August 9, 2017

The news media on the "Firing Line": 1971

Warning: political content ahead. (For Ray G.)

I hope you have time to watch this at some point, because it touches on things we see debated quite a bit in the pages of these TV Guides, most recently with Chet Huntley just over a week ago. It's William F. Buckley Jr.'s Firing Line from 1971: the title is "The News Twisters," the topic is media bias in presentation of the news, and the guests are TV Guide's Edith Efron and CBS's Andrew Rooney. The positions offered are fairly predictable - as one commentator offers, "the more things change, the more they stay the same" - but no less interesting for all that. No matter how you feel about the issue, you should find this discussion enjoyable; it's one thing to read about this in context, but it's always fun to see it play out in real time, as it were, especially with two of the people we read (and read about) so much.

August 7, 2017

What's on TV? Wednesday, August 7, 1963

This week it's a return trip to St. Louis; the last time we had a TV Guide from this area was last year, but back then the issue was from 1977. Only five stations to choose from, as was the case with so many metropolitan areas in the early '60s, and the educational station doesn't sign on until after dinner. Let's see what we have to choose from.

August 5, 2017

This week in TV Guide: August 3, 1963

I wonder what it must have been like as a writer on The Dick Van Dyke Show with Morey Amsterdam as a member of the cast. It's a rhetorical question, of course; I'm sure there are plenty of books and articles out there that can tell you exactly who the show's writers were, what they'd done in the past and what they'd go on to do in the future, how they felt about working with Amsterdam and the rest of the cast members. My point is that Morey Amsterdam is known as the man of a million jokes - more jokes than anyone alive, in all likelihood - and Dick Van Dyke himself estimates that Amsterdam is responsible for "Thirty percent of all the humorous lines in the script." Richard Deacon, who plays the beleaguered Mel Cooley, producer of "The Alan Brady Show" and perpetual foil for Amsterdam's character Buddy Sorrell, says that learning to work with Amsterdam was a real challenge. "I'm a disciplined actor who adheres to every word of script. But not Morey the ad-libber. He wings it. At first this caused me great confusion. Now I'm used to him and I respect him, but occasionally his genius still unnerves me. Like no matter what naybody says he'll always top them. I keep telling him: 'Morey, can't I just please have the last word once?' But it never happens." He even sits in on the rewrite sessions, and if you had someone with his talent at your disposal, wouldn't you want him there?

It's no wonder Morey can come up with the stories, not when you listen to him talk about his own adventures, like his encounters with the all-time great gangster Al Capone, who used to frequent the saloon where Amsderdam was MC. "Capone loved me. He'd pick me up and drive me to his house, which was behind a night club in Cicero. There I'd play Italian songs for him and he'd cook spaghetti for me and other buddies. One night Charles G. Dawes, Vice President of the United States, came in and requested I join his table. Later Capone picked me up as usual. That was the one night in my life that I had dinner with both the Vice President and the president of vice."

Morey's no stranger to television, having appeared on several series over the years, and he knows a good one when he sees it. He praises the cast, the way they get along together, the way they all work together to make the show a success. And as for Mary Tyler Moore, whose role on the show seems to be increasing over time, "She's the most talented glamor comedienne in our business and I adore her."

So that's what I mean when I wonder what it must be like to work as a writer for a show that Morey Amsterdam's on. It's gotta be tough. I mean, you might figure it's unlikely you can write anything as funny for him as he could write himself (his joke file is mostly in his head; "It's quicker for me to create new jokes than to look up oldies anyway."), that in fact he can probably write lines for the rest of the cast that are funnier than the ones you come up with (and, says Van Dyke, "He smooths over occasional rough spots we have with regard to temperament"). I'd be so insecure, I'd worry that he wouldn't think the material I wrote for him would be good enough, which probably explains why I'm at home writing this instead of in Hollywood writing scripts for hit sitcoms.

