December 2, 2024

What's on TV? Saturday, December 3, 1966




If I'm not mistaken, the Jim Lange hosting Oh, My Word at 10:30 p.m. on KGO is the same Jim Lange that we know and love from The Dating Game. One of his guests, Red Fay, was a confidant of former President Kennedy, and authored the book The Pleasure of His Company, a memoir of his friendship with JFK. There were a lot of books written by former JFK staffers in the years after his death, and many of them were best-sellers; the Kennedy memory was still very strong three years after his death. This week's shows are from the Northern California edition.

November 30, 2024

This week in TV Guide: December 3, 1966




Things should be all smiles on the set of ABC's new war drama The Rat Patrol. It's the biggest new hit of the season, the only new show in the top 20. And yet, as Dick Hobson reports in this week's cover story, almost everyone involved in the original production has been fired, thge actors are "near insurrection," and the series is leaking money at a rate that is beyond alarming. Is this the way all new series start out? Not on your life.

The show's troubles started at once. Producer-Creator Tom Gries, shooting the pilot in Yuma, Arizona (a stand-in for the show's desert setting) had to deal with 118-degree temperatures, jeeps that were constantly breaking down, a scheduled disrupted by star Christopher George's movie commitments, and a price tag that ran $200,000. Gries was sacked, although as creator he still gets a fat check every week. Mirisch-Rich Productions, already having to deal with a feature film, Hawaii, that was $7 million over budget, balked at the cost of shooting the series in Spain (where equipment from Battle of the Bulge and The Great Escape was available), and pushed ahead only after ABC threatened to sue. The new producer, Stan Shpetner, pushed for a "hipper" show, filled with "pungent dialog. . . action, excitement, guts; he wanted the screen to jump." His motto: Audacious, Gassy and Cool. The cast hated Shpetner's scripts, particularly the dialog, while the directors hated the visual effects called for in those scripts, which they called "unshootable." After a showdown, Shpetner was called back to Hollywood, and eventually sacked.

The problems continued; George, as well as co-stars Lawrence Casey and Justin Tarr, were injured in various accicents. It was almost impossible to find Spanish Army Corp soliders tall enough to play Germans. Film footage was lost en ruote from Paris to Hollywood. Associate producer Dick Landau was tasked with rewriting six episodes on the spot, as well as writing two original scripts and collaborating with director John Peyser, one of Shpetner's most outspoken critics, on a three-part story. Landau strove to introduce more realism, to make The Rat Patrol more like Combat! and less like The Wild Wild West, which Shpetner had once worked on. They never viewed the footage, never did a retake, and got almost no feedback from the Front Office on what had been done other than that the footage was "great," or that they were "40 feet short." Thirteen episodes emerged from all this chaos.

On-location shooting in Spain.
Despite all this, the show was an immediate hit. Nonetheless, Lee Rich, head of Mirisch-Rich Productions, pulled the show home from Spain and decided to shoot future episodes on an MGM soundstage, with any location shooting done locally. He had little choice; the show was over budget at a rate that would put it $1 million in the hole by the end of the season, a deficit that would take three years to recap, assuming the show ran that long. Cast and crew, having come together in solidary against adversity, were distressed. Production manager Lemoine, bitter that he wasn't named producer, remained in Spain. Associate producer Landau was replaced by someone from Mirisch-Rich. Director Peyser quit to return to feature films. The new producer, Jon Epstein, came from Tarzan, another series that had run over budget. ABC, just happy that the show was a ratings success, "pooh-poohed" any programs that might have occurred. I don't know about you, but all this exhausts me; nowadays, the inevitable series based on the behind-the-scenes turmoil would be far more interesting and successful that the series itself.

When all was said and done, Shpetner maintained that his epic romanticism was faithful to Tom Gries' original concept. Meanwhile, the former associate producer, former production manager, former directors, and cast maintained that it was their "down-to-earth realism" carried forth Gries' original concept. The only person happy about it all was Tom Gries himself. After all, as Hobson concludes, "He's got what every gambler in the TV Sweepstakes has always craved: a hit show, no headaches, and all that money."

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During the 60s, the Ed Sullivan Show and The Hollywood Palace were the premiere variety shows on television. Whenever they appear in TV Guide together, we'll match them up and see who has the best lineup..

Sullivan: Scheduled guests: baritone Robert Merrill and tenor Jan Peerce of the Metropolitan Opera; comedian Red Buttons; the rock ‘n’ rolling Supremes, and Gary Lewis of the Playboys; singer Lainie Kazan; basketball’s comical Harlem Globetrotters; the Brothers Tonito, tightrope walkers; and trapeze artist Miss Mara.

Palace: Host Victor Borge presents songstress Petula Clark; the singing-dancing team of Jean Pierre Aumont and his wife Marisa Pavan; comics Marty Allen and Steve Rossi, who offer a routine about a Japanese baseball star; French ballet dancers Claire Sombert and Michel Bruel; the Flying Cavarettas, teen-age aerialists; performing elephant Baby Sabu; and escape artist Dennis Breilein. Victor sings soprano, tenor and bass in a parody of Mozart’s operas.

So what do we have this week? The only change in Ed's lineup, from what I can gather, is the substitution of comedians Wayne and Shuster (a Sullivan favorite) for the Brothers Tonito, which improves an already-good cast. In addition to a medley of their hits, the Supremes sing "My Favorite Things," and since this has become a Christmas staple, I'd say they're starting to ring in the season. Combine that with Gary Lewis's farewell appearance before going into the military, and that's a hard lineup to beat. Although the Palace has Victor Borge, whom I always enjoy, this week I'm giving the edge to Sullivan. 

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From 1963 to 1976, TV Guide's weekly reviews were written by the witty and acerbic Cleveland Amory. Whenever they appear, we'll look at Cleve's latest take on the shows of the era

This week, Cleve takes on the CBS sitcom Run, Buddy, Run, for which he says you should run, not walk, to your nearest television set to watch. It's a spoof of Fugitive-type shows, with a Coronet Blue-type premise: Buddy (Jack Sheldon), an innocuous sort, has the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and when he overhears two Syndicate types utter the words "Chicken Little," he knows that he already knows too much. The mob knows he knows, and Syndicate boss Mr. D (Bruce Gordon, in a wonderful parody of his role as Frank Nitti in The Untouchables) puts a hit out on him. And so Buddy must run, and keep running, to stay one step ahead of a fatal step.

