This week in TV Guide: June 1, 1974

We continue our tour through American history, TV Guide-style, we come to late spring, 1974, and the question before the house (and Senate, for that matter), is this: whether or not the impeachment of President Nixon, if it comes to that, should be televised.

Remember, at this point in time we're still a long way from regular television coverage of the House and Senate. C-SPAN is just a gleam in Brian Lamb's eye; with the exception of the State of the Union and other major speeches, cameras have never been permitted in the hallowed halls of Congress. With an eye toward the ultimate in summer replacement series, TV Guide's Neil Hickey takes Congressional temperatures to see what the forecast is.

Hickey canvassed 135 members of the House; 78 favored full coverage, and another 10 leaned toward it, while the remainder opposed bringing in the cameras. Interestingly, there doesn't seem to be a partisan split on this issue—Illinois Democrat Dan Rostenkowski, who would wind up one of the most powerful men in the House, is strongly against it. "Every one of us in the House is 'political,' and that animal in all of us will surface if each is allowed an amount of time to make a televised speech." He fears that under these circumstances, members who didn't usually speak publicly would be forced into it, lest their constituents wonder why they were silent on the issue. 

On the other hand, future New York City mayor Ed Koch, then a member of the House, favors it: "We do—in democratic fashion—what the Russians and the Chinese, who have closed societies, do by revolution and killing." Republican representative Delbert Latta of Ohio, who also favors coverage, thinks the public will see through any attempt at grandstanding, but Pennsylvania Republican George Goodling thinks "no good" will come from televising the hearings. And Walter Fauntrov, a Democrat from the District of Columbia, worries that national television coverage might endanger the right to a fair trial later on; nevertheless, he feels the public's right to know supersedes these concerns, which he adds can be mitigated by safeguards. Future House Speaker Tip O'Neill opposes the cameras, but everyone knows the true answer lies with the current Speaker, Carl Albert of Oklahoma, and he's not speaking.

It winds up a moot point, at least this time. Although the House Judiciary Committee votes to send the articles of impeachment to the full House, President Nixon resigns before things go any further. By the time of President Clinton's impeachment, cameras are already standard issue in Congress. It is fascinating, though, to see the representatives struggling with this question, caught up in the conflict between practical tradition and the march of technology. What's really amazing is that by the time of Donald Trump's two impeachment trials, most people didn't even seem to notice. I may be generalizing that; I can't recall whether or not the networks provided complete coverage, or if large parts of it were relegated to the cable news channels. But it certainly represents a different time, doesn't it?

l  l  l

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 television season comes to an end, and with it comes one of the industry's most coveted awards: The Amorys. In the midst of a humorous take on awards shows, Cleve dispenses his honors on the best of the television season.

Telly Savalas, star of Kojak, wins Best Actor in a Dramatic Show; Jean Marsh of Upstairs, Downstairs wins Best Actress in a Dramatic Show. The supporting races each end in three-way ties: Supporting Actor is split between Gordon Jackson (Upstairs, Downstairs), John Alderton (Upstairs, Downstairs) and Ralph Waite (The Waltons), while Angela Badderly (Upstairs, Downstairs), Nicola Pagett (Upstairs, Downstairs) and Rachel Gurney (Upstairs, Downstairs) make the Supporting Actress race an intramural affair.

Caroll O'Connor of All in the Family and Mary Tyler Moore of—what else? The Mary Tyler Moore Show—take home Best Actor and Actress in a Comedy; Ed Asner and Ted Knight demonstrate the power of MTM's supporting cast by dividing Supporting Actor, while on the Supporting Actress side there are no losers! Valerie Harper (MTM), Suzanne Pleshette (The Bob Newhart Show), Adrienne Barbeau (Maude) and Susan St. James (McMillan & Wife) share the honors. Oh, and Karl Malden and Michael Douglas of The Streets of San Francisco win best Support of Each Other. Walter Cronkite is Best Newscaster, and William F. Buckley Jr. is both Best Interviewer and Best Interviewee. Finally, the shows: Kojak is Best New Drama, Good Times is Best New Comedy, and Calucci's Dept. is Best New Comedy to be Canceled.

An Editor's Note at the end tells us that "The Amory Awards to not necessarily reflect the views of TV Guide, but the editors will defend to the death, or thereabouts, Mr. Amory's right to bestow them." Freedom of the Press still lives! Well, sort of.

l  l  l

On special occasions, we get to take a simultaneous look at three of the great rock music shows of the pre-MTV era: NBC's The Midnight Special, ABC's In Concert, and the syndicated Don Kirshner's Rock Concert. Let's look at this week's listings and see who's better, who's best.

Yes, this is a very special week. Not only do we have all three of them this week, but thanks to the multiple stations carrying Kirshner, we actually have two editions to compare to Special and Concert. Let's not waste any time; we'll get right to it!

Kirshner #1 (KRCR, Redding): The Mark-Almond band, Dave Mason and Jessie Colin Young are the guests. Also a taped segment featuring the late Jim Croce. Highlights: "The Neighborhood Man" (Mark-Almond), "Baby...Please" (Mason), "Song for Juli" (Young).

Kirshner #2 (KOVR, Sacramento): The Eagles, Linda Ronstadt and Jackson Browne team up on "Take It Easy." Other highlights: "Silver Threads and Golden Needles" (Ronstadt), "James Dean" (Eagles, Browne).

Special: The Kinks are this week's hosts, with the Electric Light Orchestra, Buddy Miles, and rock artists Suzi Quatro and Alan Price. Highlights: "You Really Got Me" (Kinks), "Showdown" (ELO), "Life is What You Make It" (Miles), "Glycerine Queen" (Quatro).

