Anna Massey brings Beauty and Humanity to Michael Powell's "Peeping Tom"

The first time I ever saw director Michael Powell's disturbing masterpiece "Peeping Tom" (1960) was on a late night airing on the KHJ Channel 9 TV station in Los Angeles in the mid-1980s.  As I realized years later, after having watched the movie again on DVD, the Channel 9 airing did not appear to have edited much of its violent and sexual content for television because the print was in color and I was able to recognize many of the scenes I witnessed from that first viewing.  In that sense, I feel fortunate that I was given as appropriate an introduction to "Peeping Tom" as possible, given the fact that the movie was attacked and censored in the U.K. upon its original release and also because the original U.S. theatrical release was in black and white and was edited by at least 15 minutes.  "Peeping Tom" is a brilliant film but I admit that it would be hard to watch if it weren't for the sympathetic performance of lovely Anna Massey as the sweet young woman who doesn't realize that the mysterious man living upstairs from her in a London boarding house is actually a serial killer of women.  Massey's pure and wholesome presence strikes a refreshing contrast to the seedy nature of the rest of the movie and gives the audience someone to identify with and root for.

Karl Boehm stars in "Peeping Tom" as the homicidal and disturbed Mark Lewis, an aspiring film director working as a focus puller at a film studio in London who also works part time as a nudie photographer of glamorous women.  Unbeknownst to everyone, Mark is a serial killer who has been murdering women throughout the city by filming their terrified faces up close as he is murdering them.  He does this by attaching a mirror and light to his film camera, so that the women can see their own expression of fear just as he kills them with a sharp spear attached to one of the legs of his camera tripod.  Mark is obsessed with capturing images of terror in people's faces because his late psychologist father used to film and audio record images of Mark being frightened as a young child in order to study how fear affects the nervous system.  He still lives in the same house that he grew up in and rents out rooms in order to help pay for the upkeep.

Mark's complex life becomes even more so when he strikes up a friendship with the lovely young Helen Stephens, played by Anna Massey, who lives with her blind, alcoholic mother Mrs. Stephens (Maxine Audley) on the first floor of Mark's house.  Helen, who works in the children's section of a library, strikes up a friendship with Mark and asks him to help her illustrate a children's book that she has had accepted for publication.  Mark opens up to Helen about the experiments his father used to perform on him, which evokes a sense of compassion from Helen, and the two become close.  Mrs. Stephens, however, suspects something is amiss with Mark and asks him to seek psychological counseling and to stay away from her daughter.  As the police start closing in on Mark, Helen stumbles upon the films that Mark has made chronicling his murderous crimes and, in so doing, puts herself in jeopardy of becoming his next victim.

Anna Massey gives a winning and sympathetic performance as Helen, the one person who genuinely cares for Mark and has only his best interests at heart.  We first see Helen celebrating her 21st birthday party with friends and other neighbors in the boarding house when Mark is spotted peering into the window spying upon the party goers.  Rather than being put-off, Helen uses it as an opportunity to try and invite the reclusive and withdrawn Mark to join the festivities.  She later brings Mark a slice of birthday cake and, upon learning he is an aspiring filmmaker, asks if she can see some of his films.  When Mark shows Helen filmed footage that his father took of his experiments while frightening Mark as a child, she is disturbed and unsettled by what she sees.  Anna Massey is particularly good throughout this scene, demonstrating the proper sense of revulsion at reacting to what Mark is showing her.  But, rather than turning her off to Mark, the realization that he has been deeply hurt as a child only serves to make Helen more compassionate and interested in him.

I think this has to do with the fact that Helen lives with her blind and alcoholic mother, who is a very self-aware and caring woman but suffers from an underlying sense of bitterness over losing her sight.  What's amazing about Helen's personality is that she doesn't appear to have been psychologically damaged by her mother the way other people might be by their troubled parents.  I think Helen demonstrates strength of character in not allowing her mother's drinking problem and bitterness to adversely affect her.  I believe that Helen's experiences with her mother have allowed her to be sensitive to the needs of others who have a complex relationship with their own parents.  That's why I believe Helen has such interest and compassion for Mark.  She recognizes how Mark's father has hurt him and tries to provide a sense of friendship and moral support to help him rise above his difficult upbringing.  The fact that Helen doesn't outright reject Mark after having watched his father's cruel experimental films, where young Mark is emotionally tortured, makes her a very admirable individual because of her inherent sense of patience and tolerance.

My favorite scene in the movie is the one where Mark gives Helen a belated birthday present of a jeweled dragonfly pendant, after which Helen asks Mark to help her work on a children's book that has been accepted by a publisher.  Even though Mark is at first unnerved when he learns that Helen's children book is about a magic camera that photographs images of adults as they once were as children, I like the sense of genuine enthusiasm that Mark feels about Helen's book project.  You can tell that Mark is sincerely flattered and moved that Helen has sought out his consultation and knowledge as a photographer that he volunteers to take the photos himself in order to help Helen.  The scene is very touching and tragic all at once, because you can sense the deepening feelings that Mark and Helen feel for one another, but you also realize that their relationship potential is limited since he is mentally disturbed and has already killed several women.

