Fashion notes first. . . .
Vicki is on her third outfit for the same day. This one is the best of the bunch. It's a dark A-line. The waist is slightly dropped so she looks considerably less hippy.
Carolyn, whose hair had been pretty straight lately, is now sporting a flip that would make Marlo Thomas proud. I'm not considering this a continuity break, because it seems logical that she would have stopped in a salon while she was seeing the sights in exotic Bangor.
Elizabeth has added the jacket to her skirt and vest. I'm not a hundred percent, but I think the vest is now gone. You know, aside from her outfit in the first episode, her clothes have been few in number and not that all attractive. Considering that her wardrobe gets much more extensive in later years, I wonder if she got something written into her contract.
Still Day 4. However, the characters seem to be changing clothes a lot more. I like to think that various actors put their respective feet down and demanded fresh costume changes. The explanation is probably much more prosaic. I can dream though.
I'm not sure why but Maggie is typing on a small portable machine in the diner. Homework for those mythical night classes? Poison pen letters? Letters to Dear Abby? Menus for the diner? It's not really made clear. Bill Malloy (yay!) comes in. Coffee costs a dime. The Consumer Price Index says that's about $.58 in 2004 dollars. First of all, I'm trying to come up with something that costs a dime today and all I have are Timbits (one Timbit), bubblegum machine candy, and possibly a screw or nail at the hardware store (one screw or nail). Also, when was the last time you paid $.58 for coffee? You're lucky if you can get a cup for $1.50. But none of you probably care about Maggie's diner chores or the price of coffee in the mid-sixties. Sigh. You want to know about characterizations or plots, right?
Okay, basically it all comes down to information gathering. Bill and Maggie are both trying to do that--in their own special way. I hate to think what Bill Malloy's breath smells like at this point because he's been imbibing since mid-morning with frequent stops to the bar. Who knew Maine had such relaxed liquor laws? Bill is trying to figure out what Maggie knows about Sam's relationship with Roger as well as any connection to Burke. For once, Miss Talk About the Town is less than forthcoming, particularly when she finds out he's the one who got her father "stoned" (her word not mine).. Still, it's a mild kind of annoyance like if you realized that the supermarket was out of a brand of something you particularly wanted. Go figure. Bill outright admits he doesn't want to hurt Sam, but since Mrs. Stoddard's safety and happiness are on the line . . . Now Maggie, who should know better, coughs up information about Burke and Roger. She even volunteers a question--is this connected to Burke's trial?
Okay, I admit it; I'm mystified. Guy comes in, pumps you for dirt, states up front that he's only interested in protecting the person who runs the town (which is not you or your father) and that he'll sacrifice your father to protect her. Do you:
a) Politely but firmly inform him that you need to get back to work
b) Tell him, "I understand completely, but my family's safety and happiness are on the line and I ain't telling you jack."
c) Spill everything you know and share your theories as to how your drunken father could possibly be connected to a criminal act and to all the parties concerned.
And people wonder why I hate ingenues.
Next customer o' the day is Vicki. She has walked into town. I'm less than sympathetic because I think that's the hardest thing she's done all day. God knows, it's not like she's done any work. She relays Mrs. Stoddard's message to Bill. When Bill doesn't admittedly race out to the car to hit Collinwood, but instead informs her that he has to go elsewhere, Vicki is concerned. Honey, you did what you were told to do. Chill. Maggie wants dirt on the family, but the little governess is evasive (Roger would be so proud). The conversation gets more social and Maggie talks about her father (who Vicki does not connect with the strange guy named Sam on the cliff top). Maggie is somewhat bitter about having to work as a waitress and talks about how different her father used to be. Frankly, I'm not sure what kind of income Sam would have had sober; the samples we see of his art don't exactly scream good to me, but whatever. I'll go with that.
Bill's pounding ¢â‚¬Ëœem down at the Blue Whale, when Joe pops in. For the second time Bill does not jump when hearing that his beloved employer wants to see him. That's got to be a record. Bill is clearly depressed. Bill admits he's drinking to get drunk, although he freely admits that getting blotto isn't going to cure the problem. That seems like a healthy attitude to me. We also get some elliptical references to problems in Bill's life twenty years ago. When he finds out that Carolyn is most likely in Bangor with Burke, he's totally appalled.
