Rod Taylor in Darker Than Amber

(This post is part of the Favorite Stars in B Movies Blogathon hosted by Films From Beyond)

Between 1964 and 1985, John MacDonald wrote 21 novels in the Travis McGee series. Not a private detective, but a “salvage consultant” – if he recovered what a client lost, McGee received half its worth, allowing him to live an idyllic life on a houseboat in Florida taking his retirement, as he put it “in installments.”

They were noir fiction elevated by McGee’s asides about modern life – gun control, race relations, preserving Florida’s environment and people who use their brakes too much when driving. McGee was cynical, with a strong moral compass and built like a linebacker. He hung out with Meyer, an erudite economist given to wry observations and philosophizing.

Darker Than Amber (1970) stars Rod Taylor and is the only big-screen adaptation of a McGee book. The Australian-born Taylor began his Hollywood career in 1951 and while he’s mostly remembered today for action roles, he was versatile enough to make his mark in science fiction (The Time Machine), horror (The Birds), romantic comedy (Do Not Disturb), westerns (The Bank Robbers), drama (Hotel) and the uncategorizable (Zabriskie Point).

In Darker Than Amber, McGee and Meyer (Theodore Bikel) are fishing near a bridge when psychopathic weightlifter Terry (William Smith) drops Vangie (Suzy Kendall), tied to a barbell, into the water. McGee rescues her and as she recovers on his boat learns of her participation, working with Terry, to lure lonely guys on cruise ships into an onboard relationship, conning them out of their money then dumping them overboard.

Terry eventually catches up with Vangie and kills her, leading McGee and Meyer to embark on a plan to retrieve cash that Vangie has hidden from Terry and to trap him.

Much of what you’ll find online about Darker Than Amber is centered on the film’s climax, a violent fight between McGee and Terry in the close quarters of a cruise ship cabin, reminiscent of the Sean Connery-Robert Shaw’s train compartment bout in From Russia with Love. Apparently, the fight turned real. “We didn't use any stunt doubles at all. [Taylor] broke three of my ribs and I busted his nose ... I couldn't even breath and he was still hitting me,” said Smith.  

These guys mean it

Smith, here with bleached blonde hair, had a prolific career in television and the movies, establishing cult star status in a number of 1960s biker movies. In Darker Than Amber he’s all bulging biceps and penetrating stare, violence always bubbling just under the surface.

Taylor is solid as ever, shifting between vulnerable and invincible, and the movie chugs along at a good pace. The resolution, built on a sort of Mission: Impossible-type stunt feels, as it did in the novel, a bit contrived.

Upon meeting Taylor, John MacDonald said, “I like the guy. He has a face that looks lived in. But what matters to me is that he understands what McGee is all about – the anti-hero, tender and tough with many chinks in the armor. I trust Rod's wit, irony and understanding to make the whole greater than the parts.”  

MacDonald, however, felt the original script made McGee buffoonish and provided uncredited writing assistance. He didn’t, however, give the film a glowing endorsement. "I was so convinced it would be utterly rotten, that I was pleased to find it only semi-rotten,” he later wrote.

There are several versions of Darker Than Amber floating around. At one point the film was withdrawn and re-edited to remove its R rating. An unedited version, with the fight scene intact, seems to be currently on Tubi, although the print looks and sounds like it got the worst of the Rod Taylor-William Smith battle. Regardless, it’s worth watching.

The Complete Rod Taylor Site was a valuable resource in writing this post. 

Mayberry RFD: New Couple in Town

(This is part of the 11th Annual Favourite TV Show Episode Blogathon hosted by A Shroud of Thoughts)

It’s a big deal when a new couple moves to Mayberry. And word gets around fast.

Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson) learns about it through a friend who works at the gas company. Goober (George Lindsey) gets the word from the milkman (they’ve ordered a daily quart of milk and half-pint of cottage cheese) and the local realtor (it’s a three-month rental).

Turns out Frank and Audrey Wylie (Richard Erdman and Emmaline Henry) have moved to Mayberry from New York City for the artistic inspiration a change of scenery may bring. Frank Wylie is a writer.

Making Mayberry to Frank Wylie what Walden Pond was to Thoreau.

The local literary club is atwitter about having a writer in their midst and Aunt Bee (Frances Bavier) suggests inviting Wylie to join them as a guest speaker, adding “I think we’ll call on him tomorrow, around five o’clock – I understand that’s when writers have cocktails.” Or in Wylie’s case, milk and cottage cheese.

