This week in TV Guide: March 30, 1968

This is one of those issues where what takes place between the covers is invariably overshadowed by the events that aren't found in the pages. 

On Sunday, March 31, President Johnson announces, at the conclusion of a nationally televised address in which he discloses a de-escalation of the war in Vietnam, that he will not seek reelection, throwing the presidential race into chaos. On Thursday, April 4, Martin Luther King is assassinated in Memphis, touching off rioting nationwide and throwing the entire country into chaos. It is, as Broadcasting magazine will say, the beginning of "what may have been the stormiest 10 days of news coverage in [television's history." By the time it ends, with King's funeral the following Tuesday, the three networks will have preempted 55 hours of programming, resulting in a loss estimated to have been $5.65 million in cancelled commercials, plus an additional $1.3 million in expenses for special news coverage.* The Academy Awards broadcast, scheduled for the day before King's funeral, is postponed for two days after several stars, both black and white, inform Academy officials that they will not attend the ceremony. And we'll be doing much of it all over again in two months, with the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy.

*The detail on television and radio coverage of the news events is really quite interesting to read; I won't go into the detail here, but if you'd like to look at it, I'd urge you to check out the story at Broadcasting.

Unlike the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963, neither of these events calls for wall-to-wall continuous coverage; in particular, according to Broadcasting, coverage of the violence that broke out in major cities throughout the nation "was generally carried in regularly scheduled newscasts in an effort not to exacerbate already tense situations in numerous ghetto areas. Network news crews, like their counterparts from local affiliates, abstained from using bright lights and other conspicuous pieces of equipment." But while many of the programs listed in this issue will be broadcast, there's no doubt a pall will hang over them.

And what might have been affected by the breaking coverage? President Johnson's speech began at 10:00 p.m. ET on Sunday and ran for 40 minutes. CBS and NBC preempted The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour and Bonanza, respectively, and presented commentary following the speech up to the top of the hour, whereupon they joined their regularly scheduled programs, Mission: Impossible and The High Chaparral. ABC, on the other hand, devoted only seven minutes to analysis, and then began a late start to the Sunday night movie, a repeat of the made-for-TV adaptation of Johnny Belinda. To make up for it, however, they also expanded their regular 15-minute late evening news roundup to 25 minutes. On Wednesday evening, ABC and NBC both carried half-hour specials on the Vietnam negotiations; ABC preempted Dream House at 8:30 p.m., and NBC delayed thge start of The Tonight Show for 30 minutes.

The King assassination came just after 7:00 p.m. ET (the YouTube footage of Walter Cronkite announcing the assassination on the CBS Evening News is from the West Coast rebroadcast at 6:30 p.m. PT, 9:30 p.m. ET), and all three networks interrupted their regular programming with bulletins that King had been shot; additional bulletins were aired when King's death was reported. President Johnson's statement on the assassination was carried live on all three networks at 9:00 p.m., and ABC followed with a one-hour special from 10 to 11 p.m. (a time they usually gave back to the affiliates). CBS had a short special at 10 p.m., and an additional one-hour special from 11:00 p.m. to midnight. NBC followed the Johnson speech with a half-hour special at 9: 30 p.m., which would have knocked Dragnet off the air. 

Of course, there are more preemptions to follow the next week, but that's another story for another week.

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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: Scheduled: singers Frankie Laine, Lana Cantrell, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, and the Young Americans; comedians Myron Cohen, Wayne and Shuster, and Richard Pryor; dancer Peter Gennaro; and the Barrington Sisters balancing act. (Added guests included Charlton Heston, talking about Planet of the Apes; Lana Cantrell was apparently a no-show.)

Palace: Host Jimmy Durante does his piano-smashing rendition of ‘The Lost Chord” and introduces the Beatles (“‘Lady Madonna’) on tape from London. Also: singer-dancer Liza Minnelli, comics Tim Conway (as the coach of a losing Olympic team) and Jerry Shane, Honky-Tonk musicians Fred and Mickie Finn, and Le grand Ballet Classique from Paris.

