This week in TV Guide: July 7, 1962

Ernie Banks, the great Hall-of-Famer for the Chicago Cubs, was fond of saying, on a beautiful day, "Let's play two!" It's doubtful that he had the All-Star Game in mind when he said that, and yet here we are in 1962, getting ready this week for the first of two baseball All-Star Games, this one to be played Tuesday afternoon at 12:45 p.m. ET on NBC, with Mel Allen and Joe Garagiola providing the play-by-play from the brand-new District of Columbia Stadium in, where else, Washington, D.C. (The second game is scheduled for July 30 at Wrigley Field in Chicago.)

Now, you may be wondering why they're playing two All-Star Games this year, and it's a very good question. The birth of the second game came in 1959, to increase contributions to the players' pension fund, which had just started in 1947 and only paid modest amounts to retired players. However, even players who stood to gain from the increased fund were less than thrilled with the idea; future Hall of Famer Early Wynn spoke for many of them when he said that playing two games would make the game less important, less special. (Remember this argument, because you're going to see it come back in a couple of paragraphs.) League officials hated the idea of trying to fit two all-star breaks into what was already a long schedule, which had increased from 154 to 162 games per team the previous season.

But in the days when there was no interleague play, when most teams only televised a fraction of their games back to local fans, and when there were only a couple of nationally-televised games each week, the prospect of a second game, giving fans an additional chance to see the best players from both leagues, seemed like a good idea—at first. It didn't take long for problems to begin, though: in 1959, the second game was played in Los Angeles on a Monday, the day after every team in the league played a full slate of Sunday games (many of them doubleheaders). Players were exhausted by the time they arrived in Los Angeles, and attendance was "only" 55,000—pretty good until you realize the Coliseum, where the game was played, could hold over 90,000. In 1960, the games were played two days apart, one in Kansas City and the other in New York, where fewer than 40,000 fans attended in Yankee Stadium. The 1962 season would be the last in which two games were played; for 1963, the traditional single game would have to do.

But is baseball's All-Star Game—the "Midsummer Classic," as they call it—still special? Remember what Early Wynn said about diluting the importance of the game; well, today we have interleague play regularly; teams routinely televise all their games, either OTA, on cable, or streaming; and games are nationally televised on ESPN, TBS, Fox, and even Roku. The starters only play a few innings, and some of them have already jetted off before the game ends. The goal seems to be not to win, but to make sure everyone gets a chance to participate. For a few years, the league that won the game was rewarded with home-field advantage, but even that failed to really spice things up. One could be forgiven for thinking that the very concept of an all-star game of any kind, in any sport, is passe. Even when I watched baseball, and it's been about eight years since I've seen a game even on television, it had been years since I'd tuned in the All-Star Game, and I'm certainly not inclined to do it again.

But then, the game still sells out and draws a sizeable TV audience; nowhere near what it used to be, of course, but one could say that about everything on television save the NFL. It's one of those things where you can't turn back the clock; you just have to live with it—or not.

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The reason I spent so much time on the All-Star Game is that we're now officially in the dog days of summer, and most of what we've got on tap consists of reruns, summer replacements, and failed pilots. In fact, there's an entire section of TV Guide devoted just to reruns, in the same way there are sections for movies, sports, and specials—two whole pages, in fact. But, as I was mentioning to someone the other day, this is the way television used to be back in the pre-VCR, pre-DVD, pre-on-demand days: the summer rerun season was the time for viewers to catch up on the shows they might have missed when they were first shown, whether due to being out or watching someting else on at the same time. Doesn't matter now, of course, but it was very helpful back then to have a list of repeats you could check out. 

One show that isn't a rerun is The Lawrence Welk Show, and Saturday marks the Maestro's eighth year on television (9:00 p.m., ABC). Among the selections: "Say it with Music," the opening number from the opening show. Something you wouldn't have heard on that opening show is the biggest hit that Lawrence ever had: "Calcutta," which made it to Number One on the charts back in 1960. Here's Bobby and Barbara doing their famous dance routine.

On Sunday, it's the final—and one of the greatest—episodes of Maverick (6:30 p.m., ABC), "Three Queens Full," a wild parody of a certain hit show seen Sundays on "another network," that finds Bart (Jack Kelly) chaperoning three women coming from San Francisco to marry the "three idiot sons" of rancher Joe Wheelwright: Moose (Hoss), Henry (Adam), and Small Paul (Little Joe). Jim Backus is Lorne Greene—that is, Ben Cartwright—I mean, Joe Wheelwright; while the ladies in question are Merry Anders, Kasey Rogers, and Allyson Ames. A line at the end of the description notes that "Any resemblance to another TV series called "Bonanza" is purely intentional."

Speaking of reruns, The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour dips deep into the past with the 1957 episode "Lucy Takes a Cruise to Havana" (Monday, 9:00 p.m., CBS), in which Lucy tells columnist Hedda Hopper the story of how she and Ricky got together. Ann Sothern and Cesar Romero guest star, and Rudy Vallee plays himself. Of course, this episode originally aired a couple of years before Castro's takeover, and our rerun comes just three months before the Cuban Missile Crisis; timing, as they say, is everything. I wonder how many examples there are of shows like this—non-period pieces—in which a country was free when the episode originally aired, and Communist when it was reshown later. I'm sure there must be several, especially in the case of Cuba, but with tensions in the region about to get even higher, I wonder how viewers appreciated a comedy about Cuba?

A star-studded repeat on The Dick Powell Show lightens up Tuesday night (9:00 p.m., ABC); Powell and his wife, June Allyson lead the way in "The Time to Die," the story of a crime boss on the verge of death, who's given a second chance at life—but only if he can find someone, from a specially drawn-up list, to die in his place. The script is by Aaron Spelling, and it bears all the trademarks of Spelling's later series Burke's Law (produced by Powell's Four Star Productions), with appearances by Tuesday Weld, Andy Williams, John Saxon, Ernest Truex, Edgar Bergen, and Ricky and Pamela Powell, who just happen to be Powell and Allyson's son and daughter. That's followed by the anthology Alcoa Premiere (10:00 p.m., ABC), in which host Fred Astaire stars with Maureen O'Sullivan and Harry Townes in "Moment of Decision," with Astaire as an escape artist with a very disagreeable neighbor.

The aforementioned Tuesday Weld also stars in a very good Naked City rerun on Wednesday (10:00 p.m, ABC). She and Rip Torn play a thrill-seeking hillbilly couple who embark on a crime spree, beginning by shooting detective Arcaro (Harry Bellaver). We'll complete our Tuesday trifecta a bit later, with a profile of the young star and her growing career: is she turning into a real actress? Stay tuned.

Syndicated repeats of Peter Gunn begin Thursday on Boston's WHDH with "The Candidate" (7:30 p.m.), in which Gunn is hired to find out who's trying to assassinate gubernatorial candidate Adrian Grimmett, running on a no-taxes platform. I suppose we could start with accountants, tax preparers, and IRS agents to begin with; think about how many of them would be out of work! Later, on Dick Powell's Zane Grey Theater (9:30 p.m., CBS), Edward G. Robinson makes a rare television appearance, along with his son, Edward G. Robinson Jr., in the story of a family divided by the Civil War. And the Tiffany Network's morning show Calendar presents a special primetime episode (10:00 p.m.), as hosts Harry Reasoner and Mary Fickett (above) look at the daytime life of the American homemaker, with guests Vivian Vance, Bob Keeshan, and Bob and Ray.

