Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Tuesdays, I will be reviewing Pacific Blue, a cop show that aired from 1996 to 2000 on the USA Network! It’s currently streaming everywhere, though I’m watching it on Tubi.
This week, the bicycle cops investigate a 50 year-old cold case.
Episode 4.17 “Scarlet Rose”
(Dir by Paul Brown, originally aired on March 7th, 1999)
In the 1940s, Santa Monica was shaken by the brutal murder of an actress nicknamed the Scarlet Rose. Her ghost is said to haunt the ballroom where she used to dance and where it’s believed she met her still-unknown murderer. Now, after nearly 50 years, the ballroom is reopening as the Scarlet Rose Ballroom.
Bobby Cruz, who has long been haunted by the stories about the Scarlet Rose, attends the grand opening, where everyone is dressed like it’s the 1940s and swing dancing. When he meets Lily (LuAnne Ponce), he’s stunned because she looks just like the Scarlet Rose. Lily explains that she is Scarlet’s granddaughter and that she’s looking not only for the truth about who killed her grandmother, but also for what happened to a valuable necklace Scarlet owned.
Bobby suspects that Walter (William Schallert), an older man who hangs around the club, might have had something to do with Scarlet’s murder. He also suspects that it might somehow be linked to a recent robbery at a jewelry store. He takes his suspicions to T.C.
“We are going undercover!” T.C. announces.
Yes, this is yet another episode in which the members of Pacific Blue go undercover. These episodes never make sense to me, because the members of Pacific Blue are bicycle cops. They’re not detectives. They’re not trained to go undercover. They’re trained to ride around on their bikes, hand out traffic tickets, and secure crime scenes until the real detectives can show up.
In this episode, going undercover means that Monica gets a job singing at the club while Cory and Jamie hang out at the bar and glare at everyone like the two biggest killjoys in existence. It isn’t just that it doesn’t make any sense for these people to be working undercover. It’s also that none of them are particularly good at it. Cory and Jamie may be dressed up like 1940s femme fatales, but they still give off an immediate cop vibe.
For the record, the case of the Scarlet Rose is solved. It turns out that she was murdered by an associate of Los Angeles gangster Mickey Cohen. Considering that Cohen was a real person, it feels a little unfair to pin a fictional murder on him, but I guess Pacific Blue felt that, since he wasn’t around to complain, it wouldn’t be a problem.
(The Scarlet Rose was clearly based on the Black Dahlia murder case. It seems like every few years, someone publishes a book claiming to have solved the Black Dahlia case. Former LAPD detective Steve Hodel built an entire literary career out of accusing his late father of being responsible for the Dahlia’s murder and practically every other unsolved murder in California.)
A few positive things can be said about this episode. The 1940s-style costumes were to die for. The real-life band Jumpin’ Jimes provided the episode with a great soundtrack, and the swing dance scenes were nicely choreographed. The Scarlet Rose Ballroom looked like a fun place to hang out. Not even the dour presence of Cory and Jamie could suck the fun out of that place. Finally, old pro William Schallert gave a good performance as a potential suspect who wasn’t entirely what he seemed to be.
In other words, this was actually a pretty good episode of Pacific Blue. I’ll never understand why the bicycle cops were investigating a 50-year-old cold case, but whatever. It was still an entertaining episode.
Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Tuesdays, I will be reviewing Saved By The Bell: The New Class, which ran on NBC from 1993 to 2o00. The show is currently on Prime.
It’s the summer that will never end!
Episode 2.16 “Back at the Ranch”
(Dir by Don Barnhart, originally aired on October 29th, 1994)
Mr. Belding had so much fun working with the Gang at Palisades Country Club that he decides to take them on a week-long trip to a real-life, functioning “dude ranch” that is owned by Screech’s uncle, Lester (Lewis Arquette).
Uhmmm …. okay. Sure, that makes sense. Whatever.
Actually, it makes no sense. Do these kids not have families? It’s the summer so they all get jobs working for their principal and now they’re going to a ranch with him? And apparently, they’re going to be working as ranch hands or something? I mean, what the Hell? TAKE A REAL VACATION, KIDS!
Plus, since when has Screech had an Uncle Lester who owned a dude ranch? This has never been mentioned before. Screech apparently grew up around horses. Really? We’re talking about Screech here.
Anyway, Screech is excited to be at the ranch until he sees his cousin, Clint (Bart Johnson). Clint used to bully Screech when he was a kid and Clint still acts like he knows more about horse-riding and gold-prospecting than Screech. While Uncle Lester and Mr. Belding drive into town, Clint takes the Gang to search for gold in the hills. Screech stays at the ranch and has a dream where he’s in an old-timey western. Oh look! The townspeople are all played by members of the Gang! Tommy’s the blacksmith. Wow.
Screech wakes up and sees that the horses have returned but the gang hasn’t. That’s because Tommy didn’t adequately tie up the horses at the gold mine and they all ran off. Clint was heading back to the ranch when he got thrown from his horse. Now, he’s got a sprained ankle and there’s a rattlesnake nearby. It’s a good thing that Screech has got his bicycle so he can ride up into the hills and save everyone!
