This week in TV Guide: October 15, 1960

We begin this week with the Letters section, filled with discussion regarding television's coverage of the Kennedy-Nixon "Great Debates." The third debated between the two has just occurred (October 13), but this issue would have gone to press prior to that; the tenor of the letters seems to suggest that most responses have been to the initial debate, which was held on September 26 in Chicago. It's been considered a landmark in American politics, as well as a turning point in the race between the two candidates, but TV Guide readers have mixed opinions on the whole thing. Mrs. R. H. Damon of Alton, Illinois offers the networks congratulations for their sponsorship of the debates, writing that "It was the most stimulating hour our family has ever spent before the television set," and Dawn Merek of Modesto, California adds that "This was one of the finest, most informative, public services presentations the networks have ever given their viewers."*

*Hard imagining anyone writing this about this year's debate.

Not everyone agrees with that assessment, however. Wetherby Boorman of San Bruno, California suggests that "the 'great debate' was more a great bore. It needed a theme song: 'Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better'," and R. M. Hooper of Boston (echoing comments many might make about today's debate formats) "did not care for a combination of so-called debate and panel show. Let's have one or the other."

It's difficult to appreciate what a sensation the four presidential debates of 1960 were at the time. About 70 million watched that first debate, at the time the most-watched television program ever. It was made possible only because Congress had agreed to suspend the equal-time provision that would otherwise have required the networks to include all fringe candidates in the debates. And, given the closeness of the final outcome, it's not hard to imagine the debates (especially the first one) playing a part in Kennedy's victory.* Though the 1960 debates were widely applauded, a combination of uncompetitive races (1964 and 1972) and Nixon's own reticence (1968) meant it would be 1976 before candidates would face off again, when a desperate incumbent (Gerald Ford) and an ambitious challenger (Jimmy Carter) agreed to reengage what has since become a ritual of American politics.

*Although it might just as likely have been the way votes were counted in Illinois and Texas.

Most people today are aware the polls showing that people who listened to that first debate on the radio tabbed Nixon as the winner while those watching on TV thought Kennedy had the advantage, and the potential of television to affect the outcome of an election bothered some observers even in 1960. As early as 1962, Edward Rogers' novel Face to Face explored the potential for backstage machinations to influence the outcome of a debate, and today's campaigns argue about everything from the moderator to the height of the rostrum, and whether or not the microphones are muted when the candidate is not speaking. Regardless, the televised presidential debate—for better or worse—seems to be with us to stay.

The last word on the subject, at least for this year, comes on the last night of the week: the final debate between Nixon and Kennedy, scheduled for 9:00 p.m. (CT) Friday night in New York, with the two candidates scheduled to square off on foreign policy. (A side note: the Theater Owners of America have begged the political parties to please, not schedule any more debates on Friday nights; they're putting a sizeable dent in the weekend theater business.) If you look closely at the graphic above, you'll notice both Nixon and Kennedy wearing bowties. They're probably clad in tuxedos, which means this drawing was quite likely based off of a picture from the Al Smith dinner held in New York earlier that month. Just a little detail for your reading pleasure.

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There's some additional material in the Letters section, and it too sheds light on the state of the American mind in 1960.

The final three letters are all concerning an ABC documentary entitled Cast the First Stone, which apparently dealt with the issue of race in America, particularly when it came to school desegregation. A letter writer from Baton Rouge, Louisiana who wishes to remain anonymous demonstrates the skepticism and defensiveness with which the South views both the North and Federal authority. Says the writer, "If Chicago has more segregated schools than Little Rock [a point that must have been made in the program], why don't our powerful Supreme Courts take action? Does the so-called law of the land apply only to the dear Southland?"

George Compton, of Brooklyn, New York, echos a point many made (including FBI chief J. Edgar Hoover) at the time, suggesting that the civil rights movement has been infiltrated and taken over by the Communists. Mr. Compton singles out ABC news chief John Charles Daly and his associates for "practically confirming the statements of the past week of Khrushchev-Castro. . . He couldn't have picked a better time nor a better subject (discrimination here in America) . . . I am sure Khrushchev thanks him, Castro thanks him, and most of all, the Party thanks him!"

Another anonymous writer, from Toms River, New Jersey, looks at the Red angle differently, praising ABC for presenting "A real eye-opener. We should start acting like real Americans toward one another instead of giving Mr. K and his friend the bearded windbag additional reason to criticize."

It's a fascinating snapshot of how strong emotions ran at the time, and how layered it really was. The final two letters both look at the impact of discrimination in terms of how the rest of the world views America, but while the Compton letter accuses ABC of playing into the Communists' propaganda, the writer in Toms River suggests just the opposite, that it's America's willingness to take an honest look at itself that will disarm the Soviet message.

The letter from Baton Rouge, suggesting that the North take a look at itself before getting too self-righteous, will be brought home in the next decade, when the North first felt the full brunt of violence over school busing. The rioting and demonstrations in Boston gave many Americans a real look at behavior usually associated with the South, and demonstrated that race isn't always a geographical issue. I wonder if this wasn't one of the points of the documentary in the first place?

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For the first time in the television era, viewers have dueling football leagues to choose from. It's the first season for the American Football League, the league that goes toe-to-toe with the NFL until the two leagues eventually merge in 1970 (although the actual arrangements occurred much earlier).

It's a jumbled television arrangement for the leagues in 1960; while the AFL has an exclusive league-wide contract with ABC, the NFL hasn't yet leveraged its collective selling power to sign a similar agreement. Most teams are contracted with CBS, but the Baltimore Colts remain one of the teams to broadcast home games on NBC. And to complicate things further, Dallas-Ft. Worth is blacked out from the NFL entirely on those Sundays when the brand-new Dallas Cowboys play at home.

