This week in TV Guide: March 17, 1973

You probably don't recognize the name Robert Alan Aurthur; it stands out for me because he wrote two of the episodes that appear in my upcoming book. While he never attained the fame of, say, Rod Serling, Reginald Rose, or Paddy Chayefsky, he was one of television's more prolific playwrights, writer of more than 20 teleplays for Golden Age-anthology series such as Philco-Goodyear Playhouse, Studio One, and Playhouse 90. This week, in a new series of articles called "The Way It Was," Aurthur shares some memories of working in the early days of television, especially one particular script for Philco Playhouse.

We often hear that term, "Golden Age" bandied about — I used it up there myself. And Aurthur is among the first to say that not everything that aired during that era was great. "Only some were great. Some were terrible. Most were just OK. But in each and every one we aspired, quality limited only by individual ability." That's a pretty good way to describe the era, I think. Writers wanted to produce high-quality work, even when they didn't. And, Aurthur points out, everything in those early years of anthologies was live. No repeats, no do-overs, no pauses in the action. And speaking of action, there were "No shoot-outs or punch-ups to resolve hokey melodrama — and no cars. In some 30 hours of drama I never wrote an automobile scene, and except perhaps for a walk-on or bit I never wrote a part for a doctor, lawyer or cop." I don't think network television could survive today under those limitations.

To illustrate what it was like back in those days, Aurthur points to a 1955 Philco script called "A Man is Ten Feet Tall." You might have heard of that, even if you don't know (or remember) what it was about. The inspiration for the drama, Aurthur says, came from a trip to the movies he made with a fellow writer, where he saw Blackboard Jungle, starring a young Sidney Poitier. He was struck by Poitier's work, his presence on the screen; he was also depressed that an actor of such obviou talent had such limited opportunities, merely because of the color of his skin. He remembered a short story he wrote, some years past, which could be adapted into a television play that could serve as a vehicle for Poitier.

In those days, he says, "there were no committees to convince, no network officials to consult, no elaborate outlines to write." He had only to convince the producer, Gordon Duff, who gave it the go-ahead with one provision: he couldn't ever remember a black actor playing the lead in a television play. His suggestion: "Write it without describing the guy as a Negro. Then, after we cast Poitier, it'll be too late for anyone to complain." As events transpired, Philco was to be cancelled at the end of the season, concluding an eight-season run; it was decided that "A Man is Ten Feet Tall" would be the final production. (Remarkably, the kinescope exists; why not check it out here?)

Poitier and Aurthur on the set of The Lost Man  

Poitier's agent was onboard; the actor would be paid top dollar for the show, $1,000. Philco was no problem; they were only "moderately nervous" about the play. The problem turned out to be NBC — they were nervous that Poitier had once been on the blacklist, and was therefore unacceptable. Duff was outraged, and demanded a meeting with network officials and Poitier. Aurthur was not part of the meeting (Duff was "afraid I'd punch a lawyer"), but Poitier appeared, with great reluctance. Questioned about his relationship with Canada Lee, a black actor and activist, with whom Poitier had worked in South Africa in Cry, the Beloved Country. As Poitier recalled how they were allowed in the country only as indentured servants to the film's producer, he broke down crying, and fled the room. 

Aurthur informed the network that if there were any further questions about politics, he and Duff would notify the newspapers of the story. The network readily agreed that if he could talk Poitier into accepting the role, there would be no more questions. After a great deal of persuasion, he finally agreed to take the role, for $2,000. "A little revenge for Sid, cheap enough for us." Aurthur was kept busy with rewrites right up until the time of broadcast. It was a huge success; Aurthur recounts receiving more than 1,100 cards, letters, and telegrams in praise of the play; it wound up winning seven awards. On the flip side, two Southern newspapers called Aurthur a Communist, six Philco distributors threatened to cancel their franchises, and 6,000 people signed a petition saying they'd never watch the show again. Of course, since this was the last episode, it was a hollow threat.

That says a lot about what television, and American culture, was like in 1955. It's an example of one of the prime reasons this blog exists — to illustrate how much we can learn about America through television; not just racial issues, but so many other things as well. As for the power of TV, Aurthur concludes with what he called "the most thrilling moment," which came the night after the show aired. He received a phone call about 8 p.m. from Poitier, calling from a Harlem drugstore. He'd ducked in there to get some space from a mob who'd seen the play and wanted to tell him how much they'd liked it. "Listen to them," he shouted. "They're right outside the booth." He told the fans, "I'm talking to the guy who wrote it. Tell him what yiou think." Aurthur could hear loud cheering on the other end of the line. "Sidney laughed, and then he said, "Hey babe, I'm glad we did it." 

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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. 

A Touch of Grace, ABC's new sitcom, is graced, if you will, with two exceptional actors: Shirley Booth, "who can be counted on always to special-deliver" her lines; and J. Pat O'Malley, so fine an actor that "he can make something of nothing." Unfortunately, as Cleveland Amory found out, nothing is plentiful in this lame knockoff of the British series For the Love of Ada, and that begins with anyone in the cast who isn't name Booth or O'Malley.  

The premise finds Grace Simpson (Booth), living with her daughter and son-in-law, played by Marian Mercer and Warren Berlinger, who — for comic effect, we assume — are "so square they are less funny than pathethic." Berlinger is Walter, a hen-pecked husband who works at a supermarket "and is always taking about things like celery and radishes — which the writers think should be funny," while the status-conscious Myra mother-hens her mother by "always worrying about Grace's beau (Herbert, played by O'Malley) not being a gentleman." Grace, of course, is the complete opposite, sprightly and full of fun. O'Malley's punchline is that he works as a gravedigger, and he makes the most of it, especially in his readings of headstone incriptions; he is, says Cleve, "a riot."

