Game On!

whatsmyline

Game Show Network has brought reruns of What's My Line? back to their overnight line-up.  What's more, they've reached back for the earliest shows available, back to 1952, and will proceed sequentially from there, airing whatever episodes haven't been lost to posterity.  I like these shows, in large part for the chance to see celebrities of the day (last night's Mystery Guest was Walter Winchell) and to hear everyone talk about what was going on in the world at the time.

But I find it a bit disconcerting to realize that the show was, in a way, rigged.  I don't mean "rigged" the way the later "big-money game shows" were rigged, with Charles Van Doren and others being surreptitiously fed the right answers.  What's My Line? was a low-money panel show and its fun came not from seeing folks win but from seeing the panel fumble.  It's obvious in many cases that they were steered not to win but to fail; that is, they weren't told what the contestant's occupation was but that certain misguided questions would elicit laughs.  On the episode aired last night, a lady's occupation was that she hand-painted designs on men's underwear.  Steve Allen, supposedly posing queries at random, asked her…

"Is there an end product involved?"  (Big laugh at the use of the term, "end product.")

"Could I get along without it?"  (Huge laugh, in part over Allen's seeming bewilderment at why everyone found that so funny.)

"Would you be apt to find one or more of these objects in my living room?"  (Screams)

"If friends came to visit me, would they admire it?"  (More screams)

"Could you sit on it?"  (Likewise)

None of those would have been funny if the lady had made ash trays or grandfather's clocks which, at that point in the questioning, would have been just as likely as underwear.  Clearly, Allen was briefed and it appears that the non-comedian panelists were also set up with a few of these.  In his book on What's My Line?, its producer Gil Fates admitted that they did this (he called it "gambitting") but minimized its use and said Steve Allen never required any such briefing.  I think Fates is downplaying a tactic they used much more than he later liked to admit.

I've always wondered, hearing about the Quiz Show Scandals and how they hauled Van Doren and Dan Enright before Congress, why that selected bit of televised dishonesty bothered anyone.  Pro wrestling has a fifty year history of lying to the American people, and talk shows habitually pretend a walk-on celeb was unexpected, or that the host just happened to ask a question for which the guest had a terrific corresponding anecdote.  An awful lot of what passes for spontaneity is scrupulously planned and even rehearsed.  Somehow, if you don't call it a "quiz show," you can get away with just about anything.

What Can Browne Do For You?

raisingduncan01

Raising Duncan is a fun newspaper strip concocted by Chris Browne, who also still continues Hagar the Horrible, which was created by his father, the late Dik Browne.  Both are always worth a peek but there's something of (possibly) special interest about Raising Duncan as of today.  Before, Chris drew on paper with ink.  Starting with the 9/23 strip, he's drawing on computer — on a Wacom tablet, feeding info into Adobe Photoshop 6.01.  Looks just as good as ever to me.

Bush Whacking

Speaking of verbal gaffes: You've all heard G.W. Bush's stumble the other day.  I don't think it'll have quite the lasting persistence of the footage of Bob Dole falling off the stage or the recent all-time champ…Bill Clinton wagging his finger.  But as a clip that reduces our opinion of a public figure, it will have its impact.  If you haven't seen it — and/or would like to see a funny packaging of it — check out what The Daily Show with Jon Stewart had to say.  Click here if you have a high-speed Internet connection and here if you're connecting to the web via a Dixie cup and a string.

I am of two minds about this kind of thing.  On the one mind, it's funny and the public certainly has a right to see its leaders at their worst.  On the other, I think we pay way too much attention in this country to little matters unrelated to job performance.  If someone wants to think a public figure is inept based on an economic program or specific job-related deeds, fine.  But the public discourse these days has a tendency to dwell on little slips and gaffes, or even on normal speech and deeds that can be sold as dumb or dishonest, and to characterize entire human beings that way.  During the '88 election, the previous Geo. Bush spoke of trying to "define" his opponent, Mr. Dukakis.  That always struck me as a euphemism for selling the public on an unappealing, and not necessarily accurate caricature.  Dukakis, riding around in tanks and ignoring the wilder charges, seemed determined to live down to that definition.  Bob Dole was not as old as some thought and I actually know people who didn't vote for Al Gore because they thought he'd claimed credit for creating the Internet…

I don't think George Bush is the dummy his foes make him out to be, but I also don't think he's the brain that his supporters are trying to convince everyone (themselves, included) we all want in the White House.  If there were an eloquent, committed Democrat out there speaking clearly against current policies, Bush would be two years from heading back to Texas to enjoy the perks of having made billions for crony capitalists.

