Monday, 16 September 2013

Whiplash E13 The Solid Gold Brigade

I decided to screencap some Whiplash, a tricky business since the dvds won't run in my laptop computer, which means being uncomfortable at the desktop. But it's worth it for Whiplash, which is an excellent little series. Full of humour and drama, full of Peter Graves riding horses and getting wet and doing manly things.

Today's episode is The Solid Gold Brigade. It doesn't have Anthony Wickert in it, Graves' character Chris Cobb's sidekick, which is a shame, and I don't know if it's the best episode, but it certainly has the most nearly-naked-and-wet Peter Graves in it, which is a hell of a bonus. If only it were in colour. For a 25 minute long episode I managed to take 98 screencaps, and nearly all of that was due to Peter Graves being half-naked and wet with sea water. So, without further ado, let's forge ahead into the episode.

Here we are, watching Whiplash. I don’t know why I have the urge to say that in a David-Attenborough-esque undertone, but I do. Maybe it's because of all the natural beauty we're about to be exposed to. To set the scene, Whiplash is filmed in Australia, and is about a guy who owns a stage line. These two things are neatly brought together in the opening titles. Look, a kangaroo and a stage coach!

It also has (contain yourself) Peter Graves with a whip and an Anzac hat and a lot of horse-play. Oh my god.

See? I cannot quite put into words how wonderful these things are.

We also get a little bit of historical insight at the start, although I believe Peter Graves was frustrated by the fact that they essentially transposed the Wild West onto Australia, rather than committing to real accuracy. He would be frustrated by this, because he’s an all round top bloke.

Here he is. Chris Cobb, an American who came over to Australia to run a stage line, and based on a historical figure, Freeman Cobb. And oh my, he gets to wear hot Victorian clothes and use a quill. Hoo ya!

Look at those clothes. I wonder if they had to keep women off the set to stop them rushing him? (Incidentally, he’s having a discussion about running his stage up the coast to get gold from gold miners and bring it to the bank.)

Look, look! Hand in the pocket, quill in the other hand, leaning casually on the table. He stands to make 5% of the cost of whatever gold is deposited in the bank. A good deal.

Meanwhile the assayer, Mr Dodgeworth Fenton (wow!), has been sent on ahead to assay the gold and do all those things that an assayer does. He’s having himself a cup of tea from his billycan in the bush on the way.

Mr Dodgeworth Fenton was not long for this world. There are dirty deeds afoot from an assailant who knows every detail of where Mr Fenton was going, and why. The killer and his friend are so coldhearted that they drink Fenton’s tea next to his dead body.

Meanwhile, Chris Cobb is on his way up the coast.

‘Some sea,’ he thinks. ‘How refreshing!’ (Warning – there may be an increase in screencaps-per-second from now on .)

‘Is there anyone around?’ he wonders. ‘Oh no, no one but that camera crew… And that sea looks so very refreshing…’

But while Chris is bathing (woo!) the face of evil is waiting on the beach…

Look, he’s cavorting in the sea!

Trying to do a little body surfing. Possibly wondering if he should have invited brother Jim over to teach him how to surf.

All wet and running out of the waves…

Oh hell, he’s in wet, clinging longjohns. Where do I look?

I mean, look at that thigh muscle through the wet fabric.

Oh good lord, these things are form-fitting.

He’s not awfully happy about the visitor on the beach. (And, look! Nipples!)

Even the waves are doing some kind of orgasmic celebration behind him.

He’s suspicious about the visitor, especially since the man knows his name. He looks towards his rifle, which I could cap, but I’d rather cap Chris looking at it. (There’s a bit of a myth that Chris Cobb never carries a gun. He does. He has a rifle. But he tries not to use it.)

In case you didn’t believe me, there’s his rifle.

And here’s Chris moving towards his rifle. He has chest and nipples and things.

Here is a side view of Chris Cobb moving towards his rifle. Hair. Arms. Flanks.

And here is rather more of a back view. Um. Yes.

Watch out, Chris! He’s got a gun! A gun on a chain that he pretends is a watch!

Chris is shot! (Oh, ankles, buttocks, back.)

Still being shot… (More buttocks, arm muscles, back muscles.)

And falling… (Thighs!)

And falling still. Oh, those longjohns are tight and wet…

Still falling. Oh lord.

Falling in earnest now.

Continuing to fall.

Plop. (And may I mention, feet! Oh, and that juncture between thigh and pelvis)

There he is on the sand, showing a pleasing looseness at the waistband.

Aaand, he’s down. (Feet!)

You bastard, you unknown assailant! But thank you for all the wet buttock time. (Somehow this shortish, portly guy thinks he will fit in the muscular, slim, 6’3” Chris Cobb’s clothes. Somehow, he is right.)

Ouch. Film blood is a lot more convincing in black and white.

