My advice to you is NOT to watch the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) and its 1978 sequel back-to-back. For one thing, the fictional black-and-white town, "Santa Mira" (Holy Lookit?) comes across as an infinitely more appealing place to live than the muted, drab, realistic hellscape that was actual San Francisco in the late 1970s, which is wrong, just WRONG. For another, the Cold War really had teeth in the mid-50s and, although technically the "war" was still on in the late 70s, the concomitant hysteria had significantly ebbed by then, and the later film was forced to inject more exposition than the purer, earlier version required.

Every audience member knew when Kevin McCarthy ran blindly, hysterically through the streets in the first film, shrieking that an alien invasion was threatening humanity, he was talking about the creeping communist menace. And when he was finally believed, the implication was that the threat would be addressed and overcome. When the same, older, slightly puffier, 1970s Kevin McCarthy shrieked the same thing in a cameo in the sequel, the poor bastard is promptly and unceremoniously killed off.

Which is another problem with seeing the two pictures back-to-back. It's better to have the benefit of two decades and no Internet between you and the tidy, black-and-white hero of the first movie and the raving lunatic older actor who hurls at you out of nowhere in gritty 1970s muted color realism not one hour later. I mean, good for Kevin McCarthy and everything, but for Pete's sake. 

It's unnerving.

So does anyone, at this point, not know what Invasion of the Body Snatchers is about? OK, on the off chance, here's the deal: Members of a close-knit community wake up one day and realize that some of their closest friends and loved ones are Not Themselves. After initial skepticism and unaffected friends making the whirly-index-finger-by-the-forehead sign, it becomes clear that the entire town is being taken over by emotionless, robotic lookalikes. This is achieved by a human falling asleep next to an alien "pod" (cell?) that takes over the human's body and memories, but not his or her feelings, killing the original human and the resulting duplicate going about the former human's business, but without the messiness of sex or love or jealously, but also no independence or liberty or anything.

In the (superior) 1956 telling, these changes occur under the nose of the town doctor, Miles Bennell (Kevin McCarthy), who, as a 1950s doctor is dismissive of what he thinks are the hysterical imaginings of those of his patients who are women and children. His love interest, Dana Wynter, is way ahead of him on this issue and is by the doctor's side when he finally comes around. Eventually, the entire town is taken over and these remaining two are driven to their existential limits. The terror in this film is in the uncertainty -- the quiet normalcy turned sinister and unfamiliar. Plus some very well-executed, menacing crowd choreography.

The second version of this story is told in San Francisco in the late 1970s from the point of view of a city health inspector, another doctor Bennell (this time "Matthew" and this time Donald Sutherland). His friend (and crush) Elizabeth Driscoll (Brooke Adams) has discovered a new plant in her backyard one day and a strange "distance" in her boyfriend the next morning. Matthew takes her to see his psychiatrist friend, Leonard Nimoy (does it matter who his character is?) who is (SPOILER) already a pod guy and ultimately (obviously) unhelpful.

The remake spends some quality title time telling us that the pod plants come from an unspecified place in space and that they adapt and replicate the crap they land on. Later on, we observe a few of the pitfalls of organism duplication when two higher beings sleep in close proximity (see man-faced dog). My favorite characters in this version are Matthew's friends, the impossibly beautiful and young Jeff Goldblum and his character's wife, my favorite science fiction actress of the era, Veronica Cartwright, who help him navigate the threat with varying degrees of success.

I dunno. It seemed to me that the later version spilled too many origin beans for it to be as scary as the first film. I saw the remake in the theater when it came out (having already seen the original), and my 14-year-old self had deemed it the better movie. But something about the second made me wonder about a city that had houses like the protagonists had  -- one in an Alamo Square-ish zone and another in the Filbert Steps -- AND restaurants where rat turds could be mistaken for capers or crazy fuckers were *everywhere.*

What's not to love?

