I've never followed basketball. I'm not even sure how the game is played. Still, my father watched the Lakers religiously and his life was sure brightened by the obviously-impeccable play-by-play descriptions of Chick Hearn. Hearn was so good at it that, when I passed through the living room and a game was on, I sometimes found myself mesmerized by the mile-a-minute sound of his voice, rattling off every move of every player in a way that sure sounded interesting. Maybe the games weren't always, but Chick sure was.
One time, I wrote an episode of Garfield and Friends and booked Chick Hearn to play a mouse who called a very silly basketball game played with groceries instead of a ball. Chick was not altogether delighted to be there and he was utterly baffled by the words we expected him to read. At one point, I had Garfield hurl a meat loaf down court, zoom down ahead of it and catch his own pass. The dialogue said, "Garfield passes to Garfield" and Mr. Hearn kept stopping and moaning, "Hold it! How can Garfield pass to Garfield? And on the next page, you have the wrong number of points where he makes the free throw with the honeydew melon." He also, we found, could not talk half as rapidly reading from a script as he could, ad-libbing it all while watching a game. We finally convinced him he should just read the copy and not worry about the logic…which he did, without ever quite achieving the level of excitement and energy he had for even the most one-sided real game.
Still, when he did what he did best (i.e., real games, not cartoons) he was amazing. And he sure made a lot of sports fans happy.
Everyone who watches TV gets the occasional crush on some performer. It can be triggered by a look, a smile, a swimsuit…often, something utterly non-sexual. But something about someone on the screen makes a connection with you. This is especially prevalent during adolescence, although I have one friend who's in his late sixties and still catching every appearance of Ann Miller, hoping she'll be wearing something that shows her legs. One of my many crushes, actually managing to momentarily displace Mary Tyler Moore, involved a show called Harry's Girls that ran on Friday nights, commencing in September of 1963.
Larry Blyden played a song-and-dance man who was touring Europe in a U.S.O. revue with three young, pretty ladies. The storylines mostly centered around him becoming their father-figure, big-brother and all-around protector, sheltering them from horny servicemen.
I was thirteen that year…a very dangerous age, hormone-wise, and I could have fallen for any of the three women. Hell, a thirteen-year-old boy could get aroused by the picture of Betty Crocker on the pancake flour box. My particular lusting opted for Susan Silo. She's the brunette — third from the left — in the above photo.
How much did I enjoy watching Susan on Harry's Girls? Well, when J.F.K. was shot, a goodly portion of my grief was over the fact that news coverage preempted Harry's Girls and my chance to see her that week. Did Oswald have to shoot the president on a Friday? And then, the following January when the series was cancelled, I was truly crushed. It never re-ran anywhere, and though she continued to turn up on other shows, I more or less forgot about lovely Susan. Laura Petrie got me again on the rebound.
More than a quarter-century later, I was at a Christmas party at the offices of Cunningham-Escott-Dipene, which is one of the top agencies for voiceover performers. This was when I was voice-directing the Garfield cartoon shows, employing many of their clients. One of the agents there, Paul Doherty, introduced me to a delightful older gent named Lou Krugman who, alas, is no longer with us. I am unable to find a photo of Lou to post with this but turn on TV Land at almost any hour and you'll see him, especially on various old sitcoms starring Lucille Ball. (He played the director in that episode where Lucy got the chance to play a showgirl in a murder mystery. On The Dick Van Dyke Show, he played Nunzio, the fellow who sold Rob Petrie a wholesale fur coat. Here's a link to his listing in the Internet Movie Database. As you'll see, he was in just about everything at one time or another.)
I chatted a while with Lou and then Paul came over and said, "Mark, I'd like you to meet Susan Silo."
"Susan Silo?"
Yes, Susan Silo…looking just about the same as she did on TV when I was thirteen. I immediately launched into a bad vocal rendition of the theme song from Harry's Girls. This shocked her because, as I said, the show has aired nowhere since the first week of 1964. There were then no tapes around, no place I could possibly have learned the theme, but to have remembered it all those years. (She has only recently latched onto cassettes of a few episodes.) I immediately hired her to play a role on a Garfield that taped the following week — a role which, at that moment, I had yet to write. She was so good, she appeared on many subsequent episodes, and many other shows I've voice-directed.
