Episode Analysis - S2 E12 ...And The Cat Jumped Over The Moon

...And the Cat Jumped Over the Moon (15 Dec. 1961)


Writers: Stirling Silliphant (teleplay); Frank L. Moss (story)
Director: Elliot Silverstein
Director of Photography: Irving Lippman
(Details from http://www.imdb.com - click on the episode title above for more cast and crew)


This episode has all the elements of a great one – the award-winning Martin Sheen, the juxtaposition of Buz’s hip and wayward early life with Tod’s more conventional upbringing, glimpses into Buz’s past and into the gang culture of Chicago and the teens unrest of the fifties and sixties. It has beautiful filming and a pretty strong storyline. But for some reason it doesn’t grab me like some of the others, and I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s just a personal feeling. It’s well worth watching for all the above reasons.

Screencaps are from the Infinity dvd release of the series.

Lots of over the top laughter at breakfast, where Tod and Buz are staying with Buz’s old social worker Chuck Briner (Milt Kamen).

Buz and Tod have both lost it completely.

Aside from the fact that I can’t imagine being awake enough at breakfast to get hysterical with laughter, I rather love this scene. I love it with friends when you get to the point when you just can’t stop laughing. I have to wonder whether they’re good at acting it or if they’re really cracking up. I love the way Buz’s voice is almost incoherent, and Tod has that evil cackle he gets in The Thin White Line. We get to hear fun reminiscences about Buz’s life in Hell’s Kitchen. Funny how we find out so much more about the orphan Buz’s life than we do about Tod’s.

There’s a buzz at the door. Not a Buz. A buzz. And it’s Susan Silo as Marva. She also played an Italian girl in The Man From U.N.C.L.E.’s The Children’s Day Affair. She’s looking all tense and suspicious and Tod and Buz don’t know whether to hit on her or comfort her. It’s obvious the atmosphere has changed, as Chuck rushes to get ready to go out and leaves her with them.

Buz offers her breakfast, but she walks away without speaking.

‘It is a small world,’ Tod jokes. ‘Even in Philadelphia they've heard what you can do to a coffee bean.’

Chuck leaves, asking Tod and Buz to look after the girl. All very suspicious.

On the roof and in the street below, people are flashing signals as Chuck approaches. The gang world is like another world. Flashing lights like uncover agents. They’re children playing, but playing in a kind of Lord of the Flies, deadly serious way.

Chuck meets a kid outside, Eddie, who is obviously tough and streetwise just by the way he blows cigarette smoke out of his mouth. We get to see the way Chuck deals with kids as he deals with this one. He tries to be one of them just enough to get through to them, but not enough to patronise them. He’s good at it.

‘Ah, grow up, Eddie,’ he tells the kid. ‘You’re trying to write your name in the sky, you can’t even go upstairs with this gang. Calling yourselves The Missiles. They’ve never got one of you off the pad yet. Look around, Eddie. Where’s the magic beanstalk? Packy. He’s not a giant killer. You gotta climb the hard way, the way the rest of us do. By your fingernails, by your bootstraps, by your guts.’

This is a nice speech. It neatly sums up what’s going on, what Chuck is trying to do, the kind of kids he’s dealing with.

You can see the kind of place he’s dealing with in the state of the building as he waits for the lift. There’s a lot said in these little scenes.

This is what I like about Route 66. There’s a real child in that pram, not a dummy. All the way up in the lift, with the reactions between the women who enter and the young lads, you can see the tension and trouble in the neighbourhood.

Wow, that’s a good view from the top of the building.

We get the cool kids music as we see the gang. A kind of laid back 50s jazz. I feel like there should be fingers clicking. They own the world, up here. They’re above it all.

Packy is played by Martin Sheen, being exceptionally creepy and unpleasant with his nasal voice and his weird laugh and his hair all slicked forward.

So we gather there’s a ‘five hand hit’ planned for tonight, and Chuck is here to stop them.

‘Polaris – you stick, we listen. On?’ Packy challenges him. So Chuck takes the challenge – a kind of follow-my-leader of daredevil stunts along the edge of the building.

The gang all move as one, as if they’re in a musical. I haven’t watched West Side Story, but I get very West Side Story feelings from this.

So they begin their strange rooftop dance. There’s something so very primal in this. It’s all a ritual. Stirling Silliphant (teleplay), Frank L. Moss (story), and Elliot Silverstein (director) paint this whole thing like some kind of exposition of human reactions – of the animal reactions that are in humans, caught by ritual and turned into a performance. Packy whoops like an animal. He treats it all with the confident instinct of an animal. Chuck is more civilised, more aware of the details rather than just of the stark contrast between life and death. He will over think this dance.

