What's on TV: Wednesday, July 1, 1953

You might have noticed Hal LeRoy guest-hosting for Arthur Godfrey on Arthur Godfrey and Friends. The Old Redhead had hip-replacement surgery (on both hips!) in Boston last month, which was a pretty revolutionary procedure at the time. His recuperation lasts four months, during which time he broadcasts his radio program from a studio constructed at his farm in Virginia. The whole nation seems preoccupied with Godfrey's recovery; later in the year, they'll be preoccupied with him in a different way—when he fires Julius LaRosa—but, of course, that's another story. This week's listings are from Chicago.

This week in TV Guide: June 26, 1953

What has TV done to men? Naturally, I'm eager to find the answer to this question; it's likely to be far less expensive than going through analysis. However, while this one-page article is written tongue-in-cheek, I believe it makes some serious points about modern society and the impact perception has on reality.

"Whatever happened to men?" our unidentified author asks. "You know, those strong, dominant, intelligent creatures who built empires, struggled for democracy, and delved into nature's secrets. Where did they go? What cataclysm left us with the stupid, bumbling nincompoops who pass as males today?" The answer, of course, is television.  

Yes, thanks to our favorite medium, and heroes such as Robert Beanblossom (Bob Cummings on My Hero), Ozzie Nelson (Ozzie and Harriet), and Chester A. Riley (William Bendix on The Life of Riley), the American woman "thinks of her man, and any other man, as a Prime Idiot. She also sees how easily Lucy outsmarts Ricky, how capably Sapphire beats up the Kingfish [Amos 'n' Andy], and how smoothly Margie manages her father [My Little Margie]." As a result, we get the general idea that men are a bunch of losers, worthy of little more than scorn and ridicule.

There are reasons for this, not all of which are necessarily whimsical: programs are written chiefly for a female audience, and most of the sponsors' products are geared toward women: soap, appliances, food, etc. Therefore, styling men in this fashion "pleases the female, causing her to dash to the nearest store to buy whatever the sponsor advertises." Men have little say in the matter, given that of the top 25 shows in the ratings, men comprise the majority of viewership for only two: the Wednesday and Friday night fights. "So with women comprising the bulk of the audience, and women liking shows that portray stupid men, it looks as if men—who are brilliant, kind and charming*—will continue to be maligned on television." Ergo, any change is unlikely, given that "our children are watching too, and by the time they grow up it will be a generally accepted fact that women are the dominant sex. That means today's little girls are tomorrow's Amazons. Today's little boys are tomorrow's mice."

*I would amend that to read, "can be brilliant, kind and charming," but the point stands.

This is, I think, a future that has largely come to pass. Just look at modern society, and how much of it has been feminized and emotionalized: politics, religion, education, literature and the arts, the corporate world; why should television be any different? The best example of this is probably the kind of programming one sees on outlets such as the Hallmark Channel. Whereas Hallmark used to present classic stories of strong-willed, heroic men, today we're confronted by sensitive, stubble-faced blokes with muscles enough to crush steel, but so gentle they wouldn't disturb the petals of a flower. Is that really the kind of masculinity we need in this day and age? 

One hears a great deal today about "toxic masculinity," the concept of which I firmly reject as being a thing. Still, to the extent that it exists at all, it's hard to deny that its roots lie in a rejection of the male castration that has taken place in popular culture. This is not an argument for enforcing outdated concepts of men and women; this week's article certainly carries a tone of lighthearted chauvinism. But history and experience have taught us that truth is often buried within the folds of humor, and this is no exception. This is the world we live in today, and any attempt to overcompensate for this is bound to wind up in disaster. Until we find a happy medium—a natural medium, I would say—we're bound to reap the harvest we have sown.

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Well, that was a bit intense for openers, wasn't it? Let's try something a little less stressful—like mysteries. Chicago Daily News columnist Jack Mabley, who performs the honors as TV critic for this Chicagoland edition of TV Guide, has seen three TV mystery shows over the past six months. The first was the long-running series Danger, and this episode (which we know aired on April 28, thanks to the always-reliable Wikipedia) featured singer Johnny Desmond making his TV acting debut. The story and the acting were both a bit over the top, Mabley thought, "but maybe that's the way they want it in New York to impress us yokels." 

The second show, which is unnamed, "concerned a pretty young lady who opened the front door to find a stranger who said he was her husband. She insisted he wasn't her husband, and he insisted he was. He even produced some old family friends who said he was. She put in a nervous half hour, because she had paid to have her husband murdered. She didn't admit it until just before the final commercial. The pretender, of course, was a policeman."

The third show was an episode of The Web from a couple of weeks ago. It "concerned a pretty young lady who opened the front door to find a stranger who said he was her brother. She insisted he wasn't her brother, and he insisted he was. He even produced some old family friends who said he was. She put in a nervous half hour, because she had paid to have her brother murdered. She didn't admit it until just before the final commercial. The pretender, of course, was a policeman."

Now, if you think the last two stories were just a bit, perhaps, derivative, you couldn't be more wrong. After all, one of them features a wife wanting to murder her husband, and takes place in London. In the second, it's a sister wanting to murder her brother, and takes place in San Francisco. Not only that, but the wife is a brunette, while the sister is a blonde. See the difference? I thought you would.