This week offers a pretty good comparison. In addition to talking about Apes, Charlton Heston does a recitation of Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address, the famous "With malice towards none" speech, particularly poignant given the events to come this week. Ed's stand-up guests, Richard Pryor, Myron Cohen, and Wayne and Shuster, are usually very funny. Now, the Young Americans—well, this is where the balance of power starts to shift to Palace, with Durante, Liza (with a Z), and Tim Conway. Oh, and did I mention the Beatles? It's close, but this week goes to The Palace by a nose.

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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.

So what is Cleve cooking up for us this week? Funny you should say that, because his focus is on Julia Child and The French Chef, now in its fifth season, and while they're in reruns currently (with new color episodes coming soon!), this just gives you a chance to catch up on what you might have missed with this "remarkable program."

Amory begins with a premise that I don't think we pay enough attention to: the status of the show's host as a genuine television star. "Julia Child is not just a natural, she is without doubt the most natural performer: television has yet uncovered, Indeed she is perhaps the only performer in the entire medium who is never the slightest bit nervous, the slightest bit coy, the slightest bit 'on' or the slightest bit anything. She is so completely oblivious to the camera that she seems to come right through to us*without any camera at all." Not only that, she has the rare talent, and indeed it is rare, of being able to transcend her material. Even if you're not interested in cooking, you become drawn into the program because of her. I've only experienced one program like that myself; the original Top Gear, which forced one to become a fan of cars whether or not they were, just because the hosts and their personalities were so compelling.

Another thing about her is that, while she definitely takes cooking seriously, she doesn't take herself that seriously, nor how she does her cooking. At one point, while in the process of cutting a chicken breast, she comments that "This is like so many recipes we’ve done where it doesn’t make so much difference where—I mean what—I mean how—you have your proportions, so long as you get the general idea." I always thought that Julia Child was, in a very real sense, the people's chef, the antithesis of the snobbish artiste chef who looks down his nose at anyone who might prefer an old-fashioned burger and fries. Cleve particularly enjoyed watching her prepare a chocolate soufflé, "a nice dessert to have up your sleeve." Before anyone knew it, flour was flying, egg whites were being beaten, and she "was breathing so hard it sounded as if she had a stethoscope on and was being examined by her doctor." Predictably, the soufflé emerged from the oven in perfect condition. "Now," she concluded, "you want to hurry into the dining room, gliding softly so as not to disturb it. And don’t forget there’s a trick to serving it, too. Take your knife and fork back to back and plick it in the center." That, our critic concludes, is advice that anyone can take to the bank, no matter what you do.

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Amidst the jumble of the week's programming, there are still things we can count on, beginning Saturday, with the truly outstanding documentary "Jesse Owens Returns to Berlin" (8:30 p.m. PT, KTVU). Written, produced, and directed by the great documentarian Bud Greenspan, the 60-minute special follows Owens as he returns to Berlin, the site of his 1936 Olympic triumph, to relive his four-gold medal performance; the hour ends with the mayor of West Berlin telling Owens that "30 years ago, Adolf Hitler refused to offer you his hand. Today, I am proud to offer you both of mine." (Or words to that effect; I'm quoting from memory.) You don't have to be a fan of the Olympics to be impressed, and moved, by this film.

Picking through the rubble of Sunday's schedule, we have Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic in the ninth annual "Young Performers Concert" (4:30 p.m., CBS). You can see from the broadcast how casual Lenny looks here, dressed in a turtleneck rather than the white tie and tails. Allen Hughes has a review of the concert here. Later, on Firing Line (6:30 p.m., KQED), William F. Buckley Jr. debates the question of whether or not the Supreme Court favors the criminal. The law-and-order issue is going to be a dominant theme throughout the year's presidential campaign—and up to today, come to think of it.

