The Stranger Within (1974)

          Celebrated fantasy author Richard Matheson was banging out TV scripts seemingly by the gross during the early ’70s, notching such indelible hits as Duel (1971), The Night Stalker (1972), and Trilogy of Terror (1975), so it’s understandable that not all of his projects were winners. Some, like The Stranger Within, are trifles containing interesting ideas and passable suspense sequences, even if they’re forgettable and somewhat pointless. In The Stranger Within, a woman becomes pregnant under mysterious circumstances—her husband had a vasectomy years earlier, and she swears she’s been faithful—then experiences bizarre changes in personality and physiology as the child inside her develops at an abnormal rate. Any resemblances to the theatrical blockbuster Rosemary’s Baby (1968) are strictly unintentional, although Matheson keeps an ace up his sleeve to ensure that The Stranger Within doesn’t rehash the demonic denouement of Rosemary’s Baby.

          Whenever the movie is really cooking, albeit never at more than low heat, it’s fun to ponder the story’s inherent mysteries and to sympathize with the anger, confusion, and fear experienced by the protagonist’s husband while his wife transforms. Given the constraints of a 74-minute running time, there’s only so deep into emotional terrain Matheson can take this material, and he seems more concerned with giving viewers the heebie-jeebies, anyway. That being the case, think of The Stranger Within as a Twilight Zone episode stretched to a longer-than-necessary length, and you get the idea.

          As for the specifics, Barbara Eden, the onetime I Dream of Jeannie starlet who does nothing here to erase her reputation as an ornamental actress, plays a housewife married to a college professor. When her doctor reveals that she’s pregnant, the professor (George Grizzard) tries to respond with compassion and pragmatism, despite the unavoidable implication of betrayal. As the housewife’s behavior gets weirder and weirder—an endless appetite for salt, scars that appear and then magically disappear—worries about infidelity give way to worries about the true nature of the unborn child. The Stranger Within is mildly entertaining, and it’s fun to see future Charlie’s Angels sidekick David Doyle playing a serious role as a friend of the unlucky family. Nonetheless, only those with deep affection for Eden, Matheson, or ’70s sci-fi TV should bother tracking this one down, and even those folks should lower expectations accordingly.

The Stranger Within: FUNKY

The Doberman Gang (1972) & The Daring Dobermans (1973) & The Amazing Dobermans (1976)

          Perhaps the only thing harder to believe than the existence of three crime procedurals about dogs committing robberies is that the Walt Disney Company had nothing to do with the pictures. Rather than being family-friendly romps, these pictures are dramas with comedic elements, and in fact the first one includes a bloody mauling—not exactly the stuff of normal G-rated fare. Although the Doberman movies aren’t particularly well-crafted, suffering from indifferent direction and weak acting, the scripts have a certain methodical quality. The people behind the series were producer David Chudnow and his son, TV-editor-turned-feature-director Byron Ross Chudnow, though the real credit should go to the various animal trainers involved in the series. While onscreen dog behavior is juiced through editing (thereby hiding from viewers offscreen commands and/or interludes between different stunts), the canines’ seemingly endless bag of tricks is impressive.

          The first movie, The Doberman Gang, follows the exploits of career criminal Eddie (Byron Mabe), who wants a foolproof means of pulling heists. After watching security dogs take down invaders at a junkyard, he concocts the idea of training dogs to commit robberies. Eddie enlists the aid of Barney (Hal Reed), a U.S. Air Force animal trainer, by claiming that he wants to start a legitimate training business with Barney. After spending weeks training six Dobermans at a remote location alongside Eddie, Eddie’s girlfriend (Julie Parrish), and two of Eddie’s thuggish ex-con pals, Barney gets hip to what’s happening. Then the relationship among the conspirators starts to unravel in predictable ways. Attempts at wit in The Amazing Dobermans are anemic, such as naming the dogs after famous criminals (Bonnie, Clyde, Dillinger, etc.), and the songs played during dreary montages are truly terrible. Still, the lengthy heist scene is exciting simply because of novelty, and the Chudnows thrown in enough twists to keep things moving along.