The problem, as we've seen, is that Booth and O'Malley have nothing to work with. The plots are what belong in the graveyard, posits Amory; "If it's possible to base a whole episode on what is a tasteless idea to begin with, these writers will do it." One plot dealt with Grace giving Herbert her late husband's suit and watch, outraging Myra; another week will center on Herbert wanting to take Grace on a trip to Sausalito, outraging Myra; a third features Grace, wanting to show she can still support herself, getting a job as a ladies'-room attendant, outraging Myra. Well, you get the idea. Never far from the surface, Amory complains, are "Two Basic Jokes": one, that old people having sex is funny; and two, that Grace's life is unfulfilled because she's not yet a grandmother. If anyone can make these work, it's Booth and O'Malley, but too often "it makes you feel fabuely uncomfortable, if not downright annoyed." On the heels of All in the Family and Sanford and Son, the producers must have thought another American adaptation of a British sitcom would be a similar hit; 13 episodes later, they found out otherwise. Television, Cleve says, has plenty of room for a seniors' sitcom, but "this isn't it." 

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I know you're going to find this hard to believe, but Hollywood studios have been hit by a movie and TV writers' strike. (Imagine that.) According to Richard K. Doan, Writers Guild members are predicting the strike (the first one since the five-month long strike in 1960) could last for weeks, or even months; the networks are already foreseeing "utter chaos" with the fall season. Up to now, there had been general agreement that the new season would begin on September 10, but that's all in flux. What appears to be more certain is that some "tryout" shows planned for the summer may have to be shelved. In the event, the strike lasts for 111 days; it doesn't have a catastrophic effect; ten weeks in, more than 150 independent producers (comprising more than 50 percent of primetime television) have signed the new contract, with the boycott pared back to just the major studios.

Elsewhere in The Doan Report, Broadway producer Joseph Papp is engaged in a bitter dispute with CBS over a postponement of the planned March 9 presentation of Sticks and Bones, an antiwar drama about a blind Vietnam veteran's unhappy homecoming. According to the network, 69 of 184 affiliates had already refused to air the movie after having viewed a preview showing; the network suggested it might reschedule after the POW homecomings. Papp replied that it was a "cowardly cop-out" and threatened to renege on his four-year contract with the network. Sticks and Bones does eventually air later in the year, with 94 affiliates refusing to show it (in eight cities, it was carried by non-CBS affiliates). I wrote about this a couple of years ago; in the key quote, "One CBS insider, who said that the show was 'not even good drama,' guessed that 'the tune-out in the first half hour must have been astronomical.' " 

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It's that time of the year, when pilots come out of hibernation and vie for a coveted spot on the fall network schedule, and Saturday sees a pair of "world premiere" presentations on NBC, beginning with The Magician (8:00 p.m. ET), starring Bill Bixby as a magician who uses his art to help others. That one does make the fall lineup; the same can't be said for Jarrett (9:30 p.m.), a tongue-in-cheek detective series starring Glenn Ford as a P.I. specializing in fine-arts cases. Did the network make the right decisions? Check them out for yourself and see.

Buckley interviewing Smith on Firing Line

On Sunday, Bob Cromie's Book Beat (7:30 p.m, PBS) features convicted murderer Edgar Smith, author of Getting Out, the story of his 15-year quest for freedom that ended with his release in 1971. Actually, I should describe it this way: Edgar Smith, the convicted murderer who duped William F. Buckley Jr. into believing his story that he was an innocent man wrongly convicted. Smith had been found guilty and sentenced to death for the 1957 murder of a 15-year-old girl. While on death row, he started a correspondence with Buckley, who, convinced of Smith's innocence, financed a legal team to advocate for Smith's innocence. His conviction was overturned, and in a plea bargan deal he pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in return for being released for time served. In 1976, Smith kidnapped and murdered a 33-year-old woman. Smith called Buckley for help, but Buckley, realizing he'd been wrong, instead called the FBI and Smith was arrested and convicted of murder, confessing in prison that he had, in fact, committed the 1957 murder as well. He was sentenced to life, and died in prison in 2017. 

A CBS News Special on Monday looks at a prime example of how some things never change; "The Long War" between Congress and the Presidency over issues such as war decisions and spending authority. (10:00 p.m.) If this sounds familiar, it's because this is a conflict that dates back to the nation's birth. Since this is only a one-hour report, reporters Dan Rather and Roger Mudd are limited to looking back at conflicts between Congress and Presidents Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon, but if you think what we're seeing today is new, you've got another think coming.

Another pilot made good can be seen on Tuesday, in the movie The Police Story (8:00 p.m., NBC), with Vic Morrow starring as a tough cop working on a team set up to crash crimes as they're being committed. Chuck Connors is the chief bad guy, and the supporting cast includes Ed Asner, Harry Guardino, and Diane Baker; minus the article in the title, the anthology series debuts in the fall as Police Story. And speaking of criminals, the made-for-TV movie Beg, Borrow . . . Or Steal (8:30 p.m, ABC) featuers some nice stunt casting, with Mike Connors of Mannix, Michael Cole of The Mod Squad, and Kent McCord of Adam-12 as three man planning a museum robbery. Hmm; I wonder if this fine-art robbery will be investigated by Glenn Ford?

Another successful pilot! On Wednesday, Tony Musante stars as Toma, based on the real-life story of a detective who uses his talent for disguise to infiltrate a gambling ring. (8:30 p.m., ABC) In one of the more famous examples of such, Musante quits the series after one season, saying that he had never intended to do the series any longer than that; despite entreaties from the network, including an offer to convert Toma into a series of occasional specials, Musante sticks to his guns, and Toma eventurally morphs into Baretta, starring Robert Blake. Following that, Owen Marshall, Counselor at Law (10:00 p.m., ABC) gives us an prime example of how legal dramas of the 1970s are handling more controversial, contemporary issues: "Lesbian seduction is the charge as Marshall defends a diving champion accused of seducing a teen-age girl." You're not going to see that on Perry Mason!

