What's on TV? Monday, December 1, 1975

Something I didn't mention on Monday amongst the various changes to the daytime schedule is that NBC's Wheel of Fortune is expanding to one hour, joining The Price is Right as the only hour-long game shows on television. Before too many years, there won't be any half-hour dramas left, and not that many years later there won't be any game shows at all, except for Price. Networks don't show reruns of their primetime series anymore; for that matter, save the morning shows, there's not a whole lot of network programming at all during the day. I wonder how long it will be before we see this happening in the primetime schedule as well? Ah well, this week's listing is from the Eastern New England edition.

This week in TV Guide: November 29, 1975

Ahe objective of the 'scandalous revelations' filling the airwaves and news columns ought to be reform, but ‘thus far have brought little but cynicism and disillusion.'"

Talking about Fox, perhaps, or maybe MSNBC or CNN (or late night talk show hosts)? Think again. It’s Pat Buchanan, quoting U.S. Senator J. William Fulbright, in November 1975. In this week's issue, we have two stories that tell us much about the evolution of the media’s role in news coverage, and reminds us that nothing really is new.

The first is Pat Buchanan’s News Watch column, the source of the initial quote. Buchanan is talking about the change in media coverage since Watergate, a change that has brought on an "excessively mistrustful and even hostile" atmosphere. This isn't a referendum on Watergate, which remains shrouded in mystery more than fifty years later (Corrupt politicans? A psyop operation by the Deep State?), but it is a searching look at something more, at the natural evolution of such an atmosphere, asking "what will be the ultimate impact upon the democratic system, which itself guarantees freedom of the press?"

The problem, according to Buchanan, is that the media now has a vested interest in scandal: for ratings, for dollars, for prestige. (Little-remembered fact: NBC’s Huntley-Brinkley Report was once presented without commercial interruption, in order to eliminate potential conflicts of interest and signify that the news division was not driven by profit margin.) What happens when that self-interest conflicts with a larger interest—the national interest, for example? Granting that the exact nature of the national interest is often a subject up for debate, Buchanan nevertheless points to the "declining confidence in leaders and institutions" and speculates on the ultimate consequence this will have for the nation.

Buchanan again quotes Fulbright (a Democrat, by the way, and never a natural ally of Pat's), who had recently authored the article "Fulbright on the Press" in the Columbia Journalism Review: "That Puritian self-righteousness which is never far below the surface of American life has broken through the frail barriers of civility and restraint, and the press has been in the vanguard of the new aggressiveness."

What has changed is not the nature nor the inclination of those in the media to go after their subjects with every weapon at their disposal. What is new now is the very definition of media, which in this sense has come to include every blog, every web page, every podcast, every social media account on X, Facebook, and Instagram; in short, everyone with an opinion, which is just about everyone. As new types of media and new modes of communication have come about, this instinct of which Fulbright speaks has become more invasive, more insidious. Indeed, isn’t this what some here have spoken about, the increasing incivility of the internet? Well, looking at this issue is like seeing the seeds of that harvest being planted.

A lot of people fall back on the "freedom of speech" argument, defending their right to say what they want, whenever they want. And this is not an argument that should be taken lightly, because it's a slippery slope at best. But Fulbright contends that the social contract requires "a measure of voluntary restraint, an implicit agreement among the major groups and interests in our society that none will apply their powers to the fullest." A measure of responsibility, in other words, which is a commodity that is in short supply nowadays.

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Now, I mention this not merely because of Pat Buchanan’s words, but because of the echo which the subject matter receives in another article from this issue, Edwin Newman’s "People are Generally Skeptical of Us…and Indeed They Should Be." Newman shares the concern with the increasing intrusiveness of the media. Asked what was wrong with endless investigation and revelation of public figures by the media, Newman replied, "It degrades public life. If purity tests are to become an accepted part of American life before anybody can go into politics, politics is going to be intolerable. It’s very nearly intolerable now.”

Remember, he said this fifty years ago.

As for "advocacy journalism," which was very much in vogue following Watergate (and remains so today—how many young people get into journalism to "make a difference"?), Newman remains wary: "Advocacy journalism, so-called, cheats the public, which is entitled to make up its own mind." In other words, as Fox News used to say (but no longer does, if they ever did), "We report, you decide." Whether you think they've ever been accurate with that promise, you have to appreciate the perceptiveness of the marketing gurus who developed that slogan.

Newman adds, "Anybody in our business should avoid taking on false importance. We should certainly not pretend to be infallible." Now that’s a novel idea today.

Newman also sounds a cautionary note on something which Buchanan alludes to, the amount of faith (or lack thereof) that people put in their leaders. Buchanan quotes Fulbright: "Bitter disillusionment with our leaders is the other side of the coin of worshiping them." Picking up on that thread (although the two articles are not connected), Newman says that such idolatry "leads to all kinds of lunatic expectations about what can be accomplished by politicians and so leads to irrational and disproportionate disappointment…it misleads Presidents about Presidents, so that they are tempted to do foolish things. And I think the press contributes to this for reasons of its own."

This is a warning we should carefully consider. There’s a pronounced tendency nowadays to put an inordinate amount of faith in human institutions, or perhaps I should say the humans who occupy such institutions—government, medical, legal, religious, scientific, educational—which always seems to wind up badly. We create institutions, we tear them down, we rebuild them again. It keeps everyone busy, I suppose.

In many ways, the sins of the Sixties culture were starting to be felt in the Seventies, and would continue to be felt in subsequent decades. So one can see, as far back as 1975, a growing concern with cynicism in society, a disregard for institutions, and a press displaying an “anything for a story” attitude. Again, there’s nothing new here, as it was not new then. But as communication expanded beyond the newspaper to radio, beyond radio to television, and beyond broadcast television to cable and satellite; as letters gave way to email and the internet, and as information once taking hours or days to transmit is now given instant analysis and parsing through social media, so also the consequences of such concerns are magnified, enlarged, and become even more troublesome.

There really isn’t anything new out there, only new ways of expressing it. And, it seems, new ways of ignoring old truths and concerns.

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On weeks when we can, we'll match up two of the biggest rock shows of the era, NBC's The Midnight Special and the syndicated Don Kirshner's Rock Concert, and see who's better, who's best.

Kirshner: Melissa Manchester, New Riders of the Purple Sage, and Hoyt Axton are the performers. Don Kirshner is the host of the series.

Special: Olivia Newton-John, the Bee Gees, soul-pop singer Natalie Cole (the late Nat King Cole's daughter) and country singer Mickey Gilley are the guests. Also: a salute to Rod Stewart. Neil Diamond's "I Am...I Said" is the spotlighted hit. 

