Around the dial

We start off the new year by looking back 50 years, to 1975, as David continues his Comfort TV voyage through television of the 1970s andTuesday nights in 1975. It's the beginning of ABC's dominance in the ratings, and with shows like Happy Days and Welcome Back Kotter, it's not hard to see why. But don't ignore Police Story and Good Times.

The "Ann Way Season" continues at Cult TV Blog, and this week, John looks at The Dick Emery Show, which ran on British TV from 1963 to 1981, and Ann's appearance in the episode "The Daily Grind." If you like Benny Hill, it sounds as if Dick Emery might be your kind of show.

Cult TV Lounge returns to the world of TV tie-in novels, in this case Michael Avallone's novel The Blazing Affair, based on The Girl from U.N.C.L.E. It tells a tale of baddies trying to revive the Third Reich, and has a somewhat more serious tone than the TV series itself.

At Drunk TV, Jason reviews the 2020 telemovie A Ring for Christmas, one of those wretched Christmas movies that pollute our TV screens; this one presents one of those absurd plots that, taken in limited doses, can make for good fun. Not for me, perhaps, but not everyone's like me!

The View from the Junkyard wrapped up The Avengers a while ago, but not to fear: they've moved on to The New Avengers! Its first episode, "The Eagle's Nest," introduces Steed's new sidekicks, and it's a nice continuation in tone from the old series.

Travalanche celebrates "Science Fiction Day" (January 2) with a look at TV's kid-oriented sci-fi shows of the late '40s and early '50s. As was the case with TV Westerns, the sci-fi genre would eventually become more adult-oriented, but here are eight that are still fun.

At A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence pays tribute to the late Linda Lavin, who died last week at 87. Although she's most-known for her starring role in Alice, she had a long career on Broadway and television, and Terence looks at some of the many highlights.

Cliff Norton was one of those character actors you might not recognize by name, but you may recall him when you see one of his many TV appearances. Those Were the Days gives us a capsule look at some of his roles, on shows from The Dick Van Dyke Show to Green Acres.

There was something magic about doing live television, and at The Lucky Strike Papers, Andrew gives us an excerpt from a 1963 essay in which Norman Mailer writes about how the end of live TV meant the loss of a particular connection with viewers. Something to think about. TV  

Around the dial

Merry Christmas, everyone; remember, the 12 Days of Christmas don't end on Christmas Day, they start then. So keep celebrating!

At Comet Over Hollywood, Jessica reviews the three different versions of Peter Pan that aired during television's golden era, in 1955, 1956, and 1960. It wasn't uncommon in these days of live television to do multiple renditions of the same story, with minimal cast changes. All three of these versions starred Mary Martin, and—most unusual for television of this time—all three of them still exist, and are available on DVD. 

At bare•bones e-zine, Jack's Hitchcock Project takes us to the eighth-season episode "Don't Look Behind You," by Barré Lyndon (no, not that Barry Lyndon), with a superior cast including Jeffrey Hunter, Vera Miles, and Dick Sargent; but does the episode match up to the talent?

The "Ann Way Season" continues at Cult TV Blog, as John looks at the 1978 children's series The Clifton House Mystery, and while Ann Way doesn't play a large role in the episode, it's certainly a fun one.

You might have seen Basil Rathbone as Scrooge in The Stingiest Man in Town during your Christmas viewing, which is a seasonal lead-in to Classic Film and TV Corner and Maddie's review of Rathbone's career, from classic villains to Sherlock Holmes.

At The Hits Just Keep On Comin', JB engages in something that I've always enjoyed: perusing the TV listings to see what was showing on Christmas Eves past. The 1950s and '60s were, I think, the peak era of Christmas specials on Christmas Eve, but even in the 1970s, you could find them.

Christmas Day was the 100th anniversary of Rod Serling's birth, and at A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence takes the opportunity to look back briefly on Serling's career, and how he continues to influence those involved in television.

Going My Way is perhaps one of the more obscure television series to be adapted from movies to television, perhaps surprising since Gene Kelly starred in the Bing Crosby role. But it ran a single season in 1962-63, and Television's New Frontier: The 1960s reviews the first 13 episodes.

At Travalanche, Trav looks at one of the pioneers of both radio and television, Don McNeill, and his Breakfast Club program which began on radio in 1933 and ran until 1968, with several stops on television along the way. One of my TV Guide reviews from a few years ago has a bit on it. TV  

Merry Christmas!

The Mystical Nativity (Detail), by Sandro Botticelli, c. 1500-1501

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God; and the Word 

   was God. 

He was in the beginning with God. 

All things were made through him, and without him was made nothing that 

   has been made. 

In him was life, and the life was the light of men. 

And the light shines in the darkness; and the darkness grasped it not.

There was a man, one sent from God, whose name was John. 

This man came as a witness, to bear witness concerning the light, that all might believe 

   through him. 

He was not the light, but was to bear witness to the light. 

It was the true light that enlightens every man who comes into the world. 

He was in the world, and the world was made through him, and the world knew him not. 

He came to his own, and his own received him not. 

But to as many as received him he gave the power of becoming sons of God; to those who

   believe in his name:

Who were born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us. 

And we saw his glory—glory as of the only-begotten of the Father—full of grace and truth.  

Have a Blessed and Merry Christmas, everyone! TV  

This week in TV Guide: December 20, 1969

Xor those of a certain age, this week's cover might remind us of the harvest gold refrigerator or stove we had in the early 1970s. It's a lovely illustration, drawing on images of both angels and the dove of peace, but it's also very much a color of its time. And so, as we approach the final Christmas of a tumultuous decade, our festival of holiday programming hits its stride. As usual, we'll cover Christmas Day itself as part of Monday's listings, which still leaves plenty to look at—how did people find the time to watch it all?

It begins on Saturday, with a three-hour Musical Christmas (12:30 p.m. PT, KOVR in Sacramento), including local musical groups along with the United States Air Force Christmas Show. At 7:30 p.m., we're treated to the annual Christmas shows of both Andy Williams (NBC) and Jackie Gleason (CBS); Andy's joined by the Williams Brothers and the Osmond Brothers, while Jackie presents the fourth airing of "The Poor Soul in Christmas-Land." ABC joines in with a doubleheader starting at 8:30 p.m. with Lawrence Welk's annual Christmas treat, followed by Perry Como hosting The Hollywood Palace (which you'll read about below).  

Sunday morning, Margaret Truman Daniel hosts an hour of Christmas carols from Europe, originally telecast in 1961 (8:00 p.m., CBS). At 10:30 a.m. KCRA in Sacramento begins a block of Yuletide cheer with the Sandler & Young Christmas special; they're joined by the U.S. Air Force Symphony and the Airmen of Note. That's followed by holiday music from the Yuba City High School at 11:00 a.m., the half-hour drama Unto Us a Child is Born at 11:30 a.m., and The Sounds of Christmas at noon, featuring Carmen Dragon and the Glendale Symphony Orchestra. At 12:30 p.m., Jonathan Winters hosts a Christmas part for children from Navy families. The festive programs continue following AFL football, with Christmas Our Way (4:05 p.m.), featuring Skitch Henderson and Marilyn Maye, and the Saga of Western Man documentary "Christ is Born" at 4:35 p.m.

