Thursday 16 August 2012

Episode Analysis - S1 E20 Like A Motherless Child

Like a Motherless Child (17 Mar. 1961)


Writers: Howard Rodman (teleplay); Betty Andrews (story)
Director: David Lowell Rich
Director of Photography: Jack A. Marta
(Details from http://www.imdb.com - click on the episode title above for more cast and crew)


Screencaps are from the Infinity edition of the series, so they're cropped into widescreen, but I think the quality is better than the Shout Factory. Why couldn't Shout Factory have used the same masters as Infinity? Surely they could have helped them out?




Beautiful opening shots. The orphan walking down the highway (is highway a technical term in the US, or just a road?). One day I should find out who’s responsible for these - I mean, Silliphant wrote scripts, some of the scripts, I assume he didn’t chose these shots too.

Checking on IMDB, Jack A. Marta was the director of photography for this episode, and 88 other Route 66 episodes.





Girls on the bus do girl things. I love the contrast between these girls and Hannah Ellis. Perhaps one day they will become her.




Apparently Sylvia Sidney (playing Hannah) had the “the saddest eyes in Hollywood”. She really does have a proper haunted look. And Jake Hunter (Jack Weston) is a really unpleasant piece of work. It doesn’t help that he reminds me strongly of Justin Fletcher, who is a great British children’s tv entertainer. So he’s a bit like a creepy clown…




Oh, beauty…




As you’d expect, Tod and Buz pick up the orphan who’s hitchhiking. Nowadays they wouldn’t touch him with a bargepole, I think.




‘Jake Hunter’s Girls’. Shudder. This guy is a creep.




Happy times. Don’t you think Buz should have a kid?




Driving Tod. I’m not sure if there’s context to this apart from Tod being pretty behind the wheel.



More Buz smiles, just for the hell of it.




And now we find out the kid’s an orphan, and a whole can of worms is opened. Buz is looking at himself. He can’t distance himself in the slightest. Suddenly he’s seeing everything from the perspective of a hurt ten year old boy.




Oh boy, this is where it all blows up… Buz’s face when Tod tells him he’s taking the kid back to the orphanage. It’s a personal betrayal. It’s not about the kid, it’s about Buz.




I mean, really Tod’s right. You can’t leave a 10 year old wandering the highway. Buz can’t see past his own personal trauma. If this had been another episode they would have followed the kid instead of Buz, and seen that he was all right.




Buz’s inability to act is interesting. He doesn’t chase the boy. He doesn’t stop Tod either. Is he paralysed by his feelings, or does he know deep down that Tod is right? He’s a child in this episode. Tod is the grown-up and he lets him make the decisions. We're back to that interesting dynamic again where we're not sure who's in charge.




Buz is looking into a mirror again…




…and when he looks at the State Orphanage he’s looking at his own childhood. How terrible must it have been to leave such scars? Not abuse, I imagine, but just a chilling lack of care.




Tod the grown-up tries to convince Buz that he is right.




Buz looks sick with apprehension at the place. Poor thing.




So it almost comes to blows as Tod carries the kid in. But it doesn’t. Buz is helpless and angry. He could probably make Tod let go of the kid, but he doesn’t.




Nice acting. This quiet, personal moment of grief for the boy and for himself.




Aww, Buz… Can I hug him now?



So in his helpless anger Buz unstraps the luggage and takes his suitcase. He starts to walk off, thinks again, comes back and writes a note that he leaves in the steering wheel. Does he write it out of consideration for Tod or because he feels he has to get his point across somehow? All this is about lack of control, being a child. He can't make Tod understand how he feels so he runs away just like the orphan did. (I have an urge to write a story about little-Buz running away from his orphanage now!)




Buz writes out his note...





...and sticks it in the steering wheel. You can actually see he's signed it 'Buz Murdock.' Hard to tell about the rest of the writing. I'm not sure it's what Tod reads out, but knowing GM and his desire for realism I'm sure it's something relevant to the story! (I think it says 'good bye' at the end, and there seems to be a 'don't' in there too.)



'I don't know if I'm right, but I couldn't do it. I don't want to be around a guy who could. Buz Murdock.' We don't necessarily need to hear Tod read the note aloud. We could have been left imagining what Buz said. But it's interesting that we do. The confirmation that Buz knows his views are too mixed up with his personal experience.




Tod throws his own case into the car. He's angry.




And drives off with the luggage strap flapping on the ground.




Girls on the tour bus. This is all about families and lives gone astray. Hannah and Jake are the bizarre 'parents' of this busload of dancers.




