Monkees vs. Macheen: “The Devil and Peter Tork”

“The Devil Went Down to Hollywood, Looking for a Soul to Steal.”

“The Devil and Peter Tork” is a classic episode, a fan favorite that receives a lot of well-deserved praise. Like the previous episode, “The Monkees’ Paw,” “The Devil and Peter Tork” was inspired by a short story: “The Devil and Daniel Webster,” by Steven Vincent Benét, about a farmer who enters into a contract with “The Stranger” and is in danger of losing his soul. The mythical litigator, Daniel Webster, sets up a court case on behalf of the farmer and wins his soul back for him.

“The Devil and Peter Tork” first aired on February 5, 1968, but was shot nearly a year earlier, in April, 1967. The episode has a first season/early second season feel, due to both the Monkee’s hair and clothing styles and the more innocent (relatively speaking) tone. The reason for the delay, per IMDB trivia, came from the network reacting to the “Hell” lines that mocked NBC’s Standards & Practices division. A alternate rumor about the reason for the delay was that the network objected to the sly drug references in the song “Salesman.”

Story writing credits for this episode go to Robert Kaufman (1931-1991), with the teleplay by Robert Kaufman and Gerald Gardner & Dee Caruso. This was Kaufman’s first and only Monkees episode. He also wrote the story for Divorce, American Style, screenplay for Freebie and the Bean, and Love at First Bite as well as many other film screenplays and television episodes. Episode director was James Frawley.

The episode begins with Peter visiting a pawn shop, admiring the many instruments. It appears to be the same music shop from “The Spy Who Came in from the Cool,” only the set is lit in this episode to appear ominous and shady. Peter calls out to see if anyone is in. Mr. Zero startles Peter, touches his shirt, and smoke rolls off from his touch! It’s not the creepiest thing that ever happened on this show, but it’s pretty scary! Zero explains that the instruments belong to musicians who have fallen on bad times.

Zero invites Peter to look around. Peter immediately notices the harp and approaches it to look more closely. He tells Zero he’s always loved the harp. Zero-the-cynical says he’s sure Peter means “need or desire, no one loves things anymore.” But Peter knows how he feels; he loves the harp. Of course he doesn’t have any money. No problem, Zero simply snaps his fingers and a contract appears, “play now, pay later.” Peter signs it and carries the harp out the door (magically opened for him by Zero). Zero calls someone on a red phone and requests a reservation for one; he’s just purchased the soul of Mr. Peter Tork. Meanwhile, Peter carries the harp down the street on foot.

Back at the pad, Mike patiently explains to Peter that, though the harp is beautiful, he doesn’t know how to play it. Micky and Davy agree that Peter should take it back, and they leave him to it. Zero appears in a puff of smoke and asks Peter why he needs Mike now that he has his harp? Zero wants Peter to believe that material possessions are more important than people. Mike wisecracks that he does the sweeping up, etc. Zero disregards his sarcasm by magically popping a broom into Mike’s hand. He goes after his quarry, telling Peter to play his harp. Peter tries it out, and it seems Zero has given him supernatural knowledge of how to play it perfectly. Zero promises to make Peter famous, but Peter is not interested in fame; he’s simply entranced with the beautiful music. Zero puffs away. Monte Landis is appropriately menacing as Zero in this episode. This is my favorite of all of his seven performances on the show. Born in Glasgow, he plays Zero with a British accent. This is a fitting choice, as American movies and television shows love to cast Brits as “evil” characters.

Mike, Micky, and Davy re-enter the scene when they hear Peter playing, curious about how he learned so fast. Peter explains that Mr. Zero taught him. He asks if they could add it to the act, and Micky turns into a newspaper salesman, “Extra, extra, group earns fame and fortune by adding harp into act” Skeptical Mike points out that, “no one was ever an overnight success” as he goes to answer the ringing phone. It’s Harry’s Booking Agency, calling to tell them that with the harp, they’re going to be an overnight success. Ha! Mike is bemused.

The story of their climb to fame and fortune is told with a montage. There are shots of a train, kids screaming from “Monkees on Tour,” and newspaper headlines: “Monkees Intro Harp” “Monkees Harp a Hit!,” and “Monkees Harp Happening.” More Monkees tour footage with a transparent image of Peter playing “Pleasant Valley Sunday” on the harp superimposed.

Back at the Monkees house, Peter’s still playing. (I’ve got blisters on my fingers!) Micky, Mike and Davy look through the hundreds of offers from the mail. Zero pops in with a puff of smoke. The Monkees are not amazed. I guess when you can materialize props and costumes yourself, nothing surprises you. Zero asks Peter if he’s pleased and likes all the money he’s making. All Peter cares about is making people happy with the music. He is of course the perfect character for Zero to target, because he was always the least likely to look for a catch in any bargain.

It’s time to pay up though. Zero pulls out his contract and Mike, the type who always looks for the downside, grabs it and looks it over. (Peter Tork wise-cracks in the DVD commentary that Mike was always looking at contracts.) He quickly discovers that Peter has sold his soul to the Devil. Peter innocently says he doesn’t believe in devils. Zero says this makes Peter’s soul more interesting because innocence is “at a premium.”

This is an interesting thought. Can the Devil take your soul, if you don’t believe in him/it? Or is it like the film The Usual Suspects, “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist.” [“And like that … he’s gone.” – Editor’s Note] Does disbelief of evil give it great power? Or are you still innocent if you don’t acknowledge the existence of good and evil? As Shakespeare said, “there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” Humans give those concepts power, they aren’t inherently true and don’t come from anyone but us. These are all possibilities to think over anyway.

Micky thinks Zero’s joking, as I would. Zero proves his power by snapping his fingers, shattering the chair that Micky tried to sit on, making Davy’s shirt vanish, and giving Mike that damn broom again. They all are convinced, yep, he’s the devil. That’s their proof? The Monkees themselves have made many a prop and costume appear out of nothing. Come on, impress me Mr. Zero.

According to the contract Zero gets Peter’s soul by midnight. (Shouldn’t it be on Peter’s death?) Mike points out that it’s only 8 p.m., and Peter wants his other four hours thanks. Zero agrees, undoes his mischief, and vanishes. The other three Monkees huddle around Peter, who admits he’s scared. He starts to say, “I don’t want to go to h—” but is cut off by a flash of hell-red lightning and a romp to the song “Salesman” (Craig Vincent Smith).

Woo hoo! I love this song and this romp. Zero sits on a throne with sexy female devils at his feet. The lady devils bring Peter to Zero and jab at the Monkees with devil forks. This is all mixed in with footage of Mike singing the song in the Rainbow Room. The Monkees get their own devil costumes, and they run around and dance etc. This is one of the better romps of the later part of the season. There’s a colorful, cheesy-yet-creepy vibe to it and great editing. I don’t know how this played to people in the 1960s. I’ve seen plenty of Vincent Price movies from that time with this same look.

After the romp is the classic dialogue:
Mike: “So that’s uh, that’s what [cuckoo] is all about.”
Davy: “Yeah, [cuckoo] is pretty scary.”
Micky: “You know what’s even more scary?”
Peter: “What?”
Micky: “You can’t say [cuckoo] on television.”

I love Micky’s cocky expression as he delivers the stinger. “Salesman” is on the album Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones, Ltd. The riff always reminded me of the Beatles’ “Taxman” and that was probably by design. The lyrics describe the life of a door-to-door salesman in cynical terms. The line that might have scandalized standards and practices is, “There goes salesman and he’s sailing high again /He’s sailing so high, high, sailing so high.” Considering the drug references that got by in episodes like “The Monkees Paw” and “A Coffin Too Frequent,” I doubt this was an issue. The joke above about not being allowed to say “hell” seems the more likely reason for the network delay of the episode.

Apparently “hell” had been said around this time on Star Trek. Captain Kirk said, “Let’s get the hell out of here” in the 1967 episode, “The City on the Edge of Forever.” It’s listed here on TV firsts. I’m guessing it was still considered pretty outrageous at the time. Wow, racy!

As the Monkees discuss what to do, Zero returns. The boys try to stall for time but Zero isn’t having it. He pulls Peter to the door, telling him he’ll like it “down there.” Then comes the most sweetly selfless moment ever on The Monkees:

Every time I see that scene, it gets to me. Davy Jones does it so sincerely. Zero turns him down of course, so Micky and Davy grab Peter and have a tug-of-war with Zero. Mike on the other hand, stands back and uses his brain. He tells Zero that if the contract is valid, there’s nothing the Monkees can do. But, he wants to take that contract to court to test it. Mike is taking more of the Daniel Webster role in this, despite the way the episode is named; he asks for the trial and makes the compelling argument toward the end.

Zero claps his hand and materializes a hellish, red-curtained, fire-lit court. Presided over by Judge Roy Bean, the jury consists of “twelve condemned men from Devil’s Island.” Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be fair. [Don’t they get a voir dire? – Editor’s Question] Roy Bean, if you were wondering, was a famous judge in late 19th Century Texas. He was known for his “unusual rulings” and was portrayed after his death as a “hanging judge” although he only ever sentenced two men to hang.

Zero calls old west gunfighter Billy the Kid as his first witness. Billy agrees that Zero kept his bargain and made him the most famous gunfighter in the West. Mike loses the “choosing fingers” contest with the other Monkees and has to take the first defense. He steps up to question “Mr. Kid” but is easily intimidated and backs off.

