Yearly Archives: 2015

This message appeared here originally on October 31, 2003…

One day back in 1967, I was home from school with the flu and to pass the time, I decided to write some letters to comic book letter pages. This, of course, was back when comic books had letter pages.

Back when they did, I sent in a lot of letters and amazingly (for a time) had about 85% of them selected for publication. I told myself with grand pride that obviously, my prose was of such wit and insight that it stood out from the piles of what must have been hundreds, even thousands of letters. That track record stopped being so amazing when I started working in comics and saw the volume and quality of the mail that was received. Even a comic selling 250,000 copies only received about 25 letters, of which maybe eight might be printable, some with judicious rewriting by the editors. The rest were in Crayola® or said nothing deeper than "I love this comic!"

But I didn't know that back in '67. I just knew it was fun to open up a comic book and see your words — and better still, your name — staring back at you. So in a moment of fever-induced inspiration, I wrote the following letter and sent it off to Stan Lee. Months later, I was surprised to find it not in the letter page of one Marvel Comic but in Stan's Bullpen Bulletins page, which meant it ran in every Marvel that month. You can click on the image below and see a scan of the printed page or you can just read the transcript that follows it…

STAN'S SOAPBOX!
While we're waiting for your letters telling what you'd like us to editorialize about, we thought you'd get a charge out of this note which we just received:

Dear Bullpen: Enough! I have sat idle too long! I have watched the M.M.M.S. turn into disorganized chaos. (And that's the worst kind!) As a solution, I suggest we have some officers. By buying his first Marvel mag, a fan is automatically entitled to the rank of RFO (Real Frantic One). His first published letter elevates him to QNS (Quite 'Nuff Sayer). A no-prize raises him to TB (True Believer). Each additional no-prize raises one level: From JHC (Junior Howling Commando) to RH (Resident Hulk) to AAT (Associate Assistant Thing) and finally to the penultimate, the utmost status a fan can attain: MM (Marvelite Maximus)! Naturally, the artists all have the rank of DDD (Definitely Dizzy Doodlers), the editorial assistants are IPR (Illiterate Proof-Readers), art associates are VOD (Victims of Doodlers), the letterers are IWP (Indefatigable Word Placers), and Stan himself is at the summit – MEO (Marvel's Earthbound Odin). Each person would use his title at the start of his name – as I've done. (Signed –) RFO Mark Evanier

Y'know something, gang – we kinda dig Mark's idea. Let us know how it hits you and maybe we can really get the thing rolling! Fair ‘nuff?

And sure enough, they modified my titles a bit but soon, there were official ranks of Marveldom. To this day, when I run into Stan Lee, he rarely fails to mention that I came up with that and he treats it like it's the only important thing I've done in my life. Which it may well be. (The letter, by the way, was somewhat edited…as were most letters I had printed in comics back then. I don't believe I even knew the word "penultimate" at age 15. One of the reasons I stopped writing letters to comic books was that they were often rewritten, sometimes to the point of significantly altering my intended message.)

But it was not to be my only time in the Bullpen Bulletins. In 1970, I worked for a while for an outfit called Marvelmania International, which was selling posters and decals and other merchandise of the Marvel characters. Well, let me amend that: The mail order firm, which was disguised as a fan club, was taking orders for such items and cashing the checks, and once in a rare while, they'd actually produce an item and ship it out. But a lot of kids were shamelessly ripped-off and when it became apparent that this was happening, I quit, as did my friend Steve Sherman, who was also working there. A few months later, the guy who owned and operated the company upped and vanished to avoid a legion of creditors, and has not been seen since.

Before that happened, back when we and everyone still thought the company was legit and functioning, Steve and I paid a visit to New York City and spent a few days hanging around the Marvel offices, meeting everyone and gathering material for the "club" magazine. This was in July of '70 and even though we, like everyone else who ventured near Marvelmania, never got paid what we were owed, there were certain perks to our association with it…not a lot but, hey, you take what you can get.

