ACD Daze

There were four of us: Tom (“Siny”) Sinclair, Alan Saly, Christian Doherty, and me.

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We were were all born in 1956, and we all met – at different times – at St. Hilda's and St. Hugh's school. From 1968-72, rather than play baseball, football, or basketball, we would assemble – sometimes two of us, sometimes three, sometimes all four – and improvise and record stories, with characters, music, and lots of action. The recordings were of spy tales, science-fiction epics, mysteries, even offbeat comedies, with such titles as PLANET OF THE NUNS, MR. DOT: PROFESSIONAL MURDERER, GUN FOR HENRY, T.H.E. HICK, UP THE RIVER, HUCK FINN, and THE ASSASSINS. And then, as if making these shows wasn’t enough, the quartet would occasionally gather and assemble eight or nine of these programs into a “broadcast day,” complete with commercials, station breaks, and editorial opinions. There were three of these “networks”: Christian and Tom ran ACD (with Alan and Siny guest-starring); Siny and Tom ran BEC (with Christian guest-starring); and Alan and Christian ran NCN. Everyone was involved in Ch. 45 (WJAK/WCAR, a local, non-affiliated, inept station, based on WNEW and WPIX as they were in 1968-72).

As for the four school chums? They lived happily ever after. Sort of…

You may want to hear an important Editorial Opinion from the vice president and general manager of Channel 45, Christian DuBrane (Doherty). You can hear some of the recordings we made by clicking here. And here are some of the descriptions I wrote, aping the style of TV GUIDE:

PLANET OF THE NUNS “The Planet of the Nuns”Episode 1 (remake; original lost). Taped: 1969. Scientists discover a tenth planet and send a spaceship to investigate. It crashes lands on a nightmare world ruled by strange beings. Tom: Tom Soter. Chris: Christian Doherty. Tommy Spoloski: Patrick Johnson.

TALES OF MYSTERY Episode 1. Taped: December 27, 1969. Introducing detective George Tarrell (Mandy Johnson), in a series based on the short stories by Christian Doherty. First up: Tarrell and his colleague John Johnson (Tom Soter) take an interest in the murder of Martha Hyer, a woman with a strange past.

THE SISTER “The Stolen Spaceship”  Episode 1. Taped: April 10, 1971 In this spin-off from Planet of the Nuns, Hedwig Zorb strikes out on her own, seeking intrigue and adventure around the world. This episode finds the villainous No. 1 up to his old tricks, hoping to employ Hedwig in the theft of a NASA spacecraft. Sister: Hedwig Zorb. No.1: Christian Doherty.

JOE AGENT OF V.A.T “The Deadly Cake”Episode 9. Taped: 1971 Joe receives a birthday cake in the mail – even though it isn’t his birthday. Joe: Tom Soter. Chief: Harry Smith. Wade Wise: Harry Fredericks and Phil Sloan.

“MR. DOT “We Can Kill So Many People Some of the Time or So Many People Not All of the Time”Episode 1. Taped: 1971 Mr. Dot, a professional murderer, travels the world on a killing spree that utilizes a unique method of murder: drowning his victims’ heads in cups of coffee. Mr. Dot: Alan Saly.

MUGGER “The Muggers Meet Pompulus and Mr. Daggs” Episode 1. Taped: October 10, 1970 In an updating of their characters from the hit series Street Kid, Sam and Jack Rosen play muggers Moby and Humble Smith, who get thrown into an uneasy partnership with a retired thief (Ty Phillips) and his British manservant Daggs (Alan Saly).

THE ASSASSINS “Shock Ending” Episode 2. Taped: June 12, 1971   Detective John Smith attempts to infiltrate the assassins’ organization. Brooks: John Sanderson. Atkinson: Tom Ellsworth. No. 1: Question Mark.

VOYAGE TO THE STARS“The Jungles of Regulus”Episode 5. Taped: March 29, 1971 In a rare dramatic role, Sam Rosen plays Carl Harper, a weapons expert, who teams up with Jake Bush to deal with a strange growth that is threatening the existence of the starship. Bush: Alan Saly.

ACD Stood for Nothing

ACD team, 1972 (from left): Soter, Sinclair, and Doherty.

ACD STOOD FOR NOTHING

By Tom Soter

ACD stood for nothing. That’s not quite true. The acronym stood for nothing, but the TR (as in tape recorder) network stood for something: entertainment, inspired lunacy, and bizarre 15-minute series, most with regular characters and intriguing monikers: WEST THAT WASN'T, GUN FOR HENRY, and, my favorite (for the title if nothing else), PLANET OF THE NUNS.

Most of these shows boasted a battery of writers, with such names as Fortuna Apar, Adolph Etler, and, my favorite (for the absurdity if nothing else) Look At Yourself. Of course, it was patently absurd that anyone could write such wild concoctions – they were obviously improvised efforts, mostly from the feverish brain of Christian Doherty.

If the acronym ACD stood for anything it could have been All Christian Doherty. Although he had collaborators – school chums Tom Sinclair, Alan Saly, and myself – Doherty was the chef who made all the elements work, the crazy man-of-a-thousand-plots-and-characters, some of them original, others a hodgepodge of ideas that he had picked up from movies, books, and television shows he had just seen and which he would then transform into something quite special. Often, when I would be working with him on a GUN FOR HENRY or a TALES OF MYSTERY, the wild story twists would make no sense to me – until days (or even years) later when I would happen on the show or movie or book that had inspired him.

But it wasn’t all about story-swiping: it was Doherty’s unique take on life. Who but Doherty could have dreamed up a character called “The Invisible Nun,” who needs to go to an invisibility refueling station to retain her powers? And he inspired us – Sinclair (or Siny, as we called him) created such unforgettable characters as THE FANATIC, the DRAFT-DODGER, and the terribly inept switchblade-toting mugger Jack Rosen (I played his brother Sam on three different series: STREET KID, MUGGER, and THE FISHBOYS); while Saly was the man behind the intricately plotted sci-fi series VOYAGE TO THE STARS and also the voices of countless British and German villains planning to take over the world (or at least the corner store); and I took some pride in the ridiculously German-accented nun Hedwig Zorb (in PLANET OF THE NUNS and THE SISTER; she was actually based on a real nun at high school who would give us “zero for the day” and make us sit on our hands if we were caught talking out of turn).

Doherty, on reluctantly listening to one of his old shows recently, said to me: “It’s just kids. We were little kids.” Yes, we were only 12 when we started creating ACD shows in 1968 as an after-school diversion, and not much older when ACD stopped operations in 1972/73 (at about the time our tape-recorders were replaced with Super-8 movie cameras – but that’s another story). In 1968, when we began ACD, we were concerned not as much with girls as with guns and death and the obsessive quest for identity that made The Prisoner TV series the obsessive touchstone of the better ACD efforts.

Ah, youth!

The stories are often very violent, silly, and sometimes incomprehensible. But some of them, thanks mostly to Doherty’s nutty genius, have touches of brilliance that make me proud of our misspent childhood. And those that are not quite so brilliant may at least give you a chuckle or two.
ACD team, 2008 (from left to right): Doherty, Sinclair, Soter.

Discovering WMD

Gor-Kill

DISCOVERING WMD By Tom Soter

It is probably the jauntiest tune ever heard on something described in the opening credits as a "new terror show." But it came out of necessity. When Tom ("Siny") Sinclair and I recorded WHERE MONSTERS DWELL in 1970, we needed the sound effect of falling rain, and this Paul Mauriat record I had, THE MANY MOODS OF PAUL MAURIAT, included a thunderstorm as part of its many moods, and the storm led into the jaunty theme, so history was made through happenstance. The dichotomy between terror and jauntiness was appropriate, however, since WHERE MONSTERS DWELL could not be taken seriously. It was one of our adaptations of Marvel comic books ("adapting" as in reading them pretty much straight off the page). We had done the same with JOE AGENT OF V.A.T., which utilized some 1950s anti-Communist Captain America stories that were so bad they were camp. That was also the case with WHERE MONSTERS DWELL, which took its title and stories from a comic book of that name that reprinted terror/fantasy stories from Marvel Comics's early 1960s editions of TALES OF SUSPENSE, TALES TO ASTONISH, and JOURNEY INTO MYSTERY. In any event, WHERE MONSTERS DWELL's first (and perhaps only) episode is a minor classic of inanity. Featuring Siny as Hans Grubnick (using his shiftless low-life "Ron Neilsen" voice, though, curiously, the credited actor has the name of the character he plays), the tale involves a water demon that attacks a small town. Like a bad TWILIGHT ZONE episode, the story has a twist ending full of heavy-handed irony, but the performances – arch and over-the-top – are what make this WMD a classic. Enjoy it – and also the bizarre collection of commercials that ran with it when we "broadcast" it on a BEC day.

Listen to: I Alone Know the Dread Secret of Gor-Kill, the Lurking Demon Taped: 1970 In the first of what is billed as a "new terror show," European villager Hans Grubnick discovers a deadly secret about a rampaging monster – but no one will believe him. Based on a story by Stan Lee. Grubnick: Ron Neilsen.

Do You Believe in Magic?

DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC?

By Tom Soter

THE MAGICIAN OF HORROR is existential Doherty. It’s pure and unadulterated, without the prosaic underpinnings of plot and logic that were frequently imposed on him by any of his collaborators, be it Tom Sinclair, Alan Saly, or me.

