Often, if I am breaking Orthodox Jewish law and someone points it out, I will explain it away by saying "It's OK. I'm part Sphardic." I get a shrug from people not in the know, and a quizzical look or a laugh from people in the know (depending on whether they also know me). It's actually true. I am part Sphardic -- some nonempty subset of my maternal grandmother's ancestors migrated from Spain to Eastern Europe a bit over 500 years ago. Of course that's not why I'm breaking religious law. And, besides, I use that excuse even if the law in question is something followed by Sphardic Jews.
Eating a sandwich during Passover? "It's OK. I'm part Sphardic."
Driving on the Sabbath? "It's OK. I'm part Sphardic."
Wearing a mixture of wool and linen? Well, you get the idea...
So, recently I was at a meeting at work. I was sitting at the conference table, and there was an empty seat next to me. For whatever reason, there was quibbling over seats on the other side of the table. I pointed to the empty seat and said "Don't worry. I showered." As someone walked over to take the seat, I added "last week." Just a joke, mind you.
One of my orthodox colleagues said, "I hope not. It was the Nine Days."
I looked her in the eye and said, "It's OK. I'm part Sphardic."
What made this great is that the custom of not showering for the Nine Days (not that anyone I know of still follows it) was an Ashkenazic-only one. So, of course, my stupid excuse actually made sense.
A while ago, I put out a post with five cover tunes. That was here.
Here are five more. The rules are the same.
1) Baby Let's Play House
The original by Arthur Gunter
The famous version by Elvis Presley
Rachel Sweet's cover version
I wanted to get at thenew wave-flavored cover by Rachel Sweet. But this represented a little bit of a philosophical challenge. Which do I present as the original? The "true" original by Arthur Gunter or the Elvis Presley recording that made the song famous? I decided to go with both.
2) What a Wonderful World
Louis Armstrong's famous version
Joey Ramone's cover
Louis Armstrong's recording is, of course, iconic. But I like Joey Ramone's cover better. It's from his posthumous solo album.
3) Tutti Frutti
Little Richard's original
MC5's cover
I became familiar with MC5's speedy cover of this when I was in college and Desmond included it on a mix tape.
4) The Devil Went Down to Georgia
The original
The cover (under a slightly different name)
The Toy Dolls always managed to inject humor into their act. Here they renamed a classic after a small port city in England. And they changed the instrument from a fiddle to a guitar.
5) I Hear You Knockin'
The original
The cover
This odd cover a Smiley Lewis classic was Edmunds' biggest chart success. Whih is odd considering that a lot of what he's done has been much better. At any rate, I have always found this "live" performance video odd. He strolls through the crowd carrying his guitar while the guitar track is already playing (and he knocks into one of the women). The dancers look like they're stoned. And what is with the guy in the yellow shirt and big brown bowtie? He is first visble in the background at about 8 or 9 seconds in. But he's at his best at 1:20. I mean, seriously, WTF?
A friend recently made some Facebook posts about Space 1999. Though the posts were pretty disparaging (and I was more than happy to pile on -- Bad, Marc! No pastrami for you!), they have kind of renewed my interest in the show.
By way of background, I remember when S99 first hit American TV screens. I was a tween, and I loved Star Trek. So, of course, I was looking forward to the show. My memory of the show from those years is fuzzy. I remember that I liked it at first. I also remember asking my Grandpa Herb about it, and him saying that it was more exciting than Star Trek. But other than that? Not much. I don't know how many episodes I saw, but I don't think it was very many. Oh, yeah, I remember thinking that their laser guns -- which were designed like staple guns -- were pretty goofy.
Fast forward a few decades.
A couple years ago I found some stray episodes on Youtube, and watched them. I've done that with a lot of shows that I remember from my childhood. Maude, Happy Days, Mork and Mindy. Nostalgia an be easily fed by Youtube. Seeing S99 as an adult, I found it virtually unwatchable. It was slow and plodding. Martin Landau and Barbara Bain were wooden. Hell, even the way she turns toward the camera during the opening credits makes Bain look like a mannequin. That two (or so) second sequence starts six seconds into the video below.
