Sunday, January 12, 2014

The Debut of Led Zeppelin



Today, Led Zeppelin is regarded as a classic rock band, a cultural icon, but 45 years ago today, the world was really getting its first taste when Led Zeppelin released its debut album.

As I understand it, the initial reviews were negative, and I guess that is understandable, really. No other band, no matter how rebellious its music sounded, could compete with Led Zeppelin. Their sound was a unique blend of blues, heavy metal and hard rock, and it was just about guaranteed to annoy the older generation.

What more could a young person, determined to challenge authority, want from a band?

But anyone who listened to Led Zeppelin in those days quickly discovered there was more to Led Zeppelin's sound than noise. It was a radically different kind of sound, and a lot of people didn't know what to make of it.

In hindsight, it can be said that Led Zeppelin was more than a means to annoy the older generation. Led Zeppelin made really good music.

I discovered Led Zeppelin several years after that debut album, but "Dazed and Confused," one of the tracks on that original record, has long been one of my absolute favorites.

The record itself reached #10 on Billboard's chart following its initial release. Today, Rolling Stone ranks it #29 on its list of the 500 greatest albums of all time (higher than any other Led Zeppelin album). Ten years ago, it was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame.

That debut album has had a lasting influence on the cultural landscape. Other albums contained songs that are more recognizable to mainstream audiences, but Zeppelin's fans have a fondness for many of the tracks that easily matches songs like "Rock and Roll" and "Stairway to Heaven."

There were those in America who had heard of Led Zeppelin before the album hit the store shelves but not many. The band launched an American tour to introduce themselves to U.S. audiences in late 1968, starting the day after Christmas in Denver.

The material on that first album had been recorded a couple of months earlier, so, when the band began its tour, it was way ahead of other groups at that stage of their chronological development. The Led Zeppelin sound was well developed, and the tracks on the first album bear witness to its uniqueness.

Led Zeppelin took what folks like Jimi Hendrix and Jeff Beck were doing and made it their own. Songs like "Dazed and Confused" get most of the attention with their obvious blues influences, but songs like "Communication Breakdown" were — in hindsight — much more representative of what fans could expect.

It is worth noting that the record came out at a time when an album's cover art was almost as important as the music, and Led Zeppelin did not disappoint. The album's artwork was based on the famous photo of the Hindenburg ablaze in May 1937. It was a reference to the origin of the group's name, which, supposedly went something like this: Jimmy Page was discussing forming a band with Jeff Beck, Keith Moon and John Entwistle. Moon said that would "probably go over like a lead balloon," and Entwistle said, "[A] lead zeppelin." The four didn't form a band, but a name for a band had been born.

This is really an important date in the development of hard rock (and, for that matter, heavy metal) as a musical genre. Led Zeppelin was a pioneer, a band with a harder edge than anything that had come before — and a harbinger of things to come.

Hawkeye's House of Cards



Frank (Larry Linville): [after being handed a Section 8 form to sign] You're asking me to let a pervert out of the Army?

Hawkeye (Alan Alda): Oh, by all means, Frank. Let's leave the perverts in the Army.

Trapper John (Wayne Rogers): Anyway, Klinger's not a pervert.

Hot Lips (Loretta Swit): How do you know?

Trapper John: Because I'm one — and he's never at the meetings!

People will sometimes to go to remarkable lengths to accomplish apparently small things.

That was the point of the episode of M*A*S*H that first aired 40 years ago tonight.

Hawkeye needed a new pair of boots. As you can see from the photo above, his old ones simply weren't suitable for Korea (or anyplace else, for that matter) in winter.

So he did the logical thing and went to see the supply sergeant (Johnny Haymer). But the supply officer would only let him have them in exchange for dental work. So Hawkeye went to see the dentist, who wanted some R&R in Tokyo in exchange for his services.

Thus began an hilarious stretch of horse trading that finally reached its peak when it brought Hawkeye to Hot Lips, who wanted a birthday party for Frank Burns. Frank had been feeling low on his birthday, and Hot Lips thought a party — with lots of guests and presents — would perk him up.