Now, I figure you all know who Natalie Cole is, but I left that reference in because, in 1975, she wasn't the established name she is today. Back then, she was just Nat King Cole's daughter. I've never been a particular fan of hers; I don't want to accuse her of being a nepo baby, but I do wonder, if her name was Natalie Smith, how big a career she might have had. Nonetheless, she's part of the winning side this week, as the salute to Rod Stewart breaks a tie between a lackluster matchup. So let's give the nod to Special, but don't exert any more energy than that.

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And now for something more lighthearted, an article about our longtime favorite, game show standard Kitty Carlisle, written by Peter Funt, son of the legendary TV host Allen Funt. (If you're old enough to remember Candid Camera, you'll know who we mean.) "The only way to see Kitty Carlisle in the same dress twice," the article proclaims, "is to watch reruns of To Tell the Truth." Funt's story is a charming portrait of an entertainer who takes her job seriously, as well as her responsibility to her fans, and radiates class all the way. "She is one actress who still refuses to appear in public without beautiful clothes, ornate jewelry and a carefully styled coiffure." Particularly humorous is her description of her "pit crew," the wardrobe people responsible for helping her change in the ten minutes between shows (the five-a-week show was taped in a single afternoon). "Every once in a while, I feel like I'm a car in the pits at Indianapolis. Somebody changes the oil, kicks the tires—you know, pats the hair and shoves me back out on the stage."

She was a fun, classy lady, and an intelligent game player.

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On Saturday, NBC preempts Saturday Night Live for college basketball, and we're not talking about any old game, but one of the biggest regular-season games in many years, as defending national champion UCLA takes on undefeated, top-ranked Indiana at the supposedly neutral site of St. Louis (which in reality is swarming with Hoosier fans cheering their team on). Note the starting time of 11:30 p.m. ET, totally out of prime time. At this point, television hadn't quite figured out primetime sports yet, and although everyone realized how big this game was, they still thought it might be a drag on ratings, which is why it has such a strange time spot. (The game is live, of course, which means tip-off is 10:30 p.m. local time in St. Louis.) The game of the season winds up being no contest at all; Indiana crushes UCLA 84-64, and it wasn't even that close; it's a big win for the Hoosiers on the way to an undefeated season and the national championship; they are, to date, the last undefeated national champion, and unquestionably one of the greatest teams of all time.

Ronald Reagan, former governor of California, who's challenging President Ford for the Republican presidential nomination, is the guest on Issues and Answers (Sunday, 1:30 p.m., ABC). The politicos still aren't quite sure what to make of Reagan's candidacy, and whether he poses a serious threat to Ford; they'll find out the answer soon enough. That night, the Sunday Mystery Movie presents  Tony Curtis as McCoy. (9:00 p.m., NBC). Does anyone out there still recall that series, McCoy?  It was part of NBC's Sunday Mystery Movie series, alternating with McCloud, McMillan & Wife, and Columbo, and people had a lot of fun with three Macs in the series. I thought it was kind of fun, myself, as Curtis plays a con man/Robin Hood-type, not dissimilar to the early '60s series The Rogues, but it only lasted for a few episodes before falling away.  NBC never was able to fill that fourth spot; I suppose Quincy would be considered the most successful, since it was spun off into its own weekly series. Richard Boone's Hec Ramsey actually ran for two seasons in the Sunday spot, which wasn't too bad.

There's a big shake-up in the soap opera world this week, as the venerable As the World Turns expands to an hour (1:30 p.m., CBS), and All in the Family becomes part of the network's daytime lineup, with repeat episodes (beginning today with the series premiere) running Monday through Friday at 3:00 p.m. Meanwhile, ABC welcomes The Edge of Night to its schedule after a 19-year run on CBS with a special 90-minute episode (3:00 p.m.); the serial returns to its regular 30-minute format tomorrow. We've got dueling evangelists on Monday night; Billy Graham's third program from Lubbock, Texas airs at 8:00 p.m. on WSBK in Boston; then, at 10:00 p.m. on WPRI in Providence, Oral Roberts, Kathryn Kuhlman, and Rex Humbard join forces for a special Bicentennial salute to America, with Pat Boone, Connie Smith, and Senator Mark Hatfield.

On Tuesday, we're treated to the first of two primetime appearances by Richard Basehart, tonight on Joe Forrester (10:00 p.m., NBC), the short-lived cop drama starring Lloyd Bridges as the world's oldest beat cop. (Or maybe I should say "one of the oldest," given that I haven't seen them all.) I'm not sure who "Al Morgan," Basehart's character in the drama, is, but take your pick: he's either a slippery drug pusher, a persistent drunk, or a particularly menacing shakedown artist. And you know what? He could probably play any of them credibly.

Wednesday, Hallmark Hall of Fame returns with "Valley Forge," Maxwell Anderson's dramatization of the cruel winter of 1777-78 spent by George Washington and his troops at their Pennsylvania encampment. (8:00 p.m,. NBC) Cold, without sufficient food or water, and facing the formidable British forces of General William Howe, Washington must struggle to hold his "shambles of an army" against almost insurmountable odds. This time, Richard Basehart stars as Washington, and it's a testament to the power and brilliance of his performance that the 5'9" Basehart is able to present such a convincing portrait of the 6'3" Washington, but as you watch it, you will believe that he is the Commander in Chief. (Insert obligatory slam at today's Hallmark movies here.)

Thursday sees the debut of a pair of new sitcoms on NBC, beginning at 8:00 p.m. with Grady, the Sanford & Son spinoff, with Whitman Mayo reprising his role as Fred's goodhearted buddy, now living in Santa Monica with his daughter, son-in-law, and two grandkids. That's followed at 8:30 p.m. by The Cop and the Kid, a formulaic comedy with Charles Durning as a single, middle-aged white cop who somehow gains the custody of a streetwise black orphan. You might remember Grady, given that its lead character was familiar from a previous show, and it's been released on DVD. The Cop and the Kid, however, is more of a challenge, and rightly so; that's one of those shows where you truly wonder about how it got the green light. It did run for 13 episodes, though, so there's that.

And in the oldie-but-goody category, there's a repeat showing of Sean Connery's debut as James Bond in Dr. No (Friday, 9:00 p.m., ABC). Besides the fact that it co-stars Ursula Andress and features an entirely credible titular villain, played by Joseph Wiseman, it has a savage edge to it that most of the later movies lack. It's not exactly seasonal fare, but then is Bond ever really out of season? Judith Crist calls it "strictly a popcorn-and-Coke Saturday-afternoon-serial entertainment," which isn't really as bad as it sounds, and Connery, "the unsurpassable Bondsman, is elegant and high-living and dashing." However, if you've already seen it, you might be more inclined to the three-hour presentation of Tora, Tora, Tora (8:00 p.m., CBS), the story of the attack on Pearl Harbor. Crist says it recounts, "in boring fashion how lazy, dumb Americans practically brought Pearl Harbor down on their own heads despite the best efforts of those brilliant gentlemen from Japan." Ouch, that stings!

