Monthly Archives: December 2013

I was never a big fan of The Sound of Music on stage or screen. With the possible exception of South Pacific, the Rodgers and Hammerstein shows always strike me as well-written shows about people whose lives don't much interest me. But I sure like the idea of network TV airing musical comedies so I recorded and have now watched The Sound of Music Live.  The broadcast did great in the ratings…probably much better than any expectations.  NBC has announced that they will rebroadcast it on December 14, displacing a previously-scheduled airing of It's a Wonderful Life, and that there will be more such live presentations.

I thought they did a nice job. Carrie Underwood sang the songs well enough…but the role of Maria is kind of a dull one and it calls for an actress who can add loads of personality to the dialogue. That does not, alas, describe Ms. Underwood but I liked her and cringe at some of the reviews she received, scolding her for daring to not be Julie Andrews. (The write-up in Time pretty much came down to bitching that the show wasn't just like the movie.)

Everyone else was fine…and I'll overlook inauthentic racial casting any time it gets us Audra McDonald. If they were ever doing 1776, I wouldn't even mind if they hired her to play Mrs. John Adams.

Folks are speculating what show will receive this treatment next. If it were up to me — as of course it isn't and never will be — I'd opt for one of the many great musicals that is crying out for a faithful recorded production because the movie wasn't one. Doing The Music Man, as the same producers did for cable a few years ago, struck me as a pointless endeavor. The film was fine 'n' faithful…and if there was an actor around who could make us forget Robert Preston for two hours, it wasn't Matthew Broderick. Doing Bye Bye Birdie with Jason Alexander, as others did, was a better idea…or would have been if the original book of Bye Bye Birdie was more worthy of restoration.

My nomination will come as no surprise to my friends: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum…and being a comedy, it would have to be done with a live audience. That was something I missed somewhat with The Sound of Music. It just sounds wrong for some of those songs to not end with applause.

Forum is a great musical and one that on TV could easily best the movie version just by actually doing the book Burt Shevelove and Larry Gelbart wrote and including all the songs Stephen Sondheim wrote. It's also cheap enough to stage and shoot — one set! — so more money could be spent to assemble an all-star cast. Nathan Lane is the natural choice to star but there are other options. (Martin Short or Matthew Broderick as Hysterium? Andrew Rannells as Hero? John Goodman and Tracey Ullman as Senex and Domina? Audra McDonald as Miles Gloriosus?)

But they won't do my nomination. They'll pick a show with more familiar songs, and one that's strong on family and/or romance like The King and I or Camelot or Guys and Dolls. Guys and Dolls is another case where it wouldn't be hard to top the movie…and I still think someone should remake Damn Yankees with Christopher Walken as The Devil.

Or they may decide that they want to promote the show they do, as they did this time, by making a big deal out of the casting of children. In that case, we might get Oliver! or Annie. Those are two cases where I doubt they could improve on the movie versions but, hey, I'll take what I can get.

One last thing about The Sound of Music before we go to the video: Stephen Sondheim, in a recent book of his lyrics and the accompanying appearances, called attention to one particular lyric line by his mentor, Oscar Hammerstein. It's the mention in the title song of "A lark who is learning to pray." As Sondheim notes, that's to differentiate that lark from one who hasn't learned how to pray. It is a very silly phrase but it didn't strike me as such until Mr. Hammerstein's protégé began mocking it. As a result, I can never hear it again without a little mental giggle. And they sung it a lot in The Sound of Music Live.

Here's the best number from the show…

A couple of folks have written me to ask, "Hey, wasn't that Dick Cavett doing the voiceover for that trailer for The Producers?" I don't think so but some of it sure sounds like him. Actually, the first part of the V.O. sounds to me like New York announcer Mel Brandt trying to sound like Dick Cavett and the second part sounds like Dick Cavett trying to sound like Mel Brandt…which is not to say I'd bet that it's either of them.

Let's kick this around for a moment. The Producers was released on March 18, 1968. Dick Cavett's first daily talk show debuted March 4 of that year. We don't know if the trailer in question was done prior to the movie's release or some time later but even if it was done before, Mr. Cavett was probably rather busy prepping his new show…too busy to hop over to a recording studio for an hour to do a job that a thousand other SAG members in Manhattan could have done.

Then again, Cavett had done a number of radio spots with Mel Brooks before this. Then again, that trailer sure doesn't give the impression that Mel Brooks was involved in its making.

So I dunno. Would the friend of Mr. Cavett's who studiously reads this site like to ask him?