On Friday, Jimmy Dean wraps up a week as guest host of The Tonight Show during the interim period between Jack Paar's departure on March 30 and the arrival of Johnny Carson on October 1 (11:15 p.m., NBC). The list of hosts who filled in until Carson's arrival is pretty interesting, filled with names you'd expect (Joey Bishop, Merv Griffin, Jerry Lewis) and those who might be more surprising (Jack Carter, Peter Lind Hayes and Mary Healy, Mort Sahl). Groucho Marx did a week, as did comedian Jack E. Leonard, while Merv and Art Linkletter each did four weeks, and Hugh Downs (Jack's sidekick) hosted for three weeks. Last week Jerry was up, and next week it's Arlene Francis's turn, making her the first female host of Tonight. 

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The third annual TV Guide Awards were broadcast on June 24 on NBC, wth host Dave Garroway presenting a passel of presents to deserving programs and performers, including Bob Hope, who won an award for performing for the first time in his 40 years in the business, for "Best Single Musical or Variety Program." Hope, never at a loss for words, said of the award, "I got to rush this over to my stock broker." Favorite Male and Female Performers went to Vince Edwards and Carol Burnett, Favorite Series was taken by Bonanza, and Favorite New Series went to Ben Casey. The broadcast got generally positive reviews, and for those who left empty-handed, Garroway had these words of encouragement: "Virtue is its own reward."

On the Teletype, ABC's new Saturday night series, McHale's Men, is taking shape, and it's noted that there was uncertainty as to whether the show would be "heavy drama or comedy." This uncertainty dates back to the origin of the series as an episode of Alcoa Premiere entitled "Seven Against the Sea." The story, taking place in the Pacific theater during World War II, starred Ernest Borgnine as Lieutenant Commander Quinton McHale, captain of the torpedo boat PT-73. He and his men were stranded at Taratupa base, which had been substantially destroyed by a Japanese attack. Left on their own, as Japanese patrols prevented any rescue attempt, McHale and his men had drifted into a comfortable, laissez-faire lifestyle with the island's natives. Despite these similarities, though, "Seven Against the Sea" was a drama with comedic overtones, and symbolized by a conflict between McHale and his executive officer, Lieutenant Durham, a by-the-book Annapolis man. 

When the movie was spun off into a series of its own, it was, therefore, understandable that the show could go either way, as a comedy or a drama. Borgnine would later remember that the original intent had been to use the show as a vehicle for Ron Foster, who played Durham; when that didn't work out, Borgnine became the lead, and the tone of the show was shifted to comedy. If there was any doubt, the Teletype announces that the first two supporting roles have been cast: comedian Tim Conway, and comic magician Carl Ballantine. And the series itself would come to be titled McHale's Navy. 

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Gil Seldes, TV Guide's critic, takes a look this week at Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color, which, as he says, is really "the wonderful world of Walt Disney," notwithstanding the efforts of RCA and Eastman Kodak in pointing out to us all the wonderful benefits of the world being seen in color.

Seldes's relationship with Disney goes way back; "I was," he points out, "born early enough to have seen 'Steamboat Willie,'" the first appearance of Mickey Mouse. He's been a Mickey and Donald fan ever since, and despite Disney's efforts in live-action presentations, they remain the core of the Disney appeal. On the other hand, "I think Disney's early efforts to 'humanize' animals were (and still are) a mistake." He cites an often-fascinating film on the peregrine hawk as an example of Disney at both his best and his worst; the part of the film in which we're shown how the hawk is trained "can entrance the person who doesn't know but is excited by the unknown." He then plunges us into "a wallow of pity for pigeons that get killed and boys who are crippled, and—I think this is what makes me sore—at the end I'm on his side." Let them live their lives and let us live our lives." Everyone knows what it's like to laugh at a joke and, a moment later, feel it was "pretty sour." "I like Disney," he concludes, "even when I don't like him much." 

Lest you get the wrong impression, though, he adds this: "Walt Disney is one of the very few people who has added to the enjoyment of life of virtually everyone now alive. The only single human being I know who has done more in the entertainment profession is Charles Chaplin." He doesn't know if Disney would take that as a compliment or not; I think he would. But, in it's most literal sense, "the world of Walt Disney is a part of the world we cannot live without."

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And now for that profile of Tuesday Weld that I've been promising. I've never lived in a world in which Tuesday Weld wasn't already well-known as being, if not a great actress, a star. She was once married to Pinchas Zuckerman, and if you're an aficionado of classical music, you'll know that pretty much qualifies you as being cool.* But in 1962 Tuesday Weld is in the process of transforming from a starlet to a name; it is, I think, that point in one's career where things could go either way. For Tuesday, it went in a good way, even though you can look at her career and think it could have amounted to more.

*She was also married to Dudley Moore, making her coolness quotient even higher.

Three years ago, when she was a mere 15-year-old, Danny Kaye described her as "15, going on 27." She once showed up for a TV interview "barefoot, hair unkempt, cigaret lodged in the corner of her mouth, and wearing what appeared to be a nightgown." (Nowadays, someone probably would have told her that she didn't have to dress up, and would have meant that as a compliment.) She'd been called "the Baby Beatnik," "the new Kim Novak," "the sexiest teenager since Liz Taylor," and "a disgrace to Hollywood." For her own part, she remarked that "If teen-agers are gullible enough to use me as a model, that's their problem." During a recent return to the show in which she was once a regular, Dobie Gillis (Warren Beatty was another alumnus of the show), Max Shulman said, "This was an elegant Tuesday we'd never seen before—a real professional, hair up, wearing a smart business suit. And she knew her lines! In the old days she never used to know line one."  She's turned in strong performances in recent shows: The Dick Powell Show and Naked City (both of which we read about earlier), Adventures in Paradise, and the pilot for Bus Stop, which some speculate could be the turning point in her career.

"I've had no turning point," she tells our unidentified interviewer. "All of life is a turning point. But I do feel more confident now." She sees herself as, variously, a mature actress, a child-woman, a spoiled little girl, and, "sometimes—I see nothing at all." She was born Susan Ker Weld (her parents had expected a boy and didn't have any girl names ready), but had always been called Tuesday because, her mother says, "she looked like a Tuesday." (Besides, Tuesday adds, "Thursday is a boy's name." From the Norse god Thor, you know.) A couple of years ago, she had her name legally changed, and so Tuesday it is. 

She remains a polarizing figure; one director said that working with her was like trying to get an elephant to move, while others doubt her ability to transform from a star to a true actress. On the other hand, many of her co-stars have nothing but good things to say about her, and director Ted Post says, "There's always been a deep, serious vein in this girl—it's coming out now." Those in the know say her steady relationship with actor Gary Lockwood has been a "steadying influence." And Rod Amateau, the producer-director of Dobie Gillis, says, "Nothing is going to stop this girl short of a cataclysm—and I mean nothing."

