April 8, 2015

On Stan Freberg, Top Gear, online sports and more

Since we didn't take a spin around the dial last week, I thought I'd make up for it today and look at some TV headlines.  Those of you who are regular readers might suspect that I'm doing this on a Wednesday because I have nothing else prepared.  To that, I'd simply respond that only my hairdresser knows for sure...

The brilliant satirist and all-around innovator Stan Freberg died yesterday, one of the most clever personalities on radio and television.  Like Ernie Kovacs, Freberg's sense of humor was often a little ahead of his time for audiences, but as my friend Tony Pizza commented, whatever humor you've seen here in the last few years was undoubtedly influenced by Freberg.  Here's one of his most famous parodies: the tale of St. George and the Dragonet.

Also passing this week was James Best, most remembered for The Dukes of Hazard but who did a lot more than that.  Comfort TV has an excellent remembrance of him, and Michael's TV Tray recalls a memorable turn he did on The Twilight Zone.

A couple of weeks ago I gave you a piece of my mind regarding the BBC and the sacking of Jeremy Clarkson, star of the corporation's (former?) hit Top Gear.  This article at Breitbart London reinforces my suspicion that there was an ideological bent to this decision, and underlines the decaying corruptness of the BBC.  If only UKIP had the votes to defund it altogether.

Here's an interesting article from World Soccer Talk - not a prediction, but an analysis of why it would make sense for Amazon to get into the bidding for television rights to the English Premier League or some other future sports contract.  When (not if) this eventually happens, it might well mean the death of cable TV - if you don't need it for sports, what do you need it for?

Speaking of which, I've spoken often of my admiration for NFL Films, particularly the genius of Ed and Steve Sabol (each of happy memory) - Classic TV Sports reports that NFL Films is coming up with another promising series, this one on historic NFL drafts.  Were I still a fan of the NFL, you can bet I'd be a sucker for this one.

You should always be reading Television Obscurities for the excellent weekly TV Guide series, but here's another good piece from yesterday commemorating the 88th anniversary of the first long distance television transmission.  What is it they say about the long journey beginning with a single step?  We've come a long way from that day 88 years ago, haven't we?

The TV Guide Historian gives us a look at a vintage ad for Felony Squad, starring Howard Duff and Ben Alexander.  I've read that it was being on this show that prevented Ben Alexander from joining Jack Webb on the reboot of Dragnet in the late '60s - wouldn't that have been great?   As a side note, did you know Webb was planning yet another comeback for Dragnet when he died, and that his partner would have been Kent McCord in his character from Adam-12?

Hopefully that should give me some time to come up with something you something to chew on until Friday, when I'll be back with more fun.  Until then, don't touch that dial - except to follow these links, of course. TV  

April 6, 2015

What's on TV: Monday, April 6, 1959

This week our television travels take us to Virginia, and an edition of TV Guide that even includes parts of West Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee.  We're concentrating on Virginia however, and a hodgepodge of stations and affiliations - I've never seen so many double- and sometimes triple-affiliations.  It does give one a good idea of the most popular shows in a given market, though - the shows that demographics and viewers demand be shown in their area.  Since this is my first time through the market, I won't have much in the way of local background to add, but let's take a look at a pretty good television day:

April 4, 2015

This week in TV Guide: April 4, 1959

Most of the significant TV Guide listings we run across are those that weren't particularly important at the time but only gained cultural heft when looked at from the perspective of the future.  Every once in a while, though, you find one that tells you all you need to know, one that even at the time must have been recognized for some particular significance.  This week we have such an instance.

It's the Steve Allen Show, airing Sunday night at 7:30 ET on NBC, and its list of guests gives you the past, present and future of television - and American culture -all in one hour.  The guests are The Three Stooges, singers Connie Russell and David Allen, and comedian Lenny Bruce.

