Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Good Day

In 2016 I decided to stop posting on this blog.  But it didn't take.  I started up again and soon was back at my same pace.

But I think today, on my birthday, I will finally stop the daily posts.  And this time I'm pretty sure it'll stick.  This is not due to any particular event--I've been planning this birthday surprise since last year.

This is not to say I will never post again.  But if I do it will be when I have something to say (now there's a change) or, at least, when the spirit moves me. This blog does have a decent number of followers, so I'm sorry if this is unpleasant news, but it's time.

Thanks for all the views and the comments.  Perhaps we'll talk again some day.

And since I share this birthday with Duke Ellington, let's go out with a song.


Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Leeward

Today is the birthday of Harper Lee.  For a famous writer she had an odd career.

She published To Kill A Mockingbird in 1960.  A huge success, it won the Pulitzer Prize and was made into a highly popular film.  Then she stopped writing.  I guess that book brought in enough of an income that she didn't need to write more. Instead, she went out and helped childhood friends Truman in his research for In Cold Blood.

To Kill A Mockingbird had autobiographical touches, with characters partly based on Lee, Capote and Lee's father.  Then, in 2014, an old manuscript of Lee's was found, Go Set A Watchman.  Though it was published as a sequel to To Kill A Mockingbird, it's really more an early draft of that work, and to many seemed more a money grab than anything else.

The novel--with politics not quite as progressive as Mockingbird--sold quite well, of course (how could it not?), but disappointed many readers.  One wonders if Lee truly wanted her book out, after years of refusing to write more. I assume, whatever reputation Mockingbird has in the future, it won't be tarnished by the questionable second novel.

Monday, April 27, 2020

Dashing Fellow

Today is the birthday of Samuel Morse, inventor of Morse Code.  In the age of the telegraph, he was able to take all the letters and numbers and turn them into dots and dashes (or dits and dahs).

Here's the chart:

Receiving the information from a telegrapher, the dashes take three times longer that the dots.  Also there's a wait between letters and a longer wait between words.

The most commonly used letters are generally the shortest in duration.  E is simply one dot.  I is two.  A is a dot and a dash.  S is three dots.  O seems a bit long at three dashes, but it does make for the famous SOS--dot dot dot dash dash dash dot dot dot.

I doubt too many people know this stuff any more, but to former generations many knew it the same way a blind person might know braille.

Sunday, April 26, 2020

People Call Him Maurice

Maurice Williams, of Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs, was born on this day in 1938.  He was in the Galdiolas when they recorded the original version of "Little Darlin'."



The band changed their name (actually, they had several names) to the Zodiacs and had their hit, "Stay." The title is somewhat ironic, since at 1:36 it's the shortest #1 song of all.


Saturday, April 25, 2020

AP

Al Pacino turns 80 today.

He's one of the premiere actors of our age.  He got a lot of attention for his dynamic stage work in the 1960s, and then burst full-blown as a major film star in the 1970s.  But unlike some other stars, he's regularly gone back to the stage throughout his career, playing all sorts of roles from Shakespeare to O'Neill to Mamet.

The early 70s was a time of exploration in American cinema, and also a time when men who weren't Hollywood handsome (Dustin Hoffman, Gene Hackman, etc.) became stars.  Pacino got some notice for his starring role in The Panic In Needle Park (1971) and then became a major name with his leading role (yes, it's the lead) in The Godfather (1972), even though the studio had not been thrilled the part was played by an unknown. Pacino held the movie together, got stellar reviews and was nominated for an Oscar.

Now he could pick his roles and did movies such as Serpico, The Godfather: Part II and Dog Day Afternoon, each time receiving an Oscar nomination.  When the 80s rolled around many thought he picked worse parts, though there were films like Scarface (not well-respected in its day but considered a classic by many now) and Sea Of Love.

In 1990 he showed his comic side as Big Boy Caprice in Dick Tracy.  And he finally won an Oscar for 1992's Scent Of A Woman (though some felt it was an award for his entire career). Other major titles of the decade include Glengarry Glenn Ross, Carlito's Way, Heat, Donnie Brasco and The Insider.

While he's continued to create fine work in movies and on TV in the 21st century, sometimes you feel he's doing it for the money.  In fact, since Scent Of A Woman, his only Oscar-nominated role came last year in his first film with Martin Scorsese, The Irishman, where he played Jimmy Hoffa.

