Taking a Trip Through a Tollbooth

---

---

Milo (Butch Patrick): That's my speech! I didn't know I was going to eat my words.

King Azaz (Hans Conried): Of course you didn't. That's what we're all doing. You should have made a tastier speech.

---

I don't remember when I first saw "The Phantom Tollbooth," which made its debut on this day in 1970 — but I can tell you where I saw it.

As I have mentioned in this blog before, the merchants in my hometown used to sponsor free movies for kids on Wednesday afternoons in the summer (it's been a long time since I was in my hometown in the summer so I have no idea whether that is still done. Probably not.). My hometown was small and only had one single–screen theater downtown (and a drive–in on the outskirts of town) when I was growing up.

The free movies that were shown were hardly first–run movies. Most were two or three years old, if not older, so my guess would be that "The Phantom Tollbooth" was probably shown in my hometown in the summer of 1972 or 1973. But I could be wrong about that.

I went to a lot of those free summer movies when I was a boy, and my memory is that the kids who went to them — and that was probably most of the people I knew — rarely watched the movies. They were too busy throwing popcorn at each other. Come to think of it, I didn't usually pay much attention to the movies that were shown, either.

But I paid attention to "The Phantom Tollbooth."

I don't know why. I mean, I never read the book on which it was based, and the people I know who have read the book have told me it is superior to the movie — which wouldn't surprise me. I've known for a long time that books are almost always better than the movies they inspire.

But, as I say, I never read the book so I wasn't watching the movie to compare the two.

I guess I was initially drawn to it by the fact that a child actor named Butch Patrick was cast as Milo, a boy who was bored with his life and came home from school one day to find a tollbooth in his room. Who was Butch Patrick? you ask. Well, shoot, back in those days everyone knew who Butch Patrick was — but perhaps not by name. I know I didn't know his name until many years later, but I knew who he was on television — Eddie Munster.

He looked a lot different without the wolfman makeup.

---

---

Anyhow, it turned out this tollbooth had magical properties. Milo had nothing better to do so he got into a toy car and drove through the tollbooth into a world of puns and idioms.

Milo found himself on a road to Expectations, got mired in the Doldrums and was rescued by Tock, a watchdog with an honest–to–God pocketwatch in his belly. The two set off on their journey through the Kingdom of Wisdom. They had to rescue Princesses Rhyme and Reason and restore order to the kingdom.

On this journey they encountered all sorts of oddballs whose voices were supplied by actors most of my contemporaries would have recognized from their TV work, not the least of which was the voice of Hans Conried, whose face was known from his many TV appearances and whose distinctive voice was easily as recognizable as his face.

I doubt that most of my friends were familiar with Mel Blanc's face — and most of us probably didn't know what his real voice sounded like. After all, he created the voices of cartoon characters we all watched on Saturday mornings — Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Yosemite Sam. Blanc was known as "The Man of a Thousand Voices," a figure that must have included the three characters he voiced in "The Phantom Tollbooth."

There are many people who believe — and justifiably so — that Blanc was the most influential voice actor who ever lived.

---

---

There were times when Patrick did some voice acting, too. Most of the movie, in fact. Once he crossed through the tollbooth, his character was an animation. This was 1970, after all. Oh, sure, there had been some live action combined with animation in some Walt Disney movies, but not much else. "The Phantom Tollbooth" shifted from live action to animation and back again rather seamlessly but didn't combine the two.

Well, it might have. It's been a long time since I have seen the movie, and it may be that I have forgotten something — but I don't recall anything like what was seen in "Mary Poppins" several years earlier — or "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" nearly two decades later.

It seems to me that I would have remembered if "The Phantom Tollbooth" had merged live action with animation. I think I would have made a mental note of that, as unusual as it was. Perhaps the process was so expensive at that time that you had to be a Walt Disney to afford it. Come to think of it, Disney was behind "Roger Rabbit," too.

Well, anyway.

I guess my greatest issue with "The Phantom Tollbooth" was its music. Sometimes it could be shrewd and inventive, I'll grant you that, but it could also be tedious. Might have been effective to use the tedious music in the tedious places in the story — like the Doldrums.