I also like the sequence when Helen and Mark have a dinner date and Helen encourages Mark not to bring his camera and photographic equipment along on the date.  As Helen points out to Mark, before they leave for the restaurant, "I don't think I've ever seen you without it.  But are you going to need it tonight?  Well, are you and, if so, shall I bring some work with me too?"  Helen urges Mark to either let her leave the camera and photographic equipment in her room downstairs, or take it up to his own room because "I thought it (the camera) was growing into an extra limb."  With her gentle encouragement, Mark is able to leave his camera behind for once in his life and he is able to genuinely enjoy himself while at dinner with her.  Helen is trying to teach Mark to become independent and to not continue carrying the psychological burdens of his past.

During their date, Helen describes the images she needs for her children's book of images taken by a magical camera that capture adults as they once were as children.  As they return from their dinner date, Mark becomes so excited by Helen's project that he tells her "There's not a single face in the crowd that doesn't look like a child, not a single one, if you catch it at the right moment...Oh Helen, I would like to find those faces for you, with you."  In so doing, we see how Helen is able to help Mark channel his photographic talents and skills towards something positive.  We see how Mark's life could have taken a turn for the better if the two of them were acquainted before he had become a killer.

As Helen and Mark's relationship develops, we sense how Mark has become protective of her in order to ensure that he never comes to harm her.  Mark objects when Helen playfully holds his camera and then turns the camera towards herself, announcing with determination "Not you...It will never see you.  Whatever I photograph, I always lose."  I particularly like the scene when Helen's mother, Mrs. Stephens, confronts Mark in his room with her concerns about his mental state.  The thing that's interesting about this scene is that, even though Mrs. Stephens is worried about Mark's influence on her daughter, she never gets excessively cruel with him, even though he frightens her and almost kills Mrs. Stephens when he turns the camera on her.  For once, Mark reigns in his homicidal urges, partly because Mrs. Stephens admonishes him to "put that camera away" but also because he realizes that hurting Helen's mother will destroy his relationship with Helen.

Despite her inherent harshness and bitterness, and despite how she confronts Mark by getting to the root of his disturbances with her rhetorical questioning, Mrs. Stephens informs Mark that her instincts tell her "all this filming isn't healthy and that you need help.  Get it, Mark.  Get it quickly.  And, until you do, I don't want you and Helen to see each other."  When Mark promises Mrs. Stephens, "I will never photograph her.  I promise you."  Mrs. Stephens continues, "I'd rather you don't have the chance.  I mean it, Mark.  And, if you don't listen to me, one of us will move from this house.  It would be a pity, because we'd never find a cheaper place."  When Mark promises her that they will never have to move because of him, Mrs. Stephens takes Mark by the hand and approvingly says "Good boy."  Mrs. Stephens is protective of Helen, but she's not cruel about it with Mark.  She doesn't denigrate him the way another concerned parent might in a similar situation and Maxine Audley's surprisingly sympathetic performance allows one to see where Helen's inherent sense of humanity and compassion came from.

However, "Peeping Tom" must come to its inevitably tragic conclusion as the police begin closing in on Mark just as Helen realizes he is a homicidal maniac.  As Helen leaves a manuscript of her book in Mark's room as a gift, she turns on his movie projector out of curiosity.  While watching what she eventually realizes are snuff film images of women reacting in horror at witnessing their own deaths in the mirror Mark has attached to his camera, a frightened Helen backs away in terror and walks right into Mark's arms.  Anna Massey is particularly good throughout this sequence.  In one take, Massey is able to demonstrate Helen's gradually growing sense of curiosity, amusement, confusion, realization, and horror as she watches Mark's snuff films.  We realize how much Helen means to Mark when he tells her "Don't let me see you are frightened.  So leave, hurry up!"  He has no intention of harming her at all.  However, Helen refuses to leave until Mark has explained to her what these snuff film images mean.  "That film...that film...that film is just a film isn't it?  It's horrible...Horrible, but it's just a film isn't it?"  When Mark admits that the film is real, he tells Helen "You'll be safe as long as I can't see you frightened.  So stand in the shadows please."

 
Mark begins to explain how his father took audio recordings and films of his experiments in order to document his efforts to make Mark suffer from being frightened and that all the rooms in the house are wired for sound and that he's recorded conversations in every rooms.  Helen admonishes Mark to look at her and tell her what exactly he did with those girls.  "What did you do to those girls?  What did you do?  If you want to torment me for the rest of my life, then make me imagine.  What did you do to those girls?  Show me...Show me or I'll remain frightened for the rest of my life.  Show me!"  In so doing, Helen demonstrates how deeply she loves Mark that she'd rather know what he did with those girls, rather than allow her imagination to haunt her the rest of her life, by creating images in her mind that might be even worse than the reality, of something that someone she is in love with has committed.  Helen's admonition is for her own peace of mind and not out of morbid curiosity, and demonstrates Helen's strength of character that she doesn't want to spend her life in a state of denial about who Mark was.

