Reviews

After just watching, for only the 3rd time & in a compilation, this brilliantly realized retelling of 1 of the most horrific battles for survival in the skies above - surpassing the struggles aboard United Airlines Flight 93 only in length of time - I had to insert a wee bit of Flintstonian humor in the subject line to offset some the still present fright at what this crew endured at the mitts of a madman. I wonder that a cinematic treatment - ye bigger budget, Big Name actors & such - could approach the edge-of-the-couch absorbing setup on this smaller:screen level. I count it among the very best of Air Disasters retellings, its superb visual effects - from the recreated plane including the original Federal Express paint job (I still call that outfit thus, from being of the old school as well as not happy at all with its truncated version insulting the Washington Redskins stadium & that corporate pig outfit putting the arm on the disgraceful "owner" to change our name) & the beyond belief fight to the death aboard that airplane. Knowing the happy outcome aside, it still is nearly as difficult to watch as the nightmares of September 11th - only, to misappropriate the lyrics of a heartbreaking tearjerker song decades past, "I ain't (cr)ying" about this one. The pounding heart, quickened near panicked breathing & popped eyes, though, are exactly the same. Recalling also the sadly different end to the hijacked Pacific Southwest Flight 1771, that one like with Tue, Sept 11, 2001 I sure wept over. These subjects are rarely of the "feel good" variety, & the retellings not "perfect" sometimes in certain, & critical details (I was absolutely outraged over the depiction of the 5/25/79 unspeakable tragedy of AA Flight 191 at O'Hare Airport as having "first slammed into an airport hangar" & "2 workers" therein also losing their lives), but the efforts of all concerned to inform the public are to be lauded & commended for their sincerity - & ability to wring pained scared tears out of their audience to leave what I've heard about & seen of depictions of old '50s soap operas wheels-up in the ditch in comparison. We cannot do anything about historical airborne events beyond wishing they could have been different (& I do not mean *worse* as some deviants among us would have it), & hope mightily for fewer such incidents hence - I was overjoyed at the news of that Air Bus outfit discontinuing their giant, amazing A380, which lessened the dread possibilities of 1 going down with enough souls onboard to surpass the Tenerife disaster by itself - & be info-edutained by the stories in this production, which ain't "long-running" from well-placed bribes & slick gift certificates. Safest & happiest air travel to all!

"What a pity," as Dr. Zachary Smith himself put it, that such an enlightening indelible little carving of M*AS*H is so ironically labeled with 1 of the dullest titles in its storied history - I could have done better easily in the 6th grade! - though the contemporary viewing audience still around would not yet know of this for many long years. My regard for this episode has not changed in all these decades despite its Disappointment Island resident "canonic" flaws. The uninitiated (having seen neither the ho-de-la-hum - "said with affection," in no less than Colonel Potter's own words - original movie or this program's early, more inclusive chapters - & Nurse Kellye must've been on leave painting Tokyo town red) will be of the wrong impressions that these "Nurses" are a) all such complement among the 4077th crew; b) that the place was populated by 98% white people; & c) that somehow (observed elsewhere, though directed at the "quarantine patient") there was noplace else for the Major to crash, even only overnight, than squeezed in with a quartet of subordinates she was clashing with. Such a ridiculous state of affairs had already been aired aboard ye Federation starship Enterprise ("Elaan of Troyius," 1968) wherein somehow that spacegoing tug had no other room for, especially the future (titular) equivalent of Princess Diana, that VIP than to inconvenience the chief Communications officer Lieutenant Uhura, for accommodations. In both cases this was done purely as a drama-creating device (which hopefully since has not been worked til it dropped), which here actually was more effective for more than just that. Miss Loretta Swit said as much herself, & who should try to argue against that? So it is that while its not insubstantial blemishes keep it from being of 10/10 character, they are not enough to diminish it past a 9; & overall it takes its place among the best & most endearing of M*A*S*H, which this now being 47 years later ain't nothing to sneeze at - oops, no pun! {:^)