Consider that for a moment.  In the Stooges we have the past, a team who started in vaudeville in the '20s and made their first movie short for Columbia in 1934, and thanks to television are enjoying renewed popularity today.  Connie Russell and David Allen represent the present, the music styles of 1959.  And Lenny Bruce is the future, the "blue" comedian: topical, no-holds barred, nothing sacred.  Could you possibly have a better cross-section of twentieth-century American pop culture on one television show than that?  It's something to think about, and keep thinking about.

***

For those of you scoring at home -
or even if you're alone.
This week's television highlight is the 31st Academy Awards, broadcast live on NBC at 10:30pm ET Monday night from the Pantages Theater in Hollywood.  An interesting choice for the five men acting as emcees for the broadcast: Bob Hope (of course) and past hosts David Niven* and Jerry Lewis, but also Sir Laurence Olivier, Tony Randall, and Mort Sahl.  Randall has appeared in many of the light sex-comedies of the late '50s, but Sahl was primarily a comedian - the first stand-up comic, according to the always-reliable Wikipedia; the forerunner to Lenny Bruce, as a matter of fact.  I'm all for him hosting the show; I'm sure he injects some life into it.

*Niven's most famous role as an Oscar host has to be the streaker incident in 1974; nobody else could have handled the situation with his panache, although the conductor - was it Henry Mancini? - ordering the orchestra to play "Sunny Side Up" comes close.

This year's winners are a mixed group; Niven himself wins Best Actor for Separate Tables (the only time a host is also a winner the same year), while Susan Hayward takes home the Best ctress award for I Want to Live!  The winner of Best Picture, Gigi, sets a record by winning nine Oscars, although it will be broken the next year by Ben-Hur.  It's also the last movie until The Last Emperor to win Best Picture without being nominated for any of the acting awards.

So why do we want to remember this broadcast?  Well, probably for the misfortune that befell Jerry Lewis, the last of the five hosts.  Lewis had been widely praised for his previous hosting turns, and there'd be no reason to think that there'd be any trouble with this one.  But - and you might want to make sure you're sitting down when you read this - the show ran short.  Producer Jerry Wald miscalculated the timing, cutting too much from the broadcast, and Lewis suddenly found himself being told to vamp for twenty minutes to fill the allotted time.  He didn't get that far, of course; the whole thing became such a mess that NBC finally cut away from the broadcast, showing a short film about guns until the Jack Paar show came on.


I can understand that it must have been embarrassing; however, if I could bring Jerry Wald back today, I would.  An Oscarcast in less than two hours!

By the way, I've never liked the idea of televising the Oscars on Sunday night.  It takes away something from the whole event; Sunday nights ought to be for winding down, getting ready for the work week.  When it was on Mondays there was something special about it, the idea that all through the day you had something to look forward to, and somehow it made the day pulse with a little more energy.  Even though they can start it earlier on Sundays (nobody's coming home from work) it still runs too damn long.  I know, you kids get off my lawn.

***

The big news in sports is the final round of The Masters golf tournament, played on Sunday in Augusta, Georgia and broadcast on CBS, as it has been every year since 1956.*  Coverage is sparse by today's standards: only 90 minutes, covering the last four holes.  One of CBS' lead announcers will go on to slightly bigger fame when he gets his own show on ABC: Jim McKay.  As for the winner, Art Wall fires a final-round 66, birding five of the last six holes, to win by a shot.  The defending champion, Arnold Palmer, finishes third; a teen-age amateur named Jack Nicklaus playing in his first Masters, misses the cut by a single stroke.  He'd go on to play in the tournament 44 more times, doing a little better than that.

*That's 60 years for those of you scoring at home, or even... nah, never mind.

Sunday's a pretty good night for TV; in addition to The Masters and that Steve Allen show I mentioned above, Art Carney and the Baird Marionettes star in a charming musical play based on Dukas' "The Sorcerer's Apprentice."  You might recognize the music - in fact, you probably would.  It's the music that went along with Mickey Mouse's disastrous turn as a wizard in the first segment of Disney's Fantasia.


Told you you'd recognize it!