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Finally, there's no MST3K this week, but it's not for lack of trying. For example, on Saturday night's late movie on WJAR in Providence, we've got 1959's Cosmic Monsters, starring Forrest Tucker and Gaby Andre: "The world is threatened with destruction when a mad scientist sets loose huge insects." On Tuesday, it's WMTW in Poland Spring and Prehistoric Women, from 1950, with Laurette Luez, Alan Mixon, and Mara Lynn: "A group of cave women go in search of husbands. On the way, they encounter dinosaurs and other monsters." And on Friday, there's The Ghost of Frankenstein on WNAC in Boston, with Lon Chaney Jr., Sir Cedric Hardwicke, and Ralph Bellamy: "A man plans to replace the criminal brain in a mobster's head with the brain of an educated man." What, I ask you, could possibly go wrong?  TV  

This week in TV Guide: May 20, 1961

This week begins with a rare full-page editorial on the front page of the programming section, covering the recent speech by FCC chairman Newton Minow to the broadcasters' convention. This is, I believe, the "vast wasteland" speech that's become famous over the years, although that phrase doesn't appear anywhere in the editorial. 

The editorial take on Minow's speech is quite positive, with a mixture of hope thrown in; hope that as a result of the speech programming will improve, with less violence, fewer "formula comedies about totally unbelievable families," fewer commercials with "screaming, cajoling and offending," less boredom. "We need imagination in programming, not sterility; creativity, not imitation; experimetation, not conformity; excellence, not mediocrity." I know, I know—this sounds less like hope and more like a recitation of pipe dreams. But there was reason to be hopeful from Minow's declarations, such as his promise that "renewal of station licenses in the future will depend largely upon whether a station maintains programming balance." "Stations which offer no local public service shows, or which substitute old movies for network public service shows, will be in trouble." Look at local programming today, which consists largely of a continuous cycle of sitcom reruns, infomercials, and endless news that isn't really news; Minow was right.

He goes on to talk about public ownership of the airwaves; "For every hour that the people give you—you owe them something. I entend to see that your debt is paid with service." The editors urge Minow to move quickly on implementing these practices; "There has been enough procrastination." He then excoriated the industry for its overreliance on ratings ("If parents, teachers and ministers conducted their responsibilities by following the ratings, children would have a steady diet of ice cream, school holidays and no Sunday school.")

The editors approve heartily of Minow's call for more choice in programming, and hope that this extends to ABC getting affiliates in more well-populated areas to compete with CBS and NBC—"with the assumption that ABC's programming. . . will achieve at least basic balance." And they urge him to visit Hollywood "and make it clear to producers there that diversity of programming cannot be achieved without their co-operation. Indeed, isn't it time for Hollywood to abandon its defensive attitude—'We just manufacture to New York's specifications'—and assume more leadership?"

I doubt that anyone looking at the state of television over the last 60 years would say that Minow's (and the editors') hopes have been fulfilled. Despite talk of television's new golden age of prestige programming, I think the medium has, for the most part, failed to fulfill its initial promise. But, hey—a fella can dream, can't he?

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One of the most interesting Teletypes we've seen in quite a while begins with this note that a previous movie commitment will probably prevent Marilyn Monroe from doing an NBC adaptation of Somerset Maugham's play "Rain," costarring Frederic March, directed by Oscar winner George Roy Hill and adapted by Rod Serling.

Now, a little online research suggests there might have been a little bit more to it than that; everything from conflicts between Hill and Monroe's acting coach Lee Strasberg to Monroe's supposed mental unstability have been cited as complications that eventually scuttled the production. The thought continues to intrigue, though; Keith Badman, author of The Final Years of Marilyn Monroe: The Shocking True Story suggested that "Rain" "would have shown Monroe’s capabilities as a serious actress."

The real reason this bit attracted my interest, however, is that we've become so accustomed to thinking of Marilyn Monroe in the past tense—a legend, someone who lived and died tragically—that it's sometimes jarring to read an article in which Monroe appears in the present tense, alive and well, with a television project in the works. I don't know, perhaps that just makes me old. I was alive when Monroe lived, and when she died, although her name meant nothing to me at the time. But think about it: if you read an article discussing a very famous someone, very much alive at the time, whom you knew only as one who had lived and died long before your own lifetime, wouldn't that attract your attention as well?

On a somewhat cheerier note, there's also ABC's plan for a future Wide World of Sports episode featuring "an experimental baseball game" incorporating many of the suggestions made over the years by baseball maverick Bill Veeck. Veeck was one of baseball's great characters, former owner of the Cleveland Indians and St. Louis Browns, and, at the time of this issue, the present owner of the Chicago White Sox, a team which he will once again own in the 1970s. In his autobiography Veeck—As in Wreck, he had written of how baseball was being bogged down by its slow pace: "There would be nothing wrong with the now standard three-hour game if we were presenting two-and-a-half hours of action. We aren't."*

*He wrote this in 1962.  You could write the same thing, word for word, today.

Veeck planned to let fans vote on team's next move.

Among the ideas Veeck has proposed: widening the plate by 25%, thus making the strike zone larger; changing the definition of a walk from four balls to three, and a strikeout from three strikes to two; reducing the time between pitches and between innings; and making the intentional walk automatic, i.e. rather than throwing four pitches wide of the plate, just tell the batter to take his base.*

*Veeck also advocated interleague play.  Oh well, we can't always be right.

In his book, Veeck mentions his plans for the Wide World telecast, which would have been an exhibition game between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the White Sox. "It was only because of my physical condition," he writes, "that the game wasn't played. Better not to do it at all, I decided, than to go ahead and do a lousy job." Too bad; I would have enjoyed seeing how it came out.

You want more from the Teletype? Okay" here's a note on "the new CBS comedy series" Double Trouble, with Dick Van Dyke and Morey Amsterdam already signed up, and adding Rose Marie to the cast. The series they're talking about, of course, is The Dick Van Dyke Show. I wonder when Mary Tyler Moore comes on the scene? Ah, but I know someone out there has the answer.

Another item: "Who Killed Julie Greer?", the opening episode of Dick Powell's new anthology series, is being filmed. That episode, starring Powell and featuring appearances by Ronald Reagan, Mickey Rooney, Ralph Bellamy and others, will serve as a pilot for one of my favorite shows of the '60s: Burke's Law. Powell, of course, also played private detective Richard Diamond on the radio; when the show came to television, the lead was taken over by David Janssen, who had, at his answering service, a sultry contact named Sam. The actress playing Sam? Come on, you know the answer.

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The week's sports highlight comes on Saturday, as Kentucky Derby winner Carry Back addes to his collection with victory in the second jewel of the Triple Crown, the Preakness Stakes (3:30 p.m. CT, cbs). The horse will be a heavy favorite to take that Crown, but he'll falter in the Belmont in three weeks' time (possibly due to an injury) and finishes a distant seventh.

