Rumpole's Return

Rumpole's Return was a one-off Christmas special broadcast in December 1980, between seasons two and three of Rumpole of the Bailey. At a little over twice the length of a regular episode, it has room for several subplots and even - a rarity for Rumpole - an action sequence.

Rumpole begins the special unhappily retired and living with his family in the USA, but he soon finds an excuse to Return to his chambers to get involved with the main plot - a seemingly unwinnable murder. New barrister Ken Cracknell has taken Rumpole's place in his old chambers and thinks the way to be rid of Rumpole for good is for him to take on and lose this defence brief.

The murder itself involves a religious cult based in the USA, with a certain resemblance to Scientology - I have to assume this was a topical reference, with Scientology being in the news around the time this was made thanks to the 1978 court case United States v Hubbard. What with Rumpole being back in the UK, he enlists the help of his son Nick to investigate the American headquarters of the Not Scientologists, resulting in a scene where Nick has to escape from their compound. The recasting of Nick from his original actor David Yelland to the more overtly athletic Ian Gelder makes a bit more sense with this scene in mind, though it is equally possible that Yelland was simply unavailable at the time.

A subplot about Rumpole defending a "dirty books" case on behalf of guest actor Alan Lake (Chel in Aftermath, which was made the same year as this) seems to further undermine his confidence when he loses the case, and this takes yet another knock when the murder trial begins and Rumpole sees the judge presiding is none other than his old nemesis, Judge Bullingham. This is probably the Mad Bull's most antagonistic and most memorable appearance in the series - not a coincidence that the two go together.

Placed here after only the first two seasons, when Rumpole was still occasionally seen to lose important cases, it's just about credible that his pulling off a magnificent win under such circumstances might still be a surprise to audiences, but had it come any later in the series then it wouldn't have been - the appeal of Rumpole is now becoming not if he will win his case, but how will he? It's difficult to pinpoint exactly when the transition is made, but Rumpole's Return is as good a point as any other.

In spite of the name promising us further adventures of Horace Rumpole, it would be almost three years before Rumpole would Return again.

Big Gay Longcat reviews The Avengers: A Touch of Brimstone

This 1966 episode of The Avengers (the proper Avengers, that is, not Captain America and his friends) is considered a classic of the series for good reason - it is especially memorable for one reason, and that reason is a naughty one at that!

Alongside Patrick Macnee as John Steed and Diana Rigg as Mrs Emma Peel, the baddy-of-the-week is played by Jason King himself, Peter Wyngarde, in the first of his two appearances in The Avengers. Purr.

Steed had better look out, or he might not be the most handsome manny in his own show any more. But then Wyngarde should know, if anyone does, that if you come at the King, you best not miss.

It starts with us watching Peter Wyngarde watching television. He is enjoying some expensive luxury noms as the programme he's watching shows a cigar exploding in the face of a Russian manny, and he seems amused by it. Wyngarde does, I mean, not the Russian manny. This prototype version of Game For A Laugh still needs some fine tuning if you ask me. We don't know who Wyngarde is playing yet, or what he wants, which establishes an air of mystery to draw in and intrigue viewers early on. As if the mere presence of Wyngarde isn't enough to do that already!

Steed tells Mrs Peel there have been other pranks played on diplomats and politicians recently, so now they are on the case. Steed already suspects a manny called "the Honorable John Cleverly Cartney," presumably on the grounds that if he is played by Peter Wyngarde he must be the baddy, so he sends Mrs Peel to investigate him.

"I've come here to appeal to you, Mr Cartney."

"You certainly do that."

Smoove. He invites her to come with him to Paris, like he is already playing Jason King. Mrs Peel is just leaving when Lord Darcy enters. With it being another 30 years before Colin Firth would become synonymous with that name, there's a different Colin playing him - Colin "Inspector Lestrade" Jeavons. Once Mrs Peel has left, Carney and Darcy discuss another prank they are planning.

Mrs Peel describes Cartney to Steed as "handsome, and dynamic, very compelling, quite fascinating." That describes Peter Wyngarde alright. Purr. (Although it also describes me. Maybe Mrs Peel has met me?) They dash off to where the next clue has led them but, because Brian Clemens wrote this episode, they are too late and a manny has been killed just before they get there.

"Well it's no joke anymore."

says Steed.