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I couldn't ignore this oddity from the week's movie listings, one of those things that maybe (probably) interests only me. On Thursday, WFSB in Hartford presents The Quiller Memorandum (9:00 p.m.), the 1966 spy thriller based on the novel by Adam Hall (pen name of Elleston Trevor), starring George Segal, Alec Guinness, Max von Sydow, and Senta Berger. It's a pretty good movie, as these movies go, and Segal turns in a fairly convincing performance as a cynical American intelligence agent investigating a group of neo-Nazis. 

All right, you say, it may be a pretty good movie, but so what? Well, it so happens that some time later, in 1975, a series based on the Quiller character—called, logically enough, Quiller—hit the British airwaves, starring the very good Michael Jayston* as Quiller, who has now become a British agent. A movie, comprised of episodes from the series, was released in the same year, called Quiller: Price of Violence. And, of course, this movie happens to air this week as well, on Wednesday (12:30 a.m., ABC) 

*Jayston would later co-star with Guinness in the brilliant miniseries Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, a spy series set in a similar era, based on the novel by John le Carré. I guess it's a small spy world after all.

I don't know how unusual something like this is; there's obvious coordination between stations in showing these on consecutive nights. But I always enjoy running across these kinds of coincidences in TV Guide.

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Now that Thanksgiving is beyond us, we are, of course, in the thick of the Christmas programming season (as it was still called back then), and the season explodes into view on Wednesday, with CBS's double feature of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (8:00 p.m.) and Bing Crosby's annual Yuletide clambake, Merry Christmas, Fred, From the Crosbys (9:00 p.m.), reuniting Bing with his old Holiday Inn co-star, Fred Astaire. And if you want a second helping of Bing, don't miss White Christmas, with Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, and Vera-Ellen, Thursday at 9:00 p.m. on WJAR in Providence. Finally, on Friday, ABC has a double feature of its own, an animated twin bill beginning with Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus (8:00 p.m.), narrated by Jim Backus, and A Very Merry Cricket (8:30 p.m.), written and directed by Chuck Jones.

I'm a little surprised that there aren't even more on this week; nowadays, the Hallmark movies start, I don't know, a little after the Fourth of July, and Rudolph usually airs in November. And after all, Friday's already December 5, so time's slipping away! You can bet they've been running the commercials, though—those likely started before Halloween... TV

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Around the dial

Well, here we are on Black Friday, and hopefully, everyone had a thankful Thanksgiving and took at least a few minutes to reflect on the true meaning of the day. It really does represent a whole lot more than just the first cog in the Christmas machine, and we can probably come up with a great many reasons to be thankful, if we just shut out the noise and think about it for a bit. Having said all that, I'm now prepared to add some noise of my own to the general din of the day.  

Mavis Movie Madness commemorates Thanksgiving with a look at A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, one of the lesser Peanuts efforts, as Paul correctly describes it. I know that people like to think of this as a classic, usually packaging it with The Great Pumpkin and A Charlie Brown Christmas, but while there are some good moments, it doesn't add up; never have you had a greater desire to shout, "Where are the adults?"

How many of you remember the sitcom Fay? It was a vehicle for Lee Grant, and ran for ten episodes in the 1975-76 season. At Television Obscurities, Robert shares the video of the fall preview of the series. Does it give us any clues as to the failure of Fay? 

Was there ever an episode of The A-Team that didn't tick all the boxes on the show's signature formula? Well, at The View from the Junkyard Roger reviews "It's a Desert Out There," in which a couple of tweaks to the formula provide a surprising episode.  

At Cult TV Blog, John continues his fascinating series on whether or not The Prisoner could refer to Soviet Russia, with the episodes "Checkmate" and "Hammer into Anvil," and while they may not fit John's thesis, they still make for a couple of fascinating episodes.

Now, as a kid I happen to remember the big screen version of The Flintsones, the spy spoof The Man Called Flintstone. Did we stand in line at the theater, waiting to get in along with a bunch of other kids? Perhaps. I hadn't thought about it for awhile until Captain Video came up with the comic book adaptation of the movie. Whaddya think? Does it still hold up after all these years?

At Eventually Supertrain, I'm back with Dan to talk about Garrison's Gorillas; there's also the continuing saga of Ghosted, and a mystery show! Like Dan, I'm not telling you about it: you'll have to check it out for yourself and see!

Finally, I'm back on Ed Robertson's great TV Confidential podcast to discuss Darkness in Primetime. (Part two is here). Hopefully, I live up to the high standards of Ed's other guests; that's part of what makes it a fascinating show.

Speaking of which: have you started your Christmas shopping yet? TV

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Let's give thanks for Thanksgiving!

It's been said that in New York, people refer to it as the "Macy's Day Parade," such is the identification the parade has with Thanksgiving. There are other, and older, Thanksgiving parades; Detroit, Philadelphia, Chicago, and Houston come to mind. And, if you ask me, the telecast of the Macy's parade has suffered over the years; the floats and bands and balloons almost seem to take second place to the pop stars and dancers lip-synching their way through Herald Square. If I wanted to torture myself that way, I'd watch the Grammys. (I don't know if MTV has music anymore, but if it does. . .) I seldom flip over to the Macy's parade anymore; I rely on the streaming coverage of the parades in Detroit and Chicago, and p.

But I come here not to bury the Macy's parade, but to praise it. No matter how bad the coverage may be (and whether you watch it on NBC or CBS, it's equally bad), I still have to catch a few minutes of it while flipping back and forth between the other parades. And when you strip away all that's annoying, it's still magically colorful. (Probably the best way to see it is to go to New York and view it from a point where the pop stars aren't warbling.) Take a trip through the years with the ads below, most of which have a prominent mention of the television coverage.

There was no TV for the first parade, though. I wonder if anyone thought it would last.

No parade was held between 1942 and 1944 due to the war. I'm guessing this might have been from the first year without the parade; having the balloons enlist is a clever way to make the point that everyone needs to sacrifice for the war effort.

The 1946 parade was not only the first to be televised, it was also the parade that appears in the greatest Christmas movie of all time, Miracle on 34th Street. Edmund Gwynn, who plays Santa in the movie (and won an Academy Award for it), was in fact the Santa in the Macy's parade that year. 

This ad for the 1954 parade is just fun, don't you think? It sums up the magic of Thanksgiving and Christmas all in one. You can see that, since the 1946 broadcast, television has now become an integral part of the company's advertising strategy.

The 1963 parade went on as scheduled, even thought it was six days after the assassination of President Kennedy, and the day after Lyndon Johnson's speech to a somber joint session of Congress. The rationale was to try and keep the day as normal as possible for children. All of the floats were adorned with black mourning streamers.

McDonald's was a sponsor of the telecast in 1965; it looks kind of like kids were supposed to color this in, doesn't it? And take a look at the vintage version of the Golden Arches at the bottom. Remember when all McDonald's looked that way?