Thursday's highlight comes from the world of syndicated repeats, as The Twilight Zone (9:30 p.m., Channel 27) airs the classic episode "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet," with William Shatner hamming it up as the man convinced he sees a creature on the wing of an airliner; the way Shatner chews the scenery, I'm surprised the plane had any wings left. Elsewhere, Jimmy Stewart and Frank Sinatra Jr. are the guests on The Dean Martin Show (10:00 p.m., NBC), with one of the highlights being a skit in which Jimmy and Dean report being robbed by a gang of nudists. 

Greg and Marcia stage a knife fight to the death for an attic bedroom that ends in tragedy for The Brady Bunch. (Friday, 8:00 p.m., ABC) Actually, I'm exaggerating a bit about the storyline—can you tell I'm getting bored here?—but you have to admit that this sounds a little more exciting, doesn't it? And CBS has a failed pilot, Gene Roddenberry's Genesis II, as its Friday night movie. (9:30 p.m.) Better to go for The Bobby Darin Show (10:00 p.m., NBC), with Bobby's guests Sid Caesar, Dusty Springfield, Jackie Joseph, and the a cappella soul group the Persuasions.

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This week's Eastern New England edition has a full-page ad for Chuck Scarborough, anchor of WNAC's 6:00 and 11:00 p.m. news. It's the first major-market anchor job for Scarborough, who joined WNAC last year, and in the two years he worked in Boston he took the station to first place in the ratings. From there, he moved on to WNBC, where he became co-anchor of the station's 6:00 and 11:00 news, in addition to doing occasional reports and prime-time updates, for the network.

I mention this all because last December, Chuck Scarborough retired from WNBC after 50 years as their anchorman. It was only in 2017 that he cut back his schedule to only working the 6:00 news; even then, he'd occasionally fill in at 11:00. (His anchor partner, Sue Simmons, had retired in 2012 after having worked with Scarborough since 1980.) When he retired, it was as the longest-serving anchorman in New York television history. Here, we get to see him in his early years, destined for greater things. But who knew the kind of career he'd have?

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MST3K alert: The Black Scorpion (1957) features excellent special effects by Willis O'Brien (King Kong). It's about mammoth man-eating creatures that terrorize Mexico City. Richard Denning, Mara Corday, Carlos Rivas. (Wednesday, 11:30 p.m., CBS) It's not often that we're graced with a review by Judith Crist, but it isn't often that an MST3K movie gets a network run, albeit in the late-night spot. It's "a 1957 sci-fi with creaky oversized bugs out to rule the world, staring in Mexico. They lose — but nobdy watching wins." She's right, of course, which is why it winds up on MST3K — and that means everybody wins. TV  

Around the dial

Let's start this week at Comfort TV, where, in the wake of Gene Hackman's death, David wonders what would have happened had Sherwood Schwartz gotten his way and cast Hackman as Mike Brady in The Brady Bunch.

At Cult TV Blog, John returns to the idea of devoting a series of posts to a single actor in different roles. In this case, it's the actress Sylvia Coleridge, with many Brit TV credits to her name. For this first piece, we look at her in Who Dares Win from 1983.

In other Brit TV, it's back to The View from the Junkyard and Roger's latest New Avengers review. This week, it's the episode "Dirtier by the Dozen," and if you're tempted to think of the movie with a similar name, it's no accident: it's a grim look at war, violence, and the "just following orders" mentality.

At Travalanche, it's a look back at the life and times of the legendary Willard Scott, best known as the weatherman on The Today Show, but with many more credits to his name, from Bozo the Clown to the original Ronald McDonald. You'll find he's quite a character.

If you're in the market for Adam West's Batman Utility Belt, you're in luck! It's just one of the many TV props up for bids at the Los Angeles Spring 2025 Entertainment Memorabilia Live Auction, and you can read all about them over at Television Obscurities.

At A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence plays tribute to a pair of actresses with considerable credits in classic television: Jan Shepard, who died in January aged 96; and Olive Sturgess, who died last month aged 91. Read more about them, and learn about their legacy.

Martin Grams has a quartet of reviews of the latest entertainment books from Bear Manor Media, including biographies of Cary Grant, Boris Karloff, Joe E. Brown, and James Cagney. Their inventory is always worth looking at; I have a book from them myself that I'll be reviewing shortly.

 

At Drunk TV, Paul is back with a look at season one of the 1950s series Sergeant Preston of the Yukon, starring Richard Simmons (no, not that one( as the stouthearted Mountie sergeant. It's good fun, and also an example of an early all-color series. 

Finally, at Classic Film and TV Corner, Maddie takes a fond trip down memory lane to the third Doctor Who, Jon Pertwee. Pertwee played the Doctor with style and elan, and led the show into the modern, color era. It's a perfect example of the show the way it was meant to be. TV  

The It's About TV Interview: Alan Hayes, co-author of Escapades—An Exploration of Avengers Curiosities

It's been awhile since we've done an interview here, and I can't think of anyone better to rectify that than my friend Alan Hayes. I first met Alan through his late, lamented website The Avengers Declassified, but now I'm happy to bring him back as the co-author of the new book Escapades—An Exploration of Avengers Curiosities, which, true to its title, delves into various offshoots of the series, including stage, radio and comic book adaptations. It's so new, in fact, it was just published this past Monday.

For some reason which I still can't quite fathom, Alan agreed to be the latest victim—that is, subject—of the "It's About TV Interview." I think—no, I know—you'll enjoy our conversation, which has been lightly edited for clarity.