As Amory says, you just can't igonre a setup like this, Buddy's problem, as is the case with our friendly Doctor Richard Kimble, is that he just can't keep running; he's too good-hearted to not stop and help those in need, which means he can never get too far away from those nasty hitmen. In fact, he's so good-hearted, he even attends a fake funeral for Mr. D, which is actually a trap: Mr. D, you see, knew Buddy would show up, being so good-hearted and all, and, "of course, when Buddy got there, you can guess whose funeral Mr. D really has in mind." All this works because the acting is of particularly high calibur, especially from Sheldon and Gordon, who fit their roles to a T. Sheldon, in particular, manages to make Buddy a sympathetic character you root for, which isn't always easy; other actors might tempt you to think that he had it coming, but not in this case. And while it's not always easy to spoof targets that are so obvious, this show manages to do it on a regular basis.

Which makes it unfortunate, Amory says, that CBS has decided to cancel the show. We occasionally get an Amory review of a show that's bound for cancellation, but very seldom does he actually mention the fact in his column, as he does here. The Doan Report says that the network is reconsidering the cancellation, as the ratings are inching up; perhaps Cleve is trying to give that effort a boost by encouraging people to tune in. In a season where the spoof is the everywhere (UNCLE, Batman, et al), a show like Buddy fits right in. It's just a shame that CBS couldn't find a slot into which they could fit it.

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Yes, it's that time of the year agaon, when we sample the seasonal specials the networks are providing for the enjoyment of the advertisers the viewing audience. Actually, I kid about that; Christmas commercials from this era are, I think, among our fondest memories. NoĆ«lco, anyone? 

Leading off is a big on; the third airing of "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" on the General Electric Fantasy Hour (Sunday, 5:30 p.m., NBC). "A brand new song and new adventures have been added," the ads promise; the new song is "Fame and Fortune," which replaces "We're a Couple of Misfits." As you probably have heard, Rudolph will be airing once again on NBC, for the first time since 1971.

On Wednesday, it's "Christ Is Born" (8:00 p.m., ABC), from the network's acclaimed documentary series Saga of Western Man. Filmed on location in the Holy Land, gospel readings from John Huston are intersperced with footage shot in Jerusalem and at the Sea of Gallilee, the River Jordan, and Madada. Producer John Secondari and his wife, director Helen Jean Rogers, are narrators. ABC plans to repeat the program on Christmas Day. 

Eddie Albert is the host and narrator of Tchaikovsky's classic, The Nutcracker (Friday, 7:30 p.m., CBS), featuring an international cast including Edward Villella, Patricia McBride, and Melissa Hayden. Franz Allers conducts the Budapest Philharmonic in this broadcast, first telecast last December. You can see a clip of it here; it's available on DVD as well.

There are also a couple of local broadcasts: On California U.S.A. (Sunday, 10:30 a.m., KCRA in Sacramento), the Salvation Army Band of Sacramento presents its annual Christmas program. Later that day, the Art of Puppetry (5:00 p.m., KVIE in Sacramento and KIXE in Redding) features the Sacramento State College Little Theatre marionettes in "Punch and Judy," "Alice in Wonderland," and songs of Christmas.

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What else? Well, it's a big week for movies, starting on Saturday, as Richard Harris and Rachel Roberts star in the movie This Sporting Life (11:20 p.m., KPIX in San Francisco), a gritty kitchen-sink British drama about the world of professional rugby; both Harris and Roberts earned Oscar nominations for the movie, one of my favorites. Speaking of Oscars, Saturday also sees Stalag 17 (9:00 p.m., NBC), with William Holden in his Oscar-winning role as a cynical American POW during World War II. Judith Crist, in her review, praises its blend of "human comedy and tragedy," and singles out both Holden and Otto Preminger, at his "nasty-Nazi best" as the camp commendant.

More big movies; on Sunday afternoon, KPIX is back with the magnificent Witness for the Prosecution (5:00 p.m.), Agatha Christie's supreme courtroom drama starring the Oscar-nominated Charles Laughton, Tyrone Power, Marlene Dietrich, Elsa Lanchester, and, in a small but important role, Ruta Lee. And Glenn Ford stars in The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (9:00 p.m., ABC), a remake of Valentino's 1921 silent film classic, with Ingrid Thulin, Charles Boyer, Paul Lukas, Yvette Mimieux, Paul Henreid, and Lee J. Cobb. Big cast, long running time (three hours), disappointing result; Crist pronounces that neither Ford nor anyone else "survives this clumsy, over-blown banality about cousins caught on opposite sides in World War II." As you can tell, the plot differs somewhat from the 1921 original.

Gilligan's Island goes into Twilight Zone territory on Monday (7:30 p.m., CBS), as Gilligan finds his castaway companions disappearing one by one, convincing him that he's a Jekyll and Hyde responsible for it all. Later, on The Felony Squad (9:00 p.m., ABC), the detectives investigate the owner of a pro football team (William Smithers) who framed a former star (Ed Asner) in a murder. Admit it; sports team owners are such a slimy bunch, you'd love to see one of them accused of murder, wouldn't you? And on The Tonight Show (11:30 p.m., NBC), Senator Everett Dirksen (R-Ill.) is one of Johnny's guests. He's not there just to talk politics, but to plug his latest spoken-word album, Gallent Men: Stories of the American Adventure. The following year, the title track will hit #16 on the Billboard 200.

It's William Holden again in another big-screen war epic, The Brtidges at Toko-Ri (Tuesday, 9:00 p.m., NBC), based on the Korean War best-seller by James A. Michener, with an all-star cast including Grace Kelly, Fredric March, and Mickey Rooney. Also on Tuesday, the great Marion Anderson hosts and stars in S. Hurok Presents (9:30 p.m., CBS), a musical tribute to impresario Sol Hurok, the man responsible for bringing Russia's Bolshoi Ballet to the United States in 1959; they also toured the country in 1962, during the height of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Anderson is joined in the tribute by pianist Van Cliburn, violinist Isaac Stern, guitarist AndrĆ©s Segovia, Antonio and the Ballets de Madrid, and prima ballerina Maya Plisetskaya and members of the Bolshoi.