***

Continuing a pretty good week of television, at 10pm on Monday CBS airs a notable rerun on Desilu Playhouse.  It's "The Time Element" by Rod Serling, and it serves as the defacto pilot for The Twilight Zone (although a Twilight Zone pilot was shot prior to the series premiere).  It's the gripping story of a man (William Bendix) who tells his doctor that when he goes to sleep, he actually travels back in time to Pearl Harbor on December 6, 1941, where he attempts to warn the military of the coming disaster.  I won't give away the ending, but it's pure TZ-era Serling.  See for yourself:


Desilu Playhouse, hosted by Desi Arnez and sponsored by Westinghouse, was only on for two seasons, but it did pretty well for itself - in addition to "The Time Element," it also aired the pilot for what became one of ABC's biggest hits to that date: The Untouchables.

***
"It's such a fine day for baseball, I think I'll move the TV set out to the porch."  With this quote from newspaper columnist Bob Sylvester, Red Smith - one of the greatest sportswriters of the 20th Century - begins his look at the effect television has on the national pastime.  

Unlike many writers of the era, who look to blame television "for everything from juvenile delinquency to the Berlin crisis," Smith's question is not whether TV is having a negative effect on the way the game is played, but if the frequency of games on television is keeping fans away from the real thing.  He cites the fall in attendance suffered by the New York Yankees last season, despite the fact that the departures of the Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants left them as the only game in town.  "In past summers there was hardly a day when a New York fan couldn't find a game to attend in Yankee Stadium, the Polo Grounds or Ebbets Field.  When the Yankees went on the road last year, there was no baseball in town."  No live baseball, that is - but with Yankee road games, not to mention games from the Phillies, Pirates and Cardinals beamed into living rooms via TV, "Fans had to stay home because there was no game to attend, and they got accustomed to watching their baseball at home."  Says Smith, "It was a concerted campaign to educate the public to stay away from the ball park.  It enjoyed some success."  This season will be the telling point, according to Smith.  The sponsors of the Phillies games have dropped out, so the Yankees will be the only game in town once again, both in person and on TV.  "This year ought to furnish the answers."

Television was seen as quite the threat to the live baseball gate back in the day, notwithstanding that the game had gone through the same angst when radio had started broadcasting.  Teams limited the number of games that could be broadcast, and those games were usually when the local team was on the road.  On weekends when they were at home, even the national game was blacked out, in order not to compete with live baseball.  Nowadays, of course, just about every game by every team is available somewhere.  True, most of them are on cable, which means that the fan who depends on OTA television is still limited in his or her choices.  Nevertheless, a dedicated baseball fan who wants to try can probably see almost every game, home and away, played by their favorite team.  TV is thought to be an asset to the game's popularity, and ballparks have become smaller in order to compensate for those who would prefer to catch the action from their own living rooms (or the porch, if it's a nice day).  Quite a difference, isn't it?

(Incidentally, the very funny movie Rhubarb does a nice job of satirizing the TV commercials that were so frequent and intrusive on baseball games.  You can read my take on the movie here.)

***

Last month I mentioned the Hallmark Hall of Fame presentation of "Green Pastures," the first time that Hallmark had ever repeated one of their programs.  According to Television Diary, the program was a success: "Hallmark's extraordinarily sensitive and satisfying version of Marc Connelly's Pulitzer-prizewinning [sic] "Green Pastures" proved a standout, just as it did the first time around in October 1957."  The brief review praised William Warfield's performance of De Lawd, as well as the production itself, saying it was "hard to see" how they "could be improved upon, at least within the confines of the present TV screen."

Also in the Diary, movie mogul Sam Goldwyn announces that he'll be partnering with CBS in a series based on the Goldwyn movie Barbary Coast.  It doesn't appear that the program ever got past the pilot stage, but it's an interesting moment in what was then often a contentious relationship between television and movies.

That is borne out by comments from Harry Ackerman, president of the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences - the people who put out the Emmy awards.  Ackerman says that TV is nothing like the movies, and insists that "It is really radio with pictorial values added."  Make of that what you will.