One was that we spent a few hours with Stan Lee and he stuck a little notice in the Marvel Bullpen Bulletins, which appeared in every Marvel title each month. Some of the later Bullpen pages were written by others imitating Stan but he wrote this one, which ran in comics dated January, '71. I know because I saw him sit down at the typewriter and begin banging it out in his inimitable style, which included forced nicknames and chatty familiarity. No one ever called Steve "Stevey" and no one else thought we were young, zingy with-it guys but, hey, he's Stan Lee. If he says you're young, zingy and/or with-it, you don't ask questions. Here's the way it appeared in all the Marvel books a few months later. And whether you click on the image to see the scan or read the transcript that follows, take note of the item after the one about Steve and me…

ITEM! Just thought you'd like to know – the outspoken young fan who gave us the idea for the Ranks of Marveldom a few years ago (R.F.O.'s, F.F.F.'s, etc.) is now a full-fledged editor, turning out possibly the greatest fan mag of all for our own MARVELMANIA INTERNATIONAL! His name's MARK EVANIER, and he and his assistant editor, STURDY STEVEY SHERMAN, came to visit us the other day from sunny California where Marvelmania has its headquarters. They're a couple of young, zingy, with-it guys, and after yakkin' it up with ‘em for a while it's easy to see why MARVELMANIA has become the toast of fandom! They were in town to attend the famous ComicCon '70, and speaking of conventions —

ITEM! We just have to tell you that our first open meeting of the ACADEMY OF COMIC-BOOKS ARTS, held during the summer, was really somethin' else! One of the cleverest entertainers of our time, none other than WILL JORDAN, the great monologist and impressionist (you've seen him break up the Ed Sullivan show a zillion times), provided some of the most hilarious routines we've ever howled at. Our most heartfelt thanks to Will, and to all the panelists and guests who made it such a memorable and meaningful affair.

Most of the comics Stan worked on in the sixties have been praised to Asgardian proportion and I certainly agree there was wonderment aplenty in there. But I also really liked the friendly editorial "voice" he established in his letter columns, house ads and especially in the Bullpen Bulletins. He put himself on a first-name basis with the readership at a time when the rival DC editors generally came across not only as adults but stodgy adults. He simultaneously bragged about the greatness of Marvel and expressed such humility that when they screwed up, as they occasionally did, you were willing to cut them a lot of slack. I will never forget the issue of Tales to Astonish where in the letter page, Stan admitted that the Giant-Man story had been done in such a rush that he wasn't sure it made a lot of sense (it didn't), nor will I forget the way he made it sound like he and the Mighty Marvel Bullpen lived to serve us 14-year-old consumers.

And there's a reason I included the item after the item about me. While I was in Stan's office that day in 1970, he got a call from Jim Warren, publisher of Creepy and Eerie. They were on the planning committee for the Academy of Comic Book Arts, a group that was then trying to elevate the form in cursory ways. Warren was calling to say he'd arranged for Will Jordan to entertain at the upcoming meeting and Stan replied, "That's great! He'll be terrific! Good work, Jim!" Then Stan hung up the phone, turned to me and asked, "Who's Will Jordan?"

I explained that Will Jordan was a comedian-impressionist who was best known for his appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show, and Stan proceeded to write the entry you see above, talking about how great Will Jordan was, and how great he'd been at the meeting…which took place after this page went to the printer. Some would call this a bit of trickery but I thought it was a fine example of Stan's imaginative writing. Anyone can write a report on an event after it happens…

Today is Betty White's 93rd birthday. Yesterday, as she arrived at the stage where her show is taped, she found a little surprise waiting for her. (Thanks, Randy West, for telling me about this.)

Regarding the news that the Supreme Court will weigh in on a possible Constitutional Right to Same-Sex Marriage: I refuse to think I "know" how this will go and I'm worried it will go the wrong way and empower a movement (the folks who want to ban it) that was just about throwing in the towel. But I will say that browsing the web, the folks who are for full legalization of Gay Wedlock are a lot more optimistic and happy about this looming decision than the folks who want to stamp it out. Here's an example of the former.