This was one of the stupidest things that I’ve ever seen in my life. And seriously, that’s all I’m going to say about it.
“I’m excusing a lot because I recognize the trauma and the loss you have suffered. But my patience isn’t limitless… unlike my authority.” — Inquisitor Gregor Eisenhorn
Xenos by Dan Abnett is one of the best places to begin a journey into the immense, intimidating fictional universe of Warhammer 40,000. The setting has decades of lore, countless factions, and a reputation for throwing newcomers into a blizzard of Gothic names, alien species, religious doctrine, and galaxy-wide war. Abnett gets around that problem by starting on a smaller, more personal scale. Rather than opening with armies of Space Marines firing bolters into a battlefield, Xenos follows an investigation. It is a mystery novel first, but one wrapped in political intrigue, supernatural horror, science-fiction adventure, and the oppressive atmosphere that makes Warhammer 40,000 unique.
The novel follows Gregor Eisenhorn, an Imperial Inquisitor investigating the suspicious death of another Inquisitor and the possible return of an infamous forbidden text. What initially appears to be a contained case grows steadily more complicated, carrying Eisenhorn from the polished halls of the powerful to the dangerous, hidden corners of the Imperium. Along the way, he encounters criminal networks, secretive cults, alien interests, old enemies, and clues suggesting that the threat he is following is far larger than it first appears. That is about as much as the plot should be revealed going in. One of Xenos’ greatest pleasures is seeing an investigation expand in unexpected directions as Eisenhorn realizes that every answer seems to reveal another, more disturbing question.
For newcomers, Eisenhorn is a perfect guide through the setting because his job gives him access to virtually every level of Imperial society. The Inquisition is the Imperium’s feared internal-security and investigative force, responsible for hunting down threats such as heresy, Chaos corruption, rogue psykers, dangerous mutants, and alien infiltration. Its three major branches are the Ordo Xenos, which deals with alien threats; the Ordo Malleus, which combats daemonic and major Chaos threats; and the Ordo Hereticus, which investigates internal heresy and corruption within humanity. Eisenhorn belongs to the Ordo Xenos, although Xenos quickly makes it clear that the lines between those responsibilities can become blurry when an investigation leads into forbidden knowledge and the influence of Chaos.
Inquisitors operate with enormous authority inside the sprawling hierarchy of the Imperium’s bureaucracy. They can demand cooperation from military officers, nobles, bureaucrats, religious leaders, and law-enforcement agencies alike, often placing them effectively above the normal chain of command. That vast authority makes them necessary in an empire as corrupt, unwieldy, and permanently threatened as the Imperium, but it also makes them frightening. Eisenhorn can investigate almost anyone, order arrests and executions, seize resources, and disregard ordinary procedure if he believes the situation demands it. The novel’s central moral tension comes from that power: what happens when someone entrusted with protecting humanity has the freedom to do almost anything in its name?
That question gives Xenos considerably more weight than a straightforward sci-fi detective story. Eisenhorn is not a traditional hero, though he is clearly written as the protagonist and often comes across as intelligent, disciplined, and committed to his work. He believes in the Imperium, believes in his duty, and believes that evil has to be confronted before it spreads. At the same time, he works inside a system where fear and brutality are normal tools of governance. An Inquisitor cannot afford to be naïve, especially when dealing with Chaos, cults, and conspiracies built around forbidden knowledge. But Abnett constantly pushes Eisenhorn toward uncomfortable choices, forcing him to decide how much compromise is acceptable when the enemy is capable of manipulating minds, corrupting souls, and destroying worlds.
That is one of the major reasons the book works so well. Warhammer 40,000 can sometimes feel like a setting built from giant concepts: eternal war, fanatical religion, ancient aliens, grim military hardware, and cosmic evil. Xenos does not ignore any of those things, but it makes them matter on a human level. The Imperium is not merely described as a brutal galaxy-spanning empire; Abnett shows how it functions through its people and institutions. There are noble houses, archives, cults, scholars, law officers, ship crews, bureaucrats, mercenaries, and citizens who have learned to survive under a regime where suspicion can be fatal. The book makes the Imperium feel less like a background painting and more like a living, oppressive civilization.
Abnett’s greatest strength is his ability to reveal the setting without drowning the reader in exposition. There are plenty of unfamiliar terms in Xenos, especially for readers coming in cold, but the novel rarely stops to hand over a rulebook-style explanation. You learn about the Warp because it is dangerous and uncanny whenever it enters the story. You understand Chaos because its influence produces paranoia, violence, and spiritual corruption. The Eldar are introduced not as a long historical lecture but as secretive, ancient, unsettlingly intelligent outsiders with motives that human characters cannot fully grasp. That approach preserves the sense that this universe is far bigger than Eisenhorn’s current case, while still making the plot easy to follow.
