[Revised 2 July 2012]
Born on 2 July 1920, John Kneubuhl was raised in Samoa, attended school in Honolulu, and as an undergraduate at Yale had the amazing privilege of studying under the amazing Thornton Wilder. His mother was descended from Samoan royalty, his father a U. S. Navy surveyor from Iowa with Swiss ancestry.
In an afterward of a book of Kneubuhl’s plays, Kneubuhl was immediately recognized as special including having a supernatural experience. Many present after his birth say they saw his grandmother’s ghost lean over and kiss him in his cradle, then her shadow vanished. And there was magic. As the custom, the umbilical cord was placed in the rafters of the Christian church. If it remained a week, God would bless – but if it disappeared the rats would have dragged it to Satan. Kneubuhl’s cord was gone in 30 minutes!
Kneubuhl’s bilingualism and many childhood illnesses troubled him, but the fact he was reading The Merchant of Venice before perhaps 10, and his early attempts at poetry, indicated his high intelligence. He met his future wife at 13, and came in contact with wealthy patrons. He impressed everyone with his skill at the piano , which got him to Yale. His maestro rejected his first opera, and sent him to the creative writing workshops where he met Thornton Wilder. Wilder forced Kneubuhl to write a one act play every single day, but only get back two comments: “Write freely”, and “Discipline!”. In that cauldron, he wrote two well accepted plays, and came up with the concept of loneliness as the critical emotion in humanity – a theme that is frequent in his later teleplays.
In 1942 he joined Naval Intelligence as a Japanese language specialist. After the war he went back to Honolulu, and created new plays that were critically acclaimed. In 1950 he wrote and directed a film, Damien (1950) which was based in Hawaii of 1866. It was Kneubuhl’s chance to develop characters who showed the conflict of being American and Native and how they experienced the angst of loneliness within that turmoil. Having nothing to do with the later “Damien” of the Exorcist, this featured the character of Father Joseph Damien de Veuster’s who is distressed because several of his ailing and leprous parishioners are to be exiled to Molokai because of an arbitrary U.S. decree of isolating lepers. The film was a critical hit.
Kneubuhl spent four more years resting on those accolades, and with mere pennies in his pocket went calling on Hollywood.
In a recent magazine interview, his grand-niece reminisced:
“…he was married and had three children, and my grandfather didn’t want to bankroll him forever …so he left Hawai‘i for Hollywood. For twenty-something years, he wrote for every major TV network series: Rawhide, The Fugitive, Dr. Kildare. He was our big star.” Then one day he gave it all up, packed in the big house in Brentwood and returned to Samoa, where he became a respected advocate of bilingual education.”
So, John Kneubuhl was off to Hollywood, and then with at least 19 TV writing credits under his belt (1953-1958), he wrote and produced a true horror cinema cult classic, Screaming Skull.
It was based on Francis Marion Crawford’s story of the same title, first published around 1906. Crawford had heard of the legend if the so-called “screaming skull” that was kept on display at Bettiscomb Manor in Dorset, England. The low budget movie has weak acting and Floyd Crosby – a Roger Corman veteran – shot as if it were a Corman movie: Very Spooky camera angles. The music was done by Ernest Gold two years away from an Oscar.
Kneubuhl had over 50 more teleplays when he was hired to do The Wild Wild West show – one of many 1960′s James Bond parodies and take-offs. His second script for TWWW under the supervision of legendary Fred Freiberger and Gene L. Coon (later of Star Trek fame) was a masterstroke.
Cinefantastique writer, Craig Reid, relates the legendary creation of Miguelito Loveless thus:
Kneubuhl was flicking through an issue of TIME magazine … saw a picture of singer Michael Dunn and had a brainstorm. He told producer Fred Freiberger that he had this great idea to make Dunn West’s next opponent. … Dunn {was in} a nightclub where he was performing with his singing partner, Phoebe Dorin. Dorin signed on as Antoinette, Loveless’ singing sidekick, where each time they appeared on a show, they would perform a duet. Freiberger remembers, “When John came to me with this idea, I thought it would have been neat to have an opposite, in other words a giant, so we came up with Voltaire. But as usual, I had big problems from the network about having a dwarf being the lead villain, but I was truly fascinated with the idea of a dwarf owning half of California and then demanding it back. Plus, he truly hated everybody but the real target of his anger was God for making him such a monstrosity.”