Here's an interview with my pal Dave Goelz, better known to you as Gonzo from The Muppets. I met Dave years ago when I taught a class in Cartoon Voice Work at a school in San Francisco and he signed up to learn what he could. I didn't have the students' last names in front of me so it took me a while to realize that "Dave" was Dave Goelz. Very talented, wonderful man.

A real good actor named Rod Taylor passed away recently. On the 29th of this month, Turner Classic Movies will be saluting him by showing five of his best films: The Time Machine, The Birds, Sunday in New York, Young Cassidy and The Glass Bottom Boat.

To be honest, I wouldn't rank The Glass Bottom Boat as one of his best. It's a rather silly Doris Day comedy and, well, there's something wrong with a movie that has Paul Lynde in drag and still isn't funny. Animation students might be interested to watch how its director, Frank Tashlin, tries to do with human beings some of the kinds of gags he did in Warner Brothers cartoons when he directed them.

The film I wish they'd run — and I know people from T.C.M. read this site — is a really, really strange 1970 British comedy Mr. Taylor starred in called The Man Who Had Power Over Women. Taylor plays an assholy talent agent who doesn't let ethics or morality interfere with his lustings for money and women, not necessarily in that order.

I am not saying this is a great movie but it's rather fascinating as one of those films that studios were making then, trying to be hip and commercial and racy. 1968-1972 was a weird time for movies as the big studios struggled with how to grab the youth audience without getting too anti-establishment and it gave us weird pictures like Myra Breckenridge, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, Three in the Attic, Pretty Maids All in a Row and, yes, even Skidoo.

The Man Who Had Power Over Women has never had an official DVD release. I doubt it would sell a lot of copies but I think a lot of people would be fascinated to see it…once. Maybe T.C.M. can make that happen.

Here are some clips of Stephen Sondheim talking about the new movie of Into the Woods. This is for a video press kit…

So: "The U.S. Supreme Court decided Friday it will tackle the issue of whether same-sex couples have a constitutional right to marry, or whether states are allowed to ban gay marriage." I don't know what they're going to do so I'll settle for pointing out that lately, "experts" who've predicted how the Supreme Court will rule on important issues have had a pretty bad track record for accurate predictions.

Also, I'll predict that whatever side loses this decision will immediately announce, as if it's as certain as the tide going out, a Constitutional Amendment that will overturn that decision. And then that amendment will never get to first base.

I wonder: If states were allowed to ban gay marriage, how many of the 36 that currently allow it would. I'll bet it would be less than its opponents think, especially if those states were still required to recognize existing gay marriages and new ones performed in states where it remained legal.

In other news: "The year 2014 ranks as Earth's warmest since 1880, according to two separate analyses by NASA and National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) scientists." Somewhere out there, there's a guy who teaches Science at some middle school who'll say, "That's not possible. I distinctly remember buying a new Winter coat last November because it was so cold." And a certain number of folks out there will look at those two statements, decide they somehow cancel each other out and say, "The science on this is not settled."

[NOTE: I revised this post at 3:23 PM to clarify some clumsy verbiage.]

Word has it the Norms Restaurant on La Cienega Boulevard in West Hollywood may be heading for demolition. No date has been announced and its owners say they have no such plans. But they have obtained a permit to level the place so campaigns to save it are springing up.

Norms is a chain of coffee shops that are open 24 hours and offer food that's a notch (well, maybe half a notch) above what you'd expect for their low prices. People seem to love them mainly for breakfasts or for a late-night meal when most everything else is closed. A Norms is better than a Denny's but not by much. A lot of affection for the place seems to flow from the classic architecture and that sense of "It's been a part of Southern California as long as I can remember." We don't like to see places like that go away.

I've never dined at that particular Norms. When I want the kind of meal I'd get from there, I go instead to Canter's Delicatessen, which is also open 'round the clock and has, I think, pretty good chow. I have eaten at other Normses and it's like, "Hey, this ain't a bad steak for eight bucks." I'm glad there are places like that.

As with the matter of Ray Bradbury's house, this topic forces us to balance two possibly-competing interests. One is that of the property owners to maximize their income from what they own. The other is community concern: A lot of people would like the property to remain as it is for historical and sentimental reasons. Usually, to preserve whatever the latter wishes to preserve, someone has to come up with a plan where the owners can make a comparable amount not tearing the place down.