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It's About TV: What was your introduction to The Avengers?

 

Alan Hayes: Somehow, despite being born in the 1960s, I didn't learn about The Avengers until the color Emma Peel episodes screened on the UK TV station Channel 4 in the early 1980s. Perhaps bizarrely though, I had watched The New Avengers—its sequel—on first transmission in 1976 and 1977 and absolutely adored it. I wanted to be Mike Gambit but I was a bit of a nerd and about as convincing a Gambit as Woody Allen would have been! My unquestioning nature didn't lead me to think "Why is this called The NEW Avengers?"—it never occurred to me that there was a previous incarnation of the show. The penny dropped with those Channel 4 showings.

 

I quickly came to enjoy those earlier adventures too and it grew into a favourite series, particularly when I met and eventually married a young woman who was just as enthusiastic about The Avengers and other shows I loved as I was. We both found it an incredibly enjoyable, witty and interesting show, and along with Doctor Who, The Prisoner, The Persuaders!, Kolchak: The Night Stalker and Dark Shadows, it became an integral part of our lives.

 

At some point, though, your appreciation of the show went beyond that of simply being a fan, right? How did that happen?

 

It started when I went on to produce a series of websites about The Avengers, normally about leftfield aspects of the show—the lost first season, the South African radio series (much of which my wife and I recovered and restored, though much of it remains lost), the doomed 1971 Birmingham/London stage show... the list goes on. These were all ultimately brought together into one, monster-big website, The Avengers Declassified, which you can probably find now via Wayback Machine! So, the Avengers websites are all gone, but I thought, "What can I do with all that great content?" The answer was go back to it, undertake further research, improve, expand it, and take it to the next level—and to a publisher!

 

Although I’d set up The Avengers Declassified as an all-encompassing Avengers resource, it didn't really develop along those lines as I found writing about things that others had either ignored or barely touched upon far more rewarding. That's why Richard McGinlay and I investigated the lost first season and ended up writing a book about it rather than going in-depth about, for instance, the color Emma Peel shows which were covered so well elsewhere. I'd already produced a website about the radio series, and Declassified followed its lead, checking out things that Avengers fans probably hadn't even thought of looking for. In a way, that's what Escapades is about—proving that while the series is more than sixty years old now, there are still plenty of fun things to explore, about it and the pop culture it influenced.

 

Escapades isn’t your first book about The Avengers, though. Tell us a little about your other books.

 

Yes, happy to. Avengerworld: The Avengers in Our Lives was a fan anthology which I edited, comprising essays written by forty Avengers fans in which they revealed how the series had touched their lives and led them to do amazing and interesting things. The book was published in aid of a charity supporting a primary school in Southern Tanzania and proceeds paid for a water harvesting system to be installed there. Just thinking of that makes me smile. I later co-edited a similar book about ITC spy series—Playboys, Spies and Private Eyes: Inspired by ITC—and this is available from Quoit Media, with proceeds going to Born Free.

 

I've also co-written two books with Richard McGinlay, one about the first season of The Avengers, Two Against the Underworld—The Collected Unauthorised Guide to The Avengers Series 1, and the other about the series that inspired The Avengers, Police Surgeon. Entitled Dr Brent's Casebook—An Unauthorised Guide to Police Surgeon, this explores in depth the short-lived series that today is almost entirely lost. These and other books are available via www.hiddentiger.culttv.uk

 

But Escapades is a little different from these books, and from other books and websites about The Avengers.  

 

I have to be honest and say that there are many Avengers books and websites out there and I'd happily recommend a great many of them but the last thing I've ever wanted to do is just present my twist on the episode guide or the location tour; I've always been keen to explore the less well walked paths—and in JZ Ferguson I found a great co-author who was interested in doing the same.

 

JZ and I have looked at aspects of the series that simply haven't been covered elsewhere—at least beyond Declassified, where some of the chapters began their lives, but even those have been expanded and improved. There are chapters about the Brian Clemens Avengers revivals, plus others that look at the Diana Rigg 8mm films made in Germany and Spain in the late 1960s, the South African radio series, the Avengers stage play, unmade television scripts for the Emma Peel colour season and The New Avengers, and even a Mexican 'luchadoras' wrestling movie featuring barely disguised Cybernauts! The chapters and others go in depth about one particular 'curiosity' and uncover much about these often unusual parts of The Avengers story.

 

You mentioned your co-author, JZ. As a writer myself, I’m always interested in how collaborations work; how did yours develop?

 

JZ’d written a couple of pieces for The Avengers Declassified that focused on Brian Clemens' attempts to revive the series in the 1980s and initially I asked if she'd mind if I used them in the book I was beginning to put together. JZ was happy for them to be included on the proviso that I would allow her to revisit the text and rewrite where she felt necessary, which of course I was pleased to agree to.

 

As we discussed the book and its possibilities, I quickly realised I'd found the perfect co-author for the project (which I'm pleased to say was exactly the case in practice). The collaboration was such that, with JZ's input, the book developed considerably from what was effectively "the best of a dead website" into something with much more of an identity of its own.

 

In terms of how the work was divided up, we each tackled subjects that particularly interested us, wrote those chapters individually, and then each fed back on the other's work, taking on board the comments and ideas of the other. Hopefully JZ thinks the same, but I have no qualms in saying that my own chapters were greatly improved thanks to her valued input.

 

Were there things you discovered that surprised you, as a fan of the show?

 

It's actually been a fascinating process. Several of the subjects chosen have long intrigued me as a fan of the series and have always been more than a bit mysterious. What inspired Diana Rigg to make those 8mm movies? Why was the stage play considered a flop? What could The Avengers have been like if it had been revived on TV or the silver screen in the decade after The New Avengers? It's been thrilling to have been able to explore many such questions in great depth, particularly regarding productions that other books and websites have touched upon but only in passing, as—quite rightly—they were not their main focus.