Jake is like Mr Tumble gone bad. If you aren’t British and don’t have small children you’ll have no idea what I’m talking about. But seriously, this guy is an evil sh*t.




Jake slaps one of the girls for saying he smells. Nice guy.




And so we come back to the start. Buz is the orphan thumbing a lift on the highway. I love Route 66 for this. We knew all along that he was the orphan and the boy was him, and here he is in exactly the same position, alone and angry and running away, thumbing a lift to get away from it all.




Buz coming in to the market to look for work. Can I hug him now?




You can tell he’s not one of them because he’s not wearing a Stetson. There’s a gorgeous moment when the guy hiring asks if he’s any good at figures. He starts to say he has a buddy who is, then remembers. Aww.



Looking for Alley Golden (what a name!!). I love his acting all through this. He looks nervous and alone but pushing through it. It’s very subtle.




And here’s Alley – aka Ben Johnson. I love this guy since seeing him in Fort Defiance with Peter Graves. Excellent horse rider and an all round nice guy by all accounts. He plays a real b*stard in the Season Two episode A Long Piece Of Mischief, though.




More Ben Johnson. He’s ten years older than he was in Fort Defiance.




Buz’s butt (I don’t use that word, not being American, but I can’t think of a better one, and hey, it alliterates) sticking out of his tiny, tiny caravan.




He bumps into Hannah, the child looking for a mother and the mother looking for a child.




She offers to sew his button on. She tells him to chew on the bread because her grandmother said, ‘If you sew up something and somebody’s wearing it you sew up their brains too – unless they’re chewing something.’ This is awkward and endearing all at once. Buz isn’t quite sure what to make of it.




Sewing on his button. He tells her how ‘my folks have been dead for as long as I can remember.’ (Does this contradict the ‘left on a doorstep in New York’ story or is it just a natural way of phrasing how he is an orphan without going into long stories?)

He tells the story of how when something needed mending at the orphanage it was taken at night and fixed and returned by morning. ‘For all you knew it could have been done by elves or something.’ This is more poignant for the fairy-tale aspect of it. It could have been done by elves – but you know that it was done by the impersonal system in which he lived.





Jake needles Hannah (Hannah the childless woman of the Bible – I wonder if the name is deliberate? Our Hannah will have no intervention from God) about Buz, pointing out her own kid would be about his age now. He really is a manipulative piece of work.





I like the inside of this caravan. I have a nostalgia for caravans.

Hannah is drinking coffee. She’s sad and mixed up but reasonably together. Jake slips the bottle of whiskey out of his coat and puts in on the table because he knows she is an alcoholic and if he can get her to drink he can control her. Evil, evil, evil.





That use of reflections again. The two faced tempter with the whiskey in his hand.




You can see the anxiety and the temptation in her face.




And it worked. Here she is, so drunk she can’t lock her caravan door. She’s transformed into another person, the cigarette hanging out of her mouth, the furs and jewellery, presumably with the stench of alcohol on her breath.



This is where Tod comes in, looking for Buz. His first introduction to Hannah is the sleazy drunk, not the bereaved mother, echoing the mirror theme we’ve seen with Jake. This is a good setting for his opinion of her – diametrically opposed to Buz’s sympathy. Buz wants to protect her. Tod wants to protect Buz.



Beautiful filming again. The shadows and her almost-silhouette. She looks far more glamorous than the reality that we’ve just been exposed to by the caravan.




Buz making his bed in his tiny caravan. Is it deliberate that she has a great homely space and he has a little child’s den with no more than the bare necessities?




Tod’s apprehension at his reunion with Buz…



…and Buz’s mixed feelings at seeing Tod. I mean, he’s angry with him, but he must also have a sliver of relief that Tod has come after him. He’s not all alone in the world. His ‘special kind of loneliness’ at being an orphan is alleviated by the fact that he has such a good friend.




I get the feeling Buz is a little embarrassed at the cheapness of his quarters. He offers for Tod to stay – God knows where he’d sleep? Is he offering because of the conventions of friendship or is he offering an olive branch? (Oh, I should mention – I love the toggles on Tod’s coat!! There were a lot of toggles round as I grew up. Where have they all gone?)




Buz says, ‘Friendship. It’s not like the wonderful one horse shay. It doesn't fall apart all at once.’ This line sounds tremendously sad as well as hopeful for some reason. I suppose this translates as he’s had time to think and calm down a little.




Coffee. Echoing Buz’s offer of coffee from Hannah, but everything in his caravan is smaller and tattier. I love these two relationships, this odd triangle, going on next to each other.