After some years having not set sail on this creaky tugboat of a Columbo outing, I heaved a sigh & climbed aboard - only to be instantly reminded why I had passed up passage thereupon for so long. Aside from the appearance of himself become a grinding weariness with the SAME shabby rags (& his charmless cheapness that does not recall Jack Benny's legendary portrayal), the other resounding (& inescapable) aspect here that should have gone to see Davey Jones's locker is the Special Guest Star label applied to this Diane Baker person. I knew nothing of her aforetime except her name, having read somewhat of her in passing sometimes, but if her work here is supposed to be emblematic of why she was regarded as SGS-level material, both they & she "missed the mark!" Larry Tate style. I can only imagine the expressions on my in turns puzzled/annoyed face being subjected to this nakedly unconvincing performance. How it was that Miss Diane became, in the end result, just so LOUD & physically overwrought as a "society" drunk, who fell even flatter than an actual boozehound faceplanted on the deck, is something only historical backstory can provide. So for the viewer of similar observation it becomes a "Speculation, Captain !" (Kirk) moment as to who's to blame here - much like.hiw it was Kathy Bates in the mostly so tiresome Titanic (1997) gave such an underpowered accounting of her dynamic character Molly Brown. I was left exasperated & irritated by Miss Diane's insincer flailing about with the depth of a cracked kiddy pool - unfortunately I have a family history of & exposure to a clutch of "elbow-bending boozers!" (Major Frank Burns), such that nearly every performance of those I've seen have not been very ... "legitinate."to These Eyes & ears. (Even now after the passage of all this time a memory of 1 particular example pops up with unwelcome immediacy, yugg )

Aside from that sadly wretched exercise in Vastly Overrated (some "doctor" or other named Smith), which did not inspire looking up more info about or seeing anything else the lady has done - though any incidental appearances, like this, I won't reject out of hand - this low seas adventure didn't raise the Plimsoll's line of Columbo episodic quality. Especially, of course, compared to the rumpled lieutenant's other All Wet adventures (in which he so mercifully is mostly shed of them crappy clothes!). Despite (or because of) once more being deployed as a beardless Blackbeard, Robert Vaughn fails to conjure up the same menacing aura as on the cruise dinghy (S4 E4 "Troubled Waters," 1975); why this was the last time he conflicted with Columbo is anyone's conjecture. The other players are similarly ... "indistinct,"with none save the still frosty gtouch John Dehner leaving a memorable mark in the process - "positive," that is, vs. Miss Diane whose horrible harridan wanted to be walked down the plank herself. (Jeez even now a fleeting vision of her, drink clutched in claws staggering about making those (far) less than "naturalistic" braying noises, cones to mind.) It's nice for me seeing the Commodore's boat, but since she don't go nowhere my love of the water that goes with it isn't much satisfied. Happily, though there ain't any sailing involved with those waters, Columbo battling wits with an American Dame Agatha Christie (Ruth Gordon, S7 E1 "Try & Catch Me," 1977) does involve the crashing surf in the shore, do beautiful, as well as an acutely better story & acting. Hey I believe I'll go disl it up now! No savage criticism here - & may all involved no longer here R. E. I. P. - but "the facts have got to be faced" that this story wasn't well told, & unfortunately Miss Diane Baker managed to sink it for me to only a 50% assessment. Now to go reacquaint with Miss non-Baby Ruth!