This article talks about a crusade to declare Norms a historic-cultural monument and says, "This would put the restaurant in the same category as famous L.A. landmarks like the Capitol Records building, the Griffith Observatory, the Hollywood sign and Johnie's Coffee Shop, which is seen frequently in films."

Johnie's is indeed seen frequently in films and that's its only function. It is no longer a working restaurant and its interior is not open to the public. They just rent it out as a location. There obviously isn't enough else happening right around there to make it profitable to operate a working restaurant. (A Johnny Rocket's that was across the street just closed and a year or two ago, so did a Sizzler that was a few doors away.)

Inside actually, Johnie's is pretty shabby and film crews that come in have to redress it and spruce it up for their purposes. It's been "saved" but it sure looks sad. So does that whole block, which is filled with empty or failing businesses, including that abandoned and empty Sizzler. I suspect the owners are trying to put together a deal to redevelop that whole area with new construction and tenants. The Los Angeles subway is being extended in that direction and there's supposed to be a station at that corner.

When that happens, one assumes that Johnie's — since it does have its landmark status — would be refurbished and reopened to serve the folks shopping at the new enterprises nearby or getting on and off the subway. At least, I hope that would happen. Maybe the same kind of redevelopment deal could save that Norms. Or better still, maybe the campaign to save it will give it more attention and business so the owners will decide their best option is to just leave it where it is, serving cheap steaks and pie to the masses.

Back on 11/29/03, I posted this piece on Castle Films. I still have a box downstairs here full of the Castle Films I bought as a child, plus I have a few dozen other 8mm movies from other companies that followed in Castle's footsteps. I have no projector on which to show these movies but I have the movies and can't bear to part with them…

For no visible reason, I found myself thinking about Castle Films this morning…and about how in this age of home video, they seem so primitive. Castle Films was for a time the leading manufacturer of 8mm movies. They were sold in camera shops and in the back of Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine, and a lot of us thought it was the neatest thing to be able to own and show a copy of Dracula or a Woody Woodpecker cartoon at home, even if it was silent and cut down to 4 minutes. That's not quite as bad as it sounds because a few of those old Universal horror films and comedies didn't lose all that much in that format. The one reel, non-talkie version of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein just about encapsulated everything that was fun about that cinema classic.

Castle Films was founded in 1924 by a man named Eugene Castle. This was before 8mm. Castle distributed 16mm movies — mostly newsreels and sports highlights — sold almost exclusively via mail order and in photography shops. There was also a successful business selling prints to film rental companies that would rent them out for non-theatrical exhibition…say, at a school or club function.

In the thirties and early forties, the main Castle product was what were called "soundies," which were short films that were the music videos of the day. In some bars and restaurants, you could put a dime in a machine and view a "soundie" of Glenn Miller's orchestra playing their latest record…or you could buy a Castle Film of it and watch it over and over and over at home. In the post-World War II years, there was a huge uptick in the market for 16mm projectors, so Castle Films sold a lot of "soundies." Around 1947, the company was so successful that Mr. Castle sold it to a company called United World Films.

His timing was great. Soon after, another company stole the rights to the "soundies" away and Castle Films lost its most important item. To fill the void, the new owners made a deal with Universal Studios to release scenes from some of their movie musicals on 16mm and this led to them also putting out excerpts from other Universal movies, most notably Abbott and Costello films, monster movies and the Walter Lantz cartoons (like Woody Woodpecker and Andy Panda) that Universal distributed. They continued to also market newsreels and travelogues and also began releasing films in the 8mm format that was becoming increasingly popular for home movies.

There was a certain artistry in the editing. Most Castle Films came in two versions…a 50-foot reel (3-4 minutes) and a 200-foot reel (12-16). Someone had to take an 85-minute movie and edit the abridged versions, preferably selecting action with a minimum of dialogue. The technology of motion picture production marched in reverse as they made silent films out of talkies, adding in title cards where necessary. The editors for Castle were pretty good about keeping them to a minimum.