An ad for the 1968 parade, from WRGB-TV in Albany, New York.

The 1982 parade; Bullwinkle is in the parade for the 22nd time, despite the fact that Rocky and Bullwinkle haven't been on network TV since 1964. The years may change, but the characters stay the same.

Garfield the cat appeared for the first time in the 1984 parade, as did Raggedy Ann, at least this incarnation. As the small print says, be sure to "See it live or on NBC-TV.!

Here's the poster for the 2019 parade. It's filled with the iconic images from history; the Tom Turkey float (which from that angle inspires thoughts of the NBC Peacock—coincidence?), the elves, and, of course, Santa. And speaking of iconic, there's Snoopy in his space suit, throwing back to the famous image of him that became so popular around the 1969 moon landing. And notice the things you didn't see on the other posters: the web address and hashtag. 

Even though I complain about them, the parades are one of my favorite things about Thanksgiving. Thanks to those miracles of technology, you can see the Macy's parade, as well as those in other cities, via streaming video (in the case of Macy's, the cameras from other locations probably make for a better viewing experience). Whatever, wherever, and however you watch, I hope it lends to the pleasure of your day, and that you all have a peaceful and most thankful Thanksgiving Day! TV

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What's on TV? Thursday, November 24, 1955

After the Saturday summary, there isn't really much more to say about this Thanksgiving Day 1955, but I will notice that 11:25 p.m. program on WPTZ, Harry K. Smith—Comment. Now, I'm just guessing here, mind you, but don't you think that has to be Howard K. Smith giving commentary? And I've never, ever heard anyone call him Harry. I don't know, he just doesn't seem like the Harry type; I'd think even his wife called him Howard. But then, had I known him, I'd probably have referred to him as "Mr. Smith." I do know this, though, that this week's listings are from Philadelphia.

This week in TV Guide: November 19, 1955

The holiday issues of TV Guide are always my favorites, not only because they offer special programs, but because they bring back memories of Thanksgiving and Christmas past. This week, we go all the way back to 1955, and what we'll see is that, for all its differences, there are still so many similarities between Thanksgivings then and now.

Take parades, for instance. Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade has already become a television staple, with this year's coverage hosted by Buffalo Bob Smith, and including special appearances by Danny Kaye and his daughter Dena, Lee Acker and Rin Tin Tin, and Hopalong Cassidy. The parade, then as now, is on NBC, but it starts at a much later time than we're used to—11:00 a.m. Eastern—and the running time is but one hour, not the three hours of today's bloated broadcast. It's also preceded by two other parades: the J.L. Hudson parade in Detroit, hosted by ventriloquist Jimmy Nelson and his dummy, Danny O'Day (10:15 a.m., ABC), and the Gimbels parade from Philadelphia (10:15 a.m., WCAU, with the national audience joining at 11:30 a.m. on CBS). Considering this is the Philadelphia edition of TV Guide, it's not surprising the close-up is heavy on details, but I've never seen one that includes the entire parade lineup; kind of cool, don't you think? Anyway, the Detroit parade runs for 45 minutes, while Philadelphia takes the prize at an hour and 45. 

(The parade action actually starts on Thanksgiving Eve, with coverage of the Bamberger's Parade of Lights, from Newark, New Jersey (6:00 p.m., CBS). The Bamberger's parade (sponsored by the department store of the same name) was held from 1931 to 1957, and was on Thanksgiving Day until the last couple of editions. Coverage of this year's parade is hosted by CBS newsman Charles Collingwood, and features Abbott and Costello, Phil Silvers, Captain Kangaroo, and Rin Tin Tin, among others. I think having something big on Thanksgiving Eve is a great idea, myself.)

Something else that's the same on Thanksgiving: football! At noon, it's the Detroit Lions in their annual Turkey Day classic, taking on the Green Bay Packers (ABC), followed by the traditional college clash between Texas and Texas A&M (2:00 p.m., NBC). Although the Packers and Lions don't play each other every Thanksgiving nowadays, they're playing in this Thanksgiving of 2025, while A&M and Texas play on Black Friday. As I said, it's the same, only different.

For some people—not me, but there are some—the highlight of Thanksgiving is the National Dog Show. That wasn't on back in 1955, but that's not to say there wasn't special programming on Thursday afternoon: what better than the seventh annual Longines Wittnauer Thanksgiving Television Festival (5:00 p.m., CBS), hosted by  Frank Knight, and featuring Basil Rathbone, Burl Ives, the famous Longines Symphonette and the Choraliers under the direction of Eugene Lowell, and the Corps de Ballet. You don't see programs like that anymore; I guess their time ran out. 

I don't know whether or not networks even bother with first-run programming on Thanksgiving night nowadays, but in 1955 they did, and the highlight of tonight's anthology dramas may well be Climax! (8:30 p.m., CBS) which features "Portrait in Celluloid," written by Rod Serling, directed by John Frankenheimer, and starring Kim Hunter, Jack Carson, Audrey Totter, and Don Taylor in the story of a writer's agent who's spent years living off the one great writing success of his own, an Oscar he won back in 1929. Now, he finds himself with an opportunity for a comeback in the shape of a young writer who's written a great script. What's interesting about this is parallel to Serling's own writing career: the tag line for "Portrait in Celluloid" contains a line about an award-winning writer who "finally learns he can't bank forever on a single success." Serling himself was in a similar spot, identified almost exclusively as the author of the award-winning teleplay "Patterns." It wouldn't be until the next year that Serling was able to break from that pattern (no pun intended) with "Requiem for a Heavyweight." 

Not a bad Thanksgiving, do you think? Nary a turkey in sight.

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As you know, there are few television genres bigger in the mid-1950s than the quiz show, and we have two examples in this week's issue to prove it. First up is Kathy Pedell's look at the man with all the questions, Dr. Bergen Evans. Evans, longtime English literature professor at Northwestern University, is known as the "question authority," responsible for the questions you hear on quiz shows from ABC’s Down You Go to CBS's The $64,000 Question. Speaking of Evans, Question's associate producer, Mert Koplin says, "The man is a Biblical authority, is writing a dictionary on contemporary American usage of words and knows literature the way a professor of the subject should. He could pull whole series of questions out of his head without once reaching for a book." And yet Evans describes himself as a "good research man," who knows little about jazz and nothing about baseball; those questions get farmed out to other authorities. He "reaches for books often," and won't use any question if the answer can't be authoritatively verified.

On the matter of what constitutes a "fair" question, Evans is firm: it should be "one which asks for information an expert in the field would be reasonably expected to know." In fact, what he'd really like to see is "to bring on a renowned scholar, quiz him on his specialty and throw him to the wolves." He says "There isn’t a man alive who couldn’t be stumped by a question in his field," and points to conversations he's had with his colleagues at Northwestern, in which he asks them if they'd be willing to serve as the expert that a contestant is allowed to consult for the final $64,000 question. (Similar to the phone-a-friend gimmick from Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?) "All said, 'No.' The reasoning: If the contestant turned to the expert for help and if the expert let him down, the blow would be terrible. The expert has too much to lose and not enough to gain."

