Showing posts with label Barbara Billingsley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barbara Billingsley. Show all posts

Thursday, July 02, 2015

'Airplane!' Is 35? Surely You Can't Be Serious



"Ladies and gentleman, this is your stewardess speaking. We regret any inconvenience the sudden cabin movement might have caused. This is due to periodic air pockets we encountered. There's no reason to become alarmed, and we hope you enjoy the rest of your flight. By the way, is there anyone on board who knows how to fly a plane?"

Elaine (Julie Hagerty)

"Airplane!" has always been something of a guilty pleasure. For me, anyway.

Even in the far less politically correct climate of this day in 1980, when "Airplane!" was first shown on America's movie screens, much of its humor was of the National Lampoon, Saturday Night Live variety — irreverent. Mostly, though, it was silly, the kind of stuff you probably giggled at when you were in fourth grade.

Film critic Roger Ebert put it this way: "It is sophomoric, obvious, predictable, corny and quite often very funny. And the reason it's funny is frequently because it's sophomoric, predictable, corny, etc."

A good example: Robert Stack pulling off a pair of sunglasses, revealing another pair of sunglasses beneath it.

If "Airplane!" premiered today, it would probably draw the wrath of many groups who would claim to be offended by something — either on their own behalf or someone else's.

Even in the context of its 35–year–old form, it probably is not advisable to quote lines from it if you're in the company of people who belong to certain social, ethnic and/or religious groups. In fact, I am convinced that it would not be a success today. The times just aren't right for it.

The times were right for it, though, in the 1970s and 1980s — which, despite their many shortcomings, were good years for movies like "Airplane!" — and "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," "Blazing Saddles" and "Young Frankenstein."

"Airplane!" wasn't really discriminatory, though — at least, not in the traditional sense. It was an equal opportunity insulter.

The story was loosely based around Ted (Robert Hays) and Elaine (Julie Hagerty) and their rather dysfunctional relationship. Ted once flew planes in battle, but he suffered a traumatic experience and steadfastly refused to fly a plane again — until he was forced to do so by circumstances.

Ted (Robert Hays): Surely you can't be serious?

Dr. Rumack (Leslie Nielsen): I am serious. And don't call me Shirley.

One thing I have discovered with movies that I really find humorous, like "Airplane!" is that I find things that are new to me each time I watch them — and I can only conclude that I must have missed them the first time because I was laughing at the joke before it.

That would probably be my only complaint about "Airplane!" — there are places where its pacing could be much more beneficial to the overall script.

But I can say that about many comedies that I have enjoyed over the years. It often takes two or three viewings to get the full benefit from such a movie.

All my old favorite moments are still my favories — like the scene where the former June Cleaver (Barbara Billingsley) volunteered to translate the jive lingo of two black passengers for their white stewardess.

And I always laugh at the line that formed of people who wanted to calm an hysterical passenger. The first few people slapped her around; those standing in line had a crowbar, a lead pipe, a revolver ...

Randy (Lorna Patterson): Excuse me, sir, there's been a little problem in the cockpit …

Ted (Robert Hays): The cockpit … what is it?

Randy: It's the little room in the front of the plane where the pilots sit, but that's not important right now.

The last time I watched it, it occurred to me that "Airplane!" was written in the Mel Brooks style — not quite as clever as Neil Simon but easily capable of producing a belly laugh or two.

I will admit, though, that most of the movie's humor was related to things and people that would have been recognizable to audiences in 1980 — but not necessarily audiences in 2015.

There isn't much point in relating any more of the plot — such as it was — except that it is probably just as funny now as it was then for someone seeing it for the first time — even if that person isn't familiar with many of the references — although my guess is that, if you're seeing it for the first time and you don't know who June Cleaver was, you'd probably be wise to watch an episode or two of Leave It To Beaver before you watch "Airplane!" It probably wouldn't be a bad idea to watch the movie that is being parodied — 1970's "Airport." That's just my opinion, though.

Incidentally, "Airplane!" marked the debut — and probably the career high point — of actor David Leisure, who went on to star as Joe Isuzu in TV commercials in the late '80s and early '90s. He played one of the Hare Krishnas at the airport.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

America's Mom Passes Away



I was never really a fan of Leave It To Beaver.

It came along before my time, and my family didn't even have a TV until I was in elementary school. By that time, Leave It To Beaver had been off the air for awhile.

But there are those among my contemporaries for whom Leave It To Beaver played a pivotal role in their formative years. And, I would venture to say, the nurturing, stay–at–home mom played by Barbara Billingsley was an integral, if often understated, character in the idealized fantasy of that show.

Anyway, I feel I would be remiss if I did not note Billingsley's passing yesterday at the age of 94.

I guess any list of great TV moms would have to include June Cleaver. Jerry Mathers, who played the Beaver, considered Billingsley a mentor and a friend as well as a colleague and compared her character to another great TV mom, Edith Bunker, who usually played the straight woman.

Like most of the actresses who have played great TV moms, Billingsley was a reflection of her times. Diahann Carroll was the first black TV mom — well, the first one with her own series — and Florence Henderson and Shirley Jones were harbingers of a new era for women, an era that seemed almost to reach its zenith with Bonnie Franklin but then went into new and unexpected directions in the years that followed.

In many ways, it all began with Billingsley, who was a true TV icon. Some may argue — and not without some justification — that Lucille Ball was the first TV mom (or perhaps the first truly popular one) — or that Harriet Nelson and Donna Reed got there first.

But Billingsley really set the standard — perhaps because TV grew in public acceptance through the 1950s and more television sets could be found in private homes in the late 1950s than in the early 1950s — and TV actresses have been reaching for that bar for decades.

That is her legacy.

She took the role of June Cleaver very seriously. A heavy smoker in her youth, she reportedly gave it up because she didn't feel June Cleaver should smoke. She was conscious of her responsibility as a role model and a TV icon.

After Leave It To Beaver, Billingsley was typecast and rarely got other acting opportunities. She said she had far too much reverence for June to accept any projects that made fun of her.

But that didn't keep her from accepting projects like "Airplane!" in which she played an elderly passenger who volunteered to translate the "jive" talk from two black passengers.

Even casual viewers could pick up on the irony of the WASPish June Cleaver — who always dressed impeccably, served nutritious meals and, speaking in a non–political sense, behaved in a conservative manner — translating a distinctive English dialect spoken by members of a racial minority group as if they came from a foreign land.

And the topper was June Cleaver storming off, after her brief argument with the black passengers, muttering, "Jive–ass dude don't got no brains anyhow."

Mathers was right. Billingsley did have a great many talents, most of which never were put on display on Leave It to Beaver. But she seemed content with that.

Some have criticized June Cleaver and the idealized image of American motherhood that she presented for encouraging stereotypes. But, like great art, great music, great literature, television reflects the audience of its day in many ways. Television's archives are filled with programs and news reports that tell us who we were and what we hoped to be at a certain point in time.

In the late 1950s and early 1960s, many young American women wanted to be June Cleaver.

In 2010, there are still those who would like to be June Cleaver. But the times have changed, and stay–at–home moms are far less common than they once were.

If a young woman wants to be a stay–at–home mom these days, her best bet may be to watch the glorified version — and dream of a time when a young woman could hope to be like June Cleaver, wearing her trademark pearls while doing the gardening or dressed to host a party even while preparing dinner for the family in her spotless kitchen.

Rest in peace, June.