I don’t know much about the background of MAGICIAN OF HORROR, except that it was made in 1971, possibly during the month of August when the Dohertys -– Chet and Gloria, with Cameron and Christian in tow – would go off to Maine for a month, usually Kennebunkport, and Christian would sometimes record programs on his own.

In any event, MAGICIAN is Doherty to the max. Perhaps not as high energy as RED IN THE STARS or PLANET OF THE NUNS (where he would get juiced by his collaborators), but it demonstrates his obsession with violence. So many killed, so little time! It’s Doherty doing Leone, right down to the music, lifted from THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY.

From the beginning of the episode, it’s unclear who “The Magician” is. (He’s credited as actor Ty Phillips – another Doherty nom-de-plume – but he is obviously not the same squeaky-voiced Ty Phillips from MUGGER or the Alfred Hitchcock sound-a-like from THE TY PHILLIPS CORNER.) He calls himself a magician, but the only magic trick he performs is showing, “How I can make a man die with a single bullet,” as he puts it in his no-nonsense manner. And he does that same trick over and over again, for any reason at all: Horse rental too expensive? The rental agent gets shot. Bartender too sassy? He gets shot. And no one ever learns. The townspeople try to string him up. They get shot. It has the predictability of opera, without the music.

The Magician is a cowboy of some sort, but he really just exists in a child’s garden of absurdity. He shoots someone, who then explains, “I’m dead as hell.” He asks what this place is called. The answer is simple and unilluminating: “It’s called Town.” Then there are the dialogue exchanges, almost poetic in their symmetry: “How’s business?” “Good” “How much is this drink?” “One hundred dollars.” “How’s business?” Gunshots.

Doherty would revisit this material in a semi-remake called A WESTERN STORY, which added an explanation for the goings-on – but the story really needs no explanation. As one of its characters might say, “It’s just called Story.”

Listen to:

Please Don't Step on the Death Grass
Episode 1. Taped: 1971
A mysterious stranger called the Magician encounters trouble in a western town.
Magician: Ty Phillips. First man: Mandy Johnson. Second man: Evan Jones.

A Western Story
Taped: September 14, 1971.
In this semi-remake of The Magician of Horror, Ty Phillips plays Harry, a stranger with a quick draw and a powerful gun. Doctor: Bill Dohegan. Woman: Marie Rush. First Gunman: Jim Apar.

The Magician Strikes Again
An ACD Movie of the Week.
Taped: 1972.
An ordinary man (Barry Sullivan) wishes for a normal life after he is transformed into a "magician of horror." Husband: Barry Smith. HAL: Barry Bean. Dr. Tynan: John Apar.

Elementary, My Dear Bond

ELEMENTARY, MY DEAR BOND

By Tom Soter

If Dr. Watson was, in his friend Sherlock Holmes’s words, “the one fixed point in a changing age,” then what do you make of detective George Tarrell? He started out as a Sherlock Holmes wannabe and ended up as a James Bond clone by way of TV’s THE AVENGERS.

Tarrell began life in a series of short stories written by Christian Doherty, obviously patterned after Conan Doyle’s Holmes tales. In them, Tarrell is a renowned, if somewhat eccentric, detective, with a Dr. Watson-type colleague named John Johnson (no relation to the former WABC-TV newscaster) and an Inspector Lestrade stand-in called Inspector Higley. Each of the mysteries featured a puzzle for Tarrell to unlock, which he did in ways that were usually more fantastic than elementary. In “The Davenport Clock Affair,” for instance, he notices that a grandfather clock is askew and (apropos of nothing) quickly deduces that the clock is a doorway to a secret passageway in which the murderer is hiding. Simple, right?

When it came time to translate these stories to tape on TALES OF MYSTERY, Doherty and I literally read from the stories, often playing multiple characters and frequently having dialogues with ourselves (Christian was better than I was at switching from one character voice to another; listen to him, as Tarrell, confront himself, as the murderer, in “The Davenport Clock Affair” – he’s real smooth). Although the stories were influenced by the Holmes canon, the TR show also picked up ideas from the Sherlock Holmes movies starring Basil Rathbone. “Hello, what’s this!” wasn’t the way we normally talked (but Rathbone’s Holmes did), and Christian would never say (or write) a line like “These egomaniacs are much more chatty when they feel they have the upper hand” (but Rathbone would; we lifted the line from SHERLOCK HOLMES FACES DEATH, although Christian pronounced the word as “chattery”).

But the biggest lift from the Rathbone films was the “inspiring” speech that Tarrell would deliver at the end of each of the early episodes (there was nothing like them in the original Tarrell or Conan Doyle stories). Meant to be rousing, they were fairly ridiculous with Tarrell revealing his altruistic reasons for being a detective, as the uplifting strains of the Russian national anthem (!) played in the background: “Crime is what separates many men – the guilt, the fear of being caught. True peace and contentment cannot be reached until crime is wiped out completely from the face of the earth. That’s why I’m in this business, John, to see that much of this evil disease does not spread – to try and stop it from contaminating the whole world. I only hope that I live to see the fruits spring from our labors.”

As the series progressed over about 20 episodes (and into a spin-off called THE GEORGE TARRELL THEATER), we ran out of short stories and began making them up as we went along. Although these tales kept the trappings of the originals – Johnson and Higley remained virtually until the end – they slowly took on other influences. At first, it was THE AVENGERS’ absurdist villains, chief among them, The Exterminator, who exterminates people (voiced by Christian in his squeaky-voiced Ty Phillips mode, he became Tarrell’s regular nemesis after first appearing in “The Extermination Affair”). Then there was the BATMAN touch, with Tarrell and Johnson being caught up in cliffhanger endings right out of the Adam West TV series (in “The Hudley Strikes Again Affair,” the two are tied up and placed in a giant dishwasher).

Finally, Tarrell became a suave, man-about-town, more comfortable with guns and girls than magnifying glasses and “elementary, my dear Johnson”-type deductions. Like James Bond, he saved the world from super-villains, chief among them, the notorious No. 1 (who turned up in many of our series, including PLANET OF THE NUNS, THE SISTER, and GUN FOR HENRY). This transformation became complete when our hero developed a Scottish brogue. Seanny, we hardly knew ye!

George Tarrell’s last adventure was in a production Doherty did without me called THE GEORGE TARRELL THEATER. Nearly incomprehensible, it is a spy thriller that is a far cry from the genteel drawing room mysteries which Doherty himself had written. In the course of the story, the detective-turned-spy leads a group of ninjas in an attack on an enemy base and also encounters many beautiful women. Its chief influence isn’t hard to find, for Doherty unabashedly titles the episode “You Only Live Once.” Apparently not – at least if your name is George Tarrell.

Listen to:

Pilot Episode
Episode 1. Taped: December 27, 1969
Introducing detective George Tarrell (Mandy Johnson), in a series based on the short stories by Christian Doherty. First up: Tarrell and his colleague John Johnson (Nigel Manger) take an interest in the murder of Martha Hyer, a woman with a strange past.

The Davenport Clock Affair
Episode 2 Taped: 1970
Someone is planning to kill ruthless financier Clement Hobard at 5 P.M. unless Tarrell can decipher the clues, one of which is an old clock. Tarrell: Mandy Johnson. Mrs. Hobard: Hedwig Zorb.

The Malicious Mafia Affair
Episode 3 Taped: June 16, 1970
Contrary to the police view, Tarrell (Mandy Johnson) thinks that the murder of private detective Edward Stewart is tied to his connections to the Mafia. Sutton: Tom Soter. Mr. 1: Christian Doherty.

Unknown Title
Episode 4 Taped: July 4, 1970
Johnson (Nigel Manager) is held captive by an old foe of Tarrell's who is seeking revenge against the detective. Tarrell: Mandy Johnson.

The Secret South Affair
Episode 10 Taped: December 22, 1970
While on vacation in America, Tarrell (Mandy Johnson) visits a small southern town whose inhabitants seem to be harboring a secret worth killing for. Johnson: Nigel Manger. Deputy: Alan Saly.

The Birchwood Manor Affair
Episode 11. Taped: March 20, 1971
Tarrell finds that there is more fact than fiction behind the legend of a murderous hound that has apparently brutally murdered the owner of Birchwood Manor. Tarrell: Mandy Johnson.

The Student Rioters Affair
Episode 12 Taped: March 27, 1971
Tarrell’s nephew dies during a student demonstration at an American college – and Tarrell thinks it may be murder. Tarrell: Mandy Johnson. Barker: Tom Sinclair.

The Troublesome Tape Affair
Episode 13 Taped: April 5, 1971
Tarrell receives a mysterious tape recording in the mail, but it’s no practical joke: it warns of a plot to set off an atomic bomb in London. Tarrell: Mandy Johnson. Johnson: Nigel Manger. No. 1: Alan Saly.

The Extermination Affair
Episode 14 Taped: April 9, 1971
Introducing the Exterminator (Ty Phillips), a squeaky-voiced villain whose specialty is the extermination of…people. Tarrell: Mandy Johnson.

The Hudley Strikes Again Affair
Episode 18 Taped: September 11, 1971
With Johnson away, Tarrell is assisted by a bumbling replacement, Jack Logan, and his equally inept friend, Patty. Logan: Ron Neilsen. Patty: Alan Saly.

I Need a Bun

Alan Saly, creator of VOYAGE TO THE STARS, in 1973.