Anyway, Evans doesn't choose the final questions actually used on the programs; he groups them according to difficulty level, then works with Koplin and executive producer Steve Carlin to choose 66 of them (one for each of the eleven levels in Question), from which Koplin and Carlin make the final choices. "That's a decision," Evans says, "which I'm happy not to have on my conscience.

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On the flip side, there's Dan Jenkins's review of the NBC quiz show The Big Surprise, which, no surprise here, is the network's answer to the aforementioned $64,000 Question, the CBS megahit. Jenkins, in the great tradition of Our Critic Cleveland Amory, does not mince words: the first edition of The Big Surprise "took all the worst features of Question, This Is Your Life and Strike It Rich, putting them together with a fine and total disregard for a maxim once propounded by playwright Moss Hart: The members of an audience may not know— or even care—why a show is wrong, but they certainly know it is wrong."

With nowhere to go but up, the show was quickly retooled, dropping its gimmick of rewarding people who'd done good deeds, added an "electronic brain" element, and "took off at a hard gallop toward its one purpose in life: to give away, if humanly possible, $100,000, thus topping the loot given away by 'that other show.'" The problem is that, again no surprise, Question is a much better show than Surprise, and while it can't match the $100,000 grand prize, it more than makes up for it with "careful planning and showmanship." Even veteran quizmaster Jack Barry can't save this turkey, for it's unlikely that "his wealth of experience has prepared him to emerge unscathed from his present assignment." In 1956 (yes, the show lasts that long), Barry will be replaced as host by Mike Wallace (bet he never talked about that on 60 Minutes), and even later we'll find out that The Big Surprise was part of the quiz show scandal. Are we surprised?

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The Big Surprise happens to air on Saturday night (7:30 p.m., NBC), with Mrs. Kyra Shirk going for $100,000 in the category of ballistics. However, your better bet is to cast your lot with Ford Star Jubilee's brilliant presentation of Herman Wouk's "The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial" (9:30 p.m., CBS), which Wouk adapted for the theater from his Pulitzer Prize-winning novel. The story, which takes place entirely within the courtroom, stars most of the original Broadway cast, including Lloyd Nolan as Captain Philip Queeg, Barry Sullivan as defense attorney Barney Grenwald, and Frank Lovejoy as Lt. Stephen Maryk, the man accused of staging the mutiny. Charles Laughton, who directed the play on Broadway, rehearsed the cast for tonigh's broadcast, which is directed by Franklin Schaffner. I've always believed that The Caine Mutiny to be a deeply flawed story, with Wouk's misplaced sympathy for Queeg challenging the reader's own judgment, but there are no complaints with this adaptation.

Sunday is a good day for cultural enlightenment, starting with the Hallmark Hall of Fame presentation of George Bernard Shaw's satire "The Devil's Disciple" (4:00 p.m., NBC), produced by and starring Maurice Evans, with Ralph Bellamy, Teresa Wright, and Margaret Hamilton. It's one of Shaw's so-called "Plays for Puritans," in which all ends well but "love doesn't make the world go round." Meanwhile, Omnibus has Oliver Goldsmith's 18th-century comedy of manners, "She Stoops to Conquer," starring Michael Redgrave and Hermione Gingold. (5:00 p.m., CBS). Later on, ABC's Famous Film Festival, the first primetime network movie series, which featured British movies made within the past decade or so, airs the television debut of The Lavender Hill Mob (7:30 p.m.), the 1951 comedy classic starring Alec Guinness and Stanley Holloway in a scheme to rob a bank of a treasure in gold. 

Sid Caesar and his crew satirize Anchors Aweigh-style movies on Caesar's Hour (Monday, 8:00 p.m., NBC). That's followed by a program of Thanksgiving music on Voice of Firestone (8:30 p.m., ABC), and then Robert Montgomery Presents (9:30 p.m., NBC) has the story of a female mystery novelist who becomes involved in the murder of a young girl whose name is the same as that of a character in one of the novelist's stories. To complicate things, the authoress was apparently the last person to see the young girl alive. Geralding Fitzgerald and Alfred Ryder star.

Former First Daughter Margaret Truman is a special guest on the Playwrights '56 presentation "Daisy, Daisy (Tuesday, 9:30 p.m., NBC), which stars Tom Ewell and Jane Wyatt in the story of an author who helps publish a gushy romance written by "a dying 17-year-old Australian girl." Nancy Walker helps Red Skelton celebrate Thanksgiving on his show (9:30 p.m., CBS), featuring a fish peddler (Red) whose hopes for a romantic dinner go afoul when the turkey he's supposed to bring flies away. 

Besides the Banberger's Parade, Wednesday sees some pre-Thanksgiving festivities in the form of "The Courtship of Miles Standish" on Matinee Theater (3:00 p.m., NBC), based on the poem by Longfellow. On Father Knows Best (8:30 p.m., NBC), "Jim is very proud of Kathy, who has written the best Thanksgiving Day poem in the fourth grade, until he hears the poem. His disappointment increases when plans for a family dinner go awry." Oh, dear. Rod Serling returns for a second look this week; besides his script for Climax! on Thursday, he's the author of "Incident in an Alley" on The United States Steel Hour (10:00 p.m., CBS), with Farley Granger starring as a rookie policeman tortured by guilt after being forced to kill a young boy in the line of duty.

Is there anything else on Thanksgiving that we haven't already covered? Well, there's Assignment India (5:00 p.m., NBC), narrated by former ambassador Chester Bowles, an hour-long color documentary on India, including an interview with Prime Minister Nehru, and rare clips of Gandhi. The score is by Alan Hovhanness, the great American 20th century composer; quite a coup to have him working on a television program. And Johnny Carson's guest on his early primetime series (10:00 p.m., CBS) is William Bendix, star of The Life of Riley.

The week ends (and the shopping season begins) with an interesting episode of Crossroads (8:30 p.m., ABC) entitled "The Good Thief"; it's the true story of Army chaplain Fr. Emil Kapaun, who resisted torture and brainwashing by his Chinese Communist captors during the Korean War, and tried to help his fellow POWs by stealing from Communist food stores. Fr. Kapaun died in captivity in 1951, and for his efforts he was posthumously awarded the Distinguished Service Cross in 1951, the Legion of Merit in 1955, and the Congressional Medal of Honor in 2013; he was declared a Servant of God by the pope in 1993. James Whitmore plays the Fr. Kapaun, and you can see that episode, by the way, on YouTube.

