Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TV. Show all posts

April 27, 2024

Dispatch #453: As Seen On TV

 Bad news for fans of So Help Me Todd: CBS has cancelled the quirky Marcia Gay Harden legal drama/comedy after two seasons. 

In slightly better news, if some of those fans want to know where they can buy Susan's black buttoned lace-cuff blouse from episode seven, they can do so here—along with lots of other fashions they've seen people wearing on TV.



There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

April 5, 2024

Dispatch #441: Minerva's Owl

 


As a long-time cinephile, I enjoy watching old movies and TV shows, and as a bibliophile, I love books, libraries, and bookstores.

Occasionally those two loves combine—as when a character in a film or TV show I'm watching enters a library or bookshop. This happened the other day during an episode of the 1970s cop drama, The Streets of San Francisco.

In The Bullet, an episode from 16 December 1972, police inspector Steve Keller (Michael Douglas) pops into a local bookstore to purchase a volume of verse by poet Ezra Pound as a gift for his partner Lt. Mike Stone (Karl Malden).

During this sequence, viewers get only a brief peek at the store's interior, but that was enough—along with the shop's name: Minerva's Owl—to intrigue me.

Aside from my love of bookstores, this also interested me because my Young Adult fantasy e-book series, The Samantha Stanton Adventures, features a luxurious Victorian mansion with an extensive private library—a library with a painted mural of Athena and her owl on its high ceiling. In Greek mythology, Athena was known as goddess of wisdom, but the Romans knew her as Minerva.

For this reason, Minerva's Owl struck me as a most appropriate name for a bookstore, and one I might perhaps visit someday. During my research, I managed to learn its address: 2181 Union Street in San Francisco's Cow Hollow neighborhood, but I also discovered—much to my dismay—that Minerva's Owl is no longer in business.

It wasn't all for naught, however, as I did learn some facts about the shop's history and its co-owner, Carol Field, a woman with a most interesting life. As I ended my search knowing a bit more than when I started, I like to think that Minerva, goddess of wisdom, would have been pleased.


There's more to come in the next dispatch.
©2024 SummitCityScribe

April 4, 2024

Dispatch #440: Joe Flaherty 1941-2014

 

Joe Flaherty as Guy Caballero, Count Floyd, and Floyd Robertson

I've posted a depressing number of obituaries here over the last seven months—for Allan Asherman, David McCallum, Marty Krofft, Norman Lear, Charles Dierkop, Richard Lewis, Ron Harper, and Barbara Rush—and today's dispatch adds another name to that sad roster: Joe Flaherty.

My life-long love for absurdist humor can be traced back to a few sources: Mad Magazine, Monty Python's Flying Circus, Saturday Night Live, and Second City Television, or SCTV.

In 1981, NBC—looking for a replacement for their late-night Friday concert show, The Midnight Special—slipped a Candian comedy import, Second City Television, into the timeslot. 

At the time, I was already on the lookout for something to tickle my funny bone. Saturday Night Live had just said goodbye to its original cast and creator/producer Lorne Michaels after five seasons, and the early episodes I'd seen from season six weren't very promising. 

ABC's Fridays had shown initial promise as an alternative to SNL, but its quality varied so much from week to week that I'd already given up on it by 1981.

SCTV stalwarts: Levy, Candy, Thomas, Moranis, O'Hara, Flaherty, and Martin.

SCTV, on the other hand, was hilarious right from the start and only seemed to get better each week. Much like SNL's original Not-Ready-For-Prime-Time-Players, SCTV boasted a superb line of comic actors: Eugene Levy, John Candy, Dave Thomas, Rick Moranis, Catherine O'Hara, Andrea Martin, and Joe Flaherty.

Flaherty created a bevy of original characters for SCTV: station owner Guy Caballero, horror-host vampire Count Floyd, talk show host Sammy Maudlin, and news anchor Floyd Robertson—not to mention his hilarious celebrity impersonations like Bing Crosby.