 

Was there any type of information out there that served as a kind of Holy Grail for you, that you thought you might not ever discover?

 

Getting an interview with the director of the Minikillers 8mm film would qualify in that respect, though when I spoke to Wolfgang von Chmielewski in 2009, it didn't occur to me just how lucky I was. I think my discussions with him represent the only interview he gave on the subject, and sadly he passed away in 2021. Likewise, two other important contributors have also passed since I spoke to them for the research that led into the book—Donald Monat (the radio Steed) and Simon Oates (Steed in the stage play). It's good to include their voices in this book, and Escapades is dedicated to the memory of these three fabulous gentlemen.

 

What do you think readers will discover in the book that they weren't aware of, or that might surprise them? That "Wow, I didn't know that!" moment?

 

JZ and I hope the answer to that is "Lots and lots of things"—but I think all the chapters abound with new and interesting material. We've certainly learned plenty about The Avengers in writing Escapades and hopefully even the most ardent fans of the series will come away from reading the book with a deeper understanding of the productions we discuss.

 

Is there anything out there that you're continuing to look for, that would really cap off your research?

 

I'd be delighted if further episodes of the Avengers radio series were recovered, but since I was involved in the recovery and restoration of the surviving 19-and-a-bit serials many years ago, nothing further has come to light. But there's always hope...

 

Looking at The Avengers as a whole, where do you think it fits into the television pantheon, especially in England?

 

I don't think the impact of The Avengers can be understated. It was on the scene before the James Bond films truly launched the spy boom in the early 1960s. It blazed the trail for the representation of women as strong characters in television, showed that they could be the equal of or better than their male equivalents in TV drama. It was one of the few British TV series that broke into the American networks and became a global phenomenon.

 

I suppose you've been asked this many times, but do you have a favorite episode? A favorite companion for Steed?

 

I do get asked that a lot and I'm always very boring and say that I don't really. There are many episodes that I adore, but if I nominated a favourite it'd be a different one next week and again the week after! I'm particularly fond of the very early episodes from the videotaped era, particularly the Ian Hendry episodes I know I will likely never see as they are lost, the monochrome Emma Peel season (favourites among that one would be 'A Surfeit of H2O', 'Too Many Christmas Trees' and 'The Hour That Never Was') and The New Avengers (from that 'Target!', 'Cat Amongst the Pigeons' and 'Sleeper'). And I adore the radio series beyond my capability for words—which is an awful admission from a writer!

 

As for a favourite partner for Steed, I'd take two: Purdey and Gambit, both of whom are peerless to my mind, and with Steed make a great team.

 

Alan Hayes

Supposing that you could reboot The Avengers today, a la Doctor Who, would it work? How would the series change? And who would you have playing the leads?

 

I'm not sure The Avengers really could be brought back without seeming to be a copy of so many other things that in many ways it originally inspired. I think the 1998 movie signalled that you couldn't put it on the big screen without it trying to emulate James Bond—which is something it never was—and Doctor Who seems unable to escape the idea that it has to compete with big screen blockbusters albeit on a paltry budget to the point where it compromises what made the series successful in the first place. I'd be sad to see The Avengers twisted to the point that it wasn't really The Avengers any more. I'd prefer the Emma Peels, Tara Kings and The New Avengers to be restored in 4K, released, rebroadcast and find a new generation of fans that way. But I'm probably hugely naive!

 

What’s next for Alan Hayes?

 

My focus these last couple of years has been heavily on the Escapades book, so I'm taking the opportunity for a breather—just pottering around on my Randall and Hopkirk (Declassified) website, which covers a British series that US TV fans might remember better as My Partner the Ghost. Since we completed Escapades, JZ has been writing for a book about children's television with Rodney Marshall (son of The Avengers writer Roger Marshall), and I'm waiting until inspiration for my next writing project presents itself. If Escapades ends up being the last book I write—which is quite possible—then it's one that I'm very proud of and which was a thoroughly enjoyable collaboration with a fabulous writer and friend. I think together we've shown that it's possible to write something fresh and new about a television series that debuted in 1961 and has been much studied. I'll take that!

 

Escapades—An Exploration of Avengers Curiosities was published in the United Kingdom in paperback on Monday March 10 2025. US purchasers are advised to purchase via ebay soon after the publication date as this will ease the journey through Customs. Otherwise, purchases and enquiries can be made at quoitmedia.co.uk. TV  

What's on TV? Saturday, March 8, 1969

We've got a light schedule today, given that the educational stations in the Bay Area don't program on Saturday (which explains why some familiar stations might be missing), but that doesn't mean there isn't something worth watching. Remember Roller Derby? It's no surprise to see it on in this Northern California edition, given that the San Francisco Bay Bombers are one of the signature teams in Roller Derby. But almost every market we look at in the late 1960s has a station carrying it, usually on Saturday afternoons. I was so taken with it that I sent in a postcard to get on their mailing list, and I almost never did that kind of thing when I was a kid. And then, for numerous reasons, it disappeared. It exists today in a different format, and with not nearly the following it once had, but if you want to relive those days, there's a nifty documentary set available on DVD. Or you can just check it out on YouTube. Ah, those were the days.

This week in TV Guide: March 8, 1969

There have been, in my humble opinion, very few comedians funnier than Jonathan Winters. He's one of a select group who can make me laugh out loud while I'm watching television, which doesn't happen often; and he seems to have a limitless fount of creativity, from which he draws with reckless abandon. One thing he doesn't do, though, is talk about himself, about the creative process behind his many characterizations, and about what they mean to him. 