Because Helen is such a realist in touch with her own emotions, she is able to contain her reactions and not show her fear when Mark takes out his camera equipment, with the sharp tripod leg, mirror, and light that he killed the other women with, and trains it on Helen.  In fact, rather than fearing for herself, Helen selflessly admits "I'm frightened for you."  Helen looks away and maintains a stoic expression in the face of danger in order to ensure her own safety in Mark's presence so that he doesn't become compelled to kill her as well.  Even though she loves Mark, she urges him to turn himself in to the police, who have surrounded the house, so that he can face the consequences of his actions.  Helen tries to stop Mark when he turns the camera on himself, apologizes by telling her "I wish I could have found your faces for you" and commits suicide by impaling himself onto the tripod leg.  As the movie ends, director Powell's camera lingers on the manuscript for Helen's children's book, where she had playfully inscribed just moments earlier, "From One Magic Camera which needs the help of Another!"  In so doing, Powell brings this tragic love story to its appropriate conclusion.

Karl Boehm and Anna Massey have an endearing chemistry throughout "Peeping Tom" that allows their relationship to transcend the sort of colorless romantic scenes that pad out the running times of other horror thrillers.  In this instance, the romantic subplot isn't a mere formality, and Helen herself is not simply a plot device to help resolve the story, because director Powell uses both to help illuminate Mark's inherent humanity despite his evil and homicidal acts.  Helen brings out the best in Mark and allows this tragic and dangerous individual to still come across as unexpectedly sympathetic, a morally troubling artistic decision that explains the negative reaction this film has had with some viewers.  Helen's presence and influence in the movie demonstrates the sort of bright future Mark could have had in his life if he had not already crossed the line by becoming a killer.  Throughout "Peeping Tom," we want to see Mark and Helen have a happy ending, but know that such a conclusion is simply not possible because Mark must face the consequences of the murders he has committed.

Anna Massey is superb at demonstrating Helen's intelligence, courage, compassion, and integrity.  She clearly loves Mark, even after learning he is a killer, but doesn't try to justify his actions.  The fact that she urges him to turn himself in at the end, doesn't offer to go on the lam with him, and tries to discourage him from killing himself demonstrates what a realist that she is.  Despite her love her him, she knows that there's no hope for a future with him and wants him to do the right thing in what little time he has left so that he can pay for his crimes.  Helen's insistence at knowing the truth about Mark, and her courage by not showing fear on her face when Mark films her with his camera, shows her to be a stronger "final girl" than other horror movie heroines who resort to physical violence, rather than demonstrating emotional and psychological strength and assertiveness, while directly confronting a homicidal killer.  As such, one of the many reasons why "Peeping Tom" holds up beautifully as a genuine cinematic masterpiece over 50 years later is because of the sympathetic human dimension that Anna Massey's Helen brings to the movie. 

Shannon Tweed Guest Stars on A Very Special Episode of "Cagney & Lacey"

Shannon Tweed is best known these days as Gene Simmons' wife, after having been his longtime companion for years, as well as a reality TV personality for A&E's "Gene Simmons Family Jewels."  She is also one of the most successful Playboy Playmates-turned-actresses, having built a long, accomplished, and prolific list of credits in movies and television since the early 1980s.  She was a regular on "Falcon Crest" during its second season (1982-83) as well as on "Days of Our Lives" (1985-86) and the HBO comedy series "1st and Ten" (1989-91).  Because of her looks and Playboy background (she was Playmate of the Year in 1982) she eventually found herself typecast while starring in a series of erotic thrillers in the 1990s that went straight-to-video or played on Cinemax.  What's been overlooked is the fact that Shannon Tweed is actually a very capable actress who has given good performances throughout her career, which is reflected in her longevity and prolificacy.  Her Playboy image still limits her opportunities, but she has done comparatively better than most other Playmates who have attempted to venture in acting (the other exception being Stella Stevens).  Probably one of Tweed's more notable acting roles was her guest appearance in the "Cagney & Lacey" episode entitled "Role Call" that aired November 3, 1986 on CBS.

Tweed guest-starred as glamorous TV star Vicki Barrington, of the fictional cop show "NYPD" where she plays police detective DeeDee St. James, who hides her gun in her brassiere, frequently goes undercover as a prostitute, and nabs her suspects by calling out "Hold it, big boy!"  With the cooperation of the Mayor of New York, Vicki has come to spend a week with real police detectives as a civilian observer in an effort to better understand what they do for a living and to try and bring "realism" to the series.  Vicki requests to be assigned to follow two female police detectives, which results in her accompanying detectives Christine Cagney (Sharon Gless) and Mary Beth Lacey (Tyne Daly) in the course of their regular duties.  Cagney immediately resents Vicki's presence and goes out of her way to intimidate and humiliate Vicki in order to discourage her from continuing to observe them all week.  Meanwhile, to the surprise and annoyance of Cagney, Vicki immediately bonds with Lacey when both women discuss their children (Vicki is a single-mother of a young daughter) and the two seemingly dissimilar women become fast friends with one another.

