Habemus Papam on TV

In case you hadn’t heard, the papal conclave begins today, and within a few days – perhaps, even, by the time you get around to reading this – the Roman Catholic Church will have a new pope.

Dating back to the 13th Century, the conclave, in which the cardinals* of the Church gather to deliberate and vote, is steeped in tradition, ceremony and secrecy.  It seems a throwback to another era entirely - the white smoke coming out of the temporary chimney, the cardinals emerging from the Sistine Chapel, the Cardinal Protodeacon appearing on the balcony to announce the name of the new pope.  And yet, for all its medieval trappings, the ritual has translated amazingly well to television.  In fact, if we look back at papal elections in the TV era, we see that the ceremony has remained essentially the same - it's the rest of the world that changes.

*Those under the age of 80.

Paul VI, June, 1963.  The cameras capture the chimney silhouetted against the Roman sky, the white smoke signaling the good news.  The breaking news is, as always, in black-and-white.  The crowds are polite and respectful, as always.



John Paul I, August, 1978.  Everyone thought the smoke was black, or at least grey - even if you don't speak Italian, you can tell that the broadcasters were as stunned as everyone when the doors swung open.  The look is similar, but the broadcast is now in color, and the cameras capture a closer look at the new pope.  The crowd is appropriately excited, not quite as restrained as 15 years before, don't you think?


John Paul II, October, 1978.  Only two months later, and not much has changed other than that the balcony is bathed in spotlights to illuminate the fall evening.  Note that at the 1:31 mark, as Cardinal Felicci announces the new pope's first name, "Carolum," you can hear ABC's analyst, Fr. Vincent O'Keefe, whisper, "The Pole!  Wojtyla!"  Considering that few outside the conclave thought Wojtyla a contender, it speaks to how well-prepared Fr. O'Keefe is in his preparation.  The crowd doesn't know quite what to make of this new, "foreign" pope, but roars its approval at the choice of his name, in honor of John Paul I.


Benedict XVI, April, 2005.  Here we see perhaps the greatest evolution in coverage.  The cameras are now more at eye level, rather than giving us the feeling of looking "up" at the balcony.  There are more closeups as well, and by the time the pope leaves the balcony (not seen here), we're actually looking over his shoulder at the cheering crowds.  The crowds themselves are less inhibited than we've seen in the past, with applause almost entirely replaced by cheering.

  It's difficult to know what to expect this year.  It will be in high-def, which is an advancement.  I would expect we might have even more camera locations - perhaps even one on the balcony itself. The crowds will be large, I suspect, but this is a strange situation, with the pope having abdicated rather than died; there's a sadness, but of a different kind, and without that closure I wonder if people will be as enthusiastic as they have in the past.   Regardless, in a few days we'll have our answer - along with the name of the new pope.  I'm excited not only to see who he is, but how it's covered.  Time will tell.

This week in TV Guide: March 11, 1961

We've been on a bit of a run with 1961 issues lately; this is the third in the last four weeks.  But who could pass up a chance at an interview with the widow of Eliot Ness?

The Untouchables was perhaps, up to that time, the most violent weekly series ever seen on television.  It was ostensibly factual, based on the real-life story of Eliot Ness, the U.S. Treasury agent who did much to break Al Capone's bootlegging operations during Prohibition, and his small group of trusted, incorruptible agents, nicknamed "The Untouchables."  Ness' autobiography*, written with Oscar Fraley in 1957, was adapted into a two-part presentation on Desilu Playhouse and became a weekly series on ABC in 1959, running for four seasons.

*The book might be seen, in today's parlance, as "inspired by actual events."  Fraley wrote most of the book, embellishing stories and adding fictional characters to the extent that in the closing credits to The Untouchables, it's referred to as a novel.  The 21 pages that Ness himself was responsible for were, for the most part, straightforward and factual.  The book was released shortly before Ness' death of a heart attack in 1957 at age 54.

