Saturday 14 December
When we left our bedraggled band of time travellers last week they were facing recapture at the hands of especially unpleasant caveman Kal. We open this week with them returned to the cave, along with Za, Kal's injured rival for tribal leadership. Kal takes the opportunity of Za's indisposition to accuse him of the murder of the tribe's grumpy old woman. Enter Inspector Doctor of the Yard. It's the first time we see the extent of the character's wiliness, as he uses Kal's own primitive logic to trick him into showing the tribe his own bloodstained knife, the real murder weapon.
With the tribe convinced that Kal was the killer, the Doctor encourages them to drive him out, which they do, pelting him with rocks.
Any hopes that Kal's exit might lead to a swift release for the travellers prove forlorn, as they're slung back in the cave of skulls, where Ian, definitely the Boy Scout of the party, sets to rubbing sticks together to create fire in the hope of convincing Za to let them go. Ian also tries to promote such Scoutlike values as co-operation and sharing to the cave dwellers, but Za's determined to cling on to power by being the only member of the tribe who can make fire.
And it's no surprise he's so defensive with shit-stirrers like his father-in-law Horg about. With no faith in the tribe's leader at all, he thinks the only way to get hold of the secret of fire is to sacrifice the travellers. "You should lie on the old stone until your blood runs into the Earth!" cries his daughter Hur. Family disputes have changed little over the years.
Za doesn't have long to enjoy his new-found understanding of making fire before Kal returns, bent on revenge. The climactic fight between the two cavemen is, a bit disorientingly, shot on film - as are the reaction shots of the watching travellers.
It's startlingly brutal stuff, particularly considering people would have been eating their tea when this was on. Talking of eating, there's an especially savage bit where Kal takes a bite out of Za's shoulder.
Za gets his revenge (at least, I think it's meant to be Za, it's not easy to tell as the stuntman playing the cavemen in long shot look nothing like the proper actors) by kicking Kal right in the face. It appears this is stronger than anything Barbara's used to seeing in the Coal Hill School playground.
Considering he was savaged by a wild beast just a short while ago, Za does incredibly well, decisively winning the battle by snapping Kal's neck (complete with bone-crunching sound effect) and then dropping a big rock on him (remarkably, the DVD featuring all this is rated U. I refer you to an article a few years back in Doctor Who Magazine by the estimable scribe known only as the Watcher for a take on the BBFC's Doctor Who ratings far wittier and more trenchant than anything I could come out with).
Even the Doctor, who has form in trying to bash people's heads in with rocks, clearly thinks this is a bit much.
The triumphant Za greets his public: "Kal is dead and I bring you... fire!" (I'm really not sure that those are the lyrics).
But for the Doctor and his companions there's no prospect of being released any time soon, Za having decided that brainboxes like these would be an asset to his tribe, whether or not they want to belong to it. Bored in the cave, Susan plays around with a skull and a torch, giving the ever resourceful Ian the bright idea of hiding and pretending that four flaming skulls are the ghosts of he and his fellow travellers.
And it works! The cavefolk are terrified!
Well, for long enough to enable their captives to get away, anyway Within a few seconds they set off in hot pursuit. Although Ian's made their search easier by providing them with flaming torches, he and the others manage to get into the TARDIS just in time. Shortly after they've left their Neolithic nightmare behind, the Doctor reveals there's a problem with the machine that means he won't be able to return Ian and Barbara to their own time. Instead the ship arrives in an eerie alien landscape.
As the Doctor, Ian, Barbara and Susan go to clean themselves up prior to exploring outside, the radiation meter switches, unwatched, from "Normal" to "Danger"...
After that exciting climax, I'm afraid it's a bit of a borefest next, as The Sentimental Agent (now minus the sentimental agent) tackles the less than thrilling topic of insurance.
Bill Randall (now working as Mercury International's Mediterranean rep, rather than just hanging around the place) accepts the task of helping Nikki Basaliades (Imogen Hassall) ship her late father's incomparable collection of antique furniture from Beirut to London to be sold at auction. It all needs to be very cloak-and-dagger though, as the Communist government of Nikki's homeland of Gregoria (one of those made-up Eastern European countries these shows love) are itching to confiscate the treasures.
Writers Roger East and Leslie Harris seem to be under the impression viewers will be genuinely interested in the ins and outs of the import-export business rather than wanting an hour of glamorous escapism. Nonetheless, Imogen Hassall can't help adding a bucketload of glamour, and there are enthusiastic performances from a trio of great British character actors to liven things up a bit. Cyril Shaps looks after the collection, Charles Lloyd Pack values it, and Reginald Beckwith insures it.
