The best episode of the series, The Devil & Peter Tork delivers because it delves into unexpected territory. Though the episode features several superb bits of humor - and hits into the sly with the joke about saying Hell on TV following the brilliant video sequence to the rollicking number "Salesman" - this episode is not, strictly speaking, a comedic episode, for here The Monkees and scriptwriters Gardner/Caruso and Robert Kaufmann with director Jim Frawley delve into legitimate drama to make a point about integrity.
Integrity was always a focal point of The Monkees; it was concern for the integrity of the music that they reacted in horror when their first LPs came out without credit to other musicians for playing on the albums. The excessive (and in hindsight preposterous) critical backlash they had to endure embittered them precisely because they were thrown under the bus by the record producers who by the simple act of acknowledging how the music was created would have avoided questions about integrity.
This episode delves into that issue and delivers qualified drama that grabs the viewer and does not let go until the fadeout following Act II. Peter is tricked into purchasing a harp from S. Zero (Monte Landis), a shady pawnshop owner who is exploiting Peter's genuine love of the instrument, because the pawnshop owner is Mephistopheles himself, seeking to seize the soul of the unsuspecting Peter. Peter, however, is not skilled at playing the instrument, until Zero appears and Peter suddenly finds he has great dexterity in playing the harp. When a booking agent calls The Monkees and tells them to integrate the harp into their touring act (curiously none of the boys ponders that the agent was somehow tipped off by Zero) they take off and erupt into a nationwide hit.
But then Zero comes calling and Mike now takes him to task for his contract with Peter, leading to trial in Hades itself. After some humorous banter by the boys with Zero's witnesses (William "Billy The Kid" Bonney, Blackbeard the Pirate, and Attila the Hun), Mike dives into the heart of the matter by challenging the authenticity of Zero's claim to have given Peter the skill to play the harp. Here the trial becomes an allegory on the chicken-vs.-egg running controversy between artists and music companies over who is responsible for a group's success or lack thereof, with the theme of integrity permeating matters. Peter purchased the harp out of sincerity; Zero, however, sold it to him out of malice aforethought, and it leads to Zero's final challenge - he claims to purge the power to play the harp from Peter, and challenges him to now perform with the instrument, a challenge a rattled Peter must be coaxed by Mike into accepting.
The climatic showdown features several segments without dialog or any sound other than very slight peripheral sounds; this silence multiplies the tension of the episode enormously and requires the viewer to read the eyes of the characters; David Janssen made a superb career out of conveying emotion through his eyes, and here Peter, Landis, and the rest of the cast rise to the occasion. When a harp performance of "I Wanna Be Free" is completed, Peter closes his eyes - conveying he is at peace. It works so well, in fact, that the viewer winds up preferring the silence continue on through the fadeout of Act II; when dialog resumes, it almost rudely disrupts the deafening silence of the scene even though breaking this silence is necessary.
Jim Frawley was nominated for an Emmy for this episode - arguably he should have won it for what may be a directorial apex. It certainly succeeds in elevating a comedic series to legitimate dramatic heights.
Integrity was always a focal point of The Monkees; it was concern for the integrity of the music that they reacted in horror when their first LPs came out without credit to other musicians for playing on the albums. The excessive (and in hindsight preposterous) critical backlash they had to endure embittered them precisely because they were thrown under the bus by the record producers who by the simple act of acknowledging how the music was created would have avoided questions about integrity.
This episode delves into that issue and delivers qualified drama that grabs the viewer and does not let go until the fadeout following Act II. Peter is tricked into purchasing a harp from S. Zero (Monte Landis), a shady pawnshop owner who is exploiting Peter's genuine love of the instrument, because the pawnshop owner is Mephistopheles himself, seeking to seize the soul of the unsuspecting Peter. Peter, however, is not skilled at playing the instrument, until Zero appears and Peter suddenly finds he has great dexterity in playing the harp. When a booking agent calls The Monkees and tells them to integrate the harp into their touring act (curiously none of the boys ponders that the agent was somehow tipped off by Zero) they take off and erupt into a nationwide hit.
But then Zero comes calling and Mike now takes him to task for his contract with Peter, leading to trial in Hades itself. After some humorous banter by the boys with Zero's witnesses (William "Billy The Kid" Bonney, Blackbeard the Pirate, and Attila the Hun), Mike dives into the heart of the matter by challenging the authenticity of Zero's claim to have given Peter the skill to play the harp. Here the trial becomes an allegory on the chicken-vs.-egg running controversy between artists and music companies over who is responsible for a group's success or lack thereof, with the theme of integrity permeating matters. Peter purchased the harp out of sincerity; Zero, however, sold it to him out of malice aforethought, and it leads to Zero's final challenge - he claims to purge the power to play the harp from Peter, and challenges him to now perform with the instrument, a challenge a rattled Peter must be coaxed by Mike into accepting.
The climatic showdown features several segments without dialog or any sound other than very slight peripheral sounds; this silence multiplies the tension of the episode enormously and requires the viewer to read the eyes of the characters; David Janssen made a superb career out of conveying emotion through his eyes, and here Peter, Landis, and the rest of the cast rise to the occasion. When a harp performance of "I Wanna Be Free" is completed, Peter closes his eyes - conveying he is at peace. It works so well, in fact, that the viewer winds up preferring the silence continue on through the fadeout of Act II; when dialog resumes, it almost rudely disrupts the deafening silence of the scene even though breaking this silence is necessary.
Jim Frawley was nominated for an Emmy for this episode - arguably he should have won it for what may be a directorial apex. It certainly succeeds in elevating a comedic series to legitimate dramatic heights.