It's inevitable that a show about G-Men battling mobsters would be a rough one; it was not a world for the faint of heart.  I have to admit to The Untouchables as one of my favorite shows of the era.  It's an entertaining, fast-paced program that doesn't require a great deal of thought, but is a great deal of fun.  The bad guys generally get theirs in the end (except for Bruce Gordon's Frank Nitti, who is always foiled but never captured - and a good thing, because Gordon's menacing performance is always a highlight of the episodes in which he appears), and the show avoids introducing soap-opera elements into the lives of its leads, the downfall of many a modern series.  The level of violence is actually fairly mild at the beginning of the series, but ramps up quickly as it goes on, and it isn't long before we see Ness' men smashing illegal liquor stills, tommy guns blazing, bodies dropping everywhere.  In comparison to today's television, though, the violence is milder than a baby's chicken broth.

Click to Enlarge

In a fascinating article (which might well have been ghosted by Fraley, who lived until 1994), Elisabeth Ness reminiscences about the real Eliot Ness, and shares her thoughts on the TV series.  She likes Robert Stack's performance as Ness; Stack "has the same quietness of voice, the same gentle quality that characterized Eliot.  At times, even Stack's small mannerisms are similar."  He's a bit more serious than the real Ness, but she adds that "Mr. Stack has been given less to laugh at than Eliot found in real life."

She's also a fan of the program and never misses it, even though by this time the show has strayed so far from real life that "I no longer know what it will be about."  However, even though the stories may be fictional, Mrs. Ness says "they are, in spirit, the same - the enforcement of law and order, the fight against exploitation of the law-abiding members of society, the hunting down of criminals."  Eliot's admirers, she says, "should not feel let down."

The real Eliot Ness was quite a figure - charming, vital, charismatic.  He was three-times married (Elisabeth was the third and final Mrs. Ness), and - ironically, for a man who made his reputation fighting bootleggers - was a heavy drinker who used to frequent bars and amaze people with his tales of crimefighting.  He held a Master's degree in criminology and was one of the first law enforcers to use the lie detector, he helped pioneer the use of two-way radios in police cars, he was an early advocate for civil rights and a crusader against juvenile delinquency.  He was a fan of art, the theater and ballet - but also boats, cars and the Indy 500.

Most of all, Elisabeth Ness writes, Eliot should be remembered as a man of integrity and principle, an independent thinker, and a man who "was a practical do-gooder."  He enforced the law, but "never tried to reform the world.".

***

No Sullivan vs. The Palace this week, as The Hollywood Palace is still just a glimmer in the eye of some television executive.  Ed's guests this week, in case you're wondering, are (in a tribute to St. Patrick's Day) musical comedy star Tammy Grimes, actor Pat O'Brien, Irish tenor Brendan O'Dowda and the Clancy brothers with Tommy Maken, folk-singing group, and Irish harpist Mary O'Hara.

Did Ed have the best variety show of the week?  Saturday's Lawrence Welk show is also a St. Patrick's special, with the regular cast.  On Tuesday, Garry Moore's guests are singers Dorothy Collins and Steve Lawrence, and comedian Bob Lewis.  Perry Como countered on Wednesday with actor Don Amache and singer Frances Langford.  Ernie Ford welcomes singer Gordon MacRae on Thursday.

For my choice, I'm going with Friday's Bell Telephone Hour, an exploration of music inspired by William Shakespeare, with Shakespearean expert Dr. Frank Baxter hosting an hour featuring opera stars Patrice Munsel and Joan Sutherland, musical theater star Alfred Drake, ballet dancers Violette Verdy and Jacque d'Ambroise, and Sir John Gielgud with dramatic readings.  Not bad, if you ask me.

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Since this is the third 1961 issue in the last four weeks, we should be pretty familiar with the programming guide, so let's focus the rest of our time on the information in what I used to call the "shiny section."

The shiny section always enjoyed casting the spotlight on the most attractive new starlets, and this week is no different.  There are profiles of two: Asa Maynor, "an up-and-coming TV actress," had a brief career and was married to 77 Sunset Strip's Edd Byrnes, before retiring become an executive at NBC and interior decorator.  However, the other was Lee Remick, and she turned out to have a pretty good career for herself.