Therefore, if you live in Dallas on October 16, 1960, the only game you're getting is the AFL matchup between the Dallas Texas and their cross-state rivals, the Houston Oilers. (2:30 p.m., ABC) If you want the Cowboys, you'd best head for Wichita Falls, where KSYD has their game against the Cleveland Browns. (1:30 p.m., CBS) And those folks living in Wichita Falls, as well as Sherman, are in luck: they can also see the Colts playing against the Los Angeles Rams. (noon, NBC)

You're probably thinking that for such a convoluted situation, there has to be some kind of "rest of the story," and if you did, you'd be right. The Dallas Texans, uncertain that they'd be able to compete with the Cowboys, wind up moving to Kansas City and becoming the Chiefs. The Oilers, unable to get a new stadium in the 90s, move to Nashville, Tennessee (where another new stadium is currently under construction). The Baltimore Colts and Los Angeles Rams, whose owners traded teams in the '70s, wind up on the move as well; when the new owner of the Rams, Carroll Rosenbloom, dies in a swimming accident, his widow* inherits the team, and eventually moves it to St. Louis. The Colts, with their new owner, move to Indianapolis under cover of darkness. And the Browns (who actually took the place of the Cleveland Rams when they moved to Los Angeles) head to Baltimore, to replace the Colts. Houston and Cleveland do get expansion teams in time, but the Houston Texans (not to be confused with the Dallas Texans) come about only because a franchise granted to another city is forfeited when that city can't put together an ownership team in time. That city? Los Angeles.  Of the six teams playing on television that day, only the Cowboys remain in the same place today.

*Rosenbloom's widow, Georgia, later remarries. Her new husband is Dominic Frontiere, whom you know as one of the great composers of music for television shows, including The Outer Limits.

Lest you think this movement is limited to football, however, there's an NBA basketball game for us to analyze as well, NBC's Saturday matinee between the St. Louis Hawks and Cincinnati Royals, a preseason game played in Indianapolis. The Royals, who started out in Rochester before moving to Cincinnati, will eventually head from Cincy to Kansas City (where, the name Royals having already been taken, became the Kansas City Kings), before making their way west to become the Sacramento Kings, and in the last few years coming thisclose to being the new Seattle SuperSonics (before extorting a new arena out of the taxpayers of Sacramento). The Hawks, recently of Milwaukee, have some glory years in St. Louis, but at press time make their home in Atlanta.

What does all this tell us, other than that professional sports is a fickle business? Well, it tells us a lot about the importance of demographics and television markets, as well as the leverage that sports franchises hold when it comes to public funding of stadiums and arenas. Franchise moves into the Sun Belt (Atlanta, Nashville) show us the shift in population out of the Rust Belt, making these new markets increasingly valuable when negotiating television contracts. Teams such as the original Browns and Oilers headed for greener pastures, where new stadiums were forthcoming. The expansion Browns, as well as the Texans and the Baltimore Ravens, came into being because cities that had been burned by having previous teams leave were more willing to shell out public financing. And the NBA, which has always been willing to head for smaller markets, remains a league where gate receipts play a big role in a team's financial success.

Another brief lesson in economics courtesy of TV Guide.

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And a look at what else is on television this week.

Last week in this space, we saw the proliferation of Warner Bros. cookie-cutter detective dramas, and Saturday marks the debut of a variation on the theme, The Roaring 20's (6:30 p.m., ABC), with Rex Reason and Donald May alternating as the leads, Scott Norris and Pat Garrison, newspapermen dedicated to searching out crime in New York City, and the luminous Dorothy Provine stealing the show as flapper Pinky Pinkham. And since our stars are P.I.'s in all but name, they have to have a foil on the force, in the person of detective lieutenant Joe Switolski, played by Mike Road. 

On Sunday, Ed Sullivan take his show on the road for the first in a series of monthly "See America with Ed Sullivan" specials, featuring stars from the city in question. This month, Ed visits San Francisco (7:00 p.m., CBS), with guests Johnny Mathis, Peggy Lee, the Dave Brubeck Quartet, Mort Sahl and Dorothy Kirsten. Later, Art Linkletter hosts a special Chevy Show entitled "Love is Funny" (8:00 p.m., NBC), a play on his "People are Funny" bit, with Chuck Connors, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Alan Young, Betty Garrett, and Jimmie Rodgers. And Jack Benny kicks off his 11th season with a very funny episode: "Worried about facing the weekly grind, Jack solves the problem by falling asleep. But, horror of horrors, he's facing interviewer Mike Wallace." Given my recent podcast about Wallace, I couldn't help but be amused by this. You can see the episode here.

Monday evening, CBS presents the third episode of The Andy Griffith Show. (8:30 p.m.) The show immediately follows The Danny Thomas Show, which makes sense since a) Thomas produces the Griffith show, and b) Griffith made his first appearance as Sheriff Andy Taylor in a Thomas episode the previous season. This week, "Guitar player Jim Lindsey (James Best) is thrown in the clink. And who should be in the adjoining cell but a full dance band that's been arrested for illegal parking." Of course, that kind of thing happened all the time in the World's Worst Town™.

Tuesday's episode of Thriller (8:00 p.m., NBC) stars character actors Everett Sloane, Frank Silvera, and Jay C. Flippen in "The Guilty Men," a story of gangsters trying to disentangle themselves from a narcotics racket, and finding out it isn't all that easy. Oftentimes, the most interesting thing about Thriller is its host, Boris Karloff, and as he nears 73, he reflects on his many years of acting, and how he's been able to, for the most part, get away from the reputation as king of horror films. "I just happened to be standing on the right corner when the right person happened along last spring," he says by explanation of how he got his new gig. "Unfortunately, I appear as myself, which is a frightful thing to do to an audience." 

