Ray Young | Through the Shattered Lens

Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Thursdays, I will be reviewing Highway to Heaven, which aired on NBC from 1984 to 1989. The entire show is currently streaming on Freevee and several other services!

It’s time to get back on that highway!

Episode 2.12 “The Good Doctor”

(Dir by William Claxton, originally aired on December 18th, 1985)

This week, Mark is super-excited about Jonathan’s new assignment. They’re going to be working, as equipment managers, for a pro football team! Mark’s excited because he loves football and he can’t wait to meet his favorite player of all time, a banged-up, aging guy named Alex Carpenter (Ray Young).

Jonathan, however, is concerned that everyone is on drugs. Alex is in almost constant agony from his injuries and he’s gotten hooked on the pain pills that are provided to him by the team doctor, Dr. Dan Hickey (Michael Constantine). Dan is hooked on pills himself, along with being an alcoholic. Dan is such an addict that he doesn’t even realize that his son, medical student Neal (William Kirby Cullen), is now abusing drugs himself. Everyone’s an addict and everyone’s in denial.

When Alex gets cut from the team, he is also cut off from his main supplier and soon, he’s tearing up his house while searching for any leftover pills. (Jonathan appears and loudly encourages him to destroy his entire office while searching, presumably so Alex can see how out-of-control his addiction is.) When Neal takes too many pills before his next exam, he ends up in the hospital. And Dan is finally forced to admit that he hasn’t been a good doctor.

Does this episode end at a Narcotics Anonymous meeting, attended by all three of the addicts? You better believe it!

This was pretty much a typical Highway to Heaven episode. This message was earnest and heartfelt but the direction and the script totally embraced the episode’s already heightened melodrama. It wasn’t enough for Alex to get upset over not being able to find his pills. Instead, he had to furiously toss everything around his office (and even break a window) while Jonathan shouted, “WHERE ARE THE PILLS, ALEX!? WHERE ARE THEY!?” It wasn’t enough for Dan to overprescribe pills. He also had to be so drunk that he didn’t even notice when Jonathan materialized in his office. And, of course, Neal had to OD because there was no way we were going to end this episode without someone being rushed to the hospital. It was all a bit predictable but the show wasn’t incorrect when it came to discussing the dangers of abusing even prescription medication. If the show aired today, the enemy would be fentanyl. Since it was made in 1985, the enemy is instead just generic pain pills.

As often was the case with this series, the acting was a mixed bag but Michael Constantine was certainly effective as the “good doctor,” wandering through his day in a haze of pills and alcohol. And Michael Landon delivered his denunciation of drugs with a quiet fury that let you know that he meant every word of it.

Next week, Jonathan and Mark help a young man who is living alone.

(I wrote an earlier version of this review for HorrorCritic.Com.)

Occasionally, on twitter, I would take part in the Drive-In Mob live tweet session. Every Thursday night, a group of exploitation, grindhouse, and horror film fans gog together and watched the same film and, via twitter, provided their own running commentary track. It was always terrific fun and a good opportunity to discover some films that you might have otherwise missed. It was through the Drive-In Mob that I first discovered a low-budget cult classic from 1978, Blue Sunshine.

Blue Sunshine (directed by the underrated horror director Jeff Lieberman) opens in the late 1970s. Across California, people are suddenly going bald and turning psychotic. At a party, singer Frannie Scott (played by Richard Crystal) has a nervous breakdown when another reveler playfully pulls off his wig and reveals Frannie to be hairless. Frannie responds by tossing half of the guests into the fireplace and then running out into the night. He’s pursued by his best friend Jerry Zipkin (played by future director Zalman King) but when Frannie is accidentally killed while running away, Jerry finds himself accused of being a murderer. Even as the police pursue him, Jerry starts his own investigation. He quickly discovers that there’s an epidemic of bald people suddenly murdering those closest to them. The one thing that these people have in common: they all attended Stanford University in the late 1960s and they all used a powerful form of LSD known as “blue sunshine.” Now, ten years later, they’re all having the worst flashback imaginable.

And, perhaps most dangerously, the campus drug dealer, spoiled rich kid Edward Fleming (Mark Goddard), is on the verge of being elected to the U.S. Congress. Not only it is possible that Edward may have taken the acid himself but Edward and his campaign manager have their own reasons to try to make sure that Jerry never reveals the truth behind Blue Sunshine.

Blue Sunshine is probably one of the best of the old grindhouse films, a film that embraces the conventions of both the horror and the political thriller genres while, at the same time, neatly subverting our expectations. Director Jeff Lieberman emphasizes atmosphere over easy shocks and the film’s cast does a pretty good job of making us wonder who is normal and who has dropped the blue sunshine. Wisely, Lieberman doesn’t resort to giving us any easy villains in this film. Much like the best horror films, the monsters in Blue Sunshine are as much victims as victimizers. I especially sympathized by one poor woman who was driven to rip off her wig by the sound of two particularly obnoxious children chanting, “We want Dr. Pepper!” over and over again. Seriously, that’s enough to drive anyone crazy.

Blue Sunshine is one of those wonderfully odd little cult films that makes me thankful that I own a DVD player. First released in 1978, Blue Sunshine mixes psychological horror with political conspiracy and the end result is an unusually intelligent B-movie that remains relevant even when seen today. Blue Sunshine was originally released on DVD by Synapse Entertainment and it has since been re-released by the New Video Group. I own the Synapse edition, which features a very entertaining director’s commentary with Jeff Lieberman as well as a bonus CD of the film’s haunting and atmospheric score.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vJAAZZiFQ1Y