Saturday, July 22, 2017

Graphic Grandeur (The Road Not Taken Edition)

Yes, the signature on these strips reads Gus Edson, who took over The Gumps after Sidney Smith's death in 1935, but he had an assistant in the late 1940s who may have penciled or inked or lettered or do whatever comic strip assistants do. According to some sources, he even drew the whole strip on occasion.

Martin Landau 1920-2017
The assistant later caught the acting bug.

North by Northwest (1959) That's the back of Cary Grant's head.

From the same film, that's Landau's foot and Grant's hand (unless they're stunt doubles--you can never be sure.)

 Landau played master-of-disguise spy Rollin Hand on TV's Mission: Impossible for three seasons. That's his real-life then-wife Barbara Bain in the center.

 Landau and Bain also appeared together on the runaway moon TV science fiction series Space:1999.

Not generally considered a high point in Landau's career, but I just had to show it. The Harlem Globetrotters on Gilligan's Island, a 1981 made-for-TV movie in which he played a mad scientist, with Bain as his, I don't know, lab assistant, I guess. This would be the last time husband and wife performed together on screen. The two divorced in 1993. That's 12 years after this film debuted, so I really don't think it was the cause of the split.

Things turned around for Landau in 1988 when Francis Ford Coppola cast him as Abe Karatz, business associate of 1940s automobile designer Preston Tucker in Tucker: The Man and His Dreams, based on a true story. Landau was nominated for, but did not win, an Academy Award.

A clip. That's Jeff Bridges as Tucker.

In Woody Allen's Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989), Landau played Judah Rosenthal, a successful ophthalmologist who has his mistress just as successfully dispatched, and, for a while anyway, feels a tad guilty about it.  Landau was nominated for, but did not win, an Academy Award.


In this clip a conscience-stricken Judah relives a childhood memory. Man, listen to that family talk about the Holocaust and the nature of evil over dinner. I can't imagine what the conversation was like during dessert.

 As a down-on-his-luck Bela Lugosi in 1994's Ed Wood. Johnny Depp plays the title character, an independent film director who tries to engineer a comeback for the former horror star, and acquire a bit of fame for himself in the process (which he actually succeeded in doing, though both men were long dead when it finally happened.)

Lugosi's opinion of a fellow horror movie icon.

Makes up for not winning that Reuben.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Vital Viewing (Triple Threat Edition)

Actress/singer/dancer Ginger Rogers was born on this day in 1911.

The extremely talented Rogers first became a star on Broadway in the George and Ira Gershwin musical Girl Crazy, which means diddly-squat to those of us not living in New York City in 1930. Fortunately, a Hollywood contract--and posterity--soon followed.

However, at first her Hollywood stardom did not quite equal her Broadway stardom. For instance, she gets fifth billing in Gold Diggers of 1933, though I will admit the "and" makes her name stand out a bit. More significantly, she stars in the musical film's opening number.

"We're in the Money"--I have no idea why, but dig the way she switches over to pig Latin right toward the end.

Ogersray isay estbay owknay orfay erhay anymay ilmsfay--excuse me, I meant to say, Rogers is best known for the many films she co-starred with Fred Astaire in the 1930s (plus one final one in the late '40s) Though the pairing was and is justly celebrated, they weren't quite equals. Dancing was Astaire's main thing in the 1930s, and if that's all you're concerned with, you're probably better off seeing the man in a movie with Eleanor Powell or Cyd Charrise. Rogers, of course, could dance, too, but it's telling that she rarely gets a solo number. Does that mean we should regard Top Hat or Hold That Fleet as basically Fred Astaire films? Not if you're concerned about more than the dancing. Astaire's singing was OK, but he could barely act--at least not in the 1930s (he had gotten much much better at it by the time the nuclear war drama On the Beach was made in the late 1950s. He must have found the apocalypse inspiring.) Rogers could sing as well as Astaire, and could act circles around him--usually at just that moment he was dancing circles around her. And it's that dichotomy that made them click as a team.

And someone once said, she had to do everything he did, but backwards and in high heels.

A brunette Rogers went dramatic in 1940s Kitty Foyle...

...and won an Oscar.

