On August 16, Cartoon Network is running a 12-hour marathon of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck cartoons, including those that pit the two of them against each other. Here are some details and a complete list.
Monthly Archives: August 2003
Comic Artist Website of the Day
The late Mike Roy (not to be confused with the very-much-alive Mike Royer) was a veteran comic artist whose work dated back to Lloyd Jacquet's Funnies, Inc. and work with Sub-Mariner creator Bill Everett. Roy's name is probably not known to most comic fans. He worked, sometimes ghosting for others, on a number of newspaper strips and on comics that didn't give credit, mainly for Dell and Gold Key. He died in 1996 but someone's set up a website to recall his work and to sell his last creation, a graphic novel about Native Americans. Never met the man but I always admired his handiwork.
Comic Website of the Day
Pete Barbutti holds (and I guess will always hold) the record for the most stand-up appearances on The Tonight Show back in the Carson era. Johnny loved the way Pete told a story and Johnny's band loved the rather warped things Pete would do with music — like pounding out a tune with his nose or playing a song on the cigar. As I found out when I got to know him a few years ago, Pete's an even better storyteller off-stage. You can savor a few samples over at his website. If you have two minutes (and RealPlayer installed), enjoy the joke about The Pig With the Wooden Leg. Matter of fact, enjoy any of the jokes he has posted and if you can find the page of video clips, watch Pete in action on The Tonight Show. He sure makes me laugh.
You Never Forget Your First Play
My Fair Lady was the first real musical comedy I ever saw performed live on a stage. This is discounting a couple of "kiddy theater" productions I saw at an earlier age which failed to entertain me or, insofar as I could tell, anyone else on the premises. I remember a probably-unauthorized musical version of The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins I saw when I was around seven that was so low-budget, they were short 499 pieces of head gear. A lady was playing Bartholomew and she kept doing inept sleight-of-hand to make it appear as if new chapeaus were magically appearing on her head, but she didn't fool anyone. We all knew she wasn't a boy and that it was the same hat, over and over and over.
A few other such plays failed to get me interested in theater. Fortunately though in 1961 when I was nine, my mother took me to see the touring company of My Fair Lady at the Biltmore Theater in downtown Los Angeles. A gentleman named Michael Evans — who spent much of his career playing Henry Higgins in various productions — played Henry Higgins, while research has suggested that Liza was played by either Caroline Dixon or Anne Rogers.
Anyway, I'll tell you what I remember of the experience. I remember my mother briefing me for days about what I was going to see, explaining and perhaps over-explaining the story. I also remember going there with a certain familiarity with the songs, inasmuch as my folks played the cast album over and over and over. I still own their copy of that record and it's a wonder you can even get a sound out of the thing today, so worn down are the grooves. I remember getting dressed up for the event and I remember my father, for God knows what reason, dropping us off at the theater and picking us up later, rather than coming in with us. Most of all though, I remember The Orange Drink.
At the time, it was apparently quite customary for legit theaters to sell orange drink at intermission. I assume they had alcohol and soft drinks but one could also purchase a certain orange-hued beverage that they all sold — or at least, they sold it at the Biltmore. For days before we attended, my mother not only told me about the show but explained that at intermission, she would buy me this terrific orange drink. I realize now she was very worried that I would find My Fair Lady an utter bore but she figured, I guess, that I would at least enjoy the orange drink. I heard so much about it that I began thinking, "This must be some orange drink" and presuming that it was so special, you could only get it if you sat through an entire musical comedy.
Our seats were high in a balcony, several kilometers from the stage and all the way on the left. I sat there in my suit and tie all through the first act, trading off with my mother on using a pair of very old binoculars she owned. I enjoyed the show a lot but my mind kept drifting to thoughts of the wonderful orange drink I would be savoring at intermission. When the moment finally came, my mother took me out to the lobby and bought me a small carton, like a milk carton, of what turned out to be a pretty mediocre orange drink. It was very much like Kool-Aid — sugared water with artificial coloring and flavor, and I didn't particularly want to drink it but figuring it was part of the ritual of the theater, I did. For all I knew, the second act couldn't start until every child in the place finished his or her orange drink.
As it turned out, I liked the show a lot more than the orange drink. And it's funny what you remember from an experience like that. I remember the "Wouldn't It Be Loverly?" number with the buskers pushing Liza around stage on a flower cart and whistling. I remember Alfred Doolittle and three other characters singing, "With a Little Bit of Luck." I remember Doolittle doing, "Get Me to the Church on Time" and in it, I vividly recall Doolittle in his tuxedo saying goodbye to someone. He did an elaborate gesture of removing one of his gloves so he could shake hands. Then he shook with the still-gloved hand. Then he put the glove back on the hand from which he'd removed it. Big laugh.