Steve Benen, like a lot of people, is outraged that many Republican governors have refused the state Medicaid expansion that Obamacare offers. Why? Well, I sure haven't seen one come up with a credible reason other than that they don't want to be caught cooperating with an Obama-approved plan. That it would help many of their state's residents and maybe even save some of their lives is apparently not a reason that trumps scoring political points.

I enjoyed darn near all of Six by Sondheim, the new HBO documentary about you-know-who…with two reservations. Or maybe "hesitations" would be the right word. Anyway, they're small.

One was that new music video rendition of "I'm Still Here" by Jarvis Cocker. If Mr. Sondheim liked that — and I'm assuming he did or it wouldn't have happened — I would love to hear why. The disconnect between performer and lyric has never seemed greater to me in any performance of a Sondheim tune. Cocker has style and talent but what he doesn't have is any relevance to that song. James Lapine, who helmed the documentary, said the songs were chosen to "serve the storytelling" of Sondheim's own story, and Sondheim himself often speaks of the importance of his songs as being true to character. How, I wonder, does that apply to that particular staging, casting and interpretation?

Okay, tiny quibble. Here's a little larger one. I love and respect Stephen Sondheim and I'm starting to worry. A lesser man's ego would have long since exploded with all these tributes and honors and, in some cases, fawning so out of proportion you question its sincerity. I do, anyway. But even if it is all earnestly meant…is this, like, the farewell testimonial for a guy who's never going to write anything again? Sounds like it.

Sondheim is 83 and still seems sharp. I'd like to think he has another show or two in him…or maybe more songs, not necessarily in the context of a full Broadway musical. Maybe not…and if not, fine. He's earned his retirement. But the only times I ever see or hear of him these days are when someone's kissing his ring. That is, after getting him to tell the story of the afternoon when Oscar Hammerstein taught him everything…an anecdote of his which has now had more performances than Follies.

Now, I happen to think the guy really is that great but I wonder how healthy it is for everyone to keep saying it. I know a guy who wrote a couple of Broadway musicals that had reasonable success and if you praised him like Sondheim gets praised these days, this fellow would never write another song as long as he lived. He wouldn't dare because no matter how good it was, it could never possibly live up to this reputation he'd have achieved. Or if he did do something, it would only be because all the honors had convinced him he was infallible and anything he did was good enough. When you have that attitude, you can't help but go down in flames.

I guess this isn't so much about Sondheim — a man I don't really know except as someone I admire. We've spoken a grand total of once for about a minute and maybe — and I hope this is so — he's immune to this. But I've met talented people whose work was, I suspect, damaged by being elevated to godlike status.

Either their belief in their own abilities reached a self-destructive mass…or they were paralyzed by the compliments, unable to create much of anything. One even said to me once, "Everyone thinks I'm a genius. And I will be, as long as I don't do anything that disappoints anyone." That's a heavy burden for a creative talent to shoulder. It's certainly a great reason to not try anything new — to either imitate your past successes or, to play it really safe, do nothing.

Sondheim doesn't owe the world any more than he's given us but it would be nice to hear more. It's not likely that anyone could revolutionize the musical theater yet again at his age…but if anyone can, he's the guy. The documentary was great. I'd like to think he will still do something that will make it not the final word.

Here's some video of everyone praising it and him at the preview party…

Samantha Schiebe, the woman who wanted George Zimmerman arrested last month for pointing a gun at her, now not only wants to drop charges against him but, they say, wants to get back with him. She's recanting her story…

She placed some blame on police for her previous version of the domestic dispute. "When I was being questioned by police I felt very intimidated," she wrote. "I believe that the police misinterpreted me and that I may have misspoken about certain facts in my statement to police."

In her 911 call, she can be heard very clearly saying he'd stuck a gun in her face. How did the police misinterpret that? Or how do you misspeak about that? Apparently, this woman was "intimidated" by having to talk to police but not by having a gun aimed at her.

Most of all, how does a relationship resume after one person has had the other person arrested and charged with aggravated assault, a felony, as well as with battery and criminal mischief? Either he pointed a gun at her or she lied or both occurred. In the world I live in, any one of those things is more than sufficient grounds for one or more likely both to scream, "Get this crazy person out of my life!"

The other day here, we told you that jazz trumpeter Jack Sheldon was back playing after a stroke that left many thinking he'd never play again. Here's Doug McIntyre with a report on the man's comeback. Thanks to my cousin David Evanier for letting me know about this article.