On Sunday, Ed Sullivan takes his show to Las Vegas (7:00 p.m., CBS), where his show comes from the Stardust, and his guests are a mixture of headliners and Vegas lounge acts: Jerry Lewis, Phil Harris, the Kim Sisters, singer Sandy Stewart, Freddy Bell and the Bellboys, comic magician Mac Ronay, juggler Rudy Cardenas, and aerilists Michele and Michael, who perform while suspended from a helicopter. Later, on ABC's documentary series Winston Churchill: The Valiant Years (9:30 p.m., ABC), we come to Yalta, 1945: the fateful meeting between Churchill, Stalin, and the dying FDR in which they plan for the future of Europe and the structure of the United Nations. 

We were talking about Dick Powell a few paragraphs ago, and on Monday, Mrs. Dick Powell, also known as June Allyson, presents a story with a twist on her eponomyous dramatic anthology series (9:30 p.m., CBS). It seems that Howard Moon (Lew Ayres), a conviced thief, is being released from prison, with the best of intentions of living on the straight and narrow. Of course, we always know how vows like that turn out. But the surprise here? It's his wife who wants him to return to his thieving ways.

Sometimes the handwriting is on the wall, and you can certainly see in in Tuesday's NBC White Paper on "Railroads: End of the Line?" (9:00 p.m.) Host Chet Huntley takes a look at the plight of the nation's railroad system, including the decline in passenger travel (due to both the increasing popularity of air travel and the interstate road system) which eventually results in the formation of Amtrak. I can remember back in 1963 when my family took Great Northern's Empire Builder from the Twin Cities to Montana; it was a great way to see the country, and while I'm no fan of government bailouts, it is a shame that passenger service has become such a thing of the past. I know; I could take Amtrak even today, but I'd be about as likely to do that as I would be to fly, which I haven't done since 2019 and have no plans to restart. (And why should I? We're retired; we can take as long as we want to drive somewhere!)

I don't often find myself perusing the daytime listings to see what's on KTCA, the educational station in the Twin Cities, but I'm making a grim exception on Wednesday for Survival Preparedness (12:30 p.m.), which, from the looks of it, may well be a regular program. Today's topic: "Distribution of Fallout." Nuclear fallout, that is. Well, I did warn you that it was a grim program. For something much happier, Perry Como has taken his Kraft Music Hall on the road again, and tonight, cast and crew find themselves in Chicago at McCormick Place Auditorium, where Perry welcomes guests Martha Raye, George Gobel, Paul Lynde, and Johnny Puleo. (8:00 p.m., NBC) 

Thursday's highlight is a rerun of The Ford Show (8:30 p.m., NBC) featuring the 1959 broadcast of Gilbert and Sullivan's operetta The Mikado, with host Tennessee Ernie Ford playing both the title character and Ko-Ko. "Obviously, we'd never done anything like this before," Ernie would later say. "It was an experiment we all knew could blow up in our faces. . . we were fooling with our own success [the show was the highest-rated half-hour variety show on the air at the time] and we knew we could hurt ourselves." Ford even went to the trouble of covering every dollar over The Ford Show's usual expenses. Still, there was apprehension—until the show started. Ford and his supporting singers, The Top 20, were more than up to the task (Ford himself had sung the role in music school), and the success would lead the show to attempt another Gilbert and Sullivan operetta the following year, H.M.S. Pinafore, with similar success.

I'm going to return to the field of sports for Friday's highlight, which comes to us from Washington, D.C., where the Minnesota Twins, who moved from Washington to Minnesota to start this season, take on the team that replaced them, the expansion Washington Senators. (6:00 p.m., WTCN) The Twins, when they played in Washington, were also known as the Senators, which would make this confusing enough. But while the Senators' new stadium (D.C. Stadium, later renamed after Robert F. Kennedy) is being constructed, they're playing their home games in old Griffith Stadium, named after Clark Griffith, former owner of the original Senators, now the Twins, who are owned by Griffith's nephew, Calvin. So in other words, the team that used to be called the Washington Senators is playing the team now called the Washington Senators, in a stadium named after the uncle of the man who now owns the team called the Minnesota Twins, but used to be the Washington Senators. Got all that?

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And now on to everybody's favorite summer replacement host, Andy Williams. Now, we all know The Andy Williams Show as one of television's favorite variety shows, hosted by one of America's most loved entertainers, but that's all in the future. At the moment, Andy's still "waiting for a regular show," despite considerable success over the last two summers filling in, first, for Pat Boone, and then the next year for Garry Moore. Combined with his regular appearances as a guest on other variety shows and his frequent specials (including this Sunday, when he hosts The Chevy Show with guests Gogi Grant, Jonathan Winters, and future wife Claudine Longet), and  he's primed for the big time. Says the author of this unbylined profile, "the fact that he was still performing in a night club and not singing regularly in television was still one of the medium's mysteries."

What's the story? Well, at the outset, Andy declined the projects that were being pitched to him, shows that would have been scheduled against ratings giants such as Gunsmoke. "I had enough offers," he says. "Why not wait?" Maybe it's not a sure thing that Williams will be a smash when the right offer does come along, but it's a pretty good bet; Steve Allen says, "I know of no one with higher standards or better musical taste," while Bing Crosby calls him "a fine singer whose scope is limitless. . . and an appealing person with a great deal of integrity." Jack Benny, of course, is a little more cautious: he doesn't think Williams is "the greatest thing since Seven-Up," but adds that he's maybe the next best.

In any event, when Andy does make the move the next year, he's pretty much the hit that everyone expects. Bing Crosby's words are true, and remain so for as long as Andy Williams is on TV.

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Gilbert Seldes

An interesting review of Bob Hope's latest TV appearances by Gilbert Seldes, himself an interesting man.  Seldes was one of the large figures in cultural criticism. As I've mentioned in the past, Gil Seldes wrote one of the influential books of the earlier part of the century, The Seven Lively Arts. As editor of The Dial magazine, he published one of the greatest poems of the Twentieth Century, T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land. He was one of the early advocates of  television as a cultural institution in its own right, worthy of review and criticism, and eventually made it to TV, where, as Director of Television Programming for CBS, one of his progeny was the all-time dramatic anthology Studio One.

But just as we weren't here to talk about Walter Brennan, we're not here to talk about Gil Seldes; rather, it's Bob Hope who's our subject. Seldes likes Hope, "a good comic actor who has been turned into a comedian, which is a different thing altogether."  And this, for Seldes, is the problem with Hope on television: that Hope is capable of more than he's showing. "The shows in which he appears have no special atmosphere or quality; except that Hope is in them, they are like a sampler of half a dozen other variety shows."

I've read this kind of criticism of Hope before. His early humor, particularly in his radio days, was sharp, edgy and occasionally suggestive—even, to some, blue. On television, however, he's fallen into a rut, "the old reliable who is always doing the same old things." Seldes doesn't use the word lazy, but others have. At some point Hope saw the laughs he could get with a golf club, a few wisecracks, and some attractive actresses standing on either side of him, and after that he stopped trying to do anything new. And while it makes for a successful career, it doesn't necessarily mean fulfilling what you're capable of.

There are always moments, as Seldes says; "A reference to the 1920's when Al Capone was playing The Untouchables live, or the mad idea tha tthe Moscow edition of TV Guide lists President Kennedy's appearance as The Millionaire—these have the sudden shock value of quick wit." Seldes says the best thing Hope's done this year was his Project 20 Will Rogers documentary voiceover, because it was something different, which he did "with confidence and modesty and skill. It reminded you that he really has talent, even if no one (and that includes himself) bothers to use it." Seldes, who confesses to a soft spot for Hope, concludes that Hope "has the talent. It needs only to be shown."

