Not long ago, the legendary "CBS Television City in Hollywood," which was not really in Hollywood, was sold and largely shut down. I hear there are still some tapings (which are not really on tape) there but most or all of the offices have been vacated, most of the studios are like ghost towns, The Price is Right is being done at an old warehouse out in Glendale, etc. It's just a matter of time before the entirety of what was CBS Television City is displaced by a new, gigantic complex that will combine offices, television studios and retail outlets.
Folks who live nearby (Full Disclosure: I am one) are concerned that what's planned is waaaay too big for that piece of real estate, especially given that traffic is already bad with what's there now. The plans of the developer, Hackman Capital Partners, have been scaled down a bit due to the objections of locals but there is currently a crusade to get them to scale back more…a lot more.
No one, as far as I can see, is objecting to them redeveloping and expanding the facility. I'm not sure in this town, anyone could. There seems to be an understanding that the needs of everyday citizens must never get in the way of someone making a movie or a TV show. If someone wants to shoot a film on your street, there will be only minor controls placed on how many roads they can close, how much noise they can make, how much they can complicate your access to your property. A year or two ago, just a few blocks from me, some movie was setting off explosives in the street.
The film/TV production company will always get most of what it wants because, you know, they're good for the economy. Never mind that you can't get to work.
What it used to be.
I have no doubt Hackman Capital Partners will get all or most of what they want and I strongly suspect the original proposals for all developments of large scope are drawn up to include sacrifices. They want what they're building to be the size of Mars so they announce it'll be the size of Venus. Locals will protest, the company will agree to cut their plans down to the size of Mars and the protesters can be satisfied with that seeming "win." You know how that works.
According to the protesting group in this matter — The Neighbors for Responsible TVC Development — the plans for the corner of Fairfax Avenue and Beverly Boulevard where TV City is/was currently call for a facility of 1,724 million square feet. The protesters are calling for Hackman to eliminate — this is how the group describes it — "a whopping 550,000 square feet of office space unrelated to studio operations." There will be a public hearing tomorrow about this.
I'd go and try to say something if I could but as you know, I'm kinda confined to my home at the moment. I'm going to "attend" instead via Zoom and if you want to learn more about all this, this is the website of the group.
They believe as I do that the current plans are just too friggin' big for an area where traffic ground to a standstill just with James Corden and some actors running out into the intersections to do snippets of his Crosswalk Musicals. I hate to think what adding thousands of drivers trying to get to work there every day will do. If it was all built now, I might not be the only person in the area physically unable to leave his home.
Hey, here's a clip from the last season of Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In when our friend Frank Welker was briefly a cast member. Frank was then still an on-camera comedian who was occasionally doing voices for cartoons. He would soon go almost-full-time into the voice world and become the most-hired-and-heard guy ever in that profession…
Fun to see you posting some of the early Bob Hope stuff. Too many people only know him from the wax dummy that was trundled out to reel off unfunny one liners in front of his TV specials.
Seeing him dancing with Cagney and doing comedy from that period and earlier reminds me of the strong virile and funny Bob Hope of the fifties and sixties and of the classic comedy movies. Great physical comedy and good comedy writing. Dick Cavett and others were always in awe of his comic timing. He seems to have survived later reports of his horn-doggery around women and his well-hidden dislike of Bing Crosby.
Carson reportedly said of the older Bob Hope: "If I ever get that old, shoot me." But Hope is his prime was pretty amazing — a Star. I for one am grateful. Thanks for the (Good) memories.
Hope would never have attained his stature and longevity without delivering the goods earlier in his career. I really am kind of baffled as to how much he should be respected because for the last few decades, he was kind of regarded as a major star in spite of his performances. He was hardly the only comedian of his generation whose later years somewhat canceled out his earlier years.
There are a lot of online articles that say Johnny hated Bob Hope. I don't think it was hate so much as a discomfort that he kept having to have him on to promote those specials…and to use Johnny's studio audience. Bob would "borrow" Johnny's studio audience to record his monologue and closing a day or so before the air date of a special, the rest of which had been recorded a week or three earlier, sans live audience.
I perhaps should not write this but I suspect that if Hope had been born a decade or so later and behaved as he did, he'd have been indicted by the "Me Too" movement and his career would have had a somewhat disgraceful ending. As it was, he sure left a lingering bad impression with some just for what he did in public.
I've recently had conversations with a couple of different friends about performers who keep performing well past their prime. On the one hand, it's sad that they leave such bad impressions behind. On the other, some of them really seem to need that reason to get up in the morning and to try to stay healthy and to get some love from audiences and/or still being famous. I have seen older comedians get way older because no one seemed to want them, no one seemed to remember them.
