

The sorta/kinda Edgar Wallace hijinx continue as we look at the second chapter of the 19940 Columbia serial The Green Archer. I think you will honestly be amazed when you learn the real secret behind The Fact at the Window.


The sorta/kinda Edgar Wallace hijinx continue as we look at the second chapter of the 19940 Columbia serial The Green Archer. I think you will honestly be amazed when you learn the real secret behind The Fact at the Window.
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#1 by Jen S on November 4, 2011 - 12:59 pm
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Honestly, the gun must have been the most frustrating technological advance for screenwriters ever, because it ruins all their carfully planned out preposterisity. (Is that a word? Oh well, it is now!) They get their trains ready for derailing, their secret tunnels all rigged up with bloodthirsty hounds, and their cars carefully set up to run the hero’s car over the convenient cliff, only to have some killjoy or other pipe up “Well, why don’t they just SHOOT the guy?”
No fun at all, guns. Convinent, efficient, but just no fun at all.
#2 by kbegg on November 4, 2011 - 1:33 pm
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Imagine being a modern screenwriter and having to deal with cell phones. A thousand times worse, I guess. How many times can you just have ten different people checking their phones and saying, “I’m not getting reception either!”?
#3 by RogerBW on November 4, 2011 - 2:49 pm
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Fortunately, the usual American system (while well-suited to covering huge areas of ground at relatively low cost cost, great for those sprawling towns) is extremely prone to dropouts compared with the systems used elsewhere.
#4 by El Santo on November 6, 2011 - 5:09 pm
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My favorite cell phone reception story: The first person I knew to forego having a land line altogether was the old bass-player in my band. Not that he wouldn’t necessarily have wanted one, but all three of his roommates sold cell phones for a living, and their employee perks made all of them unwilling to shell out for old-fashioned telephone service of the sort that actually works. Now as we have all come to recognize, even in areas that have good overall coverage, there are certain small pockets of territory where no cell phone can be made to function, for no outwardly apparent reason. It just so happened that one of those pockets was enclosed by the walls of my ex-bassist’s house. Some nights, you’d drive by the place, and all four of the inhabitants would be standing out in the driveway at the same time, yacknig away on their cell phones like the complete fools they were.