The pacing is helped by the fact that Abnett never lets the story remain in one mode for too long. Xenos begins with the mood of an investigative thriller, but it gradually expands into something stranger and more dangerous. The novel moves through crime scenes, aristocratic gatherings, interrogation rooms, alien ruins, dangerous underworld spaces, and moments of full-scale action. That variety keeps the book from becoming too bleak or static. The setting is absolutely grim, and the violence can be nasty, but there is also a strong sense of momentum and adventure. Abnett knows that the horror of the 41st Millennium is more effective when the reader is also excited to see what strange corner of it comes next.
His prose is another major advantage. Abnett writes in a style that is clean and readable without losing the ornate, Gothic flavor of the setting. He can handle action well, especially when Eisenhorn and his team are forced into sudden violence, but he is arguably even better with atmosphere. Some of the novel’s most memorable scenes involve conversations where nobody says exactly what they mean, tense interrogations, the discovery of forbidden evidence, or the lingering sense that an apparently routine lead has opened a door that should have remained closed. He gives Xenos the feel of a noir investigation filtered through a nightmare version of space opera.
Eisenhorn’s supporting cast helps keep the novel grounded. Aemos, his loyal savant, brings experience and knowledge to the team, while the warrior Midas Betancore adds a practical edge to their fieldwork. Alizabeth Bequin, whose unusual nature is tied to some of the setting’s stranger ideas, becomes one of the more intriguing figures around Eisenhorn. Each character has a defined role, but they are not simply pieces of equipment for the Inquisitor to deploy. Their reactions to danger, secrecy, and Eisenhorn himself make it clear that he may possess enormous legal authority, but he still depends on people he cannot completely control.
The relationship between Eisenhorn and Bequin is especially effective because Abnett does not force it into an overly simple romance. In a lighter setting, their dynamic might become predictable, but Warhammer 40,000 is not a world where emotional connection comes without consequences. Their growing trust is complicated by secrets, duty, personal history, and the fact that Eisenhorn’s work places everyone around him in danger. The novel is stronger for that restraint. It understands that Eisenhorn’s position makes ordinary human relationships difficult, and that the pressure of the Inquisition can turn even loyalty into something painful.
If there is a weakness in Xenos, it is that the middle section can occasionally feel rushed. Abnett covers a lot of territory, introduces several important concepts, and puts Eisenhorn in contact with a broad cast of characters. Some supporting figures and locations are memorable but could have used a little more time to develop. The book also has the feeling of a first installment in a larger story, particularly as Eisenhorn’s moral compromises begin to take shape. Still, that is not a serious flaw. The novel provides a satisfying central investigation while clearly establishing bigger questions that continue through Malleus and Hereticus.
What ultimately makes Xenos such a successful novel is that it understands the appeal of Warhammer 40,000 without relying entirely on surface-level spectacle. The setting has no shortage of memorable imagery: skull-covered cathedrals, psychic powers, ancient alien technology, daemon-haunted worlds, and armies fighting endless wars across the stars. But Abnett gives all of that a purpose by focusing on a man trying to hold onto his principles in a universe that rewards ruthlessness. Eisenhorn is not merely fighting cultists, aliens, and supernatural conspiracies. He is fighting the possibility that protecting humanity may require him to become something he once would have condemned.
For longtime fans, Xenos offers a welcome change from stories focused solely on battlefield carnage. It shows the day-to-day machinery of the Imperium, the political paranoia beneath its religious language, and the hidden wars being fought far away from the front lines. For newcomers, it is an especially good entry point because it does not require prior knowledge of the tabletop game, its codices, or its enormous chronology. It introduces the setting’s major ideas through a compelling story rather than a lecture.
Xenos is suspenseful, violent, atmospheric, and smarter than many people may expect from a novel tied to a miniature wargame. Dan Abnett turns the colossal scale of Warhammer 40,000 into a strength, giving readers glimpses of a universe full of horrors while keeping the narrative centered on one investigation and one increasingly compromised man. It is a highly entertaining science-fiction thriller in its own right, but it is also one of the clearest demonstrations of why Warhammer 40,000 has endured for so long. If someone wants to take their first step into this massive fictional universe, Xenos is a smart place to start.
Whenever I watch 2010’s Birdemic, I wonder how the birds could possibly want to destroy a civilization that is capable of something like Hanging Out With My Family.
Today, the Shattered Lens wishes a happy birthday to director James Nguyen! Today’s scene that I love comes from Nguyen’s masterpiece, 2010’s Birdemic: Shock and Terror!
Those who claim that Brian De Palma stole too much from Hitchcock obviously never met James Nguyen.
4 Or More Shots From 4 Or More Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!
Happy birthday to director James Nguyen! It’s time for….
4 Shots From 4 Films: Special James Nguyen Edition
Julie and Jack (2003, dir by James Nguyen)
Replica (2005, dir by James Nguyen)
Birdemic (2010, dir by James Nguyen)
Birdemic 2: The Resurrection (2013, dir James Nguyen)
The music video for Sussudio was filmed at The Princess Victoria, a London pub that, at the time, was owned by Richard Branson.
This video was directed by Jim Yukich, a frequent Collins collaborator who has basically directed videos for everyone who was anybody in the music business.