Mr. Carson, having witnessed the senior years of Hope, Berle, Groucho, Benny and others seems to have valued leaving his legacy relatively intact over hearing applause to his dying day. Carson's longtime producer Fred DeCordova told me that Johnny was very conflicted when a Berle or Benny (especially Benny) would call him personally and say "Hey, you haven't had me on your show for a while. How about next Tuesday?" He felt he wasn't doing them any favors by having them on as a favor. In a few cases, he had them on and regretted it.
I asked DeCordova, "Did he ever turn one of them down and regret it?" Fred said, "Yes, it was kind of a no-win situation." He declined to elaborate.
Following this case, it helps to remember that we're mostly getting our accounts from (a) reporters who were in the courtroom and (b) newsfolks in studios who are basing their views of what's going on in the courtroom by listening to reporters who were in the courtroom. And ultimately what matters will not be what either group thinks. What matters is what the ladies and gentlemen of the jury think.
All the accounts of the folks in the first two groups say it went well today for the prosecution, not so good for the defense. But this is direct testimony that has been more-or-less rehearsed. It's supposed to go well. The question is how things will go when they get around to cross-examination…but even then, we'll only get the perceptions of the folks in those two groups that don't count.
I have to keep reminding myself of these things. In the process, I may keep reminding you of these things.
Let's start the week with a Three Stooges short — and not just any Three Stooges short. This is Micro-Phonies which most Stooges scholars — yes, there are such people — would tell you is one of their best short films…
It's going to be a rough week for those of us who are trying to not follow every little report from the Trump Trial. Trump's former lawyer, "fixer" and executive liar Michael Cohen is taking the stand, probably today, surely by tomorrow. There were a lotta fireworks when Stormy Daniels testified but her testimony wasn't about the issuance of checks, which is what this case is really about. The judge in the case said, while Ms. Daniels was on the stand, he could hear Trump muttering curse words. When Cohen's on the stand, we all oughta be able to hear Trump swearing like a comedian with an HBO special and Tourette Syndrome — and this, without a microphone!
My mother left this planet and my life on October 4, 2012…so 11 years and 7 months ago. She was 91 years old — an amazing achievement when you consider how many Marlboros she smoked per day for most of those 91 years. They probably did not end her life too prematurely but they sure made the last dozen years torturous. She couldn't walk, she could barely see, she couldn't do almost anything without the assistance of one of her caregivers, two of whom robbed her.
In the Quality of Life Department, she was severely punished for all that smoking and for the last half-dozen years of that life, increasingly wanted it to end. A lot of that was because she knew how much she was costing me in terms of time, money, attention and emotion but she also would say things like "I'm so sick of myself" and "Why isn't there a way I can just push a button and painlessly end my life?"
She did have a button. It was on a chain around her neck whenever she was home and not in one of her constant visits to hospitals and their emergency rooms but it did not end her life. Quite the contrary, the button prolonged it, summoning paramedics and/or me. The last few times they and/or I were summoned to help her, she told me that she'd seriously considered not pushing the button. She pushed it, she said, not to save her life but to save her pain.
My folks. I probably took this photo but I'm not sure.
When I think about my mother — which I do, often — I try to think of the happier times. I think about how happy she was in her marriage to my father, who was equally happy to be with her. This would be the most wonderful of all possible Earths if everyone could connect with a Life Partner who was as supportive and loving as my parents were to each other. I also think (immodestly) about how happy she was to have had me and to see me turn out, at least from her POV, so right. In our house, the main way you showed love was to not cause your loved ones problems or grief and we did pretty good at that.
She had many days — no, make that decades of joy before the last few years of outliving her husband and her ability to do anything for herself or anything that brought her pleasure. Still, when I think of her, no matter what happy time period I start in, my mind can't help but wander over to those last, contrasting years. Writing about her now on Mother's Day of 2024, I'm going to try to keep my mind off the Last Act in the life of Dorothea Evanier and write about something that came before…
In past essays here, I don't think I've focused enough on her wonderful volunteerism. If there was something that had to be done — something which meant a lot of work with no tangible or monetary reward — you could count on my mother to put her hand up. And not only to tackle the task but to do it well and in an ingenious manner. The earliest example I can think of at the moment is when I was in the fifth grade (approximately) and my school had a big Halloween Festival one Saturday evening to raise money for…
…well, I don't know what for. But it must have been a good cause.