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And now a word about Jack Benny, the man on this week's cover, the "top man" in the business of comedy, and without doubt one of the most loved entertainers in the business. Benny, says one friend, "is the kind of guy every kid should have as an uncle. He’s as honest and comfortable as an old shoe. He’s decent. He laughs at even the most terrible jokes—the kind kids are full of. He could even get ’em interested in their violin lessons. And he’s rich without making a big thing of it." An associate of his calls him "the kind who will be sitting in a hotel room with his press agent and suddenly want breakfast—and who will reach over for the phone and call Room Service himself. Forty-nine out of 50 comics wouldn’t dream of doing that—unless they wanted to put on an act." And he belies the "nice guy" curse that has been the kiss of death for more than one Hollywood performer.

He's also one of those rareties, a comic who shares the spotlight wth others, who doesn't care who gets the credit as long as the audience laughs. He's had a guest list over the last few years that is second to none, and he's effusive in his praise of other comics. His secret, in his own words, is simple: "If a comic situation is basically honest, it’s gotta be funny. If I were a lousy violin player, this routine wouldn’t be funny. But I’m a pretty good violin player. I’m just good enough to make a fluff look funny." (Would that more "comedians" took that advice today.) He also knows how to keep his team happy and together; two of his four main writers have been with him for a dozen years; Don Wilson has been on the show for 21 years, and Rochester for 17; Hilliard Marks, the producer, is on his 10th season, and Ralph Levy, the director, as been there for five.

Now 61, there were rumors that his twice-monthly show might move to airing weekly; he considered it, but ultimately rejected the idea. He did, however, agree to appear in several episodes of CBS's Shower of Stars, and as a concession to his workload, he decided to drop his radio show of 21 years. Regardless of how long or where he is, though, you can be sure his fans will follow. It's good to know that sometimes nice guys do finish first.

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Finally, here's a reminder from TV Guide that it's not too early to start thinking about those Christmas gift ideas. My point here isn't the incredible price ($5 for one year!), it's just that this ad is so darn festive! It's a great way to usher in the Christmas season, don't you think?

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Around the dial

Photo by Stockcake.com

We start this week at Comfort TV, where David takes a look at five classic shows overdue for a remake. Keeping in mind how often these remakes fail (and even the ones that didn't, should have), I wouldn't mind seeing new versions of Playhouse 90, Ellery Queen, Honey West, and more.

John steps away from his Prisoner series at Cult TV Blog to review the 1988 miniseries Menace Unseen, a sinister little tale that takes from conspiracy theories, tech revolutions, some nice '80s vibes, and Ian Ogilvie to craft a compelling, if perhaps overly ambitious story.

At Television Obscurities, Robert shares an interesting compilation video of interviews taken with Ithaca College students regarding Rod Serling, who was a visiting professor at Ithaca for many years. Like Robert, I can't imagine what it would have been like to take a class from him.

Terence honors Rock Hudson at A Shroud of Thoughts on the occasion of the one-hundredth anniversary of Rock's birth. The man really had an impressive CV of movie and television work; whether or not you think he was a great actor, there's no question he was a star. 

Care for some literature? Martin Grams has a look at Dick Tracy, Ace Detective, a full-length novel "written" and illustrated by Tracy creator Chester Gould. It's the first of two Tracy novels published by Whitman in the 1940s; I really should give him a second look.

At A View from the Junkyard, The A-Team comes to the assistance of a crime-fighting minister in "Pure-Dee Poison"; unfortunately, the episode has more than a few flaws, including what may perhaps be the dumbest group of bad guys forever, who make The Three Stooges look like geniuses. 

I always enjoy giving a shout-out to blogs celebrating anniversaries, and it's the third anniversary of Classic Film and TV Corner: congratulations, Maddy!

Finally, my latest American TV History video with Dan Schneider is up; it's the 100th anniversary of the Golden Age of Radio, which seemed like a good reason to talk about radio series that made the transition to television. It's a fun topic, and there are bound to be a few of your favorite TV shows that you didn't know had their origins in the theater of the mind. Enjoy! TV

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TV Jibe: Paying tribute

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What's on TV: Friday, November 19, 1965

On Saturday, we took a look at Slattery's People, the highly-praised but little-watched political drama that CBS canceled earlier in the season. As you can see, it's still on, playing out the string of completed episodes, and this week's listing includes a plug for for Dwight Witney's story with the cutting remark, "'Slattery’s People' have failed to reelect him. See Page 12." And who, indeed, can be surprised? For while The Man from U.N.C.L.E. sees Napoleon and Illya in Japan searching for THRUSH's Eastern headquarters (along with France Nuyen!), Slattery is involved in a disupte about the railroad's plans to discontinue a line that has low ridership. Well, which one would you watch? Happily, we can see them both, or at least the listings for them, in this week's Northern California edition.

This week in TV Guide: November 13, 1965

Television is a lot like the weather, don't you think? We're always complaining about it, but never do anything about it. And when someone does try to change it—by improving its quality, for example—people don't watch it, and then go back to complaining. (Which makes it a lot like social media too, come to think of it.) And such is the case, as we find out this week from Dwight Whitney, with a program called, Slattery's People.

Slattery's People, starring Richard Crenna, was one of CBS's prestige dramas, created by James Moser, the man responsible for Medic and Ben Casey. Moser approached the network and its then-president, James Aubrey, with the idea of a show about "a young, Kennedy-like politician, along the lines of Casey, with the capitol dome substituting for the operating room." It had been turned down by ABC, "on the grounds that political shows were never really successful." This apparently acted as something of an aphrodisiac for Aubury, who wanted to show that he "knew better." He bit on Moser's idea. 

 

The problems came early and often, beginning with Aubrey's insistence that the lead role go to Crenna, who until then had been known primarily for two long-running series: Our Miss Brooks, in which he portrayed perennial teenager Walter Denton, and The Real McCoys, in which he played the good-natured Luke McCoy to Walter Brennan's patriarch Amos. Crenna himself had once said that he couldn't "compete with those good-looking former gas-station attendants who become stars overnight," and alarm bells sounded for Moser and the team at Bing Crosby Productions, who preferred someone stronger, more charismatic—someone, in fact, like Vince Edwards, star of Casey. But, as Moser points out, "When the head man wants it that bad—well, you are hardly in a position to argue." 

Almost as soon as the pilot for Slattery was shot, Aubrey began second-guessing himself. He thought the pilot was "great," and liked the idea of a serious dramatic program to counteract the accusations that he was lowering the Tiffany Network's standards, but he also wanted the show to "get out from under the capitol dome more." Says one insider, "It was that well-known Aubrey ambivalence. He wanted it but he didn’t. We didn’t know which side of Aubrey we were fighting, the literary Jim Aubrey or the merely commercial one." Moser, more blunt about it, said "What he was really saying was: Let’s make this into a political adventure show." 