The prime-time highlight is a rerun of the all-time great How the Grinch Stole Christmas (7:30 p.m., CBS), narrated by Boris Karloff. That's preceded by a Christmas episode of Lassie (7:00 p.m.), and followed later by The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour (9:00 p.m.), which includes a generous portion of Christmas music. In the meantime, the Wonderful World of Disney presents part one of "Babes in Toyland" (7:30 p.m., NBC), with Ray Bolger, Tommy Sands, and Annette Funicello. The NET debate program The Advocates (7:00 p.m.) asks whether or not Christmas has become too commercial. I'll give you a hint: the answer is "yes." Less cynically, The Ray Coniff Christmas Show gives us a pleasant hour of Christmas music; he's joined by Mr. Ed's Alan Young (6:30 p.m., KRCR in Redding).

On Tuesday, CBS offers an abridged version of The Nutcracker (7:30 p.m.), hosted by Eddie Albert and starring dancers Edward Villella, Patricia McBride, and Melissa Hayden. At 8:30 p.m., NBC's Tuesday Night at the Movies presents the classic White Christmas, with Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, and Vera-Ellen, while The Red Skelton Hour repeats 1967's "A Christmas Urchin," a charming, hour-long Freddie the Freeloader story with guests Howard Keel (in a rare, mostly non-singing role), Joan Freeman, Linda Sue Risk, and Jullana. And at 10:30, the Oral Roberts Christmas Special (KXTV in Sacramento) includes singer Anita Bryant and U.S. Senator Mark Hatfield. 

Christmas Eve, Wayne Newton hosts the Kraft Music Hall in a holiday musicale (9:00 p.m., NBC), with the Cowsills, Jack Wild, Julie Budd, the Singing Angels, and Christopher Hewett (later remembered as TV's Mr. Belvedere) playing Charles Dickens. At the same time, ABC presents a repeat of "The Legend of Silent Night," one of the great "lost" Christmas specials, narrated by Kirk Douglas and starring James Mason as Franz Gruber, composer of the much-loved hymn. Many people have been looking for this movie for a long time. And over on KTXL, Bing Crosby reprises his Oscar-winning role as Fr. Chuck O'Malley in The Bells of St. Mary's, co-starring Ingrid Bergman. (You can see Going My Way tomorrow on KXTV.) 

And with Johnny Carson and Merv Griffin both having the night off, both NBC and CBS have Christmas programs leading up to midnight: Skitch Henderson conducts the NBC Orchestra in a program of holiday music, joined by the Robert Shaw Chorale (11:30 p.m., NBC), while CBS has the Tucson Boys Choir performing at a 17th century Spanish mission near Tucson. (In case you're wondering, Regis Philbin hosts the Bishop show tonight, in the dying days before Dick Cavett takes over.) At midnight, NBC broadcasts the Midnight Mass from St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City; CBS carries a rerun of Berlioz's magnificent oratorio "L'Enfance du Christ," with Metropolitan Opera stars Giorgio Tozzi, Helen Vanni, and Sherill Milnes, first shown in 1964. Quite a way to usher in Christmas.

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

Sullivan: Ed reviews the decade in entertainment. At press time, the taped segments (many from Ed’s shows) were to include The Beatles, Barbra Streisand, Diana Ross and the Supremes, Judy Garland, Sophie Tucker, Tony Bennett, Tiny Tim, David Frost (looking at the decade in film), Petula Clark (the British Invasion), Robert Goulet (highlights from Broadway), Peter Gennaro (a look at dances), Herb Alpert, and Louis Armstrong.

Palace: Perry Como celebrates yuletide with Diahann Carroll, Edward Villella of the New York City Ballet, comic Shecky Greene, and puppeteer Burr Tilistrom’s lovable Kukia and Ollie. Perry sings "Home for the Holidays," "Love in a Home," "Christmas Eve," "The First Noel," "Hark! the Herald Angels Sing," "Christ Is Born," "Carol of the Bells," and "Holy Night," and duets with Diahann on "Silver Bells".  

Special episodes this week! We've gotten used to Bing Crosby doing his annual Christmas clambake on Palace, but after four years, he's taken the show to NBC; Perry Como more than adequately fills in on Palace's final Christmas edition (which you can see here), with a fine supporting cast, although Shecky Greene does seem to be a little out of place. Ed, meanwhile, offers a retrospective of the "Swinging, Soulful Sixties" through a barage of clips that pretty much summarizes the entire decade, and how the Sullivan show was responsible for bringing it to us. These episodes weren't made to compete, and this week they don't. We'll just sum it up with a Merry Christmas!

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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. 

To Rome with Love, Cleveland Amory assures us at the outset, is no Forsythe Saga. But let's get past that groaner and on to the show itself. Like John Forsythe's previous success, Bachelor Father, it involves Forsythe playing a single dad (a widower, this time, bringing up not one, but three precocious daughters), a college professor who left his home in Iowa for a new position in Rome after his wife's death. (Many people have left Iowa for far less.) He and his family are followed by his sister, Harriet (Kay Medford), who tries to convince them to come back to Iowa.

By far, says Clevel the best thing about Rome is Forsythe. who "has an almost unbelievable ability to be both believably funny and believably touching at the same time, even when the script is beyond belief." And Susan Neher, as middle daughter Penny, is "really extraordinary." The supporting cast also includes Vito Scotti, who's good in almost everything he's in, and Peggy Mondo. Kay Medford and her comedic talents, however, are totally misused here—or is it nonused? 

The series is nearly done in, however, by the writing. Oh, many of the ideas are fine, but the endings, though often clever, don't ring true. And the fact is, oftentimes, there doesn't seem to be anything going on. As Penny remarks, "Isn't there something better than going through the same old routine day after day?" In the world of sitcoms, that's certainly the case, and when nothing happens on-screen, you can be assured something will happen off-screen soon enough; Kay Medford will be replaced by Walter Brennan in the second season, but to no avail, and To Rome with Love doesn't receive enough love from viewers to make it past two seasons.

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This weekend, the American Football League playoffs get started, with the winners meeting in two weeks' time in the final AFL championship game. On Saturday, the defending Super Bowl champion New York Jets host the Kansas City Chiefs (10:30 a.m., NBC), while Sunday sees the Houston Oilers taking on the Oakland Raiders in Oakland (1:00 p.m., NBC; blacked out in the Bay Area). The Chiefs defeat the Jets in a 13-6 slugfest, the Raiders rout the Oilers 56-7; on January 4 the Chiefs win the championship and a trip to the Super Bowl, upending the Raiders 17-7.

Chuck Berry and Gordon Lightfoot are among the headliners in ABC's short-lived 45-minute music show The Music Scene (Monday, 7:30 p.m.). Meanwhile, Tiny Tim is the guest on Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In (8:00 p.m., NBC), doing "a vocal tribute to the past." And since we're looking at interesting casting tonight, the syndicated game show He Said! She Said!, a forerunner to Tattletales, has an interesting lineup: in addition to New York Mets star Ron Swoboda and his wife Cecilia, Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, and Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara, we have NBC reporter Nancy Dickerson and her husband, industrialist C. Wyatt Dickerson. I can see her on What's My Line, but somehow I wouldn't have expected her on this.

On a night dominated by Christmas programming, the late Earl Holliman appears as a tormented priest in Marcus Welby, M.D. (Tuesday, 10:00 p.m., ABC), suffering from asthma attacks that Dr. Welby suspects are psychosomatic, due to his agitation over dealing with the problems of disaffected youth in his parish. For a change of pace, you might be interested in the movie version of Gian-Carlo Menotti's opera The Medium (11:30 p.m., KXTV), starring Marie Powers (who originated the role) and Anna Maria Alberghetti.