I saw Susan at the Hollywood Collectors' Show last Saturday and it reminded me that I oughta tell the above story. We also should start a campaign to get some cable channel to run Harry's Girls and I should direct you to her web page at www.susansilo.com, where you'll see what a busy actress she is, both on-camera and doing voiceovers, and you can listen to voice demos. If you should happen to fall in love, just remember: I saw her first.
I don't agree with a lot of reviewers so I expected to quibble a lot with the notices for Neil Simon's Oscar and Felix: A New Look at the Odd Couple. But I disagreed with almost none of this review in the L.A. Times or the one that ran in Daily Variety, which is available on-line only by subscription. And at this page over at the Times, you can see two on-line clips from the show.
On his show this week, Dennis Miller did the same Southwest Airlines joke, and I have to wonder why. Leno, Letterman and O'Brien all did it the same night — Tuesday — and none of them could have seen the other shows when they taped. But Miller does his show live on Friday nights. Hard to believe no one on his staff had seen Dave, Jay or Conan. (I am not suggesting theft here; just that someone needs to be a little more careful.)
And, yes, I have seen this article about the guy who ripped off royalties for Garfield & Friends. No wonder I haven't gotten a check lately…
Here's something for you to read. Shelley Berman is, as we all know, one of the great comedians of all time. A very funny, innovative man. Many years ago, in a clever book called A Hotel Is A Funny Place…, he set down a series of letters describing his war with the staff of a hotel in which he was residing.
The war was about the distribution of little soaps in his room. It was very funny in the book and even funnier, later, when he performed it on stage. For some reason, the text of it became one of those stories that people pass around on the Internet, claiming it actually happened to a friend. A year or three ago, someone e-mailed it to me claiming it was the actual, no-kidding correspondence of his pal, Harvey…this, despite the fact that the person authoring "Harvey's" half of the letters clearly signs his name, "S. Berman."
Anyway, as many of you know, the site, www.snopes.com, does a fine, fascinating job of debunking, verifying or clarifying popular rumors and urban legends. They have this one therefore, properly identified, and therefore you have the chance to read the entire text of it by clicking here. (It was also on Mr. Berman's most recent comedy CD — Shelley Berman Live Again — which is, alas, outta-print and hard to come by. If you glom onto one and hear the routine on it, one of the audience members you'll hear howling is me.)
By the by: Mr. Berman is still performing and still as funny as ever. A few years ago, when I was writing/voice-directing Garfield & Friends, we had him in once to play a role and he was terrific. We also had Stan Freberg and Jonathan Winters on the show. Once upon a time, my entire collection of comedy records consisted of Stan Freberg, Jonathan Winters, Bob Newhart and Shelley Berman. And, but for a scheduling conflict, we would have gotten Bob, too…
P.S. (Added at 3:45 AM) Just noticed that Shelley Berman has it posted on his website. Much better place for you to read it…and check out his message board. Here's the preferred link. Good night.
There's a wonderful resource called The Internet Movie Database but odd errors keep popping up in its listings. They claim that someone named Edward Paulsen did voices on Garfield and Friends. As you know, I wrote on every episode of that series and voice-directed most and I don't know who Edward Paulsen is. I do know who Gene Wilder is and I know that he did not do a guest appearance on the show, in spite of what they claim. Not that we wouldn't have loved to have had him. (We did have one of this co-stars from The Producers, Kenneth Mars, in an episode. He was playing a German scientist and, as an in-joke, I named his lab assistants Bialystock and Bloom, but the names got cut when some dialogue had to be trimmed for time.)
Speaking of animation legends who have left us: George Singer, whose career in animation spanned nearly 50 years, passed away Feb. 10 at the Motion Picture Hospital in Calabasas, California. He was 78 years old and may have held the record for working for the greatest number of major animation studios. His résumé included lengthy stints at Famous Studios in New York, Halas-Bachelor in England and then, in Hollywood, tours of duty at (among others) Warner Brothers, Format Films, Hanna-Barbera, U.P.A., Marvel Productions, San Rio Films, Steve Krantz, DePatie-Freleng and Film Roman.