Is the President overexposed?  That's the question the "For the Record" section asks.  On Sunday, February 26, JFK appeared on the premiere of the CBS documentary series Accent, where he discussed fellow New Englander Robert Frost.  On Tuesday night, he was the subject of the NBC White Paper JFK: Report No. 1.  Wednesday saw all three networks carry taped coverage of his press conference.  (These were the days before presidential press conferences were shown live.)  Thursday he was on that Life magazine anniversary special I referenced a couple of weeks ago.  He was also seen throughout the week in taped appeals for the Red Cross.  Today, regardless of who the President is, I'm sure people of all parties would be relieved if he only appeared this often.

Speaking of current events, the New York TV Teletype advises us that the National Aeronautics and Space Administration has alerted networks of "a probable attempt to launch a man into space from Cape Canaveral in early spring."  They speak of a suborbital flight, about 250 miles downrange - the same flightplan that was recently followed by the chimpanzee Ham.

NBC's The Nation's Future plans a debate between movie producers Dore Schary and Otto Preminger on the subject "Should the movie industry be forced to classify its films?"  The show, which eventually aired on April 29, had Hollywood bad-boy Preminger arguing that movies should be rated, but that the film's producer should be the one responsible for the rating, and that the government should have no involvement whatsoever.  Schary thought ratings were a bad idea - after all, what producer would want to classify a film as "not suitable for children."  To Schary's thought, such a rating would offer no difference between a pornographic film and one that was simply worthy of mature viewing.  Which is, in essence what we've wound up with both the X rating and the NC-17, which most producers regard as the kiss of death.

Finally, "if a sponsor can be lined up," ABC plans to debut its Saturday sports anthology program on April 29, with a bullfight from Seville, Spain.  The show did indeed debut on April 29, but instead of the bullfight, it carried live coverage of the Penn and Drake relays.  And thus was the start of ABC's Wide World of Sports.

***

Back on February 16, ABC Close-Up presented a documentary on the first week of school integration in New Orleans.  Entitled "The Children Were Watching," it was, by all accounts, a pretty unsparing look at the anger and racism expressed by the parents of schoolchildren, while those very children watched and learned the attitudes of their parents.  That provoked the following letter to the editor from Mrs. John R. Lepak of Santa Ana, California:

The first time I saw a Negro was when I was seven.  In fact, it was my seventh birthday - the day my home town was liberated from the Nazis.  He gave me the most precious birthday present a person could receive.  At the time, I thought the candy he gave me was the best present I ever had.  But, of course, now I realize he gave me my freedom, which is by far more precious.  So why can't people, like the people in Little Rock and New Orleans, give the Negro his freedom?   I hope that programs like "The Children Were Watching" will continue and open the eyes of people so they can take a good look at themselves.  I'm sure they'll be shocked.

That was only 52 years ago.  At the time, the educational institution where I currently work prohibited black students from enrolling, a situation they wouldn't rectify for another year.  They're currently commemorating 50 years of integration, and while it's laudable, perhaps if they'd spent a little more time looking at themselves, as Mrs. Lepak suggests, instead of the color of their student body - well, perhaps change would have come a lot earlier.  I wonder, if they could watch this documentary today, if they would see themselves still in the images? TV  

Around the Dial

Another great selection of stories around the Net. Let's take a look at a few, starting with our CTBA colleagues.

How Sweet It Was has a delightful piece on classic TV show ads.  Many of these come from TV Guide, while others come from other sources.  I've killed many hours over the years looking at ads like these.  They tell you so much about a show, and do much to place them in context.  Great job!

Classic Sports TV and Media brings us back to opening day of the USFL.  I wanted this league to succeed, I really did.  I've always liked upstarts: the ABA, the WFL, the WHA, the AFL.*  I far prefer Canadian football to either the NFL or college football.  The USFL's problem was that it wasn't different enough, didn't offer enough innovation.  It was just another version of the NFL, with different uniforms, a few different cities, and a couple of rules tweaks, but nothing more.  And the quality of play wasn't that high, either.  Oh, well.  Still good memories.

*Even though the Packers were my favorite team, I never had the animosity toward the AFL that so many NFL fans had.

Classic Film and TV Cafe presents classic TV SciFi from A to Z.  I note approvingly that there are two references to Doctor Who; D, for Dalek, and W, for Who.  Some fun stuff there.