But then the ship bringing the antiques over sinks (explosion comes via the magic of stock footage).
It's all a con, of course. Nikki still has the collection, she just wanted to collect the insurance on it as well. There's an especially memorable moment at the climax as Faithful Manservant Chin points a bundle of dynamite at Nikki and her boyfriend (Keith Baxter) like a gun.
With its beat boom-themed episode last week, The Larkins proved that it has its finger on the pulse of what's going on. This week the show takes on another contemporary craze (though a less well-remembered one): trading stamps. For the uninitiated, these were much like Nectar points, except you had to lick them.
Both Ada Larkins and Hetty Prout have been swept up in stamp mania. Hetty's characteristically indecisive about what she wants to redeem hers for: "Well, I've filled three books and I'm at the crossroads. I don't know whether to settle for a candlewick bedspread or go on for a silver candelabra." Ada, however, has her sights set squarely on a steam iron. The expression of euphoria on Peggy Mount's face as she talks about this now utterly commonplace household item is really something to behold.
In vain are Alf's attempts to convince Ada that if she did all the shopping for the caff at the wholesaler's, she'd save enough money to buy an iron for herself: it seems an almost magical aura surrounds anything acquired with stamps rather than actual cash. "The whole world has gone trading stamp potty!" Alf splutters. It may sound like a slight exaggeration but it increasingly seems he's the last bastion of sanity remaining. Even Major Osbert's swapped his tipple to ginger wine as he can get extra stamps for it.
But Alf is destined to be swept up in the madness too, with the return of his old darts rival Vic. After securing a room at the Larkins' with ruthless flattery of Ada, he announces he's the area rep for a brand new stamp scheme, and wants the caff to offer them to its customers. Ada, lured by the glittering prizes that can be had for comparatively few stamps, enthusiastically agrees.
Soon local residents are flocking to get stamps with their egg and chips. And the previously unthinkable happens, as Osbert's desire for stamps inspires him to take a job, looking after the publicity for the stamp scheme. This mainly consists of traipsing round various local businesses trying to get them involved ("Having a deuce of a lot of trouble with the undertaker"), and dropping leaflets through letterboxes - leading to an intimate view of Hugh Paddick's lallies, for anyone who's ever wanted such a thing.
Vic reveals that due to the caff's success in shifting the stamps, his head office want to make it the Head Redemption Shop for the stamps, which means people flock there to swap their bulging stamp collections for giant stuffed poodles and the like.
Meanwhile, at "head office" (in reality his room), Vic's using a printing press to churn out more stamps. It's all a scam, of course. By the time the police turn up (the press, plus the fabulous gifts, are all stolen), Ada's so deep in her stamp addiction that she's licking and sticking whole sheets at a time. It's a truly gruesome sight. Vic escapes out the window before he can be arrested.
Trading Stampede is an oddly subdued episode - there's barely a ripple of audience laughter throughout, and writer Fred Robinson seems genuinely aggrieved at the folly of trading stamps and the illusion of something for nothing that they represent. The episode ends in tender but downbeat fashion with Alf consoling a weary Ada as they provide free meals for the people stuck with worthless stamps, a gesture of goodwill demanded by the local press.
By this stage in The Avengers' third series, Brian Clemens is establishing a niche for himself as the writer of the show's most oddball instalments. Tonight's is perhaps the most oddball yet, and thanks to the efforts of Clemens, director Peter Hammond, designer Terry Green and the brilliant cast, it's also one of the best.
Cathy Gale seems to be making a name for herself, with a full-page portrait in Hers magazine. One reader, their face unseen, doesn't seem too appreciative, carefully snipping her face into segments with a pair of scissors...
The photo accompanies an article Cathy's written on "Medieval Influences in Fashion and Adornment", which gives Steed an excuse to spoof the famed Maidenform bra ads: "Last night I dreamed I was going rusty in my..."
As a result of the article, noted Medieval historian Sir Cavalier Resagne (apparently a keen reader of Hers magazine) has invited Cathy to stay at his Devonshire mansion. Steed, keen to give his new motor a run out, insists on driving her down there. They look like they're having so much fun larking about in Steed's Bentley in the countryside that I wish I was with them (though in fairness if I was they'd probably be having less fun).