Meet the Wylies

With a real author coming for a talk, the membership committee is bombarded with requests. “We still must remain selective; if we just take in anybody, it’ll threaten the foundation of the club,” sniffs one member. Of course, “anybody” means Goober, whose request is rejected.

“It’s nothing personal, but I don’t think Goober’s ever read anything but a comic book in his whole life,” says Howard. “And when somebody just reads comic books, well, then he just doesn’t belong with us!”

(Hey Howard, maybe if we call them graphic novels, you’d feel different?)

Aunt Bee invites Goober anyway. Her rationale: “Any kind of reading is elevating.”

An endorsement from America’s favorite aunt aside, movies and television usually ghettoized comic book reading to the realm of little kids, reprobates and village idiots. On behalf of all of us who read comic books behind closed bedroom doors throughout our high school years, right on, Aunt Bee.

Simpleton Satch of the Bowery Boys

Unbeknownst to the townsfolk, Frank Wylie is a comic book writer/artist. Here’s what he’s currently working on:

Based on what’s on his drawing board, he sure isn’t working for Marvel or DC. Maybe the cut-rate competition, like Dell. Or worse, MF Enterprises.

But Wylie isn’t pleased with this latest effort and goes out for a drive, winding up at Goober’s gas station.

GOOBER: How’re your stories coming?

WYLIE: Nothing.

GOOBER: I ain’t no writer but I think of a lot of stories while I’m sittin’ around here waitin’ for customers, mostly like the stuff I read in comic books; ever notice how they make the monster out to be a bad guy? Something I thought of, the monster would be a hero.

WYLIE (suddenly bathed in a golden light from heaven): The monster was a hero? The creature who saved a city.

The snobbier literary club members turn up their noses when Goober shows up for Wylie’s address, who says that sometimes new surroundings provide inspiration, praising the contributions of a new collaborator he’s discovered in Mayberry — Goober, who’s receiving a 50/50 cut in the action.

Goober?

Goober and Wylie were clearly ahead of the curve. When this episode of Mayberry RFD ran in January 1969, the only monster-as-hero comic book on the newsstands was The Incredible Hulk. Within the next few years, once the Comics Code lessened its stranglehold on four-color content, the monster/hero floodgates opened for Swamp Thing, The Tomb of Dracula, Man-Thing, Blade, Morbius and Frankenstein, among many others. Television series and movie franchises awaited.

Looking a little deeper, there are other underlying themes, like the dangers of making snap judgements about people and the value of diverse perspectives, but that’s for another day. And with Goober now a member in good standing of the Mayberry literary club, will they turn next to Huckleberry Finn or Moby Dick – the Classics Illustrated versions, of course.

Across the Great Divide

Atomic Rooster

Death Walks Behind You was the best-known song by the British prog rock band Atomic Rooster. It had an epic yet ominous vibe when it was released in September 1970. It was also a case of bad timing. Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin each died that month. Jim Morrison had less than a year left.

Hendrix’ death kicked off what has been a long, slow slide of rock bands whose members, today, are all dead. It was a list once easy to keep in your head, although suddenly it's getting more difficult. After Hendrix, Noel Redding died in 2003, and Mitch Mitchell five years later. Farewell Jimi Hendrix Experience.

The next band to lose all its members were the Ramones, all of them gone by 2014, average age 55, one lymphoma, two cancers and a heroin overdose.

Last year, the final member of Iron Butterfly, Doug Ingle, died. His Spinal Tap moment came when he wrote the band’s hypnotic signature song, then sang it for the band while drunk, slurring his words so badly that what was supposed to be "in the Garden of Eden" came off as in-a-gadda-da-vida.

The last living members of the MC5, Wayne Kramer and Dennis Thompson, kicked out their final jam in 2024. The Band’s final holdout, Garth Hudson, left us earlier this year, and this past weekend, two more groups were added to the list: the New York Dolls (David Johansen) and Badfinger (Joey Molland).

New York Dolls

There's no detectable pattern here, although most of these bands played rock that was both hard and loose, and maybe there’s a lifestyle that goes along with the brand, one that inevitably exacerbates the things that can kill you. Although not in every case. Depression led two members of Badfinger to take their own lives, same as the Band’s Richard Manuel.

With the possible exception of Hendrix, I wasn't a big fan of any of these bands, so it's not like I'm getting all misty-eyed about the passing of time. Nor is it a celebrity death watch. This roll call is yet another way of reminding oneself of boomer mortality. 

And Atomic Rooster? The three-man lineup that recorded Death Walks Behind You are all gone as well.