It was at the last of these that I worked with him. He was the first producer of the Garfield and Friends series discussed elsewhere on this site and a fine job he did in that post, indeed. George was an old-timer who never acted like one. He'd directed, he'd animated, he'd designed, he'd cut film…and even just before his retirement, he still loved everything about the form. We didn't always agree on everything but I never doubted for a second that he was a first-rate talent who knew more about making cartoons than anyone else I'll ever have the honor to work with.
As mentioned here recently, Dark Horse Comics is issuing a wonderful series called Classic Comic Characters. Each month, you can buy a couple new figurines of the players from some famous newspaper strip. (A good, honest place to order them is www.budplant.com.) The little statues are issued in limited editions and a few months ago, they came out with Albert the Alligator, reptilian star of Walt Kelly's immortal Pogo. In June, you'll be able to purchase Pogo Possum, hisself. The pic at left was taken last evening on my breakfast table, placing the Pogo prototype alongside a finished Albert. Don't they look great together?
This is because of the expert sculpture work done by the folks at Yoe! Studios but also because these were supervised by my best friend — and another of Walt's great creations — Carolyn Kelly.
I love it when a piece of merchandise perfectly captures the way a character oughta look. Back in my Hanna-Barbera days, I lived in a state of perpetual argument with certain folks in the marketing division who didn't seem to know what Yogi Bear and Fred Flintstone looked like…or, if they did, they didn't care if the toys and t-shirts and lunch boxes matched up. One of the joys of working for years with Jim Davis on Garfield was that it didn't matter to Jim how much it cost, the cat was going to look right. I once saw him kill, without flinching, a $100,000+ deal because the manufacturer couldn't get the lasagna-loving feline to look the way he oughta. Carolyn has been no less strident about getting her father's characters the way he drew them. Would that more people who were in charge of great characters were as diligent and knowledgeable.
I have lots of talented friends. I can't do much more than write silly stuff and cook turkeys in my George Foreman rotisserie oven. But I have friends who can sing, dance, juggle…even sound like other people. One who can do all those except maybe the juggling is the incomparable Christine Pedi, who is oft-referred to as "Christine Pedi of Forbidden Broadway." She no longer performs in that show but when she did, she won raves for her uncanny carbons and burlesques of celebs like Ethel Merman, Liza Minnelli and Elaine Stritch. (I saw her do Liza at least a dozen times over the years and watched the impression get broader and broader. It's had to, since Liza is now doing an increasingly-broad imitation of herself and Christine has to stay ahead of the real thing.)
You can read a nice article about her that ran in The New York Times by clicking here and another piece on TheatreMania by clicking here. And you can see Christine on your very own TV. She's scheduled to do a number this coming Tuesday (January 22) on The Rosie O'Donnell Show.
Funny story how I met Christine: She was appearing in a production of Forbidden Broadway that was appearing at the Tiffany Theater here in Hollywood — an excellent company that included Brad Oscar, who is now on Broadway, playing Franz Liebkind in The Producers. (That is, when he isn't filling in for Nathan Lane as Bialystock.) I took a group of friends to the Tiffany to see the show — a group that included Stan Freberg and June Foray. After the performance, which we all loved, Stan wanted to meet the cast and, of course, they all wanted to meet one of America's great satirists. So we all massed in the lobby and when Christine met Stan, somehow the subject of his career doing cartoon voices came up. She said she wanted to get into the field and Stan pointed to me and said, "That's Mark Evanier. He does the Garfield cartoon show and he can tell you all about the business."
So she came over to me, introduced herself, told me that she was fascinated by the business and asked me what June Foray was like. I pointed to the lady standing next to me and said, "She's exactly like that woman." (I felt like Woody Allen: "I just happen to have Marshall McLuhan right here…")
I've received a number of e-mails asking me who's going to take over as the voice of Garfield now that Lorenzo Music has left us. (I've also received an embarrassing number of phone calls and e-mails from folks who covet the job.) The answer is that no one involved in the Garfield business wants to discuss it now. Too soon, too soon.