Invoking the Plasma Boy from Buzz Lightyear (2000) I felt singularly appropriate after seeing this here feature. "Extremely interesting" à la Spock pertains as well. It has its moments, enough of which to keep me from bailing on it - even a couple what moved me eyes to dampness - but not sufficient for me to rate it any higher. This is chiefly due to F. Whitehead's portrayal of the bad elder son, wherein his line deliveries & character projection are too frequently are as flat as his lips are thin. Intermittent flashes of real menace Just Ain't Good Enough to wholly redeem his efforts, puzzlingly interspersed with concern for their mother - which flamed out horribly at some less than Motel 6 fleabag party. However, it was in the end that his character's (late) concern for his little brother that came through effectively enough to get me (quietly) boohooing - it really showed a pained boy's regret at his coldness & love for his brother; even now I'm going to blinking some at the recollection. This R. Wilson, whose misspelled 1st name (along with an easier on the eyes S. W. Scott whose career I recently read had somehow begun circling the drain) grates my senses, has unfortunately too little to do but makes the most of it - banishing his The Office character to the dustbin it deserves - & we can hope he takes on more roles suited to the post-bar-fight gnarly visage here; no Terminator surely, but more than capable of being suddenly scary after 1st appearing the opposite. (His scripted reference to a pickup truck as a "car" is incredibly the 4th straight such idiocy in randomly selected features in "streaming" mode, which wants immediate cessation!) The poor sick mother herself turning coldly protective was a welcome bit of "Oh!" startlement that hadn't been expected, & the ... "ambiguous" closing which leaves the viewer only to speculate What Happened Next is something many a more established/better funded slice of cinema have failed to do as effectively. The bleakness of its landscape (which this site information revealed to be Louisville), amplified by the pollution spewing smokestacks, itself portrays a certain inevitability of fate that even the moneyed set of that town cannot dodge; their height along with the crap they vomit out gleefully & grimly ensures that. And, hardly likely to be of note to a great many viewers, something so should-be simple as a real phone number (on the work *pickup truck* at the house jobsite), provides an aspect of "realness" that no piles of "555-019x" - the last 4 very weirdly having become rote demonstrations - can equal. So despite its lesser aspects, the elements of creativity in this production - starting with the title, which the substitution of only the 1st letter recalled a hilarious line from The Jetsons (1962) - stand out to make it a standout among its filmed brethren & sistren. To this Very Day, for just 1 example, I still have not seen more than the 1st 15 minutes of Bored Of The Rings #1, its derivations from the peerless source material (along with the other 5 cinematic crimes against Tolkien) flatly intolerable to endure. "Not this one!' which the alleged "leaders" of that guns-mad corrupt town would do well to heed its messages.

I call this an absolutely 1st-rate production for several reasons. Firstly it's a ... "refreshing" change from the beaten-past-death accountings of them Five Families up the road a (happily) fair distance up the road from Washington, which knew nothing of the kinds of mob activities that held that city, Philadelphia, Atlantic City, Boston, Cleveland & Chicago in such ruinous horrible clutches (other places that might What About Us? Protest their exclusion from that blood bucket list, I do not know of, & those half-dozen rotten eggs are plenty by themselves). Although the searing Family Secrets legal tumult has been covered before - from the viewpoint of the brave Frank Calabrese Jr. - this story of D. R. Seifert whose ghastly murder contributed thereto in such a significant way is complete news to me. And the details of the case are at turns astonishing, horrifying, enlightening, amazing, gripping, occasionally even humorous - &, in the end of its long bumpy road, triumphantly victorious for One Man's Family. "Too much to list" definitely applies here, along with "it has to be seen to be believed," but the quality of its period-piece reenactments make themselves known straight out the gate. I actually experienced an "Ooh!" of delight when, after the date of the soulless crime was given (9/27/74), a red/black perfect '73-'74 Ford LTD coupe rolled into view. I was hooked right then & there, which the historical revelations that unfolded afterwards kept me totally riveted. Along with what the widow & sons told of their hellish ordeal & aftermath, the non-family interviewees - even, for an all too rare mercy, les "journalistes" contingent who astoundingly did not flounder around uselessly invoking "U No* in their statements - conducted themselves in what should be a textbook How To fashion that did not scrape my nerves even once. (In the catalogue of crime documentaries I've seen since my Forensic Files intro 27 years ago, there may be a standout among that crowd Here & There As It Might Be, but never before an entire ensemble managed not to talk stupid at some point or other. I give em all Nuff Respect for their presentations.)