A new addition to the group, Random Ramblings of a Broadway, Film & TV Fan, presents a pretty neat encounter with Sarah Karloff, daughter of Boris, the wonderful voice of The Grinch and the host of the 60s series Thriller.  Random also has a nice obituary of former One Day at a Time star Bonnie Franklin.

The always entertaining Awful Announcing has a hilarious (because it's true) list of everyone who could do commentary on the NHL and the Chicago Blackhawks.  But then, after what that fool Stephen A. Smith did the other night, almost anyone could do a better job.

Finally, Television Obscurities reports that PBS is doing a best-of on Hullabaloo for their latest pledge drive.

That's it for today - see you back here Saturday! TV  

Close Up: How The Beverly Hillbillies explains your salvation

A while back I’d made an offhand comment that 1965 might well be the year that defined the decade of the 60s; prior to that, much of the 60s still depended on the 50s for its definition; after that, the 60s devolved into the disintegration of everything familiar, an era that continued well into the 70s.

And so perhaps it’s appropriate that we take a closer look at the Malcom Muggeridge article I mentioned at the end of this week’s TV Guide review (March 6, 1965), because I think there’s more to this piece than we can get into in the regular “This Week” format.

Muggeridge, although he once claimed to have no sense of humor, was widely known as a wicked satirist; the New York Times referred to him as a “caustic social critic.” He’d been the editor of the British humor magazine Punch, and he was rarely at a loss for words – or targets of that caustic criticism. He wasn’t afraid of being outrageous; witness his 1957 Saturday Evening Post article “Does England Really Need a Queen?” which, needless to say, created something of a stir back home.

However, there was always a serious subtext behind Muggeridge’s humor, and this side became more pronounced as the 1960s evolved. He became an outspoken critic of the counterculture, especially the drug and sexual revolutions. By the time of his 1966 book Tread Softly for You Tread on My Jokes this more serious side was much in evidence, so despite the TV Guide cover’s promotion of Muggeridge’s article as “a renowned critic’s witty report on the British passion for American TV” (and in fact the dry Muggeridge wit is certainly visible), I think it fair to assume that Muggeridge was really talking about something much more profound, especially regarding the spiritual evolution (or devolution) of British and American society.

The premise of this article is an analysis of why The Beverly Hillbillies has become the most popular program on British television. This is due in large part, according to Muggeridge, “precisely because they are so tremendously American.

The fact is that we Europeans, whatever we may say to the contrary, are crazy about everything American. Indeed, I sometimes think that the more anti-American we purport to be in attitude, the more Americanized we tend to become in our tastes, our speech and our attire.

OK, so that’s easy enough to follow. There’s long been a school of thought that anti-American attitudes are born of jealous as much as anything. (Whether this is still the case, or that in the intervening 50 years American culture has earned that antipathy on its own is another question.) But just what is it about the Hillbillies’ American-ness that makes such an impression on Brits – or fellow Americans, for that matter?

Muggeridge suggests that there is an innocence about the Hillbillies that appeals to a cynical populace. “We, too, yearn after wealth which does not corrupt; after an innocence which triumphantly survives the possession of riches.” Jed may have hit the jackpot with that oil strike, but it hasn’t fundamentally changed either he or his family, “constantly on the edge of succumbing to the lures of luxurious living, but always at the last moment pulling back and resuming their old, virtuous ways.” There is an irony to this, though, in that our cynical selves would rather admire the virtuous than emulate them: “In accordance with the principles of an Affluent Society as laid down by Professor Galbraith, we have rejected the outmoded Christian notion that the poor are blessed, but we should still like to be convinced that it is possible to be rich and blessed.”* By watching the success of the Hillbillies each week, we are reassured that we can have our cake and eat it too.

*Muggeridge was in large part responsible for bringing Mother Teresa to popular light through his book Something Beautiful for God. I suspect therefore that the phrase “outmoded Christian notion” is meant as brittle sarcasm.

And this success bodes well not only for the here and now, but for the hereafter as well. “Week by week [the Hilbillies] demonstrate that, though possessed of great wealth, they can still just get through the needle’s eye into the kingdom of heaven.” Muggeridge expands on this spiritual aspect, for it is one that is crucial to understanding the role of television in modern culture – it “is largely dedicated to providing reassurance on precisely this score.”