It all added up to my first real memory of the theater. It was many years after that I began attending on an even semi-regular basis but when I did, something connected with that first experience. First time I took in a show on Broadway, I found myself flashing back to that balcony at the Biltmore and thinking, "This is the same wonderful experience." Maybe it was even better. On Broadway, they don't make you drink the rotten orange drink.
Doonesbury Watch
Last Friday's Doonesbury cartoon was one of those that some newspapers considered not running. Apparently, most but not all did run it. The controversy was over the fact that the word "sucking" was used to describe something being really, really bad. ("Suck" is one of those really awkward questionable words because so much depends on its context. If you're talking about a vacuum cleaner or a drinking straw, no problem. If you're talking about a movie sucking or a TV show sucking or a meal at Denny's sucking, some folks get worried that you're alluding to oral sex.)
Today's Doonesbury summarizes what has a lot of us scratching our heads at the way things change depending on who's in power.
Running Out of "Hope" Puns
Over at his Oddball Comics page, Scott Shaw! shares a treasure from his collection: A copy of the first issue of the Bob Hope comic book, autographed by its artist, Owen Fitzgerald, and Mr. Robert Hope! Scott's devoting the whole week to Bob so check in there every day.
Recommended Reading
Here's another piece about Bob Hope. This one was written in 1943 by John Steinbeck. (Thanks to Lee Kifer for the pointer.)
Wouldn't It Be Loverly?
That's a song from My Fair Lady. It's also one of the things I was thinking during last night's one-performance-only of My Fair Lady at the Hollywood Bowl: Wouldn't it be loverly (or even lovely) if there were more of a middle-ground between an all-out, open-ended, high-budget Broadway or Broadway-style production…and a quickie "concert" presentation? Musical theater seems too often trapped in the extremes. Either a show goes all out, spends millions and everyone commits a year or two of their lives to it…or the actors do it very few times (sometimes, once) with bare bones sets and costumes. John Lithgow played Henry Higgins this evening and he was…well, I wouldn't say he was superb.
He stumbled over a few lines and forgot a few. At one point, he answered a question before it was asked and occasionally found himself a few beats behind in the songs. But for a one-time-only outing with minimal rehearsal, he was amazing. And if he had a few weeks of performances in the part, he'd have people saying he was as good as or maybe even better than Rex Harrison. Even as it was, it was one of the best evenings of musical theater my friend Carolyn and I have experienced in a long time.
What you see in these "concert" performances is, in essence, the first out-of-town tryout of a production. Tonight was the first time this cast had done the show before a live audience and, sadly, the last. Melissa Errico played Eliza Doolittle, Paxton Whitehead played Colonel Pickering, Kevin Earley played Freddie Eynsford-Hill, Lauri Johnson played Mrs. Pearce, and Rosemary Harris played Mrs. Higgins, and they were all good. But the real surprise was the guy with the least experience of any of them in musical theater: Roger Daltrey got every laugh there was to get in the role of Liza's father, the inestimable Alfred P. Doolittle. Obviously, director Gordon Hunt deserves a lot of credit for all of this but Mr. Daltrey's natural stage presence and style — so evident in his "other" musical career — sure served him well in this one.
I have a number of friends who've been in the stripped-down productions that groups like Encores and Reprise! do, where they have sparse rehearsals and a very limited number of performances. They all report a frustration when it ends because they're still growing in the roles and the show is generally getting better and better when, all too sudden, it's over. As an audience, we ought to be frustrated, as well. I'd love to see what John Lithgow could do as Henry Higgins with a little more chance to "find" himself in the part. I'd love to see this production done with real sets and higher-budget art direction. I'd especially love to be able to recommend you see it, but you can't. One shot and it's over.
Oh, well. It was nice while it lasted.
Hope Springs Eternal
A few folks on the Internet (like Daniel Frank) are out there defending Bob Hope's name. And even Slate, which ran Christopher Hitchens' piece on the man, has offered up another viewpoint, which is something they don't often do. This all strikes me as the meaningless end of the discussion. So what if some people didn't find Bob Hope funny? Some people don't find Richard Pryor funny. Or Monty Python. Or even this website. One of the things the Internet has brought into clear focus for us is that many human beings on this planet have a problem with differing tastes. If you say you don't like their favorite movie or TV show or book, they feel the urge to argue with you as if you have made a clear factual error and can be debated into seeing things their way. Recently, I had occasion to say to an acquaintance, "Why do you feel so threatened because I don't like Star Trek? My not liking it is not going to take it away from you. Can't you enjoy it despite the fact that I don't?" But the guy continued hectoring me to watch more episodes so that I might become enlightened and see the error of my ways. Opinions are fragile things that often crumble when they are held too firmly.