Lucky for him, there's not much chance of that happening.

Sunday Evening

Emil Sitka was to the Three Stooges what Margaret Dumont was to the Marx Brothers or Jimmy Finlayson was to Laurel and Hardy: A terrific supporting player who added much to their comedies.  He almost even became a member of the troupe.  When Larry Fine suffered a stroke in '70, it was announced that Sitka would take his place in the team.  Publicity pix like the one above were taken but this configuration of Stooges never performed anywhere.  Learn more about the man they call "The Fourth Stooge" at — where else? — www.emilsitka.com.

Conan O'Brien was a fine Emmy host.  The rest of the show was the way these things always go and I've decided to stop expecting anything different.  A long award show is a long award show is a long award show.  It's best when you watch the opening, then take a walk down to Koo Koo Roo and have the turkey dinner while your TiVo records the thing.  Then go home and watch with a liberal application of the 30-second skip.

I have no other comments except that it struck me as inexplicably funny that Tom Hanks said, "It is my honor to present the first recipient of the Bob Hope Humanitarian Award to Oprah Winfrey."  I had this mental image of him handing Oprah Winfrey to Oprah Winfrey.

Stage News

Breaking news from Pittsburgh: The "f" word is back in The Producers.  A nation exhales.

To further my endorsement of the aforementioned production of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, I've bought tickets to see it again before it closes.  And I should have said more about the terrific supporting cast.  There's a fellow named Scott Dreier playing Hero and somehow managing to be very funny but still sympathetic in one of the tougher roles.  A few years back, I saw Dreier playing Seymour in the same company's production of Little Shop of Horrors and he absolutely nailed the role.  And playing the ingenue is a lady named Misty Cotton who got laughs I've never seen anyone else get in that role.  Anyway, as you can tell, I really liked this show.

Set the TiVo!

The Emmy Awards are tonight…another ceremony to which I think people attach way too much importance. I especially get dismayed when folks act like voting for "Best Performance" is some sort of exact science; like it's a crime against nature if the "right" guy doesn't win. When we vote for president or senator or congressperson, it's a much more refined procedure involving a far greater sampling of opinions…and, half the time (most of us would agree), the wrong guy comes out on top. I don't know why anyone expects the Emmy Awards — selected as they are by small panels of anonymous judges — to yield a higher degree of "right" choices. I especially love the after-the-fact, easy explanations for what a group of disparate strangers were trying to say.

I'll be watching for Conan O'Brien who is apparently good enough to host but not good enough to get nominated. But I'll bet you he'll be good…and I'll bet you that, next year, his show gets a nomination.

Another Great Show Biz Anecdote

Jack Lemmon was filming his first movie, It Should Happen To You, co-starring Judy Holliday with direction by George Cukor. Things seemed to be going fine except that after each take, Cukor would say, "Fine, Jack…but let's do one more take and give me less." In other words, tone down the performance.

For days, it went like that. After every take, Cukor would say, "Great, but give me less. Less." Lemmon did as told but with an increasing resentment.

Finally, there came a scene where Lemmon felt he'd really nailed it. When Cukor yelled "Cut" and then asked the actor to do less, Lemmon exploded. "For Christ's sake," he yelled. "Are you telling me not to act?"

Cukor put his hands together in a pleading gesture and said, "Oh, please, dear God, yes."

Lemmon later called it, "The best lesson in acting I ever got."