The TV network GSN will be running some old episodes of What's My Line? and I've Got a Secret starting December 18. They do this every year for, I guess, some sort of contractual reasons. I dunno which episodes they'll be running or if it'll last more than a week…but it's something. I've set my TiVo and we'll see what I get.

This fascinates me. I think The Producers — the original one, the one with Zero Mostel — is one of the ten-or-so funniest movies ever made. This is a trailer from, I believe, its initial release…a trailer that would never in a million years make me want to see this film. Whoever made it didn't think to include a single funny moment. He didn't think to include a shot of Lee Meredith in her bikini. There's no trace of Kenneth Mars…no shot of the audience staring in horror at the play…no scene of any real interest. Oh, but there is that terrible library music at the beginning. No wonder this picture didn't do the kind of business it deserved when it came out…

Badge registration for Comic-Con 2014 has been postponed 'til some time "early next year." The online process is being upgraded and that's all I know about this at the moment. There's probably some joke I could make likening that procedure to signing up for Obamacare but it's Monday and nothing is funny on Monday.

As I mentioned briefly here the other day, I'm now dealing with a bad left knee. My right one went kablooey! on me (torn meniscus) earlier this year and on June 24, I had it operated on. It's almost back to normal — still feels wrong but it doesn't hurt much — and now the left one has done gone and betrayed me. I have a torn meniscus there, too — one small tear as opposed to one big and one small I had trimmed in the right knee. And I had a Baker's cyst in the left knee. If you don't know what that is, just trust me: You don't want one even if you're a baker.

Note the use of the past-tense: "Had." The cyst ruptured on me two weeks ago. I even heard it pop as I was walking down some stairs, en route to the doctor who would deal with it. While I've never been shot in the kneecap with a .22 rifle, I have a feeling the sensation is comparable.

At the moment, my fine orthopedist isn't sure to what extent the pain I've been experiencing in the knee is because of the meniscus tear and to what extent, it's the remnants of the cyst and its influence. Even with my second cortisone shot in that joint, it ain't comfy. Of course, I probably didn't help matters any the other night by standing throughout the Beyoncé concert and walking between the parking lot and my seat.

This is all very fixable. I just thought I needed to explain why I had to bow out of my appearance on Dancing With the Stars. We had a helluva mambo prepared.

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People keep writing to ask when I'll have new comic books out. Well, most months, I write one or two stories for Boom's Garfield comic book. The ones I don't write are handled by a clever gent named Scott Nickel who works with Jim Davis. The current issue, which features Pet Force, is all written by him but I'll be back in the next.

Other than that, it's all waiting for the proper moment to announce things. I've finished my end of the long-awaited Groo Vs. Conan mini-series for Dark Horse and I hope to soon be able to announce a release date for it. Sergio is back to full fighting/drawing strength and we're working on some other Groo projects which will also soon be announced.

And I've finished the second issue of a new comic I'm doing for yet another publisher who should be announcing it any day now. It's one of those comics I've always wanted to write and someone was nice enough to give me the opportunity. And I have some other things, comics or otherwise, I'll tell you about when they're closer to coming out. That's if I don't forget, as I usually do. The great thing about doing comics is they're easy on the knees.

Henry Bushkin was Johnny Carson's lawyer and best friend for many years until, one day, he wasn't either of those things. As we've mentioned before, he has a book out which I've read some of and keep meaning to finish. I'll write about it here when I do but in the meantime, here's a recent interview of Mr. Bushkin and if you want to order the book from Amazon, here's a link for that. Thanks to Dana Gabbard for telling me about this…

101 Household Tips for Every Room in your Home. I wouldn't try the one about making grilled cheese in your toaster.

Our pal Kliph Nesteroff has found a review of the first time Johnny Carson hosted The Tonight Show. It was as a guest host for Jack Paar in May of 1958 and the critic found it "mostly dull" and said it would "never go down as memorable."

As you know well by now, my mother was Catholic and my father was Jewish. When they first spoke of getting hitched, they received so much condemnation from both families that they separated…and the woman who would be my mother went so far as to marry someone else within her own faith. That didn't work out and they ended up getting an annulment, which is just a divorce for people who got one but want to be able to say, "I was never divorced." My mother decided to go with the Jew, they married…and they had an ideal marriage. I've never seen a couple that got along that well.

At first, to avoid ticking off either side of the family, they pretty much raised me to be nothing. Then, in one of the few mistakes they ever made in parenting, they sent me to Hebrew School. I told you in the last of these pieces what a disaster that was.