Karloff "struck oil" with Frankenstein 29 years ago, but he feels he never really came into his own until his appearance on Broadway in Arsenic and Old Lace, which ran a little over two years. He was back on Broadway ten years ago playing Captain Hook and Mr. Darling opposite Jean Arthur in Peter Pan, which gave him a great deal of satisfaction. "The audience was always full of children seeing their very first drama. You couldn't, of course, imagine a more delightful or enchanting play than Peter Pan for one's first visit to the theater." It will be in that spirit that he takes on one of his greatest roles, that of the Grinch in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and that alone will ensure that Karloff will remain known forever.

On Wednesday, the U.S. Steel Hour (9:00 p.m., CBS) celebrates America's love affair with the automobile in the musical salute "Step on the Gas," starring Jackie Cooper, Shirley Jones, Hans Conried, Pat Carroll, Share Lewis, and the dance team of Rod Alexander and Carmen G, and it's produced by Max Liebman, who knows a thing or two about putting on television spectaculars. Opposite that, it's Peter Loves Mary (9:00 p.m., NBC), starring the real-life married couple of Peter Lind Hayes and Mary Healy. Stay tuned for a very funny (and very insightful) article by Peter Lind Hayes, one of the dryest wits on television. 

Thursday: Before Steven Hill was in Law & Order, before he was in Mission: Impossible, he was Steve Hill, and tonight Steve Hill is the notorious mobster Legs Diamond in The Untouchables (8:30 p.m., ABC). By the way, there's a note in this week's issue that "A psychiatrist discusses this series in next week's TV Guide." I wonder what the diagnosis is. . . Elsewhere, Raymond Burr is one of the guests on Person to Person (9:00 p.m., CBS), now hosted by Charles Collingwood; Burr is being interviewed from his Pacific Pallisades home with his houseguests, Governor and Mrs. Mark Hatfield of Oregon. 

Friday: The Nixon-Kennedy debate (9:00 p.m., all networks) is probably the biggest show of the night, but in a program that may or may not be related, Paul Winchell and Jerry Mahoney host All Star Circus (8:00 p.m., NBC), featuring Copenhagen's Cirkus Schumann. Just goes to show that you don't always need politicians to have a circus. There's also an intriguing drama about a moment in history that I've never heard of before. It's "Not Without Honor," an episode of Our American Heritage (6:30 p.m., NBC), starring Ralph Bellamy and Arthur Kennedy. The story: "Some months before the Presidential election of 1800, Alexander Hamilton pays George Washington a visit.  His purpose: to persuade Washington to run on the Federalist ticket—against Thomas Jefferson." That ad shows two men with pistols standing back-to-back, and since Aaron Burr appears in the cast, I can only guess that this is where this story ends up. Fortunately, by 1960 our political opponents only debate each other.

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And now that article by Peter Lind Hayes that I promised you. He and Mary Healy have been married for nearly 20 years now, and have worked together since they were paired up by their respective studios for a vaudeville junket. (Peter was, in fact, the only one in the troupe with any vaudeville experience.) By the end of the tour, he was in love; he proposed to her over the phone from a clube in Washington after he'd won $26 in quarters from a slot machine. "She kept saying I must be crazy but when I told her I was out of quarters she gave in." Twenty years later she still laughs at his jokes, "and they're not that funny any more." 

Since anyone in show business whose marriage has lasted more than six months is considered an expert on the topic, Hayes has been asked by TV Guide to provide his advice on how to have a happy marriage, a command he's only too happy to comply with. For the Hayeses, "the family that plays together stays together"—since their marriage, they've made it a policy to only accept engagements that they could play together. Not everyone can be that fortunate, though; "Not every doctor's wife can be his nurse." So how does a couple navigate the pitfalls inherent in marriage? Some of his suggestions are said with a shade of whimsy, such as #9, "There is a sure cure for the mate who snores: a bullet," but many of them are built around a core of common sense—a commodity that's in short supply these days 

For example, Hayes stresses in several of his tips that a husband and wife need to have their own lives as well as participating in the one life formed by marriage. Whether it's having some time alone (#1), making sure that the spouse who's not the breadwinner still remains active (#5), or having individual hobbies and pastimes (#10), it's important not to simply live life through your spouse's. He also stresses that parents should not be "pals" to their kids (#3): "I love my kids, but I'm not their pal—I'm their father, and they like it that way. My home is nice for them to live in, but I am bigger than they are and so long as they live in it they're going to obey me, the 'lovable old tyrant'." Today, by contrast, too many parents are still trying to live their own childhood for them to be parents to their kids. 

In-laws are always a potential problem, as well as a useful trope for sitcoms; Peter suggests that you "Treat them with a sense of humor and life will be easier." (#4) He's made his mother-in-law the butt of many of his jokes ("I haven't seen Mary's mother for months—she's been away teaching the Marines to fight dirty.") but if he lets up on her, she feels ignored. Too many couples are apt to forget #6, "Save your arguing for important matters. Don't waste it on picayune things." If your wife says the South won the Civil War, let it pass; "I'd rather be married to Mary than prove myself right." There's #2, "Too much meddling can kill a marriage," #7, "Too many husbands take their wives for granted," and, perhaps most important, #8: "Don't play bridge or golf with your spouse." Talk about a no-win situation.

Peter Lind Hayes and Mary Healy were married for 57 years, until his death in 1998. If you want to know why, it can all be summed up in the closing sentence of this article: "The title of our television series, Peter Loves Mary, is correct but incomplete. It should be Peter Loves Mary. . . More Each Year. I know just what he means. TV  

Around the dial

At Comfort TV, David alludes to something I've often wondered about: why is it that we can watch classic TV commercials—even enjoy them—but get so annoyed by the ones on today? Two reasons: less noise, normal people.