Zero wants to wrap it up, but Micky insists they call another witness on the fourth-wall-breaking grounds that, “the television show’s not over.” Zero swaps out Billy for the renowned pirate, Blackbeard, who recites, “Yo ho ho and a bottle o’ rum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.” Davy takes that as his cue and stands up to question him. Blackbeard sways his rum bottle back and forth until Davy gets seasick.

Zero smugly calls infamous warmonger Attila the Hun. Micky steps up to the challenge, promising to be like Spencer Tracy from Inherit the Wind. (Never without a show-biz reference, that guy.) Attila doesn’t speak English so they start a conversation in faux “foreign” language. Attila backs Micky to the table with his sword until Mike stands up and shouts gibberish that makes Attila back off.

Micky: “What’d you say?”
Mike: “I don’t know!”

 

The judge is ready to pass sentence, but Mike’s not through. He calls the defense’s first witness: Zero himself. Zero materializes the contract for evidence. He claims in exchange for fame and fortune, Peter gave up his soul. Mike argues that Zero didn’t give Peter anything in exchange for his soul. Peter didn’t want fame and fortune; he just wanted to play the harp. Zero argues, “I gave him the ability to play the harp… in return for his soul.”

Poor Peter. He’s always the most sympathetic Monkee and I really feel for him here. This episode scared me a bit when I was a kid. I was raised Catholic so Hell was a real concept. I’d say this episode and “Son of a Gypsy” (thanks to the hot poker) were the two Monkees episodes that disturbed me the most. But I don’t mind; I like being scared. An episode with any kind of emotional impact is going to stick with me much longer. I was really worried for Peter. But never fear; Mike is here. He argues that Peter’s love of the harp and music gave him the power to play, not Zero. Micky and Davy listen thoughtfully and attentively while Zero laughs at his ideas.

Here’s where Zero makes his mistake. He takes the supernatural power away from Peter and materializes the harp. Mike tells Peter to go play. Peter is frightened, but Mike insists that no one can give Peter the power or take it away. Peter sits down and plays a beautiful instrumental arrangement of “I Wanna Be Free.” Of course, it’s not that simple. You can’t just do something because you love to do it. BUT, for the sake of this being a 30 minute show, let’s say for Peter, “love” equals many, many hours of practice, therefore what Mike says is meaningful and credible.

The jurors and the witnesses are touched; they’re even moved to tears. Zero is no longer laughing. This bit does parallel the original story, if we compare Peter’s playing of the harp to Daniel Webster’s way with words as described here:

“For his voice could search the heart, and that was his gift and his strength. And to one, his voice was like the forest and its secrecy, and to another like the sea and the storms of the sea; and one heard the cry of his lost nation in it, and another saw a little harmless scene he hadn’t remembered for years. But each saw something. And when Dan’l Webster finished he didn’t know whether or not he’d saved Jabez Stone. But he knew he’d done a miracle. For the glitter was gone from the eyes of judge and jury, and, for the moment, they were men again, and knew they were men.”Steven Vincent Benét, “The Devil and Daniel Webster”

Just like Webster, Peter has performed a miracle of restoring the humanity of the judge and these hard, bitter, hell-bound men. With his playing, Peter makes an argument in his own defense, and earns his name in the story title. He finishes playing and the judge declares him “not guilty!” Defeated, Zero snaps himself back to hell. The Monkees hug and celebrate.

This is a truly wonderful episode. Not so many laugh-out-loud moments as I normally expect, but a well done story, sensitively acted. I know it’s not perfect, but I like it so much I don’t feel like picking nits. This is one of the most emotionally engaging stories for me, included with “One Man Shy” and “I’ve Got a Little Song Here.” These are also the episodes that revolve around the non-actor characters, Mike and Peter. Not a coincidence I’m sure; there’s something about their less practiced acting style that makes them relatable, easy to empathize with. Or maybe they just lucked into better stories being written around them.

The last bit of the episode is the bouncy, energetic Rainbow Room performance of “No Time” (Hank Cicalo). This tune has a gospel feel and is therefore a great way to end this particular episode. Happy New Year, everyone. I hope you all have a wonderful 2018 and don’t have to make any deals with the Devil.

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

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Monkees Vs. Macheen: “Monkees on the Line”

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“Live, Live, Live! Love, Love, Love!”

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The Monkees are hanging out in their pad and not answering the ringing phone. Mike gets to it too late. He calls the boys together to point out they haven’t had any jobs and might be missing a few calls. Always a man with a plan, Mike wants to hire an answering service. He calls the service to set this up, going on about the doors that will open up for them when someone is always there to answer the phone, etc. Ironically, no one answers.

This fast-paced, physical comedy-filled episode was directed by James Frawley and aired on March 27, 1967. The plot was borrowed from a 1960 film called Bells Are Ringing (screenplay by Betty Comden, Adolph Green based on their popular stage musical), starring Judy Holliday, about an answering service operator who gets a little too involved with her customers (also with Dort Clark, who was in “Monkees on the Wheel,” “The Picture Frame,” and “Monkees à la Cart.”). Gardner/Caruso and Coslough Johnson were the writers. Johnson went solo on other episodes produced in the second season: “Art For Monkee’s Sake,” “The Monkees On The Wheel,” “The Monkees Watch Their Feet,” “The Monkee’s Paw,” and “The Monkees Mind Their Manor.” He also wrote an unproduced teleplay: “The Monkees Toy Around.” Coslough Johnson is the brother of Arte Johnson from Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In.

At the Urgent Answering Service, the Monkees meet Mrs. Drehdal, played by Helene Winston, who appeared in “Monkees à la Carte” as Big Flora. Mrs. D offers them a job and free service if they’ll answer the phones. In a brief fantasy sequence, she becomes the Statue of Liberty and her impassioned speech compels them to be a “warm heart of this cruel world” and that the city will “be in your fingers.” The boys get all choked up and agree. After all the warmth talk, she points to the sign that says “Don’t Get Involved With The Clients.”

Mike cheats at choosing fingers to win the first shift. Micky explains that Mike always wins because he has six fingers on that hand. The connection of fingers and phones reminds me of the old “Let your fingers do the walking” slogan from The Yellow Pages, which originated in 1962.

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After the others leave, Mike skips over to the switchboard in excitement. Funny to see a tall, lanky man skip. “Monkees on the Line” does a good job of utilizing Mike’s established character traits. He needs to be useful, to take care of people and advise them, etc. For their part, the other Monkees treat him as a protector and big brother. Mike’s ready for the chance to be helpful to the entire city this time.

At the switchboard area, there are a bunch of phones that connect into the wall with their own lines, instead of one big multi-line phone. Looks like there should be about 10 people working there at once, not just the one person. Mrs. Drehdal announces she’s off to Jamaica and gives Mike a quick tutorial: plug in the ringing phone, answer and take the message, and give it to the client when they call in. Duh.

Mike finds a big red button, which she explains is for when you get tired. He breaks the fourth wall to tell us that, since monkeys are notoriously curious, he’ll push the jolly, candy-like button. [“Push the button, Frank!” 10 points to anybody who gets that reference. – Editor] When he does, a bed comes out of the wall. I’ve seen this type of gag used in many comedies, where a bed falls down or out of the wall. But I still enjoy it in this episode; they put it to good use.

A phone rings and Mike performs some physical comedy trying to figure out which phone is ringing. Ellen, the caller, declares, “I had to speak to someone. I just can’t go on, I’m so terribly alone.” Ellen goes on about being alone while all the other phones start ringing. Flustered, Mike delivers this nonsensical gem to one of the callers, “No, I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number. We don’t have a telephone.” Both the phone Mike uses when he talks to Ellen, and Ellen’s phone are yellow. Helpful to the viewer for keeping track, though not for Mike who can’t see her phone. Ellen continues her suicide threats while phones keep ringing. Frantic, Mike picks up all the phones and shouts, “Don’t do it!” He’s amazingly polite the entire time.

Later, Mike’s passed out on the phone table. Peter, Micky, and Davy, dressed as surgeons, revive him with a seltzer squirt. Mike shouts about getting to the girl on the phone before it’s too late. The Monkees use her line number to find her info in the file cabinet. Mike finds it right away; hilariously, the others are still searching in the background. Mike and Micky rush off to prevent Ellen’s suicide. Peter and Davy caution that they’re not supposed to get involved with the clients. Peter’s right again, what do you know? Fourth-wall breaking gag where Mike asks off screen for someone to give him his hat and they toss it to him. Micky: “Where’d you get that?” Mike: “From the wardrobe.”

Once Davy and Peter are on their own, all the phones start ringing at once. Crazy, fast motion business of them answering all the phones and taking tons of messages. Once it’s quiet again, Davy finds something that grabs his attention: “Mr. Smith call Zelda Baby, love, love, love, urgent.” Davy decides to deliver the message by hand as it says “urgent.” He’s now involved in a mini-plot.

Davy knocks on the door of the Smith apartment. Mr. Smith answers still in shaving cream and an undershirt. His wife is played by Lea Marmer, last seen as Madame Roselle in “Monkee See, Monkee Die.” Davy reads the message and angers Mrs. Smith, who hits her husband in the head. They both chase Davy down the hall and into farce territory. They all run into another apartment. A pretty girl in a towel runs out, and Davy chases her enthusiastically. He’s followed out by the Smiths; Mr. Smith is suddenly fully dressed in his cop uniform.

At Ellen’s apartment, Micky and Mike walk right in and find all her suicide props. They search the apartment for her in ridiculous places where she couldn’t fit: under a throw pillow, in a small cupboard, under an end table, and behind a framed painting. Micky and Mike look in her day planner, which tells them she’s supposed to be at the theater today.

