Guy Ritchie’s “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” (aka “The Vinciguerra Affair”): A Hollywood Remake Gets It Right

(NOTE: Possible SPOILERS ahead!!!) 

After the big-screen travesties of “21 Jump Street,” “The Avengers” (as in Steed and Mrs. Peel), “I Spy,” “Starsky and Hutch,” “The Wild Wild West,” and probably others my memory refuses to dredge up, a Hollywood remake has gotten it right.  Guy Ritchie of “Sherlock Holmes” fame has given us “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” for a new generation.

As we were warned and as the trailers have shown us, it’s not just like the series.  There are no steel-walled headquarters behind a tailor shop, no Innocent character (though East Berlin “chop-shop girl” Gaby Teller [right] starts out that way).  Waverly is there, though not all the way through the film.  There’s no bulletproof glass scene, let alone as an intro.  No Thrush either; the “international criminal organization” in the film is given no name.

And our heroes Solo and Illya are given colorful backgrounds completely unlike the original characters.  Napoleon Solo [Henry Cavill, below], while he is ex-Army, is kin to Alexander Mundy of “It Takes a Thief,” a former heist artist working off his prison sentence by spying for the CIA; and Illya Kuryakin [Armie Hammer, above] is huge, ferocious, and powerful, the son of a Siberian exile father and a adulterous mother.  They are not friends.  In fact -- this being, apparently, an origin story -- they hate each other, and during the film’s first ten minutes try seriously to kill each other.  And light romantic comedian Hugh “I don’t give a toss, Jones” Grant as their spymaster boss, Mr. Waverly --???

So far this doesn’t sound much like the series we’ve loved, lo, these many decades, does it?

But.  But!

Ritchie is famous for his Sherlock Holmes films, in which Holmes bears not much resemblance at first to Doyle’s iconic character -- but in which the core of the character is there, and the films also feature little nods to the original material.  His  “U.N.C.L.E.” is the same way.  The East Berlin scenes remind you of “Dove Affair,” the film’s safecracking sequence of “Fiddlesticks” and “J for Judas,” Elizabeth Debicki’s glamorous villainess of Anne Francis as Gervaise Ravel in “Quadripartite” and “Giuoco Piano.”  The carbine [above] with telescopic sight wielded by Illya in several scenes suggests the famous U.N.C.L.E. Special.  And there are plot switches like those in “Giuoco Piano” and “Deadly Decoy.”

Most important, the film is neither a parody nor a comedy, but an energetic period-piece (1963) spy story with real danger, leavened by humor in the right places. *  The casting, always the tricky thing to get right, is spot on.  (Let’s be honest.  If you were to see the movie poster [right] without the legend on it, merely the armed figures -- wouldn’t you muse to yourself, “Gee, they remind me of Solo and Illya . . .”? )  (Let us genuflect to the God of Moviemakers and be very glad that Tom Cruise bowed out of the project!)

Ritchie’s visual style as a director is very much in the manner of original series directors like Joseph Sargent and Barry Shear.  The story hustles while still telling us what we need to know.   Ritchie’s trademark “flashback snippets which explain what really happened” are sprinkled here and there.  And the almost balletic scenes of the East Berlin car chase are amazing.  Beyond that, we get split-screen techniques in one or two places which beautifully show us separate but simultaneous events.  The assault on Vinciguerra Island, for example, takes only a third of the time a conventional scene would, and gets us to the point we really want to see: Solo and Illya going into action as a team [above].

Grant as “Commander Waverly” [right] appears very little until close to the climax, thus one of the tricky plot switches I mention.   Grant carries off his role with an air of amused mastery, and without the “Upper-Class Twit” routine he’s known for.  (“Commander,” of course, being James Bond’s RNVR rank; and there is a reference to another Bond film as well.)

Verdict:  It’s good.  Go see it.  And be sure to stick around for the credits:  We’re afforded glimpses into the lead characters’ dossiers, and the meaning of the letters U.N.C.L.E. appear on screen.  (Yes, fellow purists, it reads “Law and Enforcement.”)

* If I have one quibble, it’s with the scene in which Solo, fully aware that his temporary partner is being chased by guards and fired upon by machine guns, takes the time to tune the truck radio ** and to have a drink and a bite of sandwich before coming to Illya’s aid.  This was too much like the “Illya fighting in the rain while Solo charms the girl” scene at the end of “Dippy Blonde” -- far too comic.  Otherwise the humor is handled as the best of the original episodes did it: after the danger is past.

