Cliffhung

Above is the foreword of Chapter Eight of THE RETURN OF CHANDU (The Edge of the Pit). Deathless prose. And below is the foreword of Chapter Nine (The Invisible Terror).

And here’s the foreword from Episode Ten (The Crushing Rock):

The makers of CHANDU seem to be economizing not only in props, sets and actors, but in forewords. In other (fore)words, NOTHING has been accomplished. Princess Nadji is still (patiently) awaiting the hour of her sacrifice and Chandu is still (tirelessly) striving to rescue her. How is this possible?

Well, in multiplying the traditional three (or arguably four) act structure to a dozen or so, most serials resort to what I call “running around.” Usually in corridors or tunnels. At the end of a corridor or a tunnel you might meet a friend or a foe and something might happen, but not something that changes the basic scenario. Keeping somebody captive and simply introducing side-quests or threats is a useful alternative to rescuing them only to have them get captured yet again. Stasis as a variation on repetition. You can see this pattern even in some purportedly high-class TV series.

True, in Episode Eight Frank “Chandu” Chandler makes a new friend, the White Witch, who he finds in a pit. For one exciting moment I thought the old fellow might be the Yogi with whom Uncle Frank has regular telepathic discourse. It would be really great if the patient discorporeal sage who regularly advises Unc Francis to “Have faith” had been captive in a dirty hole all this time. What a revelation! But no. But there is nevertheless a treat for connoisseurs of impoverished cinema: a very long conversation without a reverse angle. Admittedly, it’s a nice shot. And a good thing too, it’s about a minute and a half long, with brief cutaways.

Also in Episode Eight Chandu appears at the captive Princess’s window to reassure her. Probably the only case on record of Bela Lugosi appearing at somebody’s window being reassuring to them. Rather sweet. That sweetness is, I think, what we’re watching for. Another example is the way Bela sweats and puffs and looks seriously distraught in any “action” scene — I like to think this is Bela’s deliberate decision — Frank is a lover, not a fighter — and not just a regrettable consequence of the actor being out of shape.

If you enjoy the pit discussion, I have good news: it’s repeated in its entirety in the recap to Episode Nine, along with the very lengthy “swinging from a loose chain over a tiger pit” that forms the literal cliffhanger of Ep. 8. The chain snaps in 8 and in 9 Bela fails to fall into the pit, being caught by his long-bearded, long-winded pal, who is apparently of the lean-but-wiry persuasion. Almost half of Episode Nine is recap.

FULLY half of Episode Ten is a recap of Ep. 9‘s pendulum-blade suspense climax, but those responsible were not content with that: they then have Uncle captured and forced to gaze into a sacrificial/magic flame, which shows him visions — visions of things from previous episodes. It looks as if this is going to eat up the rest of the show, but they stop flashbacking around Episode Five or so and then get on with the plot: Bela is chained to the cave floor while a boulder is methodically lowered on to him, an action extended by editing to become virtual endless, a Sisyphean ordeal for both victim and torturer.

I can hardly wait for Episode Eleven, The Uplifted Knife, in this theater next week! I hotly anticipate “supervisor” Frank Melford, clearly asleep at the wheel, delivering an installment in which the recap begins three episodes back, eats up the full running time, and ends some place before the previous cliffhanger. This is already a meta-serial in the making, it just needs to go that extra mile (preferably in reverse).