As I mentioned, Bill Maher's comments on Larry King Live the other day struck me as a more interesting bit of posthumous Hope-bashing, because they raise an issue of some substance. That is to what extent the media protects certain individuals while dishing up all possible dirt on others. The exchange was also interesting because Larry King obviously didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to argue with what Maher was saying about Hope's personal life because he knew (a) it was probably correct and (b) if he started arguing, Bill would just go on and on about it, perhaps naming names and telling stories. But Mr. King also didn't want it said that he endorsed or agreed with what his guest was saying. So he said nothing…
MAHER: …I'm always curious — you know, I don't want to tap dance on someone's grave, but I'm always curious why the press protects certain stars and not others. I mean, Bob Hope, you know, is known…
KING: Well, when he — when he spoke out about — in Vietnam, there — people were complaining about him.
MAHER: No, I'm talking about his reputation as a great family man.
KING: Oh.
MAHER: You know? I mean, he was one of the great dogs of all time who never spent a day with his wife. You know, I think there's a story about one of his kids saw him one time and said, Hey, that's Bob Hope. You know, when your kids are asking for your autograph…
KING: You think the press does cover for…
MAHER: For some and not others. I don't understand.
KING: All right, let's move on to Iraq.
Notice: Not a word out of Larry King on a topic that he knew was radio-active. I suspect we will see much the same discussion somewhere when Ronald Reagan dies but in that case, Republicans will take up arms and scream about "revisionism." The image of Reagan as a man of character and integrity has been too valuable to some as a political tool and as a security blanket. (You just know that somewhere at Republican HQ, there's a whole media campaign planned out for if Reagan passes away before the '04 election: "Honor the Gipper's memory by voting for Bush.")
Comic Book: The Movie
Everyone knows Mark Hamill is a terrific actor, both on-screen and voicing animation. He has now expanded his area of influence and turned director with Comic Book: The Movie, a largely-improvised docudrama shot in part at last year's Comic-Con International in San Diego and sneak-previewed at this year's. It's the tale of the world's biggest comic fan, Donald Swan (Hamill) as he attempts to direct a documentary about his favorite comic book of all time, Commander Courage and Liberty Ladd. Along the way, he encounters a wide array of fans and filmmakers as he attempts to do right by his heroes, which means saving them from what the Big Bad Movie Studio wants to do to them.
The cast includes Mark, Billy West, Jess Harnell, Roger Rose, Daran Norris, Lori Alan, Tom Kenny, Donna D'Errico, plus cameo appearances by Sid Caesar, Stan Lee, Kevin Smith, Bruce Campbell, Hugh Hefner, Debi Derryberry, Bill Mumy, Matt Groening, Chase Masterson, Gary Owens, Ray Harryhausen, Paul Dini, Peter David, Scott Shaw! and the guy who runs this website. Check here for more info. I haven't seen the thing yet but, me aside, it looks like a winner.
Hopeless Commentary
Elayne Riggs (who has a wonderful weblog, by the way) writes to suggest I write a response to the article Christopher Hitchens wrote for Slate, which says little more than that Bob Hope was never very funny. I don't think I will, and for two reasons…
1. Hitchens, like many authors of all stripes, has never struck me as particularly ingenuous. I think he writes that which he thinks is outrageous enough to get attention. His well-known hit piece on Mother Teresa was amazingly bald on substance, but it helped to cut Hitchens away from the herd. He sure never convinced me it had any other purpose. Coming out now and saying "Bob Hope wasn't a good comedian" is easy and irreverent and largely meaningless. So Christopher Hitchens — a man of no known credentials in the fields of comedy or entertainment criticism — didn't find the guy funny. So what? A gutsier, more substantive dance on Mr. Hope's grave is presently being performed by Bill Maher, who is now mentioning on talk shows what was well-rumored in Hollywood for years; that Hope's posture as a good husband and symbol of family values was, by and large, a fiction that the press helped him maintain. That the media does this for some and not others is a topic of some importance. But Hitchens' piece isn't important at all. It's just an article that claims he has better taste than the millions of people who laughed at Bob Hope.