And I would have to say that, while I always liked The Munsters, I really found it hard to empathize with Patrick's character, which he played so churlishly that it was difficult for me to imagine anyone really having much sympathy for him — in the beginning, anyway. My memory is that his character got better as the movie went on. But you know the old saying — you never get a second chance to make a first impression, and I think Patrick lost a lot of the audience early.

---

---

Still, my memory is that, overall, the movie was clever, a good children's flick. Unfortunately, Patrick was a teenager when he made it, a bit old for his part even if he was short for his age.

'National Velvet' Holds Up After 70 Years

---

---

"Some day you'll learn that greatness is only the seizing of opportunity — clutching with your bare hands 'til the knuckles show white."

Mi Taylor (Mickey Rooney)

---

Mickey Rooney (who died last spring) got top billing in "National Velvet," which premiered 70 years ago today.

But Elizabeth Taylor is the one who really made it the children's classic it became.

Before I saw it, I assumed from the title that the movie was about a horse named National Velvet — but that was not the way it was. Velvet was the name of Taylor's character, and the National part came from the Grand National steeplechase for which she trained the horse (who was known as "The Pie," short for "The Pirate," a name he acquired from a previous owner).

Rooney was in his 20s and a veteran of dozens of movies when "National Velvet" hit the theaters. Taylor, who was 12 years old, had been in only four, and two were uncredited (her most recent credited appearance had been in the first of the Lassie movies, "Lassie Come Home").

Even more of a newcomer was 19–year–old Angela Lansbury, who made her movie debut in "Gaslight" seven months earlier. Lansbury's role was small, like the roles of the other members of the family (including Anne Revere and Donald Crisp, who starred as the parents). They were mostly there as filler; by and large, it was a two–person show.

As attractive as Lansbury was as a young woman, I have often heard it said that Taylor was a great beauty even as a girl. The term woman–child seems like an exaggeration for most, but it might be appropriate for Taylor — for it almost seems as if she went from being an infant to being a woman overnight — with nothing in between.

I once saw a clip of an interview with a producer who was in the business in the 1930s and 1940s. He said Taylor was more beautiful at the age of 7 than most women ever are at any age.

---

---

Mr. Hallam (Arthur Shields): So you're to win the gelding, are you, Velvet?

Velvet: Oh, of course, I'm to win.

Mr. Hallam: There are ways of arranging it, aren't there? And your father's a clever man ...

Velvet: Oh, I didn't bother him, Mr. Hallam. I just arranged it with God.

---

Some people would argue about that, I guess, but there is no disputing the fact that Taylor was a very beautiful woman — and stunning as a girl.

And she played a resourceful character.

Rooney's character believed himself to be a coward because he wouldn't ride horses — he was a jockey at one time, but he caused an accident that led to the death of another jockey.

Anyway, for reasons that are best left to individual viewers to discover, the horse had no jockey the night before the Grand National, and Rooney tried to muster up enough courage to ride him — but Taylor decided she wanted to ride. She told Rooney to cut her hair so she would look more like a boy.

And he did.

---

---

I've seen a few horse racing sequences in the movies — some were good, some were not.

I was disappointed in the racing sequence in "Seabiscuit." I was more impressed with the sequences in "Secretariat," but, as in real life, the 1973 Belmont lacked suspense.

The sequence in "National Velvet" holds up well, even 70 years later, but if I was going to compare it to anything, I wouldn't compare it to another racing sequence. I would compare it to the fight scenes in the original "Rocky."

Both movies were mentioned in the American Film Institute's list of the top 100 inspiring movies. ("Rocky" was #4; "National Velvet" was #24.) "Seabiscuit" was on that list, but, inexplicably, "Secretariat" was not.

It's a heart–pounding, pulse–racing experience, all the more impressive because it was done with the limitations of 1940s technology.

While her screen time was limited, Revere won Best Supporting Actress, one of two Oscars won by "National Velvet" — Robert Kern's editing was the other.

The Candyman

---

---

"So shines a good deed in a weary world."

Willy Wonka

---

For some reason, I remember that "Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory" — which premiered on June 30, 1971 — was the first movie that my younger brother was permitted to see at the theater without my parents.