When they arrive at Sir Cavalier's country residence, there's no sign of the great man - he's been called away to an urgent historical society meeting (which is a pretty interesting concept). The house's only occupant appears to be the historian's decidedly peculiar ward (she says), Ola Moansey-Chamberlain.
Played to spooky perfection by Janine Gray, Ola rattles on alarmingly about such diverse subjects as her forebears ("Moansey was a pirate!"), her hatred of tennis and her teeth, which she forces on a bemused Steed.
Having taken a shine to Steed, Ola's disappointed when he heads off, leaving Cathy all alone with her strange hostess. At first Cathy's amused by Ola's loopy affectations, but things are about to get rather sinister, as heralded by a memorable speech from Ola which nicely captures the episode's haunted atmosphere: "I love the dark. Oh, it's owl time, full of creeps and crawls and sensuals. I love it. You can imagine all kinds of tingles and chillspines."
As an aside, it's interesting to see how Cathy, alone in her room, takes an appreciative sniff of the bunch of flowers Steed picked for her - suggesting she has feelings for him she'd never reveal to his face.
As Cathy settles down to dinner, Ola unexpectedly departs. She claims she's visiting a sick friend, but we've seen her answer the phone and say nothing. Remarkably, things get even stranger once she leaves, with the arrival of a disturbing young man (Kenneth Colley) who may or may not believe himself to be a Hollywood producer.
Unimpressed with the man's studied air of mystery, Cathy reluctantly lets him in to use the phone, his car having run out of petrol. There's a classic, early example of The Avengers' postmodern streak as he tries to freak Cathy out by summarising the hackneyed "phone wires have been cut" trope, only to find they have - his dramatic cry of "Dun dun dun!" leading directly into the similarly dramatic chords that close the act.
Fed up with the man's attempts to spook her, Cathy forceably ejects him - though he's nicked a key, and he hangs around in the garage.
As she returns to her dinner, Cathy's shocked to find someone's been eating it. Despite the cut wires, the phone rings. Cathy finds her mutilated photo among the pages of the book she's been reading. A scream echoes through the house. And somewhere, a mysterious figure awaits...
It's first-rate Old Dark House stuff, Cathy's initial irritation slowly shading into terror. By the start of the third act she's convinced there's danger afoot and has changed into her leather gear to prove it. The chillspines keep coming...
It turns out the young man was simply a loonie who was passing by out of chance. Eventually, after spooking Cathy out by projecting his voice all over the house, the architect of her nightmare reveals himself. He's Martin Gordon (Maurice Good), a people trafficker and murderer whose activities she and Steed put a stop to some time before. He's seeking a very personal revenge on Cathy, who pretended to be in love with him.
As Gordon puts his hands round Cathy's neck there's an astonishing montage of bizarre imagery.
But Cathy manages to shoot him before he finishes her off. He's only wounded, but he's soon put out of action by a sinister figure.
It's Steed, of course, having come to the rescue after reading about Gordon's release and Sir Cavalier's absence and putting two and two together (or possibly because, as Cathy suspects, he knew all along and sent her into danger as usual).
If you haven't seen Don't Look Behind You, I urge you to do so, and be well and truly gripped.
We're in that favourite location of 60s spy dramas, the East German border. Maxwell Shaw (in his second role as a creep in Espionage) encourages her to swim to the other side, then starts shooting at her. And gets her in the bum.
On the western side, reluctant US intelligence officer Lieutenant Bridger (the marvellously named George Grizzard) is summoned before Colonel Sprague (Sam Wanamaker, always a welcome sight) to receive a new assignment. I think it's possible we're meant to read the Colonel, who uses a dainty cigarette holder and informs the Lieutenant he first became aware of him during a tennis match ("You should get into shorts more often. For the good of your country") as a predatory homosexual.
Said fiancé turns out to be Ulrich Lindemann, the man we saw shooting at her earlier on. He's using her for mysterious purposes of his own though, and the similarity between he and the Colonel, each playing with pawns, is underlined by their shared taste for vodka hidden in gin bottles.
Sprague's shocked to learn that Bridger's let such a minor thing as a fiancé stand in the way of his romancing Lina. "What sort of a man are you, Lieutenant?" he chortles when Bridger suggests he should go straight for Lindemann.
Bridger meets up with Lina and Lindemann for a drink, unwittingly finding himself in the middle of the raucous 40-day festival of Fasching.
Bridger's German acquaintances encourage him to participate in the Fasching customs, which include downing a tankard of ale, or having whatever's left poured over one's head.