Now, we finally come to the reason for this essay. Re-watching the old TWWW episodes, I was amazed at the gothic supernatural episode The Night of the Man-Eating House. It clearly had Poe influences, particularly Fall of the House of Usher, and allusions to the Cask of Amontillado. It touched on Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Grey, vampirism, and Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s The House and the Brain. Kneubuhl could not even resist poking a dig at Bulwer-Lytton by using a classic “dark and stormy night” scene.
(Bulwer-Lytton coined the phrase at the beginning of his 1830 novel Paul Clifford, and from almost the moment it was penned, became the primal scream of all critics of gothic fiction. Even in 1830, it was trite. That did not stop W.W. Jacob’s from parodying it in his 1902 The Monkey’s Paw. Nor did it stop a vast many 20th century film and TV writers from frequently conjuring up the image varying from homage to ridicule.)
In “Man Eating House”, Artimus (Ross Martin) falls asleep and has a gothic dream of a house that has been absorbed by the grieving mother of the prisoner they have recaptured and returning to prison. The house fights mightily, and James West (Robert Conrad) is perplexed and amazed as he comes to realize that there is truly a supernatural basis for what happens – a force he is powerless to affect. For good measure and fun, Hamilton Burger’s real-life alter ego (William Talman) plays the sheriff. (For even more details click here.)
As a Lovecraft aficionado, I could not miss one small aspect of the story. In a dungeon scene, West states that there are “rats in the walls”, thousands. They of course are invoked to potentially eat Artie and Jim. The twist ending can be read of one of two ways – but you have to watch to see what you think.
Deconstructing this story, it seems possible that it may have originally been conceived for a different venue. TWWW was not necessarily known for its supernatural element, but in early 1966 many new story lines were experimented with including science fiction. It is set up as a dream sequence which also indicates that the original teleplay or story idea might have been more for an anthology series such as when he wrote for Thriller in the very early 1960′s.
Kneubuhl had a long and illustrious career, but one more classic should be included. John Kneubuhl (2 July 1920 – 20 February 1992; age 71) wrote the story for the Star Trek: The Original Series episode “Bread and Circuses”, although he did not receive screen credit in the finished episode. It brought together again Gene Coon and John Kneubuhl.
In the episode Plato’s Stepchildren, which was a different episode, Michael Dunn presented a terrific acting job holding his own against – as always – scene stealing Shatner. The episode may best be remembered for the mid-60′s social dynamic of Captain Kirk kissing Lt. Uhuru, the first television interracial kiss. NBC executives were catatonic calling Roddenberry on the carpet for threatening their ratings in the Southern (then-segregated) states. He held his own, and no doubt with a lot of support by Lucy and Sheldon Leonard at Desilu. Legend has it he said something akin to, “He’s a red-blooded American, and she’s drop dead gorgeous – why wouldn’t he kiss her”.
Kneubuhl had hundreds of writing credits with amazing achievements in writing. He should be more celebrated for his fantastic fiction, and we at Misky hope we have done him justice in this small review.
Kneubuhl died 20 February 1992.
Note:
Sharp eyed Mike posted up on our error which we tried to fix, above. Thank you, Mike! Indeed, ST:TOS “Bread and Circuses” (which this writer watched on MeTV on Saturday, 30 June 2012!) involved a parallel Rome. Michael Dunn was in an entirely different episode as now amended, above. Many apologies, but thanks to everyone for reading the Misky blog. We’re glad you care about antiquarian horror and esoterica, and care enough to post comments. And today, 2 July 2012, would have been Mr. Kneubuhl’s birthday!
