Hallmark has Christmas cards to sell, which helps explain the presence of Hallmark Hall of Fame's "Blithe Spirit" (Wednesday, 7:30 p.m, NBC), an adaptation of Noel Coward's witty comedy, starring Dirk Bogarde, Rosemary Harris, the aforementioned Rachel Roberts, and Ruth Gordon. That's not the only big special on the network Wednesday; following "Blithe Spirit," it's Frank Sinatra: A Man and His Music—Part II (9:00 p.m.), a sequel to Sinatra's one-man show from last November; this year, he's joined by his daughter Nancy, and long-time Sinatra arranger-conductors Nelson Riddle and Gordon Jenkins. 

On Thursday, Shirley Booth stars in a CBS Playhouse adaptation of Tennessee Williams' play "The Glass Menagerie" (9:00 p.m.), with Barbara Loden, Hal Holbrook, and Pat Hingle. If you're not in the mood for Williams's downbeat drama, try Bewitched (9:00 p.m., ABC), with Fredd Wayne playing Benjamin Franklin in the first of a two-part story. Wayne, who was currently touring the country in his one-man "Benjamin Franklin, Citizen", portrayed Franklin on stage and in television shows for three decades.

A big-name cast doesn't help the big-screen movie Genghis Khan (Friday, 9:00 p.m., CBS), with Omar Sharif as the Mongol conqueror, plus Stephan Boyd, James Mason, Telly Savalas, and Robert Morley; Crist says that the commercials will prevent you from sinking "into a relaxing trance" and remind you "what a silly waste of time the whole thing is." If you want my opinion, go with The Time Tunnel for your history (8:00 p.m., ABC); all I can say is that after this episode, Tony and Doug are sure to remember the Alamo.

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Is Garry Moore's career over? Two years ago, he stepped down from the weekly grind after 14 years on morning and primetime shows, including I've Got a Secret and his eponymous variety show. His warm personality and his ability to connect with an audience had given him a weekly audience, between his two shows, of 50 million viewers. In 1964, CBS cancelled The Garry Moore Show, and shortly afterward he handed the reins of Secret over to Steve Allen. 

Back in 1964, Moore tells Robert Higgins, he thought he'd like to try something different, more serious. "I thought I'd enjoy public affairs." He got a daily show on CBS radio, but it didn't work for him. "As a newsman, I was much in demand to read scripts that were already written for me. They did my research, too. It was disillusioning." Then came a show earlier this year on ABC (after CBS had passed on it) called Garry Moore's People Poll. Moore won't even talk about that one; "I've learned," he says, "that performers don't cross the line into public affairs. You're either a Garry Moore or a Walter Cronkite." (Would that more celebrities took a cue from him.) So why not just chuck the whole thing, Higgins asks? "I'm still too young to sit around being bored," he replies. It's not money; he made a half million a year during his peak years, and his contract has eight years to go, whether or not he does anything. 

This September found Moore back with a new version of The Garry Moore Show. He wanted the show to be creative, like his old daytime show, where "The dancers danced, the singers sang and I stayed the hell out of the way." But with the new show near the bottom of the ratings (The Doan Report, in fact, reports that CBS has decided to pull the plug), he's been bringing in guest stars and special episodes. The show's on Sunday nights, up against NBC's Bonanza. Moore's philosophical about it, but hopeful: "If they take me off, who're they going to throw in to do better?" (The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, as it turned out.)

"I’m worried," he continues. "I don’t admit it to myself, but I am. Because if I bomb out, I’m in serious trouble. I won’t know what to do with myself." Moore sounds like a man struggling with a midlife TV crisis. "I’m 51, and what have I been doing? I’ve been going out there once a week and trying to get a few laughs—which is tremendously foolish for a man my age."

Moore sounds not like a bitter man, but one who wonders what he really has to show for his considerable success. "I hated being in the 'famous' business," he says. "The adulation is all out of proportion. Everything is instant service. You get to expect it because you think you've earned it—which you haven't." He didn't and still doesn't, think he's earned it. "I’ve tried desperately to keep my worth in perspective. If nothing else, I’ve tried to live realistically."

As for the future—well, who knows? "As I’ve said," Moore concludes, "this is sort of a last-ditch stand for me: But I feel a winner doesn’t admit defeat until defeat happens to him. So I'll fight. At this point in my life, I'm interested in achieving the impossible." As it turns out, the end of The Garry Moore Show isn't the end of Garry Moore; when To Tell the Truth is revived as a daily syndicated show in 1969, Moore comes on board as host, and stays with it until 1977.

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MST3K alert: The Killer Shrews (1959) Carnivorous beasts terrorize an island. James Best, Ingrid Goude. Craigis: Baruch Lumet. Baines: Gordon McLendon. Lacer: Ken Curtis. (Saturday, 1:00 a.m., KCRA) Yes, that Ken Curtis, and that James Best. Curtis makes for a cowardly villain, Best an unappealing hero, and Ingrid Goude the woman that they inexplicably fight over. Oh, and of course, killer shrews. And that's why this movie is on MST3KTV  

November 29, 2024

Around the dial




Black Friday, as you probably know, was named not for any sense of dread at the day-after-Thanksgiving shopping crush, but because it was the day that retailers would go "in the black," thanks to it being the busiest shopping day of the year. That's one story, at least. Here at It's About TV!, we don't take the day off on Black Friday; it's just another red-letter day around here! Because of the early holiday deadline there might be a few pieces that snuck in under the wire, but we'll get to them next week. In the meantime, let's see what's on tap.

At Eventually Supertrain, a certain old friend returns to talk with Dan about the WWII action drama Garrison's Gorillas; any resemblance between that friend and your humble writer is purely intentional. Hope you like the start of our discussions on this enjoyable series, which I wrote about here.

At The Twilight Zone Vortex, Jordan reviews the fifth-season episode "A Short Drink from a Certain Fountain," starring Patrick O'Neal and the wonderful Ruta Lee. If it doesn't sound familiar, Jordan has the story behind the story, which you might find more interesting than the story itself!