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Aside from the obvious, one of the reasons why the starlet features are so often included in my TV Guide essays is that they tell us more than just who made it in Hollywood and who didn't. They also tell us a lot about the era: how actresses were marketed, the words that were used to describe them, the traits that were thought acceptable for them to base their careers on. We also learn about how perceptive the writers were as judges of talent, based on the number of women profiled whose names remain mysteries to modern readers, or whose careers wound up modest at best.

SOURCE ALL: HADLEY TV GUIDES
This week, I present you with an actress who is a certifiable star of the era, one whose name will still ring a bell with people - especially men - of a certain age. It's Carol Lynley, former child model, previously in Return to Peyton Place, currently making Under the Yum Yum Tree, and focused on one thing: stardom. "Not my husband, not my daughter, not anybody - nothing is going to stand in my way," she says. "I want to be a glamorous movie star who can act. I'm not a housewife. I tried it and found it just wasn't for me." Her husband, who's seen the change come over her in the last few years, says she's now the complete movie star, and won't stand in her way; he's filed for divorce.

And yet perhaps it isn't as simple as all that. Her friends - among them movie producer Robert Mirisch and his wife - describe Lynley as a "warm, wonderful person. I've known quite a few starlets, but this one is the most unaffected, down-to-earth of the lot." In the last year and a half, she's done three movies (including Preminger's The Cardinal) and made four major TV appearances, and she's signed two major long-term movie contracts. She says she'll always do television - "an actress is not an actress when she isn't working."

In the years to come, Carol Lynley will remain prominent in movies - Bunny Lake is Missing and The Poseidon Adventure are probably her best-known future roles; on television, through a myriad of over 200 guest-starring roles in shows of the era like The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Mannix, It Takes a Thief, Hawaii Five-O, Charlie's Angels, Hart to Hart; and on BroadwayThere's also a Playboy spread she does in 1965, which, in the interests of full disclosure, I will note that I have not seen, although I'm sure it makes good use of the charms she puts on display here.

It's true that she never stars in her own prime-time series, never becomes an award-winning actress, but on the other hand people still recognize her name, and her last IMDB credit is as recent as 2006. As she puts it in a 1994 People interview, "‘Guys, what can I tell you? I haven’t committed a murder. I haven’t done porno. I haven’t been married 18 times. I don’t make threatening calls. I have my vices—but they’re all awfully normal." In the world of starlets, that's a pretty good career. After all, an actress is not an actress when she isn't working.

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Some very interesting programs on this week, both in terms of plot and cast. Instead of starting at the front of the issue though, let's begin with the end of the week and work our way back.

On Friday night at 8:30 p.m. (CT), CBS's Alfred Hitchcock Hour presents "Captive Audience" with a stellar cast including James Mason, Angie Dickinson, and Ed Nelson. It's the story of a mystery writer (Mason) who sends his publisher a tape with the plot of his new novel, about a mystery writer plotting to murder his married lover's husband. We see the story acted out as the publisher listens to the recording, and ask ourselves the question: is this merely the plot to a new book, or are we listening to something more? Not surprisingly, the teleplay was written by Levinson and Link (Columbo); unfortunately, at this point we still have to go region-free if we want to see it on DVD in this country.

Johnny Carson's off the entire week, so sitting in the host chair on The Tonight Show is comedian Allan Sherman. What's unusual about this, though - at least to me - is that he's referred to in the listings as "acting host" rather than "guest host." I don't know; perhaps Carson's ill, or indisposed other than being on vacation. It's just that I don't believe I've ever seen that turn of phrase, and it's used for the entire week.

Steve Allen's not off this week, but he might be having second thoughts. The guest on Friday's "Steve's Science Corner" is ant collector Ken Sidney, who tracks down and raises ants. "He brings a sizable portion of his ant herd with him. The ants are distributed over Steve's body while another guest, a hungry ant eater, demonstrates his ability at collecting the little creatures." I don't think I even want to watch that.