Living in L.A., I've actually seen Pacino a couple times, both after a screening of his work.  He's directed some small films that did not get wide release, and at Cinefamily I saw a double bill of Chinese Coffee (2000) and Salome (2013).  He came out afterwards to discuss how and why he made them.  Another time there was a showing of The Panic In Needle Park at the New Beverly and he was a surprise guest, discussing his early days in film.

I think actors (and writers and directors) should be judged by their best work.  And if that's done for Pacino, there aren't too many who can top him.

Friday, April 24, 2020

Throwing Shade

Guess what.  It's Arbor Day.  Let's celebrate by hanging around the computer and looking at photos of trees.

 
 
 

Thursday, April 23, 2020

Big Bill

On this day, in 1564, was born the greatest writer in the English language, William Shakespeare.  The Bard of Avon wrote 39 plays (more or less) as well as a bunch of sonnets and two long narrative poems.  He was also an actor and helped run a theatre company.  And he did just about all of it in a 25 year period.

It's hard to explain the genius of Shakespeare.  In fact, some throw up their hands and say it must have been somebody else, though I'm not sure how that helps us much.  I guess somebody's got to be the best, and he was the guy.  Not that everyone recognized it when he was alive--he was popular, but not without his critics.  And he followed his own rules when it came to what was stageworthy.

A few other facts:

--He married an older woman, Anne Hathaway, who was pregnant when they tied the knot.

--Almost nothing is known of what he did during his early adult years.

--He spelled his name different ways during his life, though never, apparently, "Shakespeare."

--It's claimed he introduced about 3000 words into the English language.

--His shortest play is The Comedy Of Errors, his longest, Hamlet.

--Some believe his name is intentionally hidden in the 46th Psalm in the King James Bible.

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

Spelled With A "K"

Today is the birthday of perhaps the most influential philosopher of the modern era, Immanuel Kant, born in 1724.  I remember reading his Critique Of Pure Reason, but I don't remember understanding it.

Some philosophers, even German ones--for instance, Nietzsche--can be fun to read, but Kant is full of jargon and can be grueling. (Of course, I'm reading him in translation.  Perhaps he's even harder in his own tongue.)

Kant is famous for a lot of stuff (at least to other philosophers) and I'm not the one to summarize it well.  He certainly wrote a lot about morality and how it comes from reason.  But let's just talk about one of his well-known concepts, the Categorical Imperative.

The CI is often explained that you should act in such a way that you would be satisfied if everyone acted this way.  It's an interesting idea, but I'm not sure if it works in practice or in theory.  But then, you don't have to agree with Kant.  You just have to try to understand him (if you're taking a philosophy class) and take it from there.

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Got The Shot

Edwin S. Porter was born 150 years ago today.  If you're into film you likely know his name, but otherwise, little chance. He was one of the true innovators in the early days of motion pictures.

He worked at movie production at the Edison studio starting in the 1890s.  He made over 250 films, helping to create basic film grammar.  His two most significant titles are probably Life Of An American Fireman and The Great Train Robbery, both released in 1903.

Many films of the time were short and made up of one shot.  Porter's Fireman told a story in seven different scenes and nine shots.  It's about a fireman saving a woman and child from a burning building.  The action cuts from the outside to the inside--something that film could do in way that, say, the stage couldn't.

The Great Train Robbery was an even bigger leap.  Just having a fictional action film (not to mention a Western--in the wilds of New Jersey) was fairly new--it must have knocked out the audience.  And the 12 minute film (if played at the proper frame speed) introduced or popularized a lot of new techniques.  For instance, the movie features cross-cutting--moving back and forth between two separate areas where the story is unfolding simultaneously.

The film's budget was reportedly $150.  Was anyone paid?  In any case, it was a massive success.  And guess what?  We still see the same sort of movies made today, though the budgets are a bit bigger.

Monday, April 20, 2020

On The House

Nancy Meyers started as a screenwriter.  With partner Charles Shyer, she wrote hits like Private Benjamin and Father Of The Bride.  She eventually moved on to directing (usually her own scripts) and has been quite successful.  With the audience, anyway, if not the critics.

They're generally not films for me.  I'm not opposed to any genre per se, but her romantic comedies could best be described as chick flicks.  But while I can understand the box office for Something's Gotta Give and It's Complicated, even if I didn't particularly like them, it's hard to understand the success (if muted compared to her other hits) of The Holiday.  I just watched it all the way through for the first time, and it was everything I feared.