The awkwardness of their meeting. Buz’s offer for Tod to stay. Tod asks if Buz wants to talk about ‘the boy.’ You wonder which boy – the orphan on the road or the boy that Buz was? Buz still feels the same. The awkwardness is palpable.

‘Is it worth a friendship?’ Tod asks.

‘It’s a matter of principle, you know?’ Buz replies.

Tod says, ‘Yeah. Yeah, it’s a matter of principle all right.’

And there they leave it, still uncertain.





Tod driving to work alone. This doesn’t look right.




Close up thoughtfulness.






And Buz is having breakfast alone in his little caravan when Tod turns up and honks his horn. The tin and the milk carton on the table. I get the feeling that Buz is messier than Tod. Tod would have tidied those away. Somehow they emphasise Buz’s loneliness.

Thank God Tod is persistent. Buz seems to feel a mixture of consternation and gratitude for this.





Tod offers Buz a lift.




On a breeze block outside Buz finds an artificial plant left by Hannah.

‘It’s not what you think. She’s old enough to be my mother,’ Buz tells Tod. Meaningful words there…





You can tell that he’s touched by the gift.




Buz goes to thank Hannah but there’s no answer.




You can see Tod’s concern as soon as he realises who ‘the lady next door’ is. All he’s seen of her is a drunk mess. He worries about Buz as a friend, but in a way also as a naïve child. Although Buz has been exposed to more in the world than Tod, there is an endearing innocence about him.




The awkwardness is still there, but they drive off together. Tod won’t tell Buz why he seems worried about Buz’s friendship with Hannah.




Buz on the fence :-)






And Tod at the auction writing down the sales. He looks a little bewildered by it all but he keeps up and does a good job.





Tod’s under pressure but you get the feeling he’s enjoying it. I love this period view of a cattle market.





At the canteen. Buz is eating with Alley. More feeling of a strained friendship that’s still there as Buz offers Tod his place and Tod elects to wait.




In conversation Alley talks about Jake Hunter’s girls and Tod realises that this is where Hannah is working and you can see the concern building. Buz has no idea. Buz asks Tod if he’ll drive him in to Reno. I like the way even though they’re having troubles, Buz still relies on Tod to drive him around.





So Buz buys real flowers for Hannah – something alive for her to nurture. It’s a sweet gesture and you can see his anticipation of the pleasure of giving her the gift.




Nice shot of the town. It’s nice that Buz goes off to the den of gambling and fast women to buy flowers for a lonely woman.




Buz bringing the flowers back to the car.




It’s not what he expects. The caravan is dark and shady this time. Hannah is dressed loosely in a dressing gown and is confused and disconcerted by Buz’s gift.





‘It’ll die you know,’ Hannah says of the plant.

She seems spaced out and she’s shaking so much that she can’t hold the coffee cup she’s getting for Buz. She starts to tell Buz about her son, who would be able Buz’s age. She says she last saw him when he was six.





Buz is deeply concerned. She keeps reaching out for the cupboard and pulling back.





‘Loneliness comes over you like drowning waves,’ she says.

She vacillates between sadness and anger and finally gets the bottle out of the cupboard. Buz doesn’t know what to think. She draws a thin façade of decency over it all by asking him to share a drink because she doesn’t like to drink alone, but she knocks back hers in one while he takes a sip.






She’s repeating herself, talking about her son again, but this time she says the last time she saw him he was two hours old. It’s hard to know what the real story is, it’s so deeply buried in her fantasies and horror. Was her child taken? Did she give him up because of social stigma? Did she give him up willingly?




She asks him to leave, he shows his willingness to stay and help. When she starts to cry ‘poor baby,’ it’s hard to tell if she’s talking about her baby or Buz, or both of them together.




She completely breaks down, sobbing over how she just ‘didn’t want to be bothered’ with a baby. Suddenly she’s clutching Buz in her arms and crying ‘poor baby,’ and he doesn’t know how to react. I love his awkwardness here.




Buz has prepared her a wholesome dinner. This is so sweet of him. I like to think that Hannah is more what he sees in her than Tod. She has hope for redemption, if only someone would help her.





Tod sees and tries to tell Buz that Hannah is not home, but he can’t bring himself to tell him about where she is. The issue of the orphan comes up again. Oh, things are so tangled!




Buz starts to show some worry when Hannah doesn’t open the door. What does Tod know that he doesn’t?




‘I want a favour, Buz,’ Tod says. ‘One favour. Because no matter how mad two friends get at each other there has to be something left of the friendship. One favour has to be left anyway.’