Attention, Three Stooges fans! Saturday evening, American Movie Classics is running Soup to Nuts, an almost-never-seen, 193o feature starring Ted Healy, for whom the Stooges were originally stooges. And in in supporting roles, you'll find Moe, Larry…and Shemp, since this — the Stooges' first screen appearance — was made before Shemp left the group and was replaced by Curly. (Years later, Curly had a stroke, whereupon Shemp returned to the act in his stead.) The movie was allegedly written by the famed cartoonist, Rube Goldberg, who has a small cameo. Most of it was ghost-scripted, however, by Lou Breslow, who later wrote some of the weaker Laurel and Hardy movies. Probably not a cinema classic but, hey, it's history.
The Broadway show, The Producers, not only sells out every night, they also sell standing room and any tickets that become available due to cancellations. Someone who attempted to purchase the former recently posted a message to one of the newsgroups that tells how the process works. Here's a link that oughta allow you to read this message. (By the way: For those of you tracking such info or holding tickets for September 4-9, Matthew Broderick is taking that week off.)
Some people think that Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, The Hulk and many other super-guys had their greatest adventures in a series of one-page Hostess ads that ran in their comics in the seventies. And it's true: Seeing Batman battle the Joker for hostess of a couple of twinkies or Dr. Octopus purloining Spider-Man's fruit pies was kinda entertaining (in a silly way) and no worse than certain of their "real" exploits. You can see them for yourself because someone has set up a website that purports to display every one of these four-color classics. Get there by clicking here.
I would like to recommend a political reporter/commentator to you. His name is Joshua Micah Marshall and he writes for, among other outlets, Slate, Salon, New Republic and The American Prospect. Every day or so, he posts an interesting "Talking Points Memo" on his website and I find them always worth reading. See if you don't, too, by clicking on this link.
One of the many wonderful qualities that Lorenzo Music possessed was his tendency and talent for putting people together and fomenting friendships. So it was fitting and, in an odd way, appropriately comforting that his passing should continue the practice. Shortly after posting an obit here, I began to hear from folks who knew him — some, more-or-less strangers to me; others, old friends with whom I hadn't communicated in a long time. It's unfortunate that it sometimes takes a tragedy to put people back in touch but, well, it does.
You'd be genuinely amazed how many e-mails I received regarding the obit I wrote. On the other hand, it took five days before any of those folks pointed out to me that in one part, I called his wonderful spouse Henrietta — which is correct — and in another, Harriet, which is not. I apologize, Henrietta, and I've corrected it. (This is what happens when you type with moist eyes.)
Want to read another, more detailed bio on Lorenzo? Craig Crumpton, who is a wise and informed scholar of the cartoon voice biz, has one at his site. You can reach it by clicking here. And some words from Jim Davis can be read on the Garfield website.
A very talented writer and actor named Lorenzo Music died yesterday following months of brutal, heart-breaking illness. He was — like his distinctive, well-known speaking voice — unique. Those who cast him as a voiceover performer often said that just to hear him, no matter what the script or ad copy, was curiously comforting and satisfying. That was absolutely true, and it was an extension of the man himself. He walked through life with a warming aura of creativity about him…one that enveloped all who came near. To be in his presence was to feel smarter, wittier, more creative and, of course, happier — all by osmosis. He had so many gifts, one body could not contain them all. They were always leaking out, enriching others. He was just one of those people it was great to be around.
Lorenzo was born May 2, 1937 in Brooklyn, though he grew up in Duluth, Minnesota. Much later, he attended the University of Minnesota there and became enormously active in the school's Theatre Arts classes and community. He also became enormously active with a lovely female drama student named Henrietta. Together, they started a comedy act that lasted eight years and a life partnership that continued indefinitely, through four children.