Those who think that politicians are marketed like products (with advertising to match) can look back to Joe McGinniss's classic The Selling of the President 1968 (reviewed here) to chronicle just how this came about; McGinniss is the guest tonight on Bob Cromie's Book Beat (Wednesday, 8:30 p.m., NET), which unfortunately comes too late for anyone to purchase the book as a Christmas present, but it's worthwhile nonetheless. If politics isn't your thing, you might want to catch The Beverly Hillbillies (8:30 p.m., CBS), with Soupy Sales as Air Force ace Jetstream Bradford, Mr. Drysdale's nephew. 

It's of some interest, I think, that with one week to go to 1970, we are still seeing black-and-white movies shown on prime-time network television—and not "classic" movies such as It's a Wonderful Life or Casablanca, but regular, albeit high-quality, movies. We have not one but two examples of this, starting on Thursday with Me and the Colonel (9:00 p.m., CBS), starring Danny Kaye and Curt Jurgens, which Judith Crist calls "a warm, poignant and very human comedy" of a Jew and an anti-Semite thrown together in an attempt to escape Paris before the Nazi occupation. And on Friday, Irene Dunne and Rex Harrison star in Anna and the King of Siam (9:00 p.m., CBS), which, Crist says, "will come as a revelation for a generation brought up on "The King and I" as the ultimate version of the Margaret Landon book." Dunne is lovely as Anna, while Harrison's king displays a "character and temperament as fascinating as the Yul Brynner model."

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Robert de Roos profiles Lloyd Nolan, also known as "the unforgettable man from many forgettable movies." It's not a knock on Nolan, an actor's actor with the reputation for making anything he's in a little better; rather, it stems from a charming anecdote with which de Roos leads his story, of the time when Nolan and his wife were watching television "and a picture came on—starring me. It was the strangest thing. I couldn't remember ever having heard of the film before. I don't really believe I was in it—but there I was on the tube."

Lloyd and Mell Nolan   

I've often wondered about that, whether movies or television shows make as much of an impact on those acting in them as they often do with those viewing them. But, in Nolan's case at least, it's hardly surprising; at this point, he'd appeared in 114 movies, many of them B-pictures at Paramount, "which operated on the theory that any tired story could be made fresh and new if the acting was artful enough." "We had some of the damnedest scripts I ever saw,," Nolan recalls. "Most of the time we couldn't figure out who was the star." 

But, as de Roos correctly points out, even bad movies—or, at least, mediocre ones—couldn't stop Nolan from becoming a star. His most famous role came on Broadway in 1953, as Captain Philip Queeg in "The Caine Mutiny Court Martial," a role he reprised on a live broadcast of Ford Star Jubilee in 1955, for which he'd win an Emmy. His co-star, Barry Sullivan, remembers that "We both were nominated for the Emmy, and I voted for him. I'll bet Lloyd was a unanimous choice." Sullivan, who also appeared in the play on Broadway, is one of many actors who pay tribute to Nolan's talent; "I thought I knew a lot about acting, but Lloyd's so enormously good you can't help absorbing something from his work. He turned in one of the two or three greatest performances of the American theater."

Today, Nolan plies his trade on the sitcom Julia, which he took on the understanding that "the job was challenging and not too much work, and the pay enough." Says star Diahann Carroll, "Aside from teh fact that Lloyd is a nice human being to spend time with on a film set, I love the sense of professionalism he contributes to the atmosphere here. All of us consider ourselves lucky to have him around." His agent, Bill Robinson, says that "He never tries to impress you but he can always get what he wants without fanfare." In fact, there are times when he'll actually suggest eliminating some of his lines; "I can say the same thing with a gesture or a look." 

Nolan is gearing up for an expanded role in this season's episodes; in addition to playing Dr. Morton Chegley, Julia's boss, he's also taking on oocasional appearances as his 92-year-old uncle, Norton. "For the first time since he's been on the show, he asked to see all the dailies and he sat there chuckling all the way through," says producer Hal Kanter. "He told me, 'This is the first time I can remember laughing at myself on the screen.' " 

His success on television hasn't changed him much, except that he's recognized by more fans than ever. "It makes me feel good," he says. "When someone says, 'Thank you for all the pleasure you've given me over the years'—that's an extra dividend."

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In the Teletype, a note that "Armchair athletes should be in their glory on Jan. 11," as CBS plans six-and-a-half hours of sports coverage, starting with an NHL game between Montreal and New York, followed by Super Bowl IV. Of course, the Super Bowl isn't played in the daytime anymore, and six-and-a-half hours of sports is nothing, considering we have entire channels devoted to sports today. Not to mention that as 1969 turns to 1970, New Year's Day will feature a solid ten hours straight of football. Now that's a feast for sports fanatics.

Richard K. Doan says that Merv Griffin's late-night show may or may not be in trouble. The brass at CBS aren't pleased with the ratings, which may be one reason why Merv's out on the West Coast right now, the thinking being that Hollywood stars mean higher ratings. (He'll eventually move the show out there permanently.) On the other hand, commercial time is sold out, and the show's reported to be "highly profitable." One person who's not happy with the show is Merv himself; tired of the network's meddling in guest selection and the like, he'll negotiate his way out of his contract by the end of 1971, and go back to his highly-successful syndicated program.

And I've mentioned before that Richard Nixon, though he may not have been the most comfortable politician on television, was certainly one of the savviest. If you need more proof, his advisers scheduled his December 8 news conference in a time slot immediately following Laugh-In and Here's Lucy. The resulting audience, which NBC estimated at 65 million, was probably larger than that afforded in any other time slot. And it's not just that; the president ended the conference precisely a half-hour later, limiting any post-conference analysis by networks eager to return to scheduled programming. 

Finally, one of those head-to-head confrontations between big-time specials that used to drive viewers crazy in the pre-VCR days. It happened on Sunday, November 30, with Olympic champion Peggy Fleming and the Ice Follies on NBC, up against Simon and Garfunkel on CBS, in the network's old Smothers Brothers spot. The results: Fleming and company finished #2 in the ratings for the week, behind only the "virtually untopable Bob Hope," while S&G were met with the sound of silence, finishing #64.

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MST3K alert: The Crawling Eye (English; 1958) In a radioactive cloud lies a tentacled monster, awaiting its victims. Forrest Tucker, Laurence Payne, Jennifer Jayne. (Saturday, 8:30 p.m., KTXL) One of Forrest Tucker's finest roles (and I'm not being sarcastic) sees him as a UN consultant investigating mysterious goings-on at a village in the Alps. Two of the most notable members of the supporting casts aren't listed here: Janet Munro, who enjoyed a very successful film and television career, including three Disney movies; and Andrew Faulds, who goes on to star in the UK series The Protectors before serving more than 20 years as a Labour member of Parliament. TV  

Around the dial

This little guy's got his priorities right: his television set and his cat. It doesn't get much better than that. But if it did, you can bet one of these shows would be on the tube.

On the home front, in my latest apperance on Dan Schneider's Video Interview, Dan and I discuss the history of Westerns on television. On Tommy Kovac's Splat from the Past, Tommy and I talk about Christmas memories on television. And at Eventually Supertrain, Dan and I are all about Garrison's Gorillas (plus more great stuff).

At The Horn Section, Hal returns with another episode of Love That Bob!, "Bob's Economy Wave," with Bob trying to juggle a strict household budget, a photography assignment, and a hot date. Note the operative word: trying. 

I don't know how many of you have snow on the ground right now, but if you'd like to get rid of it, Gill has just the movie for you at RealWeegieMidget: Hollywood Wives, the steamy 1985 miniseries based on the novel by Jackie Collins, with a who's who of big-haired seductive sirens.

The Broadcasting Archives shares the background of how Karl Freund helped develop the three-camera system for filming TV shows, along with a couple of pictures from the I Love Lucy set showing the system at work.