NBC's psychiatric drama The Eleventh Hour (9:00 p.m.) features in our look at Wednesday, with George C. Scott and his wife Coleen Dewhurst starring in "I Don't Belong in a White-Painted House," which had to be a provocative drama for 1963. Scott plays a Soviet intelligence officer who's defected to the West, where he's happily living the American dream. But if that's true, then "Why does hie experience these recurring urges to return to the Soviet Union?" The familiar character actors John Anderson and Michael Strong also star.

Wednesday's CBS Reports (6:30 p.m.) is part 3 of "Storm Over the Supreme Court," featuring one of the most controversial decisions in American history, the ban on Bible reading and prayer in public schools. Agree or disagree with it, and you can likely make the case either way, there's no question that the rammifications from these cases continue to echo today. Are things better now than they were then? On that one, I'm going with a negative answer, and personally I'm not at all sure decisions like this aren't part of the reason why. At the time, JFK made the famous comment about how as long as students had to take tests, there'd be prayer in schools. I admire his wit greately, but that one doesn't seem quite as funny anymore.

You might recall that a few years ago I wrote about a TV series I once envisioned called The Killers, which shared the title and star (Lee Marvin) from the '60s remake of Hemingway's short story, but nothing else. Tuesday's Dick Powell Theater, "Epilogue," has a storyline that reminds me very much of that. "At a reunion, an ex-Marine tells his former captain that he hasn't forgotten how to kill. He's been keeping in practice by murdering crooks who have been acquitted even thouhg they deserve punishment." That ex-Marine is, in fact, played by Lee Marvin; Ricardo Montalban is his former CO, and Claude Akins is the police lieutenant investigating the series of murders.

On late-nights (11:45 p.m.), KTVI shows reruns of Peter Gunn, and in "Vendetta," Tuesday night's episode, "Seeking revenge against Gunn, gangster Max Grayco orders his thugs to kill Edie," something which we know from the issue we looked at a few weeks ago is a very, very, very bad idea. In one of those little coincidences that I enjoy, opposite Peter Gunn on KPLR is the Million $ Movie "Just Off Broadway" with Lloyd Nolan also playing a private detective - Michael Shayne, who's found himself sitting on the jury in a murder trial. Just how he'd get through voir dire is left for you to decide.

You know how I'm frequently using the phrase plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose - in other words, "the more things change, the more they stay the same"? Here's a case of the exception that proves the rule; it's the Sunday night episode of David Susskind's Open End (10:00 p.m., KTVI), in which the topic of discussion is "The Biggest Hasle in the Country - JFK's Tax Bill." One of the "hassles" about it is the tax cut that Kennedy wants: Republicans, who favor a balanced budget, claim it's too big and the country can't afford it, but Democrats are all in favor of it. JFK campaigned for his cut with the phrase "a rising tide lifts all boats," the essence of which was later used by Ronald Reagan. Yes, sometimes times do change.

And on Saturday morning (NBC, 9:00 a.m.) actor Michael Pollard is a guest on The Shari Lewis Show. It's a long way from acting opposite Lamb Chop to playing C.W. Moss in Bonnie and Clyde and getting an Oscar nomination, isn't it?

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Anyone in the mood for deviled clams? No kidding - travel to the beach with your portable TV, or make a clam pit in your backyard. I've got a recipe here that serves six!


Let me know how it comes out, hmm?

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Finally, some random notes.

There's a note in the TV Teletype that The Magnificent Seven might be made into a TV series, with Yul Brynner as star. It does make it to the small screen, albeit 35 years later.

Bea Benaderet says she enjoys Kate Bradley, her character on the new Petticoat Junction program, much more than Cousin Pearl, the role she plays in The Beverly Hillbillies. "Kate Bradley is a much prettier woman and there will be no resemblance whatsoever except that she and Pearl are both widows." Interesting, considering that Petticoat Junction is a spinoff from Hillbillies; thus, Kate and Pearl do exist in the same universe. other than a character deliberately playing two roles, e.g. an actor playing his own father, is there any other case of one person playing two distinct roles in the same sitcom universe?