Just between us, 1978 was a terrible, terrible year for the Bay Area, particularly the month of November. Of course, it was just a coincidence that Body Snatchers (two) was released then, but I can't help wonder whether reality proved to be more disturbing than a remade threat of widespread doppleangerism. 
 
Bottom line? See the first film for the story; see the second for perspective..

One of the many great things about Columbo is that there is no such thing as a Big Spoiler: the guest star is the who what done it. In "Requiem for a Fallen Star" (January 21, 1973), Anne Baxter plays the episode's murderess, the charming, aging film star, Nora Chandler. 

Nora is being blackmailed by smoothie gossip columnist, Jerry Parks (Mel Ferrer), who has dug up some incriminating evidence about Nora's shady financial dealing that he may -- or may not, depending, if you know what I mean -- put in his upcoming tell-all book about Nora. Parks is also secretly romancing Nora's secretary Jean Davis (Pippa Scott) to get further dirt (so thinks Nora) and when Nora learns of this, well, it's just too much to bear. 

On account of there's a lot of dirt.

So Nora contrives to send Jean on a bunch of time-consuming errands, knowing she has a secret rendezvous with slimy Jerry. She follows her, then, assured they are both together at this cool-looking bookstore, drives up to Jerry's place and pours a whole can of gasoline on the carport floor, using another to make a trail to a safe spot out of sight. When Jerry's gorgeous Jaguar sports car pulls up, she strikes a match and ka-boom! That takes care of, Jerry.

Or does it? Turns out it was Jean in the car, because someone had let all the air out of one of her cute little sports car's tire and the two had switched vehicles. Enter Lieutenant Columbo, because whose car blows up on a car pad all on its own, especially with two empty cans of gasoline laying about and what, they don't have AAA?

Meanwhile, Nora has been living in a palatial bungalow on the studio lot since the happy days when her late husband, the head of the studio, built it for her. It is enormous and very well-appointed, including a little garden with a fountain and everything. But there are rumblings that new studio management want to take that all away. No fear, for Nora has managed to "meet" and romance the new owner of the studio, Frank Simmons (good old Kevin McCarthy), because she really likes her house and doesn't want to get thrown off the lot. Jerry is also beginning to suspect that Jean's death was not an accident. Nor perhaps was the death of Nora's studio-head husband.

Lt. Columbo is especially "just one more thing"-y in this installment, because he and Mrs. Columbo are set up as huge fans of Nora Chandler, so his being (supposedly) star-struck masks his keen observations, thereby keeping his prime suspect off guard. Anne Baxter is extra Anne-Baxter-y as well, chewing up the scenery, telegraphing her punches, tossing her head back when she laughs -- more on the Nefretiri side (Moses, MOSES!) than the Sophie MacDonald side (her Oscar-winning performance in The Razor's Edge). But why not? 

What's fun about this episode are the little Hollywood jokes: Columbo's car being mistaken for a clunker needed in a demolition derby scene; an Indian Chief in full regalia riding a bicycle; a cameo by Edith Head (with all her Oscars lined up on the table) who brings Columbo a clean tie. Best of all are the little references to Baxter's most famous film, All About Eve. Her character's name, Nora Chandler, may as well be Margo Channing, and her nemesis is a powerful columnist, a very, very pale comparison to Addison DeWitt, but you know what I mean.

But this is my favorite homage:

We get to watch part of an old Nora Chandler picture with Columbo on TV while he waits for Nora to finish dressing. It's a major clue. 

All is, of course, revealed craftily by the the little man in the trench coat. I will not spoil it all, because the entire first seven seasons of this fantastic show are available streaming online. "Requiem for a Fallen Star" is Season Two, Episode 5.

I defy you not to watch three more episodes right away.

This post is part of the Big Stars on the Small Screen Blogathon, hosted by How Sweet It Was. Please check out the fabulous bloggers and the amazing cavalcade of stars about whom they whom, therein.