2. Some criticisms aren't worth writing, let alone rebutting, and I've always felt "he isn't funny" is usually one of them. If a guy's on stage and people are laughing at what he's saying, he's funny. End of argument. It's like you measure two people, find that one is 6'1" and the other is 6'5" and then go on insisting that the first guy is taller. In terms of comedy, you can certainly criticize something as tasteless, derivative, plagiarized, condescending or cowardly…and Hitchens' assertions that Hope's moves were "safe and antique" are correct, but only with regard to recent years. Hope's early moves weren't safe. Breaking the fourth wall, mentioning the competition, riffing on his sponsor and other brazen things he did in radio and movies were anything but safe. By and large, they became safe about the time Hope reached Legend Status, but he didn't change his act. Everyone else just caught up with him.
Thereafter, sure, he did safe, offend-no-one material. That was what audiences wanted from him. They didn't want innovative and edgy, anymore than they want Tony Bennett to bag that San Francisco song and become a rapmaster.
I have never believed that success equals quality or even that it doesn't. But long-term success clearly counts for something, and it counts especially in comedy, where failure is painfully obvious. When no one laughs, you've failed. And when audiences laugh as much as they laughed at Hope, it's kind of pointless to dismiss him as "an unfunny man," which is why I don't want to take Elayne up on her suggestion.
Oh, wait. I guess I just did.
Kirby Website
As we all know, the late Jack Kirby was one of comics' few authentic geniuses — an amazing artist, an amazing thinker and a just plain wonderful guy. A lot of us have felt the responsibility to carry on his name and tell a new generation who he was and what he was all about. Stepping briskly to the forefront of that movement, claiming his birthright, is Jack's grandson, Jeremy. He doesn't draw but certain other virtues appear to be alive in the Kirby bloodline. We're discussing a couple of Kirby-related projects that you'll hear about soon enough and in the meantime, Jeremy has set up a website devoted to his grandfather at www.jackkingkirby.com.
He has some rare photos and artwork over there, a message board and all sorts of stuff. He even has a little marketplace where he's selling some prints and other items that were found in Jack's own files after he passed away. If you're interested in Kirby — and almost ten years after his death, more people than ever seem to be — you'll want to click on over to Jeremy's.
Question About the Comic Book Business
A week or so ago, some serious restructuring was done in the editorial division of the Marvel Comics Group. Why hasn't this hit the fan press yet?
Need a New Career?
My pal Michael Reaves suggests we might all want to sign up for The 3rd Annual Nigerian EMail Conference.
Gray Days Ahead
Gray Davis may survive as governor not because anyone likes the job he's doing but because enough Californians come to see the entire recall as a colossal waste of time and money. Today, Larry Flynt entered the race, as did Angelyne, a local glamour girl who is famous only for being famous. By the time voting day rolls around, they could be among the more qualified names on a ballot the size of the Yellow Pages. Also today, some state officials said that the cost of the recall, which already seemed high to some at $35 million, could reach $60 million or more. The stupider and more expensive this thing gets, the more folks are going to vote to retain Davis just to not see this procedure succeed.
This article in The Sacramento Bee suggests that it may have cost the anti-Davis forces between two and three million dollars to force the special election. That's not a lot of money especially when you start thinking of guys like Larry Flynt who — and this is not an exaggeration — have sometimes dropped that much on a trip to Vegas. Does anyone think that if he's of a mind to, Flynt couldn't (or wouldn't) throw a few million around to force a recall of any governor he chooses? The Recall Proponents spent a little less than two bucks a signature to get this thing moving. Suppose Flynt got a lot of cute Hustler models, put them in sexy outfits and sent them out to get petitions signed, promising three dollars a signature. Do we think they couldn't collect 900,000? If Davis is kicked out and Riordan gets in, Flynt could easily buy enough signatures to recall Riordan. And it'll be another 60 million for that one, if not more.
Davis announced today that if he beats back the recall, he won't seek reimbursement from the state for his expenses. He may be legally entitled to them but among the issues he's going to campaign on, obviously, is that the recall is wasting money that could have gone for education, building roads, etc. By saying what he said today, he avoids having his opponents say that it will cost millions to keep him. Why couldn't the man have been that shrewd with our money?
Like all of you, I don't think much of Gray Davis…though Bill Maher made some good points in this article last week. Davis is not wholly to blame for California's economic woes. He may be to blame for covering up some of the bad news at election time, and for not being smarter in preventing energy conglomerates from bilking the state. But there's plenty of bad economic news out there that can't be blamed on him, and probably can't be solved by anyone else in that job in the next few years. If he can sell enough Californians on that concept, he's safe, because a lot of people are going to vote to retain him just because they don't like the process.
And, oh yeah: He needs to have one other condition to win. He needs there to not be a vastly more-appealing Democratic candidate on the ballot. If there is one, Davis is probably toast.