We're always on the lookout for deceptive packaging, and this disc is the sneakiest we've seen this year. The operative title is The Dirty Dozen, and the reader must look further to find out that the show being offered is not the famous and desirable 1967 Robert Aldrich picture but instead a pair of television movies from twenty years later. I wonder how many wives are wrapping this one up for Father's Day unaware that their husbands are going to be disappointed.

The double feature consists of two tele-features that crudely re-run the plot of the original: Dirty Dozen: The Deadly Mission and Dirty Dozen: The Fatal Mission. A bad-boy Major Wright assembles teams of convicted military criminals (always an even dozen) to pull off amazing commando missions behind enemy lines. The Major is played by Telly Savalas, who of course was the perverted racist sex killer from the original movie. Savalas is certainly adequate to the part, except for his restrictive physical condition: Whenever an action scene happens, he'll be the one shown either in an unidentifiable long shot or close-up in a controlled environment. For instance, we get several shots of soldiers shooting and jumping from a moving train, but when Savalas takes his turn, the train appears to be standing still. Frankly, Ol' Telly has a tough time just getting in and out of his jeep.

Each movie starts with a teaser opening in which Telly leads a previous Dirty Dozen at the finish of some outrageous raid in occupied France or thereabouts. We get the distinct notion that Eisenhower's high command is regularly sending 12-man jailhouse teams behind lines, and that they're a mainline strategy for winning the war. Then we return to headquarters to find out what "crucial" mission is next. Ernest Borgnine reprises as the general who disapproves of Major Wright but keeps sending back into action, like a high school coach with only one player left on the bench.

Wright's enlistment procedures are limited to guest stars, an eclectic mix of wa-ay over the hill talent and newer, forgettable faces. Across the two features we see Vince Edwards, Alex Cord, Erik Estrada and Ernie Hudson. Randall "Tex" Cobb and John Matuszak play predictable man-mountain parts. We also get two Van Pattens, James and Vincent, as well as Gary Graham, Hunt Block, Matthew Burton and Jeff Conaway. At a certain point, Wright's orders are read on the soundtrack: "You are ordered to train twelve prisoners…" Then each new movie gives us a perfunctory training bit followed by a reprise of the scene in the original where some prisoners prevent one of their own from jumping the fence and breaking up the group. When two movies follow the same template so closely, anybody can see that a good idea has fossilized into a rote formula.

Things improve when the missions go into action, mainly because the Yugoslavian productions don't scrimp on the explosions, bullet hits and military hardware. In one show Savalas and his pirates destroy a monastery where the Nazis are making nerve gas, and rescue some scientists and their families. In the other they wipe out a train carrying a Nazi brain trust, including Adolf Hitler's picked heir for a Fourth Reich should present Berlin plans not work out. There are plenty of fireballs and blazing machine guns, and the occasional impressive stunt, such as all twelve commandoes jumping from an overpass bridge onto the top of a moving train … although I don't remember seeing Savalas jump!

Mark Rodgers wrote both shows; his worst invention (in Fatal) is to offer us Heather Thomas as the first female member of the dozen. Otherwise the scripts are unimaginative, but not a complete embarrassment. Rodgers also wrote an episode for a Dirty Dozen TV series that aired briefly in 1988. Lee H. Katzin directs dull dramatic scenes but the action highlights are fairly well organized.

MGM's Double Feature edition of these two TV Movies are clean flat transfers with good color and solid if unimpressive sound tracks. There are no extras.