Still, as can be only expected, this singular exposition is not "flawless," though only 1 technical detail comes up short, in 2 ways - the family car was a station wagon, & the portrayal of an actual 4-door '73-'74 LTD not only by a coupe version, but which was a '75-'78 model (similar body but "refreshed" front & radically different taillight assembly easily give that away), a photo of the original superimposed in a "fade" sequence over the pretender. Also there is a puzzling family omission, which is never addressed: the Seiferts' daughter gets only the most minimal early reference, but from the time of the killing right up to the (way late) deliverance of Due Justice, there is not a single mention made of her, even by her pistol-packin mama, whose bravery in the face of mob danger & on the witness stand, and composure while relating the details of her family's darkest hours & beyond, rehabilitated my view of her name - "You go, Miss Emma!" says me admiringly at certain points, without a trace of the "blehh" that hitherto I had thus responded on hearing the (beforehand) rather old-fashioned, no musical name. "Not anymore!" in the simple yet devastating words of Commander Cain (Battlestar Galactica, 1979). To have seen this coincidentally on the '23 version of Mother's Day lends if possible a greater appreciation for her strength confronted with, as if her husband being wiped out isn't bad enough, witnessing along with 1 of their sons the actual awful crime. So what about the girl even then? "Nothing!" is said of her at all! In the 33-year interval before karmic justice slammed down on the exact anniversary of their beyond-comprehensible loss, & after their truly "glorious!" legal victory? Zip. Zilch. "Nuttin Honey!" from her mother & brothers even to just say she declined to participate in the production, let alone any mention of how she coped with such a devastating ruin to their lives. I still rate it The Very Highest in despite of this glaring odd exclusion, but it is yet a significant disappointment.

Lastly, though he lived past Danny only the standard timespan of a baby cooking in the oven - 9 months, to 6/19/75 - there also is no mention of Sam Giancana, who ruled that there Outfit for nearly 10 years (8 years later came the Seifert murder). The end of his reign overlapped with the beginnings of Daniel Seifert's (legit) business rise, so for a mobster of that level of importance to be not mentioned just once - even to say something like "Giancana had just retired when Danny started out" - is to me both strangely & hugely disrespectful. Certainly like to know how the decisions to leave out such clearly important information came about (Most Curious that in a written article I found, there was (a single!) mention of the daughter, her age & where she & her brother were when the hit came down - & again, *nothing* else.), but the end results are what they be, & "so it goes." Best wishes to them all, the worst such to all involved, & may a "tough" man who wanted only to do right by his family, & prosper as a result, now R. E. I. P.

Having just concluded a little mega marathon of 2 Wars (Neighborhood & Road), I have found both of these series to be enlightening, informative - & frightening. I even had occasion to get misty-eyed over the proceedings, such as the kitten rescued from being flattened before his now-mommy could save.him. The non-hysterical narrator is quite capable but the narrative writing - not so much. In 1 especially eyerolling example of the spots of sloppiness contained therein (Lit Joyride, labeled S1 E15 12/21/22), the viewers are mistreated to the info that a lunatic on the road in Jersey is endangering lives on "Interstate I-95" when instead, as both 1 of them colorful road signs & the cam driver following the fool & reporting to 9-1-1, the otherwise bucolic stretch of motorway is actually I-ONE-95. Those scripts are in *desperate* need of (more?) editing, such was part of my job for 30 years that I know it when I hear/see it (an onscreen flash of "BALTIMORE, MA" ((corrected later when that clip was featured in a compilation episode) is emblematic of the stupid goofs that plague these productions), else I'd rate it higher. But informing the public of not only such potential dangers but showing why we need to have cameras covering the front/back/sides & that little old interior ("oh, behave!" in such cases). I wish for most - the dumb (cl)ucks that cause these problems do not count - the safest of journeys, the ability to help others when needed (me & my sister were presented with that terrifying scenario only last week), & "fare you well wherever you fare!"