In Concert: Emerson, Lake and Palmer and Black Oak Arkansas, from the California Jam. Highlights: "Lucky Man," "Karn Evil 9 Impressions 1 and 3" (Emerson, Lake & Palmer), "Hot 'n' Nasty," "Dixie" (Black Oak Arkansas).

What a feast of choices, hmm? I admit that I'm not a fan of anyone on Kirshner #2, but they're all big name, and if you like them, it's a spectacular show. In Concert would probably have been better if they'd had Emerson, Lake and Palmer for the whole 90 minutes. And Kirshner #1 has hits from top to bottom, and you can't go wrong with Mark-Almond as your lead act. But The Midnight Special has a very strong cast, from the Kinks through to Suzi Quatro, and one of my personal favorites, ELO. Any show with them will almost always get the nod, and so we'll give the edge this week to The Special. I wonder when we'll run across a matchup like this again?

l  l  l

How about some food? If you're like me (and, as always, be glad if you aren't), you might have had hot dogs on Memorial Day. But what if you're looking for something just a little different from the typical wiener-in-a-bun? 

If you're interested, the Fourth of July is right around the corner!

l  l  l

We're in the Bay Area this week, and of course things are a little different, given that we usually visit the area in one of our 1960s editions. But let's see what kind of fun we have in store!

One of the highlights has to be KQED, 20th annual Auction, which begins Saturday (1:00 p.m. PT) and runs throughout the week. Several PBS stations throughout the nationstaged fundraisers like this in the 70s, including KTCA in the Twin Cities. These were tremendously fun affairs to watch; Action Auction, our local event, was once held in the Garden Court at Southdale, the nation's first indoor mall, and for several years after that was broadcast from the State Fairgrounds; representatives from all the local stations took part as guest auctioneers, selling routine items as well as vacations, cars, and popcorn wagons. KQED has a fine collection of prizes this year: a guest role as an extra on The Streets of San Francisco, cruises to Hawaii, South America and Alaska, and an antique Persian rug. This article relates the colorful history of KQED's auction which, like that of KTCA's, has long since faded into the ether of television history.

As far as Saturday morning is concerned, do you remember this era, when ABC was really into doing hour-long "movie" cartoons, often crossing over with the network's prime-time programs, past and present? Well, Marlo Thomas voices her most famous character, Ann Marie, in ABC's animated movie That Girl in Wonderland (11:00 a.m.), in which she visits Snow White, the Wizard of Oz, and Sleeping Beauty while preparing a book of fairy tales. Meanwhile, the real Alice in Wonderland, played by Charlotte Henry, turns up in the classic, star-studded 1933 movie version (6:30 p.m., KGSC), with a guest cast that includes Gary Cooper, Edward Everett Horton, W.C. Fields, Richard Arlen, Cary Grant, Billy Barty, and Jack Oakie. 

Also on Saturday, Summer Semester (6:30 a.m.) begins an interesting, and timely, series on "The American Presidency," with political scientist Dr. Robert Remini is the lecturer; when I saw the topic I thought it might be someone I'd read in college, but no such luck.

Sunday gives us a Columbo repeat (8:30 p.m.) that's on my list of all-time favorite political episodes; a "dynamic" Senatorial campaign stages the murder of his campaign manager to look like an attempt on his life, in an effort to win the election, Jackie Cooper is very good, and appropriately greasy and shift, asn the candidate parties won't kill to get. Later, the latter-day Walter Mitty, George Plimpton, does another of his documentaries in which he goes behind the scenes of his attempt to become an actor in John Wayne's Rio Lobo. (9:00 p.m., KTXL).

And speaking of smarmy, greasy characters as we were a moment ago, Rod Steiger is up there with the best of them, and he chews the scene in the movie No Way to Treat a Lady (Monday, 9:00 p.m., ABC), as a "mad but clevel" killer. Would have made a great episode of Columbo, don't you think? We've also got a "Panic Now!" CBS Reports special entitled "Food—The Next Crisis!" (10:00 p.m.) that deals with the coming food shortage in the United States in the wake of the "worldwide competition for food." For instance, "more American-grown food is being 'drained and tapped' abroad because “grain-eating and pork-eating countries have now acquired a taste for beef." The result is sure to mean tightening the belt for American consumers.

Tuesday is the night of the California primary, a local affair given that it's a non-presidential year, but KTVU celebrates in another of my all-time favorite political thrillers, 1962's Advise and Consent (8:00 p.m.), based on the Pulitzer-winning novel of the same title, with a cast that includes Henry Fonda, Charles Laughton, Don Murray, Walter Pidgeon, Burgess Meredith, Peter Lawford, Gene Tierney, Franchot Tone, Lew Ayres, George Grizzard, and Paul Ford. The story ain't bad, either.

In case you haven't noticed, the week is heavy with movie highlights, since in the land of the rerun, the movie is often king. We start with 1964's The World of Henry Orient (Wednesday, 9:00 p.m., NBC), which Judith Crist really likes, calling it a "delightful 1964 lineation of the agonies and ecstasies, the laughter and the lump-inthroat of teen-age girlhood," with Tippy Walker and Merrie Spaeth as the adolescents, and Angela Lansbury, Peter Sellers, Paula Prentiss, Tom Bosley and Bibi Osterwald are some of the adults.

That's followed on Thursday by the network prime-time premiere of The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (9:00 p.m,. CBS), with Maggie Smith brilliant in her Best Actress Oscar-winning performance. Crist adores this one as well, particularly Smith's portrayal of "the spinster teacher, a romantic tyrant, a woman of self-delusion who imposes her illusions upon others in the guise of putting 'old heads on young shoulders.'  'Give me a girl at an impressionable age,' she declares, 'and she is mine for life.'" And that, friends, is why school is so important—for good or ill.