I don't know why I remember that. I must have overheard a discussion between my parents about whether he should be allowed to see it without them — and the memory of that has embedded itself in my mind.

That wasn't an issue for me. I had been going to movies without my parents' physical presence (but, at that point in my life, always with their blessing) for awhile. In fact, I don't remember the first movie I was allowed to see without them.

(I do remember feeling as if I had taken another step toward being a grown–up, but that is all I remember. And, in hindsight, it wasn't so grown up after all. I mean, I think my parents started allowing me to go to movies without them when I was in first grade — and they might have moved the schedule up a bit for my brother.)

As the oldest of the two children in my family, however, it was my duty, at times, to act as a chaperone for my brother. I don't recall having such a companion when I first went to movies without my parents. Perhaps the arrangement was presented to me as an outing with a friend who might have been a year or so older than I was — and I never realized that my parents had arranged for a surrogate.

Anyway, in the months ahead, I was called upon to accompany my brother to several films that my parents had concluded had the potential to be traumatizing for him (and, therefore, he needed someone reassuring nearby) — but there was really no such possibility with "Willy Wonka."

---

---

Or was there?

The movie was punctuated with catchy music. In fact, the music was the only part of the movie that received an Oscar nomination. Sammy Davis Jr. turned one of the songs from the movie into his signature piece. His version of "The Candy Man" was at the top of the charts in 1972.

There were also a lot of colorful, candyesque images — actual candy, fantasy candy or just bright candy colors. Nothing traumatizing about that.

Yes, "Willy Wonka" seemed harmless enough. And it was, I guess. Oh, sure, there were some scenes that could have been disturbing for my 8–year–old brother. (Those orange–faced Oompa Loompas were bizarre, I'll grant you. Not exactly benign characters the way the Munchkins in "The Wizard of Oz" had been.)

He might even have felt inclined to be upset at times — until he looked at his older brother sitting next to him, and he realized there was nothing to be concerned about. I don't know if that was what happened — but I would like to think it was. It would give my presence some validity, I suppose.

I didn't really need my brother's validation, though. I enjoyed the movie. I never saw the Johnny Depp remake (that wasn't a conscious decision on my part, but I must confess that I had heard talk that he intended to take an entirely different approach to the role of Wonka than Gene Wilder had, which did make me more resistant to the idea of seeing it). Don't know if I ever will.

In a way, I guess, I look upon Wilder's interpretation of the Wonka role the way I do Peter Sellers' interpretation of the Inspector Clouseau role. I can't imagine anyone else doing them.

(My brother has seen Steve Martin in the remakes of the "Pink Panther" movies, by the way, and says they were good.)

Some remakes are good ideas. Sometimes they actually are better than the originals. In my experience, though, most of the time, they are not.

Steve Martin's performance as Inspector Clouseau may be one of those exceptions, and Depp's interpretation of the Wonka role may be, too.

And maybe, one day, I will find that out for myself.

But, even if I do, I suspect that I will still prefer the originals.

The Fate of Jackson's Children

I have to wonder how Michael Jackson would feel about this.

Granted, Jackson's behavior was weird, but it has seemed to me, for a long time, that a lot of the blame for that belongs to his father, Joe Jackson. Michael Jackson said publicly, starting in an interview with Oprah Winfrey in 1993, that his father abused him and his brothers when they were growing up. His father confirmed the allegations in 2003.

So, here we are, less than a week after Michael Jackson's death, and a Los Angeles County Superior Court judge has granted temporary guardianship of his three children to his mother, Katherine Jackson.

Michael Jackson's parents live together. They've been married for nearly 60 years. If Michael Jackson's children will be living with their grandmother, it follows that they will also be living with their grandfather.

Joe Jackson is 80 years old now. Maybe he won't be inclined to abuse his grandchildren, particularly if he isn't trying to mold them into a lucrative performing act.

But who knows what may be going through Joe Jackson's mind? He addressed the subject of his son's children while answering questions about plans for a funeral/memorial service (there are no such plans as of yet), and he insisted that "We love those kids, too. We'll give them the education they're supposed to have."

But, truthfully, he seemed more interested in talking about a recording company venture of which he is a part.