Hawkeye really needed those new boots, but he resisted Hot Lips' request — at first. "You expect me to drag 20 screaming people to a party for Frank Burns and paint smiles on their faces? And presents?" an incredulous Hawkeye asked. "Half this camp spends its time sticking pins in little Frank Burns dolls."

He and Trapper found the suggestion ludicrous and laughed in Hot Lips' face. But they weren't laughing long. As they left the tent, Hawkeye stepped in a puddle of icy water and immediately started making plans for the party.

Hawkeye didn't exactly have to paint smiles on the guests' faces, but the room was full of people whose deals with Hawkeye were so tenuous that the whole thing was a house of cards that was vulnerable to even the slightest breeze.

It didn't take long for an ill wind to start blowing, either. Appropriately, it came from Frank himself.

When Frank appeared to be as happy as it was possible for him to be, Hawkeye and Trapper approached him about signing the Section 8 form to which Klinger had dedicated himself. It had been the condition for getting his assistance in the plan to get Hawkeye his boots.

Margaret: They love you, Frank!

Frank Burns: It was their hatred that fooled me.

But Frank was having none of it.

And one by one, the little deals that made up the one big deal fell apart.

"Look, we made a deal," Zale, the supply sergeant, said in explaining why he wouldn't provide the boots that Hawkeye wanted. "He didn't come through."

"Do you know what I did? How I degraded myself? How I groveled, how I humbled, how I cheapened myself?" Hawkeye asked. "All for a pair of miserable, lousy Army boots? I swear to you, as dedicated as I am to the sanctity and preservation of human life, if I had a gun at this moment, I would send my head across the tent!"

"A gun takes six weeks," Zale told him. "There's a terrific waiting list."

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Survival in the North Atlantic



It would be quite a challenge for a modern movie director to make a film like "Lifeboat," the Alfred Hitchcock drama that made its debut 70 years ago today.

It isn't that disaster movies are so rare. They aren't. But disaster movies like "Lifeboat" — which require a good story and great acting in the absence of splashy special effects — are quite rare, if not nonexistent, today.

Hitchcock had been playing it safe, I suppose, in the years before "Lifeboat." He had made some of his best movies in the preceding years, but they were mostly melodramas, not quite as thrilling as the thrillers he produced later in his career. In fact, many of his projects could be described as routine.

Apparently, he decided to stretch his creative wings with "Lifeboat."

"Lifeboat" was a real challenge for Hitchcock. It was really his first movie to be set entirely in a confined space. He revisited that style in a couple of movies a decade later — "Rear Window" and "Dial M For Murder."

In "Lifeboat," a diverse group of people found themselves together in a lifeboat in the North Atlantic after their ship and a U–boat sank each other, and they were forced to work with each other to achieve a mutual objective — survival.

The group included mostly British and Americans, but there was one German survivor who was pulled into the boat. That led to some remarkable discussions ...

For example, at one point, it was suggested that the German should be thrown overboard and allowed to die. But, after a spirited argument, the German (who was later revealed to have been the captain of the U–boat), was allowed to stay on the boat.

One could hardly imagine a more diverse cross–section of passengers in a cramped lifeboat — but Hitchcock's exploration of the characters made for a gripping story.

Hitchcock was known for his cameo appearances in his films. Usually he appeared briefly and casually as a very minor character, but a movie like "Lifeboat" presented him with some unusual problems.

Given the fact that "Lifeboat" was set at sea, Hitchcock couldn't exactly walk by as he did in other films. But he could be seen as the before and after photos in a newspaper ad for a weight–reduction project.

Hitchcock's greatest influence in the film could be seen in the performances he drew from his cast. Tallulah Bankhead gave what may have been her best performance as a cynical columnist, but she didn't outshine her co–stars, like William Bendix and Hume Cronyn.

If you've never seen "Lifeboat," you should — and you will have your opportunity a week from today. Turner Classic Movies will be showing it next Saturday at 7 p.m. (Central).

Friday, January 10, 2014

Remember 'Where's the Beef?'



Thirty years ago tonight, an iconic TV commercial made its debut.

It was titled "Fluffy Bun," and it showed three elderly ladies looking at a very large hamburger bun, ostensibly served by a prominent (but unnamed) fast–food outlet. "It's a very big fluffy bun," they all agreed.