On Friday, one of television's most literate and funniest sitcoms, The Odd Couple (9:30, ABC), comes up with a doozy: Metropolitan Opera star Marilyn Horne, one of my favorite singers, stars as Felix's latest discovery, "a timid woman who’s too shy to perform in Felix’s opera unless her friend Oscar is in it too." And that leads us to. . .

l  l  l

MST3K alert: The Amazing Colossal Man (1957) Plutonium transforms an army colonel into a 70-foot madman. Glenn Lanagan, Cathy Downes, William  (Friday, 11:00 p.m., KBHK in San Francisco) Admit it; you'd be plenty teed off too if you'd been transformed, though 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

If you enjoy the content here and want to support my broader creative work, please consider leaving a tip at my Ko-fi page. Any amount you contribute helps me continue writing, researching, and sharing these articles and projects. Thank you!

This week in TV Guide: April 3, 1971

I'm going to make an assumption here, which may or may not be correct, that most of you already know what all the talk was about with cable TV. In fact, to show the speed at which technology evolves, this TV Guide—54 years old—is previewing something which has already come and gone. 

Whereas William J. Slattery's cover story offers various prophesies as to the present and future of cable, we already know how the story ends: cable shakes up the television landscape, becoming the dominant form of TV consumption, HBO becomes the home of prestige drama, various other cable networks get in on the act, and then—streaming. And the whole thing starts over again, with one exception: today, we're speculating on whether there is a future for television, whether the broadcast networks will even survive, and whether or not "television" will be good for anything other than coverage of live sports.

Now, I know there are a lot of people—millions, in fact—who still subscribe to cable TV. In fact, there's even been some speculation that, with streaming prices continuing to rise to offset the cost of program acquisition, cable packages might make a comeback. I don't think that will happen, but I don't think the complete demise of cable is going to happen in the next few weeks, either. The existence of this article, however, is proof of one thing: the surest way to either become a multimillionaire or go flat broke is to predict the future of television.

Therefore, I'm proposing we move beyond the cover story, and look at some other features, beginning with a look at Lee Meriwether's life after Miss America. As Rowland Barber says, she carries all the attributes of an average, ordinary housewife: happily married with two kids, whom she ferries to and from school; attractive, unprepossessive, has her mom babysit the kids at least once a week, somewhat scatterbrained, active in Scouting, bakes cookies, has an interesting hobby. It just so happens that her hobby is acting, and her former activity was beauty pageant queen. 

She's currently playing Andy Griffith's wife on The New Andy Griffith Show, between stints as a technician on The Time Tunnel and Barnaby Jones's daughter-in-law, with a side stint as Catwoman in the Batman movie, and a future run on All My Children. The "Miss America thing," she explains, was an accident; a friend entered her in the competition, and she didn't even know about it until one of the judges called to remind her that she was supposed to audition that day. She found it unbelievable when she went on to win Miss San Francisco, and knew she "didn't have a chance" in the Miss California pageant; her victory there propelled her to Atlantic City, where she would have been happy to finish in the top 10. (No Miss California had ever finished outside the top 10.) Her father died shortly before the pageant, and her mother convinced her to go ahead, that now it might be her only chance to afford college. The 1954pageant (for Miss America 1955) was the first to be televised (and the last, to that point, not hosted by Bert Parks), and to this day, she has no memory of having won "until a year later, when I saw a film of my night. I had been interviewed by Bess Myerson. I was hysterical. I said something about hoping my father somehow knew about this. Then I watched the emcee prodding me to take The Walk, and there I was, moving down the promenade, crying all the way." 

From there she went to a stint on The Today Show, followed by acting lessons (where she met her husband, actor Frank Aletter), and "that's been the story of my life ever since. My acting career has never been terribly important. It just happened." 

And then there's Anthony Quayle, currently starring in NBC's British import Strange Report, where he plays a former police detective who specializes in solving unusual crimes. He's a quiet man, reports Ross Drake—so unassuming, yet proud and comfortable within himself, that it's hard to believe he's an actor. He credits World War II for molding him into the man he is today; "I became violently aware that the theater and literature are of relatively little consequence. I became aware of another world of power and politics and death, of living and dying for what you believe in," he explains. That doesn't mean that his craft isn't important to him; on the contrary, he believes the theater has a purpose in this modern world, to be "a linking force, a shared heritage of that part of the world that speaks English." But "I no longer cared about those who were elegant and witty—I didn't give a damn for them. I came to care about a man I could stand beside and depend on with my life. It was rather a delayed manhood, but finally, I had become a man." He downplays his own accomplishments in the war; "I wasn't being brave then. I was sending other people to be brave." 

Faced with several prospects after excelling on stage, including an offer from MGM to come to America to be a producer, he instead chose the directorship of the Shakespeare Memorial Theater at Stratford-on-Avon. His success there gave him a "powerful sense of pride in both his country and his profession." It took him away from acting, though, and the likelihood that he might well have become "one of the commanding actors of the English stage." It did, however, allow him to build a family and a successful personal life with his second wife and their three children, to all of whom he's devoted. So acting has, sadly, taken something of a backseat. "I'm very aware that, in order to be a great actor, one has to be absolutely and selfishly dedicated to that end. The difference between a good actor and a great one is very small, but it's vital." He does not, he believes, fall into that "great" category, despite an Oscar nomination (for Anne of the Thousand Days), and his turn in the Broadway hit "Sleuth." 

He enjoys television; "I don't think anyone's yet realized how much televison affects people's lives. If one could get over certain values of sanity and humor, one might have an influence, which might lead to more." He concedes that his friend, Sir John Gielgud, is right that he has some regrets he didn't have the chance to become a great actor, but "While John's right that it's been a disappointment to me, and a sadness, it's been a very minor sadness, because there have been so many satisfying compensations." And while, Drake concludes, he could be rationalizing, "it's hard not to hope that he isn't." Says Quayle, "I wouldn't change it. I wouldnt' have it any other way—not at all."