The First Superman

Ray Middleton

A friend (whose name I won't mention since I'm about to tell him he's wrong) wrote with a thought about Mayo Kaan, the Superman impostor mentioned in this item here.  Might Mr. Kaan, he asks, have been the person who played Superman at the 1939-1940 New York World's Fair?  Answer: No.  DC Comics did a lot of promotion in accord with that expo, including "Superman Day," an event that involved an actor named Ray Middleton parading about in what was probably the first-ever Superman suit.  Being the first person to ever play the Man of Steel — that is, assuming Mayo's claim was bogus — was a great honor but it was by no means the greatest achievement of Ray Middleton.  He later had a pretty impressive career on Broadway.  He was the original Frank Butler in Annie, Get Your Gun, playing opposite Ethel Merman's Annie Oakley, and he can still be heard on the cast recording.  He had two roles in the original production of Man of La Mancha and was also in South Pacific, Love Life and Roberta, to name three of many others.  He made a few film appearances, including a role in our favorite, 1776, and did a lot of TV jobs, including a recurring role on Too Close for Comfort.  He passed away in 1984.

Rick Scheckman seems to know everything I don't…and man, is that a lot to know!  Anyway, he writes that the Fred Allen/Jerry Siegel spot posted earlier in the same item is from the 10/9/40 episode of Mr. Allen's radio program.  This installment is apparently among the sad number of shows which have been lost…i.e., there are no known copies of the entire program.  So by saving that clip for promotional use, someone saved a moment of history that would otherwise be gone for good.

Protesting Cancellations

In a posting here the other day, I responded to a newsgroup discussion in which my friend Pat O'Neill was advancing what I considered illogical theories of comic book marketing.  The discussion in that newsgroup continues and, in a subsequent message, someone else was discussing protests when your favorite comic book gets cancelled.  That person, Ron Saarna, wrote, "…fandom can make a difference to the bean-counters.  It just needs to be focused, or organized for those that have the desire."  I don't disagree with this but I wrote the following in response…

For whatever it's worth, I don't think it needs to be all that organized or focused. If your favorite comic book or TV show (or whatever) is cancelled, express your unhappiness via polite letters.  And I would add that I think one paper letter has the impact of 100 e-mailed letters and 1000 names on e-mailed petitions.

Someone has made the decision to cancel the comic or show.  It's possible that this is an overwhelming decision with which most of the involved parties concur. In this case, your letters will bring warmth and comfort to the folks who brought you the comic or show but it probably won't reverse the cancellation.

It's also possible that the cancellation is still at an arguable stage, and some folks within the organization are still debating it or aren't certain what to replace it with, yet. In this case, the letters give ammo to those arguing to reinstate, and they provide moral cover to those who would have to change their minds. If you advocate canceling a project and you're looking for a way to reverse your position without losing face, it can be helpful to be able to say, "We're bowing to an avalanche of mail."

To clarify the differences here: I believe that when Star Trek was cancelled by NBC after its second season, Paramount and Gene Roddenberry still wanted to keep it going, and NBC really didn't have anything to replace it about which they felt that confident. So in that case, a pile of mail helped the network to decide they might as well keep it around. (It also probably convinced them that the audience might be loyal enough to follow it to a rotten time slot.  The network had one that then needed filling.) After the third season however, I believe not only did NBC decide the show would never catch on but both Paramount and Roddenberry had decided it was a lost cause and that they should invest their time and deficit financing elsewhere. So in that case, all the protests in the world probably would not have made a difference.

Actually, I think the main reason people write letters is because it makes them feel less helpless. But that can also be a good reason.

Pretty Little Picture

For many years, the best-kept secret about theater in Los Angeles — apart from the fact that there is any — has been the Civic Light Opera of South Bay Cities.  This is a company that operates out of the Redondo Beach Performing Arts Center for larger plays and the Hermosa Beach Playhouse for smaller ones.  (Redondo Beach and Hermosa Beach are both closer to L.A. than a lot of Angelenos think.  Folks who think nothing of going downtown to the Music Center to see a show might recoil at the notion of shlepping to Redondo Beach to see one…but, depending on where in L.A. they live, Redondo Beach might mean less travel time.)