In 1967, he switched from performing to writing when he joined the staff of the legendary Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour on CBS — although he managed to occasionally sneak onto camera, often with his banjo or ukulele. The show's writers won Emmys in 1969 but Lorenzo decided that variety shows were dying out and that he'd better drum up some credits in situation comedy. To that end, he and his partner, David Davis, accepted a low-level staff position on a new sitcom called The Mary Tyler Moore Show. By the second season, they were story editors on what would be hailed as one of the all-time greatest television comedies and were charged by the production company, MTM, with creating a new series for comedian Bob Newhart. Lorenzo co-created, produced and wrote for his third "TV classic" in a row when he and Davis concocted The Bob Newhart Show, featuring Dr. Robert Hartley and his odd style of psychiatrics. And Lorenzo and Henrietta composed the show's theme song.
Their next project was to develop and produce Rhoda, a spin-off from The Mary Tyler Moore Show. It was on this series that Lorenzo returned to performing, supplying the voice of the unseen, perpetually inebriated doorman, Carlton. Later on, an attempt to develop a prime-time animated series called Carlton, Your Doorman was unsuccessful, though the pilot won an Emmy as the best animated special of its season.
I first met Lorenzo when I was called in to write what would have been the second episode of Carlton's show. I found him to be a bright, friendly gent who was brimming with ideas, not just about comedy writing but the world around him. Way too much time was wasted, talking about things that had nothing to do with the job at hand…but it wasn't really wasted. Time spent with Lorenzo was never wasted. He had a way of throwing an idea your way — or, perhaps, introducing you to someone from his wide and diverse list of friends — and letting the magic, if any, evolve.
Professionally, he began to take more interest in performing. That was how the Carlton cartoon show came about, as he did not see himself as an on-camera player, especially after a syndicated talk show he co-hosted with Henrietta was hastily terminated. While doing the pilot for the Carlton series, he came up, almost half-heartedly, with the idea of doing a live-action sitcom set in an animation studio. By way of research, he toured Hanna-Barbera Studios where a casting director to ask him to audition for a role on the Pac-Man series that was then in production. He won the part, which prompted him to put his writing-producing career aside, at least for a while, and devote his energies to voiceover work. (The premise of a comedy set in an animation studio later emerged from the MTM studio as The Duck Factory, written by others using none of Lorenzo's ideas.)
Soon, Lorenzo Music had one of the most-heard voices in radio and television. He would eventually be heard on several more cartoon shows, including The Real Ghostbusters and Gummi Bears, and on hundreds of commercials and voiceover spots. His most famous performances came, however, when he was selected as the voice of Jim Davis's well-syndicated feline superstar, Garfield the Cat.
Lorenzo was not that character's first voice. That honor belonged to Scott Beach, a San Francisco radio personality who spoke for Garfield when the cat was first animated for a brief TV appearance. When CBS ordered up an entire Garfield special, Davis — not quite happy with the choice that had been made — inaugurated a major casting search for the perfect, permanent sound. Hundreds of actors were heard and re-heard before Lorenzo tried-out and Jim said, almost instantaneously, "That's the one." Thereafter, Lorenzo spoke for Garfield on more than a dozen prime-time animated specials (one of which he co-wrote, and several of which won Emmys) and on the Saturday morning Garfield and Friends show, which was on CBS for seven years.
As the writer (and later, co-producer and voice director) of the Saturday show, I was reunited with Lorenzo and came to truly appreciate his acting abilities. He was a thinking performer who would instantly grasp what had been written and, as often as not, come up with a way to maximize the humor. His suggestions were nearly always good, and contributed to making Garfield a truly memorable animated personality.
During this period, Lorenzo came up with the gimmick of keeping his visage from public view…a notion that flowed from all the curiosity he'd aroused when playing the never-seen Carlton on Rhoda. Thereafter, his publicity photos showed him in silhouette, or with something in front of his face, and he declined all TV interviews that would not present him that way. Although he had appeared occasionally on TV before, the stunt had its intended effect of arousing attention. People began wondering about the face that went with the voice and he often chuckled that he was becoming "semi-famous" for not being seen. He received several lucrative proposals to appear on-camera in movies and TV shows or as a commercial spokesperson and was forever considering them but always opting to wait for a better offer. (He once likened it to a great dramatic actor waiting for the right role before he'd perform without his hairpiece. He'd say, "I'm not showing my face for this one.")