As good as Rogers was in that, in my opinion her real forte was comedy. Here she is with a young David Niven in 1939's Bachelor Mother.

Let's jump ahead to the 1970s, when a still-vibrant Rogers tripped the light fantastic with none other than Johnny Carson (poor Ed never got the chance to cut in.)

Ginger Rogers died in 1995, but her films endure. Good thing Hollywood called.


Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Graphic Grandeur (Technology Edition)

Cartoonist Rube Goldberg was born on this day in 1883. During his long life, Goldberg drew comic strips, funny postcards, and political cartoons, but is best know these days, and in fact was best known in those days, for a series of cartoon inventions in which a simple end was accomplished through an unjustifiable means. Most of these fanciful machines appeared in a once-popular now-defunct general interest magazine called Collier's under the title The Inventions of Professor Lucifer Gorgonzola Butts in the late 1920s and early 1930s, but Goldberg seems to have done similar-type strips (including some of the aforementioned political cartoons) both before and after that time frame, though minus the Butts name. Actually, it was the cartoonists own name that we now associate with such devices. I'm sure somewhere or other you've come across the term "Rube Goldberg machine", but perhaps didn't know what it meant. Well, here's some examples:

If you squint (sorry, but part of the cartoon is cut off if I try to make it any larger) you might see the names Marcantonio and Faye Emerson, two people well-known in their day but largely forgotten about now. Vito Marcantonio was a liberal Republican (you read that right) congressman back in the 1930s. His New York City district was the same district that propelled Fiorello La Guardia, another liberal Republican, into the mayoral office. Marcantonio seems to have been to the left of La Guardia as he quit the Republican Party and joined  the socialist-leaning American Labor Party as the '30s gave way to the '40s. His constituents didn't seem to mind this walk on the radical side, as he served in Congress another ten years. Goldberg, a Republican but not a liberal, did seem to mind, as I can't can't think of any other reason the cartoonist would have placed him behind the Japanese emperor. As to why the latter is in a baseball uniform, it probably has something to do with the his country being under U.S. occupation, and thus undergoing a process of "Americanization". Faye Emerson was a movie and early TV actress who got as much attention for her personal life as for any film or series that she starred in. Emerson's second husband was Elliot Roosevelt, son of  President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Her inclusion in this cartoon, however, may not have been a political jab as she had divorced the New Dealer's son by the time this appeared. She was one of TV's first sex symbols and known for wearing low-cut gowns, most likely the object of the photographers attention. 

Skitch Henderson was an up-and-coming TV band leader when he married Miss Emerson.  He later on conducted the Tonight Show Orchestra for Steve Allen, Jack Parr, and, until he was replaced by Doc Severnson, Johnny Carson.

Gorgeous George was an early TV wrestling star known for his humorously flamboyant preening. Like a lot of ex-presidents, Hoover spent his retirement (which lasted some 35 years) making speeches.

Born on the Fourth of July, Goldberg was an American original who got one of the highest accolades that can be bestowed on an American original: his own postage stamp in 1995. Of course, you have to be deceased to get that particular accolade. Fortunately, there were a few others that came Goldberg's way while he was still around to bask in the glory.

The above won Goldberg the 1948 Pulitzer Prize for Editorial Cartooning 

Goldberg was the first president on the National Cartoonist Society, and in 1954, the award given out by the society--sort of like an Oscar or Emmy--was renamed the Reuben (what "Rube" is short for.) That's Goldberg on the left  handing the Rueben to Peanuts creator Charles M. Schulz in 1955. Goldberg himself won the award in 1967, but I can't find any photos of that, so you'll just have to settle for this one of him and Sparky.

Rube Goldberg died in 1970. He spent his childhood in the horse-and-buggy era and lived long enough to see a man walk on the moon. No wonder he was so obsessed by technology.