I suppose it was Flaherty's performance as Count Floyd that most endeared me to him. Having grown up with a local horror-host of my own, I just loved it when the Count exited his coffin to introduce a schlocky fright film like "Dr. Tongue's House of Cats."

It takes a lot to stand out among a cast of comedy pros, but Joe Flaherty's SCTV performances—much like those of Phil Hartman on SNL— were always pitch-perfect and hilarious. Fellow cast-member Martin Short referred to Flaherty as the show's anchor.

Mr. and Mrs. Weir

Fifteen years later, when he was cast on NBC's Freaks and Geeks, Flaherty got to riff on his Count Floyd character during their Halloween episode. For this SCTV fan, those appearances as the grumpy but loveable Mr. Weir were usually the highlight of any episode.

Life has its share of ups and downs—sometimes more of the latter—so it's important to laugh when we can. Whenever I needed a chuckle most, Joe Flaherty always delivered the goods. 

You can read his New York Times obituary here.



There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe


April 2, 2024

Dispatch #437: Barbara Rush 1927-2024

Barbara Rush (1927-2024)
After a long life and a remarkable career, actress Barabara Rush has died at 97.

Rush's big-screen co-stars included Rock Hudson (Magnificent Obsession), Paul Newman (The Young Philadelphians), Kirk Douglas (Strangers When We Meet), and Frank Sinatra (Robin and the Seven Hoods). She also had a prominent role on TV's first primetime soap opera, Peyton Place.

As a kid growing up in the 1970s, I hadn't seen any of that yet. Because of my predilection for mystery, horror, and science fiction, I knew Barbara Rush primarily from her film & TV performances in those genres.

When Worlds Collide & It Came from Outer Space
My earliest memories of her are from a pair of classic sci-fi flicks, When Worlds Collide (1951) and It Came from Outer Space (1953), both of which I saw on late-night TV. Rush was especially good in the latter—playing both plucky Arizona schoolteacher Ellen Fields and her alien doppelganger.

Rush with Yvonne Craig (left) and Lindsay Wagner (right)

Later roles such as the villainous Nora Clavicle on Batman and the mystery woman who-may-or-may-not be Jamie Sommers' mother on The Bionic Woman only increased the affection genre fans like me already had for her.

The Forms of Things Unknown (1964) and Cool Air (1971)

I especially enjoyed Rush in spooky fare such as The Outer Limits (The Forms of Things Unknown with Vera Miles and David McCallum) Rod Serling's Night Gallery (an adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft's Cool Air with Henry Darrow) and even a 1972 TV movie about a Bayou Loup-Garou, Moon of the Wolf, with David Janssen and Bradford Dillman.

Rush in Moon of the Wolf (1972)
Beyond those roles, Barbara Rush turned up on scores of other shows I watched back then, including Cannon, Fantasy Island, Ironside, Knight Rider, The Love Boat, Mannix, Magnum P.I., McCloud, Marcus Welby M.D., Maude, Medical Center, The Mod Squad, and The Streets of San Francisco—to name just a few.

Rush was a classy, terrific actress—much better than the material she usually had to work with—but that's why I enjoyed it so much whenever she turned up on the shows I watched—her performance always elevated them.

Barbara Rush (1927-2024) R.I.P.


There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe


 

March 26, 2024

Dispatch #432: Richard Amsel TV Guide Covers

 

Amsel's Police Woman & Rhoda

Earlier this month, I posted colorful, vibrant TV Guide covers from artists Ramon Ameijide and Bob Peak. Today's dispatch features the work of Richard Amsel (1947-1985).

Amsel at the movies: Flash Gordon & Raiders of the Lost Ark

Today, Amsel is probably best known for his work on posters for blockbuster movies such as The Sting and Raiders of the Lost Ark, but from 1973 to 1985 he was responsible for over 40 covers for TV Guide magazine.