The news of himself having gotten away was as much a letdown as the ascension of that "Caan" individual all too soon ago, though they both lived long & left a legacy of filmwork which others - the 1 which shall remain nameless here but managed to "act" its way into the nation's highest office, there to do incalculable damage that's rippled for 4 decades - can/could only dream of attaining. This little hunk of tv crime documentary is a good example. While Paul Sorvino's indelible impression in Goodfellas (1990) will carry down through the cinematic ages, his voiceover work here should be studied as a How To guide for (unfortunately all too) many people who sit/stand in front of a mike & proceed to horrify audiences' ears with nails-on-a-blackboard voices & line deliveries that are as even as a sunkissed record album. (That, save only Lester Holt, every other tv news babbling head - especially "in the field" - adds Hysterical Hannah physical exaggerations to their onscreen appearances is why I confine myself to reading articles.) I am even now revisiting this series on a stree-ming marathon - the segment on that penal paradise Parchman Farm is now running - marveling yet again (& saddened anew by the loss) at his utterly composed speaking, in that singular voice, with rarely misplaced syllabic/word stresses. Thankfully the writing - sure as in the Goofs there's a few stumbles, but nobody/thing is perfect - provides enlightening information, which blended with Paul Sorvino's narration makes for an absorbing hour in this kind of televised "history class." I can only wonder why it didn't last longer - certainly not for lack of subject matter; it was only by seeing the backstory on Fort Leavenworth that I discovered the too-little-known fiction about that Birdman de Alcatraz, which he actually wasn't - but, like the legend's total filmography which itself isn't filling enough, we fans must needs apply my longtime philosophy of "some beats none" & appreciate what there are of these proceedings. Even now the 1 scene out of Goodfellas that I never forget - when Henry Hill came begging for money & Paul Cicero took the time from his cooking to both hand over a (small) bundle of money & to admonish Henry, voice quivering, body quaking & eyes seething, that that was all he was gonna get & don't come back No Mo - comes to me. Paul Sorvino "lived inside" the roles he played whatever they were, imbuing them with old-school realism that swept the audience up & took them along for the ride. We don't get to see him in these The Big House expostulations, but the effect of his voice is, as Bob Seger said once, Still The Same - we are drawn inside these myriad worlds thereby, & for those so inclined, hopefully deterred from doing things that actually land them there. So they will ever remain, a handful of instructive hours both aiming a gleam into some dark corners of the past & present, & a warning/wakeup call to the shortsighted & ignorant that yet exist (& still are to come) that they had better straighten out & do (a whole lot) better. Big Paulie will be now eternally watching. M. H. R. E. I. P.

I just knew that when this can't miss crew - once that vomitable "trudy" was out the way for good - took a (down)turn into nightrider territory it would keep right on going. Just *why* this miserable direction was taken I still don't know, but whoever's to blame deserves the coals - as in raked over - for it. I don't have enough barely polite words (lots that ain't though) to express my outraged disgust at the idiotic bucket of undercooked backwards mega racist crap this segment of H&L devolved into; its pathetically overblown scenarios are as fresh as a dead daisy, along with the grimly executed acting therein. Were (m)any of the whites in S3 here somehow encouraged to channel their ancestral stupidity in portraying these caricatures of not old school enough prejudice? (Details of same I leave to the viewer to assess & reflect on.) Only 1 "female" individual portrayal was sufficiently loathsome - like the delicate fragrance of a cigarette smoked bar - to invoke any aspect of real menace. Given, however, the nonstop putridity of the town's atmosphere, we actually can be grateful of that; it would be absolutely intolerable to sit through several hours of a clutch of people like *her* farting out that level of hatred & ignorance like a barn full of upset cows. Luckily even having to include the trudy ones, the 1st 2 seasons of the misadventures of Hap & Leonard have more than enough twists to make Utz pretzels jealous, bracing sociocultural commentary that both pains & inspires while not dragging the viewers through noxious decades older mud & a raft of characters we both love - & love to hate - that will overshadow the tiresome unnecessarily violent & anger-inducing letdown of its unfitting buzzard song ending.

Having just endured a recording of this terrible case & not found anymore recent info from the victim's name search other than the outrage of "bond granted" before coming here to drop my bomb on the proceedings, thanks to the original reviewer for an unlikely but very nice Christmas gift of the update that, however it happened, this unhinged entity no longer slimes among the living (one other from this region, in the horrifying "Buried Secrets" (2/14/19), is overdue to join it). The all too often unfair "justice system" (especially when applied to, on whichever side, people of non-white coloring) ingrained into the fabric of Terran humans in their existence on this planet, there are those, including the surviving bereaved in such terrible situations, who cry No Fair when the sh(odd)y perpetrators of the lowest of the worst crime to living kind miss out on clunking their way through the legal formalities. This despite in all too many cases them being spared the horrendous trauma of knowing the specifics of said crime(s) by the things responsible being escorted Down Below hitherto, by whatever means - such avoidance by way of the too frequently sickeningly inadequate penalties resulting from "bargains" that disfavor the criminals is another matter.