But then they lifted the top half of the bun to reveal a tiny hamburger patty.

"Where's the beef?" demanded 81–year–old Clara Peller. The commercial promoted Wendy's hamburgers.

I was astonished at the popularity of the commercial. It was funny, but I never thought it was anything remarkable.

It was one of those instances where a commercial becomes symbolic of its times. I don't know if it is possible to explain why, other than to say it was a perfect storm of circumstances and media.

Like the title of the movie "Groundhog Day," which has come to be synonymous with the notion of spinning one's wheels, the commercial's punchline took on a life of its own; today, if someone asks "Where's the beef?" that person probably isn't inquiring about the nearest hamburger joint. Instead, it's most likely a comment on the substance (or absence thereof) of a person, place or thing.

In 1984, the original commercial spawned a series of popular followup commercials, each featuring Peller and her catchphrase, and she became a media sensation.

Later that year, Democratic presidential nominee Walter Mondale used the catchphrase in his unsuccessful campaign.

Tuesday, January 07, 2014

Lincoln Metaphors Abound in 'The Stormy Present'



"The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present."

Abraham Lincoln
Dec. 1, 1862

The episode of The West Wing that aired 10 years ago tonight ("The Stormy Present") focused on a rare relationship in American life. It is the relationship that exists between American presidents — regardless of any of the usual barriers, including party affiliation and ideology.

It has been said before that those who have served as America's president belong to the most exclusive club on the face of the earth, and that may be true — although, now that we have a living ex–pope, perhaps the papacy, not the presidency, is the most exclusive club.

America has seldom, if ever, had more than five living presidents (former and present) at any given time in its history. Until last year, though, it had been centuries since there had been a living ex–pope.

On this night in 2004, President Bartlet (Martin Sheen) was attending the funeral of a former president whose views were often at odds with his own. En route to the funeral, Air Force One gave rides to a couple of other former presidents — played by James Cromwell and John Goodman. Cromwell's character (apparently based on Jimmy Carter) was more closely aligned with Bartlet philosophically and had been duly elected president; the conservative Goodman (apparently inspired by Ronald Reagan) was closer politically to the deceased former president and had served as the unelected interim president when Bartlet invoked the 25th Amendment and stepped aside temporarily during the search for his kidnapped daughter.

The story gave viewers a glimpse into the relationship between chief executives.

They had all dealt with the pressures of the presidency. They knew its isolation. They understood what Harry Truman meant when he called the Oval Office "the crown jewel of the federal penal system." A president could be candid with them in a way he could not be with anyone else.

He as much as said so himself. "When we were elected, I really thought we were going to own the place, do it differently, better," Bartlet said to his speechwriter, Toby (Richard Schiff), at one point. "Now I realize the men on this plane are the only others who have been there before, who really know."

"There ought to be a warning sign when you hitch up to be leader of the free world."

Martin Sheen (President Jed Bartlet)

As a backdrop, Bartlet was monitoring developments in a growing crisis in Saudi Arabia, and he got the kind of advice from his colleagues that a president can only get from those who have sat where he sits.

"You start saddling up camels in every country in the Middle East then you better be prepared to spend the next 50 years sifting through sand because this isn't a quick run on the beach, Jed," Cromwell's character warned him. "This is the new world order."

The writers for The West Wing had a technique of which, as a writer myself, I was envious — in the sense that I wished I had thought of it first. I guess I still am.

The writers used metaphors galore in this episode.

They used a phrase from one of Abraham Lincoln's presidential speeches as the name of the episode — then, as a tie–in, they had the entire cast preparing to go to a performance at Ford's Theater, which is, of course, where Lincoln was assassinated.

Just as the group was preparing to leave the White House, word came that a former president had died, and everyone's plans changed.

Lincoln was a recurring theme in the episode — from its name to the plan to go to Ford's Theater to a final plea from the late president.

Lincoln was there by implication, too, in a side story that was present in which the state of North Carolina was trying to get back a stolen copy of the Bill of Rights. Apparently, a soldier from Connecticut had taken it during the Civil War, and North Carolina wanted it back.

Josh (Bradley Whitford) was the mediator.