It's actually, amazing to watch. Bain and Landau are generally considered to be good actors. Admittedly, I am largely unfamiliar with their bodies of work. But you wouldn't know it from this.
But for some reason, my interest has been piqued, and I'm going to try again. I want to watch the entire series. I am not entirely sure why. So far, I've watched the first two episodes, and I have a few initial thoughts.
My impression from a couple years ago was correct, at least judging from the first two episodes. The pacing is terribly slow, and the stars show little emotion. Is this really the British equivalent of Star Trek? Maybe if the Brits really have that whole stiff upper lip thing. And going along with the slow pacing and the wooden expressions is the complete lack of humor. Trek was written with warmth and humor. This gave the characters depth and personality -- something completely lacking in S99.
In the second episode, "Force of Life," several (I want to say four, but I'm not sure how many) characters died. This strikes me as a big mistake on the part of the production team. Start Trek, takes place on a space ship that's part of a military (or at least pseudo-military) organization. They can kill off characters to their heart's content, and it's not a problem. The ship returns to base and dead crewmen are replaced. No problem. But S99 is set on the moon after a terrible accident blasted it out of the earth's orbit. They're alone out there, hurtling through deep space, with no ability to get reinforcements. That being the case, it seems to me the writers should avoid killing characters. I mean, in Gilligan's Island, they never killed off Ginger.
And, speaking of the fact that they're hurtling through space with no ability to control their direction or speed, I find it amazing that they manage to keep finding planets with life. Seriously. How does that make any sense?
I read recently -- though I forget where -- that the second season had more action than the first. I fail to see how it could have less. But I asked about that on Facebook, and things aren't looking good.
On a closing note, I will say that the opening sequence from Season 1 (shown above) was great. It really made the show seem exciting. It's too bad that the show itself didn't live up to its credits. And the Season 2 opening (below) sucked by comparison. Why did they change it?
The one thing I will say on a hopeful note is that I watched Star Trek Voyager and Enterprise after those shows were cancelled. And, despite the negative comments from the naysayers, I found that both of those shows found their stride, and were quite good by the end. So, we'll see...
A week or two ago, I wrote a post about Alex Rodriguez and the fact that his ending his baseball career with fewer than 700 home runs means that I get pizza. That post was here. Now, it's possible that I jumped the gun. A-Rod didn't actually retire. It's possible that he'll play next year and manage another four homers. He has said that he'd like to get to 700.
And this all reminds me of a bet I made more than a quarter century ago. I won that bet, though at one point it looked like it might end in a draw, all because of the San Andreas Fault.
It was the spring of 1989, and I was in my final semester of grad school at the University of Michigan. The school is in Ann Arbor, just a stone's throw from Detroit. For whatever reason, I said something disparaging about the Tigers. My friend, Rod, overheard, and insisted that they had a good team. So good, in fact, that they would win the World Series. As an aside, let me note that the Tigers finished that year in last place with 103 losses. Anyway, Rod was so certain of the Tigers' greatness that he bet me that they would win the series. Ten dollars. Even odds. He didn't even make me pick a team. It was the Tigers against the rest of Major League baseball. To this day I don't know what Rod was thinking.
Anyway, come the fall, I went back to Ann Arbor for a visit. The Tigers were firmly in last place, mathematically eliminated from the playoff picture. No sooner did I enter the commons room where math grad students hung out, then someone (was it Joe?) suggested that Rod should just pay me. Rod demurred. The Tigers being eliminated from the series wasn't enough to ensure my victory. He pointed out that, by the terms of the bet, I didn't win unless someone else won the series. If no one wins, it's a push.
It seemed silly to me, there had been a World Series winner every year since 1905, and there was no reason for 1989 to be different. But Rod had a point, and I accepted the fact that I'd have to wait another month and a half to get my money.