On a more serious note, Mabley suggests that, over a period of perhaps six months, one might see 60 mysteries on television, with perhaps seven or eight different storylines, and that sounds about right to me. "Maybe I'm spoiled by Mickey Spillane," Mabley concludes, but of the hundreds of mysteries he's watched, "I haven't wholly enjoyed one since seeing 'Lucky Night' put on by Bill Eddy's WBKB crew early in 1948." Notwithstanding the local angle, that's a pretty sad return on one's investment of time. It probably isn't much different from any other television genre, unfortunately.

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Speaking of which, what exactly is on TV this week? Is it all mysteries and male-bashing, or can we look forward to something completely different?

Back in 1953, the start of the TV Guide week was Friday, and the home of the Chicago Cubs was WGN. (Ah, for the days of the Superstation. Why couldn't I have been retired back then?) Today, the Cubbies take on the New York Giants; coverage begins at 12:45 p.m. CT, with Baseball with the Girls, followed by the pre-game at 1:00, and the game at 1:30. That night, on The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet (7:00 p.m., ABC), we get right to the heart of the matter, with one of Ozzie's neighbors telling him that "women prefer unpredictable men." I suppose that might be true, but you can see what kind of hilarity will result from this, can't you?

On Saturday, it's one of those lovely mysteries, albeit one that originally premiered in the theaters: The Chinese Cat (Noon, WGN), starring Sidney Toler as the great Charlie Chan, who has four hours to solve a case that's stumped the police for six months. Think he can do it? Considering Toler still has nine more movies in the series, my money's on the Chan man. In primetime, it's Bob Cummings as the aforementioned Bob Beanblossom, who "tries to serve eviction papers but turns kitten when he has orders to be "The Tiger" on My Hero (7:00 p.m., NBC). 

Little-known fact: before Hallmark Hall of Fame turned into a series of acclaimed specials, it was a weekly series that aired on Sunday afternoons, and had as its host and occasional star the noted actress (and daughter of Winston), Sarah Churchill. This week, she stars in "My Own True Darlin'" (4:00 p.m., NBC), an original musical comedy for television, based on the real-life story of the "Mercer Girls," women who moved from the East to Seattle to become wives. Yes, it's the basis for the series Here Come the Brides. Later, on Ed Sullivan's Toast of the Town (7:00 p.m., CBS), guest host Tony Martin welcomes opera star Roberta Peters, the comedy Wiere Brothers, the dance team of Elsa and Waldo, harmonica player Richard Hayman, and comedian Joey Foreman. Had there been a Palace, I think it would have stood a good chance this week.

On Monday, Voice of Firestone (7:30 p.m., NBC) tunes up for the 4th of July next week with a salute to Independence Day, starring Metropolitan Opera tenor Eugene Conley, singing a medley of patriotic songs. On Summer Theater (9:00 p.m., CBS), tonight's drama is "Greed," with Hurd Hatfield as a young man whose desire for his grandfather's fortune leads to a murder attempt with either riches or suicide in the offing. There's no word as to whether or not he's confronted by a man at the door insisting he's his grandfather, and is even able to produce some old family friends who say he is. The midnight movie on WBKB, Beyond Tomorrow (1940), is now considered a seasonal movie, if not quite a Christmas tradition; it's the story of three old men who invite a young couple to their mansion for Christmas dinner. Watching it in June is kind of like popping It's a Wonderful Life in the DVD to celebrate Labor Day.

Tuesday's episode of This Is Your Life (8:30 p.m., NBC) is, presumably, a rerun since the honoree is Roy Rogers, and Ralph Edwards famously kept those identities a secret in the days of live television. Meanwhile, on Danger (9:00 p.m., CBS), we run into a familiar theme: in "Surface Tension," "an oil prospector begins to imagine that his best friend and his wife are falling in love, so he plots to murder the friend." See, there is some variety in these shows—unless, that is, a man shows up at his front door who says he's his best friend, and. . . oh, never mind.

Here's something I've not encountered before: on Wednesday afternoon, WGN's 4:00 p.m. movie (title yet to be determined) is a "full length feature cut down to accommodate the ending time of the ball game.") That would be the Chicago White Sox game against the St. Louis Browns (soon to be the Baltimore Orioles), which begins at 1:30 p.m. The movie is scheduled to run until 4:45 p.m., which means it could be cut to, say, even 30 minutes. Can you imagine tuning in to Ben Hur and finding out you're getting the Reader's Digest Condensed version instead? In fact, the game, won by the Sox 13-4, runs 2:38; assuming it started at 1:35 (the National Anthem, etc.), it would have ended at 4:13 p.m., and if you figure, oh, five minutes to sign off, that means we get 27 minutes for the movie. Otherwise we run into Beany and Cecil, which probably had higher ratings.

Dinah Shore signs off for the season at 6:30 p.m. on Friday (NBC), and when she and the cast come to the studio, "they find it empty, and so take on the duties of the stage hands and erect the scenery themselves." (Probably violating some kind of union regulation, but whatever.) In this week's cover story, writer, producer, and director Alan Handley says Dinah is one of the best stars to work with in the business. "When you tell a star that on the next show she is to slide down a fireman's pole and her reply is, 'Can I wear slacks or do I have to do it in a dress?' then you know you're working with a real star."  She has, Handley says, a "rare combination of talent, beauty, brains and sheer graciousness." No matter what the task, there are never any complaints, never a sign of ego. I'll admit that while I haven't read much in-depth about Dinah Shore, this seems to jibe with what I do know; I've never heard anyone speak ill of her. Says Handley, "Her warmth and sincerity don't go on and off with the stage make-up."