On Monday, Jack Benny plays himself in a Lucy Show episode that sees the redhead trying to convince the tightwad to move his fortune from his subterranean vault into the bank. Hilarity ensues. (8:30 p.m., CBS) That's followed by The Andy Griffith Show, with Ken Berry starring as Sam Jones in the pilot for Mayberry R.F.D., the Griffith show's successor beginning in the fall. (9:00 p.m., CBS) And it's a rare Christmas-in-March movie on the late show, Larceny, Inc. (11:30 p.m., KPIX), with Edward G. Robinson as a paroled criminal who buys a luggage shop in order to break into the next-door bank at Christmastime, only to find the luggage business too successful for him to quit. 

Tuesday is the day of the Wisconsin primary, and all three networks plan coverage during the evening. With President Johnson out of the race, Eugene McCarthy is the big winner on the Democratic side, garnering 56 percent of the vote, his last major hurrah before Robert Kennedy wins the Indiana primary the following month. In the Republican primary, former Vice President Richard Nixon is the landslide winner, garnering nearly 80 percent. For something considerably more enjoyable, check out NBC's Petula Clark special (8:00 p.m.), with special guest Harry Belafonte. You'd have thought that this would be a pretty uncomplicated program, but in this interview, Pet talks about the controversy generated by "this nice little white lady touching this large black gentleman on the hand." Have you noticed, by the way, how much race plays a role in so many of this week's programs?

On Wednesday, Country singer and Hee Haw co-host Roy Clark makes his TV acting debut on The Beverly Hillbillies (8:30 p.m., CBS) in a dual role as Cousin Roy and his mother Myrtle; seems Roy's planning to market Myrtle's homemade medicine, in competition with Granny. Following that, a two-part Green Acres begins with Arnold the Pig on his way to Hollywood after starring in a local play (9:00 p.m., CBS). Yes, the wonderful world of Hooterville. 

Anything on Thursday is bound to look trite in retrospect, but let's look at a hard-hitting episode of Ironside (8:30 p.m., NBC) that sounds as if it could have been taken from The A-Team: "Ironside's efforts to break a Vietnam hero’s appointment with the gas chamber are jeopardized by the condemned man’s buddies, a trio of avenging paratroopers who have threatened death to everyone connected with the conviction." Gary Collins is the hero, and Gavin MacLeod one of the avenging paratroopers. Later, Dean Martin welcomes Jimmy Stewart, George Gobel, and Shecky Greene (and couldn't we all use a laugh?), the highlight being Jimmy's impression of Dean as host.

Without doubt, the highlight of Friday's entertainment is the NET Playhouse presentation of Chekhov's drama "Uncle Vanya" (9:00 p.m., NET), starring Sir Laurence Olivier, Sir Michael Redgrave, Joan Plowright, and Rosemary Harris. Chekhov's bleak play "focuses on three people who must admit that the man they idolize is a pompous, self-serving nonentity." Could it be a parable for today? Who knows; what I do know is that it's wonderful to run across these old classics in such clean, crisp restorations. Go Chek it out and see what I mean. Later, CBS Reports (10:00 p.m.) is scheduled to present an American profile of "Home Country USA," a look at the great forgotten resources of grass roots America, including shipwrights constructing wooden sailing ships, doctors returning to their rural roots, an ironworks that hires poverty-stricken former cotton laborers, and more of what America used to be all about. Meanwhile, ABC's documentary The Confrontation (10:00 p.m.) takes a look back at the Army-McCarthy hearings. 

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We could probably stand for something light right about now, so what better time for Dick Hobson's article on "Four Days with the Remarkable Mrs. Morton," aka Lucille Ball. 

The scene opens Monday morning at the script reading, held in the dining-cum-conference room that was once occupied by the likes of Joseph P. Kennedy, Dore Schary, and Howard Hughes, and here we get some insight into Lucy's show biz acumen; turning to head writer Milt Josefsberg, she critcizes a bit on page 12: "That's awfully radio! It's just radio exposition! I kept hoping there’d be a joke coming up, not just a lot of words!" To Josefsberg, she says, "Let's go! Don’t just sit there with your chin on your expensive hand!" When husband Gary Morton offers a one-liner, with the explanation that "I was just thinking by myself over here," Lucy replies, "No, darling." Later, Morton will talk about life with Lucy: "She thinks she’s an actress playing Lucy Carmichael. She thinks she puts Lucy Carmichael away for the night at the studio. But I’ve been living with Lucy Carmichael at home for six years! At breakfast we'll do that Laurel and Hardy shtick. She won’t be aware the toast is burning. I’m watching. Then she has that way of saying, ‘There goes the toast!"