I NEED A BUN
THE DECONSTRUCTION OF A VOYAGE

By Tom Soter

Alan Saly and I always felt a little bit frustrated by the creativity of Christian Doherty. Our colleague was so effortlessly imaginative but also so wild and illogical that we couldn't help but feel, "If we were in control, things would be different." I remember this feeling coming to a head on the 1972 Doherty-directed film called YOU MADE ME HATE MYSELF. The story made little sense, and Doherty – for some reason – let us take the film and redub it. Our logical additions may have improved it slightly, but they didn't add anything creatively. Our work was rather prosaic prose, while Doherty's was wild poetry.

Saly was the star of most of our major movies; but in the earlier, taped shows, he was a lesser light: a pronounced presence as a guest star and supporting player (his proper British butler Daggs on MUGGER was just one of his many accented roles; he played evil Grman scientists, southern sheriffs, and crotchedy old men; he seemed rarely to use his own voice). The irony was that the one show that was ostensibly about him, called SALY PLACE, featured Doherty as a character named Alan Saly who bore no resemblance to the real Alan.

The real Alan was (and is) an affable, kind, and brainy fellow: highly thoughtful, knowledgable, and, above all else, logical. A good writer, he was always very precise about his facts and his fiction. In his youth, he had a fondness for science fiction novels and short stories, especially those by Robert Heinlein and Isaac Asimov. Neither of these writers are great stylists but their ideas are terrific.

Brian Aldiss sci-fi classic: a prototype for VOYAGE?

VOYAGE TO THE STARS began in December 1970 as an Alan Saly production. Lifting its premise from any number of sci-fi novels, it tells the story of the starship Regulus, sent on a 50-year journey to the star Vega in the hope of finding more elbow room for an overpopulated earth. Already, this was more of a premise than most of our tape recorder plays had. Saly went even further: for most of the earliest episodes, he supplied plot synopses, sound effects (laser beams and explosions taped off of television), and even music from his favorite action shows (again taped off televison, mostly THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E. and STAR TREK).

It all gave the series a unique feel, quite unlike the Doherty-dominated lunacy of our other shows. Contrast the pilot episode, "They Came from Beyond" – with Doherty in his only guest-starring role on VOYAGE - with later episodes like "Contact" or "Fateful Discovery," and you'll see the difference between a chocolate sundae and a hearty green salad. Unfortunately, that's the problem with much of the 12-episode series, produced from 1970-73: the inspired insanity of Doherty is more or less missing from the programs, which feature a patently absurd concept, ripe for mockery: as the ship encounters emergencies in space, the computer will awaken crewmen – only two or three per crisis – to deal with the situation.

This leads to a certain sameness, as Alan and I (with Tom Sinclair making a brief appearance in one episode), as the two principal players, are awakened at the start of each episode. We invariably try different accents (Alan is more successful than I am in this department, though he does gravitate towards Brits and Germans), but the dialogue is almost always the same, "Why were we awoken?" "It seems that...[plot premise]."

The stories are sci-fi standards, usually invoving alien races, ship malfunctions, or (our favorite), crewmen being driven mad by an outer space anomaly (an idea used in at least three episodes). The crewmen themselves are average joes (no women ever appear on the series), given to panicking, screaming for help, and screwing up right and left (one wonders how they were selected). Of course, no one tops Doherty's angry crewman Jameson in "They Came from Beyond." Bitter and argumentative ("God how I hate you," he says to his boss), he is leaving behind a wife and children for no explained reason (when asked why, he cries out in a melodramatic howl, "Because I HAD TO! GOD! I HAD TO!"), and implicitly threatens his superior when he is told they may have some interesting experiences on their journey ("O'Malley," he says, "I'd better not have any experiences"). The character is pure Doherty: wild, bizarre, and hugely entertaining.

One only wishes the rest of the series were as inspired. The storylines are well-thought-out but somewhat lackluster, with three exceptions: the brilliant "Jungles of Regulus," which features a well-developed plot, a great collection of music and effects, and two engaging characters (Alan as another Englishman and me in my Sam Rosen character, which was one of my best personas); and two deconstructionist later episodes of the series, "We're Selling Tombstones" and (my personal favorite) "Roger's Burial," Part 2.

I remember how "Tombstones" came about: we had 20 minutes before a TV show we were going to watch began; we decided to kill the time by throwing together a VOYAGE episode. Based partly on a DR. STRANGE comic, the episode was a non-stop, almost Doherty-like experiment in absurdity, as we free-associated our way through another crazy crewman/renegade computer scenario.

Things got even wilder in the penultimate episode of the series, "Roger's Burial," Part 2. The midsection in a trilogy about the ship's computer run amuck, this is 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY by way of GET SMART. It opens on earth, as Roger (Saly), the hero, goes in search of a scientist named Seltzman (Soter), 25,000 fathoms under water in the ocean's notorious Glomar Deep.

"Watch out there’s a rumor that a giant octopus is down there," a character says to Roger at one point, "but that’s only a silly rumor some sailor told me." Roger soon encounters the selfsame octopus, of course. Inside it, he discovers a man purporting to be Seltzman. (How they both get inside a giant Octopus and keep talking under water is never explained.)

"I’ve been in this Octopus for many moons now," says Seltzman.

"How can you tell?"

"I have a good watch."

But Roger catches him out: "Seltzman had lunaphobia. He had a crazy mixed up fear of the moon, he would never mention the moon in a sentence. You're not Seltzman. You’re a gemini construct of the computer."

Logical, like the old VOYAGE, but now with a twist: the construct ate Seltzman's brain, so – in order to obtain the knowledge necessary to save the day, Roger (and his friend Fred) decide they must eat the construct's brain, because, as Roger explains, "Your brain must have absorbed some of his knowledge, because when tapeworms are fed to one another they absorb the ability to go toward light or away from light as shown in the scientific experiments of Dr. Cholestoral."

They dig in, with Roger saying, "This tastes good!" and Fred exclaiming, "I need a bun!"

So, in the end, we became what we had fought against: absurdity, warped logic, inspired lunacy. In short, Dohertyesque.

Works for me.

Listen to:

They Came From Beyond
Episode 1 Taped: 1970
With the earth overpopulated, the starship Regulus begins a 50-year journey to a distant star in the hopes of colonizing it. But the journey may face trouble from a bitter crewman who hates computers. Jameson: Adolph Etler. O’Malley: Alan Saly.

The Collectors
Episode 4 Taped: March 29, 1971
Jackson and Trask encounter a gigantic spaceship that is slowly pulling the Regulus inside it. Jackson: Tom Soter. Trask: Alan Saly.

The Jungles of Regulus
Episode 5. Taped: March 29, 1971
In a rare dramatic role, Sam Rosen plays Carl Harper, a weapons expert, who teams up with Jake Bush to deal with a strange growth that is threatening the existence of the starship. Bush: Alan Saly.

A Touch of Treachery
Episode 7. Taped: September 10, 1971.
In the second season opener, the Regulus encounters an alien probe that transforms two of the crewmen into madmen set on ruling the ship. George Silverman: Alan Saly. Jonathan Rollins: Tom Soter.

Roger's Burial, Part 2
Episode 11. Taped: January 25, 1973
In the second of three parts, a renegade computer threatens the starship Regulus, as scientists on earth seek a solution. Roger: Bill Hamer.

I'll Never Understand E-Elli-Sore

Alan Saly as Henry Sorelli in Don't Live for Tomorrow (1973)

I’LL NEVER UNDERSTAND E-ELLI-SORE

By Tom Soter

GUN FOR HENRY was an enigma to me. Everything about the 24-episode tape-recorder series was puzzling. And I was one of the stars and writers.

First, the name of the show itself, GUN FOR HENRY. Surely it didn’t mean give him a gun as a present, as in “I give this gun to you, Henry, happy birthday.” Then it must have been using “gun” as a verb, as in hunt him down and shoot him. If so, however, why did these would-be killers call him by his first name? The assassins of President Kennedy didn’t say, “Gun for John,” did they?

That brings us to another point: his nationality. Here he was, a British detective with an Italian last name, Sorelli, Henry Sorelli. There are Brits with Italian last names, of course, but, if he were British, based in Britain, working for a British spy group, why were all his colleagues -- his irritating partner, Billy Brine, and his dim-witted superior, “the Chief” – so obviously American? And why was his brother Scottish? (Okay, I admit that one is a little less puzzling: Christian Doherty, who played “Patrick Johnson,” the actor who supposedly played Sorelli, also voiced Patrick’s brother, “Mandy,” and in order to differentiate between them, he made Mandy Scottish – see why I get confused?)

Furthermore, was he a detective or a spy? In some episodes (“The Determined Detective”), he is referred to as a detective while in others (“The Moon Is Our Destination”), he is made out to be a James Bond-type spy.

The plots were also an enigma. I mean, what kind of world was Henry living in? In the first episode, “The Runaway Bullet,” the detective is put on trial for his life “for not doing his job correctly,” as the prosecutor puts it, which in this case was saving the life of opera singer Maria Vitti. Capital punishment for incompetence? It is a very high standard, and one that should probably be applied to the Bush Administration.