The early Christians, in order to secure themselves against indulgence in sensuality and cupidity, persuaded themselves that their fleshly appetites were vicious and great possessions a handicap to virtuous living. The writings of the fathers and the saints are full of denunciations of sex and riches. Now, when we have created a way of life in which sex is our chief relaxation and riches our main pursuit, traditional Christian teaching in this respect would seem to require revision. We cannot accept the drastic notion of ourselves as sinners. Nor can we in decency just repudiate the fathers and the saints.*

*Almost 50 years hence, has anything really changed?

The answer, therefore, is to demonstrate that the two can coexist, “that, like the Hillbillies, we can be rich and still successfully repel the assaults of the Evil One.”

It is not only tempting to draw parallels between the 60s that Muggeridge describes and our own time, it is virtually impossible not to do so. Many of us dream of what we would do with sudden wealth, should our Powerball number finally come up. We may quit our jobs, buy homes for our loved ones, establish scholarships, fund charities, buy a fancy sports car. One thing is for sure, though: our sudden wealth will not change who we are. We not only say this, we not only believe it will be so, we have a desperate need to believe it.

The role of television in all this cannot be minimized. As I’ve so often suggested, television does not create so much as it reflects, and the truth reflected by the success of the Hillbillies is one that dates back to the Victorians. “[O]bsessed as they were with the lusts of the flesh, [the Victorians] were always trying to demonstrate in their popular art that chastity could survive in the poor and the simple despite all the lures and stratagems of accomplished seducers. We, obsessed with money, seek in our popular art to reinforce the conclusion that the poor remain blessed even when they become rich.” Television, therefore, simply takes its place in a long line of visual media as reinforcing this belief.

What saddens me and, I think, would sadden (though perhaps not surprise) Muggeridge as well, is how we’ve seen this attitude change in the last few years. You hear much talk about the utility of morality, especially in terms of religion, and especially in terms of the American Founding Fathers. It is said, and it is a debatable point, that most of the Founders were Deists. However, it is undeniable that most of them understood the need for religion, even if they themselves didn’t believe in its truths. Franklin, for instance, felt that organized religion was necessary to keep men good to their fellow men, writing Thomas Paine that members of society “have need of the motives of religion to restrain them from vice, to support their virtue, and retain them in the practice of it till it becomes habitual, which is the great point for its security.”

This attitude is mostly a given in Muggeridge’s article. Even if we strive to make wealth coexist with virtue, we do not deny the merits of virtue. We know that being blessed is a desirable state to be in, and we understand, even if only subconsciously, that the desire for wealth and power and sex somehow diminishes that state of virtue – else why should we attempt to reconcile it all?

Today, however, I don’t think anyone would be sure of that. Rather than aspiring to a virtue that, though it may be unattainable, is still recognized as being worthy, we now deride virtual altogether. Not only are there fewer and fewer standards which a majority can agree on, there is disagreement as to whether or not standards are even necessary. Viewers in the 60s may have looked at the Hillbillies as quaint, but they felt good about the idea that they could be both “rich and blessed.” Today, the blessed part isn’t important – we’d rather be rich and sated.

Not the Beverly Hillbillies

As evidence of the universality of the fairy tale epitomized by the Hillbillies, Muggeridge had cited, interestingly enough, The Beatles – a group he loathes, calling them “four moronic and unpleasing youths with long hair and little talent.” Nonetheless, a great deal of their appeal in 1965 came from the perception that they remained “unspoilt” by their wealth and fame. “[T]hey are still the same simplehearted, inarticulate Liverpudlians that they always were.” The Beatles are, in essence, Britain’s own Hillbillies.

Now, by the end of the 60s, I’m not sure anyone would have considered The Beatles “unspoilt”- by this time they’d encountered drugs, experimental music, and the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. In a way this exposes the fallacy of the fairy tale that so many longed to believe in. There’s an old saying that “when you lie down with dogs, you get fleas.” Likewise, wealth, power and sex create their own burdens, and by separating these from virtue, we soon succumb to their collective weight.