Cartney is busy having kiffs with Sara Bradley, who is played by Carol Cleveland, later to become much more famous from her appearances in Monty Python's Flying Circus. Naughty Cartney! He's too busy to meet with Darcy, but then a little later on he isn't too busy to meet Mrs Peel. Very naughty Cartney!

It is therefore Steed who meets with Darcy, and gets him drunk enough to tell him the plot. Darcy had to help with Cartney's prank because of the rules of their club, called "the Hellfire club," but he didn't mean to kill anybody so now he feels guilty about it.

A soon as Steed finds out about the club we cut to it, where lots of mannys are having noms and kiffs and getting up to who knows what naughtiness just out of shot, doubtless all too naughty to show on TV. Who knows, maybe even some manly handshakes? Scandalous! Cartney, Sara and Mrs Peel come in and Cartney joins in the fun, while Mrs Peel looks on unimpressed.

Darcy bursts in and demands to speak to Cartney, who responds by giving him a patented Wyngarde stare. Then he agrees to have a meeting with Darcy, but only after him and his henchmannys have had time to put on their scary masks and hoods.

This is all just an excuse to get Darcy to stand in a spot where they can drop him down a trapdoor. Frequent Health & Safety violations are another way in which the club behaves naughtily.

Mrs Peel introduces Steed to Cartney and gets him an invitation to the next meeting of the naughty Hellfire club. One of the henchmannys tells Steed

"We believe in the power of evil, Mr Steed. We believe in the ultimate sins. Have you ever committed an ultimate sin, Mr Steed?"

They give Steed a couple of tests before he is allowed to join their club. The first one is to drink a big cup of what we may infer (it is not stated, presumably so as not to be a bad influence on the viewers at home) is incredibly strong alcohol. Steed enjoys this so much he asks for more - this is Steed we're talking about, after all.

The second test is to blow a pea out of the way of a henchmanny with an axe. Steed also manages this one easily, much to the surprise of the baddys. I wouldn't have managed it, but then I'm a cat made from socks. The henchmannys are all impressed by Steed, except for Cartney who is annoyed at Steed stealing the scene.

Steed pretends to leave, but really stays behind to secretly listen to their plotting, and so finds out that their big "coup" is to take place the next night.

The next night, Steed and Mrs Peel get dressed up to go back to the club. The henchmannys get up to their naughtiness again, but Cartney is missing so Mrs Peel goes to look for him and to find out what they need a load of fireworks for. She sees that the fireworks are really "T.N.T. High Explosives." Cartney appears and gets his "ladies-in-waiting" to take Mrs Peel away for a costume change.

Sara tells Steed that Cartney's plan is to "topple the government and then take over" by using tunnels under the house that lead all the way to Chequers "Culverston House" where "there's a cabinet meeting there tonight."

"Not for long. One big bang and they'll all be gone..."

As poorly thought out as this plan appears to be (Step 1: Blow up the government. Step 2: Take over the government), Steed rushes off to try to foil it. He doesn't get far before Cartney returns and announces

"I give you the queen of sin - Mrs Peel."

Mrs Peel is dressed very differently from before, and even has a snake! I think there's some naughty subtext on display here, but I can't quite see it for all the naughty text in the way.

Steed is so surprised that he forgets he's supposed to be saving the government and stays around to enjoy the next scene. He gets in a swordfight with a henchmanny called "Willy" (lol) who is supposed to be the best in the club at fighting, while Cartney goes after Mrs Peel with a whip - for a different sort of fight, I suppose, mew.

The swordfight is a properly dramatic scene, with lots of moves that wouldn't be out of place in a classic historical swashbuckling film. Mrs Peel gets in a fight with a henchmanny that is more in the usual tongue-in-cheek tradition of The Avengers, with her mimicking his moves after she has handled him easily (I mean beaten him. I mean defeated him), but then Cartney arrives for a more serious fight using his whip.

This being the room with the trapdoor in it, he is eventually hoist with his own petard when he whips the lever to open the trapdoor, just as he happens to be standing on it. I guess it just goes to show... if you come at the queen of sin, you'd best not miss then either. Mew.

Well with that, it's all over bar the unfunny pre-end-credits skit - which for this episode is particularly unfunny even by the standards of this show, barely even qualifying as a skit. We don't need to stay to see the rest of the henchmannys defeated - with Wyngarde out of the picture, everyone involved and viewers at home alike have all rapidly lost interest in continuing with proceedings. And who can blame them?

Rumpole of the Bailey, Season Two (1979)

If the first season of Rumpole of the Bailey, having fully established the lead and his family, only began to develop the supporting cast, the second season goes a long way towards finishing the task. Peter "A" Bowles, Julian Curry and Patricia Hodge each appear in five of the six episodes as Rumpole's fellow barristers Guthrie Featherstone QC MP, Claude Erskine-Brown and Phyllida Trant respectively.

This core cast of comic foils helps fully establish the series staple format where the events of the main plot, Rumpole's case-of-the-week, is mirrored by an out-of-court sub-plot involving the supporting characters. An example of this can be seen in Rumpole and the Course of True Love, where the sordid story of a teacher accused of sleeping with one of his pupils is contrasted with Erskine-Brown getting Miss Trant pregnant, and the episode ends with them marrying.

Changing attitudes since this was made in the late 1970s can be seen in the way the teacher, played by Nigel Havers, is treated far more sympathetically by the script than one would expect him to be in an equivalent drama made today, with the programme going out of its way to demonstrate that he was seduced by the girl, conniving with her boyfriend (also a school pupil) to get their hated teacher into trouble.

Also appearing in that episode were John "Sir Arnold" Nettleton and Peter "Sir Frank" Cellier, both familar to me from Yes Prime Minister.

Other guest appearances of note in season two include Derek Farr and Tony Caunter, who played the Ensors senior and junior respectively in the first season of Blakes 7, only a year before going on to be in this.

On the bench, Judge Bullingham (Bill Fraser) makes his second appearance, but the main adversary for Rumpole this season is found in the form of Judge Vosper (Donald "Krasis" Eccles) in three episodes, though he does not return again after season two.

It's difficult to pick a single standout episode from this set of six because the standard is so high for all of them. The fourth episode, Rumpole and the Fascist Beast, sees Rumpole defending a parliamentary candidate for an (unnamed) far-right party who stands accused of inciting racial hatred. When Rumpole gets him off by making the jury see him as a joke, a dreamer, and a relic of the bygone age of the British Empire, he commits suicide - another example of something that is becoming a familiar format point of Rumpole, where the defendant would rather have been found guilty than not guilty.

Roger Sloman is in this playing one of the fascists. He was also a fascist in a 1976 episode of Crown Court that I happened to watch recently, which is either a coincidence or else an unlucky bit of typecasting. Does he perhaps look, or sound, like a typical 1970s neo-nazi?

We get a format-breaker for the third episode, Rumpole and the Show Folk, where Rumpole is the only regular character to feature since the story is set outside of London, away from Rumpole's chambers and the Old Bailey. The absence of Featherstone, Erskine-Brown, etc. (not to mention Hilda Rumpole!) is filled by several guest characters - Eleanor "exquisite" Bron is an actress accused of murdering her actor husband, John Wells a fabulously camp theatre manager (who almost manages the impossible task of stealing the show from McKern), and Bernard "Marcus Scarman" Archard as a local barrister.

Probably the most dramatically powerful moment of the season comes here when, after having concluded his case for the defence and while he and his client are waiting for the jury to reach their verdict, Rumpole realises that his client is probably guilty after all; that the actress gave a performance that even fooled Rumpole.

There is also a cat in this episode, so of course it was great!

The last episode, Rumpole and the Age for Retirement, teases the audience with the possibility that Rumpole will retire for good, bringing the series to a permanent end. This sets the precedent for future season finales to fake out the viewers with the prospect of similar final ends (season four's Rumpole's Last Case being the most obvious of these). Rumpole's family, friends and colleagues from his chambers, and even Judge Vosper, all conspire to present Rumpole with retirement as a fait accompli, with him and Hilda set to move to America to live with their son Nick. I can't see it lasting, and not just because the next episode is called Rumpole's Return...

A change does come to the series when one of the chambers regulars, Rumpole's friend George Frobisher (Moray Watson), leaves to become a judge. Having been in eight episodes across the first two seasons, we will see him again only a couple of times more. This shakes up the status quo, permanently, and is a hint of things to come.

Rumpole of the Bailey, Season One (1978)

In 1975 the Play for Today of Rumpole of the Bailey was made by the BBC and told a self-contained story about the character and his family. Three years later Rumpole returned, this time on ITV in a long-running series that saw seven seasons broadcast between 1978 and 1992.

Eventually this series settled down into a somewhat cosy formula, but there is as yet little evidence of this final form in the first season, which is only the first part of a bridge from the original Play for Today 'pilot' episode to the familiar Rumpole of the later years.

Unlike all the subsequent seasons, which would be set near-contemporaneously with the years in which they were made, the first season is set over the course of 10 years from 1967 to 1977, as is made clear from on-screen captions seen shortly after the opening titles. While most characters seem to change little over the course of the decade, this is crucial for the development of the Rumpole's son Nick, who goes from a senior schoolboy in the first episode to a university graduate, engaged to be married, and about to embark on an academic career by episode three.

The third episode, Rumpole and the Honorable Member, is the standout story of the season, and one that is tough to imagine coming any later in the series' run. In it, Rumpole defends an MP accused of rape, which he does by (as was a standard practice for defence barristers at the time) attacking the character of the accuser. The cross-examination scene is the most brutal of the entire series, with Rumpole pulling no punches, and it makes for a difficult viewing since this is supposed to be 'our hero' doing this.

What makes it even worse is when it later comes out that the accused is guilty after all, meaning Rumpole had been attempting to discredit an innocent and honest person. He is left having to defend his actions to his future daughter-in-law (who was horrified at having witnessed the cross-examination in court) by arguing that the accused was entitled to be defended until he was proved guilty (that is what "innocent until proven guilty" means). This is true enough, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch.

The MP Rumpole was defending was played by Anton "Susan died a year ago, Number Six" Rodgers in a guest appearance. Speaking of The Prisoner, we are introduced in the first episode to Guthrie Featherstone QC MP, a recurring character played by Peter "A" Bowles. As a fellow barrister in Rumpole's "chambers," he is sometimes an ally and sometimes a rival to Rumpole. Appearing in four of the six episodes, he benefits from possibly the most character development of any of the supporting cast in chambers, potentially matched only by Claude Erskine-Brown (Julian Curry), also appearing in four episodes but not really heavily involved in the plots of any of them. Never mind, Erskine-Brown will get his chance in later seasons - aside from Rumpole himself, he is the barrister we will see the most of, across all seven seasons.

Other one-off guest appearances of note include Jane Asher as Rumpole's client in the second episode, Rumpole and the Alternative Society, appearing alongside one of her colleagues from The Stone Tape, Tom CHAAAAADBON, here playing a police detective. Also in that same episode is Peter "Count Grendel " Jeffrey as an old friend of Rumpole's.

While Rumpole of the Bailey would feature several memorable recurring judges throughout the length of the series (each with an adversarial attitude to Rumpole that often made them more of an opposition to him than the other barristers), the only one to be seen here in the first season is Judge Bullingham, "the Mad Bull." This head start, combined with the distinctive snarling characterisation from Bill Fraser, arguably makes him the most memorable of all the judges Rumpole would face over his career.

In the final episode of the season, Rumpole and the Heavy Brigade, Rumpole is set up to fail by two conniving brothers, played by Bruce "Pirate Captain" Purchase and Derek "Greg Sutton" Newark, who employ Rumpole to defend their third brother, who stands accused of a murder they themselves were responsible for. Trevor "Professor Litefoot" Baxter also appears as a solicitor whose loyalties are divided between the two villainous brothers who are paying him, and the accused brother with whom his sympathies lie.

The brothers' plot is foiled when Rumpole successfully defends the case, leading the police to look for the real killers. A triumphant Rumpole realises that he was only chosen for the case because of his eccentric mannerisms and disheveled outward appearance (which includes his old and battered hat that he wears in spite of derogatory comments from judges), and that without these his client might have been found guilty.

Far from covering up a hollow interior life, Rumpole's eccentricities conceal that he is a seeker after justice and a defender of those in need of him. This is a thematic reversal of the ending of the Play for Today, and sets Rumpole up for his new life as a continuing character and, eventually, a television institution.

Play for Today: Rumpole of the Bailey (1975)

The TV series Rumpole of the Bailey ran on ITV from 1978 to 1992, but it started out as this one-off Play for Today on the BBC. From the very first scene he appears in, Horace Rumpole is there and fully formed as a character, embodied by Leo McKern in the only role that could possibly overshadow his Number Two (in my mind, at least). This scene also features the first use of his catchphrase (one of many), referring to his wife Hilda as "She Who Must Be Obeyed."

With only an hour to tell a complete story, the only characters from the later TV series who appear here are the members of the Rumpole family. Both wife Hilda and son Nick are written quite differently, in service of the plot being told here, their characterisation later being softened considerably to make them suitable for an ongoing series. Hilda especially is very different, and it is impossible to imagine series-Hilda as a quiet alcoholic, sinking a bottle of gin in one night as her only way of escaping from her domestic situation.

This is because while the main plot is ostensibly a comic tale about the crime Rumpole is the defence barrister for, his struggle to get his client off in the face of the evidence against him, and his subsequent victory in court, the sub-plot is a tragic one as the Rumpoles' son Nick, now grown up, leaves for a job in America and so his parents face having an 'empty nest' and a hole in their lives. Rumpole can fill this gap with his job, but where does that leave Hilda?*

The tragic side would remain present in the TV series through its first two seasons, often as an undertone (before disappearing entirely by the end of the third), but never to such an extent as here. This is probably due to the larger cast of characters made possible in a long-running series, and one where many of the other characters, such as Rumpole's fellow barristers, would largely be comic foils for Rumpole to play off. We get close to this here when Vernon Dobtcheff makes an appearance as the prosecuting barrister opposing Rumpole in court, and he is shown to be no match for the experienced Rumpole's many tricks of the trade.

While Rumpole is the member of the family who comes closest to their final TV series form, there is a crucial difference in the character we see here, hidden by the fact he is played by McKern (both Hilda and Nick would be recast) in such a similar way to series-Rumpole. The Rumpole of the Play for Today could never have sustained a full series, because all his eccentricities and character tics are revealed to us here to be an act; a front that he puts on to enable him to get through the day and do his job. They are to him what the gin is to Hilda.

While there are some hints of this self-awareness in the series version (again, in the early seasons only), the eccentricities are mostly played for real, since, after all, the character is much more fun that way, and it suits the lighter tone of the more overtly comedic series. But what this means is that the character of Rumpole has already been deconstructed, before his TV series even began.

Predeconstructed, if you will.

* The TV series would solve this by retconning Hilda as having friends and an extended family (who didn't get on with Rumpole), as well as meddling in her husband's job due to her father having been a barrister. Essentially an entirely new backstory and characterisation.

Look - (stop me if you've heard this one) But There Were These Two Fellers...

Yes that is the title.

The Avengers had been getting increasingly comedic for a while, but did it ever get more overtly comedic than this 1968 tale of two clowns bumping board directors off under orders from a Punch & Judy Show? The way the killers dance off after every murder is genuinely funny though, and there is an additional meta-element to the amusement because they are breaking the fourth wall to do it, acknowledging and playing up to the camera and, thereby, the viewers at home.

John Steed and Tara King try to get in on the double-act game, but Steed works better as a witty character, not an outright clown indulging in cheap gags and slapstick.

And another thing that makes this episode remarkable is the presence of John Cleese, in what was (probably, based on a minimal amount of internets research) his first TV role outside of sketch shows. The absurdity of storing hundreds of fragile eggs on rickety shelves is amplified by Cleese's character's eggsaggerated nervousness around them. It is obvious from the moment we first see thee gees that they are going to end up smashed, so there is joy to be found in the eggspectation.

And another guest-star of note is Bernard Cribbins, playing the former gag writer for one of the killer clowns. We meet him surrounded by thousands of discarded pieces of paper, each one a rejected gag. A year before "Ernest Scribbler" would appear in Monty Python's Flying Circus's 'funniest joke in the world' sketch, Cribbins's character shows that this particular stereotype was already well-established, and this a particularly outrageous example of it.

Killed off in case he can identify the clowns, Cribbins still manages to do exactly that, and gives Steed the clue that sets him on their tail. Though in order to find the clue he has to go hunting through the masses of paper, a situation as inevitable in its own way as the breaking of the eggs was.

And Talfryn Thomas makes a creepy late entrance as pyromaniac magician "Fiery Frederick," the member of the evil entertainers gang who is prepared to murder Tara (as a part of his magic act, naturally) when the killer clowns themselves prove too squeamish. This walks the line between remaining comedic and being genuinely tense, a blending of the two tones that was practically a trademark of The Avengers in its last few seasons, before spreading to become a staple of late '60s/early '70s telefantasy in general - no doubt because of the significant overlap in writers and script editors.

And as the evil entertainers have their final meeting with their leader (the Punch & Judy Show concealing his identity like he is Blofeld in the early Bond films), Steed and Tara infiltrate it disguised as a pantomime horse, leading to a confrontation with the real ('real') pantomime horse that is already a member of the gang. They club all the gang members over the head until only the two clowns and the boss are left. Steed has to club the ventriloquist's dummy as well as the ventriloquist, because of he course he does.

Steed's fight with the clown who is also a quick-change artist sees Steed having to defeat each of his costumes (acting like extra lives) in succession, with the final punch sending him speeding back through all the changes we have just seen before he collapses. Tara fights with the mute sidekick mostly offscreen, vanishing into a magician's cabinet before emerging with her defeated opponent. Steed and Tara reunite to easily defeat the boss, then dance off the screen in the manner previously used by the clowns - they don't normally break the fourth wall in this way, or even imitate their antagonists for that matter, but in this case it is symbolic of their ultimate triumph over an opposition who did get to play around with the format.

I could say the same about the coda involving Steed quick-changing, but that's just the usual sort of lame joke these episodes end with as standard.

I suppose it does prove that the normal level of humour has been restored. Mew.

Big Gay Longcat reviews Star Trek: Spectre of the Gun

Spectre of the Gun was the first episode produced for the third season of Star Trek. However it was shown sixth, presumably because they were in more of a hurry to get Spock's Brain out there for the viewing public to enjoy as soon as possible. Despite the name of the episode, if Expensive Luxury Cat is expecting a crossover with James Bond, he's going to be expensive luxury disappointed.

The Enterprise is already at red alert, so we are starting in media res. There's another ship that appears to be chasing them, playing Cat and Mouse - a great start. It sends them a message telling them to turn back,  but Captain Kirk's orders are "to establish contact with the Melkotians at all costs."

He sends a message back to the ship, but when it gives them no reply he decides they should carry on boldly going to the planet they were on their way to.

Captain Kirk, Mr Spock, Dr McCoy, Scotty and Chekov beam down to the planet between scenes, the budget now being so low that even the cost-saving transporter is now too expensive to show. The planet is all foggy, which makes Captain Kirk nervous that this might be another Hallowe'en episode. They cannot communicate with the Enterprise, so are stuck here.

An alien appears through the fog, which creates a mini-cliffhanger to take us into the title sequence. When it resumes, the alien tells them it is going to kill them for ignoring their warning to turn back. Captain Kirk pulls out his phaser and says

"We come in peace, but we'll defend ourselves if necessary."

It's not quite "We come in peace; shoot to kill," but is one of the nearest examples we are going to get in the series.

The alien teleports them to a different place, a half-built set of a Wild West town. It is well known that the reason it looks the way it does is because it was easier on the budget than trying to build a realistic Wild West town in their studio (something even Doctor Who managed in The Gunfighters, which shows just how bad their financial situation was for Star Trek's third season when the network was purposefully trying to kill the show), but it is hardly an original observation for me to make that this adds enormously to the strangeness of the alien environment, and creates a much more fitting atmosphere than even the most realistic set could have - eerie, and doom-laden.

Their phasers have been replaced with Wild West guns. Captain Kirk says of them

"These could be useful. Just remember one thing - to individuals at close range, these could be as deadly as phasers."

That almost sounds like a joke, given how laughably ineffective some of the more modern Star Trek spinoffs have made phasers, but it is important to remember that phasers were still serious business in those days.

The town sheriff appears and recognises them, but not as Captain Kirk, Mr Spock, Dr McCoy, Scotty and Chekov. Instead he thinks they are the Clanton gang, which helps Captain Kirk and Mr Spock recognise what is going on.

Captain Kirk: "In the late 19th century in Arizona, two factions fought for control of the town of Tombstone. The Earps - Morgan, Virgil and Wyatt - who were the town marshals, along with Doc Holliday."

Mr Spock: "And the Clanton gang. On October 26th, they 'had it out.'"

Chekov: "Who won?"

Captain Kirk: "The Clantons lost, Mr Chekov."

Chekov: "And we are the Clantons?"

Captain Kirk: "We are the Clantons."

Other mannys appear in the Last Chance Saloon. While music plays in the background, we cats are all grateful it is not the Ballad of the Last Chance Saloon, which we had quite enough of hearing (thirty times) in The Gunfighters. Chekov is happy to get a kiff from one of the mannys, who thinks he is Billy Claiborne. Captain Kirk is less happy to see that one of the other mannys there is Morgan Earp, whom he is unlikely to be getting any kiffs from.