Amsel's Hart to Hart and Shogun

Among the qualities I always admired in Amsel's TV Guide work was his photo-realistic portraits of performers and captivating use of color. 

Amsel's Magnum P.I. & Miami Vice
This talented artist may have died far too young, but he left behind an impressive legacy of artwork. Director Adam McDaniel is working on a documentary about Amsel's life—you can learn more about that project here.


There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

March 21, 2024

Dispatch #427: Bob Peak TV Guide Covers

 

Bob Peak's Marcus Welby & Mannix Covers

The late Bob Peak (1927-1992) is legendary for the iconic posters he designed for films such as My Fair Lady, Apocalypse Now, The Spy Who Loved Me, Star Trek: The Motion Picture, and Excalibur.

Peak Film Posters—Star Trek: The Motion Picture & Excalibur
Nevertheless, I'm pretty sure the first time I ever saw his amazing art was on the cover of TV Guide magazine in the early 1970s.

Sci-Fi Heroes: The Six Million Dollar Man & Man from Atlantis
It didn't matter if the cover depicted a cop show, family drama, or science-fiction adventure, Peak's masterful use of light and color made them all coffee-table masterpieces. Even his signature looked cool.

Fantasy Island & Search
You can learn more about Bob Peak's career—and view other examples of his incredible art—at his official site.


There's more to come in the next dispatch.
©2024 SummitCityScribe


March 18, 2024

Dispatch #424: Ramon Ameijide TV Guide Covers

 

Bonanza & The Beverly Hillbillies 

As a TV-obsessed kid, I always looked forward to the day each week (usually Thursday) when the latest issue of TV Guide magazine arrived in the mail.

The cover style varied from week to week: sometimes photographs were used, other times sketches, paintings, or collages.

Among the talented artists employed by the magazine: LeRoy Neiman, Peter Max, Bob Peak, Jack Davis, Al Hirschfeld, Ronald Searle, Charles Addams, Richard Amsel and Ramon "Raymond" Ameijide.

The Waltons & Barney Miller
Ameijide used layered pieces of paper or felt to create 3D images. In his work for TV Guide, the artist employed this technique for cast portraits of popular shows such as Bonanza, The Beverly Hillbillies, The Waltons, Barney Miller, M.A.S.H. and The Love Boat.

M.A.S.H. & The Love Boat
His colorful 3D art graced TV Guide covers for twelve years—from 1969 to 1981, including two festive Christmas images.

Ameijide's Christmas covers from 1974 and 1981.
New Jersey-born Ramon Ameijide died at age 76 in January 2000, but his award-winning art continues to amaze and inspire decades later.

There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

March 8, 2024

Dispatch #415: Rothchilds Toffee

 

Rothchilds Toffee

In Dispatch #413, I wrote about the first time I watched a US President deliver a State of the Union speech. My research into the subject sent me down an internet rabbit-hole of 1970s history & trivia.

Which brings me to Rothchilds Toffee. During the Carter Administration, a series of commercials for Rothchilds began airing on TV. They were shown so frequently that I saw them nearly every weekday afternoon when I got home from school. 

In the ads, people who'd just popped a Rothchilds toffee into their mouths explained they simply couldn't engage in any other activities until they'd completely finished savoring that delicious candy.

The title card from Robert Gorman's Rothchilds ad

My favorite of these commercials featured actor Patrick Gorman as a 17th century swordsman whose duel is delayed by the timely consumption of a Rothchilds candy.

Rothchilds toffee came in three flavors: chocolate, caramel, and butterscotch. Although I remember seeing them at the candy counter in local drugstores during the late 1970s, I don't ever recall buying any—despite those inescapable TV ads.

This didn't prevent my friends and I from uttering the catchphrase from those commercials—"not now, I'm in the middle of a Rothchilds!"—nearly every chance we got back then, which I'm pretty sure we all believed to be the height of hilarity.