Another TZ episode, "Come Wander with Me," is the topic of discussion at The View from the Junkyard. I sense a slight difference of opinon between Roger and Mike on this one, so I'll let you draw your own conclusions. If it's any clue, it's also from the fifth and final season.

One of my favorite blogs, RealWeegieMidget, celebrates its ninth anniversary, and Gill shares her top three posts of the year. You'll want to check them out, and make this a part of your regular rotation. 

At Cult TV Blog, John's survey of British character actress Ann Way continues with her appearance in Sergeant Cork, the mid-60s police procedural. "The Case of the Bristol Mail" features Way in a typical role, relatively minor yet memorable. See what you think.

You may or may not know this, but Harpo Marx had a pretty successful solo career on television between 1952 and 1962. At Travalanche, Trav talks about some of his great appearances over the years—from Lucille Ball to Carol Burnett.

As Earl Holliman died this week, it's particularly appropriate that Television's New Frontier: The 1960s looks back at one of his starring roles from the 60s, Wide Country, which aired in the 1962-63 season as one of two rodeo-themed series that season, the other being Stoney Burke. It's worth checking out.

At The Classic TV History Blog, Stephen uses the occasion of TV writer Jeri Taylor's death last month to review her career, and that of her writing partner and husband, David Moessinger. Learn more about Jeri and David, separately and together, and the many memorable shows they worked on.

And with Thanksgiving behind us, Christmas is now just around the corner: at Remind, Herbie Pilato looks back at some of TV's most memorable Christmas variety shows. If you, like me, grew up with these shows (and still watch them!), you'll enjoy this article immensely! TV  

November 27, 2024

The Jimmy Dean Show, Thanksgiving, 1964




I mentioned on Monday that there'd be something extra from this week's TV Guide, and here it is: the Thanksgiving night episode of The Jimmy Dean Show as seen on Thursday, November 26 at 9:00 p.m. CT. Jimmy's guests are comedian Norm Crosby, singer Johnny Cash, pianist Floyd Cramer and singer Molly Bee. (Plus his Muppet sidekick, Rowlf; you'll see him as well.)

Jimmy's variety show was always entertaining; although he was primarily a Country singer with strong crossover appeal, he had guests from accross the entertainment spectrum, all of which he seemed to know personally. As a host, he projected a warmth and genuine likeability that viewers picked up on, something especially appropriate on a holiday like Thanksgiving. All in all, I can't think of a better way to wind down from a big meal on a big day than to spend an hour with Jimmy and the gang.


It's always nice to find and share the shows you run across in TV Guide, and holiday episodes are doubly enjoyable. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it sometime in the next couple of days. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! TV  

Book Review: Men of Action, by Ed Robertson




When last we saw Ed Robertson, he had just co-authored the mammoth—and definitive—book on The FBI television series, The FBI Dossier. (You can read my review here.) 

Ed is now back with his latest book, and as before, it is one that pushes all the buttons for classic television fans who like some substance along with their nostalgia. Men of Action: Behind-the-Scenes of Four Classic Television Series gives us a look at four series that define what it means to be a "man of action" on television: The Magician, The Untouchables, Harry-O, and Run For Your Life. All four were, to one extent or another, popular in their day—a popularity that wasn't always reflected in the ratings, but gave them a loyal and devoted following that remains to this day. There's no question that each of the four leads personifies the definition of a "man of action," and if such men are less common on television today than they were back then, perhaps this will remind readers of what they're missing. 

Men of Action: Behind-the-Scenes of Four Classic Television Series


by Ed Robertson

Cutting Edge Books, 265 pages, $18.99

My rating: ★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Robertson's choice of these four series is welcome in that only one of the four, The Untouchables (1959-63), has received any kind of significant treatment over the years. It was the longest-running of the four, and is probably the most familiar to modern-day aficionados: the story of Eliot Ness (Robert Stack) and his team of incorruptable federal agents, fighting organized crime in the Capone era. It was controversial in its day, not only for its copious servings of violence each week (the mob wasn't particularly known for handling things in a sensitive manner), but for its association of Italian-Americans with La Cosa Nostra, which supposedly enraged Frank Sinatra so much that he threatened Executive Producer Desi Arnaz.

Harry O (1973-76, which I wrote about here) is a classic case of a series done wrong by the network; David Janssen, in his most compelling role since The Fugitive, plays a most unlikely man of action—a private detective and former policeman forced to resign from the force after suffering a debilitating bullet wound to the spine. He's world-weary, with a bad back and a grumpy disposition, but while elements of his character are a standard in the P.I. business, Janssen's voiceover narration imparts them with a poetic, almost existential, quality. Over the two years of the series the location would shift from San Diego to Los Angeles, Harry's frenemy on the police department changes from Henry Darrow to Anthony Zerbe, Harry acquires a girlfriend played by Farrah Fawcett-Majors, and the physical action ramps up. Despite the changes, the series remains a singular example of literate detective fiction on TV.

Run For Your Life (1965-68), stars Ben Gazzara as Paul Bryan, an attorney who discovers he has an unspecified, but terminal, illness that leaves him, at most, two years to live. Determined to live life to the fullest—to "squeeze 30 years of living into one year, or two"—he embarks on a series of adventures taking him around the world, plunging him into the lives of those he meets along the way, and involving him in various situations that promise danger and demand action. Run For Your Life is the only one of the four series not to have received a commercial DVD release, althouth it's appeared on various cable channels over the years, and can be found in gray market DVE versions. Although it's fondly remembered by those who saw it initially, it deserves a bigger, and younger, audience; hopefully, Men of Action will help serve that purpose. 

The most interesting selection in Men of Action might be The Magician (1973-74) which gives us another unconventional crimesolver, a professional magician named Tony Blake (Bill Bixby). Blake had, in the past, spent time in a foreign prison on a trumped-up charge, leaving him with an intense sense of justice. Independently wealthy, he uses his skills as a magician to play an active role in helping out those in need, and seeing the gulty punished. As was the case with Harry O, there were cast and format changes, but Bixby's portrayal of Blake is a compelling one, and its release on DVD, as well as its appearance on cable, helps keep its audience 

Robertson's writing is clear and concise, neither skimping nor overwhelming the reader with details. He clearly knows his stuff, and he writes with an obvious fondness for each series that never crosses the line into amateurish fanboy obsequiousness. In addition to giving readers a look at the premise, development, and evolution of each series, he provides complete episode guides, including one-line synopses that tell you what to expect without giving the whole episode away; with its list of guest stars, it should prove especially helpful for those watching each series. 

