Monthly Archives: December 2005

Following up on the item before last: Dr. Winchell called his invention the "Inverted Novelty Mask" and used it on his shows to play several different characters. One was named Oswald and another was named Mr. Goody-Good. And by "invention," I mean he actually held a patent on it. Here it is.

Tim Rutten on the Liberal and Conservative paranoia that infests too much of our media. [L.A. Times link]

The late, great Paul Winchell invented many things ranging from an artificial heart to…well, he had this wonderful gimmick he did on TV where he painted a face of his chin and turned the camera upside-down and if you ever saw it, you know what I'm talking about.

Today, the basic principle of Dr. Winchell's chin person invention is being used to offer joyous holiday tunes on the Internet. Go to this site and enter the name of your favorite carol.

I'm a big fan of both The Tonight Show and also its first host, the late Steve Allen…so naturally, I had to get Inventing Late Night: Steve Allen And the Original Tonight Show, a new and well-researched book by Ben Alba. Produced with the cooperation of Allen's estate and most of his surviving co-workers, it's a good look at the history of one of the most important shows (and enduring formats) ever on television. Since most of those shows are lost — no tapes, no kinescopes — a certain amount of the history has gotten lost in the process, and Alba does a good job of digging up as much as anyone probably could.

But the book is really more than a history. It's more of an advocacy brief for the premise that Steve Allen invented not only the late night TV talk show but darn near everything else in the areas of comedy, variety and interview. Others who've worked on such shows, including Jack Paar, Johnny Carson and Ed McMahon, are practically scolded for not sufficiently acknowledging their debt to Allen. The book actually makes a decent case that Allen — or perhaps in some cases, Allen and his staff — were the first to do many things on television, and I suppose one could argue for weeks as to how much of that was merely a matter of being the first to be noticed for bringing to TV, elements familiar from radio and other forms of entertainment. (I always thought Ernie Kovacs got a bit too much credit as a genius and visionary because he thought to do old silent comedy routines in a TV studio.)

Since I agree Allen has probably not gotten as much credit as he deserves, I can forgive a bit of overreaching, especially because Alba does a good job of also crediting those around him, such as writers and directors. The thing that may strike you as you read the book (here's an Amazon link if you'd like to) is how brave Steverino was. No one today would go out in front of so many people with so little preparation…and so little control. Leno and Letterman have dozens of writers to do an hour a night. Allen had two or three to do 115 minutes. Today's talk show host has everything planned in advance, including the alleged surprise walk-ons and screw-ups. Allen often didn't know what his staff had planned for him in the next segment. When your modern-day talk show host ventures into the audience, those audience members have often been pre-screened by the producers and told what to say and what not to say. Allen went out with a hand mike, picked someone at random and performed without a net. Alba's book made me wish I could see more of those shows…and that more shows today were like that.

Over on my sister site, Old TV Tickets, I've posted some tickets from Mr. Allen's Tonight. Tickets to the Paar, Carson and Leno versions will soon follow.

There's an obit on the wires for actress Argentina Brunetti that's headlined, "It's a Wonderful Life's Last Surviving Adult Cast Member, Argentina Brunetti, Dies at 98 in Rome, Italy." Here's a link to it.

But of course, we all know that's not so. Charles Lane was certainly an adult when he made the film — he was older than Ms. Brunetti, in fact — and he's very much alive. Mr. Lane will be celebrating his 101st birthday next month.

It got past me that last Sunday marked five years since I began blogging…and I don't think anyone even called it that then. It was "keeping a weblog" and mine was hand-coded (a primitive process, not unlike the way Gutenberg first set movable type) for the first half of its life.

It's an extraordinary experience…one that has made me new acquaintances and caused me to reconnect with old ones. It's also an amazing resource. If I ask a question here, I almost always get replies, many of them correct. I once asked a question about a movie and ten minutes later, I had an e-mail from the film's director — whom I'd never met — giving me what I later determined was the wrong answer. But I do get answers and if I start a campaign about anything here, I almost always get some response. I've received some very nice gratuities in the form of cash donations and some splendid gifts and goodies.

People sometimes ask, "Why do you blog?" And I must admit I sometimes wonder why some other folks bother to do it if they're not going to do it often enough to develop any sort of steady readership and Internet presence. One reason I do it is that with all the other things I write that are subject to the input of producers and editors and collaborators, it's pleasant to have something that is totally mine, right down to the website design and software configuration. Back when I used to draw more, it was fun to just sketch with no publication or marketplace in mind. This is fun in much the same way.