Other episodes were equally enigmatic, as Henry (see, it becomes natural to refer to him that way) encounters strange happenings. In “I’ll Never Marry Martha,” a dying man’s last words are bizarrely – and to my mind, unnecessarily – cryptic: he spits out one word, “E-elli-sore,” which the local police’s “Constable Computer” – whatever that is – quickly deciphers as “Sorelli. Sorelli. Sorelli.” Now, why didn’t the dead guy just say “Sorelli”? Isn’t it harder when you’re dying to choke out “E-elli-sore” than to just say the proper name? (Unless you grew up speaking pig latin, that is.)

And then there were the stories, which often were less puzzling if I’d seen the right television shows or movies, i.e., the ones series creator and star Christian Doherty often based his narratives on. “The Moon Is Our Destination” obviously had its genesis in James Bond’s YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, with Henry becoming an astronaut; “Remember,” with Henry going through a murderous déjà vu experience, was clearly cribbed from an AVENGERS episode, “They Keep Killing Steed.” And then there was the one in which Henry takes part in the robbery of a Fifth Avenue apartment house – especially fuzzy to me at the time, 1971, until I saw THE ANDERSON TAPES.

For all that – or perhaps because of that – GUN FOR HENRY was one of our most popular (i.e., fun to make) shows in the ACD universe, with bizarre plots and one of Doherty’s most engaging characters. The series certainly was one of the longest running, starting in 1969, and finishing in 1972 (almost the entire length of our tape-recorder escapades). It even outlived its origins, evolving into a series of six 1971-73 Henry Sorelli Super-8 movies, called WISHING YOU WERE DEAD, GUN FOR HENRY, BLUE (I AM INVISIBLE), WE HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD, THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN BULLET, and DON’T LIVE FOR TOMORROW. In the movies, Henry was played not by Doherty but by Alan Saly. Don’t ask me why.

Listen to:

The Case of the Runaway Bullet, Part 1
Part 2
Episode 1. Taped: 1969
Introducing Henry Sorelli (Patrick Johnson) who, with his partner, Billy Brine, investigates bizarre cases. In the opener, Henry is assigned to protect an opera singer whose vengeful husband is out to kill her. Billy: Ed Booth.

The Case of the Vengeful Woman, Part 1
Episode 2. Taped: 1969
Henry is kidnapped by a bitter woman from his past who seeks revenge. Henry: Patrick Johnson. Valerie: Hedwig Zorb. Butler: Ty Phillips.

The Case of the Vengeful Woman, Part 2
Episode 3. Taped: 1969
Henry’s assistant, Billy Brine, becomes suspicious when he hears that a woman with a gun was seen with the vacationing detective. Henry: Patrick Johnson. Billy: Ed Booth.

The Case of the Wounded Englishman, Part 2
Episode 5 Taped: 1970
In the aftermath of Henry’s shooting at a party, everyone present seems to have had a motive for murder. Madame Dubois: Tricia Harper. Stevenson: Christian Doherty.

The Case of the Devious Double, Part 1
Episode 6 Taped: 1970
An impersonator threatens to replace Henry. Henry: Patrick Johnson. Billy Ed Booth.

The Case of the Devious Double, Part 2
Episode 7 Taped: 1970
Billy (Ed Booth) attempts to rescue Henry from his captors in Greece. Henry: Patrick Johnson. Boss: Tom Sinclair.

The Case of the Determined Detective
Episode 9 Taped: 1970
Henry is determined to capture those responsible for the murder of his partner, Billy (Ed Booth, who also directed). Henry: Patrick Johnson. Manson: Sam Rosen.

This Could Drive You Crazy, Part 1
Episode 13. Taped: April 3, 1971
In the first of two parts, Henry experiences bad dreams that seem to foreshadow real-life tragedy. Henry: Patrick Johnson.

This Could Drive You Crazy, Part 2
Episode 14. Taped: April 4, 1971
In the second of two parts, a brainwashed Henry attempts to kill the Chief. Henry: Patrick Johnson. Chief: Tom Soter.

A Bullet for Henry
Episode 16. Taped: April 8, 1971
Two crazy old men plan to send Henry (Patrick Johnson) to the moon and then blow it up. Jonathan: Alan Saly. Withers: Tom Soter.

Before Your Time
Episode 17 Taped: July 30, 1971
Henry investigates the strange death of a young man who seems to have died of old age. Henry: Patrick Johnson. Chief: Alan Saly.

I'll Never Marry Martha
Episode 19

The Moon Is Our Destination
Episode 20

Wishing You Were Dead
Made-for-TR Movie

Gun for Rogers
Made-for-TR Movie

Mysterious Adventures

Louise Sorel as Grandmother Moses.

THE REAL MYSTERY BEHIND
MYSTERIOUS ADVENTURES

By Tom Soter

I have no memory of the making or creation of MYSTERIOUS ADVENTURES. It's certainly one of the most atmospheric and yet pedestrian suspense shows Christian Doherty and I ever produced.

It is an early series - from 1969 – before our voices got deeper (which explains why on most of the initial episodes, Christian is playing girls). But beyond that, it's never clear what the program is about. The heroine – if she can be called that – is Josephine "Grandmother" Moses, the "best trunk murderess in the business," according to one of her colleagues, although what a "trunk murderess" does is never explained. Unless it's driving people mad by making threatening phone calls with cryptic questions (Grandmother: "Why?" Marie: "Why what?" Grandmother: "Why are you alive?" Or, "Will you join us in our little plan?" "What plan?" "To kill you").

Grandmother is the most unsympathetic creation in Doherty's oeuvre. She just exists to kill, threaten, and connive, along with her dim-witted grandson Oliver (my recurring role), who likes to recite a Robert Howard poem ("One fled, one dead, one sleeping on a golden bed"). She apparently works for the Mafia – though there's not an Italian to be heard, and the headman is called No. 1 not Godfather – but she seems to freelance a lot, and in one episode even hints at being a vampire (she does sleep in a coffin).

The series seems, at times, to take ts inspiration from women's suspense pictures (like SORRY, WRONG NUMBER) in which a young girl is menaced by an unseen villain. Yet at other times, it has echoes of THE TWILIGHT ZONE ("But, my dear, you are dead," says a character in an illogical surprise ending to one installment) and sci-fi invasion movies of the 1950s.

In fact, the three invaders episodes (Episodes 2, 6, and 7) offer some of the best moments of the series, thanks in part to the addition of Tom Sinclair as the money-hungry Klingon Grave. His fanatical ravings for cash (anticipating his later character on I HEX) bring a welcome spark of crazy humor to this somber, murderous show. We couldn't have enjoyed making it much, either. It was one of the few series that we actually cancelled after only one season of eight episodes. I guess even Oliver's poetry recitals couldn't save it.

Listen to:
Pilot episode: Fragment
Taped: 1969.
This is all that remains of the pilot episode of the series.

Episode 1
Taped: 1969
Louise Sorel portrays Josephine "Grandmother" Moses, a Mafia trunk murderess. Tonight: Marie Dexter (Naomi Madison) is hunted down by Grandmother and Oliver. Oliver: Tom Soter.

Episode 2
Taped: 1969.
Grandmother faces the threat of deadly invaders from outer space. Grandmother: Louise Sorel. Oliver: Tom Soter. Magician of Horror: Ty Phillips.

Episode 3
Taped: 1969
Patricia Grave arrives at her uncle's house to find her uncle presumed dead and a woman named Grandmother in charge. Grandmother: Louise Sorel.

Episode 4
Taped: 1969.
Grandmother (Louise Sorel) seeks revenge against the three men who betrayed her in a bank robbery 20 years before. Oliver: Tom Soter.

Episode 5
Taped: 1969.
In an homage to Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None, ten potential beneficiaries of the late Uncle Grave's will are being systematically killed. Sam Kropie: Christian Doherty.

Episode 6
Taped: December 27, 1969.
In the first of a two-part episode, the alien invaders return with a plan to freeze the earth. Clement Hobard: Patrick Johnson.

Episode 7
Taped: July 27, 1970.
In the conclusion of a two-parter, Grandmother (Louise Sorel) seeks out the help of Klingon Grave to best the invaders. Klingon: Tom Sinclair. Oliver Tom Soter.

Episode 8
Taped: July 30, 1970.
In the final episode of the series, Grandmother resigns from the Mafia - even though No.1 insists that no one quits his organization and lives. Assassin: Ty Phillips.

Behind the Scenes
Taped: 1969.
ACD newsman Harry Reason hosts a comic look behind the scenes at MYSTERIOUS ADVENTURES.

No Polaroids for this Swinger

NO POLAROIDS FOR THIS SWINGER

By Tom Soter

It all started with a song – well, really, with a camera. My friends and I were about 14, and we had this cool record of music from TV commercials (I probably got it from my dad, who was an award-winning advertising copywriter). I don’t remember what the other songs were, but I do remember, “The Swinger.” It was not an ad for spouse-swapping (a popular game among “swinging” couples in the 1960s) but for a Polaroid camera called the Swinger. It was a bouncy tune, with the simplest (i.e., most inane) of lyrics: “Meet the Swinger, Polaroid Swinger, meet the Swinger, Polaroid Swinger, oh, what a swinger, la la, oh, what a swinger.” Not exactly “Send in the Clowns.” (The record version left out the word “Polaroid.”)

Well, cut to 1971, when Christian Doherty, Tom (“Siny”) Sinclair, and I are together concocting another in our seemingly endless series of 15-minute tape-recorded (TR) shows. These are the creative ingredients involved: the tune; our obsession with British TV series like THE SAINT and the (now forgotten) STRANGE REPORT; a fascination with all things relating to Sherlock Holmes, in this case, THE WOMAN IN GREEN, a Basil Rathbone Holmes film; and the absurd chemistry that occurred when Doherty, Siny, and I got together.