John wraps up his Cult TV Blog look at actor Denis Shaw's TV roles with "Are You Going to Be More Permanent?" from Danger Man, and comes to some conclusions about concentrating on an actor and his roles, rather than the plots of the shows themselves.

At Cult TV Lounge (no relation), it's a look back at the 1983 miniseries V. I remember when this first aired; there was something allegorical about the idea of following resistance members fighting against a world takeover, and their use of the "V" as a symbol of their resistance.

Remember the 1976 series Popi? Based on the 1969 movie of the same name, it starred Héctor Elizondo as a widower living with his two sons in New York; although it ran for only 11 episodes, it does occupy a small place in TV history; Terence recalls its significance at A Shroud of Thoughts. 

Remember Rona Barrett? Travanche does, and so do I. She was one of the great gossip columnists of the 1970s and '80s, and if you wanted to know what was going on behind the scenes in Hollywood, you read her column or watched her on TV. This week, she turned 88!

How about some podcasts? At Eventually Supertrain, it's episode #177, and our experts discuss three blasts from the past: Bronk, the police drama starring Jack Palance; Chopper One, a police drama with a helicopter; and Misfits of Science, with young superheroes galore!

At Random Access Television, Zach and Joe turn to T.J. Hooker, with William Shatner as a superhero police sergeant, plus Heather Locklear, Adrian Zmed, and the late, great James Darren. Was this the last series Shatner was in where he wasn't a parody of himself, or was he over the top here too?

At TV Confidential, Ed has a great collection of guests, including Walter Koenig, Louise Sorel, and Dean Butler; there are also segments on Theo Bikel, Sergio Mendes, and more. Also, don't miss where you can hear this week's show, featuring an encore of his interview with Barbara Feldon.

Finally, there's Your 45's Are 50!, where Hugh's weekly recaps are not to be missed. By the time you read this, he'll have this week's episode up, but don't miss the archives; the September 28th, 1974 episode includes a link to my review of that week's TV Guide—thanks again, Hugh! TV  

The British Invasion of Television

Most of the time, when we hear the phrase "British Invasion," we think of The Beatles. That was not, however, the only British invasion that America has experienced. (Best not to even think about the War of 1812.) In fact, even before the Brits took over pop culture, there was a British invasion of television. That's the subject of my latest appearance on Dan Schneider's Video Interview. 

When did this British Invasion begin? Some people will think of classic mysteries like Sherlock Holmes, Poirot, and Inspector Morse. Others will go further back to Masterpiece Theatre, and the lavish miniseries such as Upstairs, Downstairs, I, Claudius, and Poldark. The older ones among us will recall The Avengers, Secret Agent, The Prisoner, and The Saint. But in fact, it actually begins in 1952, with the appearance of Alistair Cooke as host on the arts and culture program Omnibus. Although Cooke wasn't a performer himself, his suave urbanity and wit prepared Americans for the concept of British quality on American TV. This era is what I think of as the First British Invasion.

The first British series to be imported for an American television network was 1955's The Adventures of Robin Hood, which ran for three seasons on CBS. After that, there were similar adventure programs—The Adventures of Sir Lancelot, The Buccaneers, and more. The early 1960s saw the influence of James Bond spread to the small screen, with imports like Danger Man (aka Secret Agent), The Avengers, The Saint, and The Prisoner. Those were followed by series looking to specifically target the American market by casting American actors in the lead roles: The Baron, starring Steve Forrest, Court-Martial, with Bradford Dillman and Peter Graves, Man in a Suitcase, starring Richard Bradford, and The Champions, starring Stuart Damon, Alexandra Bastedo, and William Gaunt. 

By the end of the decade, a fortuituous combination of circumstances let to public broadcasting's import of the British series The Forsyte Saga. Its singular success would, in turn, lead to what I call the Second British Invasion, the one most of us are probably more familiar with, the centerpiece being Masterpiece Theatre, hosted by none other than—Alistair Cooke.

It's at this point, for the most part, that our program ends; Dan and I get into some of the programs that follow Masterpiece Theatre, but in this episode I really wanted to concentrate on the initial British incursion into American television. It's a big topic, and there were areas we didn't have time to explore in the kind of detail I'd prefer, but that's why we have follow-up podcasts.  

I think you'll enjoy it—it's a topic I look forward to expanding on at some point in the future! TV  

What's on TV? Tuesday, October 6, 1959

Today's listings show us what would have been on NBC's afternoon schedule were it not for the World Series, but as fate (and the delayed start to the Series) would have it, the Dodgers and White Sox are facing off in Game 5 this afternoon from Los Angeles. 

	2:30	-5- -6-  8  10 13 WORLD SERIES WARMUP   SPECIAL    COLOR
	2:45	-5- -6-  8  10 13 WORLD SERIES   SPECIAL    COLOR

The game took a cool 2:28 to play (Chicago 1, Los Angeles 0, which means Game 6 on Wednesday), so regular programming should have resumed by 5:30 p.m. Not bad, hmm? This game, as well as the rest of the day's listings, is brought to you by the Minnesota edition.

This week in TV Guide: October 3, 1959

Lee Marvin is one angry man. Not the Last Angry Man; that was Paul Muni, and anyway, this issue is 65 years old and there have been a lot of angry men since then. Angry women, too, for that matter. But Lee Marvin is, in fact, angry, although it's hard to say what, exactly, he's angry about. Or perhaps it's better to ask: what isn't he angry about?