I do not recommend it for everyone. Like I said, I don't see much point in it if you're going to go to all the work to set one up and then only post every time Halley's Comet reappears.

You also have to constantly remind yourself that though it may feel like you're writing in a private diary, it's actually about the most unprivate thing one can do. I hit the "Publish" button and it's out there for the world to see and read and Google forever. Before any of us had websites, I used to run computer bulletin boards on which writers chatted about their craft. One reason I gave that up was that there always seemed to be someone who forgot that. Often — usually late at night, most often on Saturdays and perhaps aided by alcohol or drugs — someone would post something libelous or hysterical or way too personal…something that in the cold light of day, they really didn't want out there for all eternity with their name affixed. But they hadn't thought about that before releasing their emotions into cyberspace.

I've learned it's important to hit that "sweet spot" between bloodlessness and overstatement. You want to write what you believe in with some passion and conviction but not box yourself into a position you'll regret in six months. In spite of that, some people will read the most astounding things into what you post in clear, inarguable English…or will even respond to something you never wrote nor believed. One person for a time apparently didn't grasp the concept of links and was e-mailing me scathing rebuttals to articles on other sites, apparently believing that if he could start clicking my page and eventually reach some article he found offensive, I must have written that article. Some others who do read what I've written seem equally confused because I often don't take firm, I'm-right-and-you're-wrong positions. On the 'net, if you write that you're leaning towards some position, someone will invariably read that as if you said, "Anyone who believes otherwise is an idiot."

The best thing about blogging may be the feeling of connectivity it creates. If at 4 AM, I have a thought I want to share with my friends, I can get up, run in here to my office and have it up on the web by 4:10. If I then sit here and surf for ten minutes, I'll sometimes receive an e-mailed response from someone. Within twelve hours, a pretty high percentage of all the people I know will have read it, along with countless strangers, some of whom will become friends at least by a very loose definition.

If you're one of them by any definition, thanks for visiting here. I've enjoyed doing this for five years and I have no intention of stopping.

Our friends over at IGN FilmForce have a nice holiday treat for us…a clip from Q.I., which stands for "Quite Interesting," which is a funny and educational game show in Great Britain. The show is based on the principle that it's more important to be interesting and silly than to get the right answer, which is how some of us live our lives. Here's the link. Take a gander.

The first night of Deal or No Deal did fairly well in the ratings and the second night did even better. Tonight's episode is against weaker competition so I'm guessing it will do fine. It was a pretty good episode, too…though I wish its makers wouldn't do so many obvious edits. Also, much of what Howie Mandel says has been dubbed in later, usually to overexplain what's on the line at some key moment. On tonight's installment, they did more of it than they did on the first two shows — or at least, it seemed more obvious — and that further took away from the "live" feel.

If there's no sign of ratings fatigue by the time the week is out, NBC will probably order up more episodes — the producers are already searching for contestants — and all the networks will probably green-light some more Big Money Game Shows. So what does this mean on the Grand Scheme of Television?

Let's flash back a few years. In August of '99, ABC debuted Who Wants to Be a Millionaire with similar stunt-scheduling. It was an unexpected smash and quickly, we had more episodes flooding that network's schedule and imitations like Greed and The Weakest Link and Winning Lines and Twenty One and I can't remember them all, nor can you. Most failed rapidly and even the original Millionaire show got tired in a hurry. Still, for a brief time, the networks couldn't get enough of 'em. Why? Well, for one thing, they were pretty simple formula shows, easy to launch. With other kinds of programming, you have to worry about getting a good script each week and developing storylines and characters and maybe booking guest stars. The variables are a lot more complicated. But the real reason the suits upstairs will order game shows (and reality shows, as well) is that they like to think they can make themselves impervious to union uprisings. That was part of the thinking that got us all those game and reality shows then, and history may be starting to repeat itself.