Oh my God, it’s a long way down…

I love the angles of the roof top and their jagged zig-zag lines against the straight up-and-down lines of the buildings behind. The drop off on the left and the flat roof on the right. Life and death divided by an angular wall.

The dance continues. How did they film this? I mean, at times it seems hard to believe that it’s anything but the actors balancing on a knife-edge. How did they do it without risking killing someone?

And of course Chuck eventually falls. He can’t beat Packy. You could see he was never going to make it. He didn’t have the cocksure confidence of these young lads who know they are immortal. It was his own fear that killed him. Their faces leaning over the edge of the building are like a troop of Gibraltar apes looking over a cliff.

Chuck is splatted on the street. His hat sails down gracefully after him.

‘Aw, man,’ Packy laments in his creepy way. ‘Didn’t ya know? Only the little birdie flies.’ He seems genuinely regretful, but not shocked or upset.

Back in the apartment that Chuck will never return to, Buz is going through records and can only find classical. I recognise the piece he puts on but I can’t remember the name. (EDIT: I think it’s Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, which is well known for good reason. This is also what’s playing in Buz and Chet’s room in Even Stones Have Eyes.) It perfectly fits the inevitable movement of events, as Marva speaks about Johnny, her boyfriend, and worries about what might have happened to Chuck.

I like the fabric on that settee. Looks a little like something from Trefriw Woollen Mills ;-) I’d love to see it in colour. I’m imagining a nice blend of reds and greens, or greens and yellows, but perhaps it’s nothing so nice.

Tod is all packed. Buz starts going through Chuck’s suitcase of old photos, leafing back through a life that he doesn’t know is ended. Chuck has guided hundreds of children through troubled lives. Buz is just one of the faces that ended up frozen in a photograph in that case.

This is supposed to be Buz in this picture. I don’t think we were supposed to pause it and take a screenshot, though. He says he’s holding a diploma, but I can’t see anyone holding anything. I wonder where these kids are now?

Buz reminisces about how Chuck got someone to take the picture, and how Buz lost his but Chuck still had his copy. That suitcase full of photos is the representation of everything good that Chuck has done. Each piece of paper is a child he helped.

Tod has that look on his face of someone who’s patiently listening to a life story which is more interesting to the person telling it.

Marva sees a police car draw up outside, and knows it must mean something bad.

Buz is canny enough to see that she’s scared of the police. She shuts herself in the bathroom and listens at the door when the police come in.

The lieutenant is obviously a little suspicious of these two young men who have been staying Briner’s flat all week and are just preparing to leave.

Tod and Buz’s reactions when the lieutenant tells them that Chuck is dead. Buz is thinking of Chuck. You can tell that Tod’s first concern is Buz. This is so sudden. The man walked out of his own kitchen a few hours ago, and he was fine. This is the way of death sometimes.

Typical Buz, after a moment of frozen cogitation he leaps into action, going to the bathroom to look for Marva – but she’s gone. The lieutenant listens to Buz’s description and decides she may be one of the gang. He’s going to take Tod and Buz down to look at a line-up of suspects.

The music is still playing softly on the record player. Buz flicks it off, and silence falls, the music cut off just like Chuck’s life has been.

Tod hands Buz his coat with a look of sympathy, touching his shoulder briefly. So often you feel that Tod is the guardian and Buz is the child, even though in many ways it’s the other way round.

In the police station the mothers of the kids they’ve got for the line up are all protesting over the situation. In earshot, officers are talking casually about how if someone pushed Briner, they’d ‘get the chair.’

Buz asks, ‘Notice it, Tod? Where are the fathers?’

People would have you believe that’s all a modern problem. Perhaps it’s always been a modern problem.

American flag. Always the American flag. What’s with having flags everywhere in America?

I love the way these line ups are done. It’s like a parody of a fashion show. Packy’s looking as creepy as ever. All the kids are properly cheeky and irreverent.

I feel like Tod is watching in eagerness to help, Buz is watching in the hope of identifying someone and killing them.

Packy is just as cocky as you’d expect him to be. It’s a great performance. And there’s some nice social commentary that comes out of his mouth.

‘First time I ever get caught, and the man says, ‘Now, Packy, you stay out of trouble, hear?’ Same old jazz all the time. But that man don’t tell me how. And, I mean, a growing boy’s got to have something to do, right? Can’t just hang around, you know.’

This is the view that the kids get. Nice photography here.

Packy tells the truth – that Briner fell. In his speech he speaks of how much he respected Briner for being someone who ‘stuck.’ He wasn’t a fake – he really wanted to help. You can see in Buz’s reaction that he understands this. He knows where Packy is coming from, and he also knows what Briner was like.