Best of all, perhaps, is a treasure trove of interviews that Robertson has conducted over the years, with stars and guest stars, writers, directors, and others involved in the production of each series. Fans of these shows will find much to enhance their knowledge, while those just approaching them will find themselves drawn into their compelling stories. It's a fun, easy, entertaining read.

I've said in the past that next to watching classic television, there's nothing better than reading about it. with Men of Action, Ed Robertson has given us another treat for the bookshelf, and—hopefully—for our DVD collections.

By the way, be sure to come back later today for that special Thanksgiving bonus I mentioned on Saturday!  TV  

November 25, 2024

What's on TV? Thursday, November 26, 1964




As you probably know, it's a tradition here to look at the Thanksgiving Day listings on Thanksgiving week, and this week's listings come from the Wisconsin State Edition. All three networks preempted substantial parts of their daytime schedules for parades and football, but if you need something to keep you awake after all the foot, you might want to stick around for NBC's Kraft Suspense Theatre and "Graffiti," a WWII thriller about a French resistance leader (Louis Jourdan) targeted for assassination by his countrymen to prevent the Nazis from interrogating him. And if that isn't enough, stick around on Wednesday, and I might have another treat for you from this issue!

November 23, 2024

This week in TV Guide: November 21, 1964




Sunday is the first anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, and television remembers with a number of somber tributes that lend a grim backdrop to the beginning of the holiday week. 

The day begins with the CBS special Four Dark Days (10:30 a.m. CT), an hour-long retrospective of the events one year ago, including the assassination, the murder of Lee Harvey Oswald, and the President's lying in state and funeral. It's not to be confused with "The Four Dark Days," a much longer recap that the network aired on the evening of November 25, 1963; however, it's safe to assume that everything airing on the Sunday morning special can be found in this much longer broadcast. 

At 1:00 p.m., NBC follows with John F. Kennedy Remembered, which takes a unique approach to the subject; rather than simply following CBS's lead, this program uses films of his funeral as a background for a review of Kennedy's presidency. "The cortege will not be shown, but cameras will follow the cortege route and will pause along the way at various points where NBC correspondents will recall, in their own words and through the use of appropriate films, the high points of his career as President." The link above is to part one of the four parts on YouTube; you'll be able to find the other three from that.

ABC's special, "John F. Kennedy: His Two Worlds" (5:30 p.m.), focuses on Kennedy's private as well as public life. In addition to films of Kennedy and his family in leisure hours, the special incudes interviews with those who played a role in Kennedy's life, from his seventh-grade teacher, Mrs. Irene Guiney, to Supreme Court Justice Arthur Goldberg. 

In addition to these specials, several regular programs offer tributes to the late president: Directions '65 (1:00 p.m., ABC) looks at the effect of Kennedy's leadership on people throughout the world in "A Figure of the Possible." NBC's Sunday (3:00 p.m.), hosted by Today newscaster Frank Blair, devotes the entire hour to a Kennedy tribute. And on The Ed Sullivan Show, Pat O'Brien recites "What Is A Little Girl?" dedicated to Caroline Kennedy, Victor Borge recites a tribute to JFK while pianist Leonid Hambro plays an overture by Strauss, and a group of Irish boy singers from County Wexford, Kennedy's ancestral home, perform one of his favorite songs, "The Boys of Wexford.

And on Monday afternoon, NET offers perhaps the week's most thoughtful tribute, An Essay on Death (2:00 p.m., WMVS in Milwaukee), a "reflection on the meaning of life and death" including films and a narrative of readings from poets and philosophers, including Albert Camus, John Donne, Robinson Jeffers, Plato, and Shakespeare. There were also national and local programs offered in the preceeding week, including another CBS tribute.

One year after Kennedy's death, it would have been impossible to disassociate Thanksgiving from the assassination; November 22 was less than a week before Thanksgiving in 1963, and while the Macy's parade went on as scheduled, many of the floats bore bands of black mourning crepe. It's likely, I'd think, that the holiday season in 1964 was not nearly as somber as it was in 1963; after all, life goes on, and Lyndon Johnson had been elected president in a landslide earlier in November. 

Nonetheless, Fall is an evocative time, and the memory of those days certainly must have hung over the tranquility of these.

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During the 60s, the Ed Sullivan Show and The Hollywood Palace were the premiere variety shows on television. Whenever they appear in TV Guide together, we'll match them up and see who has the best lineup..

Sullivan: Ed's guests include Victor Borge, singers Tony Bennett and Leslie Uggams, actor Pat O'Brien, the folk singing Women-folk and the clowning Cairoli and Company. A group of Irish boy singers from County Wexfort, John F. Kennedy's ancestral home, pay tribute to the late President by singing two of his favorite songs: "The Boys of Wexford" and "Kelly, the Boy from Killane."

Palace: Host Arthur Godfrey welcomes comedian Shelley Berman, singer Dorothy Collins, Dwight Moore and His Mongrels, singer John Gary, the comedy team of Gaylord and Holliday, and the Dalrays, mimes. 

The informal tribute to President Kennedy offered on Sullivan isn't something that Palace could be expected to match; setting that aside, Tony Bennett and Leslie Uggams provide star power, and pianist Leonid Hambro, mentioned in the lede, was a regular foil for Victor Borge. As for Palace, a lot of its appeal is going to depend on how you feel about Arthur Godfrey. John Gary and Dorothy Collins are tops, and Shelley Berman is almost always funny. If you include the JFK tribute, then it's almost impossible to vote against Sullivan; without it, I think this week is a Push.