At Comfort TV, David notes something that I've commented on many times: how so many of the issues raised in shows of the 1960s and '70s are still issues today, and (perhaps more important) why television doesn't seem to try to offer answers to those issues anymore.

John takes a break from his series on character actress Ann Wray at Cult TV Blog in order to look at a pair of mysteries: "Death in Ecstasy" from the 1964 anthology series Detective, and Don't Open 'Till Christmas, a 1984 slasher movie that's short on quality but rich in atmosphere.

Jodie has an interesting guest post at Garroway at Large from voiceover artist Ross Bagley, who recalls his encounter with Dave, and the influence he had on Ross's career. A charming story, and it helps emphasize what an interesting, curious man Dave Garroway was.

At A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence writes on the 70th anniversary of the movie White Christmas. Now, White Christmas is far from being my favorite Christmas movie; you may remember it was the target of my annual Christmas post last year. Still, I can't imagine a Christmas without watching it!

Did someone say Christmas? Martin Grams has the lowdown on the Yuletide episode of Steve Canyon, the series based on Milton Caniff's comic strip, with a script written by Ray Bradbury. How was it? Read, and find out.

And at The Hits Just Keep On Comin', JB takes a look at Christmas music that doesn't work for him. A bit unusual, I know, but we cover everything here, and there are certainly enough Christmas albums I could add to the list. 

Shadow & Substance reminds us that, with the New Year less than two weeks away, Syfy is doing it's annual Twilight Zone marathon again, and Paul has the complete schedule for December 31, January 1, and January 2. What a great way to start the year. TV  

This week in TV Guide: December 14, 1963

We all know how the minefield that is television is littered with the bodies of various flops, bombs, disasters, and other fiascos. Their tombstones are inscribed with various synonyms for failure: Turn-On. The Tammy Grimes Show. Flesh and Blood. Now it's time to add to that dubious pantheon one of the most infamous of them all: The Jerry Lewis Show. And it falls to Richard Gehman to write the obituary, even though the body, while moribund, is still breathing.

The Jerry Lewis Show was the result of a bidding war among all three networks, and came on the heels of some very well-received specials over the years, as well as a successful stint as guest host on The Tonight Show in that interim period between the departure of Jack Paar and the arrival of Johnny Carson. As befits the stature of one of the biggest stars in the business, The Jerry Lewis Show was big: two hours long, telecast live each Saturday, from the newly-renamed and refurbished Jerry Lewis Theater (at a cost of $1,000,000). ABC was spending, chairman Leonard Goldenson said, "more money than we own" on the show. And people were excited; "Everybody's rooting for Lewis," said Jack Elliott, music director for the Edie Adams show. "Everybody wants him to make it."

But now, only seven weeks into its run, the show is in Big Trouble, with a captial T that, if it doesn't rhyme with R, can best be summarized with the word ratings. It has fallen into third place for the night, trailing both NBC's Saturday Night at the Movies and CBS's venerable Western duo of Have Gun, Will Travel and Gunsmoke. The critics are using harsh words to describe the show's star: "egocentric" and "boor." ABC's president, Tom Moore, will only say that "We are committed to The Jerry Lewis Show for 40 weeks." The whispering in the industry is that "Jerry Lewis, LIVE from Hollywood, soon would be DEAD from Hollywood." And the question that everyone's asking: what happened?

According to Gehman, the problems are varied, but insiders point to one overriding conern: nobody really knew what Lewis wanted out of the show, what his vision was. It was as if he was completely detached from the project: unavailable for consultation with the network on guest stars, working on the script for his next movie instead of damage control on the show, opening for a week in Las Vegas in November. The problem, says Gehman, isn't confusion as much as it is a "complete lack of communication." 

Opening night didn't help. Lewis was nervous—"terribly nervous"—and things were only made worse when the huge screen above the stage stopped working, which meant most of the people in the theater couldn't see him. Cameramen lost communications with the control room. The red lights on the cameras went off, meaning nobody on stage knew which one to face. Commercials came and went without warning, or at the wrong time. Lewis, "a fearfully nervous persormer [whose] apparent ego masks a frightened and inescure little boy," hates surprises, and opening night was filled with them. He looked awkward, and the audience didn't understand some of his comments. Things went downhill from there. (You can see the opening to that show here.)

Gehman had been given unusual access to Lewis; the next year, he would write a biography of Lewis, That Kid, that, some said, caused Lewis to regret having given him that access. When it came to the show, however, Gehman found it difficult to get him to talk about things. He was more interested in talking metaphysically about God ("I think He sits up there in a big chair going har-har-har at all of us. I think He looks like Kriss Kringle. And I think He's makin' all of us do all this as a kind of audition.") and shrugs off press criticism ("The minute the critics are for me, I know I'm in trouble."). 

Which leaves it up to Gehman to analyze the failure, the first one that Lewis has had since a brief radio venture with Dean Martin that was almost immediately followed up by a successful turn into television. Lewis, Gehman says, is "a man whose deepest basic motivion—he once said to me—is fear." It may be, Gehman thinks, that "hurt and fear" have kept him detached. It may be that we was so cocky he didn't take into account how difficult two hours of live television each week could be, that he just had to "show up." It could be that, like his friend Frank Sinatra with his own ill-fated ABC series a few years ago, he had contempt for the television audience. All anyone knows is that when his press agent, Jack Keller, asked if there was anything he could do for Jerry, Lewis replied "Yeah—get me off this show."

It is, Gehman says in conclusion, as if Jerry Lewis was still auditioning, that, as he put it, God was going har-har-har while Lewis ran around frantically "and mainly running away." 

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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. 

I tried watching a couple of episodes of East Side/West Side a few years ago. Well, actually, I did watch a couple of episodes; I tried to like it, but I don't know that East Side/West Side is the kind of show that one actually likes, but the lack of a likeable character, combined with an excessive preachiness, meant I turned it off before it could turn me on. The fact that I tried it out, though, meant I fulfilled the obligation set out by Cleveland Amory in this week's review.

To be fair, Cleve had a few nits to pick as well, chief among them that East Side/West Side can be a little, well, humorless. The show is "a pretty depressing concept for evening 'entertainment' to begin with," perhaps "a bit seamier, it seems to us, than it has to be." A show like this doesn't have to have humor, but "more of a light touch would, if nothing else, help to illumine the dark spots." In crafting the role of welfare worker Neil Brock, played by George C. Scott, the producers "have failed to create a character with whom we can identify", and that goes as well for his two colleagues, played by Elizabeth Wilson and Cicely Tyson. There's also the fact that much of the dialog falls into the "unreal" department, which isn't the best thing for a series that promotes its realism.

All that said, Amory praises East Side/West Side as "undoubtedly the boldest, bravest and most original new series now on your screen this new season." CBS deserves credit for actually putting it on the air. And "you owe it to your conscience not only to see it but also to see that it stays on." At least I met Cleve halfway. 

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This week is a kind of limbo for Christmas programming—the quiet before the storm, as it were. We're in the time before the barage of animated Christmas specials that come early in the month (Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol premiered in 1962), and the variety shows and weekly sitcoms that air special Christmas episodes are just beginning to run theirs. (More of them will be on next week.)