** “Blink and You’ll Miss It" Dept.: A snippet of Hugo Montenegro’s MfU Theme plays on the truck radio.

 

Best Lines:

Solo (to his CIA handler):  “You told me this was going to be a simple extraction. . . .  What was waiting for me was barely human.  It tore the back end off my car.”

Illya (after paralyzing a Vinciguerra guard with a special KGB blow, so that the victim remains on his feet while unconscious):  “Will be like this for . . . twenty minutes.  Can’t touch.”

Waverly (to Illya):  “For a special agent you’re not having a very special day, are you?”

Illya (softly, to the unconscious Gaby Teller):  “Sleep well, little chop-shop girl.”

Illya (about Solo’s fence-cutting tool):  “What is that?”

Solo:  “Super-hardened boron, sharpened with a CO2 laser.”  [He watches Illya’s glowing device melt its way through the fence links]  What’s that?”

Illya:  “CO2 laser. . . .  Coming?”

Solo:  “Absolutely hate working with you, Peril.” (Solo dubs Illya “The Red Peril” early on, and calls him that with one exception throughout)

Illya:  “You’re a terrible spy, Cowboy.”

And the exchange that perfectly captures the spirit of “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.”:

(Solo and Illya watch as Gabby’s Uncle Rudi, Victoria’s expert torturer, who has been complaining while torturing Solo of “a glitch” in the wiring of his electrical torture chair, burns up in said chair)

Illya:  “He found the glitch.”

Solo:  “Damn.  I left my jacket in there. . . .”

What still draws people to "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." after 50 years?

Welcome!  If you've found this site through another, or via a search on "Man from U.N.C.L.E." or "Vaughn" or "McCallum," you've come to the right place.

What makes this series so special to so many fans, after five decades?

In some ways, the same things that drew me to it at age 11: style, excitement, humor, likeable characters, the visual techniques like the act titles, whip pans, and fast cuts.  U.N.C.L.E. holds up better in regard to pacing than many shows of that time period -- or in some cases, of today.

Of course, when you're 11, there's a lot you don't know about the world yet.  You're eager to probe the adult mysteries.  And U.N.C.L.E. provided my 11-year-old self with a window on an adult world that I found glamorous then, and enjoy now.

I'd like to think that even today, somewhere in New York and Paris and Buenos Aires, even in Tehran and Baghdad, there's a hidden chrome-and-gunmetal outpost staffed by dedicated men and women who stand between us and disaster, working to keep the world from tearing itself apart.

If our world isn't like MfU's (and I have to admit, sadly, that it's not), then, darnit, it should be!

I recommend that you start with the first episode here and work your way forward to the last episode and the 1983 reunion TV movie, "The Return of the Man from U.N.C.L.E.:  The Fifteen Years Later Affair."  Or you can start with the movie (click "Older posts" below) and work your way back in time.

Either way, I'm sure you'll become a major U.N.C.L.E. fan.  Comments welcome.  Enjoy!

August 2015:  As I'm sure you've heard by now, the new film, directed by Guy Ritchie of "Sherlock Holmes" fame, debuts on August 14.  The trailer and other details we've found so far makes me, and many other fans, very hopeful that we will have an U.N.C.L.E. for a new generation!  (My nightmare: Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson as Solo and Illya, two bumbling spies for an underfunded U.S. intelligence agency, with Kevin James ["King of Queens," "Mall Cop"] as Mr. Waverly.  The mind reels. . . .)

(Pics drawn from various places around the Web.  All credit to the original posters!)

"The Fifteen Years Later Affair," or Nostalgia Ain't What It Used to Be

So our favorite TV agents, Solo and Illya, are back.  From what I gather, fan opinions on this one are mixed, with “love” and “hate” running neck and neck.  (Okay, “hate” surges ahead on the final turn by the clubhouse.)  When "The Return of the Man from U.N.C.L.E." first aired in the spring of 1983, I was working nights, and called in sick to watch it, since I had no VCR.  For some reason -- probably the fact that Season One was a good 18 years in the past at that point -- I proclaimed that it was much like a first season show, which I wince to recall now that I’ve actually seen those episodes again.  But “Fifteen Years” has more than a few points to enjoy.