After the funeral, Bartlet and the widow spent some time together, and she gave him a letter her husband had left for Bartlet.

In it, he advised Bartlet to "go see Lincoln and listen."

And he did. At the end of the episode, Bartlet could be seen ascending the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

And the story went on in the West Wing universe.

Monday, January 06, 2014

The Scales of Justice



A decade ago tonight, as the Frasier series was coming to a close after 11 seasons, Frasier and his KACL colleagues were competing with a rival radio station to lose weight. The prize for the winners would be a trip to Las Vegas.

The KACL gang resorted to a number of strategies, including gorging just before the initial weigh–in to artificially boost their group weight ...
Bulldog Briscoe (Dan Butler): We got cheeseburgers, doughnuts, french fries, tacos ...

Gil Chesterton (Edward Hibbert): And a duck confit that's as rich as Donald Trump and twice as greasy.

and trying to steam away additional pounds in the hours before the penultimate weigh–in. Eventually, it all came down to a hilarious moment when Roz (Peri Gilpin), in a Rockyesque moment, got one of her colleagues to "cut me" (meaning her ponytail) — to claim victory by an ounce or so.

Frasier was disinterested, at best, and his initial weight–loss strategy was to add a salad to every meal (for you dieters out there, it didn't work — so don't try that at home!). But, after the first weigh–in, he had a brand–new motivation. At the weigh–in, he discovered that a prep–school nemesis was on the other team.

Apparently, in addition to being Frasier's main rival for the affections of a Scandinavian exchange student, this nemesis was memorable for how he tormented Frasier when he mistakenly signed up to play girls field hockey. To hear Frasier tell it, it was a completely understandable error.

"The sign said 'F Hockey,' " Frasier protested. "I assumed it meant 'Freshman Hockey.' "

"The little plaid skirt didn't tip you off?" Martin (John Mahoney) asked.

"I thought it was a kilt!" Frasier replied.

As a result, to the winners of the competition would go more than merely trips to Las Vegas. Frasier and this one–time nemesis made a bet. If Frasier's team lost, he would have to wear his field hockey uniform. And if Frasier's team won, the nemesis would have to replace a chess set he took from Frasier in prep school.

Bess Armstrong, making her second appearance on the show, was the host of the local TV program on which the competition played out and acted as the moderator for the competition.

In a parallel (although not necessarily connected) story, Niles (David Hyde Pierce) and Martin tried to nurse an ailing pigeon. The pigeon was a "buddy" of Eddie's who flew onto Frasier's balcony and observed Eddie through the glass doors — while Eddie observed him.

In explaining the relationship to Frasier, Martin said, "The bird's like his pet."

"Eddie is a pet," Frasier said. "He doesn't get to have a pet."

To prevent the pigeon from flying into the glass, Martin had put a smudge on it, but compulsive cleaner Niles cleaned up the smudge, and the pigeon — whom Martin called Barney — had flown into the glass.

"Are you happy?" asked Martin when they hurried to the balcony to see if Barney was all right. "You killed Eddie's friend. Poor little guy."

Then, after a pause, he looked at Niles and asked, "Now what should we do? Just kick him over the edge?"

The pigeon wasn't really dead, though, so Niles and Martin put it in a box and tried to nurse it back to health.

But, in the end, Eddie was the instrument of Barney's destruction.

Martin put the box on the floor next to Eddie and urged him to "say hello." Instead, Eddie stuck his head in the box, grabbed the bird and ran off down the hall.

Niles, who had been out of the room, returned, and Martin quickly closed the lid of the box. He told Niles that the bird was asleep, and Niles set down a bowl of bird seed he had in his hand.

"You know, Dad," Niles said, "I think he may like me even more than he likes Eddie."

"No contest," Martin replied.

Sunday, January 05, 2014

The Love Doctor



Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan (Loretta Swit): She's darling, Henry. Looks a little like your oldest daughter, doesn't she, Frank? He has three.

In the episode of M*A*S*H that aired on this night 40 years ago, Henry Blake (McLean Stevenson) was returning to the camp after spending a week in Tokyo.

While he was in Tokyo, Henry made the acquaintance of Nancy Sue Parker (Kathrine Baumann), a 20–year–old former cheerleader, and thought he had fallen in love — even though the 40–something C.O. had a wife and family back home.