Another supposed custom is that women set aside their usual romantic relationship and consort with whatever men they choose. And Lindemann uses this to essentially pimp his fiancée out to the befuddled lieutenant. It's all part of an elaborate plot to get a defected scientist (Peter Howell - the Emergency Ward 10 star, not the BBC Radiophonic musician) back to the East.
Much strangeness involving eerie animal masks ensues as the Lieutenant's hoodwinked into smuggling the professor out of the country (Diane Cilento would appear with eerie animal masks again 10 years later in her best known film, The Wicker Man).
As they reach the Swiss border (the scientist's being taken to the East by plane, rather than over the wall), Colonel Sprague swoops. We end with Lindemann being convinced by his kindred spirit the Colonel to swap sides for a considerable fee. I think Lindemann's meant to be a likeable rogue, but sadly he just comes over as an insufferable git.
Sunday 15 December
The pre-titles sketch of tonight's That's My Boy sees Jimmy Clitheroe's dad agree to correct the spelling of his graffiti, only to be caught white-handed by police sergeant Campbell Singer.
The episode proper begins with Dad's suspicions aroused by Jimmy's sudden willingness to help out around the house. He suspects his son's guilty of some terrible crime: "That time he set fire to the scout hut he only offered to wash his knees." There's a reference to recent events in the news as Dad ponders, "There hasn't been another mail train robbery, has there?" He scans the paper for any stories that might give a clue to his son's activities. The thing most likely to have been Jimmy's handiwork is the theft of 50 hothouse plants from the local park, and he becomes convinced that his son is the thief.
Jimmy's in the midst of washing up (he's used an entire bottle of liquid, creating a foam monster similar to one that would threaten Doctor Who a few years later) when his dad confronts him with the news of the robbery, hoping to prick his conscience. Jimmy, however, is entirely innocent of the deed, and thinks that Dad is trying to confess to him.
As the pair eye each other suspiciously through the keyhole, Bert Bamford announces his arrival by whacking Jimmy on the bottom with a newspaper. Jimmy proceeds to enlist his aid in covering up Dad's guilt, clutching his lapels to show how seriously he takes all this legal stuff.
Dad's been brought in to the police station for a parking offence by the over-keen PC Parker (Peter Tory), but is sent about his business by the avuncular sergeant. Jimmy spots him leaving and calls in to provide him with a swiftly-concocted alibi for the night of the plant theft. Much confusion ensues.
Having decided that the plants Dad has recently brought home for his greenhouse are evidence of his guilt, Jimmy gets Bert to dispose of them.
He then tells his Dad all the details of the film he told the police he was watching at the cinema (it's a fictional but perfectly plausible romantic comedy called Meet Me on Mars, starring Jack Lemmon and James Garner as astronauts and an unnamed blonde woman as their mutual love interest). Dad, obviously, has no idea what he's on about.
Fortunately, the sergeant, having worked out the cross purposes the Clitheroes are at, descends upon the house like a benevolent deity to explain it all. Somewhat implausibly, it turns out Jimmy really was doing all that housework just to be helpful.
The only thing remaining is for Bert to explain what he's doing with all those plants...
TV comedy doesn't come any more basic than that.
Monday 16 December
Play of the Week on ITV is G W Target's The Teachers, starring Judi Dench, Jane Hylton, Brian Oulton and Peter Sallis. It's followed by Discovering Japanese Art.
Tuesday 17 December
Mr B surveys the town's seemingly endless rows of bed and breakfasts before we get to look inside one of them.
Once the kiddies are in bed, the parents head out to view the bright lights of Weston (nobody worried much about babysitting back then).
The next day the poet takes a trip to the beach, where he casts his eye over exactly the sort of things you might expect to see at the seaside.
There's a Salvation Army concert in progress, which garners an interesting range of reactions.
As the film draws to a close, Betjeman takes us away from the seafront to look at some of the more interesting architecture in town, lamenting the forthcoming demolition of a row of old houses to make way for a new supermarket.
We end with him pottering about Weston's modern village like a benign Godzilla in a straw boater, appreciating this record of how the town once was and musing, "It's a curious thing, nowadays, that most of what we like to look at nowadays has to be make-believe." Too true, Mr B. Too, too true.
Next tonight, it's that Tuesday night fixture, The Plane Makers. Like several previous episodes, it's compelling and deathly dull in equal measure.
It should come as no surprise to regular readers that The Plane Makers' boardroom battles are considerably less interesting to me than what super-secretary Kay Lingard's done with her hair (it's an up do this week - you can see it here in one of the high angle shots that proliferate in this week's episode)...