To digress (just slightly): as apparently easily impressed TV watchers, we all thought it was pretty nifty in the opening, pre-credits sequence of THE SAINT when someone would invariably say to Roger Moore’s character, “You’re the famous Simon Templar,” and then this animated halo would appear above his head, and that would lead into the opening titles. We liked it so much, in fact, that we appropriated it (as well as THE SAINT’s theme) for one of our earlier TR series, THE SISTER, about a notorious nun named Hedwig Zorb. Now, I had this idea, “What if we create a character called ‘The Swinger.’ Someone could say the character’s name, and then the theme would appear” (no halo, of course; this was audio). Everyone must have liked it (or couldn’t come up with anything better), so THE SWINGER was born.

Exactly who was The Swinger, anyway? A suave character, naturally, and British most assuredly. Now, of the trio, only Christian could do and sustain a reasonable British accent (our fourth partner-in-TRdom, Alan Saly, could also do a fair impersonation but was not around that day). So Christian would be “The Swinger,” a sort of ersatz Simon Templar, roaming the world, searching for adventure.

As for the character’s name: “The Saint” was Simon Templar so “The Swinger” was... Chet Doherty? In reality, Chet was Christian’s father, an actor by trade, and a sort-of-mysterious figure to Siny and me. He wasn’t English (although he’d occasionally use the phrase “old chap” when addressing one of us), so I don’t know why Christian appropriated his name. Since all of Christian’s English-accented heroes sounded alike (“Patrick Johnson” was his most common nom-de-plume for an English actor), that one will have to remain a mystery (Christian’s “Chet Doherty” character also appeared in a series called THE ACTOR, which was essentially THE SWINGER with a different title tune; for THE ACTOR, go to http://elysianfields.us/?q=node/26).

Chet, Gloria, and Christian Doherty, c. 1967.

Now, if you’re still with me, you must be asking, “What do Sherlock Holmes and STRANGE REPORT have to do with all this?” Well, STRANGE REPORT is easy. That was a short-lived crime series, with an idiosyncratic titling method: one word, followed by a colon, followed by a catchy phrase (“Revenge: When a Man Hates,” for instance). Christian so liked the style that he used it here (“Murder: When You Lose Your Head”) and on other series we did such as PLANET OF THE NUNS (“Voice of Horror: Who Mourns for Lonely Nuns?”)

As for Sherlock Holmes: we were all (and still are) big fans of the great detective, and we (sort of) appropriated the plot of THE WOMAN IN GREEN for THE SWINGER. In the former, Holmes investigates “The Finger Murders,” so-named because the killer of young women cuts off one of his victim’s fingers as a “grisly souvenir” of his crime, as Holmes puts it. In our version – with this plot point concocted by Siny – the murderer cuts off not the fingers but the heads of his victims. The reason? The killer didn’t “see why people should have heads when they might just as well be wearing hats.”

We were odd children, don’t you think?

Listen to:
Murder: When You Lose Your Head
Episode 1 Taped: 1971
The Swinger looks into a case of decapitations, all apparently done by the same man. Swinger: Christian Doherty.

Orange Juice on Ice Is Nice

ORANGE JUICE ON ICE IS NICE
By Tom Soter

In our warped universe, the commercials were the fun part.

Usually, the commercial on TV or radio is the time to get a snack or take a bathroom pit stop. But on the "broadcast days" that Christian Doherty and I assembled (sometimes with the participation of Tom "Siny" Sinclair and/or Alan Saly), the commercials were sometimes more entertaining than the shows they interrupted. The bulk of them came from an award-wining radio commercials recording I had (some with bouncy lyrics like the one for the Florida Citrus Comission, which went: "Orange juice on ice is nice..."), but a number of them were done live as Christian and I improvised our way through ads for non-existent products.

Take "Snappo Potato Chips," supposedly sold at Day's Department Stores. Now, Days existed – it was a chain that Christian frequented during his summer vacations in Maine – but Snappo was just a flight of fancy. You can see it develop over the two spots included on this page. Christian is reading a "local" (as opposed to "network") ad spot for Days when he notices I am eating potato chips. He then gets the idea to feed the chips to his dog, Jake, whom he renames "Snappo, the dog." He puts the microphone to the dog's mouth and records him chewing. And thus a commercial and character are born. (Snappo returns in a sequel, in which Christian challenges me to eat as many chips – 35 – as Snappo has. I then come up with a slogan, inspired by Lay's: "No one, not even Snappo, can eat just one," which doesn't make much sense if you think about it: since when were dogs known for their self-restraint?)

BOOKMASTERS is something else again. Supposedly a regular show and not an ad, it seems to be a precursor of the infomercials that now appear regularly on early morning cable stations. It was a one-shot program that Siny and I concocted because, I guess, we liked to visit the now-defunct chain of Bookmasters bookstores.

All of which begs the question of why create/run commercials at all in our programs? Simple. In our bizarre world, commercials gave the shows legitimacy and also more closely aped the format of real-world broadcasting.

I didn't say we weren't strange.

Listen to:
Shop at Days
Taped: 1971. The first appearance of Snappo.

Snappo
Taped: 1971. The return of the potato-chip-eating dog.

Bookmasters
Taped 1970. A one-shot program about the bookstore chain.

The Actor Was His Father

[[wysiwyg_imageupload:1507:]]

THE ACTOR WAS HIS FATHER By Tom Soter

THE ACTOR was not one of our top-tier series. It was one of our "historical" shows – those supposedly old series that we manufactured for "rerun" purposes for "broadcast" on our Ch. 45 day marathons (if this is all too confusing, check out "ACD Stood for Nothing," on the navigation bar at left for an explanation of how our network broadcasting worked). The giveaway is the copyright dates: "To Kill an Actor" supposedly comes from 1963, when we would have been all of seven years old!

The shows were probably made in 1971, and they are not very inspired. Clearly based on THE SAINT television series, each one opens with Christian Doherty, in his best English accent, extolling the virtues of a city (London) or country (Mexico) he is visiting (we apparently chose the country by the available music we had on hand; for instance, a Mexican-sounding cut from Earl Hagen's I SPY album took us to Mexico). The plots are interchangeable: in each episode, someone is trying to kill the hero, either for revenge or out of feelings of jealousy. T

hat hero is called Chet Doherty, and, although the credits say everyone in the series is fictional, Chet was a real person: he was Christian's father. Chet was actually an actor by trade (mostly theatrical roles and also TV appearances), but he was nothing like Christian's re-imagining of him. The real Chet was soft-spoken and American; THE ACTOR's Chet is more like a manic Simon Templar. He is a suave Englishman given to hysterical outbursts (more Patrick Johnson – Christian's GUN FOR HENRY persona – than Roger Moore).

This fictional Chet is also some kind of detective. "There is a man in the United Kingdom who fights for law and order," explains the opening credits' speech. "There is a man who knows how to handle a gun and get the crooks in jail. There is a man who knows what he's doing. Posing as an actor, Chet Doherty is a man we all want to fight for our country. Chet Doherty is The Actor."

Why he used the cover as an actor is never explained (nor, for that matter, is it explained why he has a housekeeper with the strange name of Mrs. Moshoopkee). It is apparently not much of a cover since various people will come up to him in a given episode and say, "You're The Actor." His notoriety is so great, in fact, that a police inspector even tries to kill him because he is jealous.

The acting aspect was only used in one episode, "Playing the Death Game." In that story – inspired by any number of SAINT or AVENGERS episodes - Chet is being stalked by Robbie Roberts (me), a rather dim-witted ex-con who attempts to kill The Actor at a public performance of MACBETH. The most noteworthy aspect of the episode was the way it got Christian and me to actually read and perform Shakespeare – something we would have been reluctant to do at school (and listen as we stumble over antiquated words that we were probably seeing for the first time).

In any event, Chet Doherty was real. He died a few years ago, and this is what Christian wrote in his memory: "My love is with you, father, wherever you are. Show me your best side toward the camera. The microphone is held, you begin to speak. The Actor among us is with us always. You used to mention 'Monty' a lot. You said that you were the last person who could be Monty Clift. Yet, in some ways you are very close to the man you portrayed in life. Sometimes, Mr.Williams can be haunting us until our mortality fails to gain momentum. My love is with you, wherever you are."

Listen to:

To Kill An Actor Episode 1 Taped: 1971 Chet is menaced by a foe who swears to murder him during a performance of Macbeth. Chet: Christian Doherty.

Playing the Death Game Episode 2 Taped: 1971 While in Mexico, The Actor (Christian Doherty) faces death threats.

Episode Fragment Taped: 1971 Pre-credits sequence from lost episode of the series. With Alan Saly.

The Hamburger Hour

 THE HAMBURGER HOUR By Tom Soter

[[wysiwyg_imageupload:1506:]]

THE CHRISTIAN DOHERTY SHOW used to wrap up our ACD broadcast days. Unlike the other TR programs that were pre-recorded, this variety show was done live, the coda to our collection of prepared material. It was meant to be a free-wheeling variety show in the style of THE CAROL BURNETT SHOW or THE ED SULLIVAN SHOW, with a little bit of THE TONIGHT SHOW WITH JOHNNY CARSON thrown in on the side. As such, it closely aped their formats: musical guests, comedy sketches, celebrities spotted in the audience, and occasional interviews with TR stars. But it was actually a snapshot of our youth. It could be called "Christian Doherty's Hamburger Hour."