Rothchilds toffee faded from the scene sometime in the 1980s, consigned to the candy graveyard of yesteryear. If you hear the name Rothschilds these days, it's likely from a wacky conspiracy theory promoted by right-wing nutcase Marjorie Taylor Green involving Jewish space lasers.

Frankly, I'd rather watch those 1970s Toffee commercials in an endless loop for all eternity than listen to one second of that woman's antisemitic drivel.

"Not now, Marjorie—I'm in the middle of a Rothchilds!"


There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe


March 6, 2024

Dispatch #413: Tasteless but Timely

 

President Carter's State of the Union Address—Jan. 23rd, 1979

This Thursday, President Biden will deliver his fourth State of the Union speech to the nation, which made me wonder: when was the first time I watched one of those nationally televised addresses?

I didn't really pay much attention to politics until my teen years, so the first State of the Union speech I ever saw on TV was probably one given by our 39th President, Jimmy Carter.

I don't remember if I watched Jimmy's SOTU address on January 23rd,1979, but I did see Saturday Night Live's version of it four nights later on January 27th (with host Michael Palin and musical guests The Doobie Brothers). 

As usual, Dan Ackroyd impersonated the President, this time giving the SOTU address while suffering from an attack of hemorrhoids—just as Carter was in real life at the time.

TV Guide's SOTU Close-Up with Preparation H ad beneath.

Judging by the strategically placed ad in that week's edition of TV Guide (see above photo) American Home Products—manufacturers of Preparation H—also decided to cash in on the President's painful affliction. 

Much like the SNL sketch, the ad placement was pretty tasteless—but timely, nevertheless. 


There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe

March 2, 2024

Dispatch #410: Richard Lewis (1947-2024)

 

Richard Lewis as King John in Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

  When I read about the death of Richard Lewis, my first thoughts were about the many times he made me laugh over the years—in his stand-up specials, late-night talk show appearances, and series like Anything but Love and Curb Your Enthusiasm.

 I was also reminded of the time during the 1990s when I had a brief exchange with the legendary comic on the streets of NYC.

  It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon—July 18th, 1995—and I was on the Upper West side of Manhattan, walking south along Broadway.

 Minutes before, I'd purchased a brand-new LaserDisc at Tower Records—this was the 1990s, remember—and was carrying it in one of Tower's iconic bright yellow plastic bags as I walked along.

One of Tower Records' bright yellow bags
  Before I go any further, a brief digression: the Upper West Side Tower Records opened at 66th Street and Broadway in 1983, just north of Lincoln Center. This 24,000 sq. ft. store sold all kinds of music but was renowned for its wide selection of jazz and classical.

  In 1994, however, the building housing that Tower underwent a massive renovation, requiring the music retailer to find a temporary home for nearly two years until that work was completed.

The Ansonia Building, 2109 Broadway, NYC
 

 Tower settled on a similar-sized space just a few blocks north, in the basement of the Ansonia Building, on Broadway between 73rd and 74th Street—which also served as the inspiration for the fictional Arconia in Only Murders in the Building.

 From 1968 to 1976, the Ansonia's basement space was home to The Continental Baths, where performers such as Bette Midler and Barry Manilow got their start. Then, from 1977 to 1980, it was home to Plato's Retreat, a seedy swinger's hangout.

  My knowledge of NYC history was still nascent in 1995, however, meaning I knew nothing about the former inhabitants of Tower's temporary home. Before that time, I was really only aware of the Ansonia from the movies I'd seen it in—such as 1992's Single White Female.

  Anyway, when Richard Lewis stopped me that July afternoon on the Upper West Side—having spotted the bright yellow bag in my hand—and asked where Tower Records had moved, I put aside my surprise, pointed over my shoulder, and explained that it was in the Ansonia's basement. The comic nodded and offered his thanks before heading north on Broadway.

