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.)
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
Experiment
Make it your motto day and night
Experiment
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
Experiment
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
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
inferences.""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
house."
"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.
On April 30, 1938, a cartoon hunter for the first time preyed on a cartoon rabbit. However, you'd be forgiven if you'd thought it was the other way around:
That rabbit sounds a bit like Woody Woodpecker, doesn't he? An ex-vaudeville comic by the name of Mel Blanc freelanced as a voice artist for various animation studios, one of which belonged toLeon Schlesinger, whose cartoons were distributed by Warner Brothers, and another of which belonged to Walter Lantz, whose cartoons was distributed by Universal. It was the latter studio that Woody debuted, and Blanc voiced the first three of the berserk bird's cartoons before signing an exclusive contract with Schlesinger. This meant that he got to play the rabbit again, but without the laugh, with was now legally the property of Lantz. Of course, that meant someone else at the Lantz studio would have the unenviable task of trying to mimic Blanc. More on that later.
The rabbit himself had gone through some changes by the time Blanc signed that contract:
Prest-O Change-O (1939) Directed by Chuck Jones. The rabbit gives a dog, rather than a hunter, a hard time in this one.
Hare-um Scare-um (1939) Ben Hardaway, who had directed (or "supervised") the rabbit the first time, came back for this one. The rabbit (now grey) torments a hunter, but not Porky (who was much too busy getting tormented by Daffy Duck in a series of similar cartoons.)
Elmer's Candid Camera (1940) Chuck Jones gets ano--HEY, I SAID ELMER, NOT ALLEN!
That's better. Elmer's Candid Camera (1940) Chuck Jones gets another crack at the character. Yes, this Elmer's last name is Fudd (and not Funt!), but he's not a hunter, just a hapless photographer.
The rabbit went unnamed on screen, but around the Schlesinger studio, he was informally referred to as "Bug's bunny". Bugs was the nickname of Hardaway, the rabbit's first director. Since this character seemed to have staying power, it was decided he needed an official onscreen name, something catchy and alliterative, and so the apostrophe was simply removed, and instead of a bunny that belonged to Bugs, Bugs was the bunny! Ironically, Hardaway would never again direct the rabbit. He was demoted to story man after Friz Freling rejoined Schlesinger's crew. So Hardaway went to work for Lantz. He was a story man there, too, but had an additional duty.
It seems Hardaway had a talent for voices as well. Well, at least one particular voice.
That's right. He replaced Mel Blanc for the rest of the 1940s (Lantz' own wife Grace eventually replaced him.)
Back at Schlesinger's, it fell upon Tex Avery, the first among directorial equals at the studio, to craft a new Bugs Bunny.
Visually, at least, Tex's take on the rabbit was no more definitive then the directors who came before him. It was Bug's personality, however, where he left his lasting mark. Bugs up that point had really just been, as Freling once referred to him, "Daffy Duck in a bunny outfit." Under Tex, Bugs went from being hyperactive to sly. He didn't wear out his opponent through sheer exhaustion, but outwitted him. Brains over brawn. Or, in the case of some many opponents starting with Elmer, brains over bumbling.
One additional element was to fall in place. As I said before, Blanc could no longer use the rabbit's original voice as that now belonged to Woody Woodpecker, so he had to come up with something else. Now seeing Bugs as a kind of streetwise character, he gave him a combination Brooklyn-Bronx accent, and left his lasting mark as well (but then he did that with a dozen or so other characters, too.)
On July 27, 1940,A Wild Hare premiered, today considered the first "official" Bugs Bunny cartoon. It's here that he says "What's Up, Doc?" for the very first time. However, as I've tried to show you, the rabbit was actually a work in progress, one that started a few years earlier. And continued to be a work in progress. Note that he's the same height as Elmer. He eventually would tower over him. I wouldn't be surprised if some animator somewhere is still tinkering with the basic design. Just be careful if you everhappen to cross paths with him. In whatever form, he's a little stinker.