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One more to round out the week, and that's Walt Disney's plan to take his long-running show from ABC to NBC. At one time the struggling network, which helped finance Disneyland, was just grateful to have him on their lineup. He provided not only credibility, but ratings. But now, he complains, "I no longer had the freedom of action I enjoyed in those first three years." The network, pleased with the success of his Davy Crockett series, "kept insisting that I do more and more Westerns." One of the stories they rejected, he complains, was The Shaggy Dog. In the light of ABC's turndown, he made a theater movie out of it "and it grossed $9,000,000." In case you're wondering, that was a lot of money back then.

When ABC axed Disney's Mickey Mouse Club, it was the last straw. He's been approached by NBC to come on over when his ABC contract expires later this year, and he has jumped at the chance. Says a friend, "I never saw such an overnight change in a man." The freedom from ABC, not to mention the prospect of working in color, has so energized him that he's started working on programs "that can't possibly be shown until 1963." One idea after another keeps coming from him, making him positively giddy. "Oh boy! Color—and no Westerns. I can do whatever I want. Do you hear me? I can do whatever I want." TV  

The wonderful world of Disney on TV

Today I'm pleased to welcome back Bill Griffiths. Last September, Bill penned a guest essay on his childhood memories of KTVU in Northern California, and now he's back with a look at the history of Disney on TV. As a former cast member at Walt Disney World for fifteen years (!), you can understand that this is a topic near and dear to him; I think this look back will bring back some fond memories for you as well, as it does me! 

by Bill Griffiths

Disney a cartoon tonight?”

This was the question my younger sister would ask each week. Having already read through the current TV Guide, I’d have a ready answer. While we both enjoyed the cartoon episodes best, we would still be guaranteed a fine hour (or two) of entertainment if it was one of the many animal-related stories, a gimmicky comedy (sometimes involving animals) an international and/or period-piece drama, a documentary or a theme park special. Such was The Wonderful World of Disney. It was the beginning of a great interest in the works of Walt Disney and his studio that continue to this day. That would lead by happy circumstance to becoming a Walt Disney World cast member, a role I was privileged to have for 15 years. Being part of the WDW team would also in an indirect way introduce me to my future wife. We would ultimately be married on Disney property although not in any of the parks—too expensive. Even though we no longer work for the Mouse, I still follow company developments.

Not too many years ago, we were visiting some relatives. While their kids were watching a Disney program, I casually remarked how I remembered when Disney was only on television once a week. Suddenly they turned around and one asked, "What? Only once a week?" Indeed it was true. Actually, I could very well be from that last generation that clearly recalls Disney coming on solely Sunday, and later Saturday nights. Now, there was the occasional special showing of an episode or a movie on another evening, and for a period during 1977-78 there was also The New Mickey Mouse Club in syndication (shown locally on KTVU Channel 2… and if you haven’t read my earlier salute to that station, go check it out. Sorry, there is no mention of that version of the Club that was made for you and me). The anthology series aired uninterrupted for an amazing 29 years and has been brought back for extended periods right through to the present day. It has been aired under eight different titles:

• Disneyland (ABC 1954-58) 
• Walt Disney Presents (ABC 1958-61) 
• Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color (NBC 1961-69) 
• The Wonderful World of Disney (NBC 1969-79) 
• Disney’s Wonderful World (NBC 1979-81) 
• Walt Disney (CBS 1981-83) 
• The Disney Sunday Movie (ABC 1986-88) 
• The Magical World of Disney (NBC 1988-90)

ABC revived The Wonderful World of Disney as a weekly series from 1997 until 2006, with occasional showings through 2008. Since 2015, it has again been seen on an irregular basis, "temporarily" returning as a weekly offering due to the writers and actors strikes in 2023. In my humble opinion, Walt Disney was a genius. He had a pretty good instinct for what the public wanted, and his track record is proof of that. He was the first major film producer to see television as an asset—something he could use not only to promote his product, but also generate original material. Once Walt fully entered television with the premiere of the Disneyland series on ABC October 27, 1954, he put more money into the TV productions than what he got out of it, although ultimately the show was quite profitable. For example, the majority of episodes were filmed in color even though ABC could only broadcast in black-and-white. Live-action stories such as the phenomenally successful "Davy Crockett" hours benefited from location shooting in addition to also being in color. 

Then, there were the segments highlighting Disney’s classic cartoon characters. Specially commissioned animation—again, mostly in color—succinctly tied together the cartoon shorts where it was often difficult to tell what was new and what was older. Some of those animated showcases even had moments of host Walt Disney or other live action performers interacting with the characters, especially in those episodes devoted to Donald Duck. Additionally, at a time when most of the major studios refused to release their films to television, Walt was presenting relatively recent features on his program, albeit edited and sometimes divided over two weeks. These included now-classic movies such as Treasure Island and Alice in Wonderland. All of these efforts would pay off over the years the anthology aired on network television and later in airings on The Disney Channel, syndicated reruns, and VHS and DVD releases.

I should note a point of criticism to some when it came to episodes devoted in whole or in part to upcoming theatrical movies or Disneyland and Walt Disney World. But again the information presented, and the production and entertainment values were so high that it could be easy to forget they were essentially extended commercials! In fact, those theme park episodes can now be viewed as a time capsule, capturing on film or videotape sights and sounds that have passed into history. This “promoting” of the parks even extended into the credit sequences which for most years opened with fireworks above Disneyland’s Sleeping Beauty Castle and later Cinderella’s Castle at the Magic Kingdom Park with Tinker Bell flying around followed by quick scenes encompassing the many facets of Disney. It certainly served its purpose to get viewers excited for the evening’s offering.

My initial exposure to The Wonderful World of Disney was in the mid 1970s into the early 1980s. It was one of four programs that in our household was appointment viewing on the weekends—other programs included Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, The Muppet Show, and The Lawrence Welk Show. What I didn’t realize at the time was that the Disney organization as a whole (with the exception of the theme parks) was experiencing challenges due to the changing nature of the entertainment industry and the company’s reluctance to tamper with the successful formula established with Walt, who had died in 1966. While I certainly didn’t realize it, an increasing amount of episodes consisted of airings of live-action theatrical features (often shown in two parts, sometimes seen in one night) and reruns from earlier seasons. Original live action made for television productions declined to a mere handful per year. 

But in carrying on the standard for quality set by Walt, these episodes shared the same production personnel and even actors that appeared in Disney theatrical films. Still, what had worked well for 25 years gave way to a feeling of complacency by 1979. This also reflected in the Nielsen ratings. Whereas The Wonderful World of Disney was routinely ranked in the top ten or top twenty through 1975, the series had fallen to 55th place by the end of the decade. Of course it didn’t help that NBC was mired in third place.

