“Old Man Out” Part I originally broadcast on October 8th, 1966 and Part II followed a week later, on October 15th, 1966. Directed by Charles R. Rondeau (“Memory”) and written by Ellis Marcus, these episodes find the IMF attempting to break a political prisoner out of an Eastern European penitentiary. What makes this mission impossible is that the prison itself is impenetrable, in fact the government prides itself on its impenetrability, and their target has been scheduled for execution.
1.) A Double-Header
“Old Man Out” is the only episode of Mission: Impossible’s first season told in multiple parts. (Later seasons would do this with far more frequency.) Like most episodes, the plot is simple: the team pose as a traveling circus in order to break a political prisoner out of a penitentiary that happens to border a city park. Even how the IMF pull off the operation doesn’t feel as involved or complicated than what they did in “Operation Rogosh.” Still, Rondeau, Marcus, and the rest of the writers use that extra time to develop a deeper tension, a more taut intensity.
The first part covers a literal dress rehearsal, where they take the time to make sure all the pieces are in place and they have every imaginable timing down pat. Martin Landau’s Rollin Hand actually busts their target, a frail 80-year old man named Cardinal Vossek, out of his cell and takes him almost to the extraction point, only to go, “Tomorrow. We’re going to do this tomorrow.”
Naturally, this gives the creators plenty of time to obstruct that plan. The thrills and excitement, the adrenaline rush and heart palpitations we get from Mission, in both the TV series and the movies, comes from watching the IMF react, adjust, and adapt to situations when everything goes wrong. Improvisation, baby. “Old Man Out” makes for an experiment with longer form storytelling and while there’s rough edges and some scenes drawn out more than necessary, it shows they have the filmmakers involved have the chops to sustain the narrative, to make it work.
2.) Except for that Infernal Calliope
Charles R. Rondeau returns to direct this episode and the material feels far better suited to his style than in “Memory.” He has a stronger sense of moving the characters, of using his more stabilized camera to reveal information and generate tension. There’s a scene where Rollin Hand and the Cardinal ascend a stairwell, and its remarkably terse. Rondeau’s quicker to use snap zooms this time around. He even goes handheld for a handful of shots, though the quality of these shots drops considerably, like they blew up an 8mm print when they were using 35mm otherwise.
It was while I reviewed the narrative events that I realized how many elements Rondeau juggled for “Old Man Out.” He makes the filmmaking seem effortless while making the plot feel more intricate and complicated than it is. He and editor Paul Kresney mostly find the balance between holding a scene for tension and drawing it out for too long.
That being said, the filmmakers decided a calliope had to be integral to the operation. The dummy circus act exists to serve as a distraction to both the prison’s perimeter patrol and park public. It also provides a clock for Rollin Hand inside the prison. Clever tactic, one of the beats that makes this show so special, except that the calliope has an incredibly grating and obnoxious sound and after five minutes of that incessant melody, I was like, “OK, that’s probably enough.” After 10 minutes, I was like, “They’re really going to make sure they get the most out of that instrument.” After half an hour, I started to hope they got caught.
Another hour later, I was ready to pop my eardrums.
3.) Oh Cardinal, My Cardinal
Up until this point, Mission: Impossible has remained ambiguous with its setups. The people they pursue are broad and generic, products of Eastern European communism. “Old Man Out” is no different in that respect. Marcus does, however, take more direct inspiration for Cardinal Vossek from real world cardinal, József Mindszenty. Mindszenty was from Hungary and known from standing up to the Nazis in World War II. Then, in 1948, he was arrested, along with other Church officials, journalists, and professors, for allegedly trying to overthrow the Hungarian government, a Communist regime at the time. (Communist, of course, in the Cold War version of the system.) He admitted to frequently speaking out out against the government but denied he harbored any plans to actually overthrow it. They hauled him off to prison.
Continued belowReaction was quick, with Great Britain and America saying they were “shocked over the verdict.” Protests were held, but nothing changed until 1956, when he was released by a reformist institution. He lived in exile in America until 1975, when he died.