The C.L.O.S.B.C. stages wonderful productions of mostly-classic plays for short runs that often surprise with their production value and professionalism.  I've seen more than a dozen shows in their larger venue and, while some aspects of a few seemed a bit community-college, they occasionally work miracles.  They achieve quality far beyond what one could reasonably expect from a revival that is mounted for less than two dozen performances, primarily for subscribers.

One of the reasons this happens — surely, the main one — is the company's Executive Director/Producer, a flamboyant, passionate gent named James Blackman.  And among the miracles he achieves is that he prefaces each performance with a little monologue that belies an old show biz adage.  That's the one that holds that when the boss comes out and makes a speech before the show, he can't help but get the evening off to a screaming stop.  Au contraire, Mr. Blackman is funny and friendly and you can't help but feel that a lot of attendees renew their subscriptions each year because they know James won't let them down, and don't want to let him down.  Another great thing is that he seems to be able to compensate for the short rehearsal times by securing directors and actors who have done the show (whatever show they're doing) before and know it inside and out.

Which brings us to their new production of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, which I saw in previews last night.  It opens tonight and runs through October 6.  The book of Forum, by Burt Shevelove and Larry Gelbart, is maybe the funniest thing ever written for the stage and the score by Stephen Sondheim is wonderful.  It's my favorite musical and I've seen at least 25 productions, ranging from the Phil Silvers revival and the one with Nathan Lane, all the way to a Vegas production with Alan Young to which they added tit jokes and Liberace references.  I've seen high school productions, college productions, even one (see here) in which the entire milieu was transformed from Roman to Polynesian.  The C.L.O.S.B.C. production would surely rank near the top of the list.

Much of this is due to its star, a gent named Bob Amaral who is absolutely terrific as Pseudolus.  In the recent Broadway revival of the show, he was the stand-by for its various stars — Nathan Lane, Whoopi Goldberg and David Alan Grier.  Reports were that he was at least as good as Lane and easily better than the other two.  I can well believe it.  But the rest of the cast down in Redondo Beach pretty much comes up to his standard, including Larry Raben as Hysterium, Kevin Cooney as Senex and especially Robert Towers as Erronius.  The production, by the way, was directed by Will MacKenzie and choreographed by Sha Newman.

Most of you reading this live too far from Redondo Beach to get down there before October 6.  Some of you who are local will think "Redondo Beach?  That's too far" and not go.  A select few of you will visit the C.L.O.S.B.C. website, procure tickets, and have a wonderful time.

Cancelled Too Soon

I have this friend named Pat O'Neill.  We get along fine in person and on the phone.  Nice guy.  On various discussion forums on the Internet, however, I rarely agree with him and often strenuously disagree to the extent where people write me and say, "Boy, you must hate Pat O'Neill."  I don't.  I don't think I "hate" anyone in this world…but if I did, it would have to be for something a lot more offensive than posting things I utterly disagree with in newsgroups.

I mention this because I'm about to disagree with Pat again.  The other morning, over in the rec.arts.comics.marvel.universe newsgroup, he posted the following…

Most commonly on these groups any decision a publisher makes that cancels a "critically acclaimed" title whose sales are in the toilet is derided.  In general, these groups act as if publishers were in business to publish the GROUPS' favorite comics, as opposed to publishing the comics most likely to be profitable.

Pat is right and wrong about this…and I should add that I was, as well, since I used to say almost the exact same thing in fanzines when someone would start weeping that their favorite funnybook had been axed.  But I think I was at least partly incorrect for two reasons, one large and one small…

One is that, first of all, a fan has every right to complain when something he likes is taken from him.  Such passions ought to be balanced with a little pragmatism and awareness of how things have to work in the Real World, true.  But I think it's unfair and probably unwise to demean or attempt to change that passion.  You can't expect someone whose only relationship to a work is as Enthusiastic Audience to suddenly snap to the mindset of one of the bean-counters in the accounting department…nor should they.  What a cold, unenjoyable media it would be if we all had to hook our sympathies up to the financial end of things and to accept every decision as a calculated profit/loss reality.  If I love something, I shouldn't have that love trampled by the business department expecting me to view it through their eyes.