The event had been advertised by someone who promised a lot of things in the ads — music, dancing, a costume contest, games, prizes, etc. — without giving any real thought as to how they were going to make all those features materialize. The biggie was that there'd be a tour of a haunted house.
Somehow, a squadron of volunteer parents was assembled and one by one, the promises from the poster were distributed for fulfillment: This parent would arrange for music, this one would run some games, this one would organize the costume contest and so forth. Eventually, everything was assigned except for that danged haunted house. No one knew how to do that. No one wanted to have to make that happen, especially since there was no budget.
Guess who said, "I'll take a stab at it." And stab she did.
There was nothing resembling a haunted house on the campus of Westwood Elementary but there were a few bungalows in which classes were held. So the first part of the challenge would be to transform one of those classrooms — filled as it was with desks and books and learning supplies — into a haunted house. This would have to be done between the time class was dismissed at 3 PM on Friday afternoon and the time the Festival commenced at 6 PM Saturday evening. Then the haunted house would have to be transformed back into a classroom on Sunday so class could resume on Monday.
My mother had me draw a map of everything in the bungalow that would have to be moved in the makeover and later put back in its proper place. Then with not nearly enough manpower, desks and chairs were relocated so as to make a winding path through the classroom.
Those who dared to enter the Haunted House would line up at the north door into the bungalow, pay admission and then be blindfolded. My mother or one of the other volunteering parents would then lead the intrepid adventurer through that path as spooky music played. The record she found somewhere ran for twenty minutes so they'd take as many blindfolded kids as possible through the path in twenty minutes, then there'd be a brief pause to reset all the spooky things inside and restart the record.
The spooky things included being offered an eyeball to eat (it was a grape) and a bucket of brains to feel (it was cooked-but-unsauced spaghetti). When I've told this story in the past, I've said that my mother made spider webs out of Silly String, a chemical marvel that comes in a spray can. Online sources however tell me Silly String was invented or patented in 1972 and my mother's haunted house existed for one day around 1960 so I don't know what she used. But she made some sort of sticky web in which blindfolded kids would get tangled…and there were wet pieces of sponge dangling from the ceiling which, in concert with the webbing, sure felt for a shocking moment like spiders. One little girl almost passed out from stark terror.
There were many of these scary things along the path and it took maybe five minutes to get from the north door to the south one where, once outside, you could remove your blindfold having "survived" the haunted house. I watched as my friends all said it was hokey and they weren't scared for a minute. Then they would run around and get back in line to pay another dime (or so) to go through again. And again and again.
It was a huge success. And sure enough, under my mother's direction and with her moving around a lot of furniture herself, the bungalow was transformed back into a classroom by mid-day Sunday.
She did stuff like that all the time…volunteering, figuring out how to do the impossible, contributing time and sheer physical labor. Our home was a polling place on several Election Days and when I hear about Rudy Giuliani and other Trump lackeys wanting to throw ballot counters in prison because their guy didn't win, I can't help but think, "Hey, my mother was a ballot counter and she worked like crazy for almost no money just because it was a job someone had to do!" In this world, selfish people can't recognize how anyone can do anything that is not in their immediate self-interest.
My mother cared about others and not just about us. Down the street from where we lived, there was a sweet little old lady named Mrs. Hollingsworth. She lived alone with a couple of cats and I don't think she had any non-feline family. Any time my mother cooked a big family dinner for some holiday, she'd make enough to prepare a plate for Mrs. Hollingsworth. Then she'd phone her and say, "We have so much food left over, I wonder if I could send Mark down with a tray of it." She always made it sound like Mrs. Hollingsworth was doing her a favor by accepting a free holiday dinner.
And when Mrs. Hollingsworth (who had come to expect it and looked forward to it) agreed, I'd trot down to her home with a beautiful tray of really delicious supper. Mrs. Hollingsworth would always ask me to keep her company while she dined and I would, whereupon we'd have as much of a conversation as an older adult can have with a kid whose age was in single digits. Over and over and over, she'd tell me what a wonderful woman my mother was and over and over and over, I'd just keep saying, "I know, I know…"
Obits like this one list just some of the movies that we had because of Roger Corman…and the long list of important filmmakers and actors who got their starts working for bad money in (sometimes) bad movies with bad budgets. Some of those films are dated, particularly in their treatment of women but there are plenty to form a solid legacy. If you programmed a Roger Corman Film Festival, you could easily fill a theater with delighted movie lovers.
The films speak for themselves. I especially love the original Little Shop of Horrors…though I think I loved it more before everyone discovered it and it was turned into a stage musical and a big-budget movie. Once upon a time, it was a cult classic and those who discovered it came to it with low expectations and thus were delighted.