Bob Johnson catches up with Marvin on the set of M Squad, now beginning its second season. The ensuing article—well, I can't really call it an interview, since aside from the first and last paragraphs, there's no evidence that Marvin actually answered any questions from Johnson. Instead, he conducted a very entertaining two-page stream-of-consciousness monologue. The following excerpts are, I can assure you, exact quotes.

The article begins with Marvin leaving the set for the lunch break. "'It's moving,' he said, stomping and muttering through smaller billows of the claylike material he was brushing out of his crew cut with both hands. 'If it's moving, baby, I say grab it. Look at this filthy mess. Let's go.'"

The topic turns to M Squad. 

"Who knows? You tell me. It's a cop series, what else? The guy's a cop. Who wants the truth? It's like an artist. He's got this painting. He says, 'But don't you see, it's yah-foo-lah-lah-lah. You notice how that yellow shines?

"I dunno, it's moving. Lieutenant Ballinger—who knows—he's a cop. You tell me. We took Chicago. It was all that was left. I know Chicago cops. Rough. They have to be. The whole city would explode. It's like a bomb, Chicago. I know. Look at the setup."

After spending some time on Chicago police politics, he continues:

"We shoot locations, twice a year. No permit, no co-operation. They don't want any part of us. We're going next week again. Shoot and run. It finally came down to: 'Okay, any public building, but nothing else, no stopping traffic.' I stay back, out of sight. Hat pulled down. Director says okay, walks through what I do, says, 'Like that, Lee.' I do it, we shoot it and blow. Kids come along, see the crowd, it's always the same thing in Chicago. Right away, 'Who got killed?'  That's what a crowd means to most Chicago kids.

"One time we're up on a roof. On the edge over the sidewalk. Me and this actor, struggling over a gun. I thought I'd hoke it up a little. We can't carry sound equipment, have to move too fast. Dub it later. I saw these two gals walking along. Right under us. I yelled, 'Gimme that gun, I'll kill you!' They looked up, yah, hoo, whu, hmm? Two men on a roof, killing each other. And these girls went right on. They didn't even break stride.

"Lieutenant Friday, Dragnet, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Lineup. What's their problem? No problem. It's routine. It's static. But not Chicago. They stop it before it happens. They have to.

"Chicago'd go like a bomb, the whole place. I know. I spent a year there, going to secretarial school. After the war, out of the Marines, wacked up, shot near the spine, whoo lah, hero. I couldn't do anything. Nothing. I didn't know ho. High school, no training. Navy ROTC school in New Jersey, 14 years old and they pulled rank on me. This old admiral, 61, still in uniform, and a kid 14 years old. I cut out and sold my uniform.

"Yeah, typing, shorthand, I didn't know. And then back to New York, digging ditches. Septic tanks. A guy digging ditches or a plumber wiping a joint, you know? It solves problems. Says, 'Dig this hole, so wide, so long, so deep,' you dig it. That's it. You climb out and say, 'Boy, I don't know what it was, and loo-foo-fah-foo, but I solved it today.' Good therapy for my back. Plumber in New York, fixed pipe up in Woodstock. They were doing a play, who knows? Said why didn't I give it a try. So? I tried it. One line, walk on, walk off, deep voice, big shoulders, and back the next night. And so on.

"It's like M Squad. The M doesn't stand for anything. It's any dirty job. Let's face it, we're the Storm Troops. A lone cop, Chicago, what else? M Squad. I liked The Loop. That's what somebody wanted to call it. I wanted to do a lot of things. I talk to myself, driving along, who doesn't? You come out of a conference, you sit there at a stop light, say, 'Yeah, fah-loo-dee-doo, BUT, you say."

There's more to the article, but you get the idea. You wonder if Bob Johnson had to do anything other than take notes. After starting Marvin off, he doesn't return again until the final paragraphs, when the two men return to the set ("Three steak sandwiches later."), Marvin talking all the way. As they part, he says, "If it's moving, baby, grab it."

M Squad, which runs for three seasons, will be Marvin's only television series (other than appearing as narrator in the 1963-64 true crime series Lawbreaker). In an interview later in his career, he refers to doing the series as something akin to a box he had to tick off before he'd be allowed to progress to bigger roles in movies. And they do get bigger, culminating in his Oscar-winning performance in Cat Ballou, and his acclaimed role in the neo-noir classic Point Blank. But, as good as those performances are, could they have been any more entertaining than his "interview" with Bob Johnson?

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The World Series continues this week, though we don't really know when or where. The National League pennant had not been settled at press time, and so the specifics depend on which of three teams came out on top. If the Milwaukee Braves won the National League pennant, Saturday's Game 4 will begin at 12:45 p.m. CT on NBC, in black-and-white. On the other hand, if the pennant went to either the Los Angeles Dodgers or San Francisco Giants (and how strange those names must have seemed in 1959!), the first pitch will be at 2:30 p.m., and in color. What we do know for certain is that the opponent will be the American League champion Chicago White Sox, playing in their first World Series since the Black Sox scandal of 1919. The Series continues Sunday with Game 5 (if necessary; same time, same channel), before returning to the Windy City* for the final two games (noon, in color).  

*I wonder if they saw Lee Marvin while they were there?

At least that's what TV Guide says. In fact, there was no game on Saturday; the Dodgers and Braves finished in a tie for first place, and the resulting three-game playoff (won by the Dodgers two games to none) delayed the start of the Series to Thursday. The Dodgers and Sox split the two games in Chicago, and after using Saturday as a travel day, the Dodgers won two out of three in Los Angeles and closed out the Series with a 9-3 victory in Game 6 in Chicago.

If you have your heart set on sports on Saturday, you'll have to make due with the college football game of the week, pitting the California Golden Bears and Texas Longhorns from Austin (3:15 p.m., NBC), or the NFL's Saturday night tilt between the Chicago Bears and Baltimore Colts from Baltimore (9:30 p.m., ABC, tape-delayed).