Around 1949, Castle Films figured into a notable Hollywood "first." Though their popularity was on a definite decline, Bud Abbott and Lou Costello were still among Universal's highest-grossing stars. Their manager, the legendary Eddie Sherman, had actually secured for them a contract that paid them a percentage of the profits from their films…almost unheard-of at the time. Oddly, though Universal remained eager to put out more Abbott and Costello films, the studio maintained that the films were not breaking even…ergo, no profit checks to Bud and Lou. It was an early example of "Hollywood Accounting," in which the books are juggled so that all sorts of expenses are charged against the film, thereby reducing its net on paper, making it possible for the studio to argue that there are no profits to share.

Sherman knew his boys were being cheated but he was in a chicken-and-egg quandary. He could not get a look at the accounting ledgers unless he sued the studio…and he couldn't find a basis on which to sue the studio if he couldn't see those ledgers. One day, while walking down Vine Street in Hollywood, he passed a camera shop with a window display for Castle Films of Abbott and Costello. That was the excuse he needed. He sued Universal on behalf of his clients and gained access to the books, which displayed all manner of financial irregularity. They wound up settling out of court for a very large sum of cash, but it was probably the movie industry's first dispute of the sort, starting a tradition that continues to this day and now involves DVDs.

Castle Films dominated the home movie market to such an extent that their name almost became generic. To this day, one sees eBay merchants auctioning off the product of competing films like Blackhawk Films, Atlas Films, Ken Films or Entertainment Films…all referred to as"Castle Films," in much the same way most people refer to any brand of facial tissue as "Kleenex." Throughout the sixties, their top sellers were the films featuring the classic Universal monsters (Frankenstein, Wolfman, Dracula, etc.) and those starring Abbott and Costello. Rumor has it that, no surprise, their all-time best-seller was Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. But the mostly widely-available Castle Film was a 4-minute chop-down of Abbott and Costello Meet the Keystone Kops entitled Have Badge, Will Chase, which was used as a kind of low-cost introductory film to, they hoped, get people hooked on Castle Films. Issued in the hundreds of thousands, it came free with one popular brand of 8mm movie projector and when that deal soured, leftover copies were dumped on the camera store market as loss leaders. At a time when other 4-minute Castle Films cost $6.00, Have Badge, Will Chase went for $1.98 or less. As a result, it was the only Castle Film that some people ever owned.

16mm died out for them in the mid-sixties, which was about when 8mm sales hit their peak. Universal Studios acquired an increasing percentage of the company until eventually they owned it all and renamed it "Universal-8" — or sometimes, "Universal Super-8," as the Super-8mm movie format became more popular. Ironically perhaps, Universal chose to diversify beyond their own catalogue and began licensing the rights to put out movies owned by others. Almost every other major studio also tried establishing an 8mm division but it was too late. The market fell off during the seventies, not just for movies you could show at home but for all 8mm equipment. Even before the Betamax and home video recorders appeared on the scene, most 8mm film companies were defunct. The former Castle Films operation seems to have put out its last items in 1981.

Folks who still own 8mm projectors (an increasingly-scarce device) still sometimes collect Castle Films for the nostalgia. There isn't a lot of point to even threading the Bell and Howell to run a silent excerpt of Dracula when the entire movie, with sound, can be rented at Blockbuster and popped into the VCR. But some of us still hold a fond memory for the days when you could actually run a movie for your friends in the comfort of your own home. At the time, that seemed like a very big deal.

The Oscar nominations came out Thursday morn and, of course, with nominees come non-nominees. Most of the news stories yesterday seemed to focus not on who was nominated but who wasn't.

That's better fodder for the cable talk shows and scandal sites, of course, but it's also kind of silly. I was going to write a post on how absurd it was to say someone had been "snubbed" but then I saw that my friend Steve Stoliar had posted the following on Facebook. So here, with his permission…

If the members of the MP Academy got together and, amongst themselves, said, "Who don't we want to be nominated?" and then discussed it in a big room and then decided — in unison — who to keep out of the nominations — especially for some petty reason — that is a snub. But when each member marks a ballot in secrecy, based on his/her opinion — informed, intelligent, or otherwise — of who deserves a vote — always a subjective thing; there's no such thing as a film, actor, song, book, painting that everybody loves or everybody hates — that is not a snub. It is — wait for it — democracy in action, like it or not.