When an unsuspecting Vicki inadvertently walks into the middle of a stakeout, followed by the media, and causes the suspect to slip away, Cagney wants her sent back in Los Angeles and have it officially noted that Vicki caused the suspect to escape.  However, Vicki apologizes to Lt. Samuels (Al Waxman) over the incident and is allowed to continue observing Cagney and Lacey.  After witnessing a heated exchange in the ladies room between Vicki and Cagney, a compassionate Lacey brings Vicki home for dinner, where she immediately charms Lacey's husband Harvey (John Karlen) and her children.  The next day, when Cagney argues with Lacey over why she likes Vicki, Lacey diplomatically reminds Cagney that she has spent years observing Cagney using her good-looks and charm to her advantage in the course of performing police work.  Lacey reasons, if it's all right for Cagney to do that, why isn't it all right for Vicki?  As Vicki's week winds down, she asks Cagney and Lacey if they will pose with her for a publicity photograph.  When Cagney refuses, the two women have it out once and for all.  Vicki informs Cagney that she's not there to denigrate her police work, and has had to face her own sets of challenges in forging a successful career.  Vicki says she would have hoped Cagney would be able to sympathize with her because they've both paid their dues.  Perhaps realizing that she may have taken her resentment of Vicki a bit too far, Cagney agrees to pose with Vicki and Lacey for a photo at the end.

A comparatively humorous and light-hearted episode, the "Role Call" segment nevertheless resonates because of the way it addresses the sorts of objectification, stereotyping and resentment that men and women feel towards glamorous, seemingly entitled individuals like Vicki.  The men in the 14th Precinct, bowled over by Vicki's beauty, glamor, and presence, spend the entire week hovering around her, asking for autographs, referring to her by her TV character's name, and calling out in-unison "Hello DeeDee!" or "Goodbye DeeDee!" whenever she arrives or exits.  In so doing, they never really see her as a genuine, flesh-and-blood individual and only regard her as a sex object.  Moreover, before he ever meets her, Lacey's husband Harvey dismisses Vicki as a "plastic Hollywood bimbo" and assumes she's a shallow and superficial individual only interested in getting more publicity for the show by spending the week at the Precinct.  Cagney resents Vicki because she feels that her TV show makes a mockery of police work and finds her presence as a civilian observer for the week condescending and patronizing.  Cagney feels that Vicki cannot begin to grasp the reality of police work and objects to her romanticization of the mundane aspects of her career.

To the surprise of everyone, including the audience, the only person who gives Vicki a chance and sincerely tries to show her what police work is about is the brassy, working class Lacey.  Lacey seems genuinely flattered that Vicki is interested in learning more about who she is as an individual and how she approaches her duties as a police detective and gives her a chance.  Lacey continually tells Cagney and her husband Harvey that they're not being fair in prejudging Vicki as a "bimbo" and refutes Harvey's assertion that this is all a publicity stunt by informing him "She said that she has come to New York City to learn how to make her show better."  Lacey spends the week trying to be peacemaker between her partner Cagney and Vicki, as she likes both women and doesn't think that there should be any tension between them.  When Cagney intentionally takes Vicki to the morgue to examine a corpse, she takes delight in witnessing Vicki's discomfort at seeing a dead body.  Cagney gloats over Vicki's squeamishness and cruelly jokes how "I don't think Detective Dee Dee can take it" only to have Lacey defend Vicki by admitting that "I couldn't either my first time, could you?"  Tyne Daly is extremely funny and endearing in this episode, bringing interesting and inspired qualities to this segment, including moments of comedic awkwardness and an atypical timidity as she tries to blunt the sharpness of Cagney's barbs at Vicki.  When Vicki diplomatically brings Cagney's favorite breakfast of bagel and cream cheese, and Cagney becomes silently resentful of Vicki's kindness, Lacey reminds Cagney to "Say thank you, Christine" in a quick, humorously maternal manner that is very funny. 

Tyne Daly and Shannon Tweed have a great, effortless chemistry in this episode as they demonstrate how these two, completely different individuals find a common ground with one another while discussing their children and their love of classic movies.  The scene where they share photos of their kids is rather touching, particularly when Lacey comments how Vicki's daughter looks like "Peaches and cream" and Vicki returns the compliment by commenting on Lacey's dress by noting "Speaking of peaches, you look really great in that color.  It really compliments your skin tone."  I like how Lacey is impressed by Vicki's warmth and sincerity and lack of entitlement that she goes out of her way to try and make her week as a civilian observer a worthwhile experience.  Lacey shows how she is secure enough in herself that she doesn't feel the least bit threatened by Vicki, even after she has dinner with her family and witnesses how her husband Harvey and her sons are impressed by this glamorous TV star.  After meeting Vicki, Harvey suddenly becomes amorous that night in bed with Lacey and she comments to Cagney the next day, with a sense of wonder, "There's a chemical thing, Christine, that does something to men.  18 years of marriage, I never saw Harvey so...well, I don't even know what it was but they all had it.  Even the boys.  Even Michael.  Kind of reminded me of when they first met you."

In so doing, Lacey is able to get to the root of why Cagney resents Vicki.  The more worldly and sophisticated Cagney ultimately has a lot in common with Vicki and feels very competitive with her.  Cagney is threatened by Vicki's presence because she doesn't want to think that her looks and charm had anything to do with her success as a police detective.  She wants to believe that she got where she is solely through skill, accomplishment, and initiative, which is why I think she continually puts Vicki down throughout the episode as someone superficial, unintelligent, and a nuisance.  At one point Lacey's boyfriend David observes that the only reason Lacey dislikes Vicki is because "You're a lot alike...When you're beautiful and smart and ambitious and hard-working, people could find that intimidating."  When Lacey objects to David's observation by defensively stating "I am not intimidated by Vicki Barrington," David calmly responds "That was supposed to be a compliment.  Do you realize that she's the only thing we've talked about since she showed up at the 14th?...Chris, I don't care what the competition is, on any level, man or woman, you can handle it."