Until now, when he sits down with Edith Efron to gives readers a rare and intimate look inside the creative process that produces what you see on television and in nightclubs. "Art," Winters says, "is a way of hiding." Speaking of comedians, he says that "we express ourselves indirectly through art," and that, in his case, behind the laughter, his vast array of characters are saying something serious that Winters himself has been reluctant to voice. 

As an example, he speaks of his most famous character, Maude Frickert, whom he describes as grass-roots, "the Plymouth Rock, 'The Star-Spangled Banner,' Valley Forge—she's American history." "She's a fighter," he adds. "In a way, she's putting down a weaker generation. She's saying, 'Let's shape up.' She hates to miss out on anything, but she draws the line at the 'living-it-up' attitude: the acid, the grass. She's against that." In essence, she's saying to people, "What’s happening here? What's happened to the spirit of 76?"

The same can be said of Elwood P. Suggins, who, Winters says, "represents some kind of fundamental common sense—you're laughing at him, but with him at the same time. He’s a square—an innocent guy—a diamond in the rough." While he's not superficially like Granny (he "hasn't got the aggression Granny has. He's much more sentimental.") he's of the same type: "He's just as American as she is. He’s grass-roots. He’s '76."

And then there's Howard Ganglinger, who represents "a combination of Kiwanis, Masonic, Lions—all organizations wrapped into one." Winters does not have the same respect for him as he does for Granny and Suggins; "Basically he's a weak man. He's a conformist" who has given up on America. "This guy believes it's the fall of the Roman Empire. . .He feels that America has been sold out. That's it in a nutshell. He’s bitter and it shows. He’s constantly telling people what's wrong with the country." Maynard Tetlinger, another of his characters, is "just as much Americana as Suggins and Frickert and Ganglinger," "the type of guy that still gets up—as old as he is—at a baseball or a football game and sings 'The Star-Spangled Banner.' There’s still something that goes through him when the band passes on the Fourth of July."

Efron notes that "under all these disguises," it is obviously Winters himself speaking, and asks him what he's trying to say. "I'm expressing a deep love for my country. I’m an American all the way. When I saw the American flag being burned in New York and in San Francisco, I wrote to my senator, for the first time. I sat down and I wrote a long letter. I said in it: 'What’s happening? Why is this being allowed?' " Coming back to a theme that his characters voice of "something being lost," he quotes Theodore Roosevelt on the importance of the man "in the arena," of knowing that "if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that he’ll never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."

Asked why he hasn't come out and said these things in his own voice, preferring instead to address it obliquely through his characters, he admits that he's worried about the effect his conservative words might have on his career. "It seems to me that I am outnumbered. I find as I look around me that I'm in a minority with my views. . . I've thought it could harm me professionally to speak out." He's telling Efron these things, in part, because she's asking him questions "that very few people in the press have ever asked me." His characters, he says, had become something of a crutch, but after having spent a great deal of time thinking about it, "I've suddenly decided: I'm through running scared. I don't have to run frightened, regardless of what happens in the country." And now is the time, he feels, to speak up: I see revolutionaries . . .I see freedom under attack, free enterprise under attack . . . I see people mixed up. They're coming to a stage where they're wondering: should we accept democracy or should we accept socialism; should we accept Communism?" 

This, he concludes, is the "real" Jonathan Winters. "The time has come to stand up and be counted, to get into the arena. . . .That's it. That's everything."

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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: Tentatively scheduled guests: Carol Lawrence, comedian Norm Crosby, Greg Morris of Mission: Impossible, singer Jeannie C. Riley, the Association (singing "Goodby Columbus"), the American Legion drill team, and the novelty act of Valenti and Valento. (Actual lineup also includes Creedence Clearwater Revival, Mickey Mantle, and impressionist.)

Palace: Diana Ross and the Supremes introduce guests Ethel Waters, Stevie Wonder, comics Soupy Sales and Sammy Shore, dancer Donald McKayle and the comic Saddri Dancers. Diana and the Supremes perform "With a Song in My Heart," "Stranger in Paradise," "Without a Song"; and a medley including "Let's Get Away from It All," "The Lady Is a Tramp," "Day After Day," "I’m Living in Shame."   

Ed had a very good lineup to start with, from Carol Lawrence to Greg Morris, and the addition of CCR and Mickey Mantle strengthens it. While the Palace lineup is good enough, I can't say that any of their guests really knock me over; as you probably know, while I don't hate the Supremes, I was never their biggest fan, and the same could be said for Stevie Wonder and Soupy Sales. What that does leave us with Mantle in the cleanup spot, and a home run for 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. 

The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau is, according to Cleveland Amory, perhaps the best dramatic show on television, with "more drama in it than half a dozen average series shows." I suppose that could be taken as a low bar for success, but there's a lot to be said for a program that can make the life cycle of the giant sea turtle, a topic I wouldn't ordinarily be particularly interested in, nothing less than fascinating.

The Undersea World may take place below the surface, but it succeeds on many levels. The underwater photography, as one would expect, is "remarkable," and it's matched by the narration by Cousteau and Rod Serling, as well as the stories themselves. It is, says Amory, "a truly rare combination of technical and scientific know-how mixed with humane and even poetic understanding." In addition to the saga of the sea turtle, there was another episode about whales, and a third on the raising as pets of two baby fur seals. With more such episodes on the way—includng one on archaeological exploration of Lake Titicaca in South America, and another discussing how to live underwater—there seems to be no fear that the program will stagnate any time soon. 

Given Amory's intense feelings regarding animal welfare, it's no surprise that such a series meets with his approval. Speaking of the show on turtles, he quotes the narration that "Only man is capable of killing without need," which still doesn't make animals more noble creatures than humans, but does make a point. It's also no surprise that he takes the opportunity to launch yet another not-so-veiled barb against one of his favorite whipping boys, ABC's The American Sportsman.* (ABC, he writes, "still has bloody hands in this field.") Comments like this generally provoke responses, both pro and con, in the letters mailbag; it'd be interesting to look two or three weeks down the road and see what readers have to say. 

