MONSTERS FROM THE VAULT #3350 FALL 2014 51

By Frank J. Dello Stritto

BelowisanextractfromFrankDelloStritto’snewbook,I Saw What I Saw When I Saw It – Growing Up in the 1950s & 1960s with Television Reruns & Old Movies.ThebookbeginswiththeKids’TVthatFrankgrewupwith.Hemovedon towatchingoldmovies on television and attendingSaturdaymatineesathislocaltheater.Hethendiscovered“latenight” television—nottoolate,though,forFrankwasanearlybird.ButwhenTwilight Zonebeckonedin

1959,nine-year-oldFrankpushedbackhisbedtime.AyearlatercameThriller.

He’s the kind of netherworld character that’s forever popping up in nightmares. My nightmares at any rate.

–Host of Thriller describing the title character of “The Incred-ible Doktor Markesan”

1960: I do not really know who Boris Karloff is when the new television series

Thriller premieres. I have seen Karloff at Lincoln matinees of Frankenstein 1970 and Abbott and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; however, Karloff ’s classic horrors have yet to find a television time that reaches me. Over the next few years, I will see most of Karloff’s 1930s and 1940s films without thinking of the grandfatherly host of Thriller as the man beneath the makeup of Frankenstein’s Monster. The fall television season begins with The Twilight Zone re-turning to Friday nights at 10:00 p.m. on CBS; Alfred Hitchcock Presents on Tuesdays at 8:30 p.m. on NBC, and One Step Beyond on Tuesdays at 10:00 p.m. on ABC. Added to Tuesday, at 9:00 p.m. on NBC, is Thriller, the only one-hour show among them. Compared to its competition, Thriller is schizophrenic. It tries to be all three, with a bit of The Untouchables thrown in. Thriller features crime bosses, serial killers, murderous spouses, and deceitful lovers, as well as venge-ful ghosts, haunted houses and ancient curses, witches and war-locks, mad doctors and demons. At its best, Thriller provides great fright nights. No other series scares us kids like Thriller. Wednesdays at school, I am often asked, “Did you see Thriller?” Tuesday nights have five spiels by hosts: Alfred Hitch-cock’s and John Newland’s pro-logues and epilogues, and Karl-off’s prologues (and epilogues on some episodes). Karloff usually places last among them. He has less to do than his fellow hosts, sometimes little more than recit-

ing names of the week’s stars. The approach changes week-to-week, and whether light-hearted or serious, comforting or threaten-ing, I enjoy his brief introductions/outros. Karloff usually appears a few minutes into the show, after an opening teaser from the drama. I learn to listen for the week’s vari-ant of his catchphrase, “as sure my name is Boris Karloff, this is a thriller!” Karloff names the week’s principal players as their faces appear. The roll call is done with wit. For a tale about a murder-ing book dealer (“A Good Imagination”),

AS SURE AS MY NAME IS BORIS KARLOFF Karloff leafs through a large tome with actors’ pictures on each page. For “The Twisted Image” and “The Hungry Glass,” the stars appear in mirrors. For episodes involving dismemberment (“The Terror in Teakwood” and “Guillotine”), only the actors’ heads are seen. In “The Premature Burial” they appear in coffins. Thanks to Thriller, I put name to face for dozens of actors. Regardless of the series or episode, they usually play the same character: Tom Helmore (wife killer), Judith Evelyn (killed wife), Patricia Barry (loose and loving it), Constance Ford (uptight and hating it), Ed Nelson (lovable loser), George Grizzard (pathetic loser), Robert Middleton (too big to miss), Reggie Nalder (too thin to forget), Sue Ane Langdon (sweet blonde), Patricia Medina (mean brunette), and many others. After Karloff names the cast, intersecting white lines cut up the screen as the theme music blares. Thriller’s jazzy theme, heavy on the brass and bongos, counters Karloff’s calm and suggests a wilder ride than is usu-ally provided by the episode that follows. Not much for a 10-year-old in the pre-miere episode of September 13, 1960, but I remember “The Twisted Image” quite well. A delusional woman convinces herself that her boss loves her. Enter Karloff:

Her eyes were often upon him. Candid, admiring, possessive. Her extraordinary eyes. Alan Patterson was aware of them for almost a month. And they were to lead him

into guilt and terror and murder as sure as my name is Boris Karloff.

True to Thriller’s confusion, Lily’s eyes have nothing to do with the drama. Merle, an equally delusional clerk, convinces himself that he is Patterson. One delusional obsessive kills the other, and then kidnaps Patterson’s daughter before meeting a terrible end—a lot of plot for a one-hour show. Gangsters, murderous relatives, and kids with guns populate the next five

episodes: I ignore them all. So do many viewers, and produc-ers of Thriller scramble to save their show. Firings and hirings result in William Frye running a horror unit within the produc-tion. The best Thriller episodes to follow come from Frye. In September and October 1960, as Thriller struggles, I am more occupied with the presidential race—the first that I remember well—and the World Series. The 1960 series pits my Yankees against the Pittsburgh Pirates and is still the most thrilling of my life. It was as schizophrenic as Thriller: the Yankees either win by incredible scores (16-3, 10-0, 12-0) or lose close games. The team breaks virtually all series batting re-cords—and my hero, Mickey Mantle, bats .400 with three home runs—but loses in the bot-tom of the ninth of Game 7, on

a home run by Bill Mazeroski. I remember Mantle running over from center field, standing next to Yogi Berra in left field as both helplessly watch the ball go over the fence. Their heartbreak mirrors mine. Through the Yankees’ loss and Thriller’s travails comes the presidential race. Richard Nixon and John Kennedy debate four times (September 26, and October 7, 13, and 21) and more or less replay the World Series. Kennedy starts off strong, Nixon comes back from the dead, and both are at their best for the finale. Kennedy, like the Pirates, squeaks to a win. I have less clear memories of the debates than of the debates on the debates that follow. Everyone offers opinions. October 25 brings Thriller’s first foray into horror, “The Purple Room.” I have seen the plot before: an heir must spend the night in a haunted house or forfeit his inheritance. The melodrama works for me in 1960, and I overlook then what I see today as a cheap mask used for the face of the ghost. After “The Purple Room” come another seven episodes of crime and intrigue. None of them stick in my mind. The Christmas holidays bring back-to-back horrors, two of Thriller’s best episodes. One of them I find quite thought provoking; the other, for me, is the scariest hour in television history. “The Cheaters” is the first Thriller that Momma warns me is too scary. Something Momma reads gives her a heads-up on tele-vision too strong for kids. Momma never objects to my watching The Untouchables, the most violent show on television. She does not understand that warnings of new horrors only make me more anxious to see them.

Thriller, hosted by Boris Karloff, premiered September 13, 1960, on NBC. (Courtesy of Ronald V. Borst/Hollywood Movie Posters)

In “The Cheaters,” when a pair of spectacles are worn, they enable the owner to see the truth in others. Harry Townes (shown) starred. That episode and “The Hungry Glass,” which aired the following week, were two of the best episodes from the show’s two-year run. (Courtesy of Ronald V. Borst/Hollywood Movie Posters)