I met Roger Corman twice. Once was when I helped out a bit with a documentary a friend was producing about him and his work. Some years later, I wrote a screenplay that was optioned — twice! — but never filmed. When things fell through the second time, a person involved with that aborted attempt sent it to Corman who read it and liked it but not enough to buy it. Instead, he asked me in and offered me a screenplay to rewrite for him. The script turned out to be dreadful, the money offered was insulting and the whole thing was non-union — three good reasons to decline, which I did.
But I enjoyed my one long meeting with Mr. Corman who turned out to be a very interesting man with no delusions about his place in the industry. What he was producing was product, pure and simple, and he may have had a more realistic assessment of his marketplace than any producer I met with higher aspirations. I'm sorry he didn't offer me a project I could have accepted because there was much to be learned from the man. I'm sure people will be watching Roger Corman productions for a long, long time.
In writing about that New York trip you took, you said that you took Imogene Coca to see the play Crazy For You and you took Carol Lay to see Laughter on the 23rd Floor. Didn't you have that backwards? Imogene Coca was one of the stars of Your Show of Shows and Laughter on the 23rd Floor was based on Your Show of Shows. I assume you took Imogene Coca to see the show based on her show.
Also, you said that Nathan Lane was playing Jackie Gleason playing Sid Caesar. I didn't quite understand that.
In Laughter on the 23rd Floor, Nathan Lane played a character based on Sid Caesar…but Mr. Lane's manner — and I suppose, his appearance — made him come across more like Jackie Gleason than Sid Caesar. He was very good in the part, by the way. He was very good in everything I ever saw him in.
As for the match-ups of dates to plays: No, I had it right. As I explained way back here…
I had arranged while I was in Manhattan to take her to see the on-stage version of Laughter on the 23rd Floor, the Neil Simon play that referenced his days writing for Your Show of Shows. Since I was bringing her, it was arranged for us to sit in Mr. Simon's house seats.
A few days before, Imogene began to worry that her attendance would be exploited for publicity purposes. She was bothered, she told me, that all the articles and retrospectives about Your Show of Shows were giving less than proper credit to Lucille Kallen, who — in Imogene's opinion — wrote her best material. She said, "I'd feel bad if I were used to promote a play that didn't give Lucille her due." To prevent this, I called the theater's manager (or someone in his office) and was assured that Ms. Coca could attend, quietly and without fanfare.
That was insufficient promise for Imogene, who told me she was developing a "bad feeling" about it. She asked if we could go to some other show and I did some reshuffling. The night after, I was going to take another friend — cartoonist Carol Lay — to see Crazy For You, so I swapped dates. I took Carol to Laughter on the 23rd Floor, with Nathan Lane brilliantly playing Jackie Gleason and calling him Max Prince, who was supposed to be Sid Caesar. At the close of the performance, an obviously-professional photographer scurried down the aisle and began searching the front rows, looking in vain for Imogene Coca.
The next night, I took that very person to Crazy For You. We dined first at Sardi's, where the reception could not have been more regal, had I arrived with Princess Margaret on my arm. Mr. Sardi himself came over, kissed her and told me I was with the most talented woman in the business. Yeah, like I didn't already know that. Then at the show, an array of fans approached her, endorsing that view. One was a tall, skinny young gent who insisted on serenading her with the entire theme song of It's About Time, a short-lived situation comedy she did in the sixties. Another was an even younger man who asked if she was — quote: "the old lady in National Lampoon's Vacation." When she said she was, he asked with genuine curiosity, "Have you done anything else?"
After a few such folks, she turned to me with a genuine amazement and said, "You know, I think this is the first time I've been out in public and nobody's mentioned Sid Caesar."
Imogene was just charming…and very humble. Everyone around us that evening wanted to tell her how wonderful she was. So did everyone at the recording studio when we had her in to do a voice on Garfield and Friends. I have seen people who were very good at feigning modesty while at the same time encouraging everyone to repeat and ramp up the praise. Imogene just wanted to do what she did so well — funny acting — and if people applauded, fine. But she did not live for that.
When folks talk about the great comediennes, especially on television, I rarely see her name mentioned. I can't think of anyone who was better and I'm really glad I got to know her.
For no reason whatsoever, I felt like watching this prehistoric Billy Joel video. Here it is, just in case you feel the same way for no reason whatsoever…
Andy Paquette, a friend of mine and a darned good artist, writes to ask…
Another question for your blog: I am wondering whether some comic book covers were "written" and others weren't. I ask because some covers have strong storytelling and others have none or very little. Almost any Curt Swan Superboy, Action Comics, or Superman cover tends to stand on its own as interesting to look at, to read, and to think about. Many DC covers from the same era have the same quality, while later eras do not.
Neal Adams' covers appear to have been done both ways. Sometimes he was given a story and asked to illustrate the story, or he was given a page asking for a specific scene. On other occasions he was told, "just draw Batman in an interesting/dramatic pose." Or so it seems. My favorite Adams cover, or one of them, is from Phantom Stranger. It depicts a boy pretending to shoot a scientist in a lab, who reacts as if actually shot by a real bullet. In another, from Superman, we see a closeup of Supergirl's boots, the bottle city of Kandor smashing to the ground, and Superman yelling, "Supergirl, What have you done?"
I'm curious how many of these were literally written as covers and delivered to artists much like a script page for an interior story. Some have that feel, and some don't, but I have a hard time believing that almost any cover in the last 20 years was done that way.
It seems like a lost art now. It's a shame, because those "story" covers are what often induced me to buy a comic as a kid, and interests me now as a collector.
The answer — and some people who write about comics don't seem to get this — is that there was a lot of variance in how issues of a comic were produced. Julius Schwartz often told of certain issues where they designed and drew a cover and then handed it to a writer and said, "Here — come up with a story that fit this cover." That made a lot of folks assume they did every issue that way and that's not so. Sometimes covers were conceived and/or drawn before and sometimes after.
And at DC during the period you're asking about, Carmine Infantino was in charge of the covers. Sometimes, the basic idea for a cover would start with the writer of a story, sometimes with the book's editor, sometimes with Carmine, sometimes with someone else in the office, sometimes with the artist. I once watched a cover conference where Joe Kubert walked in with three rough sketches based on an idea that Robert Kanigher was then writing. Joe and Carmine discussed the idea, Carmine looked over Joe's sketches, selected one and then marked up the rough to indicate how he wanted a few things changed…and Joe went off and did the finished art.
The whole conference took about six minutes. Later, Schwartz came in with the finished art for an issue of World's Finest Comics. He and Carmine went through it and picked out a scene in the story which might make a good cover, then Carmine did a sketch which was later turned into finished art by Neal Adams.
During this time, Jack Kirby would send in rough sketches for the comics he was writing, drawing and editing for DC and it became obvious to me that he and Carmine had very different ideas about what made a good cover and how to stage a scene. Carmine had the final word there so the covers on Jack's DC books of the time were usually either based on Infantino sketches or Infantino's modifications of Kirby sketches. I personally think that either man was capable of drawing a great cover but when Jack worked over a Carmine layout, the result was inferior to what either would have done on his own.
Neal Adams was in the DC offices a lot. His rough sketches were very impressive and so was he when he "sold" one to Carmine. So he came up with cover ideas around which stories could be written and he also looked at finished stories — or maybe just the scripts — and came up with interesting cover concepts that were kinda/sorta in those stories. It worked many different ways.
So — to finally answer your question — some covers were "written" and some were just someone coming up with an intriguing cover. No hard and fast rule.
In following the trial — something I often wish I could resist doing — it helps to remember that the trial is not being directly televised. What we hear is coming from observers who were in the room and who may or may not be interpreting it the way you or I would. And a lot of it is coming from folks on a newsroom set who are repeating and perhaps paraphrasing what folks at the courthouse are telling them. And there's a whole mess of mind-reading going on.
So as I'm watching, I'm thinking that…and also how uncomfortable Jake Tapper looks as he keeps having to quote the term "orange turd" that was spoken in the courtroom.
This morning, Stormy Daniels was being cross-examined and if the reports are correct, Trump's lawyers were trying to push the fact that Ms. Daniels has made a lot of money off her alleged encounter with Trump. I guess that's supposed to suggest she has a solid motive to lie but I would think that if she was lying for money, she would make a lot more by making the encounter sound a lot less consensual than she seems to be doing. She does seem to have made the point that Donald Trump is out to make money every possible way he can.
If I understand correctly, the Defense position is that the sexual encounter absolutely did not happen and also that it was absolutely consensual. Meanwhile, CNN seems obsessed with telling us when Trump is whispering to his lawyers. I have no idea why that information is supposed to be of interest to us.
They're on now to less — shall we say "colorful?" — witnesses. I'm going to try to not follow this case, at least until they put Michael Cohen on the stand. That's the exchange I wish they would televise.