Finally, there's the sports beat, and Melvin Durslag makes his fearless prognostications for baseball, 1971. In the days of four divisions and no wild cards, it doesn't take up much room. His picks for the National League are the Cubs (!) in the East and Cincinnati in the West; in the American League, he likes Baltimore in the East and Oakland in the West. And Mel gets three of the four right on the nose. The only one he misses is the NL East. It's not the Cubs, of course, but the Pittsburgh Pirates, who go on to edge Baltimore in a thrilling seven-game World Series to take it all.

l  l  l

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

This week, Cleveland Amory puts himself in the line of fire, with William F. Buckley Jr.'s Firing Line, and it should come as no surprise that a man as linguistically clever as our Cleve would be taken with the polysyllabic Buckley, who once defended his use of long words by saying that "they say what I mean to say." And when it comes to television, Buckley, after a tentative start, has come across like a man to the (TV) manor born, who, "when he added to his forensic foreplay an ability to pace his parries, he began to make mincemeat of such adversaries as David Susskind, Arthur Schlesinger Jr. and Norman Mailer," liberal icons all.

And that's one of the things, I found, about the young Buckley: whether or not you agreed with him (and I did, especially when he was younger), there was something about him that, as Amory says, is guaranteed to "continue to charm the few and madden the many—or, depending on how you look at him, vice versa. He also plays to win, plays for keeps, engages in conversation with both gloves off. When guest George Wallace once asked him, "Why are you talking so much? This is an interview show," Buckley dryly replied, "No, actually it's not." You're not invited on Firing Line to answer Buckley's questions; you're invited to exchange opinions with him, and the sharper his guest, the more entertaining the show. Unlike many hosts of similar programs, Buckley seems to delight in those guests who can keep up with his banter and repartee; as befits a man of confidence, he has no fear of being upstaged. When black activist Eldridge Cleaver appeared on the show, with his endless complaints about "pigs" [the police, for those of you not in the know], Cleaver at one point pointed out to the host, "Didn't you run for mayor in New York? What happened?" Buckley's unflappable response: "A lot of pigs beat me."

And that, I guess, is the point: if you're confident in yourself, if you have no fear of engaging in open conversation and debate on the issues of the day, then you should have no qualms about discussing them with people with whom you disagree. And you should be able to do so without resorting to personal attacks; just as you attract more flies with honey than vinegar, you often can soothe the savage beast more with wit and charm than invictive and boorishness. (Many of today's social icons could take note of this.) In discussing Arkansas's liberal senator, J. William Fulbright, Buckley said, "It is fashionable among the literati to say of the Vice President [Agnew] nowadays that he is merely a bad joke. By inference one reasons that William Fulbright is a good joke." As Cleve concludes, "A man who can turn a phrase like that can turn us on—and vice versa—any time.

l  l  l

As the networks prepare their fall schedules, the axe has dropped on a variety of shows, mostly of the variety variety. Whereas there were sixteen at the beginning of the current season, there will be but five come this fall, and not a one of them will be new. Among the carnage are two that will go on to long and successful runs in syndication, Hee Haw and The Lawrence Welk Show; the remaining casualties include Johnny Cash and Pearl Bailey on ABC, Ed Sullivan, Jim Nabors, and the Jackie Gleason Honeymooners musicals, and Red Skelton, Andy Williams, Don Knotts, and the Kraft Music Hall on NBC. When all is said and done, the five remaining programs will be Flip Wilson, Dean Martin, and Laugh-In on NBC, and Glen Campbell and Carol Burnett on CBS; of those five, only Carol will have any real shelf life remaining. "There were just too many," according to one network source, who said, "The same talent was turning up everywhere." (This didn't include Hee Haw and Johnny Cash, obviously, since they pretty much had the corner on country stars.) I was going to add that this could spell quite a blow to Bob Hope, considering he never met a variety guest spot he didn't like, but I guess I don't have to. There will be something of a small comeback with Sonny and Cher and Donnie and Marie, but the revival doesn't extend to The Brady Bunch Variety Hour.

I mentioned the dropping axe, and the variety shows weren't the only ones to feel the sting of the executioner's blade. In addition to getting rid of their supply of variety shows, ABC has sacked their trio of prime-time game shows: Let's Make a Deal, The Newlywed Game, and The Reel Game; they've also gotten rid of That Girl, Make Room for Granddaddy, and Dan August, making a total of ten to bite the dust. Their seven new series* include vehicles for Shirley MacLaine and Bobby Sherman; The Persuaders, starring Roger Moore and Tony Curtis (a favorite in the Hadley household); Owen Marshall: Counselor at Law, which the network hopes will do for Arthur Hill what Marcus Welby did for Robert Young, and James Franciscus as the blind detective, Longstreet. There's also an untitled drama for Anthony Quinn, which will wind up as The Man and the City. I think, though don't hold me to it, that only Owen Marshall made it past one season, although The Persuaders was a casualty of British labor (labour?) problems.

*Why seven new series to replace ten old ones? It's partly because of the new Prime Time Access rule, requiring the networks to cede a half hour of prime time back to the affiliates each night.

As far as specials for the new season, the most prestigious will likely be The Six Wives of Henry VIII, a BBC import that CBS plans to air over a six-week period. However, the Hollywood Teletype reports that ABC has plans to adapt Irwin Shaw's current bestseller, Rich Man, Poor Man. Interestingly, "what form the TV version will take is still undecided." And that form, when it is decided, will help to change the landscape of television, if only for a time: the miniseries.

l  l  l

Why wait until the fall for specials, though, when we've got some on tap this week? 