*Ironically, or perhaps not, Melvin Durslag writes on The American Sportsman this week, highlighting an episode in which Phil Harris goes pheasant hunting with host Curt Gowdy. "By day’s end, both Phil and the pheasant had shois in them." Regarding criticism of the show, producer Lorne Hassan says that approximately eight percent of their feedback is negative. 

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Here's one of those conundrums that must seem almost incomprehensible to modern sensibilities (not to mention modern sports fans). The NCAA Basketball Tournament—it hadn't yet been branded "March Madness"—gets underway on Saturday with a first-round doubleheader (11:00 a.m. PT, NBC). Later in the day, we have a pair of regular-season games, with San Francisco taking on Pacific (12:30 p.m., KGO and KHSL) and Oregon State facing Oregon (2:30 p.m., KTVU, KXTV, and KHSL). In other words, the tournament starts before the regular season is even over. How can this be?

Well, you have to keep in mind that in 1969, there were only 25 teams in the tournament. There was no seeding involved; conference champions were automatically put in specific geographic regions (e.g. Atlantic Coast and Ivy League in the East, Big Ten and Southeastern in the Mideast, Big Eight and Southwestern in the Midwest, Pac-8 and Western Athletic in the West), and the champions from the biggest conferences received byes into the Round of 16. Furthermore, only one team from each conference made the tournament, and there were no conference tournaments (other than the Atlantic Coast). Therefore, all you had to do was plug in the appropriate namesin the right slot, and if the Big Ten and Pac-8 champions, for example, weren't going to play until next week anyway, there was no reason the tournament couldn't start before their seasons were done.

If this sounds confusing, it's partly because the tournament wasn't such a big deal back then; in fact, the National Invitation Tournament, which is virtually invisible nowadays, had a national television contract long before the NCAA tournament managed to do the same. There were no bracket pools, no saturation coverage everywhere you looked. The tournament setup did make for some awkward situations; there was no reason, for example, why the #1 and #2 teams in the nation couldn't wind up playing each other in a regional semifinal, and one of the reasons why UCLA was so dominant in the decade was that there were only five other teams in the West region. But you know what else? It was, it seems to me, a lot more interesting back then.

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It's another big week for big-screen movies, starting on Saturday with the second showing of Alfred Hitchcock's horror classic The Birds (9:00 p.m., NBC), starring Rod Taylor (as character named "Mitch"? Gotta love that!) and Tippi Hedren, looking dazzling with one of the most cosmopolitan wardrobes in modern movie history. Judith Crist calls it "dull and plotless" except for the terrifying titular characters, but when you have them as your hook, what more do you need?

Another kind of "bird" features on Sunday with the network television premiere of Otto Preminger's religious epic The Cardinal (9:00 p.m., ABC), combining the grandeur (and political intrigue) of the Catholic Church with sex, reform, civil rights, and the looming war. Tom Tryon stars as the young Bostonian headed for the red hat; among the all-star cast, John Huston stands out as the crusty Cardinal Glennon, a role which earned him a richly-deserved Best Supporting Actor nomination. Crist notes that the red-clad "birds" in this movie are, by far, outacted by their malevolent counterparts on Saturday night.

Despite The Cardinal's three-and-a-half hour running time, the movie's 9:00 start allows viewers to watch, in its entirety, the eleventh annual presentation of The Wizard of Oz (Sunday, 7:00 p.m., NBC), Unlike past years, this year's showing is free of a studio host (past hosts included Red Skelton and Danny Kaye), but with an iconic cast including Judy Garland, Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr, Jack Haley, Margaraet Hamilton, and Frank Morgan (not to mention the munchkins) and a memorable musical score, you'll be pleasantly entertained nonetheless.

On Monday, the highlight is 1959's The Last Angry Man (8:00 p.m., KLOC in Modesto), with David Wayne as a television executive trying to convince a ghetto doctor (Paul Muni) to appear on a a new show profiling Americans from around the world. Muni, in his final Oscar-nominated performance, is brilliant as the irascible doctor who's dedicated his life to helping the poor and destitute, while Wayne can't see beyond the potential for ratings. It provides an interesting look at the pressure cooker of 1950s television; it's been a few years since I've seen it, and I ought to watch it again for this site.

Tuesday's movie contribution comes not from the theaters, but is a made-for-TV World Premiere. It's The Whole World Is Watching (9:00 p.m., NBC), the pilot for "The Lawyers" segment of The Bold Ones. It's given a topical pertinence via its premise, with a student activist accused of killing a university policeman during a campus demonstration; its dramatic heft comes from Burl Ives, Joseph Campanella, and James Farentino as the trio of lawyers defending him. Hal Holbrook, Carrie Snodgress, Steve Ihnat, and Stephen McNally round out a strong supporting cast. 

We return to the local scene on Wednesday, with Joseph L. Mankiewicz's acclaimed 1953 adaptation of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (9:00 p.m., KOVR in Sacramento), with Marlon Brando in a surprisingly effectve, Oscar-nominated performance as Mark Antony, James Mason as Brutus, John Gielgud as Cassius, and Louis Calhern as Caesar. Oh, and Edmond O'Brien, Greer Garson, and Deborah Kerr are part of the cast as well. 