The same year NBC proclaimed it was "Proud as a Peacock," the Disney anthology made a few changes of its own, shortening the title to Disney’s Wonderful World and, for the first time since The Sherman Brothers memorable Wonderful World of Color title tune of the 1960’s ("The world is a carousel of color/ Wonderful, wonderful color!"), the opening montage of clips was accompanied by a new song announcing "It’s the friendly old place/A happy new face!"  I remember when this happened and while the theme didn’t really catch on, I liked it even if not all the words made complete sense. The actual opening and closing music was fun and contemporary, which was certainly the goal. The composers of the theme song were John Debney and John Klawitter. If Debney’s name sounds familiar, he is one of the most prolific film and television composers having been nominated and won numerous awards in his career. This was his first major musical contribution. Needless to say after one year, the theme went back to the familiar medley of Disney songs that with variations to the arrangements and tempo had opened each episode since 1969…in this case, the version first used during the 1978-79 season.

In a callback to the 1954-61 episodes coming from Adventureland, Fantasyland, Frontierland or Tomorrowland, each week would now be themed Adventure Night, Comedy Night or Fantasy Night. Additionally, a new but familiar voice would be heard: Gary Owens, replacing Dick Tufeld, who had replaced original announcer Dick Wesson. Fun fact: all three men were heard as TV announcers in the 1971 comedy The Barefoot Executive. This movie is a must-see for classic TV fans, not only to spot the many familiar faces including Kurt Russell (Disney films of this era were always well-cast) but also prove that a chimpanzee can program a network just as good if not better than any human!

The cosmetic changes didn’t help much. Then came 1981. One day that spring seemingly at random, I was told the Disney series was going to soon be on CBS Saturday nights. The move actually brought a little improvement to the anthology format with an increased emphasis on new episodes and even attempts at separate shows such as Small and Frye, a comic take on the 1950's Zorro series called Zorro and Son, and even two programs based on Disney films: Herbie the Love Bug (The Love Bug movies), and Gun Shy (The Apple Dumpling Gang). None of them lasted longer than a handful of episodes. Much more successful was the network television premiere of one of Walt Disney’s biggest hits—Mary Poppins. Taking over an entire evening’s schedule November 22, 1981, it was one of the first programs recorded on our new VCR. Despite these changes, CBS would end Walt Disney as a weekly series at the end of September 1983. While ratings were a factor, the decision was apparently at the request of Disney management. While ultimately Disney’s presence on television would eventually flourish 24/7, it was the launch of cable’s The Disney Channel in April 1983 that would in the short-term come at the expense of the studio’s broadcast presence. It was with considerable anticipation that we were finally able to access The Disney Channel with the installation of a huge satellite dish in 1984. 

Around that time the channel began scheduling regular airings of The Wonderful World of Disney with most episodes taken from the period with Walt hosting. In earlier network showings, reruns from the 1950’s and 60’s often deleted his introductions. Now they were reinstated, with some being shown in color for the first time. Through these presentations, I came to appreciate Walt. He had a causal, welcoming on-camera presence even providing information to give the viewer a feeling that what they were about to see was indeed special. It was an element that could not be replicated even with later guest hosts that would appear from time to time post-Walt. One exception would be the animated Ludwig Von Drake (voiced by Paul Frees who was known to improvise some of the dialogue), a self-professed expert on everything who headlined some of the funniest hours Disney produced.

Although the anthology format was revived in 1986, I did not watch on a regular basis, having moved on to other programs. Then-Disney CEO Michael Eisner stepped in as the new host. While he largely did a capable job introducing the movies, he never quite captured the warmth and attention to detail of Walt. I do admit Eisner did a good job bringing Disney back onto network television in a big way, especially with hit individual shows through the Touchstone Television division such as The Golden Girls, Empty Nest, Home Improvement, and more. As Walt Disney Productions became The Walt Disney Company, Eisner and his team headed up an expansion far beyond what Walt could have ever imagined. A lot was positive. Other decisions—not so much. Ultimatel, such factors led to Eisner’s departure after 21 years (1984 to 2005) and the ascension of Bob Iger. Wisely, he recognized his on-camera limitations and has not hosted any subsequent versions of the anthology.

2024 will mark 70 years since the debut of Walt Disney's weekly foray into television. Wouldn’t it be WONDERFUL if those anthology episodes made specifically for television appeared complete on Disney Plus? For now, subscribers have to settle for a handful of shows available on the service which are generally accompanied by an unnecessary advisory that the presentation "may contain outdated cultural depictions."  This of course is in keeping with current management's goal of pushing divisive social and political issues that have turned away Disney fans who simply don’t want to be bombarded with messaging that comes off as insulting and disrespectful. Supposedly Iger’s return from temporary retirement was in part to temper this justified criticism. That remains to be seen.

For the time being, there is a better option to watch classic Disney television. One enterprising individual has posted on You Tube hundreds of full episodes and rare clips under the heading "Keeping Walt in Disney." It is a great resource to track the evolution of the series, especially the different names and title sequences over the years. Most of the uploads appear to come from off-air recordings either in their original network runs or Disney Channel showings. Some however are from copies of ABC and NBC film prints that were sent to affiliates that aired the show on a delayed basis. A handful even come from rerun airings on Australian TV. The real treasure is seeing Walt himself happily and informatively present episodes. It is a reminder that Disney is capable of offering solid entertainment. I don’t think that is asking for too much.

I’d like to conclude this essay with some episode recommendations. This is by no means a definitive list of the best ones. But they are some of my favorites and maybe yours too. If you grew up with The Wonderful World of Disney, you probably know of others that bring back fond memories.

The Disneyland Story (October 27, 1954)—This is the premiere of the anthology series. The first half-hour is a preview of Disneyland the park which was under construction as well as upcoming episodes of Disneyland the TV show. The highlight is Fess Parker’s performance of "The Ballad of Davy Crockett," heard for the first time. The Crockett shows and its theme song were soon to become major hits, far exceeding Walt’s or anyone else’s expectations. Those five episodes, first aired between 1954 and 1956, are also highly recommended. The second half-hour is devoted entirely to Mickey Mouse with highlights from his then-25 plus year career. In introducing the beloved character Walt famously says, "I only hope we never lose sight of one thing—that it was all started by a mouse."

From All of Us to All of You (December 19, 1958)—Jiminy Cricket hosts this collection of Christmas and winter-themed shorts along with "memorable moments" from classic animated features. The order and selection of cartoons would change in subsequent airings. Most showings from 1963 onward offered a "surprise gift" consisting of an extended excerpt of a new Disney animated feature film. This episode is still seen annually in Sweden, Finland, Denmark, Norway and Iceland where it is ranked as one of the most watched programs each year.

An Adventure in Color / Mathmagic Land (September 24, 1961)—After seven years on ABC in black-and-white, the anthology is now "brought to you in living color on NBC."  Walt previews the new format and then introduces Professor Ludwig Von Drake (Donald Duck’s uncle) who humorously attempts to explain the mechanics of color. One statement in particular is brutally honest: "This whole program is being seen in color. And that’s a lie! You know that’s a lie because only the people with color tv sets are seeing this in color!"” Watch for the spectacular kaleidoscope opening with the classic theme penned by Richard & Robert Sherman, and a not-too-subtle jab at the NBC Peacock. The second half of the episode is the 1959 featurette "Donald in Mathmagic Land," the first Disney cartoon to be shown in its entirety on color television.

