Mary Laroche Movies

Ozzy Osbourne, Gene Simmons, and Aerosmith's Joe Perry and Steven Tyler are among the Heavy Metal artists interviewed in The Decline of Western Civilization 2: The Metal Years. This follow-up to filmmaker Penelope Spheeris' classic 1981 "punk" documentary The Decline of Western Civilization is a bit more reflective and word-dominated than its predecessor, but no less entertaining. One striking aspect of the film is its before-and-after comparisons of the impact of MTV. Heavy Metal newcomers tend to overpraise the cable service, while the "oldsters" implicitly decry the mainstreaming-and in some cases, homogenizing--of their best work. Interestingly, Spheeris' own style has become more mainstream in the years since Decline of Western Civilization, thanks to experience gleaned on such dramatic films as Hollywood Vice Squad (1986) and Dudes (1987). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this crime drama, two dogged FBI agents are on the case to investigate one of the U.S.'s most infamous bank robberies. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

The most interesting aspect of The Swinger is the name of the character played by Ann-Margret: the former Ann Margaret Olsson essays the role of Kelly Olsson. A naive small-town girl, Kelly aspires to become a writer in the Big City. When her stories are rejected because they aren't exciting and provocative enough, she decides to do some hands-on research by posing as the titular "swinger." She is so successful at this subterfuge that Hefner-like publisher Anthony Franciosa makes it his mission in life to reform the "fallen" Kelly. Didn't they do this one in the 1930s as Theodora Goes Wild, with Irene Dunne and Melvyn Douglas? ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The ninth season of Alfred Hitchcock's popular TV suspense anthology opens with a chilling little character study by Robert Bloch, who seems to have drawn his inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe's The System of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether. Ray Milland stars as mad doctor Fenwick, an inmate of the Norton Sanitarium. In order to prove his theory that "role-playing" is the perfect therapy for the insane, Fenwick murders the head of the sanitarium, locks up the rest of the staff, and releases the other patients, allowing them to roam about impersonating a variety of "normal" people pursuing normal careers. But Fenwick's theory blows up in his face thanks to two unforeseen events: the arrival of the niece (Claire Griswold) of the murdered sanitarium head and the grim determination of one of the lunatics to play his new "role" to the hilt. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Though credited to Charles Beaumont, this Twilight Zone episode was actually written by Beaumont's associate Jerry Sohl. Telly Savalas heads the cast as Erich Streator, whose life becomes Hell on Earth when his stepdaughter Christie (Tracy Stratford) is presented with an expensive "Talky Tina" doll. It seems that the doll doesn't like Erich, and it has expressed this dislike by making such chirrupy pronouncements as "My name is Talky Tina. . .and I'm going to kill you." June Foray provides the voice for the doll, as she had previously supplied the voice for the once-popular doll Chatty Cathy. "Living Doll" first aired November 1, 1963. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Determined to make contact with her late son, wealthy Sylvia Walker (Virginia Field) contacts spiritualist Philip Paisley (James Forrest), never suspecting that the man is a crook who intends to leech off of Sylvia's fortune. But Bonnie Craig (Sonya Wilde) knows that Paisley is a phony--and when Paisley is murdered in a particularly gruesome fashion, Bonnie is charged with the crime. To clear his client, Perry Mason (Raymond Burr) relies upon the powers of ESP. . .not to mention a powerful electric device called the Faraday Cage. Dr. Andrija Puharich, the real-life physical researcher who brought such famous psychics as Peter Hurkos and Uri Geller to the public's attention, appears as himself. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Singer Frankie Laine makes a rare acting appearance in this episode, which includes a truly offbeat characterizaton by musician-composer Bobby Troup). Laine is cast as comedian Danny Ross, whose long-awaited TV comeback is sabotaged by his duplicitous agent Charles Goff (Harry Jackson). Danny contemplates suicide, but is talked out of it by his longtime pal Freddie Green (Walter Burke). When Green is charged with Goff's murder, Danny asks Perry Mason (Raymond Burr) to defend his buddy, obliging the detective to take a crash course in "hip" jazz lingo. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The third season of Perry Mason begins with a typically baffling set of circumstances. Just before he left for a business trip, henpecked Bruce Chapman (Karl Weber) stumbled upon the strangled body of his hateful wife Marie (Peggy Knudsen). Deciding not to press his luck, Bruce did not report the crime. Upon his return, Bruce is charged with murder--even though all evidence suggests that his wife is still very much alive! To be sure, there has been a murder, and there is a culprit; it's up to Perry Mason (Raymond Burr) to figure out who did what to whom. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A steamship docks in San Francisco, and as one of the passengers, Philip Dressler (Raymond Bailey), is waiting for a cab after clearing customs, a baggage handler suddenly grabs one of his cases and throws it into a taxi, which takes off. In the ensuing getaway, a police officer is killed, but not before he gets off a shot that takes the fleeing cab driver's life. What Lieutenant Ben Guthrie (Warner Anderson) and Inspector Al Quine (Emile G. Meyer) can't figure out is why two men are suddenly dead within a matter of seconds, all for a seemingly inexplicable baggage snatch. The truth begins to come out when an examination reveals that a small ornamental statue in Dressler's case is loaded with half a million dollars in pure heroin. Then the bodies start turning up -- beginning with a baggage handler at the docks. Guthrie and Quine uncover a plan by a drug syndicate to use innocent, unsuspecting tourists visiting the Far East as unknowing drug couriers -- and now that the original method of retrieval at the docks has unraveled, thanks to the wheelman being an addict who got himself killed, another method is improvised.

Enter a pair of hitmen from out of town, Dancer (Eli Wallach), a soft-spoken psychopath with a perfect memory and not a trace of conscience, and his philosophical mentor and "handler," Julian (Robert Keith). Taken around San Francisco by their mob-employed driver, Sandy McLain (Richard Jaeckel), a juicehead who's not quite as good a wheelman as he thinks he is, the hitmen start collecting the latest shipment of heroin from three new arrivals: a ship's crew member who knows too much for his own good, a wealthy husband and wife, and a woman and her young daughter. They calmly go about their business, Dancer and his silenced pistol taking care of any "problems" while Julian runs interference and discusses issues of grammar and speech with him, and adds to his collection of "last words" from Dancer's victims -- until the last shipment turns up missing. It seems the little girl (Cheryl Callaway) found the bag of white powder hidden on the doll her mother bought her, and used it to powder the doll's face....Now Dancer and Julian have to disrupt the planned drop to "The Man" (Vaughn Taylor) to explain the short count, and to do that they have to keep the little girl and her mother (Mary Laroche) alive, at least long enough to tell their story. Meanwhile, Guthrie and Quine keep getting closer, following the trail of bodies and putting together a description of the two killers. But can they find them before the kidnapped mother and daughter join the other victims? ~ Bruce Eder, Rovi

The flimsy plot of the Yiddish-language Catskill Honeymoon concerns a elderly Jewish-American couple celebrating their 50th anniversary. This story device is merely an excuse for a parade of comedy and musical acts, performed by the troupers and "toomlers" of Ma Holder Young's Gap Hotel, situated in the New York resort town of Parksville. Don't look for any blossoming big stars amongst the performers. The only remotely recognizable face belongs to Mary LaRoche, who became a TV leading lady in the late 1950s. Catskill Honeymoon is only barely cinematic; still, it is a valuable record of a rapidly vanishing form of entertainment. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi