ALL SYMPATHY TO DR CRIPPEN

Press, Volume CXVI, Issue 34046, 9 January 1976, Page 4

ALL SYMPATHY TO DR CRIPPEN

( By

R. T. BRITTENDEN)

A diligent watch of the box can fill in all sorts of gaps in one’s knowledge. It might be a revelation about the origins of a South American folk ‘dance, or an item on the production of boot polish jin Bulgaria. Wednesday night served to show us that the infamous Dr Crippen was fully justified in his infamous action, if he had a wife like the one in the TV2 suspense movie, and if Ethel Le Neve was remotely similar to Samantha Eggar.

In the scant knowledge I gained before the days of television, it seemed that Dr Crippen was notable chiefly because he was apprehended, aboard a liner, through the I use of the new-fangled wireless system. j The movie of his case his;tory filled in a vast gap in our awareness about the doctor. Just how much were fact and fiction melded? Donald Pleasence made Crippen a pathetic victim of j circumstance, in many ways; an admirable man. Samantha Eggar made Miss Le Neve' an enchanting innocent.

. Whatever the facts, whatever the fiction, it was a gripping drama, and Pleasence, a veteran of so many screen and television plays, produced one of this best performances. Black and white seemed a proper medium for this sombre piece: and when TV presents so ; much trivia, the prison scene before Crippen’s execution was a little masterpiece in understatement. The rest of the evening’s viewing was not of particular consequence. It was off with the old — and no doubt, back with it before long. Two who departed, for a while, were Mary Tyler Moore and the brusque Mr Onedin. Miss Moore, notwithstanding that squawking voice, has a charming personality. But the success of her show — and its success iis unquestionable — was

I based on the delightful characters surrounding her. There is a sense of personal loss in the withdrawal of Edward Asner, the TV station boss. His engagingly ugly face and his blend of the brusque and the beatific will be missed, particularly. The last episode of “The Onedin Line” suggested that sailors have always found their diversions, even in the days when sail was giving way to steam. This has been another good series, with a hint here and there of Hornblower, and its stronger suggestion of a maritime “Power Game.” One could not but admire Miss Gloria Swanson, a star of the days when the silents were being taken over by talkies, for her contribution to “The Carol Burnett Show.”

Miss Swanson was, apparently, the glamour girl of her day. Now, and very properly, she substituted a sense of humour for sex appeal. Her tango, and vocal accompaniment in a terrible voice, spoke much for her courage; her Charlie Chaplin piece needed no such sympathetic response. Miss SwanIson might not have qualified for one of the television awards, but she was an encouragement to us all.

The “Carol Burnett Show” is definitely a cut above the average, largely through the presence of Harvey Korman. The sketch he shared with Miss Burnett, about the guilt of the philandering husband, was a delight. Definitely lowbrow, but often rewarding, is “The Wheeltappers and Shunters Social Club.” Some of the fare is dreadful, some of it well worth watching. It ! really is a quaint mixture, and one never knows what to expect. This time the cast varied from the pleasant Springfield Revival to the extraordinary Tina, the baton twirler from Canada. Television One’s “Sportsnight” had some extraordinary trick golf shots from the American Wedgie Winchester, in a performance filmed at Russley. He made mockery of practice and theory, and

his ability to hit the ball hundreds of yards from impossible positions and with ridiculous equipment and ease made one, in the words of a delighted golfer of our acquaintance, "absolutely sick.” Soccer was inevitable, but again the quality of the production made it well worth while. This film, of a match between Arsenal and Queen’s Park Rangers, was notable for the fine replays of major incidents, taken from behind the goal. The American ice hockey item was quite dramatic, if only for the fact that the players looked like so many Michelin men, and the goalies like creatures from outer space. This is said to be the fastest of all games, and it certainly disclosed ■ how much rapid movement there is. But the niceties of the game, if there are any, are probably lost on most New Zealanders, whose background training in this sport probably led them to believe there would be a punch-up at any moment. In this they were disappointed; but there is more ice hockey to come.