We have only to recall the countless times the putrescent beings wrapped in human skin get later set loose on appeal of their just punishments, not on an "innocence" tip but instead after too lengthy appeals by a cadre of no-rent ambulance chasers which fraternal-twin orifices are hemorrhaging blood from gnawing barrel bottoms to shredded splinters desperately searching for the remotest "technicalities" by which they can flamboozle soft brained appeals courts. Then what happens to those who thought they & their lost loved ones had got "justice," sadly often after time intervals in which relatives & friends didn't live to see it, when that blows up in their faces not only with the dread phrase "overturned on (some) technicality" but subsequently either a reduced sentence - bad enough - or worse, actually being freed? They're left devastated anew, that's what, as unfair as the crimes themselves. So "nay nay!" sez me to those objecting to the not-enough news that some wretched objects that unlawfully take actual people's lives get sent on their way southbound a lot sooner than the courts can provide - either behind bars or in the increasingly infrequently applied chair itself. That after all takes too long to get carried out, as recently the Monster of Modesto with its 2 victims (Lacie Rocha & her unborn baby) slipped the noose, still breathing, & the Slimebag of Sarasota (Carlie Brucia) which was paused but bit the dust while still lined up for the chamber, make abundantly clear. So whether by "natural causes" visited on the most unnatural, a DIT (themselves) tactic or outside agency, i.e. "prison associate" like a hideous thing called "dahmer," those like this disturbed dummy, that was stated to have had "no priors" before it hit rock bottom with 1 swing, which fail to run the twisted course to a legal guilty verdict should not be missed thereby. I sure wouldn't. May he & all other such unjust victims rest ever in peace, & those they left behind know the same somehow, sometime - the sooner the better.

I've just seen a 10th episode in this docuseries, which despite the near-innumerable repetitions of "classic" serial killers & the various horrors depicted in Snapped & Forensic Files and such since these kinds of programs 1st came to my attention 25 years ago, has managed to plumb new depths in exposing the vilest of the sickest that slime the Earth. There are a smattering of "familiar" cases (a few I've actually surmised just from the sat program guide synopses, which are none too detailed), but these are mostly not, which ramps up the nightmare factor. It's an even deeper plunge into the lowest depths of Hell than the "standard" true-confessions programs e.g. The Murder Tapes, because this 1 is focused entirely on the rotted-out husks of "people" wrapped in humanoid hides of which, repellent as they are, it would do well for more of the populace to be aware. To have knowledge of such "signs" as are on display here in this Rotters' Row can help prevent more victims than there already have been - which is *too* many. Except for, also "too many," onscreen screwups on the part of these overpaid people labeled "transcribers" whose erroneous output gives the impression they're operating with wax-filled ears, I find this series to be of very good quality. The onscreen info sitting in for a narrator is clearly presented & concise, the articulate interviewees convey their observations with a welcome minimum of body English (1 evidently lefthanded male "doctor" though keeps straying from the steady path) & nonexistent "Yew No" littered vocal hysterics - please let them not ever engage that over-hyperactive MW Phelps cretin! The background score, while featuring a few "leftover" elements, & *emphatic" sound effects do not overwhelm the dialogue - though I expect many could wish it did. Well, so mega unfortunately, there's no scarcity of incidents which could use an airing to a larger audience, so I hope that for the interests of enlightening people on an important subject, this here historically attention deficit disordered IDiot channel doesn't capriciously discontinue this series. They have more than enough such stupidity e.g. Over My Dead Body as it is; (much) less dateline/2020/48 hours & that excruciating cow P. Zahn & more of this kind of "better" production, & their now thankfully dropped self promo of being the "#1 true crime network" will actually have some truth to it.