Fire on Kelly Mountain (September 30, 1973)—A Forest Service fire lookout spots smoke from a lightning strike and is sent out to investigate while another major fire is raging nearby. He is the only person keeping what is initially a small blaze from turning into one more inferno. Filmed on location, the action is punctuated with frightening wildfire footage (primarily taken from the 1961 docudrama episode "A Fire Called Jeremiah") and an intense music score by longtime Disney composer Buddy Baker. Starring Larry Wilcox, Andrew Duggan and Anne Lockhart (daughter of June).

Three on the Run (January 8, 1978)—Two brothers with three unlikely—and seemingly inept—dogs decide to enter an annual sled race that was once won by their deceased father. The episode is again enhanced by music from Buddy Baker especially during the race sequence. This particular show holds a sentimental element to me. The white dog in this story looked exactly like our German Shepherd that we called Bullet. Yes, our dog was named after the Steve McQueen movie. Starring Denver Pyle, Davey Davision, Peggy Rea and Ron Brown. Brown was an actor in Disney nature stories such as Charlie the Lonesome Cougar and Lefty the Ding-a-ling Lynx. He also served as a co-producer for other animal films made by the studio.

One Hour in Wonderland (December 25, 1950)— I’m including this because this was the first Walt Disney television production. The original format of the anthology series can be traced to this special, which partially serves to promote the 1951 animated feature Alice in Wonderland. It stars Walt Disney and Edgar Bergen, with Charlie McCarthy and Mortimer Snerd; also appearing are Kathryn Beaumont (the voice of Alice), Bobby Driscoll, and Walt’s daughters Diane and Sharon Disney. Hans Conried plays the Magic Mirror who also guest hosted several episodes of the anthology. According to the late Disney historian and author Jim Korkis (who passed away in 2023), it was estimated some 20 million viewers tuned in at a time when there were only 10.5 million sets in the United States. The huge success of the special led to another holiday program called "The Walt Disney Christmas Show" in 1951. In February 1953 Ed Sullivan devoted an entire edition of his Toast of the Town to Walt Disney, little knowing Walt’s series would one day air in part opposite Ed’s "really big show."

Thanks again to Mitchell for giving me the opportunity to contribute to Its About TV! TV  

This week in TV Guide: October 23, 1954

A few years ago, someone left a comment regarding this weekly feature that said, in essence, "why so few issues from the 1950s?" It was a good question, as most questions from all of you are. After all, issues of TV Guide from the 1950s don't necessarily cost any more than from any other era, unless the person on the cover went on to become really famous. I suppose it's a combination of things: first, that not having been alive during the 1950s, I'm not able to offer any personal experiences to augment the stories that these issues tell. Second, as we all grow older, fewer and fewer of the programs from the Fifties create the kind of pop culture impact that make them worthwhile to those of you reading them. 

Or at least that's what I might have thought. However, over the last two or three years, I've made a conscious effort to include more TV Guides from the decade of the Fifties, and I've found that a good story is a good story regardless of when it happens; and also, that there are plenty of things from the Fifties that merge perfectly well with the culture of today. This week's issue is just such an example.

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Walt Disney is known as one of Hollywood's great creative geniuses. His two greatest creations, "The Mouse" and "The Duck" (as he refers to them) have become an established part of American folklore. As a studio head, he's right up there with Mayer, Zanuck, Selznick and Warner. He's also known within the industry as a shrewd, perceptive businessman, and we'll see proof of that this week with the premiere of his new series, Disneyland, on ABC.

One of the questions being asked is "why," as in why Disney has chosen to become the first studio boss to produce a weekly television series. It's not for the money the show will generate; on the contrary, he expects to lose money on the actual show. No, the answer lies with 160 acres of barren land in Anaheim, California, 15 minutes from Los Angeles, which Walt purchased last May. On 60 acres, he plans to build (at a cost of $9,000,000) "what will undoubtedly be the most magnificent amusement ever constructed in this or any other country." (The other 100 acres, the unbylined article notes, "will become a picnic-parking area.")

Like the show, the park will be called "Disneyland," and like the park, the show will be divided into four segments: Fantasyland, Adventureland, Frontierland, and The World of Tomorrow. By the time Disneyland opens next July, an aide confides, "there will be hardly a living soul in the United States who won't have heard about the Disneyland amusement park and who won't be dying to come see it." Television, he concludes, "is a wonderful thing." 

And while it's true that Disneyland the show will be the most fantastic commercial possible for Disneyland the park, it's typical of Disney the man that he views the show as more than just promotion; he envisions presenting a program that will be "new, different, and wonderfully entertaining." About 60 percent of the programming will be new, he estimates, while 40 percent will come from the fantastic Disney library—and "some of that 'old' footage will be stuff the public has never seen. We'll show, for example, an entire sequence from Snow White that never got into the final picture."

Mickey, Donald, Goofy and the rest will be the stars of Fantasyland (along with a tour of the studio); many of the Adventureland stories will come from the studio's "Real Life Adventures" pictures; Frontierland will feature original stories (the first one will be Davy Crockett, starring Fess Parker); and The World of Tomorrow will be populated by scientists such as Dr. Werner Von Braun and Dr. Willy Ley. Alone among his studio contemporaries, Disney has long been aware of the potential and profitability of television; he did two hour-long Christmas shows in 1950 and 1951 (each giving a boost to full-length features that were being released), and last year he was the subject of one of Ed Sullivan's Toast of the Town tribute episodes. "All very happy experiences," Walt says. "Sold a lot of tickets at the box office." As far as the prospect of going up against Arthur Godfrey on Wednesday nights, "I've been up against tough competition all of my life. Wouldn't know how to get along without it." Inferring, the article concludes, that "Godfrey ain't seen nothing yet." And neither has the rest of the world.

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If you're wondering what to watch Sunday night, oh, say around 9:00 p.m. Eastern, you have one choice—and if you don't like it, you're pretty much out of luck.

You see, we happen to be celebrating the 75th anniversary of light. Yes, I know you probably thought light went back much farther than that, perhaps as far back as the first day of Creation. You know, all that "Let there be light" stuff. That's just a detail, though; we all know that light really began with Thomas Edison's invention of the electric light, which he demonstrated to the public in 1879 and patented in 1880. (Yes, I know that others have a claim to inventing incandescent lightbulbs as well, but this isn't the History Channel. For that matter, the History Channel isn't the History Channel anymore, The point is, we're not going to debate the origins of the lightbulb here, unless I run out of other things to write about.) Now, 75 years later, David O. Selznick (speaking of movie moguls) is producing a two-hour variety special, Light's Diamond Jubilee, to air on all four networks, at a cost of $750,000, sponsored without commercial interruption by General Electric (along with over 300 companies from the electrical industry). 

Joseph Cotton serves as host, with a glittering guest cast featuring Helen Hayes, Walter Brennan, George Gobel, Thomas Mitchell, David Niven, Eddie Fisher, Judith Anderson, Brandon de Wilde, Guy Madison, Kim Novak, Dorothy Dandridge and Lauren Bacall. And in case you still don't think Selznick's serious, included is a filmed tribute to Edison by President Eisenhower.