It's actually two separate stories that barely meet.  Two women (Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet), disappointed in love, need to get away.  They meet on the internet and decide to switch houses for a while.  And what do you think happens?  They both find the right guy (Jude Law and Jack Black).  How nice.

The romance is fairly generic (as is the title), but it could work if done with wit and verve. And maybe a different cast--the leading four are all capable, but they don't seem to have much chemistry.  The film would like to be a classic romantic comedy--half the characters work in movies and The Holiday constantly brings up old Hollywood--but it ends up being more like one of those hundreds of old films that no one cares about any more.

Then there's the pacing.  Meyers generally takes her time, and that can be fine in bringing out characters' relationships, but there's no excuse for this film to be 135 minutes.  The same story could have been told between 90 and 100 minutes--you know, like the classic comedies it refers to.

But you can see what Meyers is offering, and a lot of people were buying.  Not just two female-centered romances, but the production design. In particular, the two houses. Winslet's house is a charming English countryside cottage.  Diaz's house is a modern L.A. mansion.  When the audience isn't dreaming of finding their true love, they're gazing longingly at the interior design.

I enjoy looking at nice houses.  But not for 2 hours and 15 minutes.

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Not Forgotten

Some birthdays to consider today.

Frank Fontaine was born a century ago today.  He was an actor best known for playing Crazy Guggenheim, especially on The Jackie Gleason Show.  Gleason played Joe the Bartender, serving Guggenheim, who told weird stories in his bizarre voice, and generally sang a song at the end. He helped teach a whole generation that alcoholism can be amusing.

Then there's Dick Sargent, born 90 years ago today.  He appeared in over 100 TV shows and movies, but is best known for playing Darrin Stephens on Bewitched.  But he wasn't the first Darrin--that was Dick York, who left the show after 5 seasons.  It was never explained how Samantha's husband looked different, but she is a witch, so who knows.

It's been noted before that the two Darrins were both Dicks and, in backwards order, their surnames are Sargent York.

Then there's Dudley Moore, born 85 years ago.  He was a major star, and actually had two careers.  He was first known for his groundbreaking work in sketch comedy with Beyond The Fringe.  The show set off the satire boom in England and the quartet are still admired to this day.

Moore continued to work with his Fringe partner Peter Cook in movies, TV and live shows.  And then, Moore became an unexpected movie star.  He got some attention for his supporting work in the 1978 comedy Foul Play.  He was not the first choice to star in 10 (1979), but when George Segal walked off, Dudley got the part in a classic comedy that everyone was talking about.

As if to prove it wasn't a fluke, Moore starred in an even bigger hit, Arthur, in 1981.  He continued playing leads, mostly in romantic comedies, for the rest of the 1980s, with diminishing returns at the box office.  Nevertheless, he did have his moment.

Saturday, April 18, 2020

RM

Today is the birthday of Rick Moranis.  Whatever happened to him?






Friday, April 17, 2020

Blurb Curb

I just read Alan Dale's look at slapstick, Comedy Is A Man In Trouble, published twenty years ago.  Slapstick can be hard to write about--it's very visual and not easy to capture in words, which is why many critics try to raise it by noting its relation to "higher" things like satire or pathos.  Dale will have none of it, and good for him.

Slapstick doesn't need any excuses.  It makes us laugh and does it by telling us something about ourselves.  And the true masters have done amazing and varied things with the form.  But I was also surprised by the short description on the book on the back cover, which includes:

Comedy Is A Man In Trouble presents a lively look at a form of comedy that has its origins in ancient Greece and in American Vaudeville and has been expanded and refashioned by everyone from W. C. Fields and Marion Davies to Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant.

Did the person who wrote this even read the book?  The book only mentions Fields and Grant in passing, while Davies gets a couple pages and Hepburn gets a few more (in Dale's chapter on women in slapstick).

In fact, Dale discusses only a handful of names at length (and apologizes for it in his intro).  There's a chapter on Chaplin, one on Lloyd and Keaton, one on the Marx Brothers, one on Preston Sturges and one on Jerry Lewis.  Indeed, to write a blurb, you don't even need to read the book, just the table of contents.  Comedy Is A Man In Trouble is published by the University of Minnesota Press.  I expect higher standards.