Fortunately writer David Weir seems aware that not every viewer will be fascinated by men boring on about aeroplanes for an hour, and has added in a human interest-type subplot. Involving Eric Thompson, father of Emma and the man who made The Magic Roundabout into a masterpiece of dry surrealism. He plays Philip Hammond, an employee who's been sacked on the spot by Wilder for apparently having his end away with a young lady in the back of a car hired by Wilder during a works dance - and then calling Wilder a filthy pig and a power-mad idiot when he was discovered. The next day, Hammond's horrified by what's happened, but his attempts to get his job back are in vain. At one point it seems he might be contemplating suicide.
As the board convenes for their meeting, Hammond's boss, intense, unsmiling chief researcher Dr Katz (played by Alan Tilvern, and not to be confused with the cartoon of the same name) makes a dramatic entrance. He's furious that Wilder's fired one of his staff without consulting him, and when the managing director refuses to listen to Hammond's side of the story, he insists it be put before the board (Hammond's a computer operator, and these are very hard to come by).
It turns out that the girl in the back seat with Hammond was his pregnant wife, who'd fallen ill and who Hammond was helping when he was berated by Wilder - hence the abuse. When Wilder refuses to retract Hammond's sacking Katz insists the board vote on whether to retract it. The subsequent vote goes in Wilder's favour, but due to the board's moral disapproval of his actions (or possibly just to piss off Sir Gordon), he announces that he'll apologise to Hammond and reinstate him. Much to Wilder's frustration this move's vetoed by the chair (the climactic meeting's surprisingly nailbiting stuff).
Wilder's plan for the 12 Sovereigns is just about approved, but Sir Gordon (who voted for it), hints darkly that the bank he chairs won't be willing to finance them. The meeting's dragged on hours longer than it should've, and the episode ends with Wilder phoning his son to tell him he won't be meeting him at his boarding school to take him out to tea after all. It's the human cost of big business. Or something.
Wednesday 18 December
After his appearance in The Plane Makers last night, Eric Thompson's back on TV in tonight's Festival play on the BBC. It's Ibsen's Little Eyolf, and it also stars Avril Elgar, James Maxwell and Catherine Lacey. Following this is the gripping-sounding documentary What Next in Lighting?
Thursday 19 December
This week, Larry Dart and his crew go, boldly, where no puppet has gone before (except the Fireball XL5 crew): to a world inhabited by giants.
But to begin with, as the Galasphere crew prepare to go into the freezer for six months for the journey to Earth from Pluto, we once again find ourselves wondering just how much time this series has covered already. What with all these adventures each taking place over the space of months, you'd think the characters left on Earth would be getting on a bit by now. Anyway, Colonel Raeburn and Marla seem hale and hearty as ever, desperately trying to get the Galasphere back on course using their zurgon rays as the ship strays dangerously off-course, heading deep into space and into the path of a comet.
Raeburn has his fingers crossed for the crew's safety. Marla demonstrates the Venusian equivalent, crossing one's wrists.
The comet just grazes the ship, causing the crew to wake up, as well as enough damage for them to need to land so Husky can fix it. But as they head back to Pluto, they're astonished to see (as the episode's title suggests) a new, never-before-seen planet! "If this new planet is past Pluto, it must be even further from the sun," remarks Husky, sharp as ever.
Despite being so far from the sun, the planet's covered in vegetation, as the astronauts discover when they land. And the plants are enormous - Slim manages to trip over a giant strawberry.
Shortly they meet one of this world's inhabitants: a massive beardy man who, luckily, is able to speak English -it's thanks to some other Space Patrollers who lost their way and landed on the planet some years before.
Dart escapes back to the Galasphere, but the giant, determined to have these creatures as his pets, simply heaves the ship over his shoulder and takes it back to his house.
Dart calls Raeburn to appraise him of the situation. The Colonel's a bit sceptical: "A planet of giants? What's the matter with you, Dart? Have you changed your name to Hans Andersen?"
The giant stores the ship in a big box, but our heroes manage to escape (the sight of the Galasphere flying out of the box and around the room is utterly bizarre). The giant runs after it, but as he'd known if he'd ever read Jack and the Beanstalk, he's got no chance. Shame really, he seemed like a nice fella, if a bit too hearty.
Rather than the usual handy caption letting us know where we are in the world, tonight's episode of The Saint shows us what's on in the West End.