First we have to get through the initial 45 minutes, in which we meet our villains (good), catch up with Solo (poor) and Illya (fun), get a cameo by a certain Aston Martin-driving British agent (gack!), and have our heroes meet again after 15 years (cool!). 

What it suffers from most is a lack of . . . well, confidence.  Yes, it appears cheap.  The “new” U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters consists of a hallway with a new logo, a London club-style office for Sir John with a computer bank in it, and the new Heckler & Koch Special; and that’s about all.  Sure, the original series had budget constraints too.  Somehow, though, it made us believe in Sam Rolfe’s micro-world, tailor shop, reception room, steely corridors, and all.  This production appears to be trying to convince us, and trying too hard. 

I love the bit with Del Floria’s new owner.  It echoes Solo’s confusion when he can’t get into HQ in Peter Allan Fields’s “Foxes and Hounds” in Season Two.  But we needed to see the toy shop, see Solo enter the new complex and react to it.  (I understand that was filmed, and cut for running time.)

Things accelerate right at the 45:00 mark, as Illya rappels down the hotel face to Thrushman Kemp’s window . . . and suddenly, despite the ravages of time on our heroes’ faces, it’s 1966 again and they are clicking on all cylinders.  Illya’s hilarious-and-tense turn as a Russian immigrant phone tech as he rifles Kemp’s briefcase, and the scene in the computer room at HQ, as the beholstered Illya dials in to Thrush’s phone line and they analyze what they know, could both have come straight from the old days.  “Illya . . .”  (Solo's “Be careful” is implied.)  “I will if you will.”  And Illya’s turn as the Cockney pilot is another gem.

More good stuff:  the casting of Patrick Macnee as the Command's new commander (though he has little screen time), and a nod to the gone-but-not-forgotten Mr. Waverly. 

Oddly, Vaughn looks younger and trimmer in the bush jacket than he does in tuxedo or dark suit.  In the “old days,” as Kowalski puts it, it was the reverse.  Speaking of Kowalski, Tom Mason does a good if thankless job showing us how the quality of Command agents has declined since Solo and Illya’s heyday. 

The climax at the dam, with Solo slipping in past the usual comatose Thrush guards and the task force bearing down in speedboats, is exciting, with a visual sweep we rarely got in the original series.  (Though I question that the Command force would be able to pick off the defenders so easily.  There was a reason those medieval fortresses proved popular.)  Illya’s faceoff with Janus below the reactor in Chicago works well too.  Yes, we saw this time-running-out payoff many times in the Sixties and Seventies, especially on “Star Trek,” but director Ray Austin handles the cuts well.

Long-time fan and pro technical wizard Bob Short -- who, thankfully, steered writer-producer Michael Sloan into giving the film what true U.N.C.L.E. flavor it often displays -- appears here, at 1:16:43, about to be slugged by Solo: 

At the last, the quiet tag scene is a tribute to both actors and their characters.

One of the biggest complaints fans have about “Return” is that it reunites Solo and Illya, and then almost immediately sends them off in separate directions so they get little screen time together.  However, as we’ve seen, this was a standard script ploy in the series, not always in poor episodes.  Think of “Ultimate Computer,” “Nowhere,” “Four Steps,” “Prince of Darkness,” and “Master’s Touch.”

Verdict:  Despite many old-style music cues and the whip-pan effect, despite some crafty lines, it’s not U.N.C.L.E. at its best.  There are moments like the JB interlude that make us wince, and the slant is often more Bondian than it should be.  And let’s be honest with ourselves.  Vaughn and McCallum, though they’ve aged well, aren’t the youthful, dazzlingly good-looking guys we admired, and still do admire.  This is disappointing, and may be at the core of why so many fans feel let down . . . but the script wisely acknowledges this and plays off it.  Which, together with the humor, puts "Fifteen Years" head and shoulders above most "reunion" TV movies!

Memorable Lines:
Solo (at Caesar’s Palace, when his communicator suddenly sounds):  “New battery . . . in my pacemaker.”

Solo (to New York cabbie):  “Del Floria’s Tailor Shop, Second and Fortieth.”

Del Floria’s New Owner:  “Your uncle used to live in the back of a tailor shop?  Well, I guess apartments is pretty tough to find.  Where do you live -- the basement of the Pan Am Building?”

Solo (to Illya):  “How about a hot dog?”
Illya:  “Not up to your usual culinary standards, is it?”