Thursday, April 16, 2020

Trouble In Tahiti

I recently watched the 1962 version of Mutiny On The Bounty.  The 1935 version, while I don't consider it a classic (it certainly doesn't compare to other films of that year like Top Hat and A Night At The Opera), is pretty good.  Starring King of Hollywood Clark Gable as well as Charles Laughton and Franchot Tone (all of whom were nominated for Best Actor), it was the biggest hit of the year and winner of the Best Picture Oscar.  So it's understandable that MGM would try again.  But what they got was an epic flop that almost destroyed the studio.

They hired one of Hollywood's biggest stars, Marlon Brando, in the Gable role.  What they didn't know was that Brando had peaked.  He made one fine film after another in the 50s, many of which were hits, but he didn't have a single film go into profit in the 60s. (He would, of course, make a comeback in The Godfather (1972).)

But also, Brando wasn't going to play the virile leading man that Gable had.  Instead--and no one had the power to stop him--he plays 1st Lieutenant Fletcher Christian as a fop.  It's fascinating to watch, but doesn't really work.  His character doesn't seem to relate to anyone else on screen.  So instead of being the clear opposition to cruel Captain Bligh, he just seems to be there, finally taking over the ship somewhere around the time the first film was already over. (The first one was 132 minutes, the second 178 minutes).

It's too late to save the film at this point, but it gets worse.  Captain Bligh manages to get home and be acquitted in his trial, but dressed down nevertheless.  And that's that, nothing comes of it (as opposed to the 1935 movie).  Meanwhile, Christian and his mutineers find an island and he decides to return to explain his side of the story.  This is insane, and his mutineers light up the ship--Christian dies trying to save it.

Trevor Howard as Bligh makes the biggest impression, as any decent actor in the role would.  Richard Harris in the equivalent of Franchot Tone's role (sort of) hardly gets enough of the story for us to care about him.  Still, there's some nice scenery, and certainly plenty of stuff for nautical fans.  And it's always fun to watch Brando, even when he's poorly cast or making odd decisions.

Mind you, the film grossed a fair amount, it just went so over budget it couldn't show a profit.  All of Brando's shenanigans hurt his reputation in Hollywood, but he loved making the film.  Not the acting, but the trip to Tahiti.  He loved the place and the people, and bought an island (or several) there.

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Renaissance Man

Leonardo da Vinci was born on this day in 1452.  Until not too long ago, he was by far the most famous Leonardo around.

He was an all-around guy--probably the top of all time.  Everything seems to have interested him and he was good at anything he tried.  Math, anatomy, optics, really science in general.  And one of the most famous images in the world is his Vitruvian Man.


Note he wrote backwards so his stuff could be read in the mirror.  What a cut-up.

And then he was a great artist/sculptor.  In fact, if you named the five most famous paintings ever, I think he's got two. The Mona Lisa's gotta be #1 and The Last Supper can't be too far behind.  While we're at it, his Salvator Mundi sold for $450 million a few years back, a world record.

What's she smiling about?


Why they all sitting on one side of the table?

Tuesday, April 14, 2020

Hobson's Choice

John Gielgud was born in 1904 on this day.  He became one of the Big Three of British theatre of the mid-20th century, along with Laurence Olivier and Ralph Richardson.

Olivier is probably better known because he had the matinee idol looks and made it big in movies. Gielgud did plenty of movies, as well as TV, but was never exactly a movie star.  However, he did get a supporting role late in his career, as the valet Hobson in Arthur (1981), that won him an Oscar and made him more famous than ever.  He gets a lot of great lines--one is so famous people don't even think it's a joke any more: "I'll alert the media."

But before then, he spent decades on the stage, playing both classic and modern roles. He came from an acting family and was interested in the theatre at an early age.  As a young man, playing small roles, people noticed his distinctive, lovely voice.  That's the sort of thing that gets you far in the theatre, and by his early 20s he was playing leads.

He did notable parts in contemporary plays, but made his mark first with Chekhov, Ibsen and, of course, Shakespeare.  In 1930, he played Hamlet for the first time.  He'd play it again over the years, and came to be considered the best Hamlet of his generation. (In general it was felt he could speak verse better than any other actor around.)

Another role he became associated with was John Worthing in The Importance Of Being Earnest.  His production played in England and America, and was thought to be the greatest Earnest of the 20th century. (I remember in college listening to a recording of the production--wish I could have seen it.)

He became noted for other Shakespearean roles, such as Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing and Prospero in The Tempest as well as King Lear and Richard II.  Then there was the notable production of Romeo And Juliet where he and Olivier switched off the roles of Romeo and Mercutio.  These are just small samplings and the many roles he played, of course.