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From 1963 to 1976, TV Guide's weekly reviews were written by the witty and acerbic Cleveland Amory. Whenever they appear, we'll look at Cleve's latest take on the shows of the era

We've often discussed "wheel" series, ones which consist of three or four different shows that appear on alternate weeks; think of the NBC Mystery Movie, for example. But this week Cleveland Amory looks at a wheel of a different shape, NBC's 90 Bristol Court, which isn't three-shows-in-one as much as it is one-show-in-three. It is, in essence, a 90-minute program consisting of three separate sitcoms—Karen, Harris Against the World, and Tom, Dick and Mary—all set in a Southern California apartment complex called, appropriately, 90 Bristol Court. None of the shows interact with each other, but they're all loosely connected through the presence of the complex's handyman, whose presence is confined mostly to making asides to the viewers. What all this really accomplishes is the opportunity for Cleve to take on three shows at once, and that's very bad news for at least two of them.

The best of the three, Harris Against the World, stars Jack Klugman, and while he "has always been good, and sometimes wonderful," the show itself is praiseworthy in that it "can be very funny." Mrs. Harris, played by Patricia Berry, is fine, and the supporting cast includes Hope Holiday, Elliott Reid, Hans Conried, and Joyce Jameson, all of whom provide fine foils for Harris. It is, says Amory, the only one of the three that can be recommended "with real confidence." As for the other two, the night begins with Karen, starring Debbie Watson as the title character, and Amory's conclusion is that "In none of the episodes we've seen has there been a single redeeming feature, ecept the song about Karen at the beginning [performed by the Beach Boys], and even that is reminiscent of a number of other shows." And the 90 minutes wrap up with Tom, Dick and Mary, with Don Galloway, Steve Franken and Joyce Bulifant, and without going into details, the show does, at least, "have the temerity to make fun of the medical profession." There are also some good nonsticky slapstick moments. Faint praise, indeed.

None of the shows, Amory says are terrible by themselves, but taken as a whole, "the plain fact is that running three none-too-original and all-too-similar half-hours into one hour-and-a-half total not only doesn't make a good three-act comedy, it doesn't even let you fully appreciate the occasional half hour that is good." That half hour, of course, is Harris. Based on the above, you can rightly assume that 90 Bristol Court, as a concept, doesn't last the season. One of the segments does manage to survive on its own; however, and sadly for Cleve, that one is Karen, which survives until April; the other two, as well as the concept itself, is foreclosed in January. 

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Thanksgiving issues, along with those from Christmas, are unquestionably my favorites. It was always a time of great anticipation, to get the TV Guide and see the listings for the parades, the football games, the specials, and anything else that might be on. Thanksgiving, 1964, is no exception, and once again it doesn't let us down.

Things get started early; on The Today Show (7:00 a.m., NBC), Hugh Downs airs interviews taped last week in Europe, in which he reports on how American GIs will be spending Thanksgiving Day. On Captain Kangaroo (8:00 a.m., CBS), the Captain talks about the Pilgrims, and Mr. Green Jeans reads "The Doubtful Pumpkin Seed." They'll be sticking around after the show to anchor CBS's coverage of four Thanksgiving Day parades, with Bud Collyer and Carolyn Mignini, Miss Teenage America 1965, covering the Macy's Parade in New York; Allen Ludden and Shari Lewis reporting on the Gimbels Parade in Philadelphia; Arthur Godfrey and Bess Myerson doing the honors at the J.L. Hudson Parade in Detroit; and Canadian-born Art Linkletter hosting taped coverage of Eaton's Santa Claus Parade. Coverage runs until 11:00 a.m., leading up to football. I always enjoyed the CBS parade coverage; I'd sit there watching the parade and looking through the toy catalogs from Sears and Penneys. Ah, a child's life.

At NBC, Lorne Greene and Betty White host the Macy's Parade, including exclusive coverage of the entertainment staged at Herald Square. The balloons have always been the featured attraction, and this year Bullwinkle, Elsie the Cow, Popeye, Donald Duck, and Dino the Dinosaur are joined by Linus the Lionhearted; the Rockettes, Fred Gwynne and Al Lewis from The Munsters, Bil Baird, Soupy Sales, and Fess Parker are also part of the fun. Interesting note: NBC's coverage runs 90 minutes, far preferable to the bloated and commercial-laden three hours that we now get.

I mentioned football earlier, and the games kick off with the traditional NFL Thanksgiving Day tilt in Detroit. There's a new twist this year, though: after 13 years, the Lions will no longer be playing host to the Green Bay Packers; from now on, they'll face a different opponent each year. This year the Lions take on the defending champion Chicago Bears (11:00 a.m., CBS); the Bears come out on top, 27-24. NBC offers collage football at 1:30 p.m., with one of the South's great rivalries, the Iron Bowl, pitting Auburn vs. Alabama from the neutral site of Birmingham. Alabama takes the prize, 21-14, en route to the mythical national championship. The day's fun wraps up with the AFL contest between the Buffalo Bills and San Diego Chargers in San Diego (2:30 p.m, ABC); in a preview of this year's AFL championship game, the Bills come out on top, 27-24. (They'll win the title game next month as well.)

A couple of entertainment specials round out the day; first, Dean Martin, Eydie Gorme, and Al Hirt unite for Your All-Time Favorite Songs (6:30 p.m., NBC), chosen by a Reader's Digest poll. The choral director for the hour is Dick Williams, one of the famous Williams Brothers, the most famous of which being Andy; Oscar nominee Jerry Fielding serves as musical director. You can see a clip of it here. And singer Jo Stafford welcomes actor Kenneth More and song-and-dance man Roy Castle to her hour-long special. (7:00 p.m., WISN in Milwaukee) It's a day and night of entertainment that the whole family can enjoy.

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In industry news, Los Angeles DJ Bob Crane, who plays the next-door neighbor on The Donna Reed Show, will be leaving the series after this season, possibly for one of his own. It's true: the series is Hogan's Heroes. There's also talk that Milton Berle is working with Danny Thomas to return to television with a half-hour series: one that isn't Jackpot Bowling. That never materializes, but following a number of successful guest spots, Berle does come back with The Milton Berle Show in 1966, but it's a brief one. Peter Jennings has become the second Canadian correspondent to be added to ABC News, joining Baden Langton, with whom Jennings anchored the CTV National News. Langton returns to Canada in 1967, two years after Jennings takes over ABC's evening news. And that NBC special about John F. Kennedy that I mentioned in the lede—more than 24 countries have signed up to air it.