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Last season saw the premiere of the Warner Bros. detective series 77 Sunset Strip, starring Efrem Zimbalist Jr., Roger Smith, and Edd Byrnes; the show's success spawns a succession of similar "assembly line"-style detective shows from Warner, all employing exotic locations, handsome young stars rotating as the leads, and a variety of guest stars from the WB stable of talent*. First up is Bourbon Street Beat (Monday, 7:30 p.m, ABC), starring Richard Long, Andrew Duggan, Van Williams, and Arlene Howell. Although it only runs for one season, it's perhaps the best of the Sunset Strip clones; Richard Long's character will wind up on Sunset Strip after Bourbon Street Beat's cancellation, while the character played by Van Williams will be spun off into yet another series, Surfside 6, which will debut next season. 

*Classic TV fans will recognize this technique from the WB stable of Westerns, including Maverick, Cheyenne, Bronco, and Sugarfoot. You'll see it again next season, when, in addition to Surfside 6, the studio introduces the period drama The Roaring 20s, with Rex Reason, Donald May, and Dorothy Provine.

And that's not the only WB detective series to debut this week; on Wednesday night, it's Hawaiian Eye (8:30 p.m., ABC), starring Anthony Eisley, Robert Conrad, Connie Stevens, and Poncie Ponce. Hawaiian Eye is, next to Sunset Strip, the most successful of the WB detective shows, running for four seasons (Sunset Strip goes for six), although there's a notable drop in quality after Anthony Eisley leaves following the third season. The plots in all of these series are more or less interchangable, but that makes them no less entertaining. The characters are interchangable as well, sometimes literally; they all exist in the same universe, with each of the detective teams making at least one appearance on at least one of the other series. After all, why mess with success?

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Although we're now into October, we're still seeing the debuts of new series, as well as the return of old standbys. Let's take a look a some of each.

This week Dan Jenkins reviews Dick Clark's weekly output, and I put it that way because the man seems to be on TV all the time. In fact, says Jenkins, we haven't seen anyone like Clark since the heyday of Arthur Godfrey: "an appealing personality, the 'soft-sell' commercial approach, and a back-breaking eight and a half hours a week on network TV." For starters, there's American Bandstand, which airs from Philadelphia, at 90 minutes a day, five afternoons a week. On Saturday night, he hosts The Dick Clark Show (6:30 p.m., ABC) from New York. And just last Sunday, his third series, World of Talent, debuted at 9:30 p.m., again on ABC. Clark sets a good example for the youth of America: "he dresses conservatively and neatly, is unfailingly polite, speaks quietly with an excellent command of English and has poise not often associated with is clamorous following." If Jenkins could add one thing, it would be to raise the music-appreciation level of his audience by throwing in a classical piece once or twice a week, "exposing the younger generation to music that is not a mixture of odd lyrics and monotonous chords." I think he's serious about that, by the way. And after all, if you can't get down and boogie to Wolfie Mozart, you just aren't rad, man.

Sunday presents us with a trio of new programs, all of which are available on DVD: Dennis the Menace (6:30 p.m., CBS), based on the popular comic strip, starring Jay North as Dennis; The Rebel (8:00 p.m., ABC), the post-Civil War Western with Nick Adams as Johnny Yuma, a Southern army vet looking for the meaning to his life following the war; and The Alaskans (8:30 p.m., ABC), yet another WB adventure series, starring Roger Moore, Jeff York, and Dorothy Provine in tales of the Alaskan gold rush of 1898. Interesting note: all three of these series are available on DVD. They join some returning favorites: Lawman (7:30 p.m., ABC), The Dinah Shore Show (8:00 p.m., NBC), and The Jack Benny Program (9:00 p.m., CBS). 

The rollout of new series continues on Monday with James A. Michener's Adventures in Paradise (8:00 p.m., ABC), starring Gardner McKay. Michener's creditentials for creating a series based in the Pacific are impeccable; a decade ago, he won the Pulitzer Prize for Tales of the South Pacific, which was made into the musical South Pacific; in an article written by Michener for this week's issue, he talks about having spent years on proposals for such a series (including, although he doesn't mention it, a weekly series based on South Pacific), but it's only now that all the pieces have fallen into place. He credits producer Martin Manulis for converting his ideas into reality, and heaps praise on leading man McKay: "He not only looks the part of a South Seas skipper. He is one. . . rugged, ready for a fight, yet reserved and marked for considerable self-control." Michener adds, "There is a bigness about all he does. He is small neither in size nor manner, and to serve as master of a schooner in the waters I know best requires a certain bigness of spirit." We've read McKay's views on his experience doing the show, so we'll let Michener have the last word on the prospects for his series: "A man and his boat have, since the beginning of history, been symbols of high adventure, and we want to keep it that way."

Tuesday sees the premiere of Ford Startime (8:30 p.m., NBC), a big-name weekly anthology series that includes, comedy, drama, and variety presentations. For tonight's debut, Rosalind Russell hosts "The Wonderful World of Entertainment," a musical revue featuring Polly Bergen, Maurice Chevalier,Eddie Foy Jr., Eddie Hodges, Ernie Kovacs, Arthur O'Connell, Jack Paar, and Kate Smith. Startime was billed as "TV's finest hour," and its history is worth spending another minute or so; Alfred Hitchcock directed the drama "Incident at a Corner," Ingrid Bergman starred in an adaptation of "The Turn of the Screw," Dean Martin hosted a couple of variety hours, Jerry Lewis starred in "The Jazz Singer" (available on DVD), and Mitch Miller hosted "The Mitch Miller Variety Show," which, of course, became Sing Along With Mitch the following season. Unfortunately, the ratings for Startime didn't quite live up to the billing (it was up against, among other programs, The Red Skelton Show), and Ford pulled the plug on its very expensive investment after a single season. Another single-season series starts tonight: Phillip Marlowe (8:30 p.m., ABC), based on Raymond Chandler's famous private detective, starring Philip Carey. This series seems as if should have been a natural; Marlowe is one of the great characters in detective fiction, and Carey is a capable actor. Marlowe's a unique character, though, and it takes an actor like Dick Powell* to fully realize it.  It was probably too generic in its delivery, wasting its potential.