Muggeridge concludes his article with the observation that, thanks to television, “more people in the world today know The Beverly Hillbillies, it is safe to assert, than know President Johnson or even the Pope. Backward or undeveloped nations are shown by means of television the way of life toward which they so ardently aspire.” The global reach of television leads us into uncharted waters; “Such a thing has never happened before. No need to take on trust the rewards of toil and struggle; it is there, visible, on the television screen.” No matter who he is, no matter where he is, a citizen of the world “sees with his own eyes all he may enjoy and become”.

It’s quite interesting that an article with so many layers would be published in a “popular” publication like TV Guide, but the times were different, and serious content often landed in the magazine’s pages. By the way, if this all sounds a little dry and scholarly to you, it’s not meant to. Muggeridge’s article is in fact quite readable, and frequently slyly humorous. On the face of it Muggeridge is being his outrageous old self, satirizing the desire television has to be seen as Important. But behind his mock seriousness lies a true appraisal of the culture of the 60s and where it was leading, and I’ve no doubt that Muggeridge was deadly serious in his appraisal of what the popularity of The Beverly Hillbillies says about ourselves and our time. As Muggeridge might have said, “I’m surprised that you’re taking this seriously. But I’m even more surprised that you aren’t.” TV

This week in TV Guide: March 6, 1965

The brooding visage of David Janssen graces this week's cover.  Janssen is in the second of four seasons playing Dr. Richard Kimball, the hero of the hit ABC series The Fugitive.  Janssen the actor shares many similarities with Kimball the fugitive, among which is a  lack of comfort with his surroundings.  His friend, novelist Bernard Wolfe, comments that "David is not a fanatically dedicated person.  If he were, all this grueling work would have more meaning for him.  But he is not dedicated.  He has great doubts as to the ultimate aim of it all, as to where it is leading him."

Janssen in fact houses a number of torments: his heavy drinking, which Janssen claims has diminished while doing The Fugitive, but would always remain a part of his life; his ulcer (caused, Janssen wryly notes, by "thinking"); his heavy smoking (two to three packs a day); and the fatigue of his grueling schedule of 14-hour days filming a show in which he is in virtually every scene.  When told that executive producer Quinn Martin "speaks grandly of five more years" of The Fugutive, Janssen dully replies, "Five more years?  Contractually, I suppose I would have to put in five more years, but -"  The Fugitive ran just about the right length of time; David Janssen, who died of a heart attack at age 48, died way too young.

***

Personally, I don't think you need a reason to show a picture of Sophia Loren, but this week we have one. On Saturday, WTCN presents the TV premiere of Two Women, the movie for which Loren won her Oscar for Best Actress.   Channel 11 advertised the movie accordingly.

Now, take a good look at that ad.  Notice anything strange about it?  The placement of that "TONIGHT 10 P.M." strip looks just a little suspicious, don't you think?  Especially when compared to the same picture, unedited:

While this picture might be considered somewhat modest today, I'm sure that 1965 Midwest sensibilities might have been offended by the amount of Sophia's cleavage on display.  Two Women was, as I recall, an art-house movie (and Loren was the first Best Actress winner in a foreign-language film), so it's likely that most people in the Twin Cities hadn't seen it; Loren's sexpot image was well-known, however, so the station might have thought a little judicious editing was in order.

Alternately, because it probably wasn't seen widely and viewers didn't know what it was about, perhaps the station wanted to create the impression that there was more to see than meets the eye.  Or is that too cynical a thought?  I'm just sayin'.

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

Ed Sullivan: Scheduled guests include singer Ella Fitzgerald; Duke Ellington and his band; singer Rita Pavone; singer-dancer Roy Castle; comics Stiller and Meara; the two Carmenas, balancers; and comedian John Byner.

Hollywood Palace: Host Eddie Fisher welcomes actress-vocalist Connie Stevens, comedian Jack Carter, the Marquis Chimps, the Arirang Korean ballet troupe, comedy pantomimist Ben Wrigley and the Kuban Cossacks, dance team.

This contest was pretty much over at the start.  With Ella and Duke headlining the Sullivan show, Palace was going to have to come up with something big to top it.  Eddie Fisher, Connie Stevens and Jack Carter are OK, but the royalty that the Palace needed was already spoken for.  Crown Sullivan as winner for the week.