And then, The Editors have an interesting idea in this week's As We See It: perhaps it isn't the length of commercials that bother people so much as it is the number of times their programs are interrupted by them. The NFL's said to be experimenting with this very idea this season; longer commercial breaks, but fewer of them per quarter. well, it only took fifty or so years to figure it out. TV  

August 4, 2017

Around the dial

No look around last week, so we've got plenty of catching up to do, starting with Fire Breathing Dimetroden Time's recollection of one of television's most charming and delightful mystery series, A&E's Nero Wolfe, starring Timothy Hutton and the late Maury Chaykin. It's on my top ten list and, unlike some programs, isn't apt to fall off; how right they are that this was the last show worth watching on A&E.

Speaking of Doctor Who - and yes, I'll probably keep sniping at it - at Steyn Online, the cultural critic Mark Steyn has this to say about the selection of Jodie Whittaker as the first female Doctor: "[M]y choice would have been a CGI Patrick Troughton, so what do I know? But I do regard this sort of thing as, to coin a phrase, cultural appropriation - in the sense that what our age mostly does is appropriate the cultural creations of greater talents and make them into something other." What that something other is - among other things, according to Steyn - is "making [the public's] most beloved characters something other than what they're beloved as." As always, read the whole thing.

The Broadcasting Archives at the University of Maryland linked to this article at Variety, one of the many tributes to June Foray, most famously the voice of Rocky the Flying Squirrel, who died last week at 99. She played countless other voices, of course, including that same show's Natasha Fatale, but I think most of us will remember her as the plucky hero of Frostbite Falls, Minnesota, who helped fight for truth, justice, and the American way - or something like that.

At The Twilight Zone Vortex, it's the McCarthy-era story "Four O'Clock," an example of one of Rod Serling's more heavy-handed treatments that might actually have a far different meaning today if someone wanted to tackle an adaptation. As Jordan writes, a potentially provocative piece can't really hold up under all that weight, and it does waste the talent of an always interesting Theodore Bikel, but I wouldn't necessarily avoid watching it.

Remember Sugar Bear? David Hofstede does, and so do I. But I don't remember The Sugar Bears, the music group based on the cereal-plugging character - or at least I don't without the kind of prodding provided by this latest piece at Comfort TV. Who knew that two of the members involved in the writing and/or vocals were Mike Settle and Kim Carnes? It's kind of like finding out that Phil Collins was the voice of Alvin the chipmunk.

If you weren't following Joanna Wilson's wonderful Christmas in July over at Christmas TV History, now's your chance to catch up with this recap of a wonderful month of Christmas memories, including some from yours truly.

"It is like the final series of The Avengers on LSD, crossed with Adam Adamant, The Champions, and Department S." Now if that isn't enough to get your attention, I don't know what is. The series in question is The Secret Service, the final Supermarionation series from Gerry Anderson, and the subject of this week's piece at Cult TV Blog.

From The Land of Whatever, it's a real rarity that you'll want to listen to: the radio version of What's My Line? Of course, back in the '50s programs shared radio and television space all the time, but we don't think of WML? in that vein, probably for a very good reason: "Sign in, please." Listen in, and see how they work that out.

The Classic TV History Blog is back with "Freiberger's Last Word," which is not the title of an episode, but a very interesting behind the scenes look at how a line with roots from Star Trek found its way into an episode of Ironside, and what it all meant. I love reading about this kind of stuff!

Dave Garroway, the original host of Today, is an interesting, tragic figure in the history of early television, and at The Lucky Strike Papers, Andrew shares a clip from Garroway at Large, the Chicago-based program that launched Garroway on his path to stardom. It's interesting not just because of the look at early Garroway, but because it reminds us yet again of how in television's infancy, local stations were the birthing grounds for national stars. Of course, you have to have local programs to do that, and nowadays I suppose the internet performs that function.