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At the theater, Ellen rehearses the same lines she said to Mike on the phone. The pretentious director encourages her to suffer, live the part etc. He says “live, live, live!” which echoes the “love, love, love” message from Zelda Baby. The audience now knows she’s preparing for a part and using an unwitting Mike as her scene partner.

Peter now gets his own plot. He takes a call from Manny Spink who pretends to be a theatrical booking agent, booking a job for the Popsicles. Manny and partner are actually placing bets on horses, using the answering service as bookies.

Mike and Micky arrive at the theater and ask about Ellen. The director hams it up; she’s nervous, depressed, and ready to end it all. Mike wants to go back to her apartment. Micky says he should relieve Peter, but Mike says Peter will be fine. Cut to Peter pressing the red button and falling into that famous bed. The bed slides back into the wall and traps him.

Back at the chase scene, Davy runs through the halls with an Olympic torchbearer, a football player and a gorilla (the one from “Monkees Chow Mein”), in addition to the Smiths [“I know, I know … it’s serious …” -Editor] and the girl with the towel. They all enter the Smith apartment. Davy comes out alone with the towel and the torch. Subversively suggesting that there’s a naked girl left in the apartment. These chase scenes remind me a lot of The Benny Hill Show (1955-1991). I’m not alone in thinking it may have been an influence.

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Ellen answers the door to Mike with a noose around her neck and dramatically poses, calling him “Jeffrey.” Mike says he’s from Urgent Answering Service, checking on her phone since she hasn’t called in for her messages. Still acting, she says she doesn’t have any messages because no one cares if she lives or dies. Mike reads little pieces of paper from his shirt and pocket, “Dear Ellen, We need you, we love you. The city wants you. Don’t be depressed, don’t be unhappy.”

In his comically awkward way, Mike blocks her every attempt to “kill herself.” Mike chases Ellen around the table, like he did Miss Buntwell in “Dance Monkee, Dance.” It amuses me that his scenes with women end up this way, even if the contexts are different. She asks him to help her with the noose she has around her neck. Mike wants to talk instead. In a funny visual, he picks up the rope and walks her off camera, like she was a dog on a leash.

The actress playing Ellen is fun when she drops the “acting” with him here and there. This is all very sweet, and would be more so if she wasn’t just using him for rehearsal. Not that I’m saying it would be better if she really was suicidal. All the talk of suicide, Mike’s emotional commitment to being her hero, and the irony that she’s just using him give this episode an dark quality that I enjoy.

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At Urgent Answering Service, Micky and Davy search for Peter. They push the red button, ejecting the bed with a sleeping Peter on it. Peter wakes up and explains that he pushed this red button… So they push it again and Peter goes back into the wall. Micky and Davy start looking for him again. Sometimes they’re not a lot smarter than he is.

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Mike reasons with Ellen, “Now look, I know things get kinda bleak sometimes, and It looks like the whole world’s just running around in circles.” Cleverly the editors cut back to the chase scene, still progressing wildly without Davy. Ellen promises Mike she won’t kill herself until tomorrow.

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At the answering service office, the gangsters are holding up the Monkees. Manny Spink calls them “bright boy” several times, an expression used in “Monkees in a Ghost Town.” Turns out Peter changed the bet from the Popsicles to the Pelicans, since he thought it was a real gig and the Pelicans needed the work [“Come on pelican!” -Editor]. Why didn’t he give it to the Monkees? Spink has lost money, and wants them to cough up 90K. The boys start pulling stuff out of their shirts and pockets and between them, they come up with $8.12 and two buttons that “ought to be worth a nickel.”

Mike walks in and ignores the tense scene, heading for the ringing phones. There’s physical comedy as he tries to squeeze between the two gunmen, who don’t yield. He misses the call and tries to leave the office, not really taking in what’s happening.

The two smaller stories now converge tidily. Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith walk into the scene; Mr. Smith is still angry at Davy for giving him the “wrong message.” While they argue, the crooks try to escape, but Davy stops them. Davy tells Officer Smith that Manny and his partner are gamblers, and they’ve been using the answering service to place bets.

Entertaining romp to “Look Out, Here Comes Tomorrow” (Neil Diamond). Highlights include Mrs. Smith joyfully hitting her husband and the gangsters with her purse, the Monkees and gangsters riding the hidden bed, and Peter pointing out the “Be Courteous” sign on the wall. After, as Mr. Smith is handcuffing his prisoners, Davy says he thinks the message was for another Mr. Smith, and the Smiths seem to make up.

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Micky wants to know about Ellen. Mike uses his faux-manly persona and assures them that “with my masculinity and my persuasiveness” he made her promise not to do anything until tomorrow. Davy points out Mike was hung up on her. Mike agrees, “she was so sad, and weak and depressed and pathetic and poor.” Weird to think this is what attracts him to a woman, but it goes with the need to be needed. As an actor, Michael Nesmith was charming, likeable and funny throughout this episode.

The not-poor Ellen comes in with a fur coat and lots of jewelry to thank Mike for helping her rehearse. She promises to send him a free picture when her name is in lights and she leaves. I feel for Mike. Ellen emotionally screwed him over. He gets in one of my favorite cynical lines from the entire series, “Behind every dark cloud, there’s usually rain.”

This is another episode that’s very close to my heart (no, it’s not my lungs). I admit it’s partly because it’s a Mike episode, but I also appreciate the episode structure and that each Monkee gets a piece of the action. The writers and director constructed the story carefully with the three separate plots that tie together via the answering service. So much happens, and the points are punctuated with well-executed sight gags. “Monkees on the Line” is a hilarious and satisfying episode, with an added dark edge that makes it a classic.

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by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees Vs. Macheen: “Alias Micky Dolenz”

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“They laugh alike, they walk alike, at times they even talk alike”

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David Jones was absent for “Alias Micky Dolenz” and the balance of the episode falls squarely on Micky, who really put his skills to the test in this episode, playing Micky, Baby Face, and Micky as Baby Face. He spends more time pretending to be “Baby Face” than he does as himself. Similar to “The Prince and the Paupers,” Micky takes on the identity of his doppelganger to help someone else (in this case, the police.) This is the first episode where Micky’s actions really drive the plot. He’s been the one to save the day a couple of times (“The Chaperone”, “I’ve Got a Little Song Here”), but up to this point, Davy Jones has been the focus of the series, with occasional nods to Peter and Mike. “Alias Micky Dolenz” was directed by Bruce Kessler and written by Gerald Gardner & Dee Caruso and Dave Evans.

The storylines launches right in with a case of mistaken identity. Micky parks his car in a lot (over the line, I might add) when he’s approached by a man in sunglasses who declares with awe, “It’s you!” He wants to know when Micky got out. This is the gangster we find out later is “Tony.” Micky touches him in a friendly way, Tony freaks out and starts beating him with the newspaper.

After the credits, Mike takes Micky to the police station, insisting he report the assault. When they enter, the police all freak out and duck. Micky and Mike have no idea what’s going on. Micky tries to report the beating to the Police Captain who asks, “Did you kill him?” Mike straightens it out by introducing Micky. The Captain pulls out a picture of Micky Dolenz in “gangster-wear” and explains that it’s Baby Face Morales, “the most vicious killer in America,” who is currently serving time. They arrested him but did not arrest his gang, nor did they recover the stolen property. The Captain, out of nowhere, says the police want Micky to help them get the “goods and the hoods.” There’s a long, rambling joke where Micky and Mike pretend to misunderstand what the Captain wants and “goods and hoods” is repeated many times. What the Captain needs of course is for Micky to impersonate Baby Face. Micky says he can’t impersonate a gangster. To which I say, “You must be joking!” What about “Monkees in a Ghost Town?” “Monkees a la Carte?” etc.? But Micky and Mike don’t want to get involved.

Two great sight gags follow. As Micky leaves, we see a cop hand-cuffing a man with a “Peace” sign to the bench. They only occasionally did topical or political jokes during the first season. This is a subversive jab at treatment of war protesters. Also, a meta-comment considering the level of violence is higher in this episode compared to others.

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The second joke is goofier but still funny. Believing that Micky and Mike are in a gang, the police duck every time Mike turns around with his guitar case (which they assume contains weapons). It’s even funnier because Mike is just trying to politely say goodbye, and he’s clueless about their terror. This doesn’t give me much confidence in the police in this town.

Also, it looks like the clip of Mike on the front steps of the police station happily clapping his hands that was used in the opening theme sequence for season two might have been shot and not used from this episode. The costume and set-up look like they’re from these scenes.

As soon as Micky steps outside, he’s the target of a drive-by shooting. He dashes back into the station. Accompanied by a frantic version of the theme song, Micky scrambles all over the office, jumping on the file cabinet and mimes the shooters. Once he stops running around, he agrees to help the cops. The Captain sends him to learn all Baby Face’s mannerisms.

Micky goes to Baby Face’s cell. Dolenz does a fine job giving Baby Face a different voice, walk, and demeanor. He adopts a very cool, slow way of talking. I keep reading these little bits online lately about how Micky auditioned to be the Fonz on Happy Days. After watching these scenes, I can picture that, Micky as the Fonz.

Micky tells Baby Face that he’s his cousin from Ohio. I actually believed him the first time I saw this episode. I thought maybe the writers were suggesting they’re look-alike cousins like The Patty Duke Show. At least there would be some genetic explanation of why they look alike. Then I realized Micky was just lying to Baby Face to justify his visit. Baby Face teaches him how to talk and walk like him [“I have a great walk.”  Fifty points to whoever gets that reference. – Editor], and what he says when he’s about to rough a guy up. Micky gets carried away and smacks the gangster, resulting in Baby Face trying to strangle him.