With that said, two of the best-known and best-loved sitcom Christmas episodes air this week. On Tuesday, The Jack Benny Program (9:30 p.m., CBS) presents the famous 1960 episode "Jack Goes Christmas Shopping," featuring a performance by Mel Blanc that will crack you up, as it does Jack. On Wednesday, it's "The Alan Brady Show Presents," on The Dick Van Dyke Show (9:30 p.m., CBS), with Dick, Laura, Buddy, Sally, Mel, and Ritchie performing their hearts out. No Christmas viewing schedule is complete without either of these. And Saturday's Lawrence Welk Show (8:30 p.m., ABC) celebrates a holiday show with the Osmond Brothers.

Sunday's always a good time for holiday programs, and this Sunday is no exception, starting with CBS's religious program Look Up and Live (10:30 a.m.), which focuses on "Three Views of Christmas," including songs and spirituals appropriate to Advent. We continue at WNAC in Boston, with the second half of the noon double feature, Remember the Night, with Barbara Stanwick as a shoplifter remanded to the custody of the prosecuting attorney (Fred MacMurray) over the Christmas holiday. (Only in the movies, right?) That finishes in time for you to switch over to the Hallmark Hall of Fame's Christmas presentation, "A Cry of Angels" (4:00 p.m., NBC), the story of Handel and how he came to write "Messiah." Walter Slezak plays the troubled composer, who faces mounting debt, dwindling audience interest, and crippled pain in his hands, as well as the emnity of the Prince of Wales (Hurt Hatfield); Maureen O'Hara costars as Susanna Cibber, the singer who assisted in the efforts to get "Messiah" published. Lassie (7:00 p.m., CBS) presents the first of a two-part Christmas story, in which Timmy and Lassie bring home an elderly toy mender for Christmas. And over on ABC, The Ernie Ford Show (Monday-Friday, noon), Ernie sings at least one Christmas hymn each day.

Locally, WMUR in Manchester airs a charming little program Monday through Friday at 7:00 p.m. called Santa Claus, with the studio transformed into Santa's Workshop at the North Pole, and Santa (kids' show host "Uncle" Gus Bernier" reading letters from kids. You can see a clip from that here. On Thursday, WBZ offers a Boston Christmastime tradition, the play Black Nativity (7:30 p.m.), by American poet Langston Hughes, set to traditional Chrismas carols sung in gospel style; Hughes himself provides the narration. At 8:00 p.m. the same night, WGBH has Dylan Thomas's prose poem A Child's Christmas in Wales, recited by Thomas, against the backdrop of photographs of Thomas's homeland. If you have to choose, I'd choose Black Nativity simply on the grounds that WGBH will probably repeat A Child's Christmas sometime in the next couple of weeks.

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There's plenty more to look forward to this week. Saturday is the final day of the regular season in college football, with Alabama taking on Miami at the Orange Bowl (1:30 p.m. ET, NBC). If you're like me, you might have wondered that the regular season extended so deep into December, until you see the notation "Postponed from last week." The accordian effect of November 22 really does have a long reach, doesn't it? 

On Sunday afternoon, NBC Children's Theatre (3:00 p.m.) presents a kind of alternative to CBS's Young People's Concerts, as conductor Igor Buketoff and the NBC Orchestra demonstrate the range and variety of sounds made by a symphony orchestra. And who wouldn't want to see the conclusion of Pollyanna on Disney's Wonderful World of Color (7:30 p.m., NBC), with the delightful ◀ Hayley Mills, Jane Wyman, and Karl Malden. 

If you wake up early enough on Monday, you'll catch an interesting lineup on Today (7:00 a.m., NBC), with the focus on "second-generation actors" James Mitchum and Peter Fonda. One of them becomes a big star, one of them doesn't (but he's still more successful than I'd ever be). And if you can stay awake long enough, Sing Along with Mitch (10:00 p.m., NBC) has a tribute to World War II and the London Blitz, with Leslie Uggams, Bob McGrath, Deirdre Damon and Sandy Stewart joining in. 

The younger set should be excited by Mr. Novak (Tuesday, 7:30 p.m., NBC), with singer Frankie Avalon as special guest star. And we're in for an eclectic evening on The Bell Telephone Hour (10:00 p.m., NBC), with Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gormé, plus opera great Birgit Nilsson, pianist Lorin Hollander, and dancer Eleanor Powell. Talk about a variety show. 

Wednesday, CBS Reports (7:30 p.m.) features members of President Johnson's cabinet sharing their views on various issues facing the new president, less than one month into his administration. It must still have taken some getting used to seeing the phrase "President Johnson" in print. And on The Danny Kaye Show (10:00 p.m., CBS), the aforementioned Dick Van Dyke is Danny's special guest; among the skits, Dick plays a best man trying to talk Danny out of leaving his bride standing at the altar.

On Thursday, Lauren Bacall makes a rare television appearance in Dr. Kildare (8:30 p.m., NBC) as a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist faced with a serious illness. And on Kraft Suspense Theatre (10:00 p.m., NBC), Mickey Rooney stars in "The Hunt" as a sadistic sheriff who plays a variation of "The Most Dangerous Game" with his prisoners—first he lets them escape, then he tracks them down and kills them. The unfortunate prisoners are James Caan and Bruce Dern.

Friday gives us a case of what might be called "Dueling Serlings," starting with The Chrysler Theatre presentation of "It's Mental Work" (8:30 p.m., NBC), Rod Serling's adaptation of John O'Hara's short story, starring Lee J. Cobb, Harry Guardino, Gena Rowlands, and Archie Moore. After that, you can flip over to CBS for Serling's Twilight Zone story "Ninety Years Without Slumbering" (9:30 p.m.), starring Ed Wynn. When that's over, you've got a choice: The Jack Paar Program (10:00 p.m., NBC), with Jack's guest, BIshop Fulton J. Sheen; or the Fight of the Week (10:00 p.m., ABC), with welterweight champion Emile Griffith moving up a class to fight Rubin "Hurricane" Carter. Remember Carter's long and ultimately successful fight for justice back in the day? This was when he was simply known as a boxer.

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On the cover this week is a program that looks as if it should be one of Bing Crosby's star-studded Christmas specials, but in fact The Bing Crosby Show for Lever Brothers, starring Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Bob Hope, Rosemary Clooney, Kathryn Crosby, and Peter Gennaro, isn't scheduled until February 15 of next year.* But these shows have to be shot sometime, and this one has just wrapped production.

*Bing had done Christmas variety specials on ABC in 1961 and 1962; in 1963, he narrated a program called The Promise, made by Father Patrick Peyton's Family Theatre Productions, which told of the events leading up to the birth of Christ. 

Deano welcomes Rosie to the set.     

One of the challenges in putting together an all-star show like this is getting everyone together at the same time, and as fate would have it, Hope is in and out before Sinatra and Martin have even arrived; Bob is suffering from an eye ailment, and left early for treatment. There's only a brief discussion as to whether or not to replace him with another star, and it's decided that they'll tape his segement at a later date and splice it in. Crosby explains to the audience that Hope picked up a slight cold, "and you know at his age, old Skinose has to take care of himself." 

The special represents "Kathy" Crosby's first television appearance with Bing (as well as her first singing appearance on television), and Crosby's pride in his young wife is evident, kissing her as she sits on his lap. Anyone who's ever watched Bing in action knows how smooth, how practiced and at ease, he always appears ("utterly nervless"), and even his wife is moved to comment on it; at one point, while he was out of earshot, she commented to Rosemary Clooney that "I had no idea he was such a pro. If I had known, I'd have married him sooner." 

Incidentelly, when Kathy Crosby was still Kathryn Grant, she appeared in a 1957 science fiction movie called The Night the World Exploded, and that's airing this Friday overnight at 1:00 a.m. on WBZ.