*Whose wife, June Allyson, appears on the cover of this week's issue.

Although Men in Space (Wednesday, 7:30 p.m., CBS) is classified as "Adventure," it's one of the first series to deal with manned spaceflight in a serious manner, as opposed to shows such as Rocky Jones, Buck Rogers, and Captain Video; think of it as Wyatt Earp ushering in the era of adult Westerns from shows like Roy Rogers.* The series stars William Lundigan as Col. Edward McCauley, America's most distinguished astronaut, and as the series begins (it debuted last week), he's preparing to lead the first manned flight to the moon. But complications arise, as a senator questions the expense of the flight. 

*In Britain, on the other hand, the show was marketed as a children's series; the timeslot it occupied was later filled by Doctor Who.

The Big Party debuts Thursday (8:30 p.m., CBS), and in this case, when they say "Big" they mean it: a 90-minute variety show (a tough sell; ask Jerry Lewis how well those work), alternating every other week with Playhouse 90. I've seen it described as "a perfect melange of the television variety show genre and high camp": each week, a celebrity guest host invites various celebrities to their penthouse or hotel suite for a party, where everyone is supposed to act completely natural until they break into song. (Imagine that alternating with a show that once brought you the likes of "Requiem for a Heavyweight.") Tonight, Rock Hudson decides to throw a party and calls his friend Tallulah Bankhead to "get on the phone and invite some friends." The "friends" include Sammy Davis Jr., Matt Dennis, Lisa Kirk, Carlos Montoya, Mort Sahl, and Esther Williams. (You can see it here.) It sounds kinda similar to the scenario employed by Hugh Heffner's Playboy's Penthouse, and if it's anything like that, my advise is to ignore the camp for 90 minutes and just enjoy the performances. And you'd better hurry; although it's supposed to be on for a full season, it ends with the New Year's Eve party.

 

It's a good week for Red Skelton; not only does he appear in his regular Tuesday night slot, you can also see him on Friday's Red Skelton Chevy Special (8:00 p.m., CBS), an hour-long colorcast celebrating Red's 30th anniversary in show business. He's joined by Gunsmoke's James Arness, Burl Ives, Rhonda Fleming, Tommy Sands, and Lionel Hampton—and, of course, some of Red's most famous characters, including Clem Kadiddlehopper and Freddie the Freeloader. Afterwards, flip over to NBC for the premiere of The Bell Telephone Hour (9:00 p.m.), making its transition from a radio series that had started in 1940. Tonight's opener is headlined by musical-comedy stars Alfred Drake and Sally Ann Howes, the Kingston Trio, violinist Zino Francescatti, the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, Red Nichols and His Five Pennies jazz combo, and siner Connie Boswell. The Telephone Hour remains a mainstay on TV until 1968.

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Finally, since we've spent a fair amount of time writing about Warner Bros. this week, it seems appropriate that we wrap things up with Adele Mara: WB contract actress, wife of WB producer Roy Huggins—and barber. "It's true," she says gleefully. "I cut Roy's hair, and I like it." Adele started out as a dancer with Xavier Cugat's band, before signing her fierst movie contract in the 1940s. She starred in 30 movies for Republic, and set a studio record by posing for 4,000 publicity photos, for all of which she wore only a bathing suit (see right). She and Huggins have been married for six years; they'll remain married until his death in 2002. While Huggins was producing Maverick, he fielded a complaint from a viewer about "a half-dressed woman I saw dancing on the bar." Replied Huggins, "That was no half-dressed woman. That was my wife." TV  

Around the dial

We'll begin this week's review at bare•bones e-zine, where Jack's Hitchcock Project looks at the second season story "Kill by Kindness" by A.J. Russell, based on a teleplay he'd previously written for The Clock (not uncommon in the early years of TV), and starring Hume Cronyn, Carmen Matthews, and James Gleason. As frequently happens, the ending is both surprising and satisfying.

John's examination of the television works of British actor Denis Shaw continues at Cult TV Blog, and this week we see Shaw's performance in an American television series, The Vise, and the episode "The Very Silent Traveler." As John mentions, there are a couple of different versions of The Vise, one that includes detective Mark Saber, but this isn't one of those episodes, even though it does contain crime and punishment.

A pair of interesting observations from Travalanche; the first is a brief look at William S. Paley and the birth of CBS. Paley, of course, is one of the major figures in the history of television; even though he didn't appear in front of the camera, he had a lot to do with who did. Next, it's 70 years of The Tonight Show, and you can certainly see how that institution has changed over the years. 

Likewise, TV Obscurities entertains with a couple of interesting bits on the 1969 series The New People, one of television's rare attempts at a 45-minute series. The first is a five-page proposal for the series, with some significant changes from the finished product; the secnd is a promotional spot designed to explain the premise to viewers.

It's another week of obituaries at A Shroud of Thoughts; first, observations on the death of Kris Kristofferson at 88. Although he was primarily a singer, he was also a very effective actor, with several television credits to his name. Then, it's John Amos, who actually died in August; his death wasn't made public until earlier this week. He was 84, with an impressive pedigree, including Roots, Good Times, and The Mary Tyler Moore Show. 