It prompted a few comments from folks who said, "Gee, what a terrible childhood you had." No, no, no. I had a great childhood…the best one I witnessed among all my friends. In these articles, I am literally telling you every unpleasant memory I have from being a kid. It's about six or seven in my first eighteen years. My parents never fought. There was very little yelling. There was no hitting. There was no heavy drinking. I never got in trouble. And though we weren't wealthy, I pretty much got everything I wanted.

Hebrew School, as bad as it was, was only once a week for a few months. Once it was over, they decided to give me at least a brief exposure to the religion of my mother's side.

On the (bad) advice of a family friend, a visit was arranged between me and a high official of a local church. Then as now, I am unsure of his title and as I think back upon him, I have a mental image of Dean Wormer in Animal House but dressed as priests dress when they want to remind you that they're priests and you're not. I have always had a natural suspicion of people who try to "one-up" you with how they dress. It's like when you go to someone's office and they make sure they're sitting in a higher chair than you are.

He welcomed me, greeted me cordially and condescendingly, parked me in a chair, then sat in one that made him much, much taller than anyone else who'd ever visit him. He then proceeded to lecture me for a good half hour on how there was one true religion in the world (his) and the rest were frauds, shams and, of course, The Work of The Devil.

All who followed them — indeed, all who didn't surrender wholly to his version of his faith — were condemned to spend all eternity writhing in exquisite agony amidst the fire pits. These lost souls included, of course, my father, my mother (especially her for her act of treason, even though it had resulted in me), all the aunts and uncles I liked, all my friends…and billions of foolish non-Catholics around the planet.

I believe I actually said, "Sure gonna be crowded down there" but he didn't hear me. He didn't hear much of anything I said. It was kind of like "accept Jesus as your personal savior and get the hell out, kid." Or maybe it was "get out of hell." I don't remember. I do remember a pretty horrendous description of God. It made Him sound like a wrathful super-villain with the power to flood the world or wipe out a continent if he felt disrespected and there was talk only of Fear of God, not Love of God, which was even more off-putting. Mostly though, I recall the utter contempt for other religions and those who followed them.

Oh — and there was a lot about him (with a small "h") and his operation. It was not enough to just accept the teachings. God wouldn't be pleased with you if all you did was lead a moral life. You had to show up at church (preferably Father Wormer's) every single Sunday, participate in its affairs and rituals and — especially! — fill the old collection plate.

I got out of there without accepting Jesus or even Father Wormer as my personal savior. When I quoted to my parents some of the lecture/scolding I'd received, they realized they'd chosen poorly and urged me to pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.

A few weeks later, I spent a much more pleasant half-hour with an elder or a senior or a monsignor — I'm bad on these titles — at St. Timothy's down on Pico. He was the right guy but little of what he said meant much to me. The main thing I got from him was more respect for Catholics — they weren't all like the other guy — and the message that one could be of any faith if one respected others'. Either of those two things alone would have been worth the visit.

I came away from the latter meeting with the feeling that I didn't have to commit myself body and soul to any established church or teaching; that I didn't need to swear allegiance to any of them to understand that you shouldn't kill, you shouldn't steal, you shouldn't harm another human being except, when necessary, in self defense and perhaps the defense of others.

Having a last name like "Evanier" causes people to not know instantly what you are so when they asked, I'd often say, "As Jewish as I wanna be." I meant by that I'd take the parts of the faith and culture that made sense to me and respectfully decline the others. It's worked flawlessly except when I encounter someone who thinks you have to pick a team, swear total allegiance to it and work to destroy all others.

If you'd asked my father, he would have told you he was a devout Jew, though he might also own up to all the ways in which he didn't fit some folks' lists of what a devout Jew oughta do. Among other things, he didn't recruit. He never told anyone there was anything wrong with them not being a Jew. He barely told that to me, his own son. He was a kind and honest man who made things better for his friends and family, gave to charity and never knowingly harmed another human being. If that's not enough for your God, I want no part of Him.

Here's our first Christmas video of the year on this site. This is from The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson from I-don't-know-what-year. The four men are, left to right, writer Pat McCormick, announcer Ed McMahon, Johnny, and bandmember Tommy Newsom. You can see the first three getting into it (Pat may even have suggested the sketch) and you can see Tommy just going along with the bit, not singing and kind of looking like he just wants it to be over. I'm not sure how long after this it was that Johnny decided to stop using Tommy in sketches or to even let him front the band anymore. He was a darned good musician, though.