Robert Blake got perhaps his finest screen role in this episode of Richard Boone Show, and he hits it out of the park. I don't remember the last time I awarded a 10 to a movie or TV episode, but gave a perfect score to this powerhouse hour.
Fred Finklehoffe, the writer most famous for his play "Brother Rat" in the 1930s and co-writing the classic "Meet Me in St. Louis", wrote consistently fresh and hip dialogue here, fitting Blake's screen (and later personal) persona to a T. He's playing a washed-up young boxer, being released after 3 years in the looney bin due to alcohol abuse after his throwing a fight dashed his career and hopes.
His patter sounds cynical, but it's actually a cry for help underneath the non sequiturs and allusions. He sets out to find himself via a train trip to San Francisco, but his past demons resurface in nightmares and the urge, after 3 years of sobriety, to down a bottle of bourbon. Climax is fabulous, as his encounter on the train with a blind girl (June Harding, letter-perfect as almost a mystical oracle) brings pathos, drama and a glimmer of hope and romance at fadeout.
All the Boone theatrical troupe except for Laura Devon and Guy Stockwell are present in supporting parts, led by Bethel Leslie as his former girlfriend and conscience. A special treat for me is a pivotal role as the train's porter for Charles Lampkin, a Black character actor who I have greatly admired after first seeing him (in the '60s) in one of my all-time favorite sleepers, Arch Oboler's 1951 movie "Five", one of the first movies to deal with the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust. His wisdom in dealing with Blake, and even against his better judgment fetching him a bottle of Kentucky bourbon, is memorable. TV director Robert Gist really shines in their scene together when Blake interrupts his own navel gazing, by suddenly asking Lampkin: "What does it feel like to be Black?". The director pauses the scene for several beats as the noise of the train gets very loud, before Lampkin can deliver an extremely tough answer.
Fred Finklehoffe, the writer most famous for his play "Brother Rat" in the 1930s and co-writing the classic "Meet Me in St. Louis", wrote consistently fresh and hip dialogue here, fitting Blake's screen (and later personal) persona to a T. He's playing a washed-up young boxer, being released after 3 years in the looney bin due to alcohol abuse after his throwing a fight dashed his career and hopes.
His patter sounds cynical, but it's actually a cry for help underneath the non sequiturs and allusions. He sets out to find himself via a train trip to San Francisco, but his past demons resurface in nightmares and the urge, after 3 years of sobriety, to down a bottle of bourbon. Climax is fabulous, as his encounter on the train with a blind girl (June Harding, letter-perfect as almost a mystical oracle) brings pathos, drama and a glimmer of hope and romance at fadeout.
All the Boone theatrical troupe except for Laura Devon and Guy Stockwell are present in supporting parts, led by Bethel Leslie as his former girlfriend and conscience. A special treat for me is a pivotal role as the train's porter for Charles Lampkin, a Black character actor who I have greatly admired after first seeing him (in the '60s) in one of my all-time favorite sleepers, Arch Oboler's 1951 movie "Five", one of the first movies to deal with the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust. His wisdom in dealing with Blake, and even against his better judgment fetching him a bottle of Kentucky bourbon, is memorable. TV director Robert Gist really shines in their scene together when Blake interrupts his own navel gazing, by suddenly asking Lampkin: "What does it feel like to be Black?". The director pauses the scene for several beats as the noise of the train gets very loud, before Lampkin can deliver an extremely tough answer.