Lorenzo was an enormously versatile, brilliant man with interests in a hundred different directions and talents he never had time to fully flex. He wrote music and poetry, he produced short stories for his own and his friends' enjoyment, and he even participated in a dance troupe. For a time, he donated one night per week to taking calls on a suicide hot line. The callers never knew his identity but occasionally, one of them would be pouring out a story — "my wife left me, I'm broke, I have an incurable disease," etc. — and would suddenly blurt out, "Hey, you know you sound like that cat on TV?"
A few months ago, Lorenzo began having health problems. Initially misdiagnosed, they soon turned out to all be related to cancer that had infiltrated his system and spread across his spine and into various nooks of his body. A lot of us knew the end was near when he told us his spine was "riddled with cancer." Any time you hear the word, "riddled," it ain't good. The disease had been, for a time, undetected…up until a visit he paid to a health spa. While being lifted on a massage table by a masseuse, Lorenzo's back broke and doctors subsequently spotted the deterioration. Additional problems quickly followed — a rather horrifying list of them. Still, when I visited him in the hospital, he initially sounded as strong and determined as if he were in for a simple tonsillectomy. The facts of his case suggested he hadn't long to live but, until about a week ago, his spirit and resolve suggested otherwise. Sadly, the facts won out.
It's customary to end these things by writing something like, "Fortunately, he will be with us forever…in reruns of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Rhoda, The Bob Newhart Show and other programs he wrote, and reruns of Rhoda, Garfield, The Real Ghostbusters, The Gummi Bears and other shows on which he performed. He also leaves behind a terrific family, a legacy of friends who were introduced to one another and inspired by his kindness, and a whole lot of fans." And of course, all that is true. But to those of you who never had the chance to know him, I have to say…
I'm sorry. The work was wonderful, and I know you'll enjoy watching it again and again and again. But being around Lorenzo Music was even better.
IN MEMORY OF LORENZO MUSIC
His family has requested that anyone wishing to
make a donation in his name do so to: The Subud International Cultural Association
5828 Wilshire Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90036
I'm not going to do a real obit column on Morton Downey, Jr., who died the other day because I didn't really (a) know him or (b) like him. Matter of fact, I disliked his on-air routine so much that I wrote a Garfield cartoon in which I parodied the guy. To do the voice, I hired someone I did like — a gravelly-voiced actor (also a writer and producer and restaurant critic) named Stanley Ralph Ross. About a week after the episode was recorded, Stanley met Downey at a party and told him about it, whereupon Downey asked him for my phone number. Ostensibly, it was so he could call and ask for a drawing from the show but, the next day, Downey phoned and tried to convince me to dump Stanley's performance and to re-record the episode with him playing himself.
He said we could even call the character "Morton Downey, Jr." and treat him as a total idiot. I declined…but that almost caused me to dislike the off-camera Downey as much as the on-camera guy. This feeling was reinforced a few months later when I happened to sit near him at the Lawry's Restaurant on La Cienega, and watched him be needlessly rude to the waitress and bus boys. Still, I was sad to hear that all that smoking caused him to die of lung cancer this week. Oddly enough, his death came almost a year to the day after Stanley Ralph Ross died from the exact same thing.
There are many reasons to pay regular visits to www.doonesbury.com — that is, presuming you have even a fraction of the admiration I have for Garry Trudeau's newspaper strip. One is that you can order your Doonesbury books there and, for no extra tariff, they'll come autographed by Mr. Trudeau. Secondly, the site features some very clever games, activities and web animations. Thirdly: You can also now sign up to have the Doonesbury strip e-mailed to you each day. (Actually, they don't e-mail you the actual strip. They send you an e-mail that contains a link to take you to their website — www.ucomics.com — where you can view that day's strip…in full color, no less.) Matter of fact, you can subscribe for any or all of the Universal Press strips, including Garfield, Ziggy, Cathy or even Calvin & Hobbes flashbacks.
You can also sign up for any or all of them over at www.garfield.com. I assume other strips have done this before but for features of this importance, daily e-mail delivery — even of strips that are a bit out of date — is quite significant. And it may have a lot to do with the way comic strips will be distributed in the future.