Solo:  “[Sepheran’s plan] will totally destroy our energy program.”
Illya:  “How’s he going to do that?”
Solo:  “Well, that’s for us to find out.  For the sake of the world.”
Illya:  “Don’t throw ‘the world’ at me. . . .  How often did we save it?”
Solo:  “Constantly, as I recall.”

Illya (having agreed to work for the Command again):  “You must have been pretty sure of your persuasive rhetoric.”
Solo:  “No, just your sense of morality.”
Illya (wryly): “Oh, that old thing.”

Illya (as they stroll through the corridor of the new HQ):  “[The agents are a]ll men.  What happened to the beautiful girls who used to work for U.N.C.L.E.?”
Solo:  “They’re in the U.N.C.L.E. Home.”

Solo (trying to be funny as Z introduces the explosive bullets):  “Well, if the elevator doors don’t open on time, I promise to contain myself.”  (She eyes him, deadpan)  “What happened to the special U.N.C.L.E. guns we used to carry?”
Z (without missing a beat):  “They’re in the special U.N.C.L.E. wing of the Smithsonian.”

Illya (as the phone tech, loudly, to Kemp):  “Who you think you are, waving a gun at me?  This is New York!  And here we wave guns at each other!  We don’t need foreigners coming to do it!” 

Illya (as the outraged tech):  “I tell you both!  From telephone company you will be hearing!”

Innocent Pennington-Smythe (as he and Illya dangle from a pipe):  “You’ve been in this situation before.”
Illya:  “Frequently.”
P-S.:  “How’d you get out of it then?”
Illya:  “I carried an explosive charge in my watch.”
P-S.:  “Where do you carry it now?”
Illya:  “In my shoe.”
P-S. (astonished):  “What’d they change it for?”
Illya:  “Progress.”

Solo:  “This all seemed a lot easier fifteen years ago.”
Illya (with a weary chuckle):  “It was.”

(By the way, the screen grabs here are mine, so any complaints about the quality should come to me and not to Lisa!)

Summing Up: Season Four, The Awards

On the whole, the back-to-basics approach from Season Four producer Anthony Spinner worked. (Given a choice between fluff like "Jingle Bells" and a dark-toned mystery like "J for Judas," I'll go for the latter every time.)  Even the best episodes this year lacked some of the sparkle that graced the best of Seasons One and Two.  But on Spinner's watch, U.N.C.L.E. regained much of its strength and occasionally prefigured the grimmer tone of today's movie and TV spy thrillers.

Now, my coveted Silver Communicator Awards.  Feel free to join in with your own winners and losers:

Best in Show: "Summit Five," "Deadly Quest," "Maze"

Best Performance by Robert Vaughn: "Man from Thrush"

Best Performance by David McCallum: "Gurnius"

Most Important to the U.N.C.L.E. Universe: "Summit Five," "Survival School"

Best Innocent: Sheila van Tillson, "Deadly Quest" (the best of a rather dull lot)

Best Villains: Viktor Karmak, "Deadly Quest"; Harry Beldon, "Summit Five"


Most Colorful: "Prince of Darkness"

A for Atmosphere: "Deadly Quest"

And the Tarnished Medals go to:

Dullest: "Fiery Angel," "Gurnius"

Weakest: "Seven Wonders" (sadly, a poor final note for the series to go out on)

"The Seven Wonders of the World Affair, Part II" (ep. 4/16)

"And now, the end is near;/ And so [we] face the final curtain . . ." The last episode of the series opens with George Fenneman, once Groucho Marx's announcer, summarizing the events of Part I.

More neat visual shots here: the conference room with the Himalayan peaks in the distance; a focus on first Kingsley, then the General, up through the glass table, so that the telephones seem to float in mid-air; again Kingsley's vast installation, invoking Shangri-La in "Lost Horizon"; the white-robed acolytes peering down at Solo.

Erikson's daughter Anna is a step above a lot of the blonde Innocents we've seen.  Despite our being told she's a teenager, she seems older and more mature, at least in the scenes at Kingsley's installation, and is level-headed enough to shoot one of the white robe guys.

The scene where Solo attempts to convince the other experts to bail on Kingsley's plan is remarkable for the series.  Like Captain Shark,  the antagonist is not an evil monster, displaying his grandiose plan to Solo as a prelude to killing him.  Kingsley the deluded idealist is trying to win Solo over to his side.  It gives writer Hudis a chance to bring up some ethical questions.