On Saturday, WHDH, the CBS affiliate in Boston, presents a Peanuts special that was actually broadcast last week, when WHDH probably had something else on. It's "Play It Again, Charlie Brown" ((5:30 p.m.), one of the lesser-known Peanuts stories. Lesser known? I have to admit, I never missed these specials growing up, and yet I have absolutely no memory of this one at all: Schroeder is the featured character, with Lucy trying to win his attention by arranging for him to give a concert at a PTA meeting. Trouble is, they're expecting a rock concert, while Schroeder's planning an all-Beethoven schedule. It probably makes for a very funny storyline in the strip, but the animated specials really require Charlie Brown and/or Snoopy as the focal point to carry the interest.

April 4 is Palm Sunday, and ABC premieres Rankin/Bass's Easter special, Here Comes Peter Cottontail (7:00 p.m.), with Danny Kaye as the narrator and Wellington B. Bunny, Vincent Price as the evil Irontail (who wants to dye all Easter eggs black), and Casey Kasem as Peter Cottontail. And speaking of Ed Sullivan, as we were a moment ago, Sunday gives an Ed Sullivan "Special," Ed Sullivan Presents Movin' with Nancy on Stage (8:00 p.m., CBS), which certainly has to be one of the most cumbersome titles on television since Jimmy Durante Presents the Lennon Sisters, and it makes just about as much sense. What this really is is Nancy Sinatra's Vegas nightclub act, with the Osmond Brothers and the Blossoms, being shown in the Sullivan timeslot. Maybe Ed introduces it, maybe he does something else, but it's pretty clear he doesn't do much beyond lending his name to the special, if that was even his idea.

The variety series may be dying, but when it comes to the musical special, things are alive and well. NBC kicks off the week with a doubleheader on Monday: Bob Hope's final special of his 21st season (9:00 p.m.), with Sammy Davis Jr., Lee Marvin, Shirley Jones, and Wally Cox; followed by Diahann Carroll's first special (10:00 p.m.), with Harry Belafonte, Tom Jones, and cameos from Bill Cosby and Donald Sutherland. 

A delightful CBS News Special (and there's a combination of words you don't read often) is the first in a series of "interviews" with key figures from America's war for independence (remember, the Bicentennial is only five years off). "The American Revolution Revisited" (Tuesday, 7:30 p.m.) stars Peter Ustinov as Frederick Lord North, the Prime Minister under George III whose policies helped ignite the war. CBS newsman Eric Sevareid is the host; Ustinov, who "boned up on history and Lord North's writings" in preparation for the show, ad-libs answers to Sevareid's questions. Among his many opinions: John Hancock was nothing more than "A reprehensible character who made his money out of smuggling," and he justified the action of British troops during the Boston Massacre as being done "under provocation."  

On Wednesday, NBC presents A Royal Gala (9:00 p.m.), an all-star benefit for the World Wildlife Fund taped last November in London. Among the dignitaries in the audience are the Royal Family (including the Queen), Queen Juliana of the Netherlands, and future king Juan Carlos of Spain. And on stage, a blend of Americans and Brits, from Petula Clark and Rex Harrison to Glen Campbell and Bob Hope, who apparently won't have any trouble finding work after all. 

One of the biggest is a repeat of John Wayne's star-studded tribute to America, Swing Out, Sweet Land (Thursday, 8:30 p.m., NBC), featuring Jack Benny, Lorne Greene, Bob Hope, Ann-Margret, Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, Rowan and Martin, Red Skelton, Ed McMahon, Michael Landon, Dan Blocker, and others. Did you notice how many of those names were also stars of series appearing on NBC? (There's also Lucille Ball, Celeste Holm, Greg Morris, and some other non-Peacock celebs.)

Good Friday features a couple of low-key Easter specials, with Mike Douglas narrating Love is the Answer (7:30 p.m., WBZ), the story of Boys Town in Rome, Italy. And for Frankie Avalon, Easter is the word, as he spends his Easter vacation hosting an easy hour of music from Southern California and Mexico with Nana Lorca, Jan Daley, the Burgundy Street Singers, Joey Forman, Laurindo Almeida, and the James Hibbard dancers. At least Frankie sings "Easter Parade," which I guess qualifies it as a seasonal special.

l  l  l

By the way, we've also got some non-special (i.e., regularly scheduled) programs worth noting this week. Saturday afternoon gives us the finale of the pro bowling season, the Firestone Tournament of Champions (3:30 p.m., ABC), with the winner taking home a cool $25,000 (which was a very big prize back then, the equal of many professional golf tournaments). Last year, Don Johnson won the championship with one of 1970's most memorable sports broadcasts, rolling a 299 in the final. (Oh, that 10-pin!)

On Sunday, NBC's Experiment in TV (3:00 p.m.) presents a rerun of 1969's "The Cube," which I have to admit is the kind of story that sounds right up my alley. "Setting: a small, doorless and windowless chamber of translucent plastic in which a man seems trapped. Visitors enter through quickly appearing—and disappearing—doors, leading him in bizarre, often inane discussions, evidently to frustrate and confuse him. Are they—or the cube in which he's trapped—real?" Kind of like what life is like today, isn't it? It's produced and directed by Jim Henson,  one of several live-action films he did in the 1960s, before focusing entirely on The Muppets.

Monday's Gunsmoke (7:30 p.m., CBS) is a thriller, as a group of bounty hunters holds Matt's friends hostage while awaiting his return; seems they've got a score to settle with him. Is anyone at all surprised that one of the bad guys is Bruce Dern? But you might raise an eyebrow when seeing that another of them is Russell Johnson—the Professor! Oh, no!