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Rumor abound that color television might be available to the public by Christmas of this year. Could it be? The RCAS all-electronic compatible system, one of three competitors competing for approval from the FCC (the other two being CBS's mechanical disc system and the Lawrence tube, developed by Drs. Ernest Lawrence and Luis Alvarez.) In the case of the RCA system, "all-electronic" means that the transmission is handled by image orthicon tubes, as is the case with black-and-white transmission, while "compatible" refers to the ability of the color image to be received by standard sets in black-and-white. That said, what you can see here is an actual picture taken "directly from the face of a television set tube during a demonstration of the RCA system," next to the same exact picture in black-and-white. (The model is the charming Marie McNamara.) 

As you can see, the quality of the color picture is excellent, repeated tests have been successful, equipment is in experimental use, and some sets have already been manufactured. So what's holding things up? In a word, politics.

So far, the FCC has approved only the CBS system, which is not compatible; in other words, "you could receive these color telecasts in black-and-white only if you purchased adapters and converters." Several Congressional leaders, backed by the mighty influence of the RCA corporation, are pressing for FCC approval of the RCA system, but were that to happen, you'd require two sets, one in each format, to receive all the color programs available, since the systems are not compatible with each other. The new sets are likely to be quite expensive, at least until the tubes can be mass-produced. And Dr. Allen DuMont believes that a three-dimensional system should take precedence over color. 

Before we can look forward to color broadcasts in our homes, at least three things have to happen. First, the FCC has to make a final decision on which system is to be used. (spoiler alert: RCA wins.) Second, the equipment for transmitting color telecasts has to be standardized. And third, color sets will need to be put on a mass-production basis to lower costs. 

In other words, there ain't gonna be a color TV under the tree this Christmas.

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A quick take on some coming attractions: Oscar-winner Broderick Crawford is talking about a turn on TV, in a series called Manhunt. I wonder if that doesn't wind up being Highway Patrol, which premieres in 1956 and has a successful four-season run in syndication. 

NBC is looking at big changes in its daytime lineup; Dave Garroway's Today show, currently seen only in the East and Midwest, will be available in California this fall. The show will be kinescoped from the live feed, and then replayed at 7:00 a.m. Pacific time. Also, the network plans a mid-morning hour-long show called Home, hosted by Arlene Francis, which will feature "drama, music, how-to segments and news, all geared to the housewife audience." It's all part of Pat Weaver's plan for the complete broadcast day; the third member of the triumvirate, Tonight, will be along next September. 

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Television hasn't quite relegated network radio to the sidelines (although it's doing its best), and we're reminded of that by an ad for WMAQ radio—I like that idea of radio advertising in TV Guide—which mentions that Bob Hope's daily radio program can now be heard a hour earlier, at 9:30 a.m. Monday through Friday. It's a show "designed especially for women" (so it isn't just television!), with "chatter, guest stars, human interest stories, 'a lady of the week' feature, Jell-O recipes and the inevitable gags and cracks. Remember gals, it's WMAQ for daytime Hope at 9:30 a.m. every weekday." Who says everything is Hopeless? TV  

Around the dial

All right, we start this week at bare•bones e-zine, where Jack's Hitchcock Project continues apace with "Final Escape," a ninth-season episode with a horror ending and a fascinating "rest of the story." 

Speaking of horror, or at least something creepy, at Cult TV Blog John looks at the 1974 anthology series Dial M for Murder (clever name, what?) and the episode "If You Knew Susie," starring the great Elaine Stritch; it's an episode well-worth checking out.

It's TV time again at RealWeegieMidget, and this time Gill's focus is on three TV series having to do with aliens: Project UFO, a Polish series; Orson Welles' Great Mysteries, with the great man himself; and Weird or What, hosted by that greatest of all actors, William Shatner.

Comfort TV takes us on a journey into The Twilight Zone this week, as David looks at three hits and three misses from the series' storied second season. I agree with his assessments completely, which is appropriate since, as David points out, I included one of these episodes in my new book!

Remember "picture stories"? They were kind of like comics, except they used photos taken from TV episodes, using captions to describe the action. At Captain Video, the story in question is "Operation Tycoon," from Ben Casey, and it makes me want to find the episode and watch the whole thing.

Gentle Ben! Certainly I recall that series, perhaps because it was on Sunday nights and came on after football (and Lassie). Also, that was a really cool boat flying through the Everglades. Anyway, Paul reviews the first season at Drunk TV. (Maybe drunk bears would have solved a few problems.)

At A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence has tributes to the two most recent classic TV stars to join the list of the dearly departed: teen idol Bobby Sherman, who died earlier this week at 81; and Waltons and Sanford and Son veteran Lynn Hamilton, who died last week at age 95. You can also read about Bobby Sherman at Television Obscurities.

I think Roger makes a very good point at The View from the Junkyard in talking about this week's A-Team episode, "West Coast Turnaround": what happens to the people the Team helps after they leave, given they don't kill the bad guys, only humiliate them. It can come back to bite you! TV  

What I've been watching: June, 2025

Shows I’ve Watched:	Shows I’ve Added:
Adventures in Paradise New York: A Documentary Film Sherlock Holmes	Danger Man

If it seems a little lame to be writing about a series I'm watching for the second time, then I'm afraid I'll have to plead guilty. Thursday evenings have been problematic for a while, between finishing work on the book (Darkness in Primetime, for those of you scoring at home, or even if you're just watching) and keeping up with this here blog. What makes them more challenging is that the Friday "Around the Dial" feature can't really be finished until Thursday, to make sure I include as many blogs as possible. Additionally, if I've fallen behind on my weekend TV Guide essay, Thursday evening becomes an advantageous time to catch up. Therefore, it had become a kind of "To Be Announced" evening, one in which I might be viewing, or I might be typing. What better way to fill in a tentative gap than with a rerun of a beloved series that won't suffer if I happen to miss a week here and there?

This all brings us to Jeremy Brett's definitive portrayal of Sherlock Holmes in the succession of adventures bearing the Holmes name. I won't take a lot of time to recap, because I've written about the show before, but suffice it to say that Brett, who played Holmes from 1984-94 is everything you'd want Holmes to be: quirky, quick-witted, self-assured, occasionally tortured, frequently arrogant, and virtually always right. He's also surprisingly nimble, of body as well as mind, and I bring that up because it points out how important the physical portrayal of Holmes can be. That physicality projects not only his determination, but the rapidity of his mind; and his body language establishes that, for the criminal, he truly is a dangerous man.

Holmes is aided in his sleuthing by his loyal comrade, Dr. Watson, played by David Burke in the first season and Edward Hardwicke in subsequent seasons. This is a Watson who is very smart indeed, a far cry from the bumbling Watson we see in Nigel Bruce's portrayal; he's not at the level of Holmes, of course, but he's learned well from his compatriot, and each episode contains a bit in which Watson demonstrates how he's picked up on the art of observation, often listing the very same clues that Holmes has seen. The difference, of course, is that Watson frequently fails to come to the same conclusion—that is, the correct conclusion—as Holmes, and the cutting retort from Holmes can sometimes be painful, to us as well as to the good doctor, who is the most loyal of friends. Holmes is always quick to temper his remarks, though, and there's no doubt that when he compliments Watson, it is no mere flattery. The chemistry between Brett and both of his Watsons is excellent; it makes them a truly compatible, and formidable, team. Throw in literate, even elegant, scripts (many by John Hawkesworth) and period details that create a perfect atmosphere, and you've got just the thing for those nights when you're looking for a break. Oh, and did I mention that since plugging the Holmes repeats into the schedule, I haven't had to spend even one evening working on the blog? No mere coincidence, I suspect.

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The second half of Thursday night's dynamic duo—and, if I'm being honest, the program most likely to get preempted if I do have work to catch up on—is Adventures in Paradise, or if we're going to be precise about it, James A. Michener's Adventures in Paradise, which ran on ABC for three seasons and 91 episodes between 1959 and 1962. The show has the look and feel of a Warner Bros. production, with an exotic location, and impressive list of guest stars, and a hunky hero who winds up being involved in solving mysteries. Not all the time, perhaps, but more often than you or I are probably called upon. (The last mystery I had to solve was tracking down where I'd left my missing brain.) 

It's not a WB show, however, but one from 20th Century Fox, and the man responsible for it as co-executive producer was Dominick Dunne, who, prior to reinventing himself as a true crime author and raconteur par excellence, was a television executive looking to cast the lead in his new series. As Dunne tells it, the studio had been screen-testing "all the best-looking young actors in Hollywood" for the part, and Ron Ely had the inside track. Then, along came Gardner McKay:

One day in a coffee shop, I saw, sitting at a nearby table in a languid pose, reading a book of poetry, a startlingly handsome young man with attitude, whom I later described to Martin Manulis, the head of television at Fox, as "a little Gary Cooper, a little Cary Grant, a little Ty Power and a lot of Errol Flynn." He was at the time, in the parlance of the town, nobody, absolutely nobody, but his attitude declared that he was somebody. I dropped my Fox business card on his table and said, "If you’re interested in discussing a television series, call me." He did, and we tested him. Gardner’s test was certainly not among the top three or four in the acting department, but as the production staff sat in the projection room, we’d keep going back to it, and one of us would say, "This guy’s got something." Finally, we gave him the part. 

That's exactly it, I think; it fits my perception of the series perfectly. Watching it, you come away with two things: McKay's not a great actor, by any stretch; and there's something about him, a presence that makes you certain of two qualities that all television heroes have to have: everything's going to turn out right in the end, and the villain of the piece is going to be sorry he tangled with him. He also comes across as a very interesting person—McKay, I mean, not the character he plays, Captain Adam Troy, although Troy is a pleasant-enough character. And indeed McKay was an interesting man: he wrote books and plays, was a newspaper drama critic, and taught a writing class. He didn't really like acting, although, as Dunne says, he liked being a star, and he was good at it.

The point is that, while Adventures in Paradise is not great television, it is fun television, another reason I make the comparison to the WB detective shows. Each week Captain Troy and his schooner Tiki III, sailing the South Pacific "looking for passengers and adventure" and finding it; else, where would the series be? I don't know if your life is going to be dramatically enhanced by watching the episodes available on YouTube, and you're not going to be taxed if you do something else while you're watching it, but I've never found it less than enjoyable, and sometimes you just aren't in the mood for hate-watching a series.

