In Memoriam: Ray Harryhausen 1920-2013

Special effects artist/stop motion model animator. George Pal's Puppetoons. Mighty Joe Young. The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms. It Came From Beneath the Sea. Earth vs. the Flying Saucers. 20 Million Miles to Earth. The 7th Voyage of Sinbad. The Three Worlds of Gulliver. Jason and the Argonauts. One Million Years BC. Clash of the Titans.

 

 

 "Without Ray Harryhausen, there would likely have been no Star Wars."

--George Lucas

"He was the man who made me believe in monsters."

--Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead director)

"I think all of us who are practitioners in the arts of science fiction and fantasy movies now all feel that we’re standing on the shoulders of a giant. If not for Ray's contribution to the collective dreamscape, we wouldn't be who we are."

--James Cameron

 "What we do now digitally with computers, Ray did digitally long before but without computers. Only with his digits."

--Terry Gilliam

Mighty Joe Young (1949) On this, his first live-action movie, Harryhausen assisted a man he'd long admired, Willis O'Brien, who had created the special-effects for King Kong 16 years earlier.

Speaking of King Kong, its re-release in mid-1952 proved to be more popular than three earlier reissues, as well as its initial showing in 1933. It was the highest grossing film that summer, and Time magazine called it Movie of the Year. Why am I telling you all this? Because more than anything else, it was the success of this then-19 year old film that spurred on the giant-creature-attacks-big-city stop-motion picture craze of the 1950s, of which Ray Harryhausen played no small part.

The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms (1953) "Burp."

It Came From Beneath the Sea (1955) "If you're going to San Francisco/be sure to wear some flowers in your hair"

Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956) Earth would seem to be the underdog.

 

20 Millions Miles to Earth (1957) We don't fare too well against lizards from Venus, either.

The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) With the exception of the "red-and-white"  burning house scene in Mighty Joe Young, this was Harryhausen's first foray into color. Green looked rather becoming on her, don't you think?

 Jason and the Argonauts (1963) Probably Harryhausen's most famous (and most bone-chilling) special effect.

One Million Years B.C. (1966) In case you're curious, Raquel Welch is not a Harryhausen special effect. All kidding aside, I think that T-rex holds up well against the computer-animated one in Jurassic Park.

Clash of the Titans (1981) Harryhausen's final film. Heads up!

 

Four Alive in Ohio

Ever since Gina DeJesus, Michelle Knight, Amanda Berry, and Berry's little girl Jocelyn, were rescued from the house in Cleveland where they had been held hostage for the past decade, the word "miracle" has been bandied about quite a bit. As in, it's a miracle that they're alive. Or, it's a miracle that they've been found. It is indeed very good news for the women, their families, and even society at large that they came through this ordeal intact. So I shouldn't quibble about semantics, but I'm going to, anyway. It's not a miracle, it's a surprise. A hugely pleasant surprise. I guess it shows just how jaded we've all became that when someone, especially a minor, disappears, we've come to expect them not to be found. At least not found breathing. But a miracle is when something impossible happens. While it may be improbable that someone who's been missing for a very long time will ever be found alive, it's still possible.

Actually, as more details of the absence are known, it seems less miraculous and oddly predictable. That is, predictable if you were in on the details in the first place. These women weren't held hostage way out in the country somewhere. It was a low-income urban neighborhood with old houses and people of all ages crammed together. Furthermore, one of those hostages had a baby. A baby takes a lot of care. I'm told they cry occasionally. Kidnapper Ariel Castro had quite a lot to keep from the neighbors. And the police, whom he was no stranger to all these years, though for reasons having nothing to do with the three adolescent girls disappearance. Castro may have lived in a low income neighborhood, but he himself, until recently, earned $18.50 an hour as a school bus driver. He once left a kid on a bus while he ate at a Wendy's. As a school bus driver is a child's temporary guardian, this was against the law. The police visited his house but no one--including the hostages, who may very well have been bound and gagged--answered the door. Another, even odder, detail is that Castro's then-teenage daughter was the last person, until a few days ago, to see Gina DeJesus alive. No, this was a crime waiting to be discovered. The miracle, or anti-miracle, certainly surprise, is that it took as long as it did.