When there are more Best Picture nominees allowed than for any other category, it is statistically impossible to have each Best Picture director also nominated in the Best Director category. The lack of inclusion does not mean that director did a shitty job or "the movie must've directed itself" (that tired, meaningless cliché), or that the Academy conspired to keep their names off the list. It means the others got more votes than they did, so they didn't make the cut. You can rail about not enough women, not enough blacks, not enough black women, etc. etc. etc. and you can see it as some shameful snubbing conspiracy that must stop this very minute, but that is the simple truth. Whether you choose to extrapolate something more sinister from it is your choice.

One other point and this is M.E. again: Marion Cotillard got a nomination for Best Actress. Jennifer Aniston didn't and they're saying she was "snubbed." But we don't know the vote totals. Maybe Cotillard got one more vote than Aniston. Maybe Aniston missed the cut-off by one vote. That wouldn't be much of a snub, would it?

*If you don't know who Snub Pollard was, here's who he was.

When David Letterman switched over to CBS in 1993, the network spent a lotta loot promoting his arrival. One of the less expensive things they did was to lasso Dave into doing a lot of promos for the various local news programs that his new show would be following.

Here's a reel that was sent out so that local stations could build promos that included him. If it gets tedious, zip ahead to about the last five minutes when they have him rattling off copy he clearly doesn't care about…

Jonathan Chait doesn't believe Mitt Romney will really run for president. I don't, either. I mean, the guy might run the way Herman Cain or Donald Trump ran last time — as a vehicle of personal promotion. But Romney's not going to be the candidate. He was the C.E.O. President who could run the country like a successful business…but he couldn't parlay bad economic news for the Democrats into a victory. How's the G.O.P. going to let him try again when the news is better?

I have fixed one of my two e-mail problems. For the last week or so, mails sent to my main e-mail address on this site were not getting to me and now they are. I still have to deal with the problem that a few of them take 2-3 days to get to me but that's just a matter of me finding someone at Time-Warner Tech Support who understands that the Internet is not just a series of tubes. That should be doable…eventually.

Let's go back to 4/6/02 on this blog…one of a series of posts I was doing around then about things that mattered to my childhood. This one's about Flav-R Straws, which are no longer made under that name. There are a few other versions around of what is essentially the same product. One is called Magic Milk Straws. I doubt they mean as much to kids today as Flav-R Straws did to me and my friends…

Time to reminisce about another food product of my childhood…and I'm being very liberal with my definition of a "food product" by applying it to Flav-R Straws. They were, of course, another plot by the chemical geniuses of Corporate America to turn kids' milk some odd color. In this case, the options were pink and a pale beige, though they somehow claimed these had something to do with "strawberry," "chocolate" and other "flavors."

A Flav-R Straw was an ordinary drinking straw with a flexible section — so you could bend it towards your mouth instead of moving your head two inches — and an odd, semi-toxic filament. Nestled inside each straw was a piece of porous material — a paper product, I suspect, though it could have been a sliver of animal skin, for all I know. The tiny strip was impregnated with the alleged flavor — that is to say, alleged chocolate or alleged strawberry or alleged whatever — and a whole load of Industrial Strength Food Coloring in brown or red variety.

The premise was that you'd stick one of these suckers in a glass of milk and then, as you sucked upon it, the pristine, white moo juice would pass through the filter and take on the hue and taste of it. And as you repeatedly dipped the straw, the remaining milk in the glass would be similarly transformed. My recollection is that it really didn't work that way or that well. For one thing, to get the milk through the blockade at all, you had to suck so hard, you practically developed a compound hernia in your cheek muscles. For another, even the small amount of milk that made it through was only faintly tinted or altered in any way. You could transfer a bit more "flav-r" to the milk by rapidly dipping the straw into the glass and withdrawing it, over and over for about an hour, but this felt silly and it still turned the liquid only slightly off-white.