I guess the guard rescued him because in the next scene, the Captain shows Micky pictures of Baby Face’s gang and their rap sheets. (One of the gang has the surname of Fingerhead, reusing that from “Monkees à la Mode”). Micky goes to The Purple Pelican bar, now looking handsome disguised as Baby Face in a glorious gangster suit and hat. “Baby Face” is hoping to connect with the hoods. The first one to recognize him is a woman named Ruby who asks, “Aren’t you going to give your Ruby a great big kiss?”…and he kisses his ring. She tries to kiss him but he warns her to be careful of his porcelain crowns. “Baby Face” tells her he needs to find the boys and get his cut. Ruby updates him that Tony is in charge now, and he may not want to give it up. Tony and the boys come up from behind.

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Tony breaks a bottle to threaten Micky and launches a romp to “The Kind of Girl I Could Love” (Nesmith). Ruby kisses Micky and he falls down in front of the bar. The other gang members start fighting Tony. Everybody’s fighting, drinking, and breaking glass except Micky, so there’s really no Monkees in this romp at all. We see Ruby slumped down by the bar next to Micky. There’s this weird continuity error when Ruby stands next to a woman with the same exact hair and dress that she has. The other woman hits Ruby with a bottle and causes her to fall down next to Micky. But we’ve already seen her lying in that shot next to Micky several times. Ruby’s look-alike stays in the fight scene and smacks around several of the men. No damsels in distress in this episode, baby! Given the energy of the romp, I think they should have picked a more up-tempo song.

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At the end, Tony and his gang are beaten. Micky stands up and takes credit for it, even though he did zero fighting. The gang agree that “Baby Face” is the boss. Micky accidentally opens the ladies’ room on his way to the backroom, and girls run out screaming.

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In the back room, “Baby Face” tells the gang the plan for tomorrow night: They’ll pick up the diamonds, split up, and go under cover. He tells them he’ll bring a few “specialists” to help with the pick-up. Micky is hilarious in the scene because he seems very cool and in control while pretending to be Baby Face, but then he does things like fumble his gun or sputter and gag when he takes a drink of whisky. Because of these gaffs, Tony gets suspicious enough to tail him.

At the pad, Micky’s on the phone with the cops, confirming the specialists will meet him at the hideout. I thought the “specialists” were always meant to be Mike and Peter, but apparently there were cop-specialists that were supposed to go along. Mike and Peter are listening to Micky on the phone, and Peter offers to go with him. Peter! So nice to see you in this episode. Micky describes Tony as a sadistic killer, full of hate and malice as he wanders right into Tony and the gang, who’ve gotten in without knocking. Tony tells “Baby Face” they’re going tonight instead of tomorrow. Mike and Peter quickly go with them as the “specialists.” They miss the call from the Captain who wanted to tell Micky that the real Baby Face has busted out.

Here’s a fun fact about Robert Strauss, who plays the Captain. He guest starred in an episode of The Man from U.N.C.L.E. called “The Dippy Blonde Affair” along with frequent Monkees director, James Frawley. Check it out if you get the chance. Frawley’s a pretty good actor.

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Baby Face goes to the Purple Pelican and finds Ruby, giving her the same line about the porcelain crowns when she tries to kiss him. I’m only mentioning this because I’m wondering if it’s suggestive in some way, like her kiss would suck the crowns out of his head? Someone must have thought it was funny, because both “Baby Face” and Baby Face mention it. Anyway, Ruby inadvertently lets him know that the gang is off picking up the diamonds.

Micky, Peter, Mike, Tony, and his gang enter the house where the diamonds are hidden, which is the same place they were stolen from. “Baby Face” can’t “remember” where in the fireplace they hid the diamonds. Mike and Peter prepare to blow it up so all the stones will fall out. This involves a long sequence of Mike going into the fireplace to set up while talking on and on. Peter stands outside mutely with the plunger and equipment. Mike looks at the camera and says “This is for you, Dale” when he gets ready to set off the explosion. For Dale Evans of The Roy Rogers Show maybe? Of course Mike blows up the wrong thing, this time a piano in the back. The real crooks start chipping away at the stones. A policeman comes to the door, noting that the owners are on vacation and no one should be there. Instead of being suspicious of crime, he wants to sell tickets to the policeman’s ball. The policeman, by the way is played by Don Sherman who is in the season two Monkees episode, “Monkees Marooned.”

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They find the diamonds just as the real Baby Face pops up in the doorway. Tony says there’s only one Baby Face, so one must be an imposter. Each tries to prove he’s the real Baby Face by answering questions about former crime jobs. Who drove the getaway car in the Seamen’s Bank job? Baby Face and “Baby Face” answer “Steve Blauner.” (This is a reference to series consultant Steve Blauner, who went on to executive produce The New Monkees.) Peter accidentally reveals Micky, calling him by name. Someone hits the lights and the Monkees scramble around and subdue the crooks with sheets, as the cops arrive. Apparently, the patrolman figured out something was wrong from earlier. They reward the Monkees with jewelry, which seems unorthodox. In a joke that wouldn’t work during or after the 1980s, Micky makes a sad face and asks, “What am I going to do with an earring?”

Tag sequence in the police station as the Captain explains to Mike that there is one loose end. Now, we get two jabbering, hyperactive men claiming to be Micky, instead of two swaggering hoods claiming to be Baby Face. Mike and the Captain look at each other as if they’d rather lock up both “Mickys” than figure this out. [Kill us both, Spock!  I know I used that one before. – Editor]

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Tag sequence is performance footage of all the Monkees playing “Mary, Mary” (Nesmith) at their pad. I wanted to add this story about “Mary, Mary” with the “I’ve Got a Little Song Here” recap, but I ran out of room, so I’ll do it now. The first band to record “Mary Mary” was actually the Paul Butterfield Blues Band on their album East-West from 1966. The Monkees version was released in 1967. According to Glenn Baker’s Monkeemania book, Paul Butterfield’s record label used to get letters from fans who wouldn’t believe Mike Nesmith wrote the song and accused him of stealing credit. Elektra records created a form letter in response, clarifying that Mike did indeed write the song. The Paul Butterfield Blues version sure is different than the one I’m used to.

If you were really missing Davy, there’s an interview with him at the end. He explains he wasn’t in the episode because went to England for his sister’s wedding, which he missed anyway. He says he visits England frequently and never gets homesick even though he’s been travelling for six and half years. He also jokes with Bob that at the end of the day, everyone is tired and angry and they want to go home.

Interesting episode with more drinking and violence than usual, and very little of that action involved the title characters. The episode is solid and funny with some good acting. If you’re a Micky fan, this may be one of your favorites. I love his quick way with a line and knack for physical comedy. I prefer seeing them play off of each other, that’s one of the best things about the show. There isn’t much chance for them to do that here. And I’m always a bit bummed out when one of the Monkees is missing. But I have to admit, “Alias Micky Dolenz” is still entertaining and memorable.

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look-out-for-alias

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees Vs. Macheen: “I Was a Teenage Monster”

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“He’s a Monster. He’s an Android. Monster! Android! He’s a Monster and an Android. Forget it Bronwyn, it’s The Monkees.” 

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Hurray for Halloween episodes! Of course, “I Was a Teenage Monster” didn’t debut on Halloween. It originally aired January 9, 1967. Since they shot it from November 1-3 in 1966 there was no way it would be ready for Halloween [This would require a time machine – Editor]. All the same, I love their spooky-themed episodes which would include: “Monkee See, Monkee Die,” “A Coffin Too Frequent,” “Monstrous Monkee Mash,” and this one. Like the previous episode, “The Case of the Missing Monkee,” this is a genre-parody episode; this time it’s horror [This time, it’s personal!  Sorry – Editor]. The title is a spoof on the film I Was a Teenage Werewolf (1957) starring Michael Landon. This freaky horror fest was directed by Sidney Miller, and written by Gerald Gardner & Dee Caruso and Dave Evans.

As in “Monkee See, Monkee Die” the Monkees arrive in a spooky house and are instantly disturbed by their surroundings. The boys are all wearing their matching blue Monkees shirts, ready to play a party, but their host, Dr. Mendoza, lets them know that it’s not the case. They’re actually there to teach a “youngster.” Groot, Dr. Mendoza’s “Igor” analog, interrupts and takes Mendoza away. They go to the lab where they pull a sheet off a giant Frankenstein type. It’s Richard Kiel, yeah!

When this ran on MTV in the mid ’80s I was so excited to see Richard Kiel on this show. I had seen him in The Spy Who Loved Me as Jaws a million times on cable and in that movie, he is genuinely scary. Here, he’s adorable. He’s so wonderfully expressive throughout the episode that it’s amusing the Monkees find him frightening.

The Monkees want to know if it’s Mendoza’s son they’ll be teaching and Mendoza creepily answers that it’s his “flesh and blood.” They go to the lab where Mendoza reveals to them the “little Monster.” Micky breaks the fourth wall to tell us “The little monster IS a little monster.” He’s more of a big monster since Kiel is over seven feet tall. There’s lots of breaking the fourth wall in this one, the most I’ve seen in an episode thus far. It gives this particular episode almost a “live” feeling. As does the mostly wide shots that resemble a stage-play.