***

Finally, the cover article this week is on Efrem Zimbalist Jr., who at this point is still starring in Warner Brothers' 77 Sunset Strip, along with occasional appearances on that studio's Maverick.  As my obit of Zimbalist from last year indicates, I have always been a big fan of his, mostly from his work in The FBI.  I've seen clips from Strip though never a full episode, but I've no doubt that he was as good in that series.  

The feature is an interesting story, and it shows what eclectic tastes Zimbalist has.  His father, Efrem Sr., was one of the world's great concert violinists, and his mother, Alma Gluck, was a star with the Metropolitan Opera.  His childhood home was filled with visits from Rachmaninoff, Hofmann, Toscanini (who bounced young Efrem on his knee), Lunt and Fontanne, and Edna St. Vincent Millay.  Some of you youngsters may not recognize these names, but trust me - this is like a Who's Who of classical musicians, actors and writers.  An old friend of the family named Menotti was in his heyday as an opera composer, and Zimbalist decided to put some money behind them to bring them to Broadway.  One of them, The Saint of Bleecker Street, won the Pulitzer Prize and made a profit of $30,000, after which Efrem's brief career as a producer ended.  "I was never interested in being a capitalist.  I'd rather work for a living."

After dabbling in composing and painting, Zimbalist returned to acting with the help of his friend, Broadway producer Joshua Logan  From there, it was a short jump to Warners, and Strip.  He doesn't know how long the show will run - "I think people like the show" - but, with movies in dismal shape, he knows one thing: "I'll definitely stay here in Hollywood.  I'm very happy doing what I'm doing." And I, for one, am very happy he made that decision. TV  

April 3, 2015

Bishop Sheen, Good Friday, 1956

From Good Friday 1956 (not 1965, as the visual on the video says), here's Bishop Fulton J. Sheen, one of the most prominent television figures of the 1950's with a special one-hour edition of Life is Worth Living, on ABC.

April 1, 2015

Is television inherently bad?

Just to show you how long it sometimes takes for me to get to things, I first started this piece sometime in January, and now I'm making another attempt to finish it.  (I suppose I should mention that I'm writing this paragraph at the end of March; in case I don't succeed this time, you'll probably never read the above words.)  I don't usually procrastinate for this length of time, but I've got a concept here that I've had trouble getting my hands around.  In fact, I'm not completely sure I've got a concept at all; I guess ultimately you'll all be the judges of that.

It starts, though, with a trip to the neighborhood used book store - the television section, to be precise. There, I'm accustomed to running into a copy or two of Jerry Mander's Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television.  A provocative title to be sure, especially for a blog like this one, I'm sure you'll agree.

Now, I haven't read the book so this isn't a review, but from what I understand (i.e. the blurbs I read), the crux of Mander's argument is that

many of the problems with television are inherent in the medium and technology itself, and thus cannot be reformed. In specific, the technology of television is not a neutral, benign instrument, or tool. The author argues that in varied technologies and institutions such as militaries, automobiles, nuclear power plants, mass production, and advertising, the basic form of the institution and the technology determines its interaction with the world, the way it will be used, the kind of people who use it, and to what ends.

This is territory we've covered here before; as longtime readers know, my opinion has always been that technology is neither moral nor immoral in and of itself.  It all depends on how it's used - objects can be used to save lives or take lives; drugs can be used to kill or cure; money can corrupt or resuscitate, and so on.  We wouldn't say that gas stoves are inherently bad just because bad men once used them to kill millions of people.  The bottom line is that objects are morally neutral until used by someone, at which time the use of that object or technology assumes a relative stage of morality vis-a-vis the person using them.

Mander apparently doesn't share this view, believing that "that far from being 'neutral,' television predetermines who shall use it, how they will use it, what effects it will have on individual lives, and, if it continues to be widely used, what sorts of political forms will inevitably emerge."

Now, I don't dismiss this argument out of hand.  In fact, there's much in what Mander says that I'd likely agree with it.  Could it be that he's right, and I've been wrong all these years?  I'd hate to think that was the case; my ego might be so dashed that I'd never write for the blog again.  Seriously - although there is sense to Mander's comment, it just doesn't pass the smell test for me.  Television provides great services for people - it can educate, entertain, inform.  Just because it doesn't always (usually?) do that, just because it isn't a perfect technology, does that mean we have to chuck it out altogether?