          Without giving away the ending of the first film, it’s enough to say that at the beginning of The Daring Dobermans, the dogs are on the loose, still carrying loot from the big heist. Law-enforcement officials and vigilantes search in vain for the animals, but working-stiff buddies Greg (David Moses), Steve (Charles Robinson), and Warren (Tim Considine) hit the jackpot. Greg uses an oscillator to create high-pitched frequencies in order to summon the dogs. Overcome with greed, the dudes decide to train the Dobermans for a new mission, even building a facility out in the desert. This attracts the attention of Billy (Claudio Martinez), a poor Native American youth who likes animals and, initially, doesn’t realize the men are planning a crime. The plot of The Daring Dobermans is even more outlandish than that of the first film, and the characterizations are just as thin. However, like its predecessor, The Daring Dobermans comes alive, somewhat, during the big heist. Further, the picture largely avoids the cute-kid stuff one might expect from the Billy storyline, opting instead to employ Billy as a mirror reflecting the awfulness of the lead characters. (The human ones, that is—the Dobermans, as always, are blameless.)

          A jolt of star power wasn’t nearly enough to justify the existence of the next installment, The Amazing Dobermans. Rather than continuing the story of the previous films, The Amazing Dobermans casts five dogs as new “characters.” As for the two-legged cast, tanned and vapid James Franciscus stars as Lucky, a low-rent con man on the run from  loan sharks. He’s rescued from attackers by kindly and religious Daniel (Fred Astaire), an ex-con who learned animal handling while in prison and now travels the country with his five dogs, hiring out the team for security work. Later, when Lucky befriends circus clown Samson (Billy Barty), Lucky recruits Daniel and his canines to form a new circus act. Concurrently, Lucky romances Justine (Barbara Eden), who performs a horse-riding act in the circus. All this stuff comes together in a convoluted heist/sting sequence. The Amazing Dobermans is the dullest of the three flicks, especially when composer Alan Silvestri scores montages with hideous disco/lounge jams, and the movie’s tepid light comedy is hard to take. Franciscus does his damnedest to sell the whole enterprise, Eden looks attractive in her spangly bikini costumes, and Astaire somehow retains his dignity. But seeing as how the “highlight” of The Amazing Dobermans is a dog performing a high-wire act, it’s clear the series had run its course—and then some.

          Nonetheless, the talented canines returned in the made-for-TV flick Alex and the Doberman Gang (1980), again directed by Byron Ross Chudnow.

The Doberman Gang: FUNKY

The Daring Dobermans: FUNKY

The Amazing Dobermans: FUNKY

Harper Valley P.T.A. (1978)

Starring former I Dream of Jeannie sexpot Barbara Eden as a sassy Southern single mom, drab comedy Harper Valley P.T.A. was of course extrapolated from the 1968 story-song “Harper Valley P.T.A.,” which was written by Tom T. Hall and sung by Jeannie C. Reilly. Hall’s pithy little narrative about a woman who gives small-town busybodies a good talking-to after they criticize her parenting was a No. 1 smash on both country and pop radio. The first 15 minutes of the movie adaptation deliver the story content of the song right down to featuring lyrics in dialogue; fans of the tune can rest assured that Eden recites the song’s familiar put-down, “This is just a Peyton Place, and you’re all Harper Valley hypocrites!” After the song’s narrative runs its course, the filmmakers contrive a thin story about the heroine’s tormenters—the members of the titular Harper Valley Parent Teachers Association—ostracizing Stella Johnson (Eden) after her angry speech. She returns the favor by staging humiliating pranks that expose the P.T.A. members as drunks, liars, nymphomaniacs, thieves, and so on. Subplots, such as they are, involve Stella falling for a local businessman (Ronny Cox) and nurturing her ugly-duckling daughter (Susan Swift). The movie’s production values are passable, but the acting is lifeless, the dialogue is trite, the physical comedy is crude without actually being outrageous, and the plotting is moronic, so there’s not much reason to watch Harper Valley P.T.A. except to wallow in predictability and to admire Eden’s famous figure, which is on (fully clothed) display in every scene.

Harper Valley PTA: LAME