Joanne Woodward stars as The Stripper (Thursday, 9:00 p.m., CBS), and it's disappointing to discover that a movie with as provocative a title as that turns out to be, as Crist says, a mishmash "as incredible as it is dull." You'd think you could do better than that, wouldn't you? It's a "sentimental" tale (which is a red light to begin with) of a relationship between Woodward's "down-at-her-heels dancer" and a mother-dominated teen, played by Richard Beymer. Claire Trevor is the mother, and Carol Lynley, Michael J. Pollard, Robert Webber, Louis Nye, and Gypsy Rose Lee support them. 

And what would a big movie week be without something from Elvis? In this case, the something is Harum Scarum (Friday, 9:00 p.m., CBS), with The King as a singer touring the Middle East who becomes involved in a plot to assassinate a potentate. I'll bet that happens all the time nowadays, don't you? Mary Ann Mobley is the princess with whom he also becomes involved (and I wonder how many princesses you'll find like her in the Middle East today), and Philip Reed as the aforementioned king, whose country is called "Lunarkand." Or, as Crist puts it, "Never-never land." 

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Throughout this week's issue are notices of possible programming pre-emptions due to the flight of Apollo 9, which launched on March 3 and is scheduled for splashdown on Thursday. Coming after the dramatic Apollo 8 trip around the moon last December, Apollo 9 represents the first test of the Lunar Module (in Earth orbit), and is essential for the success of the man-on-the-moon program. What's remarkable about this is the moon landing, on Apollo 11, comes up later this year. We've become so used to things taking a long time (which they always seem to do nowadays), it's still awesome to think that NASA could go from a first test of the LM to the actual landing in just over four months. 

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As a bookend to the Jonathan Winters interview, it seems appropriate to conclude with syndicated political columnist Max Lerner's* essay on television as having the potential for "The greatest force for democracy," the sixth in a series of such essays in defense of television. That potential, it could be said, comes with some conditions.

*Lerner was an interesting character, a New Deal Democrat and ACLU backer who was on Nixon's Enemies List, but was also a strong supporter of Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan.

"TV," Lerner says, "is a double-edged sword. It cuts you when you grasp it. But it can also cut away many of the obstacles that have impeded social advance in the past." It has broken down barriers: barries of distance, of time, of access. Although it sounds like a cliche, it truly has become a window to the world, especially for those who, until now, have lived in relative construction. This exposure is, in the abstract, a good thing. However, the flip side is that TV can also be seen as an instrument of social unrest. "By churning up the aspirations of the disinherited, TV has also increased their demands. for more equal access to the life possibilities; and when the demands have not been met, it has quickened their anger and resentment." This is not to say that television created this unrest; it was already present in society. But it is also true that it is "the visible medium by which the winds blow into every home in the Nation." 

Television's great power is its immediacy, its now, in the moment intimacy. "If done tolerably well it can do something to make the vast, unmanageable leviathan of society more compassable, less lonely, better-known to itself." There's a caviat, however, "the danger that as a Nation we will grow accustomed to the moment of action, and come to confuse action with truth." In other words, if we see what is happening, we may completely overlook the why. 

One of the limitations of television is that, being a visual medium, it has a predilection toward action. Action, in turn, tends to arouse a greater involvement in the viewer, who "gets so involved he reacts strongly and it shapes his attitudes and his actions." It is, therefore, imperative that television exercise its freedom wisely, for "you can't have an effective TV medium without its havin gan impact on the frame of freedom in the society, on the quality of democratic living and thinking, on the nature and pace of change in the society."

Whittaker Chambers, the former Soviet spy turned anti-communist, once said something to the effect that capitalism without a moral foundation was no different from any other -ism. In his conclusion, Lerner makes a similar point. It is true, he says, that "there can be no good TV without freedom. I add that there can be no real freedom in our fragile society unless there is a cement that holds the society together. The hardest task TV can take on, even harder than fighting against restraints on its freedom, is the task of helping to strengthen the cement of the society." Television has a responsibility to exercise its freedom in a way that strengthens, rather than unravels, democracy. Absent that responsibility, we will wind up with neither democracy nor freedom. And then where will we be? TV  

Around the dial

We start the week at RealWeegieMidget with Gill and hubby's monthly review of movies, including teleflicks with killer bees, Playboy bunnies, 80s aerobics instructors, murder mysteries, and fashionistas. What more could you ask for?

Over at The Horn Section, Hal appears on Dan Schneider's Cosmoetica podcast (home to yours truly's American TV history series) to discuss The White Shadow with Dan and Harv Aronson of Abstract Sports. Take a listen to an enjoyable hour.

David's journey through 1970s TV continues at Comfort TV, where we're up to Thursday nights in 1975: The Waltons continues to dominate, NBC continues to fall short, and ABC gives us Barney Miller, The Streets of San Francisco, and Harry-O. Not bad at all.

At The Twilight Zone Vortex, Brian looks at "Ninety Years Without Slumbering," starring Ed Wynn, written (partly) by George Clayton Johnson, with a score by Bernard Herrmann, and a backstory that's almost as interesting as what appears on the screen. 

The Hitchcock Project continues at bare•bones e-zine with Michael Hogan's story "The Safe Place," starring the ubiquitous Robert H. Harris (you'd recognize him if you saw him) and Joanne Linville in a story of greed, murder, and a crook who's a little too clever for his own good.

At Cult TV Blog, John returns to his series on television "tales of unease" with "Superstitious Ignorance," a story of the house-hunting trip from Hell involving some very unpleasant people, and a sense of unease that increases throughout the episode.

Roger's episode-by-episode review of The New Avengers continues at The View from the Junkyard, with this week's story, "Gnaws," which features a giant rat in the sewers of London, and—for better or worse—hearkens back to the fantastical stories of the original series.

At A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence marks the 40th anniversary of Moonlighting, one of the most ground-breaking and influential shows of the 1980s. It starred Cybill Shepherd, whom I don't like, and Bruce Willis, whom I do, and featured as much drama off-screen as it did on. TV