The always-beleaguered Cleveland Police Department has come under criticism. I don't wish to criticize them myself. At least not just yet. Because, really, everything I've described in the paragraph above is in hindsight. The crime that seems so solvable now may not have been back then. A house-to-house search might have worked, but civil liberties, the bedrock of a free society, have to be observed. As a character says in the 1956 movie Touch of Evil: "A policeman's job is only easy in a police state."

All I can add is this: a miracle is only simple when performed by a saint.

Multimedia

Overheard in the library, little boy, about four of five:

"Daddy, when I finish with the Kindle, can I read a book?"

Ah, innocence. Or maybe just foresight. As far as he's concerned, a Kindle and a book are two media outlets that peacefully coexist. As unaware of the past as he most likely is at that age, they have always peacefully coexisted. It's probably never occurred to him that one may be considered a threat to the other.

For those of us born before 1990, but after 1950, was it any different when it came to movies, radio, and television? Didn't we see those as separate means of communication, each with a message (or a mindless entertainment) specifically tailored to the demands of its particular medium? It never occurred to us that the most recent of those mediums, television, was once considered a threat to the other two.

Until later on, when we read about it in a book. Or on a Kindle.

 

Under the Radar: Allan Arbus

The actor Allan Arbus died a few days ago at the age of 95. He didn't start out as an actor, but instead was a commercial photographer from the end of World War II until about 1970. Now, if  "Arbus" and "photography" sound like they should go together, it's because he was married to Diane Arbus, famed for her black-and-white pictures of, as the Library of Congress puts it, "deviant and marginal people (dwarfs, giants, transgender people, nudists, circus performers) or of people whose normality seems ugly or surreal." But she didn't do any of that until she separated from her husband in 1959.  Until then she was a commercial photographer, too, one who found that profession, and possibly her life in general, rather unfullfilling. I just found out a few minutes ago about a 2006 film called Fur, based on Diane's life in the 1950s. Nicole Kidman played her, and Allan was portrayed by Ty Burell. I haven't seen this film (kinda hard to do in a few minutes time), but I gather from some of the IMDb "User Reviews", Allan is shown as being rather conventional, stable, mild-mannered, whereas Diane apparently was not (just peruse the  disturbing imagery found in some of  her photographs.) The couple finally divorced in 1969, and Diane committed suicide two years later.

 

I don't know what effect the dissolution of his marriage and his ex-wife's subsequent death had on him, but conventional, stable, mild-mannered Allan Arbus decided around this time to enter that most unconventional, most unstable, most unmannered of professions: acting. While Arbus never became a star, he seems to have worked steadily enough. He first had small parts in such 1970s films as Greaser's Palace and Cinderella Liberty, played director Gregory La Cava in W.C. Fields and Me, but was best known as psychiatrist Dr. Sidney Freeman on the TV show MASH.

MASH, based on an earlier hit movie and comic novel, concerned a U.S. Army hospital unit during the Korean War. The doctors and nurses working in such a place in real life would have witnessed more disturbing imagery in ten minutes in OR than could be found in 50 rolls of Diane Arbus film, something that could only be hinted at in a 1970s sitcom. More broadly revealed, however, was the way these health professionals dealt with the stress of that situation, with wisecracks, practical jokes, and hard partying. As only an occasional visitor to the 4077th (12 appearances in 11 seasons), Sidney Freeman marveled at the way the more permanent residents (until their hitches were up) could hold fast to their humanity with good humor in such a hellish environment. But he also realized that while humor may be the best medicine, it can run out, and that's where he came in. The mild-mannered qualities that, if the IMDb User Reviews are to be believed, failed Allen in his marriage, were just right for Dr. Sidney when healing doctors and patients alike once the laughs died down:

!!!WARNING!!! You may find the imagery in the below clip very disturbing:

 

If it makes you feel any better, I think they got that baby from the props department. At least, I hope they got it from the props department.

 

 

A note on the title of this post. Even though there's a character named Radar on MASH, it's not meant as a pun. For a while now I've considered doing a regular feature called "Under the Radar" about talented people in the arts whom, for whatever reason, never achieved fame. While Allan Arbus was no deviant, he was mostly a marginal figure in the pop culture landscape. Some of you might argue that's only fitting. Arbus never had that "star" quality.

He just did quality work.

You can read more about Allan Arbus here.