The show typically opens to a theme song that I think was lifted from a SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS soundtrack album (hence the end credit, "Music by the Seven Dwarfs Orchestra"). It is sweeping, dramatic, variety show-like, promising momentous things. What you actually end up with is Doherty goofing around with me as his sidekick, and with such guests as Alan Saly, Tom Sinclair, and Charles Daggs (all friends from high school), and also such luminaries as Patrick Johnson (played by Doherty), Hedwig Zorb (played by me), and Ty Phillips (Doherty). There were also musical guests Shirley Bassey, Nat King Cole and Stubby Kaye, and the Limelighters (all culled from tapes and records).

Doherty being Doherty, however, the series reflects his idiosyncratic personality. For instance, a "comedy" sketch on one episode – complete with canned audience laughter – finds Alan Saly and Ty Phillips stalking Doherty and me and ends with the two of us as targets on a shooting gallery pleading for our lives (funny, isn't it?). In another sequence, Doherty announces that I am going to sing a song – which was news to me – and I quickly improvise a ditty with Sinclair called "The Big Man" (its lyrics are pretty awful, sung in a non-rhyming call-and-response style: "What do you do with the Big Man?" "You feed him to the vomiting drunk"). Bizarrely, this song is preceded by Christian leading all of us in a rendition of "America the Beautiful."

The show is goofy, informal, and downright bizarre, with Doherty bantering with guests Alan Saly (he calls him a fine "specimen"), Patrick Johnson, Mandy Johnson, and Ty Phillips (these last three, of course, being played by Doherty himself); supposedly leaving near the end of one show to go home to his Christmas dinner; listening to "Mandy" talk about the script and production problems of his ACD series TALES OF MYSTERY; and asking Sinclair and me to each "say one word" (we both say three: "Edgar Rice Burroughs," indicating our obsession with the author of the Tarzan books).

And, of course, through it all, reality keeps breaking in: I complain that there are no more potato chips left, and Doherty asks for a hamburger and laughs at the goings on, unable to keep a straight face in the world he created. It is the world of our childhood innocence, now gone forever.

Listen to: The Christian Doherty Christmas Special Episode 1. Taped: 1969 Chris welcomes Nat King Cole, Stubby Kaye, Hedwig Zorb, and Patrick Johnson. Songs include "The Ballad of Cat Ballou." With Tom Soter.

The Sound Effects Show Episode 2. Taped: 1969 Guests include Hedwig Zorb and Louise Sorel from Planet of the Nuns; Patrick Johnson; Ty Phillips; and Shirley Bassey, who sings "Goldfinger."

Alan Saly and Other TR Specimens Episode 3. Taped: 1969 Guests Alan Saly and Ty Phillips perform in a sketch in which Chris and sidekick Tom Soter are targets on a rifle range! The cast also eats hamburgers. Also appearing: Tom Sinclair, who joins Tom in singing "The Big Man."

Blunt Talk from Mandy Johnson Episode 4. Taped: 1970 in the season finale, Mandy Johnson talks about script problems on Tales of Mystery and The Limelighters sing "Move Over and Make Room for Marty." With Tom Soter.

The Man Who Played a Nun

I wasn't a nun. But I played one on audio tape. Yes, I admit it. I was the voice behind the infamous Hedwig Zorb (cue: theme music), a notorious nun who appeared in 24 episodes of PLANET OF THE NUNS and in the 20 or so episodes of the spin-off series, THE SISTER.

Hedwig was based on a real character: a middle-aged, German-accented nun who taught my "religious knowledge" class during my high school years, c. 1969-1971. Although she was ripe for parody, I remember there was nothing amusing about her in real life. She was a knuckle-rapping terror who made us sit on our hands if we misbehaved and blithely handed out her most effective punishment to those who crossed her: "Zero for the day." We knew her as Sister Hedwig, but we found out her real name (in those pre-Google days) by looking her up in the school yearbook, where she appeared in years past as a laytacher under the monicker of Hedwig Zorb.

The name was apt, as unreal as the notorious nun. By 1969, when Christian Doherty and I created PLANET OF THE NUNS, I had started doing a wicked impersonation of her that delighted friends and family (I remember recording a collection of improvised songs with my brother Nick on guitar in my Hedwig persona; they were pretty bad, but had remotely clever names, like "The House of the Rising Nun").

Hedwig became one of my most popular characters, turning up in everything from WEST THAT WASN'T and JOE AGENT OF V.A.T. to THE CHRISTIAN DOHERTY SHOW and THE FANATIC. (I have to admit, however, that one reason for all those appearances was the fact that we didn't have any female actresses for our shows, so Hedwig was a necessary guest star to fill out our gender-specific roles.)

Our Hedwig was a real woman's libber. No shrinking violet, she shot (with a silencer) and punched her way out of most predicaments, and by the time of THE SISTER, she had morphed from a terrifying nun into a bonafide heroine, a kind of female Simon Templar (of TV's SAINT, from which we lifted the theme song). Although we had attempted THE SISTER series in 1969, we didn't begin taping it in earnest until 1971, when PLANET OF THE NUNS was ending. The early episodes, like "The Stolen Spaceship," are similar to PLANET, as Hedwig perfoms crimes against humanity with the help of her PLANET associate, Ruth. Later episodes find her dealing with Dracula, Frankenstein, and even Charlie Chan as the series got away from its roots and became more absurd (as though a series about a pistol-packing German nun wasn't absurd enough.)

In listening to her now, I have to admit I find Hedwig something of a bore. Her solution to problems is always the same: "Be seeing you," she will invariably say, moments before shooting someone. The technique is too George W. Bush-like for my tastes. For a 14-year-old, such simplistic resolutions might suffice. But after thousands of deaths in Iraq, such random murder doesn't seem that funny anymore. I imagine even Hedwig would agree.

The Man Who Played a Nun

By Tom Soter

I wasn't a nun. But I played one on audio tape. Yes, I admit it. I was the voice behind the infamous Hedwig Zorb (cue: theme music), a notorious nun who appeared in 24 episodes of PLANET OF THE NUNS (http://elysianfields.us/?q=node/7) and in the 20 or so episodes of the spin-off series, THE SISTER.

Convent of the rising nun: Hedwig's real home.

Hedwig was based on a real character: a middle-aged, German-accented nun who taught my "religious knowledge" class during my high school years, c. 1969-1971. Although she was ripe for parody, I remember there was nothing amusing about her in real life. She was a knuckle-rapping terror who made us sit on our hands if we misbehaved and blithely handed out her most effective punishment to those who crossed her: "Zero for the day." We knew her as Sister Hedwig, but we found out her real name (in those pre-Google days) by looking her up in the school yearbook, where she appeared in years past as a laytacher under the monicker of Hedwig Zorb.

The name was apt, as unreal as the notorious nun. By 1969, when Christian Doherty and I created PLANET OF THE NUNS, I had started doing a wicked impersonation of her that delighted friends and family (I remember recording a collection of improvised songs with my brother Nick on guitar in my Hedwig persona; they were pretty bad, but had remotely clever names, like "The House of the Rising Nun").

Hedwig became one of my most popular characters, turning up in everything from WEST THAT WASN'T and JOE AGENT OF V.A.T. to THE CHRISTIAN DOHERTY SHOW and THE FANATIC. (I have to admit, however, that one reason for all those appearances was the fact that we didn't have any female actresses for our shows, so Hedwig was a necessary guest star to fill out our gender-specific roles.)

Our Hedwig was a real woman's libber. No shrinking violet, she shot (with a silencer) and punched her way out of most predicaments, and by the time of THE SISTER, she had morphed from a terrifying nun into a bonafide heroine, a kind of female Simon Templar (of TV's SAINT, from which we lifted the theme song). Although we had attempted THE SISTER series in 1969, we didn't begin taping it in earnest until 1971, when PLANET OF THE NUNS was ending. The early episodes, like "The Stolen Spaceship," are similar to PLANET, as Hedwig perfoms crimes against humanity with the help of her PLANET associate, Ruth. Later episodes find her dealing with Dracula, Frankenstein, and even Charlie Chan as the series got away from its roots and became more absurd (as though a series about a pistol-packing German nun wasn't absurd enough.)

In listening to her now, I have to admit I find Hedwig something of a bore. Her solution to problems is always the same: "Be seeing you," she will invariably say, moments before shooting someone. The technique is too George W. Bush-like for my tastes. For a 14-year-old, such simplistic resolutions might suffice. But after thousands of deaths in Iraq, such random murder doesn't seem that funny anymore. I imagine even Hedwig would agree.

Listen to:

A Visit to the School, Part 1
Part 2
Pilot episode. Taped: 1969
In the original, unsold pilot of the series, The Sister (Hedwig Zorb) goes undercover to gather information about a horrifying school. Ruth: Ruth Chas.

The Stolen Spaceship
Episode 1. Taped: April 10, 1971
In this spin-off from Planet of the Nuns, Hedwig Zorb strikes out on her own, seeking intrigue and adventure around the world. This episode finds the villainous No. 1 up to his old tricks, hoping to employ Hedwig in the theft of a NASA spacecraft. Sister: Hedwig Zorb. No.1: Christian Doherty.