At Television's New Frontier: the 1960s, the year is 1961, and the show is Laramie, the Western series starring Robert Fuller and John Smith. It's a series I've never really paid much mind to, other than acknowledging the fact that it was there, and through no fault of this writeup, my mind isn't much changed. TV  

August 2, 2017

What South Park tells us about ourselves



And now we come to the confession portion of today’s blog, wherein I tell you that I’ve never, ever, seen an episode of South Park. (Not boasting, just fact. Although I've never watched it, I'm quite familiar with it, thanks to my efforts on behalf of you, dear readers, to keep abreast of the pop culture scene.) Now, I know what you’re thinking – well, duh, all you ever watch is classic TV anyway, so what? True, South Park doesn’t exactly fit into my M.O. for TV viewing, but as this article at the AV Club reminds us, it has now been on for 20 years, and so it’s bound to fit into someone’s definition of classic. More than that, and the reason I bring it up today, is that this article asks us to take a close look at the effect South Park has had on society over its run, and how it’s shaped the way people behave. As Sean O’Neill writes, an entire generation has now grown up with South Park always there, a constant part of their lives, with the effect of “allowing a healthy, amused skepticism to ossify into cynicism and self-satisfied superiority, then into nihilism, then into blanket, misanthropic hatred.”

South Park’s influence echoes through every modern manifestation of the kind of hostile apathy—nurtured along by Xbox Live s**t-talk and comment-board flame wars and Twitter—that’s mutated in our cultural petri dish to create a rhetorical world where whoever cares, loses. Today, everyone with any kind of grievance probably just has sand in their v****a; expressing it with anything beyond a reaction GIF means you’re “whining”; cry more, your tears are delicious. We live in Generation U Mad Bro, and from its very infancy, South Park has armed it with enough prefab eye-rolling retorts (“ManBearPig!” “I’m a dolphin!” “Gay Fish!” “…’Member?”) to sneeringly shut down discussions on everything from climate change and identity politics to Kanye West and movie reboots. Why not? Everything sucks equally, anyway. Voting is just choosing between some Douche and a Turd Sandwich. Bullying is just a part of life. Suck it up and take it, until it’s your turn to do the bullying. Relax, guy.

(Sorry about the language there; I tried to edit it as much as possible. But I think it’s equally important to understand just what these cultural forces are, how they walk and talk and influence, and so I’m going to let some of this go through.)

Perhaps this will wind up as part of a chapter in my book, where we can discuss this more at length, but I don’t want to give South Park too much credit for this; we can’t really know whether it created this mindset, exploited it, or merely gave it a louder volume. Neither, however, should we dismiss it's impact as insignificant. The point here is that in comparing television of the past with that of today, one thing we have to consider is the effect the programming has on the public – not just the people who watch the programs, but those who live in the culture populated by and in large part created by those viewers. We’ve seen television pass through many stages during its existence, all the while questioning the effect it has. At various times its purpose has been to entertain, to educate, to challenge, to prevaricate, to lead.

In particular, the history of television is littered with discussions regarding its effect on children. Here, too, the hope has been to educate, but along with that – or maybe I should say in conflict with it – we’ve seen it portrayed as a mindless babysitter, a manic instigator of hyperactivity and short attention spans, an agent provocateur, a thief that robs the young of their childhood and turns them into cynical, sexualized, immature mini-adults. This is what happens when television’s purpose is to tear down.

Sometimes television mirrors the culture, sometimes it drives it. In this case, it’s not clear there’s even anyone at the wheel. Parker and Stone, the creators of South Park, may not have intended this when they started out, and indeed O’Neill suggests they may well have struggled with what their creation hath wrought. But then, we all know the composition of the road to Hell.