Meanwhile, NBC plans a new musical show for January in the event of a vacancy in the schedule. The series is Hullaballoo [sic], and it debuts on Tuesdays when The Man from U.N.C.L.E. moves to Mondays. Another series scheduled to debut in January is Branded, a new Western starring Chuck Connors, which will take the place of NBC's The Bill Dana Show, the first cancelled series of the season. Branded will be unique in that it's the only half-hour Western on network television. 

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How about just a little more football? It's possible that nothing, save perhaps politics, has been changed by television more than sports. And the sport that has benefitted the most from television is, without doubt, football. In January, CBS paid the National Football League the princely sum of $28,200,000 for the right to televise games for the next two seasons.* For that kind of money, the network figures they have the right to call the shots, and William C. MacPhail, CBS's vice president in charge of sports, is the man to do it. He is, as the cover states, "Pro Football's New Boss."

*This in answer to NBC's five-year, $36 million contract with the American Football League, scheduled to start in 1965.

The network has some interesting innovations in mind. In the past, CBS assigned a play-by-play announcer and color commentator to work with each team. "You should feel you're almost with the club first, and with CBS second," they had been told. In a game between Chicago and New York, for example, viewers that generally get Chicago's games would hear the Chicago announcing crew, while those in the New York market would here that team's crew. Now, however, CBS wants the two play-by-play announcers to work together, alternating each quarter, while the color commentators would report from the sidelines. The network thought this was a great idea, a chance to capture what MacPhail called the "inside scoop." 

The announcers, on the other hand, didn't like it much; it broke up a team that was used to working together—a team that viewers, in many cases, liked—and the value of the information they picked up on the sidelines was questionable. Besides, if they happened to be in the vicinity of the losing coach, they might pick up some colorful language in the process. Neither did many coaches, a noticeably circumspect group. However, when it was explained that each team was making roughly $1 million a year from the TV contract, the coaches' objections were overcome. The system was quickly put to the test when the cameras cut unexpectedly to sideline reporter Pat Summerall, who ad-libbed with some pertinent information he'd been given by the New York Giands head coach. Summerall neglected to mention that the coach had given him this information several days earlier, during a production meeting. (In fairness, Summerall never claimed it was something he'd just been told.) The network said it was merely poetic license. 

Then there was the idea that the sideline reporter would speak with the game officials turing time outs to get their explanations on various calls they'd made. Mark Duncan, the league's supervisor of officials, thought that was a terrible idea, and said so in so many words. Until, that is, CBS expressed its disappointment. Duncan agreed to ask the head officials at each game to make themselves available to reporters. Finally, the league wanted the scoreboard clock to show the "official" game time; presently, the official time is kept by one of the officials on the field, and the scoreboard clock only indicates the "unofficial" time. CBS pointed out, quite reasonably, that being able to show the official time in the last moments of the game would add to the drama and suspense. The league said they'd see what they could do.

A lot has happened since this article was written. Sideline reporters are a staple of modern television coverage, although coaches still don't like talking to them and the information they impart is frequently trivial. The referees don't talk to the sideline reporters, but every network has its own in-house rules expert, a former official, to try and explain what the officials are doing. The scoreboard clock is now official, and has been for many years, but it's not used on broadcasts; instead, the networks' graphics are now synchronized to the game clock, and shown continuously on the screen.

One other thing has changed as well: there are more commercials, and more commercial interruptions, than ever. Cash, after all, speaks louder than words.

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MST3K alert: Attack of the Giant Leeches
(1959) Milwaukee TV Debut. A Florida game warden investigates mysterious deaths in the Everglades. Ken Clark, Yvette Vickers, Jan Shepherd, Michael Emmet, Tyler McVey, Bruno Ve Sota, Gene Roth. (Friday, 11:30 p.m., WISN in Milwaukee) This time, it isn't just the movie that sucks! We've got a hero who's a jerk, a sheriff who's an idiot, a cheap hussey, a fat guy, and monsters that suck the lifeblood out of their victims. I ask you, what more could anyone look for in a movie? TV  

November 22, 2024

Around the dial




Now, this is how Thanksgiving dinner ought to be served! Not that we do it this way in our home, of course. We need all the table room we can get for the different dishes. However, it's nice to know that when dinner is over, the football will still be there for us.

On to business, starting at Comfort TV, where David has a review of Ed Robertson's new book, Men of Action, which goes behind the scenes of four classic shows that featured, well, men of action: The Untouchables, The Magician, Run for Your Life, and Harry O. I'll be having a look at this book myself in two weeks, so stay tuned.

At Cult TV Blog, John is back with the start of another series of posts focusing on the work of an individual action. This time, it's character actress Ann Way, and the episode is "Don't Forget the Driver," from the late 1970s British sitcom Mind Your Language. 

When I'm in the mood to watch something that's not too heavy, film noir is generally my first choice, so I'm grateful to Jo at The Last Drive In for giving me some great suggestions in The Unseen Side of Film Noir–Part 1. I wonder what Part 2's going to be like?

Let's keep with the noir them, as Maddy at Classic Film and TV Corner reviews one of the seminal noir classics, Murder, My Sweet, the 1944 adapatation of Raymond Chandler's Farewell, My Lovely, with Dick Powell recreating his career in what I consider the definitive portrayal of Philip Marlowe.

At A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence flashes back to the 1966 police series Hawk, which starred Burt Reynolds as a full-blooded Iroquis working as a special investigator for the District Attorney. It was shot on location in New York, and probably deserves more attention than it gets.

Although "The Brain Center at Whipple's" may not be among the best Twilight Zone episodes, there are, as Mike and Roger (and the comments section) at The View from the Junkyard point out, some serious issues raised about automation, modernization, and the future, and they aren't pretty.