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MST3K alert: Lost Continent (1951) A rescue mission discovers a "Lost Continent." Cesar Romero, Hillary Brooke. (Sunday, 9:00 a.m., WGN) This brief description hardly does the movie justice, and editing it down to fit a one-hour Sunday morning timeslot doesn't help things. But without the interstitial MST3K features, you don't have a movie anyway: Crypto-dad Hugh Beaumont as one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, rock climbing, and Cesar Romero—really, who could ask for anything more? TV  

A change of pace: the Red Skelton Christmas Show, 1968

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: if you don't try to understand the context in which a classic television program was originally shown, you're losing at least half of its meaning. It's like overcooking vegetables—when you do that, you lose the nutrients, and wind up with something that's soggy, limp, less than what it should have been. Case in point: the Red Skelton Christmas show of 1968.

The Red Skelton Hour aired at 8:30 p.m. Eastern time on Tuesday nights, and in 1968, Tuesday fell on Christmas Eve. It was, in fact, quite an evening if you happened to be watching television; at 9:30 p.m., Red was followed by the famous Apollo 8 broadcast, in which the three astronauts read the Creation story from the Book of Genesis as they orbited the moon. It had been a somber year, if anyone needed reminding: a year of war, assassinations, and riots, and this was reflected in the theme of that year's Christmas show. 

Red's annual Christmas shows were something of a departure from the format of his regular weekly episodes, and including a long set piece running for at least half the episode: "Freddie and the Yuletide Doll," in which Freddie the Freeloader dances with a rag doll (Cara Williams) who comes to life; "The Christmas Spirit," a full-length skit featuring Freddie and Greer Garson putting on a show to benefit orphans; "The Christmas Urchin," in which Freddie and a friendly beat officer (Howard Keel) help a young girl and her widowed mother; and so on. 

The 1968 edition was no exception; in fact, Red functions more as a special guest star on his own show, with the de facto hosting duties taken over by U.S. Senator Everett Dirksen, who had also appeared on Skelton's show the previous year. Dirksen, seated in a wingback chair on a set that included a fireplace and Christmas tree, introduced Red's Silent Spot (repeated from the previous year) and a performance by ballet dancer Jillana, and recited Clement Clark Moore's poem "A Visit from St. Nicholas," before providing the narration for the night's centerpiece: "A Christmas Story—1777." 

As Dirksen reflects on the warmth of Christmases spent with friends and loved ones, he reminds viewers that "there are those whose duties take them away from the glow of the hearth and set them down in strange places where Christmas is sadly just another day." Such a place is Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, the winter headquarters of General George Washington and his Continental Army. The weather is cold, bleak, and cruel, with little for the soldiers to eat or drink, and as many of them die from cold and starvation as from the bullets of British soldiers. What follows is their story, written by Red Skelton, "a story about some brave men whose sacrifices so many years ago enables us to enjoy this holiday tonight."

Skelton is "Patrick," one of the sentries standing guard; he mans his post, even though he knows that the real enemies—the cold, the hunger—are already inside the camp. In the last month, 2,500 men have died "without costing the British one bullet." Money for the war is going to the wrong people, who "get rich on our debts." His spirits are briefly lifted when he receives a Christmas gift from his loving wife: a warm muffler, knitted in blue so he won't be mistaken for a redcoat. Too often, though, the humor in the camp is cynical, the laughter that which is "born of sadness." 

One of the soldiers brings news from Philadelphia, where food is plentiful and people live as if this "wasn't their war." When Patrick asks if they know about the conditions under which the troops are living, he is told that they are, but "the war is not popular with everybody. . .There are young men on the streets who make speeches of protest." 

"If those agitators put self before freedon, before liberty," another soldier replies, "let them come on this battle line. Let both sides fire at them." 

Patrick wonders: "Why does a man who speaks as a traitor believe that the other side will trust him?"

"So it is our lot to do the fighting," the first soldier replies, "even for those who in their fight undermine us. Perhaps we who fight will appreciate liberty a little more." 

But what is liberty? Says Patrick, "Liberty is tomorrow."

Comes Christmas Eve, and Dirksen describes the scene: "The eyes of men half alive blur with tears. The night is bitter cold, but that isn't what makes men cry. Men make men cry. Leaders of men cry, too. The spirit of Liberty makes men cry. The real heroes are dead, but those who still live are learning to be heroes. But do they live, or are they ghosts of the dead?" There is no water to be had other than that in the frozen stream; Patrick becomes so desperate from thirst that when he sees another soldier holding a canteen to his lips, he offers to exchange the muffler his wife made for him in return for just a couple of sips, but the soldier shakes his head, and Patrick runs away in shame and despair. In fact, the canteen is empty, the soldier merely miming the act of drinking: his own thirst had driven him nearly mad.

Remembering that it is Christmas Eve, and determined that they should not forget the night, Patrick sneaks out of the tent and returns with a small evergreen to serve as a Christmas tree for the other soldiers, to remind them of what this night means. "You should see them. There's light in their eyes for the first time. He then lights a candle and attaches it to a branch. I feel rejoicing; my heart overflows with gratitude and hope." For them, the little tree "beholds His divine grace." One soldier, young enough that he should be "at a Christmas dance, not walking around barefooted through the ice and snow, leaving his blood to feed the spring flowers," gazes lovingly at the tree before dying. "At least he saw the tree of the Christ Child before he walked into the valley of death." Patrick take off his muffler and wraps it around the dead boy. Even though there is no church, no altar, the camp is still alive with the spirit of Christmas.

It's an inspiring ending to a somber, stark story, but it might leave some contemporary viewers nonplussed. For instance, we're not accustomed to seeing Skelton in a straight dramatic role, with only flashes of humor. And there's nothing particularly Christmassy about Valley Forge in 1777 other than the time of year. We might wonder—where's the holly and mistletoe? Where are the soldiers singing carols? We don't even have the satisfaction of Washington's dramatic crossing of the Delaware on Christmas, 1776. Instead, we see men enduring incredible hardships; even nature seems to be against them. We know that victory eventually comes to Washington and his army, but we wonder how many of these men will live to see it. It's certainly not the stuff that Hallmark movies are made of.

But that's probably not how it would have been taken back in 1968. Viewed through the prism of the time, it's impossible not to see "A Christmas Story—1777" as an allegory on the Vietnam War. Instead of the bitter cold of Valley Forge in 1777, substitute the heat and humidity of the Southeast Asia jungle in 1968. The colonials are betrayed not by the loyalists and apathetic of Philadelphia, but by "Hanoi Jane" and the others accused of providing aid and comfort to the Viet Cong. The one constant through it all is the American soldier fighting and dying, and wondering if anyone out there cares. 

Is "A Christmas Story—1777" an antiwar story? It presents war in all its horror, stripped of its glory and nobility, reducing it to a desperate quest for survival. And yet, despite everything, the men know why they are there and what they are fighting for; it is what keeps them there, through it all, so that even though some will desert, many of them keep coming back. It's no secret that both Dirksen and Skelton were strong supporters of Vietnam*, and some might think that makes them, in part, responsible for the suffering and death that followed. Does this negate the power of what we see here? I don't think so; it doesn't seek to deny the horrors of war, and whatever one might have thought of Vietnam, either then or now, they way they were treated by many Americans after the war remains shameful. 

*Three weeks later, on the January 14, 1969 show (just before Richard Nixon's inauguration), Skelton would do his well-known and dramatic rendition of "The Pledge of Allegiance." 