Back at the coffee shop, Maggie and Vicki are sucking down sodas. Maggie invites Vicki to dinner with her and Sam. Yeah, that'll be fun. Man drinks like a starving person in the desert who finds an oasis and he's prone to sudden violent mood swings every time Collinwood is mentioned. Sounds like a party to me. Vicki decides it's time for her to head back to Collinwood and she nearly collides with Sam at the door, but again Vicki doesn't make the connection between the two Sams. Not that I blame her. It's not like his name was something like Friedrich or Heathcliff. Sam spends all of two seconds there before heading off to find Bill.
The owner of the Blue Whale could probably pay off a utility bill based on the custom Bill and those seeking Bill are providing. Steve, I know you said that I never comment on the music, but we basically hear the same three songs they always play in the Blue Whale. Joe recounts the saga of his intoxicated trip to Collinwood. Bill's answer: go get Carolyn out of that house now and marry the girl. He says that twenty years ago, he shilly-shallied about Elizabeth (heavily implied) and that while he was hesitating asking his goddess to marry him, Mr. Slick (that would be Paul) came along and stole her away.
Now, as much as I adore Bill Malloy, and I do, I honestly don't think he would have had a chance in hell with Elizabeth. I know what Art has in his bible about her, but Joan Bennett doesn't exactly play Liz as a weak woman. Hell, even in her blonde days when she got cast as insipid ingenues, her characters almost had enough steel in them to indicate that you didn't mess around with her. So she was thirtyish when Paul came along. I don't see her as the blushing virginal Joan Fontaine type. I don't care what line Paul spun her, if she was attracted to Paul--well, poor Bill is really the kind of guy she would run over with her car. She'd be very nice about it and I'm sure she wouldn't be above using her feminine wiles, but you can't tell me that Bill stood any chance with her.
The other chump in the picture is less interested in days gone by and takes off just as Sam comes in and Bob Rooney's dream of retiring early comes that much closer to fruition. Thereupon follows some unintentionally funny material with Sam trying to figure out just what it was he told Bill, and Bill trying to get confirmation of what it was that Sam told him.
Joe shows up at Collinwood and overhearing Vicki's phone conversation with Carolyn deduces that Carolyn did in fact chase Burke to Bangor for lunch. She tries to persuade him that it's not the end of the world, but I think Joe recognizes this for what it truly is. He's not so much angry as he is resigned.
Some businessmen extras are laughing it up at the end of the bar, probably in the vain hope that someone will spot them and give them real parts. Either that or someone just told a very funny joke. I find it hysterical that everyone should comment on the oddness of Bill's drinking in the middle of the afternoon when there are at least three white-collar banker types having a good ol' time. There's more obscure dialogue between Sam and Bill. Bill's comprehension of alcoholism and triggering factors is woefully ignorant, but I wouldn't say it's completely dated. After all, there are a lot of people today who believe in situational alcoholism or depression. Bill is convinced that it all stemmed from the accident, which I know, is naƒ¯ve, but there you go. Sam sees the reasons behind his drinking as moot points, and he's right. Big deal if that is the reason. It's not like he's going to suddenly stop.
Bob Rooney gets a nice close-up just before Carolyn pops in. She's partially ticked that Bill counsels her to make up with Joe, and partially concerned that Bill is drinking this heavily in the afternoon. I confess I find myself mystified by Carolyn. Fish or cut bait, sweetie. Put Joe out of his misery or stop acting like you're twelve. Bill orders another drink. He offers Carolyn one too, but she's evidently restricting her vices to chasing after men twice her age. To her surprise, Bill is less concerned with her date with Burke and more with his real problems. Bwah!
Collinwood's phone number is Collinwood 4099. Just thought I'd share. Liz is still trying to reach Ned Calder. Man, no wonder why the ratings are down. Nothing excites an audience more than watching people have one-sided conversations with the operator. This is a device best left for the writers of TAGS.
Some guy named John pops in. He's your standard banker/accountant type. I looked him up on IMDB. Patrick McVey had what looks like a long steady career in small character roles. I can't say that his performance here is all that noteworthy. He does a fair amount of Teleprompter reading and his delivery is off. I also think he adlibbed a bit. Appropriately enough, John is a banker there to set up a trust for little Davy. Banker John suspects that it has something to do with Bill. Ouch. He then refers to Bill as "a good boy." As my educated guess is that Bill Malloy was last called a good boy about forty years ago, this comes across as bizarre--hence my conjecture that Mr. McVey was doing some adlibbing.