The Monkees panic and try to make all sorts of excuses to leave. Except Peter of course. Peter gets attached and thinks the Monster’s harmless. Peter’s absolutely right, even though the Monster keeps roaring at them at a frightening volume. Mendoza explains they’re not teaching a monster, he’s really more of an android. Mike utters this little gem, “We can’t tutor a computer.” I never noticed before that Mendoza called him an android. In light of what happens later, the designation android makes perfect sense. Mike busts out the faux-macho deep voice again, and declares he can’t risk his men on this foolish plan. Mendoza exploits their need for money and offers to double the original payment from $100 to $200. So the Monkees agree in this little cutaway:

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Left alone with the Monster, Peter becomes very much like a little kid and wants to keep the Monster/android as a pet. Mike treats him like a child saying he’d have to take care of it. Super-scientist Micky explores the lab, nearly spilling a beaker that Mike rescues and notes could have been the Monster’s mother. Upstairs in the parlor, they start to work on teaching the Monster to be a rock star. Micky decides his image is wrong and thumps him in the chest. The Monster replies with a deep-voiced “Don’t do that”. Micky conjures up a few items to dress the Monster: a Beatles haircut, dark glasses, groovy clothes, and a guitar.

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They call him “it,” but I’m going with “he.” It’s telling that they go with the superficial rather than teaching him any music. This is the stereotype of being a rock star, image over musicianship. What’s also humorous is their fear is also superficial; it’s just based on his size and his growly voice. The Monster hasn’t made any aggressive moves towards them at all. Next, they try to teach him to move on stage and play drums but both attempts end badly [Meg White, he ain’t – Editor]. He hip-checks Peter and Davy off stage and breaks Micky’s drumsticks. The Monkees want to leave, promising to come back tomorrow to work on his voice but Mendoza insists it late and they should stay the night.

The Monkees are in their creepy room. Meanwhile, Groot checks with Mendoza on the plan to transfer the Monkees talent and voices to the Monster.  He says some science mumbo-jumbo to explain it. The Monkees discover a girl in their closet, who introduces herself as the Doctor’s beautiful daughter. (There’s also a black lacy bra hanging in the closet behind her.) They shut her back in there and go to watch TV. A little meta-humor here, as the dialogue for the movie they’re watching involves a doctor transferring a man’s brain into and ape.  One by one, each Monkee disappears from the room.

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Our boys find themselves chained to the wall in Mendoza’s lab, where Mendoza reveals his plan to give their musical talent to his creation. Mike tells Mendoza he could get the chair if they die, something he also told Bessie in “Monkees in a Ghost Town.” Nice of him to try and caution these wackos. Mendoza says the transfer won’t kill them and demonstrates by transferring current with two wires. He causes explosions to go off in the lab.

Amusing bit as Davy takes his hands out from where they’re supposed to be chained to make a pleading gesture. He breaks the fourth wall to apologize to the cameraman. Pink puffs of smoke go off behind each Monkee as Mendoza finishes the process. Mendoza asks the Monkees to sing, and they give an off-key rendition of the theme. The Monster meanwhile, opens his mouth and sings with four voices and all instruments. He’s more of a playback machine. The android description fits better than monster. Mendoza and Groot dance around with glee! This is so silly. I love it. It could have been a full length musical.

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Mendoza warns them that he’s taking their memories away [Nothing the god of biomechanics won’t let you into Heaven for – Editor]. He has a long tube with two flat metal ends, and he puts one end to his neck and the other to each of the Monkee’s necks saying, “You will remember nothing.” They reply, “I will remember nothing.” I swear the actors or someone on set just pulled that out of their hat as a way to have them “hypnotized.” No wonder it doesn’t last long. I love Mike’s attempt to “resist” though. They have all this fabulous equipment on the set and this is the hypnosis device? It doesn’t compare to the amnesia ray in “The Case of the Missing Monkee.”

Back on the stage, the Monkees can’t play or sing or remember why. Mendoza actually takes back the money he gave them since they can no longer play. Wow, he really is evil. He steals their talent, AND has the nerve to take back the $200? Mendoza shows off the Monster, who plays “Tomorrow’s Gonna Be Another Day” with the Monkees voices.

The Monkees sit in their room and try to figure out what happened. Since the memory wiping was ridiculous, it doesn’t last long and they all remember having their talent stolen. They run to the lab, except Micky, who stops to ask the girl in the closet what she thinks of all this.

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Down in the lab, Micky is the one to try and figure out how to reverse the process. I guess Mendoza’s done playing with his toy, because there’s the Monster, in his old clothes and strapped to the wall. Speaking of that, it’s kind of a shame that Mendoza is talented enough to make a functioning humanoid android, and this is what he wants to do with it? That cynicism of the writers again, telling the audience everyone just wants to be in showbiz.

Mad scientist Micky starts monkeying around with everything in the lab to reverse the process. One of the bits of equipment looks like a turn-table with a stack of records on it. Micky realizes he can’t reach the devices while strapped to the wall so he gets a long cane to hit everything with. His first attempt changes the Monster into a hippie, “Let’s split and go to my pad. That’s where it’s at. Groovy. Dig” Micky’s next attempt gives Mike the Monsters’s voice, “Kill! Kill!” But that’s not really the Monster’s temperament.

Meanwhile, Mendoza suffers various distractions. He asks the mirror who’s the evilest one of all, and is disappointed it isn’t him. Well, he’s got my vote! The Mirror voice was provided by James Frawley. Mendoza next gets a call from a lady asking if he wants bossa nova lessons. That’s just got to be Miss Buntwell from “Dance, Monkee Dance,” right? Groot reminds Mendoza he promised to turn him into a tall, strong monster. Mendoza promises to turn him into a vampire.

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Micky’s lever-pulling in the lab turns the Monster momentarily into a flamboyant decorator. I just want to mention how great Richard Kiel’s acting is through all this; comical and engaging facial expressions and gestures. He may be an android, but he’s no stiff! Mike gives us a skeptical look. Micky promises to get it right. Instead, he spills a glass container, alerting Mendoza and Groot. They rush in and try to stop Micky. Micky shouts a non-sequitur “Curse you, red baron!” (Prescient shout-out to “Monkees Race Again?)

Mendoza orders the Monster to attack the Monkees, but Peter tries to use his friendship to stop him. The friendship could have been developed a little more, but Peter is the only person to give him a name, “Andy” presumably short for android. Also, this is the first real aggression we’ve seen from the Monster. Peter tells the Monster that Mendoza wants 60% of the Monster’s income, and the Monster turns to kill the Doctor instead. The Monster goes back and forth between Mendoza and Peter, not sure who to attack, until his swinging back-and-forth outstretched arms turn into a dance, leading into the romp for “Auntie Grizelda” (Diane Hildebrand/Jack Keller).

That was truly a genius moment, the lead-in to the romp. The romp is fun too, one of the best of the series and the second really good one in a row. Lots of chasing and fake scare bits, and the song suits it very well. Highlights include the Monster dancing, Micky as a DJ, and footage from the movie Reptilicus (1961). Davy leaps into the Monster’s arms and materializes a boxing glove. The Monster also meets the “villagers with their torches,” aforementioned in “Don’t Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth,” and he roasts marshmallows with them.

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Mike calls the police and tells them to pick up the bad guys on “Rosebud” lane. Cute and random nod to Citizen Kane when Mike says, “I thought that was the name of the sled.” The Monkees try to play their instruments but instead they break them all. Also, what are they going to do with the Monster, just leave him down there? I know he’s an android but will they just leave him shut off? No really, I’m very worried about this. He’s the best character.

There are a couple of loose ends I’d say. Not that they have to tie everything up in a neat little bow. I like shows that leave some things to the imagination. Also, the events of these episodes never have consequences anyway. Next episode, the Monkees will be able to play again. There were no plot strings like in today’s TV shows. Every episode can stand alone. This one stands alone as a groovy and charming monster movie parody, in large part due to the fabulous guest cast, cool set direction, and a smashing romp.

If you’ve missed any of these previous recaps, they are now conveniently available in an archive page.

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Look-Out-For

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees Vs. Macheen: “Too Many Girls” aka “Davy and Fern”

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“Talent Show, My…(Whistle)!” 

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I wasn’t super excited to write about this one, I admit. The storyline for “Too Many Girls” revolves around an often used plot device: Davy is in “love.” On the plus side, writers were obviously aware of it and making fun of it themselves; using a well-established trait of Davy’s to drive the story. Similar to “Success Story,” the conflict is about the possible loss of Davy as a band member. The best part is the talent show – that’s the centerpiece and most memorable sequence. The teleplay was written by Dave Evans, Gerald Gardner, Dee Caruso, from a story by Dave Evans. The episode aired on December 19, 1966, and James Frawley directed.

The opening scene is the Monkees rehearsing, and I do love it when they have story elements about them as a band. The actors are actually playing this bit of “Stepping Stone” that you hear. They had just returned from a two-week promotional tour of the series, in September of 1966, when they started production on this episode, so the four of them were probably very used to playing together by now. Davy spaces out during the rehearsal when he sees a girl. The object of his affection is Valerie Kairys; it’s always fun to spot her in an episode.

The Monkees that are not love-struck get rid of Valerie, and Davy snaps out of it and starts playing the maracas solo. He realizes what’s happened and makes a vow to the others: “no more girls.” Mike, who dominates in this episode with his efforts to keep control of things, wants to hold Davy to his word. Davy doesn’t even get through the vow before he’s locked eyes with yet another girl. Micky, Peter, and Mike find young women stashed all over the apartment and they escort them all out. They think they’ve found them all and collapse against the door, but when they look up, there’s Davy, surrounded by all the girls.

