

What about the meaningless line of indifference?

The Lion King (2019)
(SPOILERS) And so the Disney “live-action” remake train thunders on regardless (I wonder how long the live-action claim would last if there was a slim hope of a Best Animated Feature Oscar nod?) I know I keep repeating myself, but the early ‘90s Disney animation renaissance didn’t mean very much to me; I found their pictures during that period fine, but none of them blew me away as they did critics and audiences generally. As such, I have scant nostalgia to bring to bear on the prospect of a remake, which I’m sure can work both ways. Aladdin proved to be a lot of fun. Beauty and the Beast entirely tepid. The Lion King, well, it isn’t a badfilm, but it’s wearying its slavish respectfulness towards the original and so diligent in doing it justice, you’d think it was some kind of religious artefact. As a result, it is, ironically, for the most part, dramatically dead in the water.

You know what I think? I think he just wants to see one cook up close.

The Green Mile (1999)
(SPOILERS) There’s something very satisfying about the unhurried confidence of the storytelling in Frank Darabont’s two prison-set Stephen King adaptations (I’m less beholden to supermarket sweep The Mist); it’s sure, measured and precise, certain that the journey you’re being take on justifies the (indulgent) time spent, without the need for flashy visuals or ornate twists (the twists there are feel entirely germane – with a notable exception – as if they could only be that way). But. The Green Mile has rightly come under scrutiny for its reliance on – or to be more precise, building its foundation on – the “Magical Negro” trope, served with a mild sprinkling of idiot savant (so in respect of the latter, a Best Supporting Actor nomination was virtually guaranteed). One might argue that Stephen King’s magical realist narrative flourishes well-worn narrative ploys and characterisations at every stage – such that John Coffey’s initials are announcement enough of his …

Would you like Smiley Sauce with that?

American Beauty (1999)
(SPOILERS) As is often the case with the Best Picture Oscar, a backlash against a deemed undeserved reward has grown steadily in the years since American Beauty’s win. The film is now often identified as symptomatic of a strain of cinematic indulgence focussing on the affluent middle classes’ first world problems. Worse, it showcases a problematic protagonist with a Lolita-fixation towards his daughter’s best friend (imagine its chances of getting made, let alone getting near the podium in the #MeToo era). Some have even suggested it “mercifully” represents a world that no longer exists (as a pre-9/11 movie), as if such hyperbole has any bearing other than as gormless clickbait; you’d have to believe its world of carefully manicured caricatures existed in the first place to swallow such a notion. American Beauty must own up to some of these charges, but they don’t prevent it from retaining a flawed allure. It’s a satirical take on Americana that, if it pulls its p…

Kindly behove me no ill behoves!

The Bonfire of the Vanities (1990)
(SPOILERS) It’s often the case that industry-shaking flops aren’t nearly the travesties they appeared to be before the dust had settled, and so it is with The Bonfire of the Vanities. The adaptation of Tom Wolfe’s ultra-cynical bestseller is still the largely toothless, apologetically broad-brush comedy – I’d hesitate to call it a satire in its reconfigured form – it was when first savaged by critics nearly thirty years ago, but taken for what it is, that is, removed from the long shadow of Wolfe’s novel, it’s actually fairly serviceable star-stuffed affair that doesn’t seem so woefully different to any number of rather blunt-edged comedies of the era.

Is CBS Corporate telling CBS News "Do not air this story"?

The Insider (1999)
(SPOILERS) The Insider was the 1999 Best Picture Oscar nominee that didn’t. Do any business, that is. Which is, more often than not, a major mark against it getting the big prize. It can happen (2009, and there was a string of them from 2014-2016), but aside from brief, self-congratulatory “we care about art first” vibes, it generally does nothing for the ceremony’s profile, or the confidence of the industry that is its bread and butter. The Insider lacked the easy accessibility of the other nominees – supernatural affairs, wafer-thin melodramas or middle-class suburbanite satires. It didn’t even brandish a truly headlines-shattering nail-biter in its conspiracy-related true story, as earlier contenders All the President’s Men and JFK could boast. But none of those black marks prevented The Insider from being the cream of the year’s crop.

I don’t think you will see President Pierce again.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018)
(SPOILERS) The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and other tall tales of the American frontier is the title of "the book" from which the Coen brothers' latest derives, and so announces itself as fiction up front as heavily as Fargo purported to be based on a true story. In the world of the portmanteau western – has there even been one before? – theme and content aren't really all that distinct from the more familiar horror collection, and as such, these six tales rely on sudden twists or reveals, most of them revolving around death. And inevitably with the anthology, some tall tales are stronger than other tall tales, the former dutifully taking up the slack.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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