So Buz agrees to go with Tod, no questions asked. There is something left of their friendship after all. But this is a cruel move on Tod’s part. Perhaps it’s the only move he can make. Perhaps it’s as cruel and as necessary as taking the orphan back to the asylum. He must think it’s the only way to make Buz understand all that Hannah is – but I’m not sure that Tod understands all that Hannah is.





Of course Buz doesn’t recognise her from behind.

‘Buy you a drink, lady?’ Tod asks to make her turn around.





She falters, but is remarkably self-composed. She’s obviously so drunk she’s sober. ‘Don’t pity me,’ she says, and chucks Buz on the chin in something that’s a bizarre blend of coquette and mother. Buz smiles as she walks away. Poor Buz.




Tod waits for Buz’s reaction.




Buz’s reaction is ‘Outside. Outside.’





This is where things really flare up.

‘You couldn’t tell me what it was all about, could you?’ Buz rages. ‘You think I care what she does? Okay, so she leads a hard life and maybe she’s a front for a shill or a crap table. So what?’

‘Oh, you’re such a nice guy,’ Tod says sarcastically. ‘You’re going to be so big about it.’

‘You couldn’t tell me what it was, could you?’ Buz accuses him. ‘You had to bring me face to face with her and make her ashamed.’


Yes, Tod. Why did you do that?




‘And I’ll tell you one more thing,’ Buz says furiously. ‘I’m gonna go in there tomorrow and I’m gonna apologise to her, and if she needs my help, I’m going to give it to her.’

‘You’re gonna help her?’ Tod asks witheringly.

‘That’s right.’

‘How? You going to buy her a little house in the country someplace and then introduce her to all your fancy country club friends? You’re gonna help her. You’ve got enough trouble helping yourself. You’re a sentimental slob and you go all soft inside, and you think that’s nice and kind.’

And that’s when Buz tries to hit him. I love this speech from Tod. It brings out some of the real tensions between them, Tod of the privileged upbringing, strangely more realistic and tougher than street-kid Buz. I love this.






So, the fight scene. The stunt guys are a little too choreographed and balletic. It would have been nice to see George and Marty do it. But Tod and Buz really needed this. It’s the relief of the tension we’ve all been waiting for.  It probably makes their relationship stronger. They can get over such deep anger and carry on together afterwards.




There’s something about the pace of this fight. It’s very slow and quiet. Intimate. It reminds me of the naked wresting scene in Women in Love.





The point where they freeze. Buz has his fists together in a knot, ready to smash Tod’s face. Tod is ready to defend himself. There’s real fear in Tod’s face at first, but as the seconds pass they realise that they have worked out the intensity of the anger. Buz lowers his fists and Tod relaxes.





‘All right?’ Buz asks tentatively.

‘All right?’ Tod replies with the same questioning tone.

‘All right,’ Buz says, a definite now.

‘All right,’ Tod nods.

‘That was a crazy fight,’ Buz says.

‘Come on,’ Tod says, still with a tone of query. ‘I’ll drive you to your trailer.’

Buz nods. They are exhausted and dirty and they go back together. Sometimes the best friendships need to come this close to the edge.





The morning after. (Yes, I would like to imagine the steamy make-up sex that went on, but this is supposed to be a serious analysis.) I suppose really Tod dropped Buz off and went back to his own place – or they stayed up half the night drinking coffee and talking, or they just dropped into bed and slept. It’s nice to see them reinstating Buz’s suitcase beside Tod’s on the luggage rack. As usual, Buz steps back and lets Tod do the honours.




Buz returns the fake plant.

‘Some things I guess you just have to leave behind,’ he tells Tod.

I think it would be nice if he kept it, but then there wouldn’t be the excuse for him to knock on her door. I’d like to imagine an episode where they stay and untangle Hannah’s life for her.





When he knocks on her door there’s no answer. Perhaps it’s best that they don’t have to face each other.




So he puts the plant with the rest of them in a little row. These are her children, perhaps. She is there, watching through the curtain.




So Tod and Buz drive away, together.





Jake is in the caravan with Hannah. The evil cancer in her life.

‘I wouldn’t let you drink through this one alone,’ he says. ‘I don’t like to think of myself this way, but, er, I’m only ninety eight percent louse. Two more lousy percent and I’d have it made.’

She goes to watch them drive away and the sun streams in on her, but then Jake comes and pours her another drink, drawing her back into the darkness. This is such a sad ending as far as she is concerned.







2 comments:

  1. This was such a insightful analysis. Enjoyed it tremendously save the butt-plug part.

    ReplyDelete