Napoleon and Mr. Waverly, resplendent in their finest
athleisure wear, play a few holes on a golf course while Illya, clad in his usual
cheap black suit, grimly caddies for them. They’re killing time while waiting
to meet with a beatnik artist-cum-THRUSH scientist named Coplin (Tommy Farrell),
who wants to sell his latest fiendish device to U.N.C.L.E.
Coplin arrives and shows off his invention: It’s an
aerosolized gas that causes lethal hiccups. THRUSH is ready to begin
mass-producing the gas, but Coplin, who has yet to be paid for his work, is
willing to double-cross his employers if U.N.C.L.E. ponies up enough cash. As
negotiations begin, an explosives-laced golf ball lands nearby, which sends
everyone diving for cover. Two shaggy-haired counterculture THRUSH agents (who
are unconvincingly costumed as beatniks in newsboy caps and brightly patterned
shirts; the costume department has nothing to feel especially proud about here)
zip up in a golf cart and open fire; Illya whips out his golf bag, which
doubles as a cannon, and kills them both. In the melee, a bullet punctures the
aerosol can containing the gas; Coplin accidentally inhales the contents and hiccups
himself to death.
Hmm. Murderous beatniks, fatal hiccups, exploding golf balls,
a golf bag that can be used as a cannon... Hey, just for fun, can you guess
which season this episode hails from? Did you guess season three? You did, didn’t
you?
Yes. It’s from season three. Yippee. I don’t hate season three, not in the way I hate
the lazy, dour, half-assed mess that is season four, but the nonstop trying-too-hard
zaniness can sure get exhausting.
Waverly gives Napoleon and Illya their new assignment: Stop
THRUSH from manufacturing the hiccup gas. Coplin originally contacted Waverly
from the payphone at a beatnik-friendly coffeehouse in Greenwich Village called
the Golden Spike, so Waverly asks Illya, U.N.C.L.E.’s resident longhaired Beat
Generation ambassador, to head over there and blend in with the locals.
So Illya dons one of his turtlenecks, which he pairs with
some truly unfortunate flip-flops and a garish pendant looted from Coplin’s
body, and hangs out at the coffeehouse. He flashes photos of Coplin’s corpse
around while spewing out weird quasi-beatnik phrases (“You look like you know
what’s shaking. I’m after this cat. He
chuffed me on a deal”) and acting twitchy and stoned off his gourd. It’s the hardest-hitting
small-screen depiction of Beat culture this side of The Monkees.
While searching for information about Coplin, Illya
encounters a peppy young beatnik/struggling artist named Sylvia (former
Mouseketeer Sherry Alberoni). Instantly smitten, she gushes about his “Dostoyevsky
eyes” while sketching a hilariously unflattering portrait of him.
The coffeehouse owner calls up Mark Olé (Robert H. Harris),
a THRUSH honcho who runs an art gallery across the street from the Golden Spike,
to tell him Illya is wearing Coplin’s pendant, which contains a catalyzer
crucial to the production of the hiccup gas. Despite being an uncharismatic,
unpleasant, unappealing wretch of a human being, Olé has a beautiful and
devoted young girlfriend, Mari (Sabrina Scharf), who, we are told repeatedly,
is the world’s leading model, whom he constantly insults and berates. The
gender politics in this episode are something less than fabulous. I expect more
from THRUSH, frankly.
Those guys hanging out in the background around Olé? Yeah,
those are THRUSH beatniks. I know! My snotty comment about The Monkees was more apropos than you thought, right? Here are some
more THRUSH beatniks:
Oh, for crying out loud. I’m cringing from secondhand
embarrassment. Try harder, wardrobe
department! And it must be asked: Why would beatniks—counterculture, anti-materialistic,
often pro-communist—be working for a global terrorist organization with no
political ideals beyond the relentless amassing of money and power? What’s the appeal
there?
…I’m overthinking this episode, aren’t I?
Lured in by a painting of an aerosol can resembling the one
that contained the hiccup gas, Illya detours into the gallery. He contacts
Napoleon, who, in the absence of anything substantive to do on this current
assignment, is hanging out at headquarters, putting the moves on the cute agent
manning the switchboard. While filling Napoleon in on his findings, Illya is
attacked by a gaggle of THRUSH beatniks. He bolts out of the gallery and dashes
back into the coffeehouse.
And the episode stops dead in its tracks for a while as
Illya performs a little improvised slam poetry.
Illya manages to slip the pendant to Sylvia before the goons
club him over the head and carry him out of the coffeehouse. Sylvia calls
U.N.C.L.E. headquarters looking for Illya; Napoleon fields her call and agrees
to meet her at the Golden Spike, where she fills him in on the attack on his
partner.
In a back room of the gallery, THRUSH goons tie up Illya and
slap him around a while. The usual, in other words. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.
Acting on a tip from Sylvia, Napoleon heads to the gallery
in search of his missing partner. When Sylvia drops by, Olé notices she’s
wearing Coplin’s pendant. As soon as
Napoleon and Sylvia leave, a pair of beatniks attempt to murder them by hurling
skateboards with razor-sharp blades embedded in the tips in their general
direction. Napoleon is unfazed by this nitwittery.
With the pendant in Sylvia’s possession, THRUSH has no more
use for Illya. Olé attempts to kill him by, ahem, flooding the back room of the
gallery with soap bubbles. Napoleon breaks into the gallery and saves Illya before
he’s smothered to death by bubbles.
I’m trying with
this episode, but the unrelenting deluge of zaniness is breaking my spirit.