And at Travalanche, Trav looks at yet another of the major figures of broadcasting's past who's unjustly forgotten today: Jack Lescoulie, who served as an announcer, second banana, pitchman, and co-host of The Today Show from 1952 to 1967. TV  

November 20, 2024

When good comes from evil




Life, as I have remarked more than once, is at heart a human drama. And not just any drama, but one shrouded in mystery. Oftentimes, it seems as if the act of living provides us with more questions than answers, which is rarely satisfying to anyone; it is frequently that lack of answers that causes some people to conclude that there is no meaning to life at all, that it’s simply a matter of random chance that determines what happens to us. Why, we ask, do bad things happen to good people while good things happen to bad people? Why does God allow evil to exist in the world? It's a question that's shattered the faith of more than one person over the millennia, and continues to do so to this day—perhaps especially in this day.

Sometimes we find explanations to these kinds of questions difficult to come by, and often it's easier (and more effective) to illustrate a point than it is to explain it. Likewise, those illustrations will often come from unusual places; in this case, the classic Doctor Who episode "Genesis of the Daleks," which first aired in March, 1975. It is a brilliant science fiction story that deals, as sci-fi often does, with big issues thinly disguised in different wrappers. With "Genesis of the Daleks," we find as near as possible a perfect demonstration of the Christian explanation regarding the existence of evil, and what, in fact, it's good for.

"Genesis of the Daleks" begins with the Doctor (Tom Baker) being intercepted by a fellow Time Lord, who intends for the Doctor and his companions to take on a secret mission. As usual, the Doctor resents this interference by the Time Lords in his life, but his interest is piqued when he's told the subject of the mission: Daleks.

In short, the Time Lords plan to transport the Doctor, Sara Jane (Elisabeth Sladen) and Harry (Ian Marter) back to the planet Skaro at a time just before the creation of the Daleks. Once there, the Doctor's assignment is to prevent the Daleks from achieving their eventual domination and enslavement of the universe. To do this, he has three options: stop the creation of the Daleks before it can be completed; slow down their development if it cannot be stopped; or at the very least, determine what their weaknesses are, so that they can be better defended against.

As the story proceeds, the Doctor is left with a single choice: he can destroy the Dalek incubation room where the mutated creatures are being prepared for installation in their pepper-pot containers. Working quickly, he wires the room with explosives. And then arrives the moment we’ve waited for from the beginning of the story. The Doctor holds in his hands two wires: touch them together and the explosion will destroy the incubation room, destroying forever the Daleks and their reign of terror and death. And yet the Doctor hesitates.

“What are you waiting for?” Sarah Jane asks him. “You can’t doubt it.”

“Well, I do,” the Doctor replies. “You see, some things could be better with the Daleks. Many future worlds will become allies just because of their fear of the Daleks.” To Sarah Jane’s objection that this isn't how things work, the Doctor points out that the responsibility for this act rests on his shouldershis soul, really, although he doesn't use that wordand no one else’s; he then poses a question of his own. “Listen, if someone who knew the future pointed out a child to you and told you that that child would grow up totally evil, to be a ruthless dictator who would destroy millions of lives, could you then kill that child?”* It’s true that, as the Doctor says, “Hundreds of millions of people, thousands of generations can live without fear, in peace, and never even know the word Dalek” if he simply touches the two wires together, and yet – does he have the right? It’s not like killing a bacteria, wiping out a disease; this is an intelligent life form. If the Doctor does it, he becomes a perpetrator of genocide, no different from the Daleks themselves.

*That is, of course, the same argument made by Ezra Lieberman, Ira Levin’s Nazi hunter in his novel The Boys from Brazil. Kill all the Hitler clones Mengele has created—all of whom happen to be young boys, by the way—and you’ll prevent one of them from growing up to become another Hitler. Lieberman, like the Doctor, is unable to do it, and for the same reasons.

Ultimately, the decision is taken out of the Doctor's hands, through yet another plot twist. As the story ends, one of the Daleks inadvertently sets off the explosion. Although the room has been destroyed, Daleks outside the room continue to live, and the best the Doctor can hope is that they've bought some additional time to prepare for them—perhaps a thousand years or so. The Doctor and his companions manage to escape Skaro with their lives, which under the circumstances may be the best they could hope for. And yet there’s no doubt they’ve failed in the mission on which the Time Lords sent them, to prevent the genesis of the Daleks.

Or have they? “Failed?” the Doctor asks. “No, not really. You see, I know that although the Daleks will create havoc and destruction for millions of years, I know also that out of their evil must come something good.”

This is one of the pivotal moments in the history of Doctor Who. We already knew how it would turn out; the BBC isn’t about to kill off the cash cow that is the Daleks. But in resolving the situation, the Doctor, who in all of his incarnations has witnessed first-hand more Dalek-caused death and destruction than it would ever be possible for anyone else to experience, who knows the millions of years of “havoc and destruction” that awaits because of the Daleks, still remains confident that good will ultimately emerge from even the worst of circumstances. It is a profound statement; in effect, an explanation for the existence of evil.*

*Two profound statements, in fact, the other being the sanctity of life—even Dalek life.

Granted, there’s an entire theology dealing with good and evil—Original Sin, free will and the like. But in some ways the simplest answer remains the best, and this is what the Doctor presents. Note the force of his statement: some good must come from the evil of the Daleks. Planets and nations will come together as a result of them, and perhaps it will foster understanding between different races and species. People who would otherwise remain apart will meet because of them, and some of them will marry and have children, and some of those children might, propelled by the threat from the Daleks, come up with inventions that will greatly benefit the brotherhood of man. One need only look in our own time at the many scientific achievements that resulted from the space program, which itself was a part of a Cold War being fought against dictators responsible for the deaths of many millions of people. You can create your own scenarios, but the point remains the same.

Ultimately, all that's required to understand the nature of good and evil is faith: faith that evil is not the end-all and the be-all. Indeed, the Doctor's refusal to commit genocide, even in what would appear to be a good cause, speaks to the importance of one remaining true to himself, regardless of the costs. Christians might think of this as the sanctification of the individual, the ability to reach into inner depths that might not otherwise be exposed save the existence of such a threat. For a program such as Doctor Who, one that frequently looks at religion with a cynical eye, the message that comes from "Genesis of the Daleks" is a surprisingly affirming one.

But then we really shouldn't be surprised. It's a point I've made more than once here, that inadvertent prophets can be found in the unlikeliest of places, It also reinforces another point: the truth is always the truth, no matter how you package or present it. Bishop Sheen probably couldn't have said it any better. TV