Since they still look like themselves, and still have their Starfleet costumes on, Captain Kirk is quick to try and convince the bartender who he really is:

"I know this is hard to understand, but I'm Captain James T Kirk of the spaceship Enterprise."

and when the bartender only laughs at him:

Captain Kirk: "I'm not joking! I'm not Ike Clanton!"

Bartender: "It's okay with me, Ike, anything you say. Don't make no difference who I think you are. Your problem is, who does Wyatt Earp think you are?"

This is obviously not going to succeed, but that doesn't stop Captain Kirk from going to see Wyatt and Virgil Earp, alone, and trying the same plan on them. This just leads to him having a fist fight with them, and they give him the ultimatum that he has until "five o'clock" to leave the town. Captain Kirk says

"We'll be glad to cooperate."

because leaving the town is what he wants to do anyway.

Captain Kirk, Mr Spock and Dr McCoy try to think of a new plan while Scotty drinks the "bourbon" (outrageous national stereotyping, there) and Chekov tries to get more kiffs from his new friend Sylvia.

Their plan is "to exercise the better part of valour" and leave town, but a forcefield prevents any of them from crossing the "Tombstone city limits." Realising they are trapped here and can't win a fair gunfight because history says the Clantons must lose it, they come up with a new plan to make a primitive gas grenade - a plan that has a role for everybody in order to assemble the pieces Mr Spock needs.

Dr McCoy visits the dentist's shop to try to get anaesthetic, not realising the dentist here is Doc Holliday and so another one of their enemies. Holliday lets him have it - his bag of medicines, I mean - but sends him away with another warning. This is beginning to get a little repetitive, but the sinister incidental music helps make it a tense scene, part of a long, slow build towards the episode's climax. But still, I don't think we can take many more of these 'threatening our heroes but not actually shooting them' scenes.

Meanwhile Chekov is getting into his part much more than the others, perhaps because he keeps running into Sylvia wherever he goes. Unfortunately this time he also meets Morgan Earp, and they get into a fight.

Expecting this to be another fist fight, Chekov advances towards Earp, who draws his gun and shoots Chekov. Oh noes!

Captain Kirk, Mr Spock, Dr McCoy and Scotty all run in. Dr McCoy says

"There's nothing I can do, Jim."

which is a missed opportunity for him to say "He's ded, Jim" if you ask me, mew.

All three Earps stand ready to have the gunfight right then and there, and Scotty (who is probably pretty drunk by this point) is up for settling things that way too. But Captain Kirk de-escalates the situation, even resisting further provocation from the Earps. This is a rare and beautiful form of leadership we see from Kirk here, defying the conventions of heroic characters, and certainly acting against the common stereotype of Captain Kirk, as a gung-ho, act-first-think-later type.

Our (surviving) heroes retire to the saloon to continue their grenade-making plan. This leads to a great character scene, since they are trying to do this while also dealing with the shock of Chekov's death. Dr McCoy and Scotty, and even Captain Kirk to some extent, struggle to understand that Mr Spock deals with the grief in a different way to them.

This lovely moment of conflict between our heroes is brief, as Mr Spock has realised that they can change the events here, since in the historical gunfight Billy Claiborne, who Chekov was playing the role of, was supposed to be the one of their gang to survive. This leads to a bit of classic Shatner acting as he makes the point clear for the audience at home:

"Yes. Yes, that's right. That means it doesn't have to happen the way it happened. We can change it."

and then, as if that were not enough:

"There must be a way. History has been changed in the fact that Billy Claiborne didn't die, but Chekov is lying there dead. That means there must be a way to change this history."

Captain Kirk goes to the sheriff to ask for his help, but the sheriff only encourages him to fight the Earps and to kill them. Captain Kirk tries to play along as wanting "revenge" on the Earps, but can't bring himself to pretend to be a ruthless murderer.

The sheriff's suggestion that "there'll be no questions asked" if his gang did murder the Earps horrifies Captain Kirk that a representative of the law could be so cowardly and corrupt, as is plainly visible on Shatner's face - a great, if not exactly subtle, piece of the acting.

Mr Spock and Dr McCoy have finished the gas grenade, and Scotty volunteers for them to test its effects on him. There's a moment of komedy as he downs some (more) bourbon "to kill the pain" before Mr Spock replies

Mr Spock: "But this is painless."