There's more set up for the never-cast Ned Calder. Banker John opines that Bill is not the most far-seeing of business managers; he's even more dismissive of Roger. Frankly, he's pretty forthright for a guy we've never heard of before and will never hear of again. He's a big, big fan of Ned's and suggests she get him back. Elizabeth isn't optimistic. Oh, geez, this guy just doesn't bother with boundaries. He out and out tells Liz she needs a man. If I didn't dislike him before, I do now.
Aside from the fact that McVey is treating us to some odd line readings, it's a somewhat satisfactory scene in terms of actual dish. Ned proposed and Liz refused. Since Ned understands what fish and cut bait means, he took off. Banker John isn't at all sympathetic. He heavily implies that she needs to get a divorce and move on. Because you know, a woman isn't whole unless she has a man to guide and advise her. Yuck.
Another one-sided phone call. From Elizabeth's dialogue, we learn that Ned isn't taking her up on her offer unless she's changed her mind about becoming Mrs. Ned Calder. She hangs up and admits, "I need him."
David's trust. Hmmm, not even David can touch the principal. That seems like a wise enough move. However, it also means that it's going to make her really strapped for cash. Banker John warns her that her debts are demand notes (I gather whoever holds them can call for the balance anytime). I know little about finance and less about corporations so I will be kind and imagine that there would be a practical reason for her to have these things and not regular bank loans. He also discloses that some one has been asking about buying up those notes.
So Carolyn comes tripping home and we learn that Banker John's last name is Harris. Whatever. I hate this guy so much by now that he's Banker John. Elizabeth immediately hones in on the Bangor angle. Carolyn is really defensive and in the manner of most teenagers does her best to divert further discussion by tattling on Bill, who then shows up demanding to see her (Liz). We learn that he wants to talk about Roger.
Liz informs him she's trying to get Ned Calder back at the cannery. Like it's a surprise to him, lady. He heard you offering his job to the man earlier in the day. Bill claims he's cool with it (I have my doubts). He accuses her of being denial-prone. Give that man a silver dollar. She clearly knows what he really wants to talk about because she's doing that lick her lips thing. She denies knowing about Roger. In her opinion, Burke got a fair trial. Bill says he has new evidence.
Banker John is a good deal more pleasant with Carolyn in a skeevy leering old man kind of way. Either Carolyn was busy doing her nails or Collinsport High is pretty lackluster in terms of American History because she has no clue about bank runs or the FDIC. She really wants to talk about Burke. She's in the gushy/dreamy stage of love where she wants to tell everyone how special her man is: just think he puts on his trousers one leg at time! Isn't he amazing? Banker John knows Burke and waxes philosophical. He's of the opinion that us poor folk are never happy no matter how much wealth we amass. Yeah. Okay. Sure. Then Carolyn mentions meeting James Blair and Banker John drops the avuncular dirty old man bit fast.
Back in the foyer, Bill insists that he wants to get more proof. Elizabeth is harping on due process and time served, which is fine but I don't think it kept Burke warm at nights in prison. She doesn't think clearing his name is going to make any difference to Burke and she's not sacrificing Roger. She's pretty hard about it too.
Meanwhile, unaware that he's probably signing my beloved Bill's death warrant, Banker John interrupts to reveal that Burke's James Blair happens to be the same guy who wants to buy up those pesky demand notes. At this point, Bill totally freaks and takes off. He's going against her wishes and damn the consequences. At which point, I scream, "No, Bill, don't!" My neighbors must love me.
So we're back at the Blue Whale and Bill phones up Roger to set up a meeting. He threatens going to the cops. We close with a shot of Bill with his head in his hand.
I could have done without the icky Banker John dude, but I rather liked the rest of these episodes. The crux of Bill's dilemma is that he wants to save and protect Liz, but in order to do so, he risks her cutting him out of her life entirely. It's a realistic concern. Ultimately, at this point--she's going to side with Roger. Bill knows that. And when she starts circling the wagons, he's going to find himself out there with the coyotes.