As sometimes with the two-parters destined to be movies, though, we get very little actual time for Solo and Illya.  I'd have liked to hear them talking in the guest quarters before Kingsley's men take them out to be gassed.  Here, even more than in "Bridge of Lions," they seem like minor figures dwarfed by the titanic events roaring over their heads.

Something about the way Kingsley's and Erikson's hands scrabble over the white buttons on their control panel is almost funny -- which I'm sure the actors and director didn't intend.

Thankfully, the voiceover -- "The seemingly endless battle against evil . . . the battle ends once and for all in favor of good" -- that introduces the final scene is a quote from Kingsley to Solo, spoken earlier, as if Solo is remembering.  Having a nameless narrator tell us this would have been awkward and confusing. 

Verdict:  Though a weak entry, vastly unlike any previous story, it makes a definite statement about the nature of man and leaves us with powerful images: the shattered control dome at 49:21, looking like a Forties cover for Astounding Science Fiction; the General an expressionless robot, waiting for orders (and reminding us of what humanity has escaped); the corpses in the control room; Kingsley tenderly arraying the body of the wife who has betrayed him . . .

Memorable Lines:
Kingsley: "General, you are a strange mixture.  You pursue a merciful ideal . . . mercilessly."

Solo: "Your plan denies humanity its freedom to find its own way to better times. . . .  Professor Garrow, you're a geneticist.  Your life work is the biological improvement of man.  Will you pervert that science into the creation of a -- a generation of robots?"

Kingsley: "Join us, leading a new world.  Let there be eight wonders."
Solo: "In your new world, Kingsley, there won't be any wonder."

Margitta (to her husband): "Don't look so startled, Robert.  Where else did you think I raised a hundred million dollars?  An overdraft at a drive-in bank?"

Margitta: "Humanity is dirt.  And it always will be."

General: "And don't call me Shirley."
(Oops, wrong movie --!)

"The Seven Wonders of the World Affair, Part I" (ep. 4/15)

The penultimate episode . . . ah me, oh my . . .

Right at the start we plunge into a gunfight at Thrushman Webb's HQ.  It takes a while to figure out what's going on, but scripter Norman Hudis and director Sutton Roley are painting on a big canvas here, so we need to be patient.  In the meantime the story moves, and we get wonderful action shots like Webb's leap into the cockpit of Mrs. Kingsley's Jaguar E-Type.

At last, something we've wanted to see for so long: a regional U.N.C.L.E. officer, Grant, played here by Hugh Marlowe, with an exercise bike (?) in his office.  He's completely unimpressed by the two hotshots from New York, huh?

Margitta Kingsley and Mr. Webb don't seem to have much to do with the installation behind the meat plant.  They spend a lot of time lazing around Webb's red-carpeted office, smoking cigarettes and smiling suggestively to each other.  Neat, though, when she plugs Mr. Veeth and Miss Carla from Thrush.  That's one way of eliminating pesky competition.

When Solo and Illya approach the ship with Anna Erikson on board, and the officer with the deck machine gun shoots at them, it would have been smart of them to simply hang back astern.  They'd have been shielded by the cabins and wheelhouse.

Another drunken ship captain, as in Hudis's Season Three "Bottle of Rum"!  One point, though:  He couldn't have touched the searing-hot barrel of the just-fired deck gun without burning his hand.  What happened to him and his crew when Kingsley and Erikson left the ship?  Also, where is the ship -- off Hong Kong?  If Anna was in Berlin, it would have made more sense for her to fly directly to the vicinity of Kingsley's Seven Wonders installation, and for her father to meet her there.

The disappearances of Kingsley's other six Wonders, and the theft of personal items, harkens back to "The Shark Affair."  Yes, why would you need a public-relations man?  Once the world's been made docile, you won't have to convince people to buy, prefer, or vote for anything.  You'll just tell 'em what you want 'em to do.

Smart, and pro-active, of Solo and Illya to co-opt Dr. Garrow.  Unfortunately Kingsley sees through their plan.

The sequence as Solo's plane is hit and he bails out, and then staggers across the high desert, is exciting.

Verdict: One of the most vividly photographed episodes, almost humorless, considerably different in tone from everything that's gone before. (Cf. "Mad, Mad Tea Party" or "Ultimate Computer.")