The three big labor organizations in Hollywood are the Directors Guild, the Writers Guild and the Screen Actors Guild. Of these, the directors are the least likely to ever interrupt production. The DGA does not strike. (Well, they did once but it only lasted — I am not exaggerating — about 15 minutes.) Depending on who you ask, this is either because the DGA is wise and sage and knows how to work creatively with the producers…or because they know how to make a quick deal that undercuts the other unions. In any case, a DGA strike — if such a thing ever occurs — would not likely stop the taping of a show like Deal or No Deal. It might harm a show that needs a more sensitive hand in charge…someone skilled in story and characterization and nuance. But with a game or reality show, even if the union director were to go pound pavement, there would always be some technician who could slip into the chair, follow the real director's shot list and crank out what would seem like an acceptable episode.

So that leaves the writers and actors. Most game shows are not WGA-signatory, which means that they either employ non-union writers or they employ WGA writers but call them something else — segment producers or production staff or researchers or something — and argue that the guy sitting there writing dialogue and questions is not a writer. The WGA is challenging this via various avenues but hasn't gotten very far…yet. In any case, you could probably still go right on taping Deal or No Deal if the writers go on strike, as seems highly possible when the current contract expires in November of 2007. Hollywood has not seen a big, production-stopping strike, by the way, since the WGA went out in 1988.

What about actors? Deal or No Deal employs 26 models and they're probably all union members but, I dunno…call me crazy. I suspect that if you scoured Hollywood top to bottom, you could find 26 attractive women without SAG cards but with a burning desire to get on network TV…and you could replace the guy who plays The Banker on Deal or No Deal with the NBC parking lot attendant. So all they really have to worry about is Howie Mandel. Doing the show without him might be tough but not as tough as, say, trying to do Will & Grace without Will or Grace.

Now, I'm not suggesting here that NBC's interest in Deal or No Deal is because they expect a SAG strike soon. The current contract doesn't expire until July of 2008, which is the same time as the current DGA pact. Nor can they even assume that this particular series will be on their schedule then. But it got on the air, and may well become a series, in part because that's the current thinking at the networks; that at least one of those three unions — probably not the DGA — is going to go to war for long overdue gains, and it will not be a brief skirmish. So recently, there's been a renewed interest at the networks in cultivating reality and game shows, in part because, once again, they're smelling Big Strike a few years down the line. As when Millionaire debuted in a similar time of labor unease, someone is saying to someone else, "This is the kind of show we need to work towards."

Will this strategy work? Of course not. In fact, I'd be very surprised if there's anyone high up at the any of the networks who thinks they will not take a massive, crippling hit if they try to rely on "union-proof" shows. It's the Nuclear Option they know will result in massive, self-inflicted wounds…which doesn't mean they won't try it. In a future posting here, I'll try and explain why.

George F. Will takes what oughta be the Conservative view of the Bush spying matter. But in most cases isn't.

You know how this works by now. We give you links and descriptions of five websites. Four actually exist on the Internet. One is a shameful lie. You pick the shameful lie and you win a big cash prize. (That's another shameful lie. There is no big cash prize. There's no small cash prize, either. As a matter of fact, if you had any decency, you'd send us money.) Okay, here we go! Time to play There's No Such Website!

• Toastman – Maurice Bennett makes portraits of celebrities out of toast. He toasts slices of bread until each is proper color to lay into a mosaic.
• Ball of Paint – A couple in Alexandria, Indiana has created the world's largest painted baseball by applying over 19,000 coats of paint to one. Thank God they didn't waste all that time on something silly.
• The Center for the Prevention of Shopping Cart Abuse – You see them all around the city…discarded, claimed by the homeless, used to transport things other than groceries. It's about time someone did something.
• Buffo the Clown – He's the world's strongest clown, able to rip up telephone booths, juggle meat cleavers and even bench-press members of his audience.
• Shaker's Gallery – We've all seen sites that had great movies performed by Lego blocks. Are you ready for a site that reproduces the greatest works of Rembrandt, Da Vinci, Picasso and others on an Etch-a-Sketch?

And that's how we play There's No Such Website! If you'd like to be in our studio audience, write for tickets and tell us when you'll be in town. Good night!

Based on a couple of e-mails I received, I almost feel like I need to apologize for enjoying the second episode of Deal or No Deal, too. But I won't. We all like some things that in a more critical frame of mind, might bore or offend us…and I'm not even talking about "guilty pleasures," which I've always felt was a weasely way of viewing some things you enjoy. If you like it, just like it. Don't make excuses for liking it. Deal or No Deal is a game show calculated to hook the audience and draw them into the suspense, and it's well done. It's working on me, anyway.

