Showing posts with label Henry Gibson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henry Gibson. Show all posts

Saturday, June 20, 2015

On a Mission From God



Mrs. Tarantino: Are you the police?

Elwood (Dan Aykroyd): No, ma'am. We're musicians.

One of the enduring mysteries of life is this: Why are some of the greatest talents in every field snuffed out far too soon? Entertainers appear particularly prone to this — or maybe it just seems that way, given that entertainers are in the public spotlight and people who teach or do important research generally are not. Nevertheless, talented people from every walk of life are taken before their time.

And every time I watch "The Blues Brothers," which premiered on this date in 1980, I am reminded that such a talent, John Belushi, was lost when he had so much still to share with us. I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that Belushi was one of the elite performers of my generation, but the sad truth is that he was known to most of us for only a few years before he died.

Ah, but what years they were! And "The Blues Brothers" is probably exceeded only by "Animal House" in terms of the influence Belushi's work had on that generation.

The story opened with Belushi (Joliet Jake) being paroled from prison and Dan Aykroyd (Elwood) picking him up. Jake's first stop after being released was a visit to a nun known as "the Penguin" who told them the orphanage where Jake and Elwood were brought up was going to be shut down unless $5,000 could be raised. The Blues Brothers offered to come up with the money another way, but the Penguin refused to accept stolen money.

And that led the Blues Brothers to their "mission from God."

They went to a church where James Brown was pastor — and they saw the light. They were inspired to raise the funds the Penguin needed by legal means. They set out to reunite their old band and put on a show to raise the money.

And thus began the Blues Brothers' odyssey. They found their old buddies in some pretty improbable places. Aretha Franklin, for example, was running a restaurant and Ray Charles was running a music store. (Franklin, wrote critic Roger Ebert, "occupies one of the movie's best scenes." I am inclined to agree.)

Along the way they trashed a mall by driving through it, offended a restaurant patron and encountered Henry Gibson and a group of Nazis blocking a bridge.

Somehow, they managed to do their benefit show and raise the money for the Penguin's orphanage. They were a little late to their show so Cab Calloway filled in to warm up the crowd with a rendition of "Minnie the Moocher."

And they repeatedly encountered a mysterious woman (Carrie Fisher) who was intent upon killing Jake. She took potshots at him periodically. She tried to blow him up. She used a flamethrower around a gas tank next to the phone booth where the Blues Brothers were trying to make a call. All without confronting him directly — until she actually did confront them at the end of the movie.

The Blues Brothers drove off in a hail of gunfire, and they were eventually followed by a line of police cars that rivaled the one that pursued O.J. Simpson in real life 14 years later.

I'm not kidding. There have been some wild car chases in the movies, but the one in "The Blues Brothers" has to be one of the wildest.

"The fact is," wrote Ebert, "the whole movie is a chase, with Jake and Elwood piloting a used police car that seems ... to have a life of its own."

In spite of everything it had been through, that car led a merry little chase at the end of the movie that was worthy of "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World" or "Sex and the Single Girl."

"The Blues Brothers" is still enjoyable. I watched it again recently, and it is as entertaining now as it was 35 years ago.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Thanks for the Poems, Henry


The Eyelash
"The eyelash is a friend to man.
It lives to serve the eye.
It fights the dirt and dust and grime,
And keeps the eyeball dry.
Flick, flick. Flick, flick.
It's busy as a bee.
Flick, flick. Flick, flick.
It's helpin' you and me."


Henry Gibson
(1935-2009)

Back in the day, a real fellow named Jack Handey wrote for "Saturday Night Live." One of his contributions to the show was his "Deep Thoughts" segment. They weren't poems — more like one–liners.

I guess Jack Handey was the natural comedic descendant of Henry Gibson, whose poems graced Rowan and Martin's "Laugh–In" in the late 1960s. Gibson died Monday at the age of 73.

What one remembers from "Laugh–In" depends, I guess, on how old one was when it was on the air.

Folks who were adults at the time remember when Richard Nixon came on the show and said, "Sock it to me?"

Others — probably the adolescent boys of that time — remember Goldie Hawn dancing in a bikini.

I remember Henry Gibson, dressed in the "mod" clothing of the day and holding an enormous artificial flower, reciting an original poem. He typically prefaced his appearance with a deadpan statement — "A poem ... by Henry Gibson:"
Dogs Are Better Than Ants
"Dogs are better than ants
Because you don't have to bend so far to pet them
In addition, they are sturdy old muzzlers
Who fetch us our slippers, papers, and twig chunks
Twig chunks
But most of all, they stay out of jelly jars and
Never go squish if you happen to step on them."

Gibson also had a memorable regular bit in a segment called the "Cocktail Party." He was typically shown dressed like a priest, sipping tea. At some point, he would set down his teacup, utter a one–liner and go back to sipping tea.

He was somewhat unremarkable physically, a bit shorter than most men. As a result, he sort of got lost or confused in some folks' memory banks. After news of his death started to get around, I saw a reference to his passing on Facebook. Someone responded to the news with this comment: "Very interesting."

That was the catchphrase used by Arte Johnson, one of Gibson's "Laugh–In" castmates who typically dressed like a German soldier and smoked a cigarette while he delivered it. Johnson and Gibson shared some physical characteristics, but they definitely were different people.

The humor on "Laugh–In" probably seems dated now, maybe even silly. But it played an important role in the evolution of American comedy from the truly silly and often mundane comedy that came before to the edgier, push–the–envelope style we've seen since.

Henry Gibson made a significant contribution. I'm sorry to see him go.

Thanks for the poems, Henry.