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Quips and Quotations (Stonewall Anniversary Edition)

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

--Emma Lazarus

Saturday, June 10, 2017

Archival Revival (Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel Edition)

 Adam West 1928-2017
I did a post about the 1960s Batman TV series a few years ago. I obviously devoted much of it to Mr. West. Here's what I said: 

As I said before, the rap against the TV show is that it didn't take the main character seriously enough. Maybe the show didn't, but West certainly did. Or, rather, Batman, as interpreted by West, did. Subsequent Batmans--Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer, George Clooney, and Christopher Bale all feel the need to growl their way through the role, partly, I think, to differentiate themselves from West (so much so they forget to differentiate themselves from each other.) I just don't know that any of them have taken the character as seriously, or played the character taking himself as seriously, as West, even as they appeared in more serious-minded vehicles

In his autobiography, West writes the producers wanted him to be more like Burt Ward and shout his lines. However, he convinced them that a more subtle approach would provide a better, and funnier, contrast to all the theatrical histrionics whirling about him, and so it did. Other than Alfred the butler, his was the most soft-spoken character in the whole series, a Batman who seemed to carefully measure every platitude to come out of his mouth, who put so much thought in his banal expressions, who gave so much consideration to his trite meanderings. He seemed almost transfixed by the hoary cliches that governed his life, to the point where he'd turn away from the crook he had just beaten to a pulp, and deliver some simplistic soliloquy, Hamlet of hokum that he was.

Pointy-headed intellectuals will try and tell you that the superhero concept is inherently fascist. Not West's superhero. No sir. The fascist leader is one who derives glory and power from the admiring, fearful masses hopelessly caught under his sway. That in no way describes out humble hero. Heck, in one episode the Riddler slips a mickey in Batman's drink, leaving him disoriented. A Gotham City cop (one earning his pay for a change) forbids the Caped Crusader from getting behind the wheel of the Batmobile, telling him he's in no condition to drive. Batman woozily replies, "Yes! Yes! Of course!" Now, I ask you, would Mussolini be so accommodating? I think not!

No, West's Batman was out for neither glory nor power. He merely wanted to do good, and it saddened him that so many others failed to see Good as the Greatest Good. It was never personal. Oh, he might raise his voice (sometimes a whole octave) and call a villain "dastardly" during a moment of stress, followed by an immediate apology to Robin for setting such a bad example, but once his foes were defeated all the anger just melted away, and he had nothing but pity for them. A gun moll once tried to seduce him, to which he ponderously replied, "You poor, deluded child." That's how Batman regarded his many enemies, as children that had lost their way, lambs that had strayed from the flock. He yearned for the day when the scales would fall from the Joker's or the Penguin's or the Riddler's eyes, so that they would see the errors of their ways, get 9-to-5 jobs, keep their lawns trimmed, coach Little League, and otherwise rejoin the Gotham Family of Man. In many ways, West's Batman was a Christ figure, albeit one with a utility belt that could have gotten him off any cross.

Adam West played the character with such conviction, such earnestness, the suspicion has arisen that he never figured out it was all just for laughs. He refutes this in his autobiography and in the many interviews he's given, asserting yes, he knew it was a comedy, and I, for one, believe him!

I kind of believe him. I sort of believe him. I 96% believe him...95%.

For all you Adam West haters out there who remain unconvinced by what I've just said, who believe that by taking Batman too seriously he allowed Batman not to be taken seriously at all, what would you have preferred? A Batman that didn't take himself seriously? A costumed comedian uttering an endless stream of one-liners while engaged in battle with a deadly foe?

(Come to think of it, that's Spider-Man, and people do take him seriously.)

Take the following any way you want:


Friday, June 9, 2017

Quips and Quotations (Commencement Speech Edition)

Before you leave these portals
To meet less fortunate mortals
There's just one final message I would give to you
You all have learned reliance
On the sacred teachings of science
So I hope, through life, you never will decline
In spite of philistine defiance
To do what all good scientists do
Make it your motto day and night
And it will lead you to the light
The apple on the top of the tree
Is never too high to achieve
So take an example from Eve
Be curious
Though interfering friends may frown
Get furious
At each attempt to hold you down
If this advice you always employ
The future can offer you infinite joy
And merriment
Experiment and you'll see

--Cole Porter

Monday, May 22, 2017

Baker Street Irregulars

Writer Arthur Conan Doyle was born on this day in 1859. He's best know for creating this guy...

...Sherlock Holmes.