Cardinal Vossek offers a parallel version of this man, here, according to the debriefing Briggs receives, an “acknowledged leader of the country’s freedom movement.” Unlike Mindszenty, Cardinal Vossek actively worked to overthrow this vague government. The regime doesn’t just held him captive, but tortures him, demands he name names. They plan to execute him.
Vossek’s power comes through speech and Rondeau and Marcus give a few moments to show how his words move people, from absolving a guard to reassuring Rollin Hand that everything works for a reason. The Vossek stuff acts as a sort of alternate history, a fantasy of what intelligence could achieve. No one came out to rescue Mindszenty, but here, at least, in fiction, the Americans are able to intervene on his behalf.
4.) Another Woman
For this mission, Briggs recruits acrobat and trapeze artist, Crystal Walker, played by Mary Ann Mobley. It is heavily implied, by which I mean blatantly overt (in ’60s TV terms), that they had a relationship together. “Are any of these calls ever going to be personal?” she asks. In true Mission fashion, Briggs is more devoted to his job, so poor Crystal Walker is pining away for nothing. The filmmakers lead us to believe she will have some impactful presence on the operation, but it turns out not to be much more involved than providing a distraction.
By now, we all know the trope of the sole female character in the main cast. (Often, they’re the best characters, too.) And, like Leia or Hermione or Wonder Woman, Cinnamon Carter has to balance and hold up a lot more than her male counterparts. She represents something more than her male counterparts. She’s smart and quick-thinking and in the several episodes that already aired, we saw she how often came up with a quick solution to a sticky situation. But, she still has to be otherworldly beautiful, say something like, “I’m not smart enough for that,” or whatever, and bear elements of a bimbo.
Adding Crystal Walker to the mix causes the team dynamic to . . . shift, almost in spite of itself. First, the show isn’t quite sure how it wants to play the interaction between Crystal Walker and Cinnamon Carter. There are moments when Crystal Walker seems to want Cinnamon Carter’s approval — “I like your shoes,” she says at one point. “Thanks,” Cinnamon says back, indifferent. Crystal looks hurt — and then moments where they seem like they’ve been friends for years. There are a few times where they come close to having their own agency and interiority, which the script undercuts almost immediately by forcing them into stereotypical gender roles. For instance, their main job involves distracting a skeevy security guard at the prison by staging a catfight, nominally over him. Also, there’s a moment where they worry about their men out in the fields, even though Crystal Walker is doing acrobatic trapeze acts 30 feet in the air without a net. Near the end, there’s this odd beat where, overtaken by the exhilaration of the job, they hang off each other and crack up in the back of a truck. I’m honestly still not sure what to make of that scene.
There’s so much more we can talk about with the dynamic shift between these two, in what they bring and how the script pushes back against it. Yet, I can’t pretend to know nearly enough about women’s experiences or the historical context of these people to accurately and fairly point it out. I have no solution for this, I can only point it out.
I’m going to have to start a running tally of elements that were of the time period, elements not entirely excused in their usage but at least explained by the era. And then rank all these elements on what doesn’t detract from the enjoyment of Mission: Impossible, and the ones that make you want to find something else.
Continued below5.) Stunts!
“Old Man Out” does give us our first real display of stunt work. First, there’s Crystal Walker’s trapeze show, performed by actual circus performer Sunny Woods. Then there’s also the climactic escape from the prison, involving zip lines. It’s here that Rondeau’s methods work best, his preference for keeping the camera stationary and letting the action unfold in a wide shot.
The work here is a far cry from Tom Cruise and Wade Eastwood’s teams’ work in the films. We probably couldn’t expect crashing helicopters and high building jumps and high speed motorcycle chases from CBS. Still, it establishes the precedent and makes for a fun watch. One of the final stunts, with Greg Morris’s character playing the calliope in the back of the truck as it speeds off to safety, is also inspired. Though I really hate that song and will be perfectly happy if I never hear a calliope again.
Mission: accomplished.