Most kids just gave up and removed the Flav-R strip from the straw and tried sucking directly on it. Employed that way, it would yield a bitter taste but, at least, it turned your tongue brown so that had some value. Still, Flav-R Straws were a colossal disappointment…and, now that I think of it, that had a value, as well. We all have to learn in life that some things just don't work as advertised. Better we should learn it on something as silly and low-cost as Flav-R Straws. It fosters a kind of Consumer Skepticism that can be very handy, later in life. Then again, so can learning to suck real hard.

One last remembrance of Flav-R Straws: One time when we were both straining to get milk through ours, the girl who lived down the street from me asked what would happen if you tried to use a Flav-R Straw in a glass of Coca-Cola. I told her she would instantly die. She decided not to chance it.

I continue to enjoy the Neil Simon Fest on Turner Classic Movies, ably hosted by our pal Ken Levine. I wish I knew how to do Chromakey on my computer. They have Ken standing in a blank blue setting and it would be fun to matte him into backgrounds of the North Pole or the Star Wars cantina or a gay bar or something.

Let's see. I watched Murder by Death the other night and didn't enjoy it as much as I did the first time I saw it. I watched The Cheap Detective, which I didn't like in the theaters, and liked less on TCM. Got about a third of the way through, then TiVo-skipped my way to see Ken's outro.

Does anyone know what the story was with Phil Silvers in that movie? He was billed as a star but only had one line and three seconds on screen. Obviously, he was suffering from the effects of his stroke but I'm wondering if that role was much larger when it was cast or if he was signed for a larger part then downgraded when it became obvious he couldn't deliver lines? Either way, it's sad to see such a great performer in such an easily-missable cameo.

I watched Plaza Suite and thought how wonderful Maureen Stapleton was in the first part and how good Walter Matthau was in (only) the third part.

That third playlet — the one about the bride locking herself in the bathroom — is killer material. I saw Carol Burnett and George Kennedy do it on stage (directed by Danny Simon!) and it was one of the funniest things I ever saw in my life. Fifteen or so years ago, a producer I knew was trying to set up a new production of Plaza Suite for cable and he was asking everyone for recommendations of which current stars to cast in each of the acts. I offered to give him the contents of my wallet — about $28 at the time — if he'd make the third couple British and book John Cleese and Tracey Ullman. Alas, the production never happened but I would have spent $28 for that.

I saw California Suite on stage with the original cast and liked three of the four plays a lot better there than in the movie. Actually, Simon changed the Bill Cosby-Richard Pryor one so much for the film that it really wasn't the same play, just the same theme. The one I liked in both venues was the one about the British actress who was in town for the Academy Awards.

I don't think a lot of people know that Simon wrote a sequel to that one. It was in his little-seen London Suite, which I saw on stage (though off-Broadway) in New York, and in it the character Maggie Smith played in the film (Tammy Grimes on Broadway) had turned into Angela Lansbury. She was starring as a detective on a hit U.S. television series — wink, wink — and her gay husband was off living with his new, male life partner.

It was the standout act of London Suite and I thought at the time that Simon must have been planning to write one more playlet about the couple — he left things somewhat dangling at the end of that second one — and then mount a play that would consist of all three chapters. If this was ever his intention, I'm sorry he never did it.

This week, Ken will be hosting The Goodbye Girl, Chapter Two and Only When I Laugh — three movies that all star the second Mrs. Neil Simon, Marsha Mason. The Goodbye Girl is easily the best of them, largely because of a volcanic performance by Richard Dreyfuss. He's great in it and it took me until I saw the failed Broadway musical adaptation of the movie to realize how great. Dreyfuss is very funny and adorable but he's abrasive enough that you can believe it takes the first two-thirds of the movie for Paula (Mason's character) to fall in love with him. On stage, Martin Short had the part and he was funny and adorable…but you couldn't comprehend why Paula (Bernadette Peters there) didn't fall for him halfway through his introductory song. So the show didn't work, at least for me or anybody.

Quick story: I've written here before about my actress friend Bridget Holloman. She had a tiny part in the movie of The Goodbye Girl. — one whole line, which wound up being cut, downgrading her to "extra" stature. You can see her in a couple of shots in a scene at an audition but that was it.