That's the small reason.  The larger is this: When a publisher cancels a "fan favorite" comic book due to poor sales, there's a very good chance that publisher is wrong…often in the long term and sometimes even in the short term.

An amazing number of times — too often to dismiss as flukes, I believe — a publisher has cancelled The Invincible Flurp and all the Flurp fans get up in arms and protest, and the publisher says, "Don't you [idiot] fans realize that this is a business?  That Flurp sales are in the crapper and we're losing money and that we're not in business to lose money?"  And in the long run, with hindsight, there is ample evidence that the publisher simply gave up too quickly on a comic that might have built a new and profitable audience had the company stayed with it longer or done a better job of marketing.  (It has also been the case, though some have denied it, that someone in the office simply misread the numbers and terminated a profitable title, or killed one deliberately because of personal issues with its makers.  I don't think anyone will ever admit that in print, at least about themselves, but almost anyone who's been in the business for any length of time will tell you it's happened.)

Throughout comic book history, publishers have often been way too short-sighted and timid and terrified of losing even a very modest amount of money on new product.  At times, the financial risk in publishing the established sellers becomes so non-existent that they cannot bear to assume even a microscopic risk to publish something new.  Something different comes along and they don't know how to sell it and are afraid to try.  Usually, it works like this: Super-hero books are selling decently and, in a moment of uncommon wisdom, someone says, "We need to expand the audience and reach folks who don't like super-hero comics," so they launch some non super-hero comics, often with great confidence and a determination to build and nurture another marketplace.

That's until the first sales figures come in on the non super-hero comics and they don't immediately yield the guaranteed profits of the super-hero books.  Then someone has a panic attack and, without waiting for the folks who don't like super-hero comics to have time to find the new, non super-hero books, the publisher says, "Wait a minute!  Why am I publishing these when I could sell more comics per month by replacing them with super-hero titles?"  That has happened way too many times, despite the fact that the potential loss, even if the new books never catch on, is not all that great.  It also happens despite the facts that…

A. There are dozens of cases where a new comic was declared a flop and then, for reasons other than the publisher believing in it, it was brought back or continued a little longer…and it became not just a hit but a huge hit.  Marvel Comics' two biggest properties — Spider-Man and the Hulk — were both initially and prematurely declared failures and were cancelled.  And had we been around then and protested those cancellations, someone at the company could have said precisely what Pat O'Neill said above.  Later on, the publisher declared the then-new Conan the Barbarian comic an utter failure and actually did say what Pat said when fans protested its probable cancellation.  But as with Spidey and Greenskin, the Barbarian stuck around long enough to develop and show a following.

B. Sometimes, the sales of the comic book itself are only part of the story.  All the major companies have published comics that were, going strictly by this month's sales, unprofitable…but because the property was licensed for a movie or toy deal, loads of cash rolled in.  There were many years where Wonder Woman was technically losing all kinds of money on the newsstand but that comic served as a very effective loss-leader for very lucrative merchandise.

C. There are also dozens of cases where, years later, a cancelled comic still has a loyal following.  No one can ever prove that Bat Lash (to pick one example of dozens) would or would not have found an audience had it run another year or so but, given the extent to which people still recall it fondly, you have to wonder.  More to the point, some abruptly-cancelled comics are probably analogous to a movie that is declared a flop at the time of its debut but which, in re-release, proves to be enormously popular and profitable.  DC, for instance, has made an awful lot of money reprinting the old Denny O'Neil/Neal Adams issues of Green Lantern-Green Arrow which, back in 1971, was declared a money-loser that had to go.  Some don't think it was unprofitable then but, even if it was, the foreign sales and reprints have since made it one of the more lucrative things DC published that year.  Had they kept it going, it would have been a very good investment.

This is not unique to comics.  TV networks are often too quick to cancel a show if its initial ratings do not soar.  Seinfeld, which may turn out to be the most profitable live-action TV show of all time, was — like Spider-Man or Hulk — an "immediate flop" that many of the business-types wanted to junk, and might have.  The TV version of M*A*S*H, which may be the current holder of the "most profitable of all time" medallion, was definitely in that category, as well.  (I once worked for a producer who kept on his wall, a framed memo from a high executive at Paramount.  Going by early ratings, the exec was declaring Cheers a bomb and asking if the studio's lawyers could extricate them from having to produce any more episodes.  Next to it was framed a then-recent statement of the show's grosses, which of course made the first memo look even stupider.)

