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"Colossus: The Forbin Project" was first published in 1966 as a Dennis Feltham Jones novel simply titled "Colossus," adapted by prolific TV writer James Bridges (16 episodes of THE ALFRED HITCHCOCK HOUR, plus 1971's "When Michael Calls"), soon to graduate to director himself from his own scripts ("The China Syndrome" and "Urban Cowboy" great box office successes). At the helm was Joseph Sargent, only his third feature film following a decade of hectic television work, finally returning full time to the small screen in 1980 ("Jaws: The Revenge" in 1987 was a less than memorable last hurrah). The completed film underwent several alternate titles before the final moniker, from "Colossus 1980" to "The Day the World Changed Hands" to "The Forbin Project," principal photography lasting from October 1968 through January 1969, followed by extensive postproduction that made the budget soar to over $2 million, facilities and equipment supplied by Control Data Corporation. Producer Stanley Chase selected the relatively unknown Hans Gudegast to make his starring debut under the more permanent Eric Braeden, a memorable villain opposite Roddy McDowall and Kim Hunter in 1971's "Escape from the Planet of the Apes." The film spends the opening 15 minutes with a series of congratulations for Braeden's Dr. Charles Forbin, who has installed a supercomputer beneath the Rocky Mountains to aid in the defense of Western civilization against foreign threats like the Soviet Union. Unfortunately, once 'Colossus' starts making decisions independently, Forbin quickly learns that his impregnable machine was fatally designed without an 'off' switch, instantly linking up with a similar Russian counterpart called 'Guardian' that brooks no interference, impervious to any attempt at sabotage. The response to dummy warheads or a power overload is to assassinate the would be perpetrators, Forbin himself the sole human being deemed indispensable to the extent that he is monitored on camera 24 hours a day with a rigid daily regimen prepared in advance (this he receives from assistant Marion Ross, later on HAPPY DAYS). Forbin is able to extract a single personal demand upon Colossus, regular nightly conjugals with pretend female mistress Cleo Markham (Susan Clark), allowing a few moments of privacy in bed to exchange vital information with the outside world (the flattered Cleo eventually relents to their intimate surroundings and soft wine). The finale is bleak and unrelenting, still effective in today's world of the internet, personal computers, and Artificial Intelligence, at least one reviewer observing that Forbin should be considered the villain of the piece despite the filmmakers' intentions. Alas, the cerebral approach worked only too well, critics raving but audiences staying away, the downbeat yet seemingly inevitable conclusion hammering home the ultimate horror, a storyline still trenchant today even though technology has of course moved on from such primitive beginnings.

"Ritual of Evil," an NBC broadcast on Feb. 23, 1970, was the lone sequel to the previous year's ratings hit "Fear No Evil," starring Louis Jourdan as occult parapsychologist David Sorel. While longtime viewers still recall the initial entry with high regard, this follow up (shot as "Next Time, My Love") seems to have curiously been forgotten, a new creative team in place for a tale of reincarnated evil, a self proclaimed witch (Diana Hyland) surely involved with murder and mayhem at the Wiley estate, the setting for a black mass, a human sacrifice, and a tragic suicide that foretells doom for those present. Wilfrid Hyde White again turns up as occult expert and Sorel mentor Harry Snowden, providing exposition in two scenes about the nature of this threat, each victim targeted by a simple photograph. Apart from the lead character, there's no other connection to "Fear No Evil," though demonic possession is a running theme; rather than go to series, NBC hedged their bets and went with what they considered a surefire winner, a new anthology hosted by Rod Serling called NIGHT GALLERY.

"Fear No Evil" was the NBC network's very first 'Monday Night at the Movies,' broadcast Mar. 3, 1969, the last assignment before his 1970 death for renowned screenwriter Guy Endore, initially touted as "Dead of Night," then changed to "The Bedeviled," before finally being completed by Richard Alan Simmons. It served as a proposed pilot for a series starring Louis Jourdan as Dr. David Sorel, a parapsychologist dealing in unexplained phenomena and the occult, aided by cohort Wilfrid Hyde White as Harry Snowden (Wilfrid had previously played a similar role in another failed pilot that actually went out to theaters, Patrick O'Neal's 1966 "Chamber of Horrors"). Paul Varney (Bradford Dillman) urgently makes a midnight call on a local antique shop to purchase a 200 year old full length mirror, preparing to wed fiancee Barbara Anholt (Lynda Day George) in a few weeks. The couple pay a visit to David Sorel the very next day, after which Paul is killed in an automobile accident when he spies his own visage in the rear view mirror. Feeling partially responsible for the tragedy, David takes it upon himself to treat the grieving Barbara, now temporarily staying at the estate of Paul's mother (Marsha Hunt), who was at first convinced that the poor girl was no good for her son but now seeks forgiveness. Meanwhile, the mirror that signaled his demise houses the Persian demon Rakashi (Lord of Light, Lust and Blood), taking his form to ravish Barbara each night, leaving her utterly drained and defenseless without David's guidance. A little diligent research leads the doctor to discover a modern day cult of devil worshipers who chose a random victim in Paul Varney, an evil that must be vanquished for Barbara to survive. Renowned as one of the scariest TV movies of its time, it's certainly frank about passion from beyond the grave, an uneasy foreshadowing of director Paul Wendkos' 1971 theatrical feature "The Mephisto Waltz," in which evil actually triumphs over good. So adept at cold, calculating villains (and a splendid "Count Dracula" for the BBC in 1977), Louis Jourdan makes for a surprisingly sympathetic protagonist, using rational logic in his search for the truth, earning a sequel one year later with "Ritual of Evil," but no subsequent series.