Seen in context, Red Skelton's 1968 Christmas show takes on a different dimension, one that's perhaps more dramatic, more meaningful, even (for some) more controversial. In the end, I don't think it matters whether or not you agree with the message; what is important is that knowing the context enriches both the program itself, and the way in which we experience it. It also proves, once again, that there's more to "mere television" than one might think. TV  

This week in TV Guide: December 6, 1975

Television is a lot like the weather: people complain about it, but nobody does anything about it. In this week's cover story, Neil Hickey looks at one of the most controversial attempts to do something about television: "family viewing time." 

Family viewing time—defined as the hours between 7 and 9:00 p.m. Eastern time—was written into the National Association of Broadcasters' Television Code for the beginning of the 1975-76 season, in response to growing alarm over the amount of violence on television. Now, this is nothing new, as faithful readers will testify; concern over TV violence has been around almost as long as TV itself, and tends to spike in the wake of any traumatic national event. However, the most recent TV Guide poll, conducted by Opinion Research Company, shows that such worries have risen markedly, with more than seven out of 10 Americans convinced that "television programs, overall, are much too violent." Under family viewing time, no program deemed "inappropriate for viewing by a general familiy audience" would be aired during those two hours.

Almost immediately, however, a hue and cry arose that this amounted to "censorship," that the ruling was the result of buckling to pressure from Congress, and that it wouldn't work anyway, since children themselves don't limit their viewing to early evening hours. (More than 20 million children between the ages of 2 and 17 are watching TV at 9:00 p.m., and 5.3 million are still watching at 11:00 p.m.) And last month, the Writers Guild, Directors Guild, and Screen Actors Guild, brought suit against the FCC, the NAB, and the three commercial networks, charging that family viewing time was "the product of political coercion" and a violation of the First Amendment. Defenders of the policy have been equally adamant that family viewing time was, at the very least, a step in the right direction, a guarantee that there would be at least two inoffensive hours of television a day, and an aid to parents attempting to oversee their children's viewing. But what does the public think about it all? 

Well, as Richard Dawson might say, here is what the survey says. Not surprisingly, a little more than half the public had either never heard of it at all or was uncertain as to what the details were. However, once the details were explained to them, the publicsx 's opinion starts to come into focus. Asked if they were in favor of such a rule or opposed to it, 82 percent replied yes, with only seven percent opposing it. Households with children were more strongly in favor than those without, and the approval rate for women was slightly higher than men, 85% to 77%. Seniors and those without a college degree were also more likely to support it. Eight out of ten respondants said they did not feel as if family programming standards were being forced on them, and 56% replied that they were hopeful television might improve as a result of the rule. 

Some other trends to notice: while 54% felt there was too much sex on television, 71% said there was too much violence, and 44% felt violence was more objectionable than sex, while 22% felt the opposite. However, when asked whether or not there should be stricter controls on programming, seven out of 10 felt that the family itself should make that decision, and of those who did think there should be stricter controles, more than half felt those controls should come from the industry, rather than the government. 

The conclusions, says Hickey, are broadly that the public feels there's too much violence, that the concept of family viewing time is a good one, and that 80% of the public approves of the rule designed to bring it about. 

Of course, things have changed since then. In 1976, family viewing time was found unconstitutional as a violation of the First Amendment; the NAB Code itself went away in 1983. Cable programming was never under the control of the government or the NAB anyway, and as cable grew, it became a moot point. Anyway, with the advent of on-demand programming, you can watch what you want whenever you want anyway. But then, one could argue that the definition of "family" itself is so up in the air, so maybe none of it matters. 

 

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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 #1: Two different syndicated Kirshner episodes again this week; in the first, Steppenwolf, Graham Central Station and Emmylou Harris are guests. Music: “Mr. Penny Pincher”’, and “‘Carotine” (Steppenwolf)

Kirshner #2: Performers: Janis lan, Pure Prairie League and Chuck Mangione. Songs include “At Seventeen,” “When the Party’s Over.”

Special: Helen Reddy's guests are Glen Campbell, Anne Murray, Johnny Rivers, soul group Rufus featuring Chaka Khan, and soul artists the Whitneys. Also: James Taylor's hit “You’ve Got a Friend” and a tribute to Gordon Lightfoot. 

Well, this is a tough one. Ordinarily, I'd be leaning toward the Special, but for two things: I can't stand Helen Reddy, and I can't stand James Taylor. I particularly can't stand James Taylor singing "You've Got a Friend," which only serves to make me an enemy. Meanwhile, Glen Campbell and Johnny Rivers are just fine, but this week's songs are far from their best. And so this leaves a pair of Kirshner concerts, of which I'm going to give the edge to #2, with Janis Ian singing two of her biggest, and Chuck Mangione as the hottest horn around. This week, Kirshner takes the prize.

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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.

There are, as Cleveland Amory sees it, four categories of shows in the 1975-76 season: "dicks, docs, damsels in distress and barrel-of-laughs ethnics." Into the last category falls this week's show, the ABC sitcom Welcome Back, Kotter, and as Cleve says, "you could do a lot worse." Kotter, as you probably know, gives us Gabe Kaplan as the teacher who returns to his former school ten years later, assigned to teach a class of "Special Guidance Remedial Academics." Although the premise may sound hokey, and it's not particularly convincing (John Travolta, as Barbarino, is "a pretty boy who looks as if someone stole his lollipop."), it is, most of the time, very funny.

Credit for much of that goes to Kaplan, "a versatile comedian who can be convincing when the occasion demands and, when it doesn’t, can break out in the wildest stuff this side of Freddie Prinze." He is, says Amory, "in many ways the best new comedy figure" of the season, who looks like he's having fun, and makes the viewers feel the same way. Marcia Strassman comes in for kudos as well, as "one TV wife whos so charming that she doesn't make you wonder what her husband sees in her." 

Amory also credits strong scriptwriting, especially in an episode that give us Kotter refusing to pass Washington (Lawrence-Hilton Jacobs) a passing grade just because he's an athlete, and another that deals with teenage pregnancy with a twist, when Hotsie Totzi (Debralee Scott) fakes being pregnant to prove to the rest that "I ain't easy. I'm a lady." It is, Cleve says, "both funny and touching," and when it comes to sitcoms, that's a pretty good combination.

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The Yuletide specials are out in force this week, particularly of the animated kind; there's still time to get the kids that present from the commercials!

For all-out value, nothing tops CBS's Friday doubleheader of How the Grinch Stole Christmas (8:00 p.m. PT) and Frosty the Snowman (8:30 p.m.). The Grinch, of course, features Boris Karloff's memorable narration and Thurl Ravenscroft's equally memorable rendition of "You're a Mean One, Mister Grinch."; Frosty has perhaps the weakest of the classic Rankin-Bass storylines, but the irrepressible Jimmy Durante helps make up for it. That's followed by a repeat of The Homecoming: a Christmas Story (9:00 p.m., CBS), the de-facto pilot for The Waltons, with Patricia Neal and Richard Thomas and a tense Christmas Eve, 1933.

Speaking of Rankin-Bass, Mickey Rooney is, for my money, the definitive R-B Santa Claus, and he gets to demonstrate it on consecutive nights, with Santa Claus Is Coming to Town (Tuesday, 8:00 p.m., ABC) and The Year Without a Santa Claus (Wednesday, 8:00 p.m., ABC). In the former, we see how an infant foundling becomes the Jolly Old Elf; the latter gives us an elf who's old but not so jolly, as a cynical, sickly Santa wonders if he's all washed up. Highlights abound, with Fred Astaire narrating and singng on Tuesday night, and Dick Shawn and George S. Irving doing the Snow Miser/Heat Miser duet to hammy perfection. Don't overlook another Tuesday night R-B special, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (8:30 p.m., CBS), with Joel Grey, Tammy Grimes, George Gobel, and John McGiver. 