‘He tried to put me down in front of my own tribe,’ Packy says.

It’s all about animal reactions. It’s realistic how Packy respects Briner, but wouldn’t give up his position and do what Briner wanted him to do.

So it turns out a witness saw Briner fall. I don’t think Buz knows what to think. Briner wasn’t killed by Packy’s gang, but he died because of them.

Tod has to get Buz to go by tugging on his arm. I think Buz would stay and raise hell and probably get arrested without Tod to steady him. He knows now that Briner’s death was an accident, but that has left him without resolution. He needs something to be done.

Pretty car. Tod and Buz return to Briner’s apartment.

‘They ought to invent a new kinda spray, something that settles your affairs after you’re gone,’ Buz says blackly. ‘Spray it around a few times and everything disappears. The old shoes in the closet, the beer in the ice box. Settles everything, you know.’

When they get upstairs, Marva is there. She tries to run, but Buz grabs her.

He has a good tussle on the floor. I can imagine Maharis in the 56 Things I Dig article saying, ‘I dig getting down on the floor with girls. I dig fights that make you sweat. I dig everything about rolling on the carpet with a woman with loose hair and no make up.’ (I’m sorry, GM. I jest.)

Tod seems concerned. I don’t think he’s sure if Buz will stop short of hurting her – but he doesn’t interfere. Of course, we all know he does like watching Buz fight. It’s his thing.

Buz is being nice and – ahem – masterful as he pins her on the floor. Lucky Marva.

Marva starts wailing about Johnny and Buz tells her to knock it off. Tod knows the police think it’s all over and done with, but it’s not over for Buz. He threatens to hang Marva from the roof by her feet until she tells him what happened.

Marva starts to tell her Romeo and Juliet-esque tail of woe. She and Johnny are in love, but Johnny, who was the leader, has left the gang, so now she should belong to Packy. And wouldn’t we all love to belong to Packy? *shudder*


Buz is understandably sceptical of her woe.

Marva explains about the rules of the gang and how impossible it all is.

‘Johnny. Why do I have to love him?’ she wails.

She tells how they went away together just for one day, how they want to be married, and how Packy found out and decided to ‘make an example’ of Johnny.

Tod thinks the police can handle it. He doesn’t understand her world.

‘What could they do?’ she scoffs. ‘Put Johnny under glass?’

‘Stay with her, Tod,’ Buz says, getting up.

‘Now wait a minute, tiger,’ Tod replies (*squeal* I’m sorry. I squeal every time Tod calls Buz ‘tiger.’), ‘you’re not going to try to handle this alone?’

Buz intends to go and find Johnny. Tod urges him to listen, and Buz tells him, ‘If it’s good enough for Chuck to start, it’s good enough for us to finish. His way.’

And then he does a little hand thing and a look that make me melt because it’s adorable and silly all at once and cannot be properly described here.

Tod knows he’s out of his depth in the situation, but he’s got a lovely snugly cardigan on, so all is well with the world.

More West-Side-Story-feeling choreography in the way they move across the street as a pack, with the music in the background.

The gang have come to the outside of Chuck’s apartment. I love the architecture you get to see in this programme. Packy sends one of his gang member to buy roses. It’s fun watching how disconcerted the tough guy is at being sent to buy flowers.

And the scene shifts to a very similar shot of a building under construction. Nice symbology – Johnny building a new life, something different from those old tenements that the gang play around in and where Chuck lived.

I love the fact that these are all real places. Buz is really in a building being put up.

He finds Johnny. In a way, Johnny is on his way to becoming Buz. He’s climbing out of the gang world, getting a proper job, building his future.

He’s still got the cocky feeling of a gang member to him, though. He won’t listen to Buz – Buz is a stranger, outside of the group. He hasn’t fully made the transition from gang member to member of the general public.

Buz shows him the newspaper story about Chuck Briner. It’s fun reading this – the lead in paragraph about Briner’s fall, and then the rest just stock text.

Johnny’s wordless reaction says it all. Once he realises what happened because of him, his instinct is to run off and do something drastic, but Buz persuades him to do it his way. Just think, Buz encouraging someone to do things rationally instead of running off and punching someone.

Meanwhile, back at Chuck’s apartment… The gang are lined up outside the door with their flowers, waiting to knock. Marva knows instantly that it’s Packy’s voice as he calls through the door that he has flowers for Mr Briner. She runs and hides. Tod has to let him in because if he doesn’t he knows Packy will guess Marva is inside.

Packy can smell Marva’s perfume. He plays it cool…

…and then they all burst in. Oh, Tod. No matter how many times I see this I still get butterflies.