Lacey further underscores the similarities between Cagney and Vicki when she challenges Cagney's statement, "I tell you, Mary Beth, you can't trust a woman like her."  Lacey asks, "What kind of a woman is that, Christine?"  Cagney responds, "The kind of a woman who would use whatever it takes to get whatever she wants."  A bemused Lacey smiles and says nothing regarding her partner's hypocrisy which causes Cagney to declare defensively and self-servingly, "Mary Beth, when I use a little charm, I do it for a good cause...I protect people from crime."  Lacey wisely responds, "Uh huh.  So it's OK to use a little charm in your job, but it's not OK in hers...Well, it can't be easy, Christine.  She's trying to raise a child by herself, working hard at that job where people are fussing all over you every minute of the day."  When Cagney defiantly states, "I'm telling you she's as phony as the airhead she plays"  Lacey becomes indignant and defends Vicki by challenging Cagney "Now how do you know?  Did you ever bother to get to know her?"

Later on in the episode, Lacey continues to defend Vicki to Cagney by pointing out, "You know, she can't help being who she is, Christine.  I know exactly how you feel.  Same way I feel everytime we go check evidence with Cervantes...We go in together and it's 'Hello Sergeant Cagney!  How you doin' Sergeant Cagney!'  I may as well stay in the car....When we go to the lab, Solomon offers you sushi.  Me, I get fiber samples.  Don't tell me you never notice."  Cagney feels awkward and apologetic at realizing how she has inadvertently caused Lacey to feel dissed and ignored at times and says "Look, if it bothers you so much why didn't you say something?"  Lacey wisely responds, "Well, what are you supposed to do?  Stop wearing smart clothes and start retaining water?  That's the way it is, that's all.  Same thing with Vicki Barrington.  Doesn't mean she's not a nice person."

In so doing, Lacey sets the stage for the final confrontation between Vicki and Cagney when the former has asked if both detectives would take a publicity photo with her.  Vicki confronts Cagney, after she refuses to take the photo, by asking "Is it just me, or do you have a problem with all women?"  Cagney responds resentfully, "Look, it was your idea to come here.  Now nobody sent you an engraved invitation!  If you can't take the heat, get the hell out of the kitchen!"  Vicki defiantly responds "I can take anything you can dish out.  But I resent it lady.  You think all I am is a tight dress and a push-up bra...Well, you're wrong.  I answered phones, waited tables, and parked cars for my acting lessons.  And then I had to get past agents, producers and directors who still thought I should sleep my way to the top" to which Cagney derisively cracks "Look, I read 'Hollywood Wives.'  In case you hadn't noticed, I had to deal with men too."  Vicki responds, "Then you ought to know what I'm talking about.  Nobody taking me seriously, not one of them giving me credit for having a brain in my head.  And now you.  I thought you'd give me a chance to prove myself...We've both paid our dues.  But I guess you don't give a damn about any woman's career except your own."  As Vicki storms out, a humbled Cagney sarcastically jokes "Helluva performance" to try and save face, knowing full well that Vicki has called her out on her hypocrisy.  Sharon Gless does a great job in this episode at skillfully underscoring Cagney's impatience and intolerance for Vicki, and for her willingness to demonstrate unsympathetic qualities in Cagney's personality.

As for playing the catalyst of this episode, Shannon Tweed gives a very good performance playing the sympathetic and intelligent Vicki Barrington.  The script by Sandy Sprung and Marcy Vosburgh plays fair with the Vicki character by ensuring that she doesn't come across as superficial or self-indulgent.  Despite Vicki's initial naivete in understanding the realities of police work, as well as her presumptuousness in interrogating witnesses and suspects, both Tweed and the script work hard to demonstrate Vicki's sincerity in making her character Sergeant Dee Dee St. James, and her fictional TV series, "NYPD" more realistic and believable so that both can honor the sort of work that Cagney and Lacey do everyday.  As she tells Cagney earlier in the episode, "I didn't leave my kid (in LA) for a publicity stunt.  I came here to make Dee Dee a better cop...so I can feel good about what I do for a living....Look, if you don't want Dee Dee to be a bimbo, why don't you help me change her?"  Tweed demonstrates assertiveness and strength of character by demonstrating how Vicki can give as good as she can take in trading barbs with Cagney so that the character never degenerates into shallow Hollywood actress stereotypes.

The sincere warmth that Tweed demonstrates in her scenes with Tyne Daly also goes a long way towards underscoring Vicki's humane qualities as an individual.  The scene after Vicki argues with Cagney, and Vicki asks Lacey if she was sincere about her earlier statement of inviting Vicki home for dinner with Lacey's family ("I was gonna go back to my hotel, eat dinner, read some stupid scripts, try to fall asleep...unless you meant what you said about my having dinner at your place...Mary Beth, I'd love to.  I'd even bring the wine"), is touching because you see how much it means for this glamorous, beautiful TV star to feel accepted by at least one of the two detectives she is observing for the week.  You sense that Vicki wants to make friends with both Cagney and Lacey and to do right by them by making her TV show more substantial.  Tweed is particularly good in scenes where Vicki's feelings are genuinely hurt by Cagney's antagonism.  It's clear that Tweed understands and sympathizes with the presumptions and expectations that Vicki has to deal with in her life and acting career, which is why her performance has such authenticity.  Even though it is only in a single guest appearance on "Cagney & Lacey," Shannon Tweed demonstrates qualities of intelligence, warmth and integrity that she should have been allowed to represent more often in her career. 