The Iron Mimic

Margaret Thatcher, former Prime Minister of Great Britain, died about two weeks ago. Her politics weren't my politics, nor her country my country, so I just planned on ignoring the whole thing. But then I read something online that referred to her as a "pop culture figure." No, she wasn't! She was a political figure. Just because someone's on TV a lot doesn't qualify them as pop culture. The woman lived at 10 Downing Street, not Graceland!


Still, I wondered, is there some pop culture angle here I'm missing? Meryl Streep played Thatcher a couple of years ago in a movie, but that was long after she left office. How about when she was still serving the British public or whomever? I seemed to remember a Maggie Thatcher imitator popping up on TV and movies in the 1980s. Or it was it imitators, plural?  I did some research and found out it was indeed the same woman, a Scottish actress by the name of Janet Brown.

 

Born in 1923, Janet Brown appeared in many stage, movie and TV productions, without much notice until Margaret Thatcher was elected head of the Conservative Party in 1975. Brown had no political ax to grind; she simply felt Thatcher was now a celebrity (pop culture figure?) and worthy of impersonation. As you can see in the above picture, Brown didn't look much like Thatcher. Of course, when she was actually doing her impersonation, she wore her hair like Maggie's, but this couldn't hide the fact that she was a more attractive and seemingly younger woman (in fact, she was two years older.)  No, the key to Brown's success was not how she looked but sounded. Thatcher had a highly theatrical, low-pitched, pause-filled speaking style (originally piercing and provincial, she had taken voice lessons from none other than Laurence Olivier.) To compare the two, here's the Prime Minister in 1979 on her first day on the job: 

 

 All right, now here's Janet Brown from around the same time. I know the various political references will be a bit obscure to most Americans (actually, this was so long ago, they're probably a bit obscure to most Brits under the age of 40), but for my purposes, I'd like you just focus on the mannerisms. Brown has them down...quite pat:

 

Man, did you see the name of the web site at the end of that clip? Janet Brown may not have had a political ax to grind, but someone else sure did! Remember, folks, there was no Internet in 1979, so that was added on long after. Stiff upper lips notwithstanding, some Brits really know how to hold a grudge (more about that later.)

 

Janet Brown eventually put out her own comedy album:

 

 

 

In 1981, Brown-as-Thatcher popped up at the end of the James Bond movie For Your Eyes Only. Whoever originally put the following clip on YouTube posted the punchline without the setup. So I'll provide you the setup myself. Bond has successfully wrapped up another assignment, and he and his latest girlfriend have decided to celebrate by going for a swim. However, at the exact moment they take the plunge, Bond's two-way radio wristwatch (Ian Fleming by way of Chester Gould) goes off, with only a pet parrot around to answer it:

 

 

 

Even if you don't feel like watching the video, look closely at the still picture above. See that box of Kellogg's Bran Flakes right behind the phony Thatcher's bouffant? Would it be highly irregular of me to suggest that the film's art director thought the real Maggie might benefit from adding such to her diet?

Janet Brown's Maggie Thatcher finally made her American TV debut in 1983 (the accompanying video says 1985, but various sources I've cross-referenced say otherwise.) The occasion was a prime-time special titled Johnny Carson's Practical Jokes, a forerunner to the popular TV Bloopers and Practical Jokes, which in turn was a forerunner to Punk'd, a show that plays Candid Camera-like stunts (another forerunner--whew!--a lot of forerunning around, huh?) on celebrities, in this instance Joan Rivers, who'd been making fun of the Royal Family. The faux Maggie Thatcher took Rivers to task:





That slap at the end was all staged. Johnny Carson and Joan Rivers remained close friends for another, oh, six, seven, eight months, until she got her own, ultimately ill-fated talk show opposite his.

After Thatcher was ousted as Prime Minister in 1990 (by her fellow Conservatives; they do things differently there), Janet Brown's star generally faded, though she continued to be a working actress well into her 80s. When she died two years ago, it made the BBC evening news:

As I don't live in Britain I can't say for sure, but I suspect, talented as she may have been, Janet Brown will soon fade into obscurity. But what about the person who inspired her act?

Here's a clue. For a couple days last week the song "Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead" sat at number 2 on the British pop charts. Why is something that originally debuted in a 1939 MGM musical suddenly so popular? It's all part of a coordinated effort among left-leaning Brits to infuriate right-leaning Brits on the eve of the Iron Lady's funeral. The infuriation seems to be working. Though no lyrics were changed and it's sung by Judy Garland, who died in 1969 not knowing or caring about Margaret Thatcher, the BBC has refused to play anything more than a seven second snippet of the song until passions cool.

