Late Night Retro Television Reviews: Highway to Heaven 1.15 “One Winged Angels”

Posted on January 4, 2024 by Lisa Marie Bowman

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 Tubi and several other services!

This week, Jonathan falls in love.

Episode 1.15 “One Winged Angel”

(Dir by Michael Landon, originally aired on January 16th, 1985)

This week, Jonathan’s mission seems simple.

Libby Hall (Robin Dearden) is a widow who owns a small hotel, one that she manages with her mother (Peggy McCay). Libby’s son, Max (a young Wil Wheaton), has been struggling without a father figure in his life and has reached the point where he now regularly acts out and refuses to obey his mother. He’s so obnoxious that guests will often check out of the hotel early rather than spend another minute around him. The owner of the local gas station, Earl (John Lawlor), has a crush on Libby but he is too shy to ask her out. It doesn’t help that Earl knew Libby’s late husband and he feels guilty about liking her.

When Jonathan and Mark show up at the hotel, it’s obvious what is meant to happen. Jonathan just has to help Max deal with his anger and help Earl summon up the courage to ask out Libby. Jonathan says that mission is so simple that Mark can spend the whole week fishing. Mark’s excited about that!

Except …. uh-oh! Jonathan starts to fall in love with Libby and Libby starts to fall for him. Max is soon looking up to Jonathan and asking him if he wants to throw the old football around. Earl can only watch helplessly. Jonathan explains to Mark that he knows what his mission is but he can’t help how he feels about Libby. Mark suggests that maybe “the boss” wants Jonathan to be reminded of what it feels like to be human.

Well, no worries! With Jonathan struggling with his feelings, Mark takes it upon himself to go out fishing with Earl. He tells Earl that he and Jonathan travel from town to town, get involved in people’s lives, and then move on. Mark isn’t lying but Earl takes it to mean that Jonathan is just leading Libby on. This gives Earl the courage to tell Jonathan how he feels about Libby (and to also tell Jonathan not to hurt her). Realizing the Libby and Earl are meant to be together, Jonathan checks out of the hotel and tells Libby and Max that it’s time for him to move on. Libby and especially Max are upset but things brighten up when Earl shows up. He not only offers to give Max a job at the garage (and to also throw around the football with the kid) but he finally asks Libby out on a date.

This was a pretty sad episode, all things considered. Earl and Libby are finally together and it’s obvious that they belong together but Jonathan is still really depressed as Mark drives him out of town. But, seriously, Jonathan had to know about the dangers of falling in love with a human woman. As an angel, he has surely read the Book of Enoch and knows about the Nephilim. All that aside, this was a very sincere and a very earnest episode about lost love and it was nicely done.

A Movie A Day #185: Emperor of the North Pole (1973, directed by Robert Aldrich)

Posted on July 12, 2017 by Jedadiah Leland

Emperor of the North Pole is the story of depression-era hobos and one man who is determined to kill them.

The year is 1933 and Shack (Ernest Borgnine) is one of the toughest conductors around. At a time when destitute and desperate men are riding the rails in search of work and food, Shack has declared that no one will ride his train for free. When Shack is first introduced, the sadistic conductor is seen shoving a hobo off of his train and onto the tracks. Shack smiles with satisfaction when the man is chopped in half under the train’s wheels.

A-No.1 (Lee Marvin) is a legend, the unofficial king of the hobos. A grizzled veteran, A-No. 1 has been riding the rails for most of his life. (The title comes from the hobo saying that great hobos, like A-No. 1, are like the Emperor of the North Pole, the ruler of a vast wasteland). A-No. 1 is determined to do what no hobo has ever done, successfully hitch a ride on Shack’s train. He even tags a water tower, announcing to everyone that he intends to take Shack’s train all the way to Portland.

If A-No. 1 did not have enough to worry about with Shack determined to get him, he is also being tailed by Cigaret (Keith Carradine), a young and cocky hobo who is determined to become as big a legend as A-No. 1. Cigaret and A. No. 1 may work together but they never trust each other.

Like many of Robert Aldrich’s later films, Emperor of the North Pole is too long and the rambling narrative often promises more than it can deliver. Like almost all movies that were released at the time, Emperor of North Pole attempts to turn its story into a contemporary allegory, with Shack standing in for the establishment, A-No. 1 representing the liberal anti-establishment, and, most problematically, Cigaret serving as a symbol for the callow counter culture, eager to take credit for A-No. 1’s accomplishments but not willing to put in any hard work himself.

As an allegory, Emperor of the North Pole is too heavy-handed but, as a gritty adventure film, it works wonderfully. Lee Marvin is perfectly cast as the wise, no-nonsense A-No. 1. This was the sixth film in which Marvin and Borgnine co-starred and the two old pros both go at each other with gusto. Carradine does the best he can with an underwritten part but this is Borgnine and Marvin’s film all the way. Marvin’s trademark underacting meshes perfectly with Borgnine’s trademark overacting, with the movie making perfect use of both men’s distinctive screen personas. As staged by Aldrich, the final fight between Shack and A-No. 1 is a classic.

Even at a time when almost every anti-establishment film of the early 70s is being rediscovered, Emperor of the North Pole remains unjustly obscure. When it was first released, it struggled at the box office. Unsure of how to sell a movie about hobos and worrying that audiences were staying away because they thought it might be a Christmas film, 20th Century Fox pulled the movie from circulation and then rereleased it under a slightly altered name: Emperor of the North. As far as titles go, Emperor of the North makes even less sense than Emperor of the North Pole. Even with the title change, Emperor of the North Pole flopped at the box office but, fortunately for him, Aldrich was already working on what would become his biggest hit: The Longest Yard.

Keep an eye out for Lance Henriksen, in one of his earliest roles. Supposedly, he plays a railroad worker. If you spot him, let me know because I have watched Emperor of the North Pole three times and I still can’t find him.

A Movie A Day #152: Bad Company (1972, directed by Robert Benton)

Posted on June 9, 2017 by Jedadiah Leland

Missouri during the Civil War. All young men are being forcibly constricted into the Union army, leaving those who want to avoid service with only two options: they can either disguise themselves as a woman and hope that the soldiers are fooled or they can head out west. Drew Dixon (Barry Brown) opts for the latter solution but his plans hit a snag when he’s robbed and pistol-whipped by Jake Rumsey (Jeff Bridges). When Drew coincidentally meets Jake for a second time, he immediately attacks him. Jake is so impressed that he insists that Drew join his gang of thieves.

Jake’s gang, which include two brothers (one of whom is played by John Savage) and a ten year-old boy, is hardly the wild bunch. They spend most of their time robbing children and are, themselves, regularly robbed by other gangs, including the one run by Big Joe (David Huddleston). Their attempt to rob a stagecoach goes hilariously wrong. Less hilarious is what happens when they try to steal a pie from a window sill.

Bad Company was the directorial debut of Robert Benton and it has the same combination of comedy and fatalism that distinguished both his script for Bonnie and Clyde and several of the other revisionist westerns of the 1970s. While the interplay between Drew and Jake may remind some of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the film’s sudden bursts of violence feel like pure Peckinpah. Fortunately, the combination of Robert Benton’s low-key direction and the excellent performances of Jeff Bridges and Barry Brown allows Bad Company to stand on its own. Brown and Bridges make for an excellent team, with Bridges giving a charismatic, devil-may-care performance and the late Barry Brown holding his own as the more grounded Drew. (Sadly, Brown, who appears to have had the talent to be a huge star, committed suicide six years after the release of Bad Company.) This unjustly forgotten western is one of the best films of the 1970s.