Lynda Day George Made it Easy to Watch "Mission: Impossible"

I've never enjoyed the Tom Cruise "Mission: Impossible" movie series because I don't think they ever truly understood what made original television series (which ran on CBS from 1966 to 1973) so special.  Rather than lending itself to big blockbuster action, the TV series was actually a cerebral, intricately plotted, origami-like brain teaser involving a team of spies who were, in essence, government-sponsored con artists.  Their job was to mount an elaborate sting operation whose purpose is to fool either a ruthless foreign dictator, or a stateside mobster, to behave in a way that reveals a piece of information that the agents need in order to topple a foreign power or an organized crime empire, or cause those villains to inadvertently demonstrate an aspect of themselves, that they have skillfully hidden from others, whose public revelation will cause them to lose their power or influence.  Most episodes involved the Impossible Missions Force (IMF) setting up the sting, successfully executing it, dealing with any complications that arise, and then slipping away unnoticed.  We took delight in watching the skill and precision of the IMF agents as they made the villains look like fools.  It wasn't a show that warranted having big action set pieces, which is why the movie series has never really captured what made the TV show so special.

What's interesting about the TV series was how the regular characters were written as mere ciphers without any real backstory or recognizable character traits.  They were intentionally presented as stoic figures in order to allow them to easily slip into the identities they would have to impersonate for each episode.  It wasn't about following the trials and tribulations of the personal lives of the regular characters.  However, because of mostly effective casting, we still liked and cared about the IMF agents due to the innate skill and charm of the actors who played them.  They were incredibly cool individuals who you admired due to their calm and internal strength to remain assured even in the most challenging situation.  I think the show was successful in the turbulent and uncertain 1960s and 1970s because there was no sense of doubt with the members of the IMF.  I think people back then responded to watching individuals who were completely certain that what they were doing was right because they tired of watching the sort of characters filled with self-indulgent self-doubt they were already surrounded by every day.  There were many regular actors across the course of "Mission: Impossible's" long run, but I have to admit my favorite had to be beautiful blonde Lynda Day George as IMF disguise expert Casey.

George joined the show in the 6th season when Lesley Ann Warren departed from the show after only appearing on it for just one season.  (Warren, in-turn, had replaced the show's original leading lady, Barbara Bain as Cinnamon Carter, who had left the show in 1969 along with her husband Martin Landau due to a contractual dispute.)  Warren never really felt at-ease with the fact that her character, IMF Agent Dana Lambert, was meant to be archetypal and not someone who would continue to develop over time.  She would have preferred playing a constantly evolving personality.  Her replacement Lynda Day George appeared to have no such issues with the series and seemed to thrive at playing the different personalities and aliases that Casey would assume while working with the IMF.

Casey's role in the series was unique in that she was both the leading lady and the disguise expert on the show.  Prior to that, Martin Landau as Rollin Hand, and later Leonard Nimoy as his replacement Paris, were the disguise experts, with Bain's Cinnamon and Warren's Dana providing separate distaff interest on the show.  Combining both elements of disguise expert and leading lady into the character of Casey allowed Lynda Day George to take on a more proactive role than some of the previous women in the series, who had good parts to play but sometimes were relegated into serving as eye-candy in the IMF's missions.  In instances where Casey had to don a latex face mask and impersonate another individual, she had to study that person's history, personality and mannerisms in order to effectively portray them.  Or, if she was helping another IMF agent prepare to impersonate someone else, she had to help develop their disguise and coach their performance.  That meant that Casey was taking an active role in planning the sting operations and was not just an agent who merely showed up and took orders from leader Jim Phelps (Peter Graves).

We never really learn much about Casey during her tenure on the original series, much less whether "Casey" was her first or last name.  In the later "Mission: Impossible" revival series in 1989, George reappeared in the role.  We learn that her full name is supposed to be Lisa Casey (this bit of retcon was done to avoid confusion with another female regular character on the new show already named Casey), that she had retired from the IMF and had become a stage director, and that the last time she worked with the IMF was 9 years earlier in 1980 when she and Jim Phelps worked in Hong Kong to put away a dangerous international drug dealer.  This suggests that Casey worked for the IMF for 9 years, from 1971 to 1980, longer than any of the other leading ladies on the show.  It was clear while watching the original series that Casey was someone with a theater arts and performing background because she occasionally described how she would study the regional dialects and accents of someone she was preparing to impersonate, and was skillful at makeup and disguise artistry.

We sensed Casey was a decent individual in the 1971 episode "Encounter" where Casey is preparing to impersonate Lois Stoner (Elizabeth Ashley) the alcoholic wife of a corrupt lawyer working for the mob.  As Casey describes Lois Stoner's sad life and marriage, she expresses a level of compassion for Lois' plight that you normally wouldn't have expected from someone who must remain an objective, dispassionate individual in order to successfully accomplish her missions.  When Casey has successfully assumed Lois' identity, and the IMF agents are preparing to transport the real, unconscious Lois to a medical facility where she can dry out, Casey reminds them to "take good care of her" which demonstrates Casey's concern over how the IMF's sting may end up affecting Lois' life.