It's the kind of scenario of which many a middle–aged man has fantasized. There was a lesson about fidelity to be found in the episode, but mostly, I think, it was just good for a lot of great dialogue.

Not long after Henry's return, Nancy Sue visited the 4077th, giving Henry a chance to show her off and inspiring many jokes, not the least of which were the reactions of the male staffers to the attractive young lady.

When she pulled up in a Jeep, her physical attributes were immediately obvious, and she hadn't said a word.

"I'm a doctor; you can believe me," Hawkeye (Alan Alda) said to Trapper John (Wayne Rogers) as they watched Henry run to greet her. "That is a nice leg."

"That sweater's not stuffed with chopped liver, either," Trapper replied.

The gags continued when Henry introduced Nancy Sue to the staff.

"It's a very genuine pleasure to have you at the 4077th, Nancy dear," Hot Lips said to her.

"Oh, it's mine, too," the bubbly Nancy Sue replied. "Everyone's been so terrific about being nice to me!"

"It's nice to be nice ... to the nice!" Frank Burns (Larry Linville) contributed. (Frank, it is worth noting, was never known for his eloquence.)

Later, Nancy Sue gave a demonstration of the cheers her character had given at Ohio State. In fact, Baumann was a cheerleader in high school, and she was Miss Ohio five years before her appearance on "M*A*S*H" so her leaps and cheers were authentic.

Hawkeye and Trapper watched Nancy Sue, then glanced at Henry, who was beaming from ear to ear.

"The proud father," Hawkeye remarked.

Nancy Sue left a lot of people tongue–tied — but she did know how to untie some tongues, in a manner of speaking. While Henry was busy in surgery, she came on to Hawkeye when he escorted her to her tent. Hawkeye had a reputation for being a ladies' man, but the situation clearly made him uncomfortable.

After Nancy Sue kissed him, Hawkeye said, "In the first place, I want to thank you from the bottom of my mouth. Secondly, we're not in the parking lot at the prom. And lastly, one of us loves Henry Blake, and I think it's me."

(He later described the kiss to Trapper as a "good–night tonsillectomy you wouldn't believe.")

Henry, as it turned out, had already figured out that his place was with his wife back home, not young Nancy Sue.

And, inevitably, Henry's red–hot romance fizzled out.

George Reeves' 100th Birthday



"Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!"

George Reeves, who was probably best known as TV's Superman, was born on this day 100 years ago.

The first glimpse that most people got of him was 75 years ago in "Gone With the Wind." He was one of the Tarleton twins seen early in the movie flirting with Scarlett.

Before he landed his career–defining role as Superman, Reeves appeared in several B movies, co–starring in a few with Ronald Reagan and James Cagney. The Superman role led to some other movie roles as well. In general, I guess you could say the '50s were good years for Reeves.

At least, until the last one.

In the early morning hours of June 16, 1959, Reeves died of a gunshot wound to his head. Initially believed to be a suicide, many people refused to accept that Reeves would take his own life; thus, the truth about Reeves' death remains shrouded in mystery more than half a century later.

Coincidentally, one of Reeves' last remaining co–stars from "Gone With the Wind," Alicia Rhett, died yesterday at the age of 98 in Charleston, S.C. Rhett played India Wilkes, the sister of Scarlett's love interest, Ashley Wilkes.

The 75th anniversary of the release of "Gone With the Wind" is coming up later this year.

If your only exposure to Reeves has been in his role as Superman or even "Gone With the Wind," you might want to look at Turner Classic Movies today. Four of his pre–Superman movies will be shown, starting at 9 a.m. (Central).

Saturday, January 04, 2014

Picking Up Extra Money



Oscar (Jack Klugman): I wouldn't bet somebody else's money on just a horse. I bet it on a horse. A sure thing.

Once, I gave some money to my friend Steve, about whom I have written before, to run an errand for me.

I don't remember the details surrounding that now. Maybe I had to work a double shift or something. Maybe that is why I couldn't run the errand myself.

Anyway, I gave this money to Steve and told him what I needed him to do with it — and he wound up betting it on a horse. I confronted him about that. I was angry about the way he had used my money after swearing to me that he would run my errand as I requested. Steve got a little defensive. I guess neither of us handled that matter terribly well.