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In 1999, PBS premiered a documentary series called New York, which was about the history of the city so nice they named it twice. It was directed and co-written by Ric Burns (brother of Ken), and at the time of its premiere, it was far behind schedule and was shaping up to last far longer than its scheduled 10-hour duration. Finally, the decision was made to release the first five episodes (ten hours in all), covering the years 1609-1931, on five consecutive nights in November 1999; the concluding episode (which quickly ballooned to two episodes) would air at a later date. 

As fate would have it, those two episodes, dealing with the city from the Great Depression to the present, aired on September 30 and October 1, 2001: 19 days after the destruction of the World Trade Center. The final episode was quickly edited to include a reference to the terrorist attack, and then, in September, 2003, came yet another episode, a three-hour special that focused solely on the Twin Towers and their own history. In all, the series ran for eight episodes and 17½ hours. 

Watching it again for the first time since its original run, I'm struck by several things. First is how overwhelmingly unlikeable the city is, and how exaggerated in importance it is. Note that I said "importance" there, not "influence," because there's no question that New York City pulled the strings in this country for many years, for good and ill. What hits you, though, is how much ill there is to it: not only an obsession with democracy and diversity that even the series can't convince you has been successful; but the sheer arrogance of it all, the idea that the rest of the country really is "flyover" territory, good only for providing tourist dollars. (And wouldn't it be great if one could get the dollars without having to deal with the tourists!) For decades, people have looked at New York as not really being a part of the United States at all, but something separate, strange, alien. New York serves to reinforce that attitude two, three, four times over. When you see the famous "Ford to City: Drop Dead" headline from the 1970s, you want to stand up and cheer.

And yet.

New York: A Documentary Film is, without a doubt, one of the most fascinating, compelling documentary series I've ever seen. It comes by that honestly, with a cast of colorful characters that rivals any fictional series television ever came up with, from Al Smith to Fiorello La Guardia to Robert Moses; an architectural history that spans Central Park, the Empire State Building, and the aforementioned World Trade Center; a history that does seem to encompass the whole of American history; a remarkable place, all in all, with something that other places just seem to lack. Even the hatred one might have for the city has to acknowledge this.

And the series, for my money, is the equal of anything brother Ken ever produced. David Ogden Stiers's overall narration is superb, neither cloyingly emotional nor deadly dull; the voice talent, provided by well-known actors and personalities reading letters, newspaper articles, and speeches, is completely appropriate, letting the written words speak for themselves; the commentary, from noted historians and public figures, is both knowledgeable and articulate, and even if you disagree with what they're saying, you can't stop listening to them. The combination of paintings, still photographs, and video (some of it quite remarkable) is riveting, and the score, primarily that composed by Brian Keane, is heart-rendingly evocative.

The final three episodes, which cover New York's fall into disrepair and disgrace, its recovery and rejuvenation, and the horror and heartbreak of September 11, are the most outstanding parts of this series, but without the previous five episodes to set the stage, they wouldn't be nearly as good, which is one reason why the entire 17½ hours need to be consumed. And at the end—or is it? Another two episodes have, for some time, been said to be in the works, bringing the series up to date—a viewer comes away from it exhausted and exhilarated, inspired and disgusted, and understanding that great cities, like great people, can inspire both love and hatred at the same time. And why shouldn't that be the case? After all, a city remains, ultimately, a collection of people: good and bad, rich and poor, beautiful and ugly, admirable and dissolute. In the case of New York, it just seems to have more of all of it than anyplace else. And perhaps that's just the way they'd have it. TV  

What's on TV? Thursday, June 26, 1969

The Miss Wool of America Pageant is, admittedly, not one of the more glamorous titles in the world of pageant lore. Its location, San Angelo, Texas, isn't as famous as Atlantic City or Miami Beach. None of its winners, as far as I can tell, went on to any lasting fame. And yet it had a 20-year legacy, from 1952 to 1972, as well as a run on national television; you can even see a clip from the 1968 pageant here. Art Linkletter was the host for that, as he is in tonight's broadcast from the Northern California edition.

This week in TV Guide: June 21, 1969

This week's cover story is a fascinating interview with Jackie Gleason by Larry King, who had the very easy task of asking Gleason what he thinks about a number of topics, and then sitting back and letting The Great One share what's on his mind. On the assumption that what's good for Larry King is good for moi, we'll follow suit and let Jackie take center stage; he is, as one might suspect, never at a loss for words. Therefore, here's Gleason on:

Fame: "It's a strange thing about popularity. You want it all your life and when you get it, after you're a success, anonymity is priceless. I’m a nut for five-and-ten-cent stores. | like to wander around notions counters and things like that. | can't do that today because a lot of people would stop me. Yet, I’d be disturbed if they didn’t. That's the paradox of this business. You want everybody to present you with accolades and you want everybody to say, ‘Oh, there he goes; there’s the Great'One.’ And, at the same time, you want to be alone."

The networks: "Every television performer has problems with his network. The performer always thinks he’s bigger than the network. It’s a constant kind of war . . . We were trying to put on a show and we would have people strolling in at all hours, the hierarchy you know, and they were telling us how to do particular things. So I went right to Mr. Paley [William Paley, chairman of the board of CBS] and said that I wanted a letter from him saying that I was to have sole control over my show, with no interference from anyone. He gave it to me. Now I just show it to these guys before they say anything to me."