One reason I perhaps relate to the game is that it parallels what I so often go through in my career at those chilling moments that it's time to negotiate the money for something. They offer you 100 and you think that's okay but you also think that if you say no to the 100, that will get you an offer of 150…but you just don't know for sure. Sometimes, after you turn down one offer, something happens and there's either no next offer or it's lower. It's happened to me every possible way: I say no to a weak offer and they go hire someone else. Or I say yes and find out later they would have gone much higher. I used to also go through something of the sort when I was card-counting and playing Blackjack. In addition to keeping all those aces and "plus twos" in my head, I had to continually wrestle with a simple question: I'm ahead a little. Do I quit now or press my luck and try to get ahead a lot?

Getting back to the first aspect: I wonder if the following ever occurred to the producers of Deal or No Deal. They have this shadowy figure on the set called "The Banker" who offers the contestants fluctuating fees to bail out. (In actuality, the actor who plays the role has nothing to do with the offers. When Howie Mandel picks up the phone to get a new price from "The Banker," he's talking to the producer.) But I wonder if they thought of making The Banker a real player in the proceedings — audible, if not visible — who'd attempt to psych out the contestant, perhaps working in a little Donald Trump hardball banter.

At every network, there's a Business Affairs department and it's filled with people who play this game every day…often, for amounts of cash far greater than anything that's going to be given away on Deal or No Deal. Sometimes, they play Good Cop, hinting that they're on your side. They're giving you the best terms they can but their bosses…well, you can never tell with those guys. They already think the offer is too high and have been eyeing someone cheaper. Then there's the alternate, Bad Cop approach, putting you down, jabbing at whatever vulnerabilities they sense. Once, I had a Business Affairs guy look me over and say, of the offer he had on the table, "I gather from your clothes, you need this pretty bad." Some of these negotiators are even more adept than that at hitting sore spots, saying things to stifle your bravado. I wonder if they ever thought of incorporating that into Deal or No Deal. They sure wouldn't have to look far to find people who can do it.

Anyway, I intend to keep watching Deal or No Deal. If you'd like to try your hand at a simulation of the game (minus the cute models and the tension imposed by real money), this page on the NBC website has a reasonable facsimile. I suspect you need to have seen the show to enjoy the online version, which I've now played about a dozen times, once actually getting to the point where there were two unopened cases, one containing a penny and one containing the million dollars. I went for broke and wound up with the penny…a situation not unfamiliar from a couple of investments I made in the past. Nevertheless, I couldn't help but think that the producers of the TV show are probably always praying for a contestant to reach that moment of decision. That would be good television no matter how it turned out…but better if they went home rich.

Recently, a new comic strip called Ink Pen introduced a superhero character named Captain Victory. It's a great name for a hero and it was a great name when Jack Kirby created a character with that name in 1981. As this article details, cartoonist Phil Dunlap has built a storyline out of the need to change the name of his cartoon hero. A very clever approach to the problem.

My friend and employer Jack Kirby was a lovely man but one capable of great anger at times. Every so often, I see something happen either in the comic book business or the real world and think, "Gee, I'm sorry Jack's gone but I'm glad he's not around to see that."

I just thought that when I read an item about Ted Stevens, the Senator from Alaska who thinks we should drill like crazy for oil in his home state, and that oil company executives should be allowed to testify before Congress without having to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but you-know-what. Jack was very pro-environment and against letting big corporations have unchecked power and I doubt there's much that Stevens has ever done that wouldn't have outraged him. But wearing a tie featuring one of Jack's characters while he did those things and taking inspiration from it…that really would have pissed Kirby off.

Here we see Groucho Marx — he's the one with the mustache — hosting The Hollywood Palace on March 14, 1964. The lady at left is the show's "Billboard Girl" who came out at the end each week to hand the host a list of who'd be appearing the following week. She was a then-unknown starlet named Raquel Welch. And this is my way of billboarding that I just posted some tickets and history of The Hollywood Palace over on our sister website, Old TV Tickets. If you're interested in that kind of thing.

Last year around this time, I pointed you to one of the cleverer bits of web animation I'd come across — a daily "Twelve Days of Christmas" cartoon with Garfield the Cat over at the Garfield website. Well, it's back up again and up to Day Seven. Take a look between now and Christmas. I had nothing to do with this.