Holmes appeared in four novels, the best known of which is the third, The Hounds of the Baskervilles, and fifty-some short stories, where with the assistance of sidekick/first-person narrator Dr. John H. Watson he investigated and solved numerous crimes in late 19th-early 20th century London and thereabouts. So impressive was Holmes powers of observation that he could deduce a complete stranger's personality, occupation, biography, love life, etc., by a simple examination of a single article of clothing. Take this example from "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle". Some poor fellow was mugged of a goose he was bringing home to dinner, and, if that wasn't bad enough, he also lost his hat:

 "On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, however,
     to reason from what you see. You are too timid in drawing your

     "Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer from this hat?"

     He picked it up and gazed at it in the peculiar introspective fashion
     which was characteristic of him. "It is perhaps less suggestive than
     it might have been," he remarked, "and yet there are a few inferences
     which are very distinct, and a few others which represent at least a
     strong balance of probability. That the man was highly intellectual
     is of course obvious upon the face of it, and also that he was fairly
     well-to-do within the last three years, although he has now fallen
     upon evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly,
     pointing to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline
     of his fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably
     drink, at work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact
     that his wife has ceased to love him."

     "My dear Holmes!"

     "He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect," he
     continued, disregarding my remonstrance. "He is a man who leads a
     sedentary life, goes out little, is out of training entirely, is
     middle-aged, has grizzled hair which he has had cut within the last
     few days, and which he anoints with lime-cream. These are the more
     patent facts which are to be deduced from his hat. Also, by the way,
     that it is extremely improbable that he has gas laid on in his

     "You are certainly joking, Holmes."

     "Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, when I give you
     these results, you are unable to see how they are attained?"

     "I have no doubt that I am very stupid, but I must confess that I am
     unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce that this man
     was intellectual?"

     For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right over
     the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. "It is a
     question of cubic capacity," said he; "a man with so large a brain
     must have something in it."

     "The decline of his fortunes, then?"

     "This hat is three years old. These flat brims curled at the edge
     came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band
     of ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this man could afford to
     buy so expensive a hat three years ago, and has had no hat since,
     then he has assuredly gone down in the world."

     "Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But how about the foresight
     and the moral retrogression?"

     Sherlock Holmes laughed. "Here is the foresight," said he putting his
     finger upon the little disc and loop of the hat-securer.  "They are
     never sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a sign of a
     certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his way to take
     this precaution against the wind. But since we see that he has broken
     the elastic and has not troubled to replace it, it is obvious that he
     has less foresight now than formerly, which is a distinct proof of a
     weakening nature. On the other hand, he has endeavoured to conceal
     some of these stains upon the felt by daubing them with ink, which is
     a sign that he has not entirely lost his self-respect."

     "Your reasoning is certainly plausible."

     "The further points, that he is middle-aged, that his hair is
     grizzled, that it has been recently cut, and that he uses lime-cream,
     are all to be gathered from a close examination of the lower part of
     the lining. The lens discloses a large number of hair-ends, clean cut
     by the scissors of the barber. They all appear to be adhesive, and
     there is a distinct odour of lime-cream. This dust, you will observe,
     is not the gritty, grey dust of the street but the fluffy brown dust
     of the house, showing that it has been hung up indoors most of the
     time, while the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof positive
     that the wearer perspired very freely, and could therefore, hardly be
     in the best of training."

     "But his wife--you said that she had ceased to love him."

     "This hat has not been brushed for weeks. When I see you, my dear
     Watson, with a week's accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when
     your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear that you
     also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's affection."

     "But he might be a bachelor."

     "Nay, he was bringing home the goose as a peace-offering to his wife.
     Remember the card upon the bird's leg."

     "You have an answer to everything. But how on earth do you deduce
     that the gas is not laid on in his house?"

     "One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance; but when I see
     no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt that the
     individual must be brought into frequent contact with burning
     tallow--walks upstairs at night probably with his hat in one hand and
     a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never got tallow-stains
     from a gas-jet. Are you satisfied?"

And to think, Holmes deduced all that without the aid of Google!