The Talented Chopper
Episode 2. Taped: 1971

Waiting for ERB

WAITING FOR ERB

By Tom Soter

I’m sorry we don’t still have the first episode of the EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS DISCUSSION HOUR. If we did, it might help explain how this bizarre series came to be. I know that Tom Sinclair and I created it, that it was born out of our love of the works of fantasist Edgar Rice Burroughs, but beyond that, I don’t know what we were thinking. If we weren’t only 12 years old when we first did it, I’d say we were high.

But maybe we were high: how else to explain a “discussion hour” that that ran for roughly 15 minutes and had very little discussion (unless reading off lists of book titles and giving brief plot synopses passes for informed talk). But I guess the EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS THREE-QUARTERS-OF-AN HOUR LIST AND PLOT SUMMARY SHOW was too unwieldy a title. And what he hell did Paul Mauriat’s “Love Is Blue” theme have to do with ERB? (It’s almost as inappropriate as the jaunty opening for WHERE MONSTERS DWELL, another bizarre show Sinclair and I concocted.)

I would speculate that the show started off as a fairly straightforward attempt to talk about our fondness for the works of Burroughs (which also led to a pretty lousy adaptation of the Pellucidar novels for ACD). The first two episodes of the ERB DISCUSSION HOUR were taped in 1968, when our voices were still falsetto-sounding, and our intentions earnest. When we revived the show two years later, however, our voices had gotten deeper and so had our intentions: we must have seen (at least partially) the absurdity of the concept and turned the series into a parody of afternoon and late-night gabfests on TV. Poking fun at the studied air of informality and bonhomie that talk show hosts Merv Griffin and Mike Douglas had perfected, the last four episodes of the ERB DISCUSSION HOUR are a study in inspired inanity.

Consider: we all played ourselves – I was Tom Soter, the informed host. Tom (“Siny”) Sinclair was my most frequent guest. Christian Doherty was my co-host (on the third episode). But we also played the guests. I portrayed Hedwig Zorb, a star of PLANET OF THE NUNS and was also Sam Rosen, co-star of MUGGER. Siny played Sam’s brother Jack and sound-alike Southerner Marty Phillips of BEC’s HUCK FINN (and also appeared as Joe Bolton/Ron Neilsen, another BEC star). Christian turned up as Ruth Chas, star of PLANET OF THE NUNS and Patrick Johnson, from GUN FOR HENRY. Then there were the cameos by Siny’s “Jack Phelps,” the baritone technician who keeps interrupting the discussions on the last two episodes to make pithy comments (he identifies himself as the series’ cameraman, although why a cameraman would be needed on an audio-only show is never explained).

The format for the hosts and “guests” is simple: we talk to ourselves, seemingly about anything and everything but Burroughs. Ruth Chas talks about her upcoming marriage to Nigel Manger (another fictional actor, played by yours truly on TALES OF MYSTERY). Marty Phillips says things like, “The problem with the world is there aren’t enough southerners in it,” to which guest host Hedwig Zorb replies, “That’s stupid.” Hedwig threatens to leave in middle of the show because the program “nauseates” her. Sinclair is astounded by the high volume of commercial breaks and, over a number of shows, comments on the lack of substance or worthwhile discussion (at the conclusion of the fifth episode he says, “Another show wasted”). At one point, Jack and Sam Rosen talk about their accents; at another, Sam reveals he doesn’t like Marty Phillips (who actually sounds just like his brother – no wonder, too, since both are played by Sinclair).

When the discussion occasionally drifts to Burroughs, it is equally inane: Sinclair goes on a tear about how the movies “exploit” great literary figures like Tarzan and Sherlock Holmes (but backpedals from his principled stand almost immediately when he admits he likes the bumbling Watson figure in the Sherlock Holmes movies, which of course has nothing to do with ERB). The Rosens get their Burroughs titles confused, and the German-accented Hedwig Zorb reveals that her favorite Burroughs book is one featuring a German hero.

It’s all quite ridiculous, with even the hosts commenting on how bad it is. Indeed, how can you take a show seriously that, for its sixth and final episode, offers a “clip” show of greatest moments from previous shows? It is almost Beckett-like in its celebration of the emptiness of life. It is, in fact, an early “reality” show, where the inane becomes profound, where nothing is everything, and where Christian Doherty can say, with an apparent straight face, “We hope this [episode] will be more of a treat for you. Our last two shows have not been the best,” and then, say to an unseen host offering him a drink, “Yes I’ll have some punch, too.”

Listen to:
Lists and Plot Summaries
Episode 2. Taped: 1968.
Guests Robert Smith and Tom Sinclair discuss Back to the Stone Age and Tarzan and the Golden Lion.

I'll Have Some Punch Too
Episode 3. Taped: June 25, 1970
Guests: Tom Sinclair, Hedwig Zorb, Alan Saly, and Ruth Chas. Host: Tom Soter.

Another Show Wasted
Episode 4. Taped: August 24, 1970
Guest host Tom Sinclair welcomes guests Marty Phillips, Hedwig Zorb, and Sam and Jack Rosen.

There Aren't Enough Southerners
Episode 5. Taped: September 5, 1970
Guest host Hedwig Zorbs talks about ERB with Marty Phillips and Jack Rosen.

The Final (Clip) Show
Episode 6. Taped: September 5, 1970.
In the final episode of the series, host Tom Soter talks with Tom Sinclair, and reviews past installments of the talkfest.

Weird Tales

WEIRD TALES

By Tom Soter

I HEX is one weird series. It features a hero who is bitter, self-pitying, cruel, and at times, cowardly. He is a hexer (the show’s term for magician), and it is set, for some reason, in 1543, in the English town of Dover (although, inexplicably, almost everyone speaks with an American accent).

I HEX was another Christian Doherty creation. He wrote and spoke the creepy opening narration, which, like much of Doherty’s work, defies logic: “The year is 1543. People come to him from far-off lands. They come to him with their problems, hoping that he, the magician and hexer, can solve them. And lo to anyone who defies the hexer’s powers in the wrong way…” (I guess it’s okay to defy his powers in the right way.)

Anyway, that was all the writing Doherty did; the rest was improvised by the two of us, irrespective of logic and historical accuracy (in the first episode, for instance, “The Magician,” the hero refers to a wristwatch). I don’t know where we got the idea for the show; all I remember is that the title was a takeoff on the then-popular TV spy series I SPY, starring Bill Cosby and Robert Culp. But where the Cosby/Culp series was light and frothy, buoyed by the two stars’ charisma and camaraderie, I HEX is dark and brooding, with Doherty playing the lead character, Philip Richardson, as an angry man who hates being a hexer and does everything for money. He’s a kind of savage Jim Rockford; a private detective who happens to be a magician.

Like most noirish eyes, Richardson is contemptuous of his clients (he knows they mean to trick him), bargains for more money yet settles for less (in one episode, he demands 60,000 bags of gold as payment for his services, but agrees to 400), refuses to handle divorce cases (in the first episode, when King Tobias asks him to get evidence concerning his wife’s fidelity, Richardson says, “I don’t handle those kind of cases, only battles”), and is ultimately a loner (a self-pitying one, too; in the first episode, he claims, “I must be the loneliest man on earth,” while in the third, he says he cannot settle down with a woman because “nobody loves a hexer”).

Richardson is probably the most unappealing hero in Doherty’s gallery: cruel and greedy, he spends most of the time yelling at people who seek him out for help and the rest of the time threatening to destroy them if they don’t acknowledge his greatness. The character was ripe for parody, which is what Tom (“Siny”) Sinclair and I did when we made a third episode on our own, “The Deadly Sceptre of the Sun,” with Siny replacing Christian in the lead role (on tape, the actors purportedly playing the hexer were Todd Richards – Doherty – and Henry Walden – Siny).

Siny and I brought over the absurdist sensibilities we employed on our signature series together, JOE AGENT OF VAT. As with some episodes of JOE, we actually didn’t make up the plot, just reinterpreted it, reading dialogue and descriptions from a comic book. In this case, it was an issue of the Gold Key STAR TREK comic (actually called the “Sceptre of the Sun”; as we did in the VAT series we added “Deadly” to the title). As Richardson, Siny outdoes Doherty for self-pitying lunacy, and makes Richardson even nastier – and a coward to boot (at the first sign of danger, he says, “I’ve got to get out of here,” and he quickly caves in to a rival hexer’s demands when that hexer turns Richardson into a toad).

Unlike the Doherty episodes, the Sinclair show is played for laughs (and it has some unintentional ones, with our constant stumbles in reading the dialogue and our mispronunciation of such words as sceptre, façade, and robot). We also improvised bits: we added a character called “The Ringer of the Mountains,” after Richardson complains to a character, “You pulled a ringer in on me.” But mostly, we were mocking the overly serious sensibilities of the original series as well as the poor writing in the Gold Key comic.

And we were also having a lot of fun, as well, which was the main reason we did it, of course. We certainly didn’t do I HEX for the money. Hey – someone paying us for I HEX. Now that would have been a real magic trick!

Listen to:
The Magician
Episode 1. Taped: September 12, 1970
Richardson is approached by King Tobias, who suspects that his wife and her lover are plotting to kill him. Richardson: Todd Richards. Tobias: Clint Dastern. Rival hexer: Ty Phillips.