And that was the year of the earthquake. As the Giants and A's prepared for Game 3, an earthquake struck San Francisco. The series was postponed, and there was talk about canceling. In that event, I wouldn't have won the bet.
The Long Island Daylily Society (LIDS) had their -- had our -- annual sale yesterday in Farmingdale. This was actually the first time I came to it, and though I did help out a little with setting up, and talking to customers (wow! I've gotten to the point where I actually can answer some questions about daylilies), it ended up being largely a social event. For me, anyway.
Blair, on the other hand, spent the entire afternoon on her feet helping customers. When they wanted to know what a particular cultivar's flowers looks like she would look it up on her phone and show them pictures.
Elmore James
At the end of the day we bought a bunch to plant in our yard. For some reason I decided I wanted purples. We ended up buying some of each of the following:
Got No Goat (Baxter) Dip. Purple, white midrib and waterwalk H: 29, D: 6 M. Sev.
Grapeade (Childs, F.) Dip. Purple self with green throat H: 30, D: 6.5 EMRe, Dor.
Prince of Midnight (Salter) Tet. Dark royal purple with green throat H: 28, D: 6 M. Sev.
Resistance is Futile (Baxter) Dip. Polymerous 85%, Light purple with white midrib above green throat H: 24, D: 5.5 EERe., Dor.
Sonic Waters (Hanson, C.) Tet. Pewter lavender self with green throat H: 28, D:6 M, Sev.
Swirling Water (Carpenter, K.) Dip. Purple with cream white splash and green throat H: 22, D: 6.5 EM, Sev.
Woodside Rhapsody (Apps) Dip. Purple self with light yellow green throat H: 31, D: 4
Resistance is Futile
M, Dor.
We would have bought Bela Lugosi, but it sold out -- Blair and I made a decision to only buy after the sale was over, so that we weren't taking anything that the public wanted. I'm actually surprised to see so many diploids on the list -- I've been under the impression that the dips are -- how to put this nicely? -- nebbishy compared to the tetraploids.
I was planning to plant them during the week, but since it was threatening to rain when we got home, we figured it was better to get them in the ground before the rain. Well, it started coming down while we were out therwe, but we just continued. And driversby slowed to stare at these nuts who were gardening in the rain.
The LIDS people will disaprove of this, but we planted without labeling things. To me they're pretty flowers, and keeping track of what's where means more work than I want to put in. It would be helpful if I ever get around to hybridizing. But my interest in hybridizing is still somewhat limited. The big draw is getting to name my introductions. Imagine daylilies with names like "385 Gallons of Money" or "Yammering Gorgon."
This is the third entry in which I present five songs or poems from TV shows. I already discussed the rules so I won't revisit them here. The first two posts are here and here.
1) "Totally Tired" from Square Pegs
Johnny Slash forms a new wave band called "Open 24 Hours." Noteworthy is the fact that he gets John Densmore (from the Doors) as his drummer. Densmore isn't referred to by name, but as "the drummer from the Doors." TYhis is their professional debut, performed at a supermarket.
2) Untitled from The Munsters
Herman recites some string-of-consciousness nonsense, and the hippies love it.
3) "You Need Us" from Gilligan's Island
The Mosquitos have come to the island, looking for a secluded place to rehearse. The castaways decide to show the band that they have musical talent so that they'll rescue them. I don't remember if any explanation was given for why the band would, otherwise, not rescue them. Anyway, the girls perform this little surf tune. Of course, the plan backfires. Far be it for me to spoil things by saying how.
4) "Meditations on Turning Eight" from The Simpsons
Lisa vents in poem form.
5) "Bedrock Twitch" from The Flintstones
There are a few episodes in which Fred performs. In my favorite, he is "Rock Roll."
In the early 1990s I made a hobby out of writing letters to celebrities, politicians and captains of industry. I wrote these letters under the name "Joey Thumpe," for which I assumed the persona of a crackpot. I saved these letters (and the responses I received) in several volumes.