Psychiatry: "I can see how it helps certain people, but I’ve never had a need for it. Once some friends told me that I was too fat because of some mental hangup. I thought it was because I liked to eat a lot. Anyhow, they suggested I see a psychiatrist, so I did. He weighed about 270 pounds. I tried to help him with his problem."

The Now Generation: "I'm encouraged by part of it. I feel some good is done and some bad. The trouble is they’re so mixed up you can’t discern who’s who. That’s the problem. Some are sincere and some are not. Some really want some good for everybody and the others are sincere about their insincerity. It’s tough. You can't tell what's constructive and what’s destructive. I don’t feel out of their world, but I guess I would if they were running the whole show. . .  I don’t rap the long-hair thing. Christ had long hair. So did Ben Franklin and those people. You can't judge people by the way they dress. A genius might be under a Daniel Boone jacket."

Religion: "Being a Catholic is no hangup with me. You know when you've sinned and you know the consequences. I thought of switching religions to have a more comfortable way of sinning. I studied them all. At first they appeared very attractive because they were easier, not because they made more sense. I believe you should stick with the religion you’re brought up with. Religion is an obligation . . .| know you don’t have free will. What you have is free choice. You can't jump over the ball park, but you can choose to think about it."

Living in Florida: "I’m here to stay. I’m addicted to golf and here I can play it all year 'round. The people here have been nice to me. You know, Larry, Howard Hughes offered me one million dollars, tax free, to take my show to Las Vegas. I almost fell out of my chair. The thought of one million clams, tax free, doesn’t happen every day. I thought about it and decided not to. I wouldn’t like Las Vegas no matter what I got."

Life: I’m 53 years old. I love what I do. I have all the money I'll ever need. I’m not looking for challenges. I do what I do very well and think I get better at it. My weight doesn't bother me because I don’t mind it. I like good food so I eat it. I smoke because it’s a habit I’m too old to break and I enjoy cigarettes, too. I drink because it’s a lot of fun. I admire great boozers. Guys who can go all day and never show it. I play golf every day and am more fascinated with it all the time. . . Everything I've wanted to do I've had the chance to do. Life ain't bad, pal."

As I said, never at a loss for words. They called him the Great One for a reason.

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From 1963 to 1976, TV Guide's weekly reviews were written by the witty and acerbic Cleveland Amory. Whenever they appear, we'll look at Cleve's latest take on the shows of the era. 

When the summer season comes upon us, our man Cleve often turns his attention toward programs that wouldn't ordinarily find their way into his column, and this week is no exception, as we look at the venerable sudser As the World Turns, now in its fourteenth action-packed season. In case you haven't followed the show lately, here is a capsule summary for your benefit. It is, as Amory says, "really very simple, once you get the hang of it":

Start with Chris. Chris is married to Nancy, who is the mother of Bob, who was married to Lisa, who had an affair with Michael, who was married to Claire, who is the mother of Ellen, who is married to David, who is the father of Dan, who is married to Susan, but who is in love with Liz, who is dating Paul, who is doctoring Martha, who is the mother of Sandy, who is engaged to Bob, who was married to Lisa and is the son of Chris. See, we're right back to Chris. It’s just one big happy family circle, or, actually, two family circles—the Hughes and the Lowells—who, among other things, are congenital intermarriers. But don't worry about that. If you want to worry about something, worry about the illegitimate children. The place is crawling with them. 

Got all that? It provides us, says Cleve, with an example of what we've come to call hate viewing. You'd think that with all this bed-hopping going on, things would be pretty entertaining, but, in fact, "It's all so deadly serious that the best way to watch it is in a kind of negative way. Don't root for, root against." And it seems that this is exactly the way its "fans" watch it. When Eileen Fulton, who played villainess Lisa Hughes, left the series, fans were furious. "They had become so devoted to hating her that they demanded her return." She did return, eventually, but do you think that changed things? Upon running into a viewer who wanted to know if she "was" Lisa Hughes, Futon smiled and said she played the "part," whereupon the woman "slapped Miss Fulton in the face, shouting, 'You're mean! You're rotten! You're despicable!' She was, of course, a fan of Lisa's. As well as a typical soap opera fan, we have to think.

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Since we featured Jackie Gleason in this week's lede, it's only appropriate that we begin Saturday with a look at a full-hour Honeymooners skit, in which the Kramdens and Nortons continue their shark-jumping around-the-world trip (7:30 p.m., CBS). Don't think that things are all fun and games, though; while in Paris, Ralph and Norton are arrested for passing counterfeit francs. My money—and it's not counterfeit—is on them to work their way out of it. But if you want some real crime drama, stay up late for the 11:00 p.m. movie on KOVR in Sacramento: Compulsion, a fictionalized account of the Leopold-Loeb case, with Dean Stockwell and Bradford Dillman as the youthful killers, and Orson Welles in a brilliant performance as their attorney, who in real life was Clarence Darrow.

No "Sullivan vs. The Palace" this week, as Johnny Cash fills the summer Hollywood Palace slot; Ed's still hard at work, though, and his guests this week are Flip Wilson, Jackie Mason, country singer-guitarist Sonny James, singers Karen Wyman and Hal Frazier, and the Georgia Tech Glee Club. (Sunday, 8:00 p.m., CBS) 

Remember when Bill Cosby was a respected role model, a man who crossed the color barrier to become America's favorite dad? Yes, well, times have changed, haven't they? On Monday's NBC Children's Theatre (8:00 p.m.), Cosby hosts "As I See It," a presentation of short films made by youngsters between the ages of 6 and 12, who were given the opportunity to "film their world as they see it." They then talk about their lives with Cosby, who shares memories of his own childhood growing up in Philadelphia. Later, on Dick Cavett's prime-time show (10:00 p.m., ABC), Dick welcomes an eclectic big-name cast: opera star Beverly Sills, movie star Natalie Wood, political columnist Drew Pearson, and comedian Pat McCormick.