Slattery debuted that fall to critical praise, but ratings disaster, as it was slaughtered by its opposition: Ben Casey, irony of ironies. There was talk of replacing Crenna with someone stronger; the actor complained that "Everybody was looking for a whipping boy to salve their injured egos. I was a natural selection. I wasn’t ready to buy that." Aubury decided the show needed more women in the supporting cast to make it more "popular," and that Crenna's character needed to be "humanized." It was, according to Whitney, "a kind of Terry and the Politicians." Aubury also moved the show from Mondays to Fridays, where it would go up against The Man from U.N.C.L.E. Everyone, Crenna included, assumed it would be canceled at the end of the season, and it was. A week after that, Aubury was himself canceled by William Paley, and Slattery found itself with a second life, thanks to Michael Dann, the network's VP in charge of programming. Dann put the show back on the fall schedule, declaring to the media that "Although the series has never been in the Top 10, we believe this hour.of meaningful drama has a place on our schedule next fall."

"Back at the studio," Moser had already started a new project. A new producer, Irving Elman, was called in. Slattery began to loosen his tie, both literally and figuratively. He was referred to, for the first time on camera, by his first hame. A love interest was introduced. And, after the second episode of the shows's second season, it was canceled again. The show's ratings were worse than ever (if two episods can be considered statistically significant; "Slattery was not even getting a sampling," and as someone pointed out, if you can't get people to sample a show, you're in big trouble. Slattery's People would be replaced in the timeslot by another struggling drama, Trials of O'Brien, which would meet a similar fate before too long. 

Although praising the show, Dann points out, not unreasonably, that "there are certain minimum requirements. This year Slattery was our lowest-rated drama." "I know what the rules are," Crenna said, looking back at it from the perspective of a man who's been around the business. "During the years we were doing The Real McCoys, we knocked off 19 shows, among them Playhouse 90." That doesn't mean he has to like it, though, or that he thinks it's right. "I don’t ask for any miracles. The real shame is that the medium can’t make room for a Playhouse 90. Just the same I am going to miss Slattery’s People." It is, it would seem, the eternal conundrum: people complain about the lack of quality television, but when you give it to them, they don't watch.

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During the 60s, the Ed Sullivan Show and The Hollywood Palace were the premier 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 scheduled guests are comics Woody Allen and Bert Lahr; the rock 'n' rolling Dave Clark Five; singer Jerry Vale; the singing Barry Sisters; and the winners of the Harvest Moon Ball dance contest. (Other sources confirm this lineup as listed.)

Palace: The hostess is Judy Garland, who dons her tramp costume for two numbers and recalls songs made famous by singers at the original Palace on Broadway. Also on the bill: singer Vic Damone, dancer Chita Rivera, comedian Gene Baylos, the comedy team of Avery Schreiber and Jack Burns, the acrobatic Lyons Family and the Three Bragazzi, musical clowns from Italy.

There's nothing wrong with Ed's lineup this week; Woody Allen could be very funny as a standup, the Dave Clark Five are at their peak, and Jerry Vale is as smooth as ever. On the other hand, though, you've got Judy Garland hosting the Palace, and she proves she can still put on quite a show when she gets a venue such as this. Chita Rivera is as exciting a dancer as there is around, and there's nothing wrong with Vic Damone's voice, either. This week, Garland takes the Palace over the rainbow for the win.

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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. 

It's difficult to think of Steve Lawrence without also thinking of his wife, Eydie Gorme: they started out together on Steve Allen's Tonight, and "Steve and Eydie" is how we think of them, even though whenever they appeared with Johnny Carson, for example, they famously appeared on separate nights, so that one of them would always be home with their children. And Steve Lawrence did, in fact, build up a considerable list of solo credits, including many appearances on The Carol Burnett Show. You might have forgotten that, for a short time, he was even host of his own weekly variety show, The Steve Lawrence Show, and if you have forgotten such fact, according to Cleveland Amory, it's your loss.

The Lawrence show (at the time, he was considered a protege of Jackie Gleason, whose company produced Lawrence's effort) is by no means perfect. It falls victim to so many of the cliches and unimaginative tropes of so many variety shows of the day: the congratulatory "telegrams" from celebrities that turn out to be extended jokes ("You sang better than I ever did’ and it’s signed ‘Dean .. . and Mrs. Rusk"), the grand entrances of guests such as Lucille Ball (who complained that Lawrence introduced her as "the first lady of TV"; "I’m not. The first lady of television was Milton Berle."), and so on. Cleve cites an example from the show's premiere, when Steve and Lucy rode through Shubert Alley atop an elephant, which at one point chose to dump the pair into the startled arms of spectators. When highlights of the procession made it on air, it was sans such unplanned mishap, "which illustrates not only how little imagination producers of a taped show have when, once in a blue moon, something happens which actually would be interesting, but also how you are being shortchanged by the 'miracle' of tape."

If this sounds harsh, it's only because the show is capable of so much more. Notes Amory, "Mr. Lawrence himself has some strong pluses, not only as a singer but also a host. He doesn’t, like so many other hosts, come on as if he thought he was the greatest man since Adam and he doesn’t try to hit you over the head with (a) his charm (b) his wit or (c) his voice." When he quietly sings songs such as "You'll Never Know" or "I Really Don't Want to Know," "he can be extraordinarily ingratiating." One show, a country-music salute to Nashville, was, as Amory put it, "excellent." It helps make up for the time when Bobby Darin sang "Get Me to the Church on Time" "as if he had just misplaced the tune and lost the address of the lyricist." In all, it seems as if Lawrence, like so many past stars (see: Garland, Judy) was done wrong by his producers and directors; when the show does conclude its run, after 13 weeks, it's with Eydie joining him on stage, and I'll wager the two of them singing was all the show ever needed.

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When it was released in 1958, Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo was considered fun and exciting, but "too long and slow" to ever be considered among the master's best. Today, it's not only ranked as his best, it's considered by most critics to be one of the greatest movies of all time. Personally, I think that's a little much; I mean, it's good, but I never did quite see what all the shouting was about. Nonetheless, it makes its network television debut on NBC's Saturday Night at the Movies (9:00 p.m.), earning the coveted "time extension" slot that permits it to run a half-hour longer than the average Saturday night movie, concluding at 11:30 p.m. And, whether you think it's great or mearly good, it's a pretty nice way to spend a Saturday evening.

On Sunday, Danger Man's John Drake, Patrick McGoohan, stars in part one of a three-part presentation of Walt Disney's charming 1963 story of a girl and her cat, The Three Lives of Thomasina, on The Wonderful World of Color (7:30 p.m., NBC). And for something slightly different, I recommend staying up late to see KHSL's late movie, The Killers (11:15 p.m.), a terrific adaptation of Ernest Hemingway's short story, starring Burt Lancaster, Ava Gardner, and Edmund O'Brien. As you probably know, it was remade in 1964, starring Lee Marvin, Ronald Reagan (his last film role), and Angie Dickinson; I actually prefer the remake, but the original is pretty damn good.