So our portly friend rolls into camp in the guise of Chris Cobb. How the hell did he fit in those clothes? He meets up with the guy who took on the role of the assayer, and has a letter of introduction he stole from Cobb, so who’s going to believe it’s not him?

‘Well, if you ain’t Mr Cobb I reckon you’ll have to do until something better comes along,’ one of the miners says on reading the letter, not realising the irony of his words. There’s good writing in this series.

The bad guy (I'm sorry, I never catch his name) has set Chris up for trouble by saying he ran into a bush ranger.

Luckily for Chris, he wasn’t left to be drowned by the tide. He was rescued due to the kindness of a lovely Scottish fisherman.

Chris looks somewhat puzzled and as if he’s recovering from being unconscious – which he is.

He’s quite pretty in his blanket.

His longjohns have dried, more’s the pity.

Chris continues to be confused when the man tells him he’s ‘Adam Douglas from the border.’ When he asks what border he tells him there is only one border – between England and Scotland. He must be wondering for a moment how long he was unconscious and just where the sea took him.

Poor Chris.

Chris runs off to see if he can see the stagecoach. I gaze at bare ankles and feet in the washing tide. Adam quietly thinks he’s delusional.

Delusional or not, there’s some lovely light-play on his longjohns there.

Dear god, that’s good light-play.

Adam is still dubious, but he does give Chris his whip, which would seem to prove Chris' story.

I was torn between capping the hand and what’s behind the hand as Chris gets his whip, so I did both… I mean, look at that hand!

Chris is a polite type and thanks the man for pulling him in, even if Adam does have doubts about his sanity. Adam offers him some old boots and fisherman’s clothes, again proving that due to the Australian climate clothing can stretch to fit any body type.

In he goes to get the clothes, making us wish Adam had not been generous enough to give him that blanket, or any clothes.

Chris emerges with the clothes.

And walks down from the shack. (Are these shots gratuitous?)

And continues to walk…

Sits down to put the jumper on…

Starts getting the jumper on…

Damn. It’s on. There ends the gratuitous screencapping. I’m sure plot details have been going on while I was doing this. I think it’s that Adam is agreeing to take Chris across the bay in his dinghy so he can get to Fury Creek (where the gold miners are) more quickly.

Meanwhile, the darstardly villains are doing their thing in other men’s clothing.

Chris and Adam are making their way across the bay. This is just quite a pretty scene, begging to be made into a watercolour.

Chris is pleasingly soggy again.

He's also thankful again, and just a little flirty.

Off he goes, up the dunes.

I do wish this were remastered, and in colour. How pretty he looks atop this rock. He’s spied a lone gold miner.

The gold miner was just getting some of his bags of gold out ready to take them back to Fury Creek. Understandably he’s suspicious of this man in fisherman’s clothing who's telling him he's actually Chris Cobb, the stagecoach owner.

Chris is dappled by Australian sun as the man tells him he’s lying about who he is.

So here he is sitting on the ground with his hands on his head being peeved at how thoroughly the thief has convinced everyone he’s actually Chris Cobb.

But the guy hasn’t banked on Chris’s skill with the whip. Look. Attitude of surrender…


Getting ready to strike…

Almost there…


And he has the gun!

He can even start standing up from that position without using his hands.

Mission complete.

How does he convince the man? Once he has him at his mercy, he hands his gun back. The miner lets him take the horse.

So we get to see a little riding.

Go Chris!


In Chris rides on the horse. Of course the bad guy tells everyone it’s the bush ranger approaching.


Captured! The miners insinuate things about how bad he smells.

So, off rolls the bad guy, leaving the miners to string Chris up.

Quick justice. He’s on horseback with a noose around his neck before you know it.

Luckily Chris has just spotted Baxter, the miner they think he’s killed, coming into camp on foot.

Meanwhile, the fake Chris Cobb stops, ostensibly to rest the team, and sends the miner escort off to fill their canteens. Then he and his partner shoot them in the back.

Chris sticks a borrowed pistol into the waistband of his trousers and rides out after the stage. He’s still peeved at all the miners, except for Baxter. After all, they've told him he stinks and then tried to hang him.

Off he goes!

He looks out from the cliff but can’t see the stage.

Back to the stalwart Adam. He does a bit of leaping down the dunes.

Back into the boat again. By god those trousers do something for his rear!

Running along the beach!

The bad guy betrays even his own partner, who dies with gold in his hands.

But Chris catches up with him, and he’s too quick for the bad guy. He’s not falling for the gun-on-a-watch-chain trick again.

Just desserts.

Chris is not happy to have just killed someone. But still, he looks very pretty in his ethical mire.

He takes some gold out of the other guy’s hand, pondering, and then throws it on the sand. He’s a good guy. He’s sad about killing and disdainful of the gold that provoked it. But he'll be back next week to look pretty and hopefully get wet, so all will be well with the world.