Remember when 60 Minutes was just a twice-monthly series of specials? That's how it was back in 1969, and on Tuesday's program (10:00 p.m., CBS), Yugoslavian leader Josip Tito is interviewed on the challenges posed by the youth movement and calls for more freedom. Tito was one of the rare Eastern block leaders who was respected in both East and West, and his ability to hold Yugoslavia together is even more impressive today given how violently the country fragmented in the post-Soviet era.

Wednesday features a rerun of last season's highly-regarded special The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (9:00 p.m., ABC), starring Jack Palance as the man with the split personality, produced by Dark Shadows creator Dan Curtis, and written by Ian McLellan Hunter. Over on NBC, Kraft Music Hall, which is hosted by Sandler and Young for the summer, features guest Sid Caesar. (9:00 p.m.). If you're looking for something a little different, here's a program that won't interfere with either of these shows: Book Beat (8:30 p.m., NET), with host Bob Cromie interviewing the legendary Lillian Gish on her book The Movies, Mr. Griffith and Me. 

The most challenging show of the week—or any other week, for that matter—is probably The Prisoner, and the disturbing episode "The Schizoid Man," in which Number 6 is confronted by his double. (Thursday, 8:00 p.m., CBS) It's the second year in a row that CBS has used The Prisoner as a summer replacement series, and as was the case last summer, it's by far the best thing going. Cass Elliot has a variety special tonight (9:00 p.m., ABC), with an eclectic guest cast to say the least: Buddy Hackett, Martin Landau and Barbara Bain, Mary Travers, Joni Mitchell, and John Sebastian. And in the "wasted potential" category, the Thursday night movie is The Defector (9:00 p.m., CBS), Montgomery Clift's last film, a cold-war drama that, according to Judith Crist, is a run-of-the-mill antiheroic espionage film, "wasting talent along with fine location atmosphere."

The Name of the Game on Friday is "The Black Answer" (8:30 p.m., NBC), as reporter Jeff Dillon (Tony Franciosa) is thrown into the investigation of the killing of a non-violent black activist; the suspect is a black militant group called the Black Battery, led by Joe X (Ivan Dixon). A more conventional thriller finds The Saint embroiled in an assassination attempt against the prime minister of a British colony (10:00 p.m., NBC); Roger Moore is joined by Edward Woodward for the thrills.

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The Doan Report notes that the recent Emmy show was a very bad advertisement for television, but not quite in the way you think. The best comedy series award went to Get Smart, which had been cancelled by NBC (although subsequently renewed by CBS). The best comedy-writing award went to The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, likewise cancelled. And then there were the acting awards: best dramatic actor went to Carl Betz for Judd for the Defense, best actress to Barbara Bain of Mission: Impossible, and best comedy actress to The Ghost and Mrs. Muir's Hope Lange. You guessed it; Judd and Mrs. Muir were cancelled (although the latter was picked up by ABC), and Bain had already left M:I. And if that weren't bad enough, the award for best dramatic series went not to any of the commercial network contenders, but to NET Playhouse. There's no disputing the quality of that show, given that it was awarded a Peabody earlier in the year, but none of this speaks very highly of the commercial networks.

Doan also has a note on this little thing coming up next month called a moon landing. Can you believe it's almost here? NBC has announced plans to preempt 30 consecutive hours to cover the landing, including all 22 hours that astronauts Armstrong and Aldrin plan to be on the moon's surface, with coverage beginning at 11:00 a.m. on the Sunday of the landing. CBS and ABC quickly announced similar plans. Boy, I can still remember that like yesterday; one of the most amazing things those of us who were alive back then will ever have the privilege to see.

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Back on June 1, ABC had a special called D-Day Revisited, hosted by movie mogul Darryl F. Zanuck, who returned to the beaches of Normandy, where he filmed his epic The Longest Day in 1962. Zanuck provided commentary on the battles of that monumental day, accompanied by clips from the movie. 

I'm not sure what the network's expectations were for this program, but based on this week's Letters section, I think I can be fairly confident in saying that this is not what they were counting on. As you know, whenever there's a disputatious issue being discussed in the section, the editors present a cross-section of letters that roughly correspond to the ratio of opinions expressed in said letters. If that is, indeed, the case, I'd say the response was universally negative.  

We begin with this letter from Nicholas Snider of Coaling, Alabama, who compares the program to CBS's 1964 documentary in which the Normandy tour guide was none other than General Eisenhower himself. Zanuck's version, says Mr. Snider, "was so inferior as not to be noticed, were it not for its unrelenting vulgarity. That the program itself was completely inept is one thing, but that one hour of such shameless horn-blowing should even consider itself a tribute to human courage or the war dead is the ghastliest sarcasm of the season."