He also directed.  For instance, there was the celebrated Richard Burton Hamlet.  And, in later years, Gielgud took chances and worked on contemporary pieces, starring in, for instance, Albee's Tiny Alice and Pinter's No Man's Land, which he did with Richardson. (He and Richardson appeared on an episode of SCTV, though, according to Dave Thomas, they were hard to work with and didn't want to do the material they were given.)

He must have been amused (I hope, anyway) in his later years at how Hobson became his most famous role.  He didn't even want to do it at first, since it had so many nasty lines.  It also wasn't the most challenging role, but he knocked it out of the park and deserved all the awards (which he didn't care about--he didn't even show up at the Oscars). But he's so much more than Hobson.

Monday, April 13, 2020

Pushing The Pieces

Gary Kasparov turns 57 today.  He was the top chess player in the world in his day, and judged by many to be the greatest of all time.

I love watching great chess games on YouTube.  Such a specific domain, with specific rules, that means nothing in the outside world, but tests the human brain to the utmost.  And listening to people analyze these games has given me a much greater appreciation for what is involved.

Not that I'm a good player. In fact, I'm really bad.  Forget the kind of preparation and analysis necessary to play at top levels, that's well beyond me.  My problem is I literally can't see one move ahead.  I walk into traps all the time. No, not traps--I simply put my pieces where they can be captured immediately.

Kasparov played a lot of classic games, but here's my favorite. Amazing.


Sunday, April 12, 2020

Here's The Rub

There have been quite a few Hamlet's on film, but the most famous is almost certainly Laurence Olivier's 1948 version.  He didn't just star in it, he directed it, produced it and wrote it (adapted from Shakespeare's play, of course).  It was highly regarded, and won Olivier an Oscar for his acting as well as one for Best Picture.

I watched it recently.  It's pretty boring.  It's gloomy, which makes sense considering the story, but it's never very exciting.  And while Shakespeare's lines are beautiful poetry, the film can't quite turn them into an engaging drama.  Many of the actors are actually a bit stiff, and few deliver the iambs as much beyond poetry.

Felix Aylmer as Polonius is pretty good, and Stanley Holloway makes an interesting appearance as the gravedigger, but most of the supporting cast doesn't particularly stand out.  Of course, it's Olivier's show all the way.  And while he can command the screen, his Hamlet doesn't seem to capture either the high drama or even the comedy of the role.

It's also a somewhat simplistic take on the play.  Olivier announces as the beginning it's about a man who can't make up his mind. Is that really it?  Plus there's all the Freudian stuff Olivier liked.  And I miss Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who are cut entirely.

Of course, I have trouble with much Shakespeare on screen.  Compared to the abstraction of theatre, film tends to be a more realistic medium. (Imagine a move where a house is represented by painted flats.) In such a medium, the artificial speech, as beautiful as it is, puts a distance between the audience and the story.  On the other hand, Olivier's other major Shakespeare films, Henry V and Richard III, are better, so maybe it's this specific take.

But what do I know?  It won all those Oscars.

Saturday, April 11, 2020

Big Shot

One of the greatest novelty bands was the Hoosier Hot Shots.  Their instrumentation was different--a bass, a guitar, a clarinet and a washboard with numerous noisemakers attached.  That last instrument was played by Hezzie Trietsch, who was born 115 years ago today.





Friday, April 10, 2020

How Deep Is Cary Grant

I just watched Destination Tokyo. It's one of the few Cary Grant films I hadn't seen from beginning to end.  Perhaps that's because it's a war film--Grant could do a lot, but his specialty was comedies and thrillers.

The story of a submarine mission to Japan, it was a big hit in 1943.  Makes sense--a big Warner Brothers production headlined by a major star.  But it doesn't hold up that well (or should I say it doesn't hold water?).  Not because of the nasty anti-Japanese stuff, which is to be expected for the times.  The problem is the two-hour-plus film is pretty elemental.  The men go on a mission, and, in-between (excruciating) comic relief (not performed by Grant) and propaganda, they get shot at, defuse bombs, torpedo ships, deal with depth charges, perform an appendectomy and so on.  While plenty of stuff happens, nothing is that surprising.

This may be because this is the first major submarine film (that I'm aware of). They were still fairly novel and the film is instructive in showing how they operate.  But since then there've been numerous sub pictures, so we expect more.