***

The big movie of the week is a really big one: ABC's Sunday night presentation of Judgment at Nuremberg, starring Spencer Tracy, Oscar winner Maximilian Schell, Burt Lancaster, Marlene Dietrich, Judy Garland and a cast of thousands.  It's a long movie, starting at 8:00pm CT and running for three and one-half hours.  And it's a heavy movie - preachy in parts, as one might expect from writer Abby Mann and director Stanley Kramer.  But less than 20 years after the end of World War II, it's also a portrait of a world still trying to come to grips with the horror of the Holocaust, and a country (Germany) trying to sort out its moral responsibility.

Speaking of which, there's a note that on April 11 the ABC program Discovery '65 will be telecasting David Amram's Holocaust opera The Final Ingredient, commissioned by the network*, based on the teleplay by the famed Golden Age writer Reginald Rose. "Set in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp, The Final Ingredient relates the story of a group of inmates who attempt to hold a secret Passover Seder inside the camp, and their quest for the final ingredient, which lies just outside the camp walls."  Interesting, as this article points out, that ABC conceived of this as a "Passover Opera" that might be presented annually - almost a Jewish counterpart to Menotti's Christmas opera Amahl and the Night Visitors.  But it didn't become an annual broadcast - at least, as far as I know.  It's available for viewing at the Paley Center - might have to check this out someday.

*I'm not positive, but I'm fairly certain this was the final opera  commissioned by one of the big three American commercial television networks.  After this, it would be up to PBS.

Let's see - there's also an article about CBS's series The Nurses, which has just been retooled with the addition of a couple of doctors; it's now called The Doctors and the Nurses.  The nurses (Shirl Conway and Zina Bethune) are now supporting players to the doctors (Joe Campanella and Michael Tolan).  According to producer Herb Brodkin, the move was made to improve ratings and dramatic potential: since nurses can't diagnose patients, there just weren't enough stories to carry the show. Says Brodkin, "Part of the problem was that, in making things happen in a story, nurses are handholders."

***

Johnny Carson's doing a 15-minute sit-in, in protest of the fact that many NBC affiliates around the country (including those in New York and San Francisco) don't carry the first 15 minutes of Tonight (which at the time ran for an hour and 45 minutes), choosing instead to run a half-hour of local news.  For Carson, this meant about half of the nation would miss his monologue, a situation which justifiably caused him some distress - so much so, Carson claimed, that it prevented him from appearing on-air for the first 15 minutes of the program.  His "sick-in" lasts for two nights, after which he agrees to discuss things with the network.  The short-term solution is that Ed McMahon and bandleader Skitch Henderson vamp for the opening segment, with Johnny coming on at the bottom of the hour to do his monologue.  Within a couple of years, that first 15 will be dropped altogether, giving the show a tidy 90 minute running time.

On the sports front, there's the usual late-winter fare: bowling, basketball, the odd golf tournament.  The most notable event: the "first annual" Grand Award of Sport, Wednesday night at 8:30 CT on ABC, presented live from the New York World's Fair, and hosted by Bing and Kathryn Crosby.  The format: "Panels of outstanding sportsmen have selected 20 winners" from a list of 83 nominees representing "the world's top athletes".  The nominees included football stars Jim Brown and Johnny Unitas, boxer Cassius Clay, baseball's Sandy Koufax, basketball greats Wilt Chamberlain and Oscar Robertson, and hockey stars Bobby Hull and Gordie Howe.  At the show's end, one of these winners will be chosen to receive the "Grand Award," presented by former astronaut John Glenn.  I can't find another listing for the "Grand Award of Sport"; it's my guess that it was either replaced or folded into the Victor Awards, which began (coincidentally?) the very next year, 1966.

NBC presents a news special Tuesday night entitled "The Pope and the Vatican," covering the concluding days of the Second Vatican Council and the radical changes (termed aggiornamento, or "bringing up to date") coming to the Catholic Church.  I've been on vacation lately; anything new happening with the Pope?

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Finally, the British satirist and social critic Malcolm Muggerage has a witty, but also very provocative, article on "The British Passion for American Television,"  and what he has to say might surprise you.  Rather than lengthen today's piece beyond any reasonable measure, I've chosen to devote an entire essay to the topic.  Come back on Tuesday to see what it's all about. TV