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The Monkeemobile screeches to a halt on the street. Our villains of the episode, Mrs. Badderly and her teenage/young adult daughter Fern, watch the Monkees from outside the tea room. Mrs. Badderly, says “the little one is Davy. He’s English. He likes tea.” But how did she know they were pulling up just then? Holy cow, maybe she really is psychic.

These women plan to swindle Davy, but not for money this time. Mrs. Badderly insists Fern needs Davy as a partner for a show business career. Davy’s such a sweet guy. I’m sure if Fern had just asked him to be her partner for the talent show, he would have said yes. No need to trick him. But that’s not enough, as Mrs. Badderly wants Fern to have a career with Davy. She’s on the phone with Mr. Hack, assuring him that Fern has an act for his TV amateur show. Mrs. Badderly has pepper and a nail and tells Fern to do as she says, laughing manically for good measure.

The Monkees conveniently decide to patronize the tearoom. Ms. Badderly goes to their table to read their tea leaves. She “sees” that Mike’s a musician, composer, and raconteur. Micky does a W.C. Fields impression to add that Mike “also contains lanolin and won’t upset your stomach.” (I enjoy noting Micky’s various impressions. Unlike Locksley, he is a master.) Mrs. Badderly also sees that Mike’s about to have a flat and Peter will come down with a 24-hour virus. Fern sprinkles pepper on Peter’s coat and presumably off-screen she stuck that nail in Mike’s tire. It’s easy to predict the future when you create it. I’ll have to give that a try.

Now the hook: Mrs. Badderly tells them that Davy will fall in love within 24 hours and he’ll leave his friends and home over it. Davy denies the possibility, but she says the tea leaves “never lie.” There’s a stand-up sit-down gag as the Monkees stand politely when she leaves the table. The score of violins crescendos whenever they stand. I suspect they used some of this music again in “Son of a Gypsy.”

Practical Mike’s not buying any of this. He goes on about the silliness of believing tea leaves as they approach their car, which indeed has a flat. When Peter starts sneezing, Davy reasons that’s two predictions and asks big brother Mike if his will come true too. Mike stuffs Davy into the back of the car and starts blowing up the tire with his mouth. In addition to being a “musician, composer, and raconteur,” his spit patches nail holes.

At home, Mike forgets he doesn’t believe Ms. Badderly’s predictions. He wants to keep Davy isolated from women for 24 hours. Davy says, “that’s half the world.” The other Monkees ignore Peter’s obsessive freak-out about “half the world” with half a globe. Mrs. Badderly and Fern have stalked the Monkees back to their home, and Mom pressures Fern into continuing with their nasty plan to break up the Monkees.

Now begins the series of scenes where Fern becomes a worthy opponent for the Monkees, borrowing their tactics of changing voices and disguises to get Davy alone. She is a bunch of different girls, trying to figure out which one can ensnare Davy. I wish there were more characters like her. The Monkees rarely came up against anyone their own age. Most of the baddies are older, established authority figure types. It would have been fun to see them in conflict with more girls like Fern, or competing with other bands that were their equal in antics. That said, Fern is acting on her Mother’s instructions.

First, Fern shows up at the Monkees door as a curvy and mature looking Girl Scout. With a squeaky voice, she pretends to sell cookies, hoping to get to Davy, but they quickly shut her out. Micky says, “Girl Scout my…” and the soundtrack helpfully fills in the implied “ass” with a whistle. Micky’s mouth didn’t say it, he just stopped at “my.” (Different than “The Devil and Peter Tork” when they’re all clearly mouthing the word “hell” that gets bleeped out.)

The next day, I assume, since they’re all wearing different shirts, they send Davy upstairs when they hear a knock at the door. It’s Fern posing as a passport photographer. Micky foolishly says yes to her, and she takes a picture of the three of them with a turn-of-the century camera, which magically gives them turn-of the century costumes for a second. The flash blinds them and she rushes upstairs to find Davy. Mike quickly stops her, trying hard to keep control of this situation. The boys show her the door.

Davy is tired of being confined and he starts to lose it, but Mike is firm with him. Davy argues they’ll have to tie him down if they want to keep him inside. Mike and Micky exchange glances and Mike makes a comical face, ridiculously pleased with the idea.

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Mike, you da man in this episode. They chain Davy to a chair and give him the TV to keep him occupied. When the others leave, Davy gets a “special delivery” note under the door. He makes an excited “whoop” and leaves, dragging the chair outside. The other Monkees find the note and tell us that it’s an invitation to judge a beauty contest, the ideal lure for Davy. Off they go to try and catch up.

Two funny sight gags as the Monkees search. The first is on the street when they ask a group of strangers which way he went; all of them point in different directions. I’d love to hear how that conversation went, “Have you seen a little guy chained to a big chair? He’d be sort of dragging it?” They think they’ve found Davy, but it turns about to be…another identically dressed guy, also dragging the same chair. This had me falling of my chair laughing.

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Davy arrives, not at all suspicious that the pageant is at the same tea room where they met Mrs. Badderly or that there’s only one contestant. It’s Fern, disguised in a cave-girl costume and long brown wig. This is the scene with the blurring where her bikini would be, due to NBC-TV Broadcast Standards and Practices (the same standards that didn’t want anyone to see Barbara Eden’s belly-button on I Dream of Jeannie, or any woman’s navel on Star Trek). YouTube has an uncensored clip, with some full body shots of her. On my DVD, they go right to a close-up of her face.  In the context of the un-blurred version, Davy’s expression changes from “stunned” to “turned-on.”

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The couple hears music every time they touch. Davy think it’s love, but it’s Mrs. Badderly in the next room with a record player. Davy says “I’m Davy Jones, and I think I love you.” (Wrong show, Davy, “I Think I Love You” is The Partridge Family.)   The Monkees arrive too late. Mrs. Badderly comes out and Davy “introduces” her to Fern. She reads Fern’s tea leaves and tells her she’s going to be a great success on a television show with Davy. Fern coaxes Davy into helping her. The Monkees sit in Davy’s chair to stop him. But…

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That was pretty hot – rubber chain or no. [I noticed that Davy’s shirt is designed to resemble a straitjacket – Editor.] Davy, Fern and her blurry body leave, and the Monkees sit in the chair and sulk. The phone rings and some unseen person [Frawley, I presume – Editor.] pushes it out to them. After a little hand-over-hand contest, Peter answers. Who picks up the phone in someone else’s place of business? The Monkees, that’s who. It’s Mr. Hack calling Mrs. Badderly to say that her daughter and Davy are scheduled to appear last on the amateur hour. Peter hangs up and relays to Mike and Micky. They all realize “her daughter and Davy!” They’ve been had again.

Now comes the part I’ve been waiting for: the talent show. The other three Monkees are at Mr. Hack’s televised Amateur Hour, performing under aliases to cause some trouble, as usual. Very nice Dickensian naming convention for Mr. Hack by the way. Although it’s also a reference to Ted Mack’s Original Amateur Hour. First up is the Astonishing Pietro. Peter is less than competent as a magician, but he gets the best line: “You’ll notice that my fingers never leave my hand.”

Mr. Hack announces “very gifted folk singer” Billy Roy Hodstetter. Mike gives a flustered performance of his own composition “Different Drum”. Hats off to him for this awkward self-parody, and he even mocks his own wink to the camera. I always loved “Different Drum” even before I knew Nesmith wrote it. This episode debuted almost a full year before the Stone Poneys’ version and this probably played even funnier once the popular version of the song was known.

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Locksley Mendoza: “Master of Impersonations” is up next. This is Micky as a comedian, being so unfunny, he’s back to funny again. All his impersonations sound exactly like his Cagney. While he does his act, Peter and Mike put rocks in Davy’s pocket and replace his dance cane with a rubber one. Peter helpfully tells the camera what they are doing. Mike gets Davy’s attention and sprays him with something to mess up his voice.

Davy and Fern go on stage to do a song and soft-shoe number, but Davy can no longer sing or keep up with her dancing. She screams at Davy, storms off stage and goes to her mother, who comforts her. A little contradictory, as it seemed at the beginning she was being pushed into this plot by her Mother, and now it seems like she wanted this to work. Davy is surprised to learn Mrs. Badderly is Fern’s mother.

rocks-in-your-pocket

Mr. Hack says there will be one more act after these words from our sponsor. The three Monkees let us know it’s “our” as in The Monkees sponsor. Mr. Hack advertises a product called SDRAWKCAB, which is Backwards, um…backwards. The last act is The Monkees, who play “I’m a Believer” (Neil Diamond) in beige Monkees shirts. Fern keeps crying to her Mom and, speaking for all the foes of the Monkees, Mrs. Badderly says:

Curses-Foiled-by-the-Monkees

Mike tells Davy that Fern and her mother were conning him. Davy blames himself for believing in the tea leaves. The winners of the contest? Davy and Fern. What? It’s not the Monkees? This is an outrage! Like in “Your Friendly Neighborhood Kidnappers,” the Monkees have unfairly lost a contest. As Davy said in “One Man Shy,” it’s not how you play the game, it’s whether you win or lose.

Of course the Monkees are never allowed to succeed in show business, but at least they didn’t lose Davy. It’s a more realistic plot-line, similar to “One Man Shy” where the story depends on character conflict and not high adventure, as in an episode such as “The Spy Who Came in from the Cool.” “Too Many Girls” isn’t as funny as some but there are a couple of laugh-out-loud moments. There’s also a central irony. Fern and Mom trick Davy into thinking he’s in love, because Davy’s always looking for love. He didn’t really love Fern, but he’s not in love with any of these girls anyway. The opening scene set that up very well. He gets infatuated with the next girl and the next girl and the next…He’s in love. For the very first time today.