False jeopardy notice: on Monday's episode of Run for Your Life (10:00 p.m., NBC), "Motor trouble forces Paul to stop in Pine Grove, where he gets into a fight with town boss Loomis’s son Neddie—who is later found murdered." As you know, this is one of the TV tropes I absolutely despise, and there are actually two for the price of one in this story: not only is Paul (Ben Gazzara) put in false jeopardy—I mean, you and I both know the star of the show isn't going to be written out by being convicted of murder, so everything that follows depends on how well the search for the real killer goes—it also happens in an unhospitable small town run by a tyrannical local citizen, which, as we all know, is the only kind of small town that exists. You're better off turning to the aforementioned Steve Lawrence Show (10:00 p.m., CBS), with Steve's guests, Trini Lopez, Caterina Valente, and Judi Rolin.

I think Tuesday's episode of Combat! (7:30 p.m., ABC) raises some interesting points we don't often think about in World War II dramas: Saunders' squad replacements include three privates nearing 40: one is homesick for his family, another is a limping veteran, and the third a former politician looking for a resume padder. Saunders is exasperated, as are the other members of the squad, and here's my point: as troops continue to fall and are replaced, there must have come a time when the GIs started to wonder just how many men were left back in the States, and whether or not they might actually be running out of them. It's seen even more strongly a few episodes later, when they encounter German soldiers who are little more than schoolchildren; they are, in fact, all the Germans have left to offer. The whole thing is frightening when you stop to consider it.

Later on Tuesday, a CBS News Special (10:00 p.m.) takes a backstage look at Frank Sinatra, in a special that's created controversy before it's even aired. As Henry Harding reports, Sinatra was displeased with questions about his personal life asked by host Walter Cronkite, questions which Sinatra "politely, but firmly," refused to answer. Shortly thereafter, CBS News received a letter from Sinatra's lawyer "withdrawing permission to use film footage in which he appeared." Says one of his press agents, "Consent was originally granted when Sinatra was led to believe that the program would be a commentary on his career as an entertainer in the same manner in which the network did news specials on the careers of Pablo Casals, Isaac Stern and Marian Anderson." CBS counters that the special is a news presentation, not an entertainment special, and doesn't require any permission to air the footage. The documentary does air, and apparently the aftereffects aren't too lasting; his Emmy-nominated 1969 special runs on CBS. Andy Rooney, by the way, wrote the script for tonight's show.

Bob Hope plays a thinly disguised version of himself in the Chrysler Theatre presentation "Russian Roulette" (Wednesday, 9:00 p.m., NBC). It seems that comedian Les Haines (Hope), on his way to Russia as part of a cultural exchange group, gets mixed up with espionage and a glamorous secret agent, played by Jill St. John. Don Rickles, Victor Buono, Harold J. Stone, and Leon Askin round out a terrific supporting cast; Bing Crosby, alas, is nowhere to be seen. Hope co-authored the story on which the script is based. If you want your totalitarian stories without comedy, tune in for KSHL's late movie (boy, they've got a good lineup this week), the 1956 British adaptation of 1984, starring Michael Redgrave and Edmond O'Brien. (11:30 p.m.)

The circus is coming to town on Thursday, as Ed Wynn and his three granddaughters host a rare performance of the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, taped in Seattle. (7:30 p.m., NBC) At 9:00 p.m., it's the excellent crime thriller Experiment in Terror (CBS), starring Glenn Ford, Lee Remick, and Stefanie Powers in the story of a woman being forced by a criminal to embezzle from her bank employer. If she doesn't agree, her sister dies. And in the night's highlight, the Hallmark Hall of Fame is back with Melvyn Douglas and Ed Begley in "Inherit the Wind" (9:30 p.m., NBC) the dramatization of the Scopes monkey trial of 1925. You can insert my obligatory complaint about the diminished quality of Hallmark television presentations here. 

Friday night, it's the return of the marvelous Michael Dunn as Dr. Loveless on The Wild Wild West (7:30 p.m., CBS), and this time he's accompanied by Richard Kiel as Voltaire. It doesn't get much better than that, does it? There's some primetime sports on tap, as KTVU has San Francisco Warriors basketball; tonight, the Warriors, let by Rick Barry and Nate Thurmond, take on Jerry West, Elgin Baylor, and the Los Angeles Lakers, live from Los Angeles. (8:30 p.m.) And much later, on the unfortunate final season of The Farmer's Daughter (9:30 p.m., ABC), Glen and Kate find trouble on their honeymoon when their hotel is besieged by a rock star trying to escape his fans; Judy Carne is among the costars. 

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Now, you didn't think we'd forget that Joey Heatherton is on the cover of this week's issue, did you? Of course not; don't be ridiculous. In fact, we'd be rather shirking our duties as a cultural archaeologist to overlook the inside spread, in which we get not only a look at the progress of Joey's career, but at some of the threads she's modeling, courtesy of such designers as Carl, Golo, and Capezio.

Twenty-one-year-old Davenie Johanna Heatherton, the article tells us, is "the archetypal 'pop culture' chickie, and that’s all there is to it: lithe, white-blonde, kinetic, shapely and young—permanently young." As far as being the arbiter of cultural style, "If there’s a rhythm and flavor to these particular years in the United States, she’s in touch with it." She's acted in various television series—Mr. Novak, The Virginian, The Nurses, Breaking Point—but it's the dancing, whether she's doing the Frug, the Watusi, the Jerk, the Chicken, the Pony, the Boston, the Monkey, the Philadelphia—that's what stays in the imagination, long after the other young, blonde actresses have come and gone. "It’s an outlet," she says of pop rock dance. "We’re working out our problems. You get a bad mark in school, you come home, turn on the radio, and let it out."

She was a sensation last summer, when she joined Bob Hope's company touring the Dominican Republic entertaining the troops, and she'll be going with him this December to Vietnam. She still remembers the reaction from those young soldiers: "I just walked out on the stage and they went ape. I wore, you know, a leotard and boots. They were all so googly-eyed. I sang the lines, ‘Im just a little girl who’s looking for a little boy,’ and some of them started running up on the stage. The MP’s had to head them off." Expect a similar reaction in Vietnam.

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MST3K alert: It Conquered the World (1956) Scientists discover that an outer-space monster has arrived from Venus to destroy Earth. Peter Graves, Lee Van Cleef, Beverly Garland. (Saturday, 5:30 p.m., KCRA) "He learned almost too late that man is a feeling creature. . . and, because of it, the greatest in the universe. He learned too late for himself that men have to find their own way, to make their own mistakes. There can't be any gift of perfection from outside ourselves. And when men seek such perfection. . . they find only death. . . fire. . . loss. . . disillusionment. . .  the end of everything that's gone forward. Men have always sought an end to the toil and misery, but it can't be given, it has to be achieved. There is hope, but it has to come from inside—from man himself." TV

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