"The Tigers Are Coming Affair" (ep. 2/8)

A rather grim story, Alan Caillou's last script for the series is well done overall.  Having the "World Congress for Undeveloped Countries" bring U.N.C.L.E. in to investigate Prince Panat is smart. Obviously there would be other worldwide entities, not just Waverly's judgment, that would call our men into action, and not only in response to Thrush threats.

Strangely for a Caillou script, Illya is given very short shrift.  He has action scenes but very little dialogue, and no exchanges worth mentioning with Solo, who is clearly the boss.  It goes so far that another Enforcement agent character could have been substituted for Illya.  His absence from the first scene in Act I sets up a strange vibe that is reinforced by the lack of any dialogue at all between Illya and Suzanne.  (I suspect this was when David and Jill were divorcing?)  The Illya we know would have fired back a retort to Solo's "Try and look busy, all right?" kidding in Act II, or would have found a way to get his own back later.

The teaser is startling and effective, though I question whether a Chrysler Imperial convertible would make a good shooting brake, or would even be able to get around the country; we saw very few roads.  That faded Plymouth station wagon would work better.

Solo's floppy straw fedora (which he discards, thankfully, after one scene) and that neckerchief are a bit over the top.  You'd expect Panat to be hot; Illya's lightweight shirt and trousers seem much better suited to a subtropical climate than Solo's buttoned-up bush jacket.

The prince's plot, to use his own desperate people to mine his rubies, is devilish -- and efficient, too.  Why expend your resources rounding up unwilling workers (read: slaves) when you can get them to come to you, begging for work?  Lee Bergere's prince is a fascinatingly urbane sociopath.  To him, other people are not human, but merely tools, cheap robots, or obstacles in his path.

Baron Cosimo is really developing a meaningful relationship with his rifle.  Do we even need him and Drusilla in this story?

There's 10.5 hours' difference between New York and most of India.  If Solo calls Waverly in Act II at, say, 6:30 p.m. local time, that's 8 a.m. in New York; certainly the old warhorse would be at his desk.  In Act III, Waverly calls Solo in the middle of the Indian night, say about 4:30 p.m. NY time.  Then in Act IV, Solo calls him at a little past local dawn, say 6:30 a.m. Waverly is still there at 8 p.m. on the same day?  He's wearing a different suit in Act IV; perhaps he ducked home for an hour, napped, and changed.  (Still, I want some of whatever he smokes in those pipes of his!)

Speaking of calls, how do we account for the return of the cig-case boxes, when Solo and Illya have been using the new pen for the last few episodes?  Well, don't most new inventions have bugs in the early releases?  What we saw before was field testing, and now Section Four has yanked the pens back for "tweaking."

When the Prince and Col. Quillon (who seems a fine example of our modern term "useful idiot") have Solo, Illya, and Suzanne captive, we see Solo's heroism.  He doesn't hesitate to accede to the Prince's demand in order to save the lives of innocents. However, my big quibble with this story is with this scene.  Why does Waverly accept Solo's word alone that the Congress's delegation should come to Panat?  What about a little thing like, yanno, evidence?  Surely Waverly would want to know what Solo bases his judgment on.  And as with "Gazebo in the Maze," you'd think Solo would slip in a code word to inform Waverly that he and Illya are under enemy control.

The long and nearly dialogue-free escape from the mine emphasizes how well Solo and Illya work together. 

Verdict: Despite the sentencing of Illya to spear-carrier status and the annoying helplessness of Suzanne (except at the climax), a fast-moving and colorful story featuring a consistent villain and with a plausible reason for U.N.C.L.E. to investigate.

Memorable lines:
Solo (as the Sage reporter): "If you don't mind, Your Highness, jungle war stories are a dime a dozen today."
( -- Possibly the only reference the show ever made to a certain infamous war in Southeast Asia?)

Julali: "Upcountry is forbidden, sahib.  Men go there, they not come back.  Never."
Illya (calmly): "Then let's go and find out why."

Prince Panat: "The dacoits are very difficult to control.  They're much like the teenage problem in America, I should imagine."

Prince Panat: "Why, I can get fifty miles a day out of the average beater."
Solo (sotto voce): "Ask the man who owns one."
( -- A play on the famous ad slogan for Packard automobiles)

Solo (as they speed away from the dock, preparing to fire at the gleaming insecticide cans): "I think I see a silver turkey --!"

"The Giuoco Piano Affair" (ep. 1/7)

I never saw this one in first-run or its spring '65 rerun. This Alan Caillou script, along with a similar display of our heroes' brains in "Project Strigas" and "Fiddlesticks," is a blueprint for the kind of snares the Impossible Missions Force would lay for its targets two years hence.

In the opening scene, the U.N.C.L.E. Special Mark II makes its only appearance as a carbine with shoulder strap -- a very logical and necessary addition.

In the data room at U.N.C.L.E. HQ, Waverly kids Solo, giving us a hint that their relationship is slightly more than superior/operative, almost father/son. (Ha! You thought I was going to write "uncle/nephew," didn't you?) More important, when the young agent's voice tape cuts off, Solo and Waverly share a moment of silence for a fallen comrade.

Where in the Andes is Barridqua supposed to be? When I first saw the show, I presumed it was in Peru, but Chile also has resort areas wedged between the Pacific and the Andes. (Santiago, Chile, has a climate much like Southern California's, so having mountain/desert areas of CA stand in for South America works quite well here. In the mountain scenes, the clear hard skies give you the distinct feeling you are indeed at 10- or 12,000 feet.)