Tuesday is baseball's Opening Day, as close to an undeclared national holiday as they came back in the day, and we'll kick things off from Fenway Park, as the Boston Red Sox take on their bitter archrivals, the New York Yankees. (1:30 p.m., WHDH in Boston, WPRI in Providence). At 2:00 p.m., New Haven's WNHC follows suit with the Montreal Expos taking on the New York Mets at Shea Stadium. Daytime baseball; does it get any better than that?

This isn't significant for anything other than my own personal amusement, but if you're looking for a movie that sounds like a mashup of two Humphrey Bogart movies (minus Bogie, alas), you'll find it on Wednesday with Treasure of the Petrified Forest (part one, 6:30 p.m., WSMW in Worcester). It's one of those Italian spaghetti adventure movies involving Medieval knights and warrior women. There's more substance to Book Beat (7:00 p.m, WEDN in Norwich), in which Bob Cromie's guest is Bennett Cerf, discussing The Sound of Laughter, a collection of his favorite jokes, stories, and puns.

I mentioned earlier that Make Room for Granddaddy was one of the shows on the chopping block, and Thursday's episode is, I think, an example of why: despite the fact that Danny, Marjorie Lord, Angela Cartwright, Sid Melton, and other members of the original cast have returned for the revival, we're introduced in this rerun to Roosevelt Grier, a new regular, who plays Danny's new accompanist Rosey Robbins. And while Rosey Grier was a passable actor and pleasant personality (not to mention a great football player), additions like this usually point to shows trying desperately to be relevant, and while Danny's trying to act casual, his wife works to put everyone at ease. So what are they so uptight about? Guesses, anyone?

On Friday, the aforementioned Anthony Quayle's Strange Report (10:00 p.m., NBC) focuses on the murder of a lonely hearts club director, and as we might expect, not everything here is what it seems. A trio of late-night movies round out the week, beginning with Audrey Hepburn's Oscar-nominated turn in The Nun's Story (11:25, WTIC), the story of a nun serving in the Congo; Barabbas (11:30 p.m., WPRI), with Anthony Quinn portraying the criminal who was released instead of Christ; and Jezebel (11:50 p.m., WHDH), with Bette Davis winning an Oscar for her performance as a "Dixie vixen," and Henry Fonda as one of her victims.

l  l  l

We haven't looked at a recipe for awhile, and this week we're supposed to be looking at "delicious desserts" to top off a hearty Italian meal. Now, I have never, in my life, heard of serving lasagna as a dessert, have you? Maybe that's what they do in Italy, but I've always known it as a main dish. Regardless, here's a great recipe:

Gotta admit, it sounds great no matter when you eat it. 

l  l  l

MST3K alert: Viking Women and the Sea Serpent (1954) Viking women who have set sail in search of their men are caught in a vortex, washed ashore and captured. Abbie Dalton, Susan Cabot. (Friday, 1:15 a.m., WTEV in New Bedford) In a week that offers an embarrassment of riches, or perhaps just embarrassments (It Conquered the World, War of the Colossa Beast and its sequal, The Amazing Colossal Man, and The Eye Creatures), we'll look at this Roger Corman-directed movie starring Abbie Dalton, before she moved on to better things as Joey Bishop's TV wife and one of the original Hollywood Squares. Enjoy!  TV

If you enjoy the content here and want to support my broader creative work, please consider making a donation at my Ko-fi page. Any amount you contribute helps me continue writing, researching, and sharing these articles and projects. Thank you!

This week in TV Guide: February 5, 1972

We begin this week with a personal memory, if you'll permit. I realize that for most people, NBC has been the network of the Olympics for many years, but if you're my age, you can remember when the Olympics meant ABC, Jim McKay, and "Up Close and Personal" coverage. The history of the Olympics on American TV only goes back to 1960, when CBS provided minimal coverage of both the Summer and Winter Olympics. ABC made its first appearance with the 1964 Winter Games, while NBC carried the Summer Games. My first experience with the Olympics was in 1968, and both of them were on ABC, so by 1972 I'd come to expect to find them there. 

However, this year's Winter Olympics, from Sapporo, Japan, are on NBC, and with the network planning extensive live coverage, the fourteen-hour time difference between Japan and New York has necessitated a most unusual broadcasting schedule. The network has divided its weekday lineup into three segments, starting with a 30-minute broadcast at 8:30 a.m. ET, preempting the last half-hour of Today. Primetime shows (which include live coverage of skiing and speed skating) are on Monday and Tuesday nights for an hour each, and a two-hour broadcast on Thursday.* Daily coverage concludes with 90-minute broadcasts at 11:30 p.m., preempting The Tonight Show. Things are somewhat more expansive on the weekend, with four-and-a-half hours on Saturday and three hours on Sunday.

*In case you're wondering what programs were so important that they couldn't be preempted on Wednesday or Friday, they were Columbo and Night Gallery (Wednesday) and Friday Night at the Movies on Friday. (Two Mules for Sister Sara, FYI.) Even in the middle of the Olympics, a network has to have its priorities in order.

In total, the network presents 36 hours of coverage across the 12 days of competition; by contrast, the NBC family of networks provided close to 3,000 hours of coverage of the 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing, across 19 days. For absolutists, I'm sure today's broadcasts provide a bonanza. I'm a meat-and-potatoes, just-the-facts kind of guy, though, and back when I watched the Olympics, I was only interested in seeing medal-winning performances, not all the preliminaries or various features; I think that the advent of saturation coverage was when I started to lose interest in the Olympics; I haven't watched them since, I'd guess, the 1990s, and I don't have any plans to take them up again any time soon. Maybe NBC could offer a "skinny package" of coverage on one of their streaming platforms, but even then I don't think I could be convinced to tune in to some of the newer "sports."