Memorable Lines:

Illya: "How do you inject dignity into the word `help'?"

Steve Garrow: "It's Mr. Solo's plane. He must be dead."
Illya (clearly upset): "Listen, if you don't have anything positive to say, why don't you just keep quiet?"

"The Deep Six Affair" (ep. 4/14)

The last stand-alone episode brings back scripter Leonard Stadd ("Maze") and character actor Alfred Ryder, this time as the clever, tricky Commander Krohler.  "Deep Six" shows the series was really getting its legs under it and starting to take off again.

We open with Illya in Disguise as he shuffles in to retrieve those all-important submarine plans -- and there was something else, what was it?  Oh yes, save Solo and top English agent Brian Morton.  The flash dazzler Illya uses to get Solo and Morton out is great, as are his single-shot cane, their rescue by the chauffeur, and the squeals of horror from the London matrons as the Thrushes shoot at their fleeing Rolls.

Now I know a teeny bit about submarines.  The best atomic subs of those days in our world could only do about 20 to 25 knots submerged, and their depth limits were around 1300 feet. This 60-knot new one sounds like the Starship Enterprise-D in comparison; no wonder Thrush wants it.

Why is Waverly dealing with Morton's resignation and checking out (read: trying to torpedo) his relationship with Laura Adams?  Seems to me that's the job of either the London HQ chief (Morton's immediate boss) or the Continental Chief for Europe.  Certainly someone would have been appointed by now to take over for Harry Beldon.

Morton comes off as rather impressed with himself, worse than Solo by a long shot, but strong and determined to rescue his fiancée.  However, I can't see Waverly keeping him on, even in Antarctica, after what he's done.  If Waverly

was ready to detrain George Dennell ("Waverly Ring") for a much smaller breach of security, I'd think he'd have shaken Morton's hand and said, "Do let us know how you're getting on in your future endeavors."  (Yes, George's detraining was fake, but no one in that story seemed to think it was unwarranted -- which suggests it was standard procedure.)

This time out, the "What the heck is going on here?" occurs in Act I, as Illya, who apparently does not dislike cats, uses one to set up a diversion at the sub's shipyard.  (And just how did he retrieve Puss after the alarums and excursions were over?)

The moment in the hotel room when Solo balks at Waverly's instructions to delve into Laura's personal life, like the clash between them in "Concrete Overcoat," is startling.  Solo and Illya almost never question Waverly's orders.  It's a pleasant surprise, too, as in "Bridge of Lions," to see Waverly come prepared with an escape device.

The entire sequence in which Morton photographs the sub plans and outmaneuvers Solo and Illya is well done.  Not only is Solo not taken in by Morton, but Illya tumbles right away to Solo's bug-planting.  Smart stuff.

Morton drives one of the most gorgeous autos ever made, a left-hand-drive Mercedes 220SE or 250SE convertible.  We saw this one, or one like it, in "Round Table."  An expensive collector's item now, it wasn't cheap even then.  Unless he bought that beauty used, Morton must have some money of his own.

Nice that we actually get to see the sub everybody's been howling about.  It's roomier than the Seaview -- that bridge is huge.

The odd thing about this story is that, in the end, there is no Innocent.  Laura appears to be one until the end of Act III, when she reveals herself as a Thrush.  Perhaps this is one of those odd cases, as Dr. Cindy has mentioned, where one of the agents, in this case Morton, moves into the Innocent role.

Verdict: A fast-paced pure spy story, with a McGuffin that recalls the Sherlock Holmes story "The Bruce-Partington Plans."

Memorable Lines:
Brian Morton (dryly, to Commander Krohler): "Undoubtedly your man got caught in the London traffic.  It may be days before he arrives."

Solo: "Did you know I was the top U.N.C.L.E. agent in North America?"
(Cute -- but as Section Two, Number One, of course he would be considered the top agent!)

Waverly: "[Mr. Solo] has intelligence, verve, physical prowess; a kind of man most women would find very attractive."
Solo: "I thank you, sir."
Waverly: "But probably the worst possible candidate for marriage."
(Solo's discomfited look:  priceless)

Illya (to Solo, as they sit alone in Waverly's office after the latter says that Command agents make poor marriage material): "We have each other. . . ."
(This would have made a good last line for the entire series!)