Fact is — and I'll bet it's the same in almost any field — business decisions are not always firm, intractable judgments.  A creative field like comic books is probably especially subjective.  The folks who have to decide what to publish and what to cancel might like to pretend that they have no choice…that they're only going by the numbers and you can't argue with them.  But you can.  Like William Goldman says of the movie business, "Nobody knows anything."

If you love a comic book and the publisher kills it, don't let anyone tell you you're naïve to protest or lament its passing.  Worrying about the profit or loss of the company is the company's job, not yours.  And besides, there's a very good chance that even as a dollars-and-cents decision, they're wrong and you're right.

The King of Broadway…in Pittsburgh

The touring company of The Producers, starring Lewis J. Stadlen and Don Stephenson, has opened in Pittsburgh.  Being familiar with Mr. Stadlen's formidable comedic abilities, I am even more interested in this than in the announced Los Angeles company which will star Jason Alexander and Martin Short.  I'll probably catch them both…and I still have to get back to New York and see Brad Oscar and Steven Weber.  So I have a lot of probably-great Max Bialystocks still to see.

Here is a link to an opening night review of the new production.  And here's a link to another review, which does not seem to be based on opening night.  It is curious to note the report that the show has dropped the "f" word, heard in one number on Broadway and on the cast album.  Does someone think that audiences who come to see a show about a Nazi musical and a cross-dressing Hitler are going to be offended by that word?  In Pittsburgh?  Also, it seems that Lee Roy Reams, who has the showy role of the drag queen Fuhrer, missed opening night.  This is of interest because The Producers is, after all, about stars missing their opening night performances and life has already imitated art once with an understudy taking over for the star on a permanent basis.  Sure hope Mr. Reams is okay.

me (sorta) on the funnypages

Several folks in e-mail are assuming that Jim Davis — with whom I have worked for more than ten years — had me in mind when he came up with a name in today's Garfield strip.  I'm assuming that, too.

Links of Note

Good article on Conan O'Brien over at The New York Observer.  Here's that linky-poo.

For those of you interested in the sordid saga of Stan Lee Media (a company for which I briefly labored), a publication called Insight Magazine has a cover story this month on Peter Paul, the financial mastermind of the operation.  I don't guarantee any of its facts but if you want to read it, here's your link.  Thanks to Jeff Elkins for the tip.

Arianna Huffington makes some salient points about the attitude of George W. Bush and brother Jeb about drug use in America.  Here's that link.

Kaan Man

I haven't seen it mentioned anywhere but I have it from a usually-reliable source that Mayo Kaan passed away in mid-July at the age of 88.  Now, who (you may be asking yourself) was Mayo Kaan?  That's what Jerry Siegel — co-creator of Superman — was asking when Mr. Kaan began publicizing himself as the model for the Man of Steel.  Around 1970, the Boston-based bodybuilder began selling photos like the one at left which he claimed were taken in 1936.  Siegel and his artist-partner Joe Shuster supposedly hired the gymnasium owner to model for the new comic character they'd just invented and they even worked with him to fashion a costume.  There were a few holes in Kaan's story, not the least of which was that neither Siegel nor Shuster had ever heard of him, nor had either traveled to Massachusetts anywhere near the time the alleged modeling was done.  (Another problem, noted by a Boston newspaper at the time, was that in one of the photos, Kaan was posing in front of a building which wasn't built until 1940, two years after Superman debuted.)

Kaan's claim upset Siegel and Shuster, and some of us did some phoning-of press services and reporters and pretty well debunked the whole story.  A few years later, the muscleman surfaced again with ads and p.r. materials about how he'd been the model for Superman, how you could now purchase a signed photo of him, etc.  Again, the forces of Truth, Justice and the American Way descended on the guy and he retreated…which is, of course, something the real Superman would never do.