There's a closing irony about this though, as there is about almost everything. The theme to NBC's Olympic coverage, written by John Denver, Bill Danoff, and Taffy Nivert, was called "Victory Is Peace." It only took eight months, until the Summer Olympics in Munich, for that to come crashing down.

l  l  l

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. 

Of the many tough lessons learned in the process of being Cleveland Amory, TV critic, one stands out this week: "[B]eware of any show which is titled Somebody's Something. It's inclined not to be anybody's anything." Case in point is Rod Serling's Night Gallery. And if you don't see where he's going with this review, he continues: "Most episodes contain three separate stories, so if you don't like the first, you can always look forward to the next two. On the other hand, if you don't like either the first or the second, you can always look forward to the third. By the same token, if you don't like the first or the second or the third—well, look at it this way, it's over."

The problems with Night Gallery are legion: the stories are often either overwritten, or overacted, or overproduced—and, on occasion, all three. Most of the episodes are based on overworked gimmicks, and on the rare occasions when the show threatens to succeed, something gets in the way. Two episodes come to mind, both written by Serling: one in which a man from the future sents his deformed son to anothet planet in accordance with "The Federal Conformity Act of 1993." (The story Cleve's referring to "The Different Ones," according to IMDb.) "It could have been touching," Amory says, "but, being in this show, it wasn't." The other story he references is undoubtedly "Green Fingers," with Elsa Lanchester as a woman who refuses to sell her cottage to a developer. "Again, it had its points—aside from the fact that, like so many stories here, it didn't really have an end." It's important, Cleve says, that stories like this have an end; it's not good enough that they are ending.

What this show really strives for, Amory believes, is the sort of sensation one got from Alfred Hitchcock Presents, "And it really is infurating, 50 years after Hitchcock, to have something not anywhere near as good." It's particularly puzzling that "such drivel" manages to attract name stars. We know from Serling's own comments that he had major problems with Night Gallery, and became frustrated with elements such as the comic blackout sketches, which he felt distorted the entire program. Several of his scripts were rejected, and when NBC ruled out any Twilight Zone-type philosophical stories, Serling commented that "These people are taking what could have been a good series and they're so commercializing it it's not going to be commercial." For better or worse, Serling knew what he wanted Night Gallery to be, and I'm not at all sure he wouldn't have agreed with Cleveland Amory on the results."

l  l  l

Elizabeth Baur is, as Dick Adler relates in this week's cover story, the new face on Ironside, and I can remember, during one of my occasional forays into viewership, wondering what had happened to the blonde I'd seen before. Was it the same actress, with a new hair color? (Well, you can't always expect sophisticated analysis at that age.)

It's true that there had previously been a blonde, Emmy-winning Barbara Anderson, for the previous four seasons. But she'd left the show, rather surprisingly, to get married and try her luck with movies, and so Baur, who had previously been on the Western series Lancer, was selected from a large group of contenders. You'd be forgiven for thinking she hadn't made much of an impression at first, though; the first three episodes of the season had already been written for Anderson when Baur came on-board, so neither she nor the writers had much of an opportunity to establish her character. That has since changed, and she's flourishing as part of the ensemble cast. 

At the same time she'd tried out for Ironside, producer Cy Chermak told her that she wasn't really what they had in mind for the role, but that he wanted her to come back and read for him. After that second meeting, he again told her that she wasn't the type they were thinking of, but would she come back and do a screen test? She did, along with seven other actresses, and she was the unanimous choice. Not taking any chances, however, she also auditioned for a role in the daytime soap Bright Promise, which she got. The next day she was offered the role for Ironside, and sent Bright Promise her regrets. 

It's all interesting, and her impression of Raymond Burr ("he was very sweet and charming") pretty much lines up with everything else we read about him from people who've worked with him. What I find most interesting, though, is not the Ironside story, but her experience on Lancer. That series ran for two seasons, from 1968 to 1970, placing it in the midst of television's latest anti-violence period, and her comments on how the "silly business" of "violence points" on the show were handled are quite illuminating. "We had a limit of a certain number of points per show—like 10. You got maybe three points for a slap, four points for hitting somebody with a fist. It got to be pretty foolish. I mean, Westerns are supposed to have action in them, and when you take that away the shows getvery talky." And, she might have added, bland. So when you're watching television from this era and wonder why the bad guys never seem to get shot, just ask yourself how many points that might have been worth.

l  l  l

Would you care to take a guess at how many times, over the years, I've written disparagingly about the contemporary version of Hallmark Hall of Fame, comparing it unfavorably to its classic presentations? Anyone? Buehler? I'm not sure myself, but I'd have to guess it happens at least a half-dozen tims a year. And I don't believe any of you fine connoisseurs of television out there would disagree with me in those criticisms. Well, this week I get to take aim at a presentation from this more distinguished era. It's called "Love! Love! Love!" (Tuesday, 7:30 p.m., NBC), and it's part of Hallmark's advertising blitz for Valentine's Day. By the way, if you have any doubts about that point, take a look at the Hallmark ads appearing in this issue alone:

Three ads, three mentions of "Love," and a story called "Love! Love! Love!" Get it?