It's not bad, exactly, but ho-hum.  Grant is fine, but plays it totally straight.  If you want to see Cary Grant as a submarine commander, check out Operation Petticoat (1959). It's not a classic, but it's fun. (And was a huge hit in its day--bigger than Grant's superior film of the same year North By Northwest.)

Thursday, April 09, 2020

SG

Steve Gadd turns 75 today. You may not have heard of him, but you've heard him.  He spent years as one of the most in demand session drummers ever (and he's still out there playing).

He's worked with countless artists on countless recordings.  Here are just a few notable examples.






Wednesday, April 08, 2020

Before The Beatles

I'm reading Love Me Do!, a short book about The Beatles' tour through England in 1963.  It was published in 1964 and has only recently been made available again.

Since my favorite book on the band, Mark Lewisohn's Tune In (which I've read more than once--in fact, I recently bought the extra-long, extra-expensive version) only takes them up to the end of 1962, it's rather refreshing to see them in 1963, enjoying their first flush of fame.  Feels like I'm reading a sequel.

In fact, Lewisohn has written the foreword, calling it one of the best looks at the band.  And that fascinated me.  Not Lewisohn's words, but the opening sections of the book.  There's a foreword, a preface and an introduction.  (The foreword was written for the newest edition, the preface by the author in 1995--presumably for an earlier edition?--and the introduction was in the original book.)

This is a lot of stuff before the actual story begins.  Fine--it's a slim volume and can use whatever it can get.  But I've always wondered, what is the difference between a foreword, a preface and an introduction.  Are they terms of art, or just the same thing, different word, like argot, lingo and patois?

Tuesday, April 07, 2020

Worth His Words

Wow, William Wordsworth was born 250 years ago today.  Has there ever been a better name for a poet?  He was Britain's Poet Laureate from 1843 to 1850.  How do you apply for that job?

Perhaps his best known work is The Prelude, which he worked on most of his life. All that time just for a prelude.  It's way too long to publish here, so instead, here's one of his most famous poems (and my personal favorite), "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud."

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Monday, April 06, 2020

From Jeffrey To Joey

I Slept With Joey Ramone is a catchy title, but it's misleading.  It's by Mickey Leigh (with help from Legs McNeil), Joey's kid brother.  And it's a fascinating look at one of punk's greatest icons, as well as his brother.

They were two Jewish boys--Jeffrey and Mitch Hyman--who grew up together in Queens in the 50s and 60s.  They were part of a broken family, and had some tough times, but seemed to have fun.  The book spends about 100 pages on the early years, before the Ramones formed, so we get to know young Joey well.

He was tall and skinny, and suffered from low self-esteem.  He also had physical and mental problems.  He had a bad case of OCD (though they didn't call it that then) and it could take him hours just to get ready to go out.

But he and his brother loved rock and roll.  In fact, Mickey was probably more into music than Joey, forming a band first and playing with Johnny Ramone (John Cummings) years before the Ramones started.

But once the band got going, they took off.  For punks, anyway.  Joey, who'd been into glitter, and Johnny, along with Dee Dee and Tommy, came up with a natural, raw style and simple lyrics about everyday (weird) things, stumbling into a sound that defined punk.  As such, they were simply trying to recapture the excitement of early rock and roll, and that they did. Kid brother Mickey was a low-paid roadie at first, and also performed, uncredited, on some of their albums.

The band was never huge, though.  They were successful, but not rich, and their albums didn't sell in the millions (as their fellow punks sometimes did, such as Blondie and Talking Heads).  The Ramones are now widely recognized as a classic band, but they had to work hard to earn a decent living.

There was also tremendous tension within the band.  Joey becoming a star didn't make him any less crazy.  Probably made him more so.  And then there was the drinking and the drugs.  On top of that, Joey and Johnny didn't get along. (Johnny stole his girl, but Johnny was a hard case anyway.) Meanwhile, Dee Dee was also nuts and Tommy left to be replaced by other drummers over the years.

A lot of the book also deals with Mickey's musical career, which looked like it might take off at certain points but never did.  Worse, after Joey became a star, Mickey felt his older brother was imperious, demanding attention and subservience.  Maybe he's right (or maybe it's sour grapes).

Anyway, the Ramones are no longer around, but I'm glad this book is here to remind us of the era.