We next move on to U.S. Representative Frank Horton (R, NY), who accuses Zanuck of using the solemn occasion as a cheap ploy to promote the upcoming re-release of The Longest Day in theaters. It was, he says, "a transparent attempt to capitalize" on the efforts of the men who landed at Normandy, and adds, for good measure, "It seems in bad taste to tie the marketing of such entertainment to the gallant efforts of the men who died on those beaches a quarter century ago. The facade fell away quickly as soon as the first promotion spot came on the television screen, advertising the fact that the motion picture would “soon be seen at your neighborhood theater."

The coup de grâce, however, belongs to this brief letter, which serves, I think, as the final word on the issue. "Despite certain overtones reminiscent of a barker’s come-on at a county fair, and the self-glorification which seemed to emanate from ABC’s 'D-Day Revisited' program, neither a book called 'The Longest Day,' nor the screenplay of the movie, was written by Darryl F. Zanuck. In the midst of his celebration of himself, he might do well to read 'The Longest Day' dedication: 'For all the men of D-Day.' They, not Mr. Zanuck, made 'The Longest Day.'" It's signed "Mrs. Cornelius Ryan, Ridgefield, Connecticut, " and she should know: her husband did write the book and screenplay.

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MST3K alert: Village of the Giants (1965) A mysterious substance causes teenagers to become giants. Tommy Kirk, Johnny Crawford. (Sunday, 2:00 p.m., KXTV in Sacramento) There's no two ways about it; this is just an awful movie, so bad it isn't even good. What movies like this never try to explain is how, when people suddenly become giants, they don't just tear right out of their clothes like the Incredible Hulk. Somehow, though, even if they'd all suddenly become naked, I don't think that would help matters much.  TV  

Around the dial

It came as a revelation to me, many years ago, to see a reference in an old TV Guide to "Win" Martindale. At first I assumed it was a typo, but as we can see in this post from the Broadcast Archives, Wink Martindale was known, for a time, as Win. Either way you look at it, he was one of game show history's biggest winners.

At Comfort TV, David's journey through 1970s TV takes us to Monday nights, 1976. The highlight, of course, was Monday Night Football, but for every touchdown (Little House), there's an incomplete pass or two: The Captain and Tennille, All's Fair, Executive Suite. Stick to the movies and the game.

John returns to the world of the private detective at Cult TV Blog, with a look at the Shoestring episode "Find the Lady," with our heroic private "ear" on the trail of a murder—or is it? Check out an interesting story with a stellar guest cast.

At Captain Video's Secret Sanctum, we take a look at 2009's Spaceballs: The Animated Series, which ran for 13 episodes, and is pretty much exactly what you'd expect from an animated Mel Brooks project. I wonder what I was doing that I don't remember this?

Does a movie count as TV if you saw it on your television? It does in this case, as at Classic Film and TV Corner, Maddy reviews the top four performances from one of the all-time greats, Toshiro Mifune. I've seen all four of these movies, and I can't argue with a one of them; they're all superb.

Speaking of superb, at The View from the Junkyard, Roger reviews the concluding episode of The New Avengers, "Emily," which serves as a fitting end to the series, "a celebration of everything this show does best."

At A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence pays tribute to the legendary Brian Wilson, who died last week at 82. He was certainly a familiar face on television in the 1960s, given the prominence of the Beach Boys, and one of those tortured geniuses who accomplished so much, and paid a price for it.

Martin Grams is back with another selection of book reviews designed to appeal to the TV and film buff in you. I mention these not just because they sound interesting, but to remind me that I have a pile of books to review myself, all on hold while I finished my own book. Which is done, by the way.

And that leads to my reminder that if you'd like to sign up for updates on Darkness in Primetime: How Classic-Era TV Foresaw Modern Society's Descent into Hell, you can do so at this link. There's another reveal next week leading up to the August release date; why not take a moment to sign up? TV  

The home of tomorrow, today

with my book Darkness in Primetime: How Classic-Era TV Foresaw Modern Society's Descent into Hell scheduled for release in August, it seemed an appropriate time to resurrect this piece from five years ago, when I took another, less sinister, look at how television of the past predicted the future. Enjoy!

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We spend a lot of time looking back at the past in an effort to understand it, but it can be just as enlightening to consider how the past viewed the future. Does our present look anything like the future that was imagined in the past?

For example, the computers in Star Trek appear laughably primitive when compared to today's technology (which is likely one reason why the remastered versions of the series have upgraded special effects). In fact, today's technology has far surpassed what Gene Roddenberry & company imagined; there's probably more power in an iPhone than there was running the Enterprise. Sometimes it seems as if we're afraid to let our imaginations truly run wild and imagine the possibilities. On the other hand, we still don't have the flying cars from The Jetsons.

Before pro football completely took over Sunday afternoons, CBS had a long-running documentary series called The 20th Century, which took a look back at the major historical events of the century. In January 1967, the show changed both its title and focus; renamed The 21st Century, the program now looked forward to what the future might have in store.

In that light, I'm reminded of David Gelenter's book 1939: The Lost World of the Fair, in which Gelenter reminds us that much of the scientific progress on display at the 1939 World's Fair was designed for one purpose: to make our lives easier. Not that there weren't world-altering inventions on display, but we shouldn't underestimate the importance attached to such technological marvels as the washer and dryer or the refrigerator. We may take them for granted now, but these were major accomplishments.

With that in mind, let's take a look at this episode of The 21st Century from March 1967, in which Walter Cronkite hosted this episode, entitled "At Home: 2001." How much do you think they got right?

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