Anyway, this musical "tribute to young love" features Robert Wagner playing the emcee at The Troubadour in Los Angeles, where he introduces performances by Mac Davis, Helen Reddy, and Bread. As they sing, "a series of montages shows six young couples enjoying the pleasure of each other's company." It's not quite a musical, not quite a variety show, not quite a drama, and—as far as I'm concerned—not quite interesting enough for me. The idea itself is a creative departure for Hall of Fame, and I think it could have worked with a different selection of artists; as it is, the only one I can halfway listen to is Mac Davis. I know they were all big stars, but—and this is the kind of comment I might have reserved for Sullivan v. Palace—I don't know why. According to the Hall of Fame website, the next presentation will be Harvey, with Jimmy Stewart reprising his famous role, and that's more like it.

l  l  l

Once again, one of the highlights of the viewing week comes to us courtesy of the big screen, so let's start with the television premiere of Tennessee Williams' A Streetcar Named Desire (Thursday, 9:00 p.m., CBS), with Oscar-winning performances by Vivian Leigh, Kim Hunter, and Karl Malden; Marlon Brando's iconic, much-parodied role as Stanley Kowalski lost out to Humphrey Bogart in The African Queen, but, as Judith Crist says, his performance here is "nothing short of brilliant," as he "furthered the style that innumerable young actors were to ape and established his reputation for greatness." 

Be that as it may, I'm opting for Akira Kurasawa's masterpiece The Seven Samurai (Friday, 8:30 p.m., PBS), one of the greatest movies of all time (featuring a star-making turn from Toshiro Mifune), and the basis for the American Western The Magnificent Seven, a pretty good movie in its own right. When it was released for American theaters, it was edited from 200 minutes to 160, but PBS promises that it will be showing the original; though it has inspired many a Western in both America and Italy, it is, as Crist says, "a meaningful film, concerned with individuals rather than stock characters, and [Kurasawa's] artistry raises his work to classic stature."

Down a notch or two perhaps, but still eminently watchable, is the two-part showing of Ice Station Zebra (Sunday and Monday, 9:00 p.m. both nights, ABC), an action-adventure adaptation of Alistair MacLean's Cold War thriller, with an all-star cast including Rock Hudson, Ernest Borgnine, Patrick McGoohan, Jim Brown, and Lloyd Nolan. It received mixed reviews in its release, but as Crist says, "With Cdr. Rock Hudson in charge—who's to worry?" 

What else? Victor Borge presens a lesson in his famous phonetic punctuation on The Electric Company (Saturday, noon, WGBH in Boston). I must have been younger than this the first time I saw Borge do this, and it was as funny then as it is today. On American Bandstand (1:00 p.m., ABC), it's a "Salute to the Fifties" with Little Richard and Flash Cadillac and the Continental Kids. We still do these tributes today, but in 1972 the 1950s weren't that long ago.

Sunday is Glenn Ford night on CBS. First, it's a repeat of The Brotherhood of the Bell (7:30 p.m.), a darkly sinister story of a secret society with its members in all the right places of power; you may recall me writing about it here, in my "Descent into Hell" series. That's followed at 9:30 p.m. by Ford's underrated modern Western, Cade's County, in which Ford plays a tough Southwestern sheriff, the kind of role he plays best. Tonight's episode is part two of a drama in which Cade seeks to clear a man charged with murder.

On Monday, Bill Bixby and Brandon Cruz, stars of The Courtship of Eddie's Father, star in ABC's Monday Night Special, "Bill Bixby and Brandon Cruz at the Budapest Circus" (8:00 p.m.). Bill and Brandon not only introduce the acts, they perform with some of them! Hollywood Television Theatre presents a repeat of an adaptation of John Dos Passos's monumental trilogy "U.S.A." (8:00 p.m., PBS), telling the story of American life from pre-World War I to the Depression; Peter Bonerz, John Davidson, James Farentino, Joan Hackett, Shirley Knight, and Michele Lee play all the roles, while Edward G. Robinson reads the prologue.

It's easy to forget that the Sunday Mystery Movie used to be on Wednesday (when it was called, for no other reason, the Wednesday Mystery Movie), and that's why Columbo is bumping out the Winter Olympics tonight; the episode is Blueprint for Murder" (8:30 p.m., NBC), with Patrick O'Neal as the killer, and Peter Falk himself as the director. If you're not a Columbo fan, and I can't imagine why that would be the case, you're perhaps watching the week's second dose of Bill Bixby and Brandon Cruz, this time on their own show (8:00 p.m., ABC), with tonight's special guest, Sammy Davis Jr. 

In honor of Lincoln's Birthday on February 12, CBS presents a repeat of the David L. Wolper documentary They've Killed President Lincoln! (Thursday, 8:00 p.m.), an excellent "You Are There"-type look at the events leading up to the assassination. Civil War historian Bruce Catton supervised the production; Richard Basehart narrates. Meanwhile, over on PBS, NET Playhouse airs "Abraham Lincoln" (8:30 p.m.), D.W. Griffith's first talkie, with Walter Huston as Honest Abe and Una Merkel as his first love, Ann Rutledge. And that's not all; next week, PBS's NET Opera Theater carries the world premiere of Thomas Pasatieri's one-act opera "The Trial of Mary Lincoln," covering the firmer First Lady's insanity trial. There was no particular Lincoln commemoration in 1972, at least as far as I know; it's interesting that he's getting so much attention this year. 

Friday's highlights come from late-night, unless you're in the mood for some heavyweight boxing, with Floyd Patterson taking on Oscar Bonavena from Madison Square Garden in New York. (10:00 p.m., WSMW in Worcester). At 11:25 p.m., part one of the WTIC (Hartford) double feature is Alfred Hitchcock's shocker The Birds, with Rod Taylor and Tippi Hedren, and at 11:30, Dick Cavett's guests include Liza Minnelli, promoting her new movie, Cabaret (opening next week), Pete Seeger, Robert Klein, and Gale Sayers.

l  l  l

No MST3K movie this week, so we'll look at a recipe. "Cooking with wine adds something very special to a dish, making chicken superb, veal delicate and transforming beef stew into beef bourguignon." I'll take their word for it, but here's a nifty recipe for Chicken Marengo. Bon appetit!

TV