I mention that now only because it is relevant to the episode of The Odd Couple that aired 40 years ago tonight. It was called "The Moonlighter," and it was about how Oscar had been given some money to buy season tickets to the Yankee games. He had gambled the money on "a sure thing" that turned out to be not so sure after all, and he was moonlighting at a diner to earn the money back.

His roommate, Felix (Tony Randall), was understanding about Oscar's predicament — until he learned it was his money that had been squandered. Well, actually, it was one of Felix's clients' money, but Felix had trusted Oscar with it, and he felt his trust had been betrayed.

Felix didn't like the idea of Oscar continuing to work in the greasy spoon at nights. He thought it would jeopardize Oscar's full–time job at the newspaper, and he suggested that Oscar work in Felix's photography studio to earn the money to cover the price of the tickets.

There was no real lesson to be learned from the story, I suppose. Felix was going to do a photo shoot with three beautiful girls, and he instructed Oscar that he was to treat them as "colleagues and co–workers" — which Oscar did, sort of.

The lesson, perhaps, came at the end when Oscar, to show his appreciation to Felix for his help and understanding, made a meaningful gesture.

Well, it was meaningful to Felix.

Oscar, the ultimate slob, had cleaned up his room.

Felix was stunned upon seeing it. "I'm very impressed," he told Oscar — until he lifted the bed cover to reveal Oscar's dirty clothes. Apparently, Oscar had just gathered them up off the floor and stuffed them under the bed cover until after Felix's inspection.

Same old Oscar.

Wednesday, January 01, 2014

A Ride on the Orient Express



Agatha Christie's "Murder on the Orient Express," which was published 80 years ago today, wasn't the first Agatha Christie book I ever read.

But it was one of the first, and it remains one of the best.

(It was the first Agatha Christie novel–inspired movie I ever saw, and I was, in turn, inspired to read the book after I saw the movie.)

Its primary inspiration was the kidnapping and murder of Charles Lindbergh's infant son in the spring of 1933. When Christie wrote the novel, the case was very much in the news. In the hands of a talented writer, such a case provided the revenge motive for the murderers.

Christie also was influenced in "Murder on the Orient Express" by another real–life event — the winter of 1928–29, said to have been the harshest winter Europe had experienced in decades. Blizzards and gale–force winds hammered the continent for weeks. Transportation was brought to a virtual halt by all the snow and ice.

The Orient Express was sort of a land version of the Titanic. It boasted luxurious accommodations and was believed to be infallible so, in spite of warnings from stations all along the train's route, its owners unhesitatingly gave the go–ahead to proceed from Paris to Turkey in late January; it was hindered all the way by snow and ice on the tracks. It did make it across the Turkish border but was stopped by huge snowdrifts. The passengers were trapped for days before realizing that help was not on its way, and they tunneled their way out, then crossed the snowy Turkish countryside in search of food and a place to sleep until help did come for them.

This was fairly typical of Christie — she often used real events as the basis for her stories but rarely as well. She made some changes to the facts, enough to make it her own story, and then threw in her usual twists and turns, just to keep the reader guessing.

And there was plenty of guesswork for the reader in "Murder on the Orient Express." Each of the passengers aboard the Orient Express had some kind of connection to the Armstrong family, which had lost its little girl, Daisy, and then suffered additional tragedies as a result of the initial crime.

Poirot, who happened to be on board the train, conducted the investigation and concluded that there were two possible resolutions: either a stranger had entered the train while it was stopped by snowdrifts and committed the murder, or everyone on the train (with the exception of Poirot) had participated.

The former was too easy for Christie's creative mind, so, for one of the few times in her writing career, Christie took an option that would permit the guilty to escape justice. All of the passengers on the train (including the conductor) wanted vengeance, and Poirot, having solved the case, permitted them to have it. He told the authorities that he had concluded that a stranger was responsible for the murder.

It was an interesting twist on the usual formula for a Christie novel. More often than not, she arranged for the least likely suspect to be the actual guilty party.

I guess a least likely suspect would be hard to choose in this case. There were several plausible candidates.