  Twenty-nine years later, that ten-second exchange remains one of my favorite celebrity encounters—primarily for how mundane it was. Sure, I didn't get to tell Richard Lewis how hilarious I thought he was, but I did help him find Tower's temporary home, and that's pretty cool.

The renovated Tower Records at 66th St. & Broadway.

  Over a year later, on November 16th, 1996, I was on hand when Elton John, NY mayor Rudy Guiliani, and Placido Domingo cut the ribbon outside the completely refurbished—and greatly expanded (45,000 sq ft)—Tower Records at 66th and Broadway. 

  After nearly two years at a rented spot beneath the Ansonia, Tower was finally back at its home at 1961 Broadway, near Lincoln Center. It was a truly great store and I loved shopping there, but as the public increasingly turned to the internet for their music, the location eventually closed in December 2006.

  English poet Geoffrey Chaucer is credited with the expression "all good things must come to an end" which one could apply both to Tower Records and the life and career of Richard Lewis. For me, the two will always be inextricably intertwined in my memory.


There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe


March 1, 2024

Dispatch #409: Charles Dierkop 1936-2024

 

Angie Dickison, Ed Bernard, Earl Holliman, Charles Dierkop

  Sad news out of Hollywood: actor Charles Dierkop has died at age 87. As a 1970s kid, I remember him primarily for his role at Detective Pete Royster on Angie Dickinson's 1974-1978 cop show, Police Woman.

  Mr. Dierkop's passing ends Police Woman's run as the oldest American TV show with the entire regular cast still living. As of this writing, Dierkop's co-stars Angie Dickinson (92), Earl Holliman (95), and Ed Bernard (84) are still going strong.

  There was also another Hollywood passing quite recently—comic/actor Richard Lewis—but as I had a brief interaction with Mr. Lewis once in NYC, I'll save that story for next time.


Charles Dierkop (1936-2024)



There's more to come in the next dispatch.

©2024 SummitCityScribe


February 12, 2024

Dispatch #389: Nani Darnell: Zatanna's Inspiration?

 

Zatanna as she appeared in the 1960s.

  The popular DC Comics character Zatanna was created by writer Gardner Fox and artist Murphy Anderson. Zatanna, a magician, was a Silver Age legacy character tied to a Golden Age hero, Zatara (who also happened to be her father).

  In her 1964 debut, Zatanna wore a version of her father's top hat and tails—but substituting fishnet stockings for trousers. Over the years, I've often wondered if Zatanna's Silver Age appearance might have also been inspired by the attire worn by the wife of a popular stage magician.

Mark Wilson and Nani Darnell in the 1960s

  In their stage actNani Darnell played the role of magician's assistant to her husband, illusionist Mark Wilson. During the 1950s, the two performed together on a local Texas TV show, Time for Magic. 

  That show's popularity eventually translated into a syndicated series, The Magic Land of Allakazam, which aired nationally from 1960 to 1964, first on the CBS network and then ABC.

  Zatanna made her debut in the pages of Hawkman #4, which went on sale in August of 1964—during the final season of The Magic Land of Allakazam on ABC. Murphy and Helen Anderson were raising three children in their New Jersey home at this same time—making it likely they were familiar with Mark Wilson's TV magic show. 

Zatanna's 1964 debut in Hawkman #4 by Murphy Anderson (left), Nani Darnell drawn by Bob Jenney in a 1962 coloring book (right).

  It's not unheard of for comic book artists to be inspired by TV or films. For instance, many believe Jack Kirby's design for the villainous Mole Man in Fantastic Four #1 was inspired by actor Anthony Quinn's look in the 1961 film, The Savage Innocents.

Anthony Quinn and Jack Kirby's Mole Man, both 1961.

  So, was artist Murphy Anderson inspired by Nani Darnell's stage costume when he designed Zatanna's look back in 1964? In my opinion, you don't need to believe in magic to reach that conclusion.


 There's more to come in the next dispatch.