Simon Templar's there, waiting for his ladyfriend of the week, actress Jean Yarmouth, as she auditions. While waiting, he gives us his (uncomplimentary) thoughts on confidence tricksters (this may prove important later on).
The scene changes now to the sleepy village of Netherdon, whose vicar (John Glyn-Jones) is going away for a couple of days, leaving the decaying church in the charge of his secretary Sophie Yarmouth (Jean's mother, played by the incomparably twittery Mary Merrall - it's strange to think that 50 years ago Jean was a young woman's name and Sophie an old woman's).
It's not long before Sophie's approached by an American woman (Louise King), claiming to represent a charitable foundation who want to give the church the remaining money it needs for its restoration fund. She's a con artist of course, and even daffy Mrs Yarmouth cottons on to that when she insists on seeing the money raised so far in cash before she'll contribute any more.
But the scammer's been chased from the US by a detective (Peter Dyneley) who teams up with the local constabulary's dim-witted representative (Victor Platt) to bring her to justice by talking Mrs Yarmouth into drawing out the money as requested. Just as she secretes it in her false-bottomed suitcase they swoop.
The American detective escorts his prey off the premises (with the money, which he insists is key evidence) - and then locks the door so Mrs Yarmouth and PC Charlie (as in, A Right) are trapped inside. Detective and con artist drive off together - they're a married couple, real names Richard and Joyce Eade, and having relieved Netherton of £6000 are off to spend it on the Riviera. Peter Dyneley's brilliantly cast here - a British actor regularly cast as Americans, he discards his tough guy Yank accent for a suave English one the moment he leaves his bewildered victims behind.
Salvation is coming for Mrs Yarmouth, though, in the shape of her daughter (beauiful Justine Lord) and her beau. Simon determines to track down the crooks. His first step is to flirt heavily with postmistress Miss Emma (Marie Makino) until she reveals the pair put in a phonecall to AirFrance regarding their trip.
In France, Simon gains the co-operation of the local police (represented by Arnold Diamond, Sergeant Cork's boss), Jean's charms helping considerably in winning them round. But Simon doesn't want their interference - he plans to beat the con artists at their own game.
Checking into the same hotel as the Eades, Simon attracts their attention by posing as carefree Texan billionaire Hiram S Tooms (his accent may be a bit strange - and considering every episode begins with someone telling Simon how famous he is it's surprising he can go incognito so easily - but Roger Moore's clearly having a marvellous time). Although they're meant to be having a holiday from their criminal pursuits the pair decide this is a mark too good to pass up.
Joyce poses as a ghastly rich bitch sporting an emerald ring Richard tells Hiram is worth far more than she imagines, and Richard suggests he try and buy it as a gift for his ditsy French girlfriend (Jean).
Eventually the Eades are caught by Simon and a local gendarme (John Standing), but on the agreement they'll give back the church's money as well as providing the rest needed to restore the church they're allowed to go.
The gendarme, you see, is really an English actor friend of Jean's. It's really astonishing how handsome the young John Standing is.
The Eades are left with the terrifying prospect of having to find gainful employment. They'll manage though - they've got each other. The tricksters are such a likeable pair that they deserved their own spin-off series (that's the second time I've said that about a character played by Peter Dyneley - he was a very charismatic actor).
Back in Netherton, Sophie Yarmouth's clearly got her eye on Simon as a prospective son-in-law. I wouldn't get too excited, love, your daughter'll be entirely forgotten about by next week.
The Bunco Artists is a treat - easily the most enjoyable episode of The Saint so far. Strangely, the show's at its best with both episodes like this where it really lets its hair down and those like The Saint Plays with Fire where it aims at being more than usually serious. The great mass in the middle are just a bit dull. Mind you, both the above-mentioned episodes guest star Justine Lord, which is always a great help.
Friday 20 December
The centrepiece of tonight's ITV schedule is Patrick Hamilton's play Money with Menaces, starring Ronald Lewis and Philip Madoc. The Anglia edition of the TV Times for the week, which you can read in full here, lists the programme following this as Tavern Topics, a classic example of old-style local TV: "Each week customers from well-known East Anglian pubs call into our tavern to air their views on the news and challenge the opinions of the Tavern Talkers". Amazing.
The full Radio Times listings for the week's BBC programmes can be found here.
And to play us out...
It's the Beatles with this week's new number 1 single, "I Want to Hold Your Hand," which displaces their own "She Loves You" from the top spot. You can see the full chart here.
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