I think the reason I always liked Lynda Day George as Casey was the quality of assuredness and internal stillness that George brought to the role which made Casey an intelligent, courageous, clever and skillful individual.  She was a genuine heroine because of her quick witted thinking and initiative, and not necessarily because she was engaging in acts of violence by fighting with the enemy with her fists or with firearms.  The episode that I think best demonstrated the qualities that Lynda Day George's Casey brought to "Mission: Impossible" was in the 7th and last season's episode "Kidnap," directed by series star Peter Graves.  In the episode, Graves' Jim Phelps and Barney Collier (Greg Morris) are on vacation together when Jim is kidnapped by mobsters who the IMF had fleeced the previous season by cleaning out their underworld casino.  The lead mobster Andrew Metzger (John Ireland) wants the IMF to use their talents to help him retrieve a letter locked in a bank safe deposit box owned by a former associate Mitchell Connally (Charles Drake) who is threatening to turn the letter, which could incriminate Metzger in a murder, over to authorities in exchange for an immunity deal.  For Jim's safe return, the IMF must bring the letter to Metzger before Connally presents it to prosecutors.

On short notice, Barney rounds up Casey and Willy (Peter Lupus) in order to lay the groundwork to retrieve the letter, save Jim, and still bring Metzger to justice.  Casey arrives at the bank, pretending to be a socialite who just moved to Los Angeles from Fort Worth, and rents a safety deposit box ostensibly to store her jewelry.  While in the bank vault housing the safety deposit boxes, Casey pretends to go into an asthma attack and scatters her jewelry across the floor.  While the bank clerk is distracted helping to gather up the jewelry, Casey uses a syringe filled with quick-set plastic to take a mold of one of the two separate locks on Connally's safe deposit box that is opened using the bank's master key.  Once she has secured a good mold of the lock, which they can use to make a copy of the key, she hides it in the pocket of her fur coat.  Casey drives to Connally's apartment, with Willy in the back of the van making a copy of the bank's master key from the plastic mold Casey made from the lock.  Casey and Willy board the descending elevator in Mitchell Connally's building at the precise time they know that Connally will have received confirmation of his immunity deal with the Government and will be leaving with agents accompanying him to retrieve the letter from the bank.

Meanwhile, Barney arrives at Connally's security apartment building pretending to inspect the elevators for safety issues.  As the elevator descends, Barney rigs the controls to cause the elevator to be stuck in between floors.  Casey pretends to be a claustrophobic who becomes hysterical at being trapped in the elevator.  She uses her feigned hysteria to feel up against Connally and finds his complementary key to open his safety deposit box in the breast pocket of his suit.  Casey finds the key, pretends to lose consciousness, while Willy (pretending to be a doctor) tends to Casey in front of Connally and the government agents.  Out of their view, Willy makes a mold impression of Connally's key and slips it back into Casey's hand.  Casey pretends to regain consciousness, goes into hysteria again and uses the opportunity to slip the key back into Connally's pocket without his ever noticing it.  Once Barney receives the signal that Casey has completed her job, Barney has the elevator resume its descent to the lobby and Casey and Willy hightail it to the bank ahead of Connally and the agents.  During their drive over, Willy creates a key from the mold impression he has made of Connally's complementary key.  Barney sabotages the car that Connally is riding in so that it's tires blow out.  He promptly picks them up in a taxi, all to give Casey enough time to return to the bank and get the letter first.

 
Casey returns to the bank under the guise of placing important documents into the safety deposit box she rented earlier.  She pretends to go into another asthma attack in the bank vault, causing the bank clerk to go and get water for her.  Casey uses the opportunity to find Connally's box and open it with both sets of keys that she has made.  She opens the box, briefly examines the letter, slips it into her purse, and closes the box before the clerk returns.  With the letter in her possession, she tells the clerk that she'll return tomorrow to place her documents in her box and leaves the bank.  As Casey leaves the bank, Metzger's associate Hawks (Jack Ging) who wants the letter in order to blackmail his boss, mugs Casey on the sidewalk and flees in a getaway car.  Willy and Casey attempt to give chase, to no avail.  Connally arrives later at the bank, opens his box, and finds his letter missing.  With no collateral for his immunity deal, he is arrested by the Government agents for suspicion of extortion and narcotics dealing.  Meanwhile, Barney contacts Metzger and lies that he has the letter and will arrive soon to deliver it.  Metzger gives Barney the address where he lives.  When it becomes apparent that someone other than Metzger stole the letter, Barney decides that they will still try to bargain with Metzger by forging the envelope that the letter was sealed in.

Through careful questioning and encouragement from Barney and Willy, Casey is eventually able to describe the color and size of the envelope, the name and address on it, the font used to type the address, the type of stamp used for postage, the type and color of the wax seal, and (after careful deliberation) the city and date of the postmark.  With the envelope carefully reproduced, Barney, Casey and Willy head over to Metzger's house.  They present the empty envelope to Metzger and announce that the contents of the envelope is in a safe place and will eventually be turned over to Metzger once Jim has been safely released.  Metzger takes the trio over to where Jim is being held captive.  Meanwhile, Hawks shows up with the real letter and announces his plan to blackmail Metzger.  Casey pretends to go into hysterics again and Jim uses the diversion to start a fight where he, Barney and Willy battle Metzger and Hawks and their associates and are eventually able to overpower them.  With the crisis resolved, the IMF lock Metzger and his associates into the air raid shelter that he was held in captivity as they triumphantly depart together.