 ©2024 SummitCityScribe

December 21, 2023

Dispatch #342: Reza Badiyi

 

  The late Reza Badiyi (1930-2011) was a showbiz legend who directed over 430 episodes of American television. Name a TV show that aired in the US from 1963 to 1999, and Badiyi was probably behind the camera for at least one episode.

  When I think of Reza, however, it's for the iconic openings he created for two of those shows: Hawaii Five-O in 1968 and The Mary Tyler Moore Show in 1970.



  After being hired by Hawaii Five-O's creator, Leonard Freeman, to create the tiles for his new cop series, Reza flew to the islands to shoot footage for the show's opening. In an interview with the Televison Academy, he spoke about the experience, which you can view here.

   Listening to that clip, it's incredible to think that the iconic big wave shot that's instantly familiar to any Five-O fan was almost lost. 

  Standing on a rocky outcropping (likely at Honolulu's North Point) Reza was drenched by the pounding surf while shooting wave footage—and his camera was filled with salt water. 

  Despite this potentially devastating setback, Reza sent the film off to be developed anyway—and TV history was made with the indelible wave image that survived.

  Almost as iconic as that big Hawaiian wave was Mary Tyler Moore throwing her hat into the air with joyous abandon during the opening titles of her 1970s sitcom. 

 While shooting exterior footage at the Nicolette Mall in Minneapolis, Reza impulsively asked Moore to toss her Tam o' Shanter into the air, which she did, thus creating another iconic TV image—and inadvertently making a minor celebrity out of puzzled onlooker Hazel Frederick.

   Reza Badiyi had a long, impressive career and an interesting life. Early on, he worked with close friend Robert Altman, was the assistant director on the 1962 horror classic, Carnival of Souls, and was stepfather to actress Jennifer Jason Leigh

  If you'd like to watch the full 9-part Television Academy interview with Mr. Badiyi, you can do so here.

  Directing over 430 hours of entertainment is quite a feat, but as a kid who grew up on 1970s TV, I'll always remember Reza fondly those iconic openings of Hawaii Five-O and The Mary Tyler Moore Show.


  There's more to come in the next dispatch.

  ©2023 SummitCityScribe


December 8, 2023

Dispatch #325: Norman Lear (1922-2023)

 

Norman Lear

  Comedy legend Norman Lear died this week at the age of 101—his amazing longevity just one of the many remarkable things about him.

  Growing up in the 1970s, I was a regular viewer of Lear's honest, innovative sitcoms (and there were many): All in the Family, Maude, Good Times, The Jeffersons, Sanford and Son, One Day at a Time. 

  Lear's sitcoms deftly delivered examinations of hot topics in addition to belly laughs. I wonder how many Americans had their consciousness raised while chuckling at Archie Bunker, George Jefferson, or Maude Findlay.

  As a kid in 1970s Fort Wayne—a city that sometimes seems frozen in Eisenhower's 1950s—I know my first exposure to many of those issues was often through Lear's ground-breaking sitcoms. 

  I also have an early movie-going memory of my entire family laughing together at Lear's hilarious 1971 anti-smoking film Cold Turkey, which we saw at the Jefferson Theater in downtown Fort Wayne. In addition to its all-star comedy cast, the film also featured a terrific Randy Newman score.

  It's often said you can tell a lot about someone from their enemies, so Lear's vilification by Richard Nixon, Pat Robertson, and Jerry Falwell speaks volumes about his (and their) character.

   Since his death earlier this week, there have been plenty of tributes and overviews of Lear's amazing career and impact, but I like this one by James Poniewozik of the New York Times. 

  Poniewozik, a fellow Midwesterner, is also fairly close to my age, so his reminiscence of watching All in the Family with his Archie Bunker-like father rang especially true.

   American TV—and America itself—wouldn't be the same without the talent, heart, and humanity of Norman Milton Lear.

  Norman Lear (1922-2023) R.I.P.


  There's more to come in the next dispatch.

  ©2023 SummitCityScribe