Unlike Janet Brown, Margaret Thatcher won't be forgotten anytime soon. Though her admirers may wish some people would forget about her.

In Memoriam: Jonathan Winters 1925-2013

Comedian. Actor. It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. The Russians are Coming, The Russians are Coming. Viva Max. Mork and Mindy.

 

 

“I don’t do jokes...The characters are my jokes.”

 

  

 

 Winters was a master of improvisation.

 

 

 

As a wagon master. 

 

 

As an airline pilot.

 

 

Winters destroys a gas station in It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963.) Also with Phil Silvers, Arnold Stang, and Marvin Kaplan.

 

Though he's not in the above scene. Milton Berle was also in It's a Mad...World (don't feel like writing it all out again.) He and Winters share a ride to the movie's premier:

 

 

Winter's most famous character was Maude Frickert. Here she is on The Dean Martin Show:

 

  

 

The Rat Pack-like humor in the above clip makes me think this was written by Dean's staff rather than Winters himself. Here's a more improvisational Maude Frickert. Even though Winters is out of costume, I find it much funnier:

 

 

Lastly, to bring it all up to date, Winters on Facebook:

 

 

 

 

In Memoriam: Carmine Infantino 1925-2013

Cartoonist. Longtime DC comics employee, first as an artist, then art director, editorial director, and finally publisher, he was a key figure in what came to be known as the Silver Age--1956 to, roughly, 1970, when superheroes, having falling out of popularity after World War II, came back into vogue--but he did fine work outside of that period, too. 

 "There are few people in this world that have had as much of an impact on the industry as Carmine. He bridged both the Golden and Silver Ages of comics, shepherding in some of the most successful periods in our history and setting the course of our characters that is still seen today. He will be greatly missed, but his legacy will remain forever."

 --DC Comics, Co-Publisher Dan DiDio

“Paul Anka’s wonderful line, ‘I did it my way.’ That sums it up for me pretty much.”

--Carmine Infantino

Infantino with a fan, girl power pop superhero (according to her website) Cookie-Cutter Girl.

 

Most of the art that follows was pencilled by Infantino and inked by others.

 

The fishnet stocking-clad crimefighter Black Canary was the first superhero, or rather, superheroine, created by Infantino, in 1947. If you read the comic's caption, you'll see she's described as a "fascinating crook." Just a ruse to fool the bad guys.

 

The revival of 1940's superhero The Flash is what sparked the Silver Age. The costume redesigned by Infantino (see below), he's the character the artist is most identified with.  

 

 

Silver Age Flash meets Golden Age Flash. And readers were introduced to Earth-Two, the DC alternative universe where all the 1940s superheroes all hung out.

Elongated Man was derivative of another superhero, Plastic Man. Then the company that owned DC bought the company that owned Plastic Man, and both superheroes ended up under the same roof, along with Jimmy Olsen, who occasionally moonlighted  as Elastic Lad (Mr. Fantastic might enjoy their company, but he works for someone else.)

 

Infantino also worked with these two fellows. The Batman comics had gotten kind of silly in the early '50s, very tongue-in-cheek, very campy. Once Infantino and DC editor Julian Schwartz took over, Batman became serious again. That is, until 1966, when the silliness returned, though this time in a  different medium...

 

 

 

I'm sure Adam West and Burt Ward were flattered.

 

 

As was Yvonne Craig.

 

 

 

The Atom saves the day! As long you don't mind him crawling up your leg to do so.

 

In 1976, Infantino left DC and became a freelance artist. Among the places he found work was with rival comic book publisher Marvel:

 

 

This version of Spider-Woman (there's been several) only lasted a few years. Marvel head honcho Stan Lee has admitted that the only reason the character was created was to secure a copyright (superpowers being no match for a room full of high-priced lawyers.)

 

Spider-Woman wasn't Infantino's first foray into Marvel territory. In fact, he once worked for DC and Marvel AT THE EXACT SAME TIME: 

   

 

Don't worry. After a brief skirmish, Spidey and the Man of Steel become friends. The Multiverse is big enough for both of them.