Richardson’s Challenge
Episode 2. Taped: August 31, 1971
A hexer from another dimension tests Richardson’s powers. Richardson: Todd Richards. Merlin: John Montezuma. Hexer: Samuel Florence.

The Deadly Sceptre of the Sun
Episode 3 Taped: 1971
Henry Walden takes over as the embittered magician Philip Richardson in this episode that finds the hexer forced into service by a more powerful sorcerer who threatens to turn Richardson into a toad. Xanadu: John Tobias.

Where's Alan?

The real Alan Saly in 2005.WHERE'S ALAN?
By Tom Soter

The only thing missing from SALY PLACE, the vaudeville-style sitcom that Christian Doherty and I created, is Alan Saly. It's got absurdist comedy, songs, big-name guests, and even a bit of melodrama. What it doesn't have is Alan Saly. Oh, there's a character called Alan Saly, but he has about as much connection to reality as George W. Bush does.

SALY PLACE is a show about the adventures of a teenage boy named Alan Saly who courts a beautiful girl named Emily Gould. There really is an Alan Saly, as anyone who checks out other essays on this web site can see. Alan, a teenager at the time of SALY PLACE (1971) who had a real-life crush on the real Emily, never appears in the series. His part is played by Christian Doherty, and any resemblance between the actual Saly and his tape-recorder counterpart is purely coincidental. While the real Alan was a sober, logical fellow, the SALY PLACE version is pure Doherty: goofy, high-spirited, and a wild man as Christian shoots off ideas like machine gun bullets. This is an Alan the world never made, a reimagining of Saly as a vaudeville headliner.

SALY PLACE was created as filler material; when we'd have some extra tape, we'd make a SALY PLACE. Unlike our other shows, which ran about 15 minutes apiece, SALY PLACE was generally brief (five to seven minutes a program), with false "copyright" dates (1962, 1965) to place the series closer to the more innocent era of the 1950s (in 1962, none of us knew each other, everyone being all of six years old). Most episodes open with "Alan" doing a George Burns-style monologue (inspired by the old BURNS AND ALLEN SHOW), supposedly before a live, applauding audience (the applause is supplied by Christian) that would set up the premise for the episode.

These plot lines are pretty simple (and fairly inane), usually involving celebrity guests (Patrick Johnson, Ty Phillips, Joseph Barlotta – all played by Christian, naturally) who somehow upset Alan and Emily's relationship. In one, Patrick sings a song against marriage, prefacing it with the ridiculous comment, "You know the English are against a courtship." (If he sounds remarkably like Rex Harrison that should be no surprise: the vocals were lifted from the MY FAIR LADY soundtrack record.) In another, Patrick and other celebrity guests fight over an engagement ring Alan wants to buy, this time to the strains of "With a Little Bit of Luck."

If it all sounds silly, it is and intentionally so, and none more so than the two-parter, "Spook in the Woods/Forest" (it has two titles, apparently because we couldn't remember whether we had said "woods" or "forest"). In it, Alan and two friends, Frank O'Sullivan and Jim O'Perry (no sign of Emily in this one), are taken on a journey by a mysterious knight (Patrick Johnson) whom they meet in the woods. They carry with them a portable record-player, purportedly playing the music of the David Rose Orchestra (which triggers this witty exchange: "It’s good we have the David Rose Orchestra." "My rose is your rose, Alan." "Your tulip is my head, O’Sullivan.").

This being a Doherty-influenced program, however, you take turns you'd never take in a typical 1950s TV or radio show: the bad guys plan to eat them at the next Feast of Death ("Yes, we are cannibals," says Ty Phillips, a guest star) or else put them in the acid pit. The story ends abruptly (we were apparently running out of tape) with the knight returning and saying, "You've learned your lesson. Now to get home, repeat these three words: 'There's no place like home.'"

Of course, that's five words. But, then, unlike the real Alan, logic was never a hallmark of SALY PLACE. (And neither the real nor the faux Alan ever did marry Emily Gould.)

Listen to:
The Time Machine
Taped: 1971
Alan goes back in time in Dr. My Nose's Time Machine to relive his fight with Fats Domino. Alan: Christian Doherty.

Spook in the Forest
Taped: 1971
Alan (Christian Doherty) and two friends encounter strange adventures when they become lost in the woods. Knight: Patrick Johnson.

Getting Married
Taped: 1971
Alan and Emily meet two old codgers (Patrick Johnson, Tom Soter) who advise them against getting married. Patrick sings "I'm an Ordinary Man." Directed by Finlay Currie.

The Unconquerable Alan
Taped: 1971
Alan fights with various celebrities (Ruth Chas, Ty Phillips, Patrick Johnson) for an engagement ring he wants to give to Emily. The cast sings "With a Little Bit of Luck."

Alien Invaders
Taped: 1971
Alan and Emily encounter alien invaders from outer space (Ed Booth, Joseph Barlotta). The cast sings "The Impossible Dream."

Who Mourns for Lonely Nuns?

WHO MOURNS FOR LONELY NUNS?

By Tom Soter

The planet of the nuns really did exist. Except it wasn’t a planet. It wasn’t even a city or a town. It was a building on 114th Street in Manhattan where I spent 14 years of my life, from nursery to 12th grade, which to some 12-year-olds may have seemed as close to a life sentence as you can get.

The convent of the rising nun: the real planet.

It may not have been “a world filled with endless corridors of horror,” as my classmate Christian Doherty put it in his colorful opening monologue for the first episode of PLANET OF THE NUNS, but in some ways it was pretty scary. I mean, this was a place run by little old ladies clothed in black robes, singing songs about death and resurrection to a painted figure of a man on a cross. To a pair of 12-year-olds, which is what Christian and I were when we taped our first episode of PLANET OF THE NUNS in 1968, this was spooky stuff, which might make you think you were, as Christian said in that monologue, facing the “true meaning of life…and death.” But one shouldn’t get too heady when talking about an ACD show. It was all really a big goof, a combination of PLANET OF THE APES (right down to the crackling Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack music, which we shamelessly appropriated) and THE TWILIGHT ZONE, with some real-life parodies tossed in for good measure. There really was a Sister Hedwig (whose real name actually was Hedwig Zorb, and whom I played in almost all of the 24 episodes of the series, and in the 20 or so episodes of the spin-off series THE SISTER. There really was a Ruth (the headmistress), a Louise, an Edith Margaret (who actually did say, “Stop this foolishness,” but not while brandishing a gun), a Joseph Barlotta (who was the superintendent, however, not a gunsel), and a Father Egan – though if any of them carried pistols (with silencers, no less), I would have been very surprised. (To my knowledge, there was no character called No. 1, however – that mysterious figure was lifted from the James Bond movies, by way of THE PRISONER.) PLANET OF THE NUNS was just a series of gags when it started – catchphrases like “It’s your funeral” and “Zero for the day” recycled from reality into a warped wonderland of horror. But as the series progressed, especially in its second and third years, it became a weird kind of soap opera, which had terrific titles (“See How They Die,” “Voice of Horror: Who Mourns for Lonely Nuns?”) and was strangely gripping (at least to me, hearing it nearly 40 years later) in its breathless pace and oddball personalities: the Invisible Nun, going to her invisibility refueling station; now-obscure 1969 Mayoral candidate Mario Procaccino appearing as a slimy politician (who gets his head chopped off); and even President “Dick” Nixon, who was revealed as a former lover of Ruth’s. Characters came and went, usually violently, the students rebelled constantly, and life – and death – went on. But even when someone was thrown into the “pit of horror” (located, we are told, behind the altar in the chapel), they weren’t gone. “Or is she really dead?” as Christian would say in his best Rod Serling manner. There was this resurrection thing we had learned about at school, you see… In the end, the planet of the nuns was, of course, just a place of the imagination. Although Mother Ruth could indeed be scary, she and the rest of the nuns were never mean and were actually, generally, pretty nice. But a “pretty nice” PLANET OF THE NUNS – that wouldn’t have been as much fun, now would it? Listen to: The Planet of the Nuns Episode 1 (remake; original lost). Taped: 1969 Scientists discover a tenth planet and send a spaceship to investigate. It crash lands on a nightmare world ruled by strange beings. Tom: Tom Soter. Chris: Christian Doherty. Tommy Spoloski: Patrick Johnson.

Meet Sister Hedwig  Episode 3 Taped: 1969 Introducing Sister Hedwig (Hedwig Zorb), a new teacher at the school, who threatens to give Tom and Chris a “zero for the day.” Ruth: Ruth Chas. The Planet Recaptured Episode 16 Taped: 1970 The students try to unravel the mystery of the nuns’ home planet. Hedwig: Hedwig Zorb. Nixon: Christian Doherty. Edith Margaret: Edith Margaret. Where Are They Going? Episode 17 Taped: September 11, 1970 The rebellious students capture the nun leader No. 1, but the shadowy figure seems strangely unconcerned. Chris: Christian Doherty. Tom: Tom Soter Chronicles of a Nun Episode 18 Taped: September 11, 1970 Ruth travels into the future – with horrible consequences. Ruth: Ruth Chas. Hedwig: Hedwig Zorb. Voice of Horror: Who Mourns for Lonely Nuns? Episode 23 Taped: April 9, 1971 The Invisible Nun gives testimony and the mysterious Voice of Horror’s identity is revealed. Meanwhile, the students plan another rebellion, this time with a chance of success. Hedwig: Hedwig Zorb. Ruth: Ruth Chas.