Sunday, April 05, 2020

Terrifed Tom

Today is the birthday of Thomas Hobbes, born in 1588.  One of the most significant and influential philosophers of modern (as opposed to ancient) times, his work is as relevant as ever.

He wrote about a lot of things, but is best known for Leviathan, his work on social contract theory.  It's a big question--what is the place of the state?  Hobbes believed in a powerful monarchy. (Certainly not democracy.)

Nature is the war of all against all.  People need certainty, and protection, as life in nature is "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short." So we need some political community, some agreed-upon deal, under which to live.  And we all have to give up some of our power for this protection.  A single sovereign to control things is the best and most efficient system.

I'm not saying Hobbes is right. Few are. But he's asking the right questions.  And the many who followed have to deal with Hobbes when they give their answers.  So here's to you, Tom.  Life may be short, but your fame lives on.

Saturday, April 04, 2020

EB

Elmer Bernstein was born 98 years ago today.  Not as famous as Leonard Bernstein (no relation), he nevertheless was one of the great film composers. Some of his work is burned into popular memory.  For instance, he wrote the Magnificent Seven theme.



And here's his theme from The Great Escape:



Early in his career he scored movies such as The Man With The Golden Arm, The Ten Commandments, Sweet Smell Of Success and To Kill A Mockingbird.  Yet in later years he often scored broad comedy, such as Animal House, Airplane! and many more:



So happy birthday, Elmer.  You did it all.

Friday, April 03, 2020

They Say It's Their Birthdays

Sally Rand was born today in 1903.  She was one of the most famous strippers of the 20th century (were there famous strippers before the 20th century?--perhaps Lady Godiva).

Her actual name was Helen Beck.  It was changed for show biz reasons (and not because she was ashamed).  The surname was inspired by Rand McNally.  Her specialties were an ostrich feather dance and a balloon bubble dance.

It's also the birthday of Iron Eyes Cody, born in 1904.  He was known for portraying Native Americans in the movies.  He's the one who sheds a tear in the "Keep American Beautiful" ad.

Turns out he was lying all those years. (And he did claim, even in private life, to be an Indian). He was born Espera Oscar de Corti, an Italian American.  I guess there were already enough Italian actors out there in Hollywood.

Robert Karvelas was born 99 years ago today.  He was an actor, though you can be excused for not knowing his name.

He's best known for playing Larrabee on Get Smart.  If you were a fan of the show, you remember Larrabee.  Don Adams played the lead, Maxwell Smart, a bumbling spy.  Larrabee was so dumb he made Smart look like James Bond. (By the way, Karvelas was Adams' cousin.)

Thursday, April 02, 2020

Tangled Webb

Today is the centennial of Jack Webb.  I love his show, Dragnet, not for the plots, but the speeches.






Wednesday, April 01, 2020

You Know That Can't Be Bad

I often write about The Beatles, so I guess one more post won't hurt.

The band is a classic these days, and their songs seem to have stood the test of time.  So it's always fun to look at the original reaction by the establishment, which just didn't get it.  What fascinates me most is how they don't even bother to discuss the music in any detail, so certain are they it's trash.

The joke's on them.  So here, on April Fools' Day, from an article I found in the L.A. Times, are some of the reactions to Beatlemania that were surging through America in 1964.

The New York Times

The Beatles' vocal quality can be described as hoarsely incoherent, with the minimal enunciation necessary to communicate the schematic texts.


L. A. Times

Not even their mothers would claim that they sing well.

William F. Buckley in the Boston Globe

They are so unbelievably horrible, so appallingly unmusical, so dogmatically insensitive to the magic of the art that they qualify as crowned heads of anti-music, even as the imposter popes went down in history as "anti-popes."

Others at the Boston Globe


They...sound like a group of disorganized amateurs whose voices seem to be fighting each other rather than blending.

[T]eenagers, go ahead and enjoy your Beatlemania.  It won't be fatal and will give you a lot of laughs a few years hence when you find one of their old records or come across a picture of Ringo in a crew cut.


Newsweek

Musically they are a near disaster, guitars and drums slamming out a merciless beat that does away with secondary rhythms, harmony and melody....It is also hard to imagine any other field in which they could apply their talents, and so the odds are that they will fade away, as most adults confidently predict.

Washington Post

They have a commonplace, rather dull act that hardly seems to merit mentioning, yet people hereabouts have mentioned scarcely anything else for a couple of days.

Chicago Tribune

The Beatles must be a huge joke, a wacky gag, a gigantic put-on.

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