For those wanting something less cartoony, John Denver's Rocky Mountain Christmas (Wednesday, 9:00 p.m., ABC) follows The Year Without a Santa Claus, and offers Valerie Harper, Oliva Newton-John, and Steve Martin in a tuneful celebration from Aspen. Your enjoyment of this will be directly related to how well you like the participants. And from the big screen, it's the movie that, in my opinion, ranks at the top when it comes to Christmas: Miracle on 34th Street (Sunday, 4:00 p.m., KTVU in San Francisco), with John Payne, Maureen O'Hara, Natalie Wood, and film's greatest Santa, the Oscar-winning Edmund Gwynn. 

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Never mind the Sweathogs—let's take a look at a real bad boy, or at least one that's trying to turn over a new leaf: Tony Franciosa, currently starring in ABC's detective series Matt Helm. As Al Stump reminds us, Franciosa came to Helm known for two things: an undeniable talent (he was nominated for a Best Actor Oscar in 1957 for A Hatful of Rain), and a reputation for a hair-trigger temper that has seen him called "hotheaded, arrogant, spoiled, unreliable and a 6-foot-2-inch menace to coexistence on the set." He's feuded with studio executives, punched directors and photographers, and alienated many people with whom he's worked. While he doesn't deny that there have been times—"I've been called a lot of things" he says—he's also less than repentant, nothing that much of the criticism has come from "uncreative, computerized men who are typical of those who've taken over much of the industry. Weird, Kafkaesque types." But, he acknowledges, you can't fight the system, "so I've become more resigned and relaxed about it. I won’t be pushed around, but I'm fatalistic."

It's understandable that there are skeptics out there; some point to the $260,000 that ABC is paying him for 13 episodes of Helm, but others think he really has matured. Franciosa readily admits that he took the part for "three reasons—money, money and money," but he's also settled in his home life with his (fourth) wife and two children. "Five years ago I never thought I'd become a homebody, raising babies, dogs, cats and rabbits." He's also started saving money, to keep the kids from having to deal with the "dirt poor" childhood he remembers. 

His road to stardom, unlike many, started out strongly; a Tony nomination for the Broadway version of Hatful, followed by success in television and movies. Then he started falling into disfavor in some circles for criticizing scripts, going through marriages, and having a brittle relationship with the press. In The Name of the Game, many felt he outacted his co-stars, Gene Barry and Robert Stack, but he claims he was asked to take a pay cut, and had to work in insufferable conditions, including 105-degree heat in Las Vegas that had people passing out. The studio, Universal, has a different story, of course; they eventually sacked him, replacing him with guest stars. 

On the set of Matt Helm, he keeps to himself for the most part, but he's also been—again, for the most part—easy to work with. He's had several opportunities to complain about scripts, blocking, delays, injuries, and the like, but has passed them up. Matt Helm has only a 14-episode run, but Franciosa remains busy doing guest roles through the 1990s, before dying at age 77 in 2006.

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Frank Swertlow reports on change that's on the horizon at ABC, with a batch of cancellations, headed by the highly-touted Saturday Night Live with Howard Cosell (thus, and most notably, freeing up the name for NBC's Saturday Night). Other casualties include When Things Were Rotten; That’s My Mama; Barbary Coast; Mobile One and the aforementioned Matt Helm. The network's second season holds some potential: among others series, we can look forward to Six Million Dollar Man spinoff The Bionic Woman, the limited-run series Rich Man, Poor Man (the term miniseries hasn't been coined yet), Laverne and Shirley, a spinoff from Happy Days, the variety hour Donny and Marie, and The ABC Monday Night Movie. Not a bad exchange, if you ask me. 

But enough of the future; let's take a look at what else is on this week, starting with Cosell's Saturday night show (8:00 p.m., ABC). Howard's guests are Orson Welles, Paul Anka, Billy Crystal, and gymnast Olga Korbut. That's a pretty good lineup, leaving one to wonder just who the week link in the show is. And on KQED, the PBS affiliate in San Francisco, it's Night of the Python (9:00 p.m.), three hours of routines from Monty Python's Flying Circus. Unless it's a pledge night, that sounds like a pretty good bet to me.

On 60 Minutes (Sunday, 7:00 p.m., CBS), former Secret Service agent Clint Hill joines Mike Wallace for a candid and emotional interview as he recalls the day President Kennedy was assassinated in 1963. I had the opportunity to ◀ meet Hill back in 2013 during one of the 50th anniversary events (back when we were all younger); a very interesting man who suffered a great deal in the years after the assassination; I'm glad that he's been able to deal with the demons that haunted him. 

Monday features a salute to Lucille Ball on Dinah! (8:00 p.m., KBHK), with Lucie Arnaz, Vivian Vance, Lucy's mother Dee Dee Ball, Zsa Zsa Gabor, and PR representative Charles Pomerantz. And in part one of a two-part All in the Family (9:00 p.m., CBS) deals with the Stivics' overdue baby; it's driving Gloria crazy and driving Mike out of the house. (Part two, which airs Tuesday at 9:30 p.m., is a flashback to Mike and Gloria preparing for their wedding.

Police officer-turned actor Eddie Egan (the inspiration for Popeye Doyle in The French Connection) works back-to-back shifts on NBC Tuesday, starting on Police Woman (9:00 p.m.), where he and former police office David Toma (the inspiration for, well, you know) play a couple of hoods who will, I'm sure, cross paths with Pepper. Who'll sneeze first? After that, he plays a cop taken hostage in a bungled robbery, who depends on Lloyd Bridges' Joe Forrester to save him (10:00 p.m.)

Joan Fontaine makes a rare television appearance this week on a special two-hour Cannon (Wednesday, 9:00 p.m., CBS) as a former film star who retains our avuncular private eye to find her missing son. Appropriately, the episode featurse a fine supporting cast, including David Hedison, Richard Hatch, Linden Chiles, Dana Elcar, John Veronon, and Jack Carter. And the old ABC documentary series Saga of Western Man takes a look at the Age of Discovery in "1492," narrated by Fredric March. (9:00 p.m., KTVU in Oakland)

Barbara Walters wasn't the first to present gossip specials masquerading as celebrity interviews; as an example, Rona Barrett hosts an hour's worth of chats with James Caan, Michael Caine, Elliott Gould, and Burt Reynolds. (Thursday 2:00 p.m., CBS) Notice the afternoon air time, rather than a prime time slot; why not, considering that's where you find the soap operas. Incidentelly, CBS plans an announcement warning that the program may not be suitable for ali family members

Friday features the Hallmark Hall of Fame presentation "The Rivalry" (8:30 p.m, NBC), the story of the Lincoln-Douglas debates, with Arthur Hill as Abraham Lincoln, Charles Durning as Stephen Douglas, and Hope Lange as Mrs. Douglas, caught between support for her husband and sympathy for Lincoln's anti-slavery message. That wouldn't quite pass muster for a Hallmark Christmas presentation today, would it? 

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MST3K alert: The Amazing Colossal Man (1957) Plutonium transforms an army colonel into a 70-foot madman. Glenn Langan.Cathy Downs. (Saturday, 1:30 p.m., KBHK in the Bay Area) Admit it; you'd be plenty teed off too if you'd been transformed, through no fault of your own, into a 70-foot giant. Unfortunately, since the rights to use the movie expired, you can no longer see the MST3K version except on YouTube. However, you can catch the unwanted, unasked-for sequel, War of the Colossal Beast, with a completely different cast. Take it from me: if you've seen one colossal man, you've seen them all. TV