Tod looks old compared to all these young guys, too. He gets the first two punches in, to Packy and one of his mates, but he doesn’t stand a chance. There’s not much to say about this but ouch.

Tod is left beaten and Marva is dragged out of the apartment. Tod slumps onto the floor.

Buz is driving back with Johnny. I like it when Buz drives :-)

‘What happened?’ Buz asks Tod. It’s pretty self-evident really.

Up on the roof, Marva is being threatened by Packy’s gang.

Really, I expect them to move into some kind of slinky, threatening, hip musical routine as Marva balances on a knife edge with all the gang around her. Somehow the fact that there are girls taunting her too makes it seem more threatening. They clap their hands and move closer and Marva is obviously terrified.

Johnny arrives as Packy is holding Marva bent over the edge of the building. There’s real menace here. He’s a deeply unpleasant character in all ways.

Johnny somehow looks older now he’s really angry. He’s grown up, and all the rest are children.

‘Jackpot,’ Packy says. He’s lured Johnny to the roof, and now he’s ready with his knife. You feel he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Johnny.

That choreography again as the gang advance on Johnny now, moving like creatures. There could be a David Attenborough commentary over this.

Now it’s Johnny and Marva against the lot of them.

Tod and Buz arrive just in the nick of time (I wonder where they were up til now? Maybe getting Tod able to walk again.) You feel that Buz would be a good match for half of that crowd.

‘Summit, Packy,’ Buz demands, speaking for Chuck Briner. Buz knows all the ins and outs of gangs. Any outsider gets a summit if he can cut it with the leader. Buz is going to show that he can cut it.

Poor, bruised Tod. You know he’d jump straight into it to help Buz, though.

Packy challenges Buz to Polaris. Tod steps forward protesting, ‘Buz, this is crazy!’ but two of the gang members stop him.

Buz is quite willing to do it, but Johnny stops him. It’s his fight, not Buz’s. Buz has leather soled shoes, while Packy is wearing ‘sneakers.’ Buz wouldn’t have a chance.

Johnny tells Packy that he and Marva are going to get married. He calls Packy a ‘chicken leader,’ and starts to rile him up.

‘I invented this game, remember,’ he says. ‘I’m the boy that walks on clouds.’

So they start up. There seems to be some kind of echo on Packy’s laugh as he does it, increasing the feeling of being on the edge, both physically and mentally.

They get to the point where they’re holding each other’s wrist as they lean off the building. This really shows the trust and honour system in the gangs – the trust and honour that Johnny has betrayed. Packy could easily let him fall to his death, but he doesn’t. I wonder if he feels he can trust Johnny to do the same, since Johnny has already broken the rules?

‘He follows me,’ Johnny declares. ‘Vote.’ And as one the gang says, ‘He follows you.’ So now Johnny is the leader in this game of chicken.

The game is ranked up a notch. Buz seems confident, but Marva is still fearful.

Ostensibly rolling on the edge of the building. This is well shot. On the dvd you can see it’s a piece of plywood, but it’s shot so it looks as if it’s right on the edge of the drop.

Always you get the sense of height in these shots, looking up or looking down. They’re on top of the world.

F*** me that’s a hell of a drop. And what a grim place that would be to die.

Marva is distraught. She’s terrified that she will lose it all if Johnny falls. Johnny drops a penny down the hole, and the sense of depth is terrifying.

The gang watch in anticipation. What an ugly lot, morally and physically.

Johnny jumps across with no trouble, and then beckons to Packy. Packy hesitates. He gets ready to jump, gets ready again, hesitates, stares at the hole.

‘He’s chicken – look at him,’ one of the gang says.

I’d like to see them try that leap.

But it’s decided. Packy won’t do it, and the gang all turn on him, calling him chicken. They’re like chickens themselves, turning on a weaker member of the flock and pecking him to death.

‘And the cat jumped over the moon,’ Tod says, because Tod can be hip too,

Aw, young love. No tragic end of story death here. It’s not Romeo and Juliet after all.

‘Wonder what Chuck would have done about that,’ Buz says, nodding towards where Packy is being beaten up.

Perhaps there’s no answer. Packy’s got exactly what he needed. He’s been brought down a peg. I doubt he’s going to go forward and become a useful member of society. He’ll probably become a sociopathic loner. But it’s satisfying to see him beaten.

Tod and Buz help him up, because they’re good sorts. Buz gets to him first, because he’s the halfway between the gangs and the respectable section of society that Tod represents.

And as they lift Packy up the camera lifts up too, to see the last of the gang members leaving the roof and a view of the scope of the city. All human life is here. This is but a small part of it.