  The Mortons warm up the audience

In the projection room where Citizen Kane was first screened, Lucy sits alone, watching the rough-cut of the episode where Vivian Vance guests, and offering her feedback: "No, open with the long shot." "Go to that face." "Let’s move her over in the two-shot." "Go out on me." Later, she and regular Mary Jane Croft begin rehearsal on a scene. "Mary Jane, in this scene coming up, give a beat there after your first line." Mary Jane: "Do you really want me to say that line about 'I’ve got to go catch the movie at the Paramount'?" Lucy: "Well, if you want to stay friends with Mr. Bluhdorn, you’d better." That reference to the chairman of Gulf & Western, the company that bought out Desilu for a cool $17 million, is a reminder that the "little studio that could" no longer exists. Says Hobson, "It still makes her cry when she thinks about it." Later, after a call to last week's guest star, Carol Burnett ("Carol, darling, you were marvelous! I always said you’d make it, if you’d just pay attention."), the day ends with a script conference, and more feedback for Josefsberg, who tells her he has four options for a joke t0 fill out a scene: "There's no time now. You can give them to me for Christmas. You never know what to give me. Now, don't worry, fellas, I'll simply do something."

Wednesday is blocking day, and Lucy has to deal with this week's guest star, Buddy Hackett, who complains that "Lucy doesn't understand my comedy. She’s basic, while I am not of this world." Lucy's constantly battling over his continuous ad-libs, to which Buddy replies, "All right, if you’d rather have a plebeian laugh instead of something intellectual." When Lucy says "I'd rather have it," Hackett says, "You can say anything you want. I'll get even with you when we get on the air." This breaks Lucy up; she "yowls, stamps her foot, throws her arms around his. neck, and kisses him on the forehead. The Bad Boy beams." We also get a glimpse of Lucy's former husband, Desi Arnaz. "I’ve rented him space in one of my studios and he’s working again." His hair is now almost totally white; the rating on his own production, The Mothers-in-Law, are holding up, keeping him on the comeback trail.

Finally, it's Thursday: shooting day. Lucy bursts from her dressing room, "Quiet on the set!" Hackett's still having some problems with his lines, and asks, "Do I always have to sayh the same lines?" By 8:00 p.m., the audience of 400 has made its way into the studio's bleachers. Gary warms up the audience, introduces Hackett, who promises "I'm going to ad-lib a lot. We're on film. Lucy can't stop me," and then Lucy herself, "the star of our show." She's a little concerned that son Desi hasn't shown up yet: Desi IV, one of the most famous babies in television history, "who was welcomed at birth 15 years ago by 20,000 letters and 2000 telegrams." When he makes a belated appearance in the audience, everyone cheers.

And when it's all over, Lucy returns to being Mrs. Gary Morton. She climbs behind the wheel of her car and looks at the note she's attached there: "Stop for bagels for Gary."

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MST3K alert: The Mole People (1956) In Asia, a scientific expedition discovers an ancient tribe of Sumerians. John Agar, Synthia Patrick, Hugh Beaumont. (Saturday, 11:30 a.m., KNTV in San Jose) This is the fourth and final appearance on MST3K by Hugh Beaumont, but without question his most memorable "appearance" is on Lost Continent, when, during one of the host segments, Mike Nelson portrays him as one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. ("I come bearing a message of unholy death. I'm really going to give you the business, destroy you, your world, and all that you know. But first, a stern talking-to.") In all the long history of MST3K, it's perhaps the most absurd moment ever, which is why it's so great. But a last word on The Mole People: although he's not listed in the TV Guide, the cast also includes Alan Napier. So we've got Ward Cleaver, Alfred the butler, and the former Mr. Shirley Temple. How cool is that?  TV

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