I think not, but why?

This is where the original piece stopped, by the way.  It wasn't because I lacked an answer; to the contrary, I believe I've found one, but I haven't been sure how quite to explain it.  Finally, I've decided to just go with it.  This isn't a formal review, and I don't write a scholarly site, after all.

What gave me some confidence in my viewpoint came from the teachings of the great scholar and theologian, St. Thomas Aquinas.  Aquinas wrote at length about man's virtues and vices, and how to relate them to the world.  Even though he wrote about them several hundred years ago, his words - as is the case with those written by Shakespeare and other visionaries - tend to be timeless, and just because television didn't exist in his day doesn't mean that his words can't be used in this discussion.

The virtue I have in mind is temperance.  Simplifying things greatly, Aquinas defined temperance as freedom from slavery to things that don't appeal to reason, and further said that we can't be subject to thinks that are lesser than us.  In saying that, he didn't mean to suggest that it was literally impossible for baser, lesser things to control us.  Drugs, alcohol, pornography - these all appeal to our baser instincts, rather than our intellect, and the abuse of them, the addiction to them, certainly controls us.

What Aquinas meant was that the practice of temperance means we don't allow lesser things to control us.  And television, for all that can be said about it, is definitely a lesser thing.  It was invented by humans, a product of human intellect and ingenuity.  From a scientific standpoint, it is a testimonial to the creativity of man.  It is, however, still a lesser thing, one not to be allowed to control us.

When Mander says that television "cannot be reformed," I think he misses the point.  He says that "the basic form of the institution and the technology determines its interaction with the world," but how can that be, if television is a lesser thing?  We can't allow television to become our master; we can't allow the lesser to become the greater.  It can happen, of course, but the virtue of temperance means it is within our power to prevent it.  Mander's hypothesis completely discounts the abililty - the amazing resiliency of humans - to withstand and defy control by the lesser.

It's the same thing with advertising.  Of course advertising is corrupt - as Aquinas would say, advertising wouldn't work if we weren't of a fallen nature.  Our desire for things, for possessions that go above and beyond our immediate needs - materialism, in other words, which is anything but a virtue - may well be the backbone of modern advertising, the foundation upon which our economy is built, but it's also a baser instinct.  We don't have to let it control us, any more than we have to let television control us.

Now it's true that the system can appear rigged, and furthermore I won't argue against the difficulties of maintaining a virtuous life while living in a culture that has allowed itself to be defined by adherence to the lesser things.  Yes, it's difficult, but difficult has never meant impossible.  Yet by accepting Mander's premise, it would appear we have no choice in the matter, which goes directly against the free will with which man is created.  And therefore, I feel entirely justified in rejecting Mander's argument that television cannot be reformed and should be abolished.  (The way in which TV is used, on the other hand, would probably often horrify Aquinas, but it would again come back to not letting the lesser control the greater.)

Does this make sense?  Even after reading it again, I'm not sure if it does.  I think it's part of a much larger discussion, which encompasses not only Mander but other philosophers and sociologists as well.  One of these days I'd love to write a book, or at least a longer essay, entitled Everything I Needed to Know About Television I Learned From St. Thomas Aquinas.  With a title like that, how could it not fly off the bookshelves?  I jest, but I'm serious at the same time.  For example, I've written before about how shows like Mission: Impossible sometimes give me pause when it comes to justifying American involvement in the internal affairs of a sovereign nation.  This is, after all, a strong element of many of M:I's plots.  But Aquinas has an answer for that, in his discussion of the virtue of patriotism, and the abuse of same.  True patriotism not only respects the country in which one lives, but the independence of other countries as well, and his opinions lend greater clarity as to when a nation is justified - and not justified - in intervening in the internal affairs of another.

And so on.  You can see why I view this as such a fertile area for discussion.  It is, though, a discussion for yet another time.