Scotty: "Well, you should've warned me sooner, Mr Spock."

Lol. This last bit of comic relief indicates the story's climax is approaching. The gas has no effect on Scotty, meaning their plan cannot succeed. Mr Spock almost seems annoyed that the aliens have apparently changed the laws of physics to prevent their plan from saving them. Sadly, Scotty completely fails to raise any objection as to the possibility or otherwise of this being the case.

Captain Kirk has one, desperate idea left, which is for them to stay in the saloon and not go to the OK Corral. No sooner has he said this then the aliens teleport them to the OK Corral. Sorry, when I said "last bit of comic relief" I meant "second last bit of comic relief," except this final bit was probably not intentionally funny, being a rare example of an instant reversal intended to be dramatic.

Forcefields again keep them in the place the aliens want them to be, so they are trapped there. Mr Spock thinks he knows what is going on, with the failure of the tranquilising gas having given him the last clue.

Mr Spock: "Physical reality is consistent with universal laws. Where the laws do not operate, there is no reality. All of this is unreal."

Dr McCoy: "What do you mean unreal? I examined Chekov. He's dead."

(Jim.)

Mr Spock: "But you made your examination under conditions which we cannot trust. We judge reality by the response of our senses. Once we are convinced of the reality of a given situation, we abide by its rules. We judged the bullets to be solid, the guns to be real, therefore they can kill."

Captain Kirk: "Chekov is dead because he believed the bullets would kill him."

Mr Spock: "He may indeed be dead. We do not know."

Captain Kirk: "But we do know that the Melkotians created the situation. If we do not allow ourselves to believe that the bullets are real, they cannot kill us."

Mr Spock: "Exactly. I know the bullets are unreal, therefore they cannot harm me."

Captain Kirk: "We must all be as certain as you are, Mr Spock, to save our lives."

Mr Spock: "Precisely."

Dr McCoy: "But that's not possible. There'd always be some doubt."

Mr Spock: "The smallest doubt would be enough to kill you."

As the Earps arrive, accompanied by Doc Holliday, wind, lightning, and increasingly dramatic music, Mr Spock uses Vulcan mind melds to give the others some of his certainty that "the bullets are unreal. Without body. They are illusions only."

The Earps and Holliday blast away for ages, but to no effect, then Captain Kirk does a hilarious flying kick on Wyatt Earp before having a fist fight with him - a contest in which Earp doesn't stand a chance against the Shat in all his glory.

Having won the fight, Captain Kirk points his gun at Earp, but then throws it away. This is classic Star Trek, and this is far from the first time that Captain Kirk has won by showing mercy on his defeated adversary. Of course that also means it's far from the most famous example of this, too.

The aliens, using their distinct but by now familiar zoom-in-then-zoom-out-again effect, teleport our heroes back to the Enterprise, where Chekov is alive again. All he remembers is

"But that girl. She was so beautiful. So real."

Naughty Chekov. Sylvia didn't appear in the last part of the story, but that must be because of the law that states if Chekov's Girl appears in the first act, she must be fired by the third act.

The alien spaceship from the start of the episode blows up in front of them, then the alien appears on the viewscreen to talk to Captain Kirk:

Alien: "Captain Kirk. You did not kill. Is this the way of your kind?"

Captain Kirk: "It is. We fight only when there's no choice. We prefer the ways of peaceful contact. I speak for a vast alliance of fellow creatures who believe in the same thing. We have sought you out to join us. Our mission is still one of peace."

Alien: "Approach our planet and be welcome. A delegation will come out to meet you. Our warning threats are over."

Well that's the end of the episode, except for a brief scene where Captain Kirk, Mr Spock and Dr McCoy philosophically discuss how mannys have changed between 1881 and stardate 4385.3:

Mr Spock: "Mankind, ready to kill."

Captain Kirk: "That's the way it was in 1881."

Mr Spock: "I wonder how humanity managed to survive."

Captain Kirk: "We overcame our instinct for violence."

Mr Spock gives him a look that suggests he doesn't quite believe this since, after all, Captain Kirk did still do a massive Shat Fu leap on to Wyatt Earp at the end there. Or maybe Mr Spock just can't quite believe the episode ended without Dr McCoy saying something racist to him. That's progress of a different sort, I suppose.