"The Maze Affair" (ep. 4/13)

One of the best of this year, “Maze” is swift-paced and tricky: a reverse “Mission: Impossible” where we see just how clever Thrush can be, and with some real suspense at the climax.

The interior scenes at HQ are colorful, and really give us the impression we are looking at a busy nerve center.  Plus the entire demolition sequence is quite futuristic-looking.  Apparently bomb disposal is a new, or experimental, job for Illya, yet it matches with what we’ve been shown before.

Solo smartly circumvents the “security” at Febray Electronics and even checks the bona fides of the “generals.”  When we look back, we realize Thrush must have arranged the weak defenses -- made them look good enough to pass, but not truly effective.  The desk guard must really be dense, though, not to wonder at Solo showing up in a suit to check  the A/C!

We have to ask just when Febray and Barnes put this plan together.  No time elapses between the first attempt to bomb Command HQ and the mission involving the “molecutronic gun” (I wish they’d found a more elegant name for it!).  So their scam must already have been in motion at the time of the abortive attempt, since during it Solo and Illya are in Waverly’s office discussing the gun.  Yet the teaser scene with Barnes and his assistant implies they had a lot riding on this attempt, and they need to go back to the drawing board.

Second, Waverly might risk himself leading an assault force, but he certainly shouldn’t.  A fleet admiral commanding an aircraft carrier doesn’t take a plane up himself.

Third, how did Thrush “find” Febray?  Sure, they knew where he was; he was certainly reporting to them all along.  But Barnes & Co. were pretending they didn’t know.  How and why did Illya squeal?  It’s never implied they tortured him or drugged him.  Yet they must have, or he and Solo would have been wondering how Thrush located the good doctor.

The purpose of the dynamite Solo finds out in the desert is never explained.  We needed a line from him:  "So that's why you planted that dynamite -- to maintain the illusion that the gun actually worked."

Neat bits:  Illya crossing his fingers as he waits for the immersed bomb to go off; his knocking in a code pattern on the hotel door; the shadowy lighting in Waverly’s office as they examine the desert map, and later in the lab; the leather-jacketed Illya paying only $1.94 to pump five or six (?) gallons of gas; and town names like Vinegar Wells and Gossamer Flats.

High marks to scripter Leonard Stadd for not having Barnes mention early on that there is a “Mr. Big” somewhere.  It would have made us peer at and suspect all the guest characters, Febray included, and the revelation at the end of Act III would have been weakened. 

Abbe Melton is cute, but it is rather coincidental that Solo runs into her; and worse, she has no function except to pretend to faint at Solo’s direction and provide him with a safety pin.  Wouldn’t it have been neat if she’d been not a Daddy’s Princess but a tough-but-pretty rancher’s daughter who helps Solo survive the desert trek?  (“Watch out for rattlers, Mr. Solo.  Remember, they’re just as scared of you.”) 

We don’t get to see Illya conclude that the gun is actually a bomb.  We go from the staticky transmission, to Waverly suddenly ordering the demolition unit into action again.  I’d have liked it if we’d seen Illya zero in on some flaw in Thrush’s plan (perhaps wondering how they located Febray, as above), and leap to defuse the bomb.

(Peculiar . . . Disc Five has only two titles on it.  I suppose it’s so Disc Six can have both parts of “Seven Wonders” together -- but it reminds me of the night the last episode aired.  Instead of June Foray telling us that “Our man from U.N.C.L.E. will be back in a moment with a look at next week’s show,” there was only silence. . . .)

Verdict:  A twisty Season Two-like spy story with embedded surprises, a vivid look at HQ, and colorful desert locations to boot.

Memorable Lines:
Febray (examining Solo in exasperation):  “Just who are you?”
Solo (levelly):  “I’m Napoleon Solo . . . from U.N.C.L.E.”

Barnes:  “Are you suggesting that we simply kill you, Mr. Solo?”
Solo:  “Oh, no, no, no.  You can just let me off at the next bus stop.”

Waverly (scooping up the locator pin):  “Mr. Solo seems to have lost his tie tack.  I hope the same

can’t be said of his life. . . .”

Febray:  “. . . [T]hese childish games -- passing me off as a shah.”
Illya:  “I once passed myself off as a Tibetan lama.”

Illya:  “I always say, when you’re locked in an escape-proof room, it’s good to have a physicist with you."

Febray:  “I don’t know how to get to the M-5, Kirk; I really . . . do not know.”
(Oops, wrong TV series)