Evil-too-many

Look-Out-For

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees vs. Macheen: “Monkees à la Carte”

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“If You Can’t Beat ’em, Confuse ’em.”

I’m really relieved to be past the pilot. For some reason, I found that to be a daunting task. Now we’re on to more fun episodes, like this one where they run into the mafia. Honestly, I always forget about this episode. It blends together with some of the other gangster-related stories. They do run into gun-toting crooks quite a bit: “Monkees in a Ghost Town,” “Your Friendly Neighborhood Kidnappers,” “Alias, Micky Dolenz,” “Monkees on the Wheel,” and “The Picture Frame” all have those types of antagonists. The Monkees live in a violent world, and they (mostly) don’t have any guns.

“Monkees à La Carte” was written by Gerald Gardner & Dee Caruso and Bernie Orenstein, directed by James Frawley and aired for the first time on November 21, 1966. At the start of the story, the Monkees are in an Italian restaurant, sharing a large cliché submarine sandwich. A nice old guy, Pop, is encouraging them to eat. That’s sweet; he hired them to play and he’s also feeding them. The actor playing Pop has an accent that’s hard to understand. A couple of unpleasant-looking men in suits come in and threaten and intimidate Pop into selling the place. Peter helpfully asks, for the benefit of the audience, if they are “hoods.”

The hoods do some very familiar shtick. Fuselli, the leader, throws a coin up, and Rocco, the henchmen tosses him a new one when he drops it. This echoes the entrance of Micky and Peter in “Monkees in a Ghost Town,” when they were pretending to be Big Man and Spider, and Spider hands the Big Man a coin to toss up. I was aware this was a homage to classic Hollywood gangster films, but wasn’t sure of any specific one. The pop culture-savvy group members of the Monkee Magic group suggested George Raft as the coin-tossing Guino Rinaldo in Scarface (1932).

Gangster-Coin-tossing

The new owners fire the Monkees, and Davy confronts the larger one, Rocco, telling him to pick on someone his own size. Rocco’s about a foot taller than Davy, and he points out there is no one his size. I’m already impressed with Davy for standing up to this giant, and then he gets even braver: When Rocco pulls a gun, Davy brushes it aside and tells him, “You’re pretty tough with a gun in your hand.” Rocco punches him and knocks Davy and all the other Monkees back.

Fist-in-your-hand

Since Pop is an underdog and a rare older adult that is kind to them, the Monkees have to help him out. Back at the pad, they have a meeting to discuss that. Mike has his gavel and wants suggestions from the “floor” about dealing with Fuselli, leading to a gag where Peter listens to the floor, the wall, and the ceiling. Davy, I guess dizzy from being hit (see the cute band-aid?), has lost his earlier bravery and thinks the gangsters are too tough. Mike’s already decided that they’re going to help Pop and ignores Davy’s protests that there wasn’t a vote. I love that they end the meeting by throwing papers all over the place. I wish we could end meetings like this at work.

The Monkees go back to Pop’s former restaurant and ask Rocco for their jobs back. Rocco hires them to wait tables since they “work cheap.” The other Monkees stick this job on Peter. This sets up the main theme in this episode: sticking Peter with everything. Peter auditions, successfully carrying large stacks of plates across the restaurant. In the kitchen, Peter lets go of the tray, which hovers (if you look close, you can see wires) for a few seconds, and then falls.

The Monkees are all in waiter’s uniforms, lined up for inspection. Fuselli shows them how they deal with people they don’t like by cuing Rocco to slap Peter. Micky gets in Fuselli’s face to show him how the Monkees treat people they don’t like, After an intimidating glare from Fuselli, Micky also slaps Peter. Peter wants to know what he did to deserve that.

Don't-do-it-again

That was such a cartoon violence moment. It’s more fun to see an aggressive, obnoxious character get knocked around, rather than a laid back, passive personality like Peter.

Fuselli lists their jobs: Chefs, dishwashers, musicians, hat check girl, cooks, cigarette girls. Well, we know they can dress as girls so, okay Fuselli. Now it’s time for a kitchen romp to “(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone” (Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart). This is another good plot-relevant romp. They run around the kitchen mostly; cooking, juggling plates, playing sides of meat like guitars, and dropping stuff. Don’t miss Peter sneezing on the salt shakers. Maybe he was hoping to make Fuselli and Rocco very sick? Mike gets tangled in spaghetti, and this was the same shot used in Success Story (shot later but aired earlier). The best part of this is Peter’s struggles with the pizza dough. He tosses it up and it doesn’t come down, so he gets a gun and tries to shoot it down.

Since their antics aren’t working, they go to the police station where they meet with the Inspector who is very intense, and possibly insane. The actor is hilarious, flipping emotional temperature in a split-second. He tells them they are dealing with part of the Syndicate, and “The Only members of the syndicate we’ve captured belonged to the Purple Flower Gang. But, we got all four of them!” Mike asks, “How’d you do that?”

Flower-to-Flower-2

The Inspector tells them they must connect Fuselli to the violent Syndicate. Micky says they’re violent too, and attempts to demonstrate on Peter again, but Peter evades him and they all run out. I’m glad Peter got away from him that time. Peter is my hero in this episode, he takes all the abuse and does all the work. It occurs to me that in most of the other episodes I’ve looked at for these posts so far, Peter hasn’t been given much to do. The character in previous episodes is good for a few sight gags, or to say humorously clueless lines but generally Mike or Micky do most of the useful things. This is an ensemble episode with all the Monkees working together to defeat a common enemy, but Peter is the standout, stand-up guy. And he’s STILL performing the best sight gags and lines.

The Monkees’ attempt to get fingerprints is foiled by Fuselli wearing gloves, and their plan to record an incriminating conversation is ruined by the usually mechanically adept Micky screwing up with the tape recorder. (A common problem for the Monkees, see Davy in “Royal Flush“) Next, they go for breaking and destroying. They sneak into the office, in bandit masks, planning to use explosives to blow open the safe. Instead, they blow up the desk and scramble to replace it with the still intact safe. Micky looks at the camera and assures me, “They’ll never know the difference.”

Fuselli holds a meeting with the Syndicate, which gives the Monkees an opportunity to help the police arrest them all at once. Out in the dining area, the Syndicate introduces themselves, including a female gangster, Big Flora. Peter offers his own introduction, and he really deserves the applause they give him.

Peter-Tork-Bass-guitar-II

The Monkees want to stay and listen to get the goods on the Syndicate but Fuselli gives them the boot and breaks out the big map, used to divide up the city among the Syndicate members. The Monkees re-enter disguised as the Purple Flower Gang, looking fabulous in cool gangster suits with white flowers in the buttonholes and fake mustaches. Flora questions the flower color, but Micky covers this in his gruff “gangster” voice.

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Peter slips up and says they’re hungry, so now they have to also be the waiters to serve themselves food on Fuselli’s orders. In the kitchen they “choose” to see who will go get the Inspector, but end up just making Peter go. Of course they do.

At the police station, Peter is immediately arrested as part of the Purple Flower gang. He protests that his flower is white, but crazy inspector offers a call-back gag, “Don’t try to kid me, I know how tough it is to find purple flowers.” They put him under hot lights, and shake him down, then play nice and offer him coffee. He enjoys the attention and being fed. Truly, the police are treating Peter better than the other Monkees do in this episode. Peter takes credit for every criminal activity including the sinking of the Lusitania, the Great Train Robbery etc.

At the restaurant, Micky, Davy, and Mike run back and forth, quick-changing costumes from crooks to waiters as the meeting continues. The Syndicate members continue to fight over Fuselli’s map. Mike and Davy turn it into a giant game of tic-tac-toe. The chaos-loving Monkees start tearing up the map and handing out the pieces of paper. Davy stuffs some of the map into a gang member’s mouth. As the crooks start fighting, Micky and Davy shake hands on a job well done and look at us knowingly. This is one of their favorite maneuvers, delaying the antagonists by creating chaos and confusing them.

One hood says this room isn’t big enough for all of them, so the Purple Flower gang volunteers to split. The real gangsters start pulling out guns and shooting. Under the table the Monkees agree they’d better do something. Micky stands up to stop the proceedings and calls a cute young woman in a fur coat to the scene.

Pretty-Girl

Thank you, James Frawley. Or the writers, or whoever came up with that. That was a really well-placed use of a unexpected, unrelated joke.

The shooting continues. Micky pops up behind the shoulders of various bad guys and tries to get them to stop: “Five people should be able to get along!” (Bang!) “Four people should be able to get along.” That was a funny, dark joke. This is a weird, bloodless bloodbath as bodies drop on the table but no blood effects are used. The gangsters are disposable, and their faux-dramatic deaths are played for humor, they’re not deaths we care about. Under the tables, Davy and Mike coolly ignore all the chaos and gunfire and continue to play tic-tac-toe. Every crook is dead, and the Monkees are not at all bothered. They got out of the situation by letting the adversaries destroy each other.

Peter brought the police, hurray! Unfortunately the Monkees are still dressed as the Purple Flower Gang, so the Inspector arrests them. More of “Stepping Stone” is heard with some footage from other episodes, the most relevant being the bits of them walking around the cell in Ghost Town and playing with the flood lights from “I’ve Got a Little Song Here,” mixed with the prison break bit from the pilot.

They don’t show us how they straightened things out with the inspector. Maybe Pop helped, because here he is, in his restaurant saying “Play for me boys, play like you used to.” The performance is separately shot footage of “She” (Tommy Boyce, Bobby Hart) with the band in grey suits and a blue background. They do some interesting angles, with Mike blurry in the foreground and the focus on Micky, who is singing. On a shallow note, Micky looks very handsome. Shots of the band are mixed in with some old black and white footage of women in bathing suits and circus performers, and other footage of people dancing. I don’t get the relevance.