Television's New Frontier: The 1960s covers 1962 and the end of the third season and start of the fourth season of The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis, The quality is erratic, but you'll always enjoy Dwayne Hickman and Bob Denver, and how can you completely hate a series that gave us Tuesday Weld and includes a couple of apperances by Yvonne Craig?

At The Hits Just Keep On Comin', jb passes final judgment on Barnaby Jones, the detective series starring Buddy Ebsen. The quality of the show came and went, but I know of many, many people who have very fond memories of it; as jb says, "It's not good, exactly, but the rhythms and tropes of 70s TV are comfort food, and in a world such as this one, we need that." Amen to all that.

Paul returns to the world of the TV-movie at Drunk TV with the 1972 thriller The Norliss Tapes, which bore more than a passing resemblance to The Night Stalker—well, it was made by Dan Curtis. The good news: there's Angie Dickinson, although she's wasted. The bad news: there's also Roy Thinnes, who happens to be the star. The worst news: unlike The Night Stalker, there's no real sense of humor. And that's no laughing matter. TV  

The politics of commercials

If you're like me, you've spent the last couple of months watching television with the remote close by your side, all the better to mute those interminable political commercials polluting the airwaves. It's not just that they're negative and ham-fisted; they lack style, panache, whatever that je ne sais quoi is that makes a moment memorable. . .

(Pauses to mute television.) 

Sorry about that; I can't even get away from them long enough to write this. Of course, if we're being honest, most commercials are like that nowadays. But, like other forms of advertising, it wasn't always this way. If political commercials weren't necessarily memorable, they were at least watchable, even to people who don't agree with the candidate in question. A few years ago I did a more extensive rundown of such commercials, but I thought I'd look back at some of my favorites, the ones that I admire for the way they were done. Whether or not I go along with them, or support the candidate, is not the point. In fact, I hope you'll appreciate that I'm not trying to be political here at all. . .

(Pauses to mute television, more angrily this time.) 

Now, where was I? Oh yes—watchable political commercials. As I said, this is a non-partisan issue, so much so that I'm not insuring both parties are represented equally. In fact, let's start off with one of the most innocuous commercials of all, a 1960 ad for John F. Kennedy. It's upbeat, just like the candidate.

Kennedy's successor, Lyndon B. Johnson, ran this ad in 1964. It's not so upbeat; in fact, it's perhaps one of the most devastating commercials of any kind ever shown. As far as being influential, it's right up there with the "1984" commercial by Apple, and like that one, it was only shown once. It is, of course, the "Daisy" commercial.

Richard Nixon's commercials in 1968 utilized voiceovers from his 1968 convention speech combined with an artful montage of images designed to drive home the point. They conclude with a brilliant slogan, "This time vote like your whole world depended on it." It not only conveys the importance of the election, it's a subtle reminder of 1960—and a chance to make amends.

Jimmy Carter (who celebrated his 100th birthday yesterday; happy birthday, Mr. President!) was a virtual unknown prior to his 1976 campaign, even stumping the panel as the Mystery Guest on What's My Line? It was important for him not only to build name recognition, but to convince voters that his Democratic party wouldn't be like George McGovern's, and his leadership wouldn't be like Gerald Ford's.

 

The 1984 reelection campaign of Ronald Reagan had two of the most famous—and most effective—commercials: "The Bear in the Woods" and "Morning in America." Both present a convincing case for reelecting the man who'd brought America back, and kept America safe.

I'll end with what may be—no, why pussyfoot around—what is my favorite political commercial of all time. It's from the Israeli elections of a few years ago, featuring PM Benjamin Netanyahu.

Now this is a commercial. It doesn't matter what you think of Bibi Netanyahu or his politics. It's original, it humanizes him, it has the potential to make undecided voters smile. Why in the world American candidates don't try something like this I'll never know.

(Pauses to mute television, very irritated.) 

One of the most annoying things about today's political commercials is that so many of them are sponsored by third-party special interest groups, and almost all of those are negative ads, attacking one of the candidates without ever mentioning the name of the other candidate. (As an example, even though we live in Indiana, we get ads for the U.S. Senate race in Ohio, in which Sherrod Brown is the incumbent. Based on these commercials, I still have no idea who Brown's opponent is; I actually had to look it up.) Even when you do get a commercial from one of the candidates, it's almost always a negative ad. Of course, we know why negative ads are run: it's because polls indicate they work. And that's on us.

As politics becomes ever more virtual and politicians ever more remote, it would behoove candidates today to create commercials that try to connect with voters in a human way. Of course, with politics also becoming ever more polarized, the odds of that may be somewhat remote. Which leaves our campaigns nasty and brutish, but, unfortunately, not short enough.

(Starts to mute television, then decides "The hell with it" and turns it off.)  TV  

What's on TV? Tuesday, September 26, 1967

Back on September 10, ABC preempted its entire Sunday prime-time lineup for Africa, a four-hour documentary that combined a look at the many new countries born from the end of colonialism with segments on African history and culture, featuring music by Alex North and performances from Miriam Makeba. The documentary was not only a critical success, going on to win a Peabody award, it was also a surprise ratings success, with "at least a look-in from close to 50 percent of the TV audience." At the time, the network announced an innovative plan to repeat the program in four one-hour segments, shown on four consecutive Tuesdays as part of its daytime schedule, for housewives and others who might not have been able to see the entire special when it was originally shown; today at 9:30 a.m. we see the second of the four parts. This is one of the few attempts I can recall to air serious programming during daytime (I'm assuming we all agree that The View doesn't fall into that category), and a rare example of an encore broadcast scheduled to take advantage of the publicity generated from the original airing. This and more comes from the Northern California edition.