Her line was not even filmed and on the set, Mr. Simon apologized to her for that. She said to him, "I understand. It's just that I was in —" and here she listed for him some of the really awful movies and TV shows she'd been in and then she told him, "I was just looking forward to having a good line for a change."

She said Neil Simon was pleased by that…but not enough to reinstate the line or give her another one. That was not why she'd said it, by the way. She really meant it.

Chapter Two, I think was harmed by the miscasting of James Caan, who did not seem to get Simonesque dialogue. Judd Hirsch did when he did the role on stage and it was quite wonderful. I also felt that Marsha Mason was miscast in the film not because she couldn't be believable as a woman who marries a writer getting over the death of his first wife but because she was that. It was hard, at least for me, to get my mind off the fact that she was essentially playing herself, reliving personal torments slightly fictionalized for our entertainment. It was like the way you cringed in All That Jazz (or should have) when Ann Reinking played a woman who expressed her hurt to Bob Fosse Joe Gideon for not being faithful to her. Anyway, I thought Chapter Two was an okay movie made out of a better play.

Before I saw it, I also thought Mason was miscast in Only When I Laugh, which was Simon's screen adaptation of his play, The Gingerbread Lady. The lead role is that of a recovering, self-destructive alcoholic and the role was originated on the stage by Maureen Stapleton. I bet she was great in it. I could buy her as that kind of person in an instant. Marsha Mason struck me as just too lovely and too strong to play a person of such weakness…but I guess I forgot how good an actress she was. It was a pretty good movie which didn't get the attention it deserved. Glad to see it included here.

Note to Ken: You stated in your intro to The Odd Couple that when Walter Matthau and Art Carney originated the roles of Oscar and Felix on stage, they at some point traded roles. A leading authority on this kind of thing (i.e., me) believes this is an Urban Legend and not at all true. You also stated that you felt Klugman and Randall eclipsed Matthau and his co-star in the movie, Jack Lemmon, as those characters. Next time we lunch, I will tell you why I don't agree and our meal will probably devolve into an ugly fist fight and the busboys will have to separate us. I can tolerate people who hold differing political or religious viewpoints but not this.

Incidentally — and leaving the topics of Neil Simon, Ken Levine and Turner Classic Movies: In the piece I just linked to, I was writing about when Art Carney won the Oscar for his role in Harry and Tonto. I said…

No one expected that win, up against Nicholson in Chinatown, Pacino in Godfather II, Dustin Hoffman as Lenny, and Albert Finney in Murder on the Orient Express. When they called the name of Art Carney, he had a reaction I don't think I've ever seen from anyone else on the Academy Awards. It was kind of a stunned "Really?" not just at the name but at a sudden roar of approval from the audience. They liked that choice even if the recipient couldn't quite wrap his brain around it for a moment. You kind of got the feeling that he was used to being first runner-up in life and couldn't quite grasp that he'd climbed out of the "also starring…" pit. Still, being a pro, he rose to the occasion (and his feet) and did a little victory gesture that I can't describe but which seemed to say, "Hey, I did it." I don't recall what he said, other than that he was charmingly unprepared. But I remember that little gesture which said more than any acceptance speech by anyone I've seen before or since.

I couldn't show you that moment before but I can now. It's in the video below…and watching it made me think of one reason why the Academy Awards aren't as exciting as they once were. They used to often be about people we'd known for a long time. When Carney won in 1975, he was someone America had been watching for more than two decades. Back then, they went to people like him, John Wayne, Jack Lemmon, Marlon Brando…people with more of a sense of history. Now, they go to folks who, while they may have been around for a while, weren't really on most filmgoers' radar longer than about ten years…or maybe three or four outstanding films.

This is a generalization and there are plenty of exceptions but I don't think we often get that sense of someone finally being rewarded for a lifetime of exemplary work. Listen to how pleased this audience was to see the Oscar go to a longshot TV actor they first knew as Ed Norton. They won't be that happy if an Oscar goes this year to the actor named Ed Norton for Birdman…