Maybe I won’t forget about this one next time. There were many funny lines and this must hold the record for the most deaths in a Monkees episode. There are other violent episodes for sure. In “Everywhere a Sheik, Sheik,” a character dies on screen from poisoned meat. Many more bullets are fired in “Hillbilly Honeymoon” but we never see bodies. When we see the thugs in “Your Friendly Neighborhood Kidnappers” they are putting a guy’s feet in cement, so surely he’s about to be a corpse. Something about dark humor like this always appeals to me. On a show like The Monkees, it’s even better because it’s unexpected. It’s one of the things that keeps me coming back to the show as an adult, laughing at things that, most of the time, we’re expected to take seriously.

Evil-Carte

Look-Out-For

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.

Monkees vs. Macheen: “Success Story”

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“The Monkees Probably Should Have Been Arrested”

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The 6th episode, “Success Story” had an emotional story-line compared to other episodes and was also the first to feature a Monkees family member. There was an unusually stereotypical situation-comedy feel with a main character getting in trouble for deceiving a loved one. I wasn’t really looking forward to writing about this one, but as I watched I rediscovered a lot of funny moments.

One of the elements creating the mood was the incidental music, composed by Stu Phillips, which expresses the sensitive nature of this episode. Mr. Phillips began composing for movies and television in 1958 and was the founder of Colpix Records (a label that signed Michael Nesmith and Davy Jones as solo artists before they were cast on the show, and later became Colgems). Phillips’ music can be heard in 54 of the 58 Monkees episodes. He’s known for his work on Quincy, M.E., Knight Rider, and many other television shows and films, including two of my favorite Sci-Fi shows from childhood, Battlestar Galactica and Buck Rogers in the 25th Century.

“Success Story” debuted October 17, 1966 on NBC. Oddly, the writing/directing credits run at the start of the episode instead of the usual spot after the opening theme and they are as follows: Written by Gerald Gardner & Dee Caruso and Bernie Orenstein, Directed by James Frawley.

The Monkees play cards with Mr. Schneider, who gets his first line, paraphrasing George Bernard Shaw: “It’s a shame to waste youth on children.” The plot kicks off with Davy receiving a telegram from his grandfather who’s coming to visit. Davy’s distressed because he’s been lying to him about being rich and successful. Micky selfishly (and amusingly) tells Davy it’s his problem. Davy explains that when his grandfather finds out the truth, he’ll have to leave the band. Meanwhile, the telegram man is trying to shake down Mr. Schneider for $1.80 for the collect telegram.

Your-problem

Mike suggests they make Davy “look” rich and so begins a series of scenes where the Monkees steal the appropriate costumes and props. Usually they just quick-change into disguises, but in this episode we see how they acquire their costumes. Micky swipes a Rolls Royce by tricking the owner into letting him “exercise” his car. Micky’s character is mechanically inclined, maybe echoing the real-life fact that Micky Dolenz worked as a mechanic for Mercedes Benz in 1964.

Mike appropriates a chef’s costume by getting hired and immediately fired as a chef, complete with a cute look to the camera when he gets away with it. The kitchen is the same set from the later “Monkees à la Carte ” episode. Micky acquires a fake chauffeur’s costume by convincing the telegram man to switch clothes with him, so he can demonstrate how to get the $1.80 from Mr. Schneider.

Peter approaches an ice cream cart. In a very Harpo Marx way, he gets the ice cream seller’s jacket without even speaking. This impresses me, but not as much as the weirdness that follows: The now topless ice cream man is suddenly stampeded with men in suits, demanding ice cream as though his bare chest made everyone hot and hungry. Charlie Callas has funny, exaggerated facial expressions in the scene.

Ice-cream

 

Davy reviews his “staff” in their new costumes to prep for gramps. He takes to his rich kid roll a little too well, getting annoyed with the other boy’s antics. Davy is seriously hoping he’ll look convincing as a successful star. The storyline relates to the overall theme of the Monkees quest for success, though this time it’s just the appearance of success to keep an older adult from worrying.

Chauffer

At the airport, pretend chauffeur Micky repeats his nasal doorman voice from “Monkee See, Monkee Die.” Davy picks up his grandfather while Mike and Peter work to make Davy look famous. Mike plays various autograph seekers and Peter takes pictures for the “press.” Cecil Cabot from “Royal Flush” is back and she approaches him for an autograph when she sees all the fuss. Davy thinks she’s Mike in disguise and kids around with her. The fact that Mike is about a foot taller than Cecil Cabot didn’t really clue him in to his mistake.

Mike and Peter play chef and houseboy roles while Grandfather and Davy have dinner at the house. They don’t have money for two fancy meals. Davy has plastic/rubber food, and the film rewinds to emphasize him bouncing it off the table. Davy complains that he’s hungry enough to eat a horse and we’re treated to a flash to future episode “Don’t Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth” with the boys pulling a horse through the house. It’s all over when the various victims of the Monkees theft show up wanting their stuff. Grandpa catches on quick, and Davy is busted. To make matters worse, the lights go off because they didn’t pay the electric bill. Grandfather tells Davy to pack for England.

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This is one of the rare times on the series where we see an older adult on the show taking care of the young Monkees or having their best interests at heart. In previous episodes the boys were on their own, facing older adults who wanted to destroy them or at least take advantage of them. This time the grandfather, though we certainly don’t want him to break up the Monkees, has his heart in the right place. There’s some nice acting on the part of Davy Jones and Ben Wright when Davy is sorry for lying and compliant about leaving with him. The music score is noticeably more serious here. Mike isn’t having it though, and tells Grandfather he’s only taking Davy because he misses him and needs him around. Grandpa won’t own up to this. For those of us living far from our parents, I think we’ve all been here. The older generation can’t understand why the younger ones aren’t living the way they want them to live. It doesn’t change when you’re out of your 20s either. The generation gap that’s represented here is something that resonates today.

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Davy walks around with pretty hair and sad eyes as the song “I Want to Be Free” (Tommy Boyce & Bobby Hart) plays, and there’s footage of the Monkees playing with the kids that was used in “Monkee Vs. Machine” and other footage “memories” of them hanging out. Emotional scenes are not really what this show does best, but you have to have serious or touching moments sometimes in order for the comedy to have impact. Davy says a sad goodbye to the other Monkees and Peter gives him a parachute just in case Grandfather changes his mind on the way over. Aww…Peter. Peter is the only one Davy hugs. I guess the others are too manly. Looking at this now, it has an especially poignant feeling with David Jones’ sad death in 2012.

The three orphaned Monkees cry comically for a few seconds and then Mike gets it together and tells the other Monkees and the audience they’re going to stop Davy from getting on the plane. Of course they are; they’re off to create havoc!

Crying

Now we get the scenes of airport mayhem, and watching it in this new millennium, it’s hard not to think about how much they’d be suspected of terrorism. On the other hand, I’d be disappointed if they did anything less.

Micky sets up a fake baggage claim for Gramps, and busts out a British twit voice while messing up his suitcase and directing him to the wrong gate. Peter freaks out Grandpa with an Icarus/Daedalus impression, running around with fake wings screaming “don’t fly!” Mike arrives driving an airport golf-cart and pretends to take Grandpa to his flight. He drives around chaotically, terrorizing and nearly running over other travelers. Meanwhile, Davy waits and wonders what’s keeping his grandfather. Really? I think he knows his buddies better than that.

Grandfather Jones is smarter than most of the opponents they’ve tried to fool thus far. Even quicker than Daggart, he has the wit to see through their disguises. Their insane behavior convinces him that Davy has good friends that really care about him, and he lets him stay. In the meantime, he’s picked up the Cecil Cabot character and he’s taking her to England. Well, I guess “fast-mover” is a trait that runs in the Jones family!

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In the tag sequence, the Monkees sit at the same park from “Your Friendly Neighborhood Kidnappers” and “The Spy Who Came in from the Cool.” Micky realizes they could have tried actually playing music to impress Davy’s grandfather. This launches a romp for “Sweet Young Thing” (Michael Nesmith, Gerry Goffin and Carole King) where some senior citizens dance and frolic with the Monkees. Toward the end there’s a weird bit where the seniors chase them around with cards in their hands, maybe BINGO cards. Mixed in are shots of the Monkees playing instruments with close-ups of Mike looking slightly sweaty and very attractive.

The episode ran short again and they fill time with another interview segment. This one appropriately features Davy talking about going home to visit his family. It’s a cute story about his father thinking his hair is too long and making him get his haircut twice before letting him into the house. Davy says he bought a house to give his father in Davy’s own name so that can’t happen again.

Speaking of long hair, in the documentary We Love the Monkees (2012) Micky notes that the television network at the time must have been nervous about putting The Monkees on TV because “the only time you saw long-haired kids on television, they were being arrested.” Growing up in the ’70s and ’80s, some men and boys had long hair and no one thought twice about it. It’s hard to imagine long hair being associated with a criminal element. But, in the episodes I’ve written about so far the Monkees have done a few insane things that could’ve gotten them arrested. Just for fun, here’s the rap sheet:

Arrested

Monkees in jail_sm

Look-Out-For-Success

 

by Bronwyn Knox

Every couple of weeks, “Monkees vs. Macheen” examines the crazy, spirited, Ben Franks-type world of the Pre-Fab Four: David Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork alias The Monkees.