And just how do you celebrate the creation of electric light? Well, here are a couple of samples of sketches included in the show:

• "A Kiss For the Lieutenant," by Arthur Gordon. The buddies of a young Air Force lieutenant dare him to ask a beautiful girl for a date. Guy Madison, Kim Novak.
• "The Girls in Their Summer Dresses," by Irwin Shaw. On a warm Sunday morning in November, Mike and Frances Loomis are walking in Greenwich Village. But all Mike can do, it seems, is admire the pretty girls as they pass. Lauren Bacall, David Niven.

Yeah, I'm not sure what the connection is, either, but I'm sure there is one. It probably would help to actually see some of the bits, and here's a clip from one, featuring George Gobel.

This kind of network-spanning broadcast wasn't completely unprecedented back in the day; a similar program, General Foods 25th Anniversary Show: A Salute to Rodgers and Hammerstein, had aired on all four networks in March, and if I'm not mistaken, Jacqueline Kennedy's White House tour aired simultaneously on CBS and NBC, with ABC showing it at a later time. I suspect that today, the only time we'd see something like this (outside of news specials) is for a charity telethon.

As for how the show went over? Robert at the always-excellent Television Obscurities reports that New York Times critic Jack Gould gave it a generally favorable review (“a striking cavalcade of the American individual” and “a remarkable theatrical achievement"), but Broadcasting was much harsher in its assessment, calling it, "(1) a free plug for pleasant but elderly clips from Hollywood shelves; (2) an array of disjointed scenes whose waste of writers, actors and money perhaps surpassed any previous mish-mash in television history; (3) examples of bad taste in pitting amorous scenes against faith and hope; and (4) further proof that Hollywood’s hackneyed press agentry and program formats are bad television," which sounds about right to me.

Considering the lede this week, one is forced to ask the question: how much better might Light's Diamond Jubilee have been like had it been produced by Walt Disney?

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Speaking of anniversaries, there's a full-page ad in this week's issue celebrating the 7th anniversary of Baltimore's WMAR, Channel 2. It's still around, with the same call letters; in this issue it's a CBS affiliate and would remain so until 1981, when it moved to NBC for 14 years; it's now an ABC affiliate. I mention this because there's such a sense of wonder as well as satisfaction implicit in the ad; WMAR started out in 1947, virtually the dawn of American television. (It was the 14th commercial television station in the United States.) What an exciting time to be involved in a new medium! Who would even know if this television would succeed? And here they are, seven years later, still up and running, still broadcasting seven days a week, with some even in color! It's quite a story when you think about it—no wonder they're proud.

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What else? We've looked at a couple of longish pieces, so let's take a quick trip around the dial and see some of the rest of the week's highlights.

DuMont has exclusive coverage of Saturday night NFL games, and tonight at 8:00 p.m. it's the Philadelphia Eagles vs. the Pittsburgh Steelers. (Steelers 17, Eagles 7) Opposite that, The Jackie Gleason Show welcomes the Honeymooners back in an hour-long adventure (8:00 p.m., CBS). At 9:00 p.m., it's another colorcast of the monthly Max Liebman Presents (NBC), with the musical comedy "The Follies of Suzy," starring Steve Allen, Dick Shawn, and Parisian singer Jeanmarie. 

NBC celebrates United Nations Day (yes, there still is such a thing) on Sunday with a special concert from the General Assembly Hall at the UN (2:30 p.m.), with Charles Munch conducting the Symphony of the Air and the Schola Cantorum, and speeches from New York Mayor Robert Wagner, UN Secretary General Dag Hammarskjold, and Eleanor Roosevelt. See what electricity hath wrought? And on Ed Sullivan's Toast of the Town, guests include dancer Carol Haney, singers Robert Merrill and Pearl Bailey, jazz combo the Treniers, and the acrobatic team of Vivien & Tessi. (8:00 p.m., CBS)

Monday gives us two of the Golden Age's prestige anthologies: first, Robert Montgomery Presents (9:30 p.m., NBC) tells the story of a young Southern lawyer-politician arrested on suspicion of the murder of his secretary; the story features E.G. Marshall, and wouldn't it be great if he was playing the suspect's defense attorney? (The young Lawrence Preston adventures!) Incidentally, the IMDb entry for this story describes it as "The effects of television coverage on justice are highlighted as facts get distorted along party lines and the cameras cover the 'event' inside and outside the courtroom." Sounds rather relevant on several levels, don't you think? I'd rather like to see that sometime. Meanwhile, our other drama, Studio One (10:00 p.m., CBS) stars Polly Bergen in a mystery "set in the Paris salon of designer St. Pierre." Oui.

Another anthology, Studio 57 (Tuesday, 8:30 p.m, DuMont) caught my attention for another reason. It might be a great episode or it might not, but considering our subject matter this week, how can you pass up a story that takes place at "a new kind of amusement park" called "Kiddieland"? Answer: you can't. Which reminds me that Wednesday brings the premiere of Disneyland (7:30 p.m, ABC), and Walt wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to make this show different. Tonight's episode begins with a trip to Disney's Burbank studios, followed by the beloved Mickey Mouse short "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" from Fantasia, and then a look at Kirk Douglas, Peter Lorre and James Mason on the set of the upcoming Disney epic 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.  

CBS counters NBC's Max Liebman spectacular on Thursday with the second Shower of Stars presentation, "Lend an Ear," (8:30 p.m.), a TV adaptation of the hit 1948 Broadway musical, starring Edgar Bergen, Charlie McCarthy, Mortimer Snerd, and Effie Klinker. Oh, and Sheree North, Gene Nelson, Joan Tyler, and a special appearance by Mario Lanza. That's followed by Four Star Playhouse (9:30 p.m., CBS), which (as you probably know) comes from Four Star Productions, the four partners being Dick Powell, Charles Boyer, David Niven, and the star of tonight's episode, Ida Lupino. She plays a schoolteacher investigating her own nephew's conduct and trying to figure out the rest of the story. The cast includes Hugh Beaumont, but the nephew's name is neither Wally nor Beaver.

There was a time, believe it or not, when Columbia University used to field a big-time college football program. No, really; they won the 1934 Rose Bowl, defeating Stanford 7-0.* The coach of that team, Lou Little, is still Columbia's coach, and he's Edward R. Murrow's guest Friday on Person to Person (10:30 p.m., CBS), as they discuss the football scene. Ed's second guest is the great Marian Anderson, who in January will become the first black singer to perform at the Metropolitan Opera, in Verdi's Un ballo in maschera. Marian Anderson had quite a career and quite a life—we'll have to talk about it sometime.

*A star of that Stanford team was Bob Reynolds, who after a couple of years in the NFL went into the broadcasting business, winding up as President of Golden West Broadcasting and part owner of the California Angels baseball team. His business partner in these ventures? Gene Autry.

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This week's MST3K alert is a doubleheader: Jungle Goddess (Thursday, 1:30 p.m., WTTG). Two pilots go to Africa in search of a missing heiress. George Reeves, Ralph Byrd, Wanda McKay. Radar Secret Service (Thursday, 9:30 p.m., WTTG). Uranium ore is stolen. John Howard, Adele Jergens. It all puts me in mind for a char-broiled hamburger sandwich and some French-fried potatoes. TV