The popularity of these stories did not go unnoticed by the generation or so of mystery writers that came after Doyle, as there was a whole parade of eccentric sleuths in the first half of the 20th century. Hercules Poirot, Miss Marple, Nero Wolfe, Charlie Chan, Father Brown, and Lord Peter Wimsey all owe a little something to Holmes. The actual mystery itself (as well as its solution) may have been completely forgotten by the reader about fifteen minutes after they'd finish the story, but the person who solved the mystery lingered on in the memory. No more so than Holmes, who has also lingered on in pop culture.

If you haven't read any of Doyle's stories, and you really should as they're quite good, you may know Holmes and Watson through these two fellows:

Basil Rathbone as Holmes (left) and Nigel Bruce (right) as Watson. They appeared in a  couple of movies for 20th Century Fox, and then a dozen more for Universal Studios. You're better off with the two Fox movies The Hound of the Baskervilles and The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, both from 1939. Both were classy mysteries with just enough fog and shadows to give one a real sense of 19th century London (OK, re-reading that sentence, it occurs to me that London during ANY time period probably had it share of fog and shadows, but those two aspects play so much better when you know Queen Victoria is sitting on the throne.) The Universal offerings? These sometimes cheesy films, unnecessarily in my view, updated the Holmes tales to the 1940s. In at least one of them, Professor Moriarity is in cahoots with the Nazis! Still, it's fun watching Rathbone and Bruce play off each other.

Perhaps I'm being too hard on the Universal films. A popular British TV import (meaning it's on PBS) has Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch) and Watson (Martin Freeman) solving crimes in the 21st century. What's interesting is that while 100 years or so separates this series from the original stories and only 50 years or so separates the Universal films, the Cumberbatch version is actually much more faithful to Doyle.

Perhaps the oddest version of Doyle's creation to date. Jonny Lee Miller plays a somewhat surly Sherlock Holmes and Lucy Liu is Dr Joan Watson (figure out for yourself which is which) Elementary, produced for American network television (perhaps that explains the oddness) has Holmes as a British emigre solving crimes (very grisly crimes in the episodes I've seen--less "The Red-Headed League" and more Silence of the Lambs) in New York City. Watson is there to make sure he doesn't slip back into his old cocaine habit (actually a feature of the original stories, believe it on not, though this new version treats the whole subject of addiction more thoroughly than Doyle, who portrayed it more as an eccentricity.) While I'm not quite a fan of this series, I do watch it whenever I come across it channel surfing.  Miller makes a fun, if a not always mature, Holmes.

Though we may think of Doyle as a 19th century writer, he was still alive by the time sound came to movies:

Doyle may not be the most animated speaker in the world, but I think his ample wit, so essential to the Holmes stories, comes through in that clip. One surprise--he calls Watson "stupid". In the stories themselves, the good doctor never strikes me as stupid. He's just not the obsessive-verging-on-anal retentive that his friend seems to be. The prose Watson, that is. However, once Universal Studios got their hooks into the former army doctor, he was transformed into a doddering old fool who could barely follow Miss Hudson the housekeeper's train of thought, much less Holmes. Actors other than Bruce never played Watson that way. If fact, Bruce himself didn't play him that way in his first two outings as the character. Yet, according to Doyle, I guess maybe that's the way he should have been played all along. Who knew, other than Bruce and Universal?

If you watched the whole clip, Doyle talks quite a bit about his investigations into psychic phenomenon. This is what he really wished to be known for, not Sherlock Holmes. Indeed, he tried killing of Holmes only to resurrect him after the public outcry (as well as having lots of money thrown at him.) I don't want to debate what's true or what's not true when it comes to the paranormal, only to point out that Doyle was willing to believe in just about anything. He was a Mulder badly in need of a Scully, especially after the pictures below surfaced right after World War I:

Photographic evidence of the existence of fairies. Aw, aren't they cute? Doyle didn't take these pictures, but he championed them, and went to his grave (in 1930) believing in their eventual validation, and that his publicizing of the pictures would be his lasting legacy.

The photos were never validated, and Doyle's lasting legacy seems to be Sherlock Holmes, after all. A much better outcome, in my view.

Don't you agree, Watson?