However, the aerial map Solo and Waverly inspect has water to its right, as though it were on the east coast of South America. Of course the aerial shot could be of an inland lake or bay -– such as the Golfo de Ancud, a little south of Santiago, and the Golfo de Guayquil, in Ecuador -- but then Solo would refer to the "shore" rather than the "coast."

The famous party scene has been discussed to the point of Extreme Unction.  I’ll merely add that Illya's telling Marion about Ravel and Bufferton (for the audience members who haven't seen "Quadripartite") is sorta clumsy. After all, she knows who they are: their partners almost killed her only a few months back.

This story marks the debut of the Illya we have come to admire and love: the cool, job-focused master of disguise, clearly Solo's equal partner (though the "Machiavellian" plot is all Solo's; Illya says so). Sparks fly in his exchanges with Marion as he tries to enlist her aid, and he has one memorable line. (Marion: "Will we see you [in Barridqua]?" Illya: "Well, I'll see you there.")

I like this Solo/Illya relationship better than the sometimes too edgy, impatient banter we get in later seasons. Here they seem to admire each other's abilities, and we have none of those "I should have known it was you; you were stumbling over your own feet" and "Your smoke signals were almost as illegible as your handwriting" jabs that they toss at each other later.

The carbine Bufferton uses is a "broomhandle" Mauser with shoulder stock -- a gun that might have helped to inspire the attachments for the Special guns. Lt. Manuera has one at the climax, too.

Bill Koenig, on his Episode Guide, has pointed out more than once the central irony of this story, that Bufferton says he will know that Gervaise loves him when she weeps at his grave . . . and then actually hears her weeping over him as he dies from Illya's bullet. This, Bufferton's love for Gervaise and her grief for him, makes them both more comprehensible (though not sympathetic), and gives them a human dimension that borders on tragedy. Antony and Cleopatra, indeed.

What military force is it that backs them up at the climax -- Federal troops of the country they're in? I don't think we ever heard. 

A wonderful tag, with Solo reaching for one "for the road."

Verdict: a fine sequel to "Quadripartite."  With its witty dialogue and clever tricky plot, it's a good one to show someone who's curious about MfU, but not yet a fan.

Great Lines:
Marion: "Two words: Balder Dash!"

Marion (to Solo): "You're nothing but a whirling mass of plots and schemes!"

Bufferton: "Your assurance borders on the arrogant."
Solo: "You know, I used to worry a lot about that, until I realized it only offended people such as yourself."

"The Quadripartite Affair" (ep. 1/3)

A lively script that I don't think I saw in first run.   In about '83 or '84, someone brought a tape of this one to an SF convention, and jittery and poor quality though the tape was, I watched it avidly.   It was my first "new" "original" U.N.C.L.E. in 15 years.

Jill Ireland was the loveliest woman . . . and I've always loved Anne Francis.   Odd to see her play a baddie.  MfU fan Bill Koenig has pointed out that Caillou's vision of Ravel and Bufferton was as a modern Cleopatra and Antony; very apt.

I want to be Ivy League Solo, in his collegiate Harris tweed jacket and dark slacks, and the later Yacht Club Solo, in his double-breasted blazer with the crest on it.  If I ever get the chance to be reincarnated and can pick my body, I'll simply say, "As Robert Vaughn when he did 'The Quadripartite Affair.'   Oh, and can I have rich parents, too?"

This is Illya's first chance to shine.  He seems rather young and boyish, especially around Marion.  At least we get to see the fear gas at work; in the much later "Alexander the Greater," the will gas is nothing but a McGuffin.

That scene in Waverly's office in Act II is needs more visuals; it wouldn't fly today.  Otherwise, the script fairly hustles -- from Yugoslavia to HQ and then Marion's apartment in NY, Solo's daring daylight rescue of Marion from the yacht, then off to Yugoslavia again.

Richard Anderson's Col. Pattner seems awfully indecisive for a career military officer.   He spends a good deal of Act IV standing and staring around him.  Maybe the "Colonel" was a courtesy title, or maybe he didn't have much field experience.  Or maybe he's just not used to the kind of two-man assault force that is Solo and Illya.

I did wonder, however, how Illya and Marion escaped from the high-ceilinged room.  Illya could have boosted Marion up to Solo, but then how did Illya get up?  We saw no rope.  And then, we see Solo start to go back down into the room.  Why bring Illya and Marion up, if they were just going to go down to toss the fear gas among Pattner's men while making their escape?

Also, the Ravel/Bufferton/Pattner coalition has nothing to do with Thrush, but Pattner's men wear the jumpsuits and berets that are later associated with Thrush foot soldiers.

I understand the idea was floated of combining this one and "Giuoco Piano," both written by Alan Caillou, into a movie.  A tiny bit of bridging material, to show the passage of time while Solo and Illya search fruitlessly for Ravel and Bufferton, and we'd have been off to the races.

Verdict: When I want to show somebody what MfU was like at its best and most fully realized, I'll get him to watch this and "Giuoco Piano" back-to-back.  (Along with "Mad, Mad Tea Party," "Project Strigas," and "Fiddlesticks.")

Memorable Line:

Heather: "She [Gervaise Ravel] is classified as 'dangerous.'"
Solo: "A beautiful woman should always be so classified."