Aha! We then have a scene delightful enough to give my
flagging spirits a much-needed bounce: Illya and Napoleon hang out in Napoleon’s
car, where they discuss the need to find Sylvia before Olé and his goons get to
her. Napoleon offhandedly mentions that he knows where Sylvia lives. “I took
her home,” he says smugly, dripping with maximum eyebrow-waggling innuendo. “You
would,” Illya replies, his tone filled with blistering contempt. Also, just
FYI, Illya is changing out of his wet clothes while this little exchange takes
place. So basically it’s a scene where Illya gets naked while Napoleon callously implies
that he shagged a naïve young woman just to get a rise out of his partner. This is the sort of thing I watch U.N.C.L.E. for. Not for unconvincing
beatniks. Not for exploding golf balls. This.
Illya and Napoleon arrive at Sylvia’s apartment, where they
find her spacey roommate Heidi (Lynn Carey) bound to a chair: Olé and his goons got there first and ransacked
the place in search of the pendant. Heidi recognizes Illya on sight—“Sylvia
told me about your Dostoyevsky eyes”—but has no idea where to find her roommate.
She figures Sylvia is either visiting her parents in Great Neck, or hanging out
with her beatnik chums at Harmonica Lake. Heidi offers to fix Illya and Napoleon
breakfast before they leave; Napoleon turns her down by saying, “We’ll graze in
your pasture later,” which sounds flat-out pornographic. I’m not at all sure it
wasn’t intended that way.
Really, I don’t mean to insult this very attractive actress
(I say immediately before insulting this very attractive actress), but damn, Heidi is the spitting image of
Andy Samberg.
Napoleon stops by Sylvia’s childhood home and hangs out with
her overly-eager mother and her creepy, beatnik-loathing dad. He pickpockets
the pendant, which Sylvia left behind during her visit, then gets kidnapped outside
the house by Olé’s beatnik goons.
Meanwhile, Illya heads up to Harmonica Lake and witnesses
beatniks doing beatnikky stuff. You know, like groping each other, and smelling
grass, and eating wheat germ, and… I dunno, doing headstands? Do beatniks do
headstands? With one finger on the pulse of America’s youth, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. bravely blazes a
path into the future.
At the lake, Illya discovers Sylvia has been making copies
of the pendant and selling them on the cheap. Which isn’t really so much being
an artist as it is committing blatant idea theft and copyright infringement,
but hey, a girl’s got to make a living. While searching for Sylvia, Illya
dangles upside-down a from a tree and harasses beatniks. That particular
beatnik there is played by writer Stanley Ralph Ross, who contributed scripts
for The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
throughout season three. Ross was also a staff writer on the uber-campy 1960s Batman series and wrote episodes of,
yes, The Monkees, so if you’ve been looking
for a reason for the weird tonal shift this series took in season three, you
may have your answer.
Back at the gallery, Olé learns that the pendant Napoleon
swiped from Sylvia’s parents is a copy. He flies into a rage and hurls insults
at Mari for showing the first signs of aging (“Remember, I keep only flawless
works of art!”), then orders her to kill Napoleon. Napoleon goes with the flow
and hurls more insults at poor beleaguered Mari (“He never regarded you as
anything more than a life-sized Kewpie doll!”), then wrestles the gun away from
her and escapes.
THRUSH beatniks attack Sylvia and try to steal the pendant,
Illya comes to her rescue, and… well, long story short, Illya and Sylvia end up
escaping in a hot-air balloon. Oh, why
not?
While piloting the balloon, Illya gets shot in the neck.
This barely slows him down, but the bullet also punctures the balloon, so
they’re forced to land.
Illya and Sylvia are taken to Olé’s lair. Now that Sylvia’s
pendant is in his possession, Olé can manufacture hiccup gas to his heart’s
content. He cackles and promises to have both Illya and Sylvia killed as soon
as he perfects the gas. Illya, by the way, is really holding up quite well for
a man who just got shot in the neck. “We Kuryakins have an amazing aptitude for
recovery,” he tells Sylvia gravely.
Left alone with Illya, Sylvia harbors fond hopes of a quick
makeout session before dying. Illya, naturally, looks utterly baffled by this
concept.
Yep. He took a bullet in that very side of his neck one
scene ago. “An amazing aptitude for recovery” is one thing, but this is
downright magical. Maybe Illya is a
supernatural creature, or a self-healing cyborg. Either would explain a lot,
actually.
Oh, and then Olé murders Mari with the hiccup gas, because
she’s starting to develop crow’s feet. Nope. This scene flat-out doesn’t work.
There’s too much tonal disconnect with the rest of the episode. In an episode
this goofy and campy, you can have Illya slaughter a couple of THRUSH goons
with a golf-bag cannon; that’s fine. You can’t
have a villain murder his harmless girlfriend for being insufficiently hot. It’s
jarring.
Napoleon arrives and rescues Illya and Sylvia. Illya and
Napoleon destroy the hiccup gas contraption, then kill Olé by crushing him with
a giant piece of pop art. They celebrate the successful completion of their mission
by browbeating Mr. Waverly into paying too much for Sylvia’s mediocre
sculpture.
Speaking of mediocre… Clever readers will have read between
the lines and deduced that this is maybe not my favorite episode (and yet it is one of my favorite season-three episodes.
Scary, huh?). It’s not without its selling points: Sylvia is bubbly and adorable,
and Vaughn and McCallum have their usual outstanding chemistry together. But it’s
the usual problem with season three: The script is no good. Whether by accident or design, all of The Man From U.N.C.L.E.’s powerhouse
writers were sidelined during this season: Alan Caillou left after the first
year, Dean Hargrove wrote no third-season scripts, and the great Peter Allan Fields contributed a single episode, the epic and decidedly non-goofy “Concrete Overcoat Affair”, which is the sparkling jewel in season three’s battered
crown. “The Pop Art Affair” can’t measure up.
Comments
It’s so weird that yeah, one of the MOST epic episodes - The Concrete Overcoat Affair, is from season three!