The last truly great episode of "Mission: Impossible," Lynda Day George gives a fine performance and demonstrates all of the qualities that made her work as Casey so special.  In her introductory scene in this segment, where she, Barney and Willy plan how to steal Connally's letter in order to save Jim, she has a very calm, controlled, deep, and assured tone to her voice that demonstrates Casey's decisiveness and maturity.  There's no hand-wringing insecurity or nervousness to Casey at this moment because she knows Jim's life is at stake and that everyone will have to rise to the occasion in order to save him.  As Casey demonstrates how she has already been practicing how to be a pick-pocket, by stealing a photograph of Connally from Willy's suit pocket, there's no self-satisfied "cuteness" from Casey that other actresses, who would have used the moment to show-off, might have played the scene.  Casey already knows she's good at her work and doesn't have to gloat over it.

When Casey arrives at the bank, pretending to be a light-hearted Texas socialite suffering from asthma, she parodies an outdated stereotype of women who are frivolous that is sometimes portrayed in movies and television.  This is further exemplified when Casey pretends to become hysterical in the elevator at Connally's apartment in order to steal his key and make a copy of it, which is in itself a parody of the dated stereotype that assumes women are weak and vulnerable.  Because we know that Casey herself is not a frivolous individual, and isn't prone to fits of weakness or hysteria, these scenes are amusing and entertaining because we, the audience, are in on the joke with Casey of having her pretend to be somebody that she's not.  Casey, a courageous and substantial individual, is making fun (as well as taking advantage) of the weak and frivolous stereotypes that have stigmatized images of women in the media, especially at that time.  That quality of including the audience in on the enjoyment of watching the IMF stings being successfully executed through feigned play-acting is something that the Tom Cruise "Mission: Impossible" movies have never really understood.

Later, when Casey is mugged by Hawks on the street and loses the letter, she remains calm, but frustrated.  She never loses her cool even when an unexpected wrench has been thrown into the scenario.  Later, when she helps Barney and Willy forge the envelope, Casey expresses frustration at not being able to immediately recall all the details she briefly noticed on the genuine article.  But she remains calm and focused as she eventually is able to remember enough about the letter to allow Barney and Willy to forge it.  Casey's attention to detail in both her performance, and her observation of what is presented and going on around her, are what ultimately help to save Jim's life in this episode.  At the end, when Metzger and the IMF are confronted by the duplicitous Hawks, Casey has made herself so ubiquitous that, when she pretends to go into hysterics, Hawks tells her, "Hold it Blondie.  I've seen you operate.  No more chances."  Clearly, Hawks considers Casey a more formidable adversary in this episode than he does Jim, Barney and Willy.  Even though the dictates of the early 1970s prevent Casey from taking a more prominent role in the fisticuffs of the violent finale in Metzger's air raid shelter, I never felt that it short-changed Casey because she was left out of the fighting at the end.  I have never believed that, just because a heroine is involved with participating in the action set-pieces of a movie or TV show that that demonstrates she's playing a substantive role in the proceedings.  (The thankless part that Naomie Harris' Eve Moneypenny played in 2012's "Skyfall" is a good example of this.)  In this "Mission: Impossible" episode, Jim, Barney and Willy essentially played support to Casey, who did most of the legwork on this mission and carried the bulk of the action and acting on this episode.  Jim should be commended for having selected and trained a team who were so good at what they did that they were able to operate efficiently without him. 

Lynda Day George was a likeable actress in television and movies in the 1960s and 1970s.  Both before and after "Mission: Impossible," she built a long and impressive list of episodic television credits on most of the top hour-long dramatic shows.  She had key supporting roles on three of the major television miniseries of the 1970s including "Rich Man, Poor Man" (1976), "Once An Eagle" (1976), and "Roots" (1977).  She later made frequent appearances in horror and suspense thrillers, some with her husband Christopher George, including "The Day of the Animals" (1977), "Beyond Evil" (1980), "Mortuary" (1984), and the notorious slasher flick "Pieces" (1982).  In the horror films or guest starring on "Love Boat" or "Fantasy Island," George wasn't given an opportunity to truly shine due to the uninspired material.  But at her best, such as in "Mission: Impossible," Lynda Day George demonstrated impressive qualities of determination and leadership that showed what a fine actress she could be when given appropriate material and the proper level of attention.  George was always particularly good in scenes without dialogue that allowed one to pay attention to her expressive eyes, which reflected how focused and alert she was at all times.  She was nominated for both a Golden Globe and an Emmy for her work as Casey on "Mission: Impossible," the latter for the final season that featured the "Kidnap" episode that she carried so beautifully.  What was truly impressive about Lynda Day George on "Mission: Impossible" wasn't so much Casey's ability to impersonate individuals from varying different backgrounds, but how she made Casey an interesting and engaging person, despite her intentional lack of character development, that made you interested in Casey and curious about who this mysterious and exciting woman was.