In a conversation at work, I casually mentioned that I had used the pseudonym. A little later I got an email from a colleague with a link to one of my early letters. This was a letter I wrote (as Thumpe) to the Michigan Review in 1998. It's the second letter in the picture at right. I vaguely remember it, though I don't recall why I bothered writing it. Probably just to see how far I could push the envelope. At any rate, this predated the crackpot letters that I would write as Thumpe a few years later. I hadn't yet developed my alter-ego's personality. So I guess this is a bit of the prehistory of Joey Thumpe.
I was nervous about signing up to perform at a talent show at work. For the two and a half weeks between when I signed up and the actual show, I was nervous. Actually, I was of a mixed mind. I was kind of excited, and wanted to tell everyone I work with in the New York office so they could come and see. On the other hand, I wanted it to remain a secret so that no one would see me in my moment of supreme embarrassment.
I was quick to blame the friend who forwarded me the email and suggested I sign up. He pressured me into it, I told anyone who would listen. But the truth was I knew that, if I had passed up the chance, I'd be kicking myself. I'm not a good guitarist. And, as a singer, I'm a great guitarist. But I have long envied people with the musical talent and skill to sing and play an instrument in front of an audience. So I signed up to perform two original songs. I would be showcasing my talent as a writer, I rationalized. And if my performance was really bad, well, hopefully people would be polite enough to pretend that it went OK.
Well, the show was yesterday. How'd it go? You can judge for yourself from this video, but be merciful.
All in all, I think it went well. Certainly better than I feared. No one is going to see this performance and mistake me for a professional quality singer or guitarist. But I was passable for an amateur. Nerves did get the best of me, and my guitar-playing was shakier than it should have been. And, in a couple spots I messed up the lyrics to the first song. Aside from nerves, that's partly die to the fact that I have reworked that song so many times that there are numerous versions floating around my head. But I got applause and positive feedback. And it seemed louder than politeness alone would have warranted. Maybe I'm deluded, but it was a great feeling.
I think I fit in reasonably well in this show. Three people each read poetry. two women performed together giving a talk about language and dialects. And the friend who got me to sign up sang two old songs, accompanied by recorded music. And, as a surprise, the AV tech guy (who happens to be in a punk band called Bedpan Fight) borrowed my guitar to perform an acoustic version of one of his band's songs.
One thing that caught me by surprise was that everyone was introducing their pieces, putting them into context. I hadn't figured on that, but it became clear during the runthrough before the show. So, on the spot I came up with a brief introduction for each song.
For the record, the two songs I sang are "Music No One Else Can Hear" and "Never Fight a Battle Twice." Both are works in progress. I'm tempted to go into the history of the songs, but I'll leave that for another blogpost. Or I won't do it. Who knows?
Now that my cinema ,history class has finished its Bring Your Own Movie session, I turn my attention toward what to bring next year. Right now, I am considering six possibilities. That number may go up or down, depending on how my thoughts proceed.
1) Head (1968)
This was The Monkees' first (and only) theatrical release. Head doesn't really have a single plot, as it meanders between several story lines all in service of the group's combination apology and confession. There's some great music (notably "Circle Sky"), and a lot of notable cameos, including Annette Funicello, Victor Mature and Teri Garr.
I've loved this film since first seeing it (at the Thalia, when I was in high school, with a girl named Sara). I think it still holds up well, although it's really not for everybody.This would represent some good continuity for me, since my picks for the first two BYOM sessions were both musicals.
On the downside, it's a bit of a stretch to call this appropriate for a horror film class. Keith, who runs the class, did note that it's largely fantasy and therefore works. On the other hand, Joe said (after Shock Treatment) that he likes to be told a story. It doesn't have to be a great story, but he wants a story. I suspect that Head would not meet with his approval. Head would probably be my first choice, except for the nagging feeling that it's just not appropriate for the class.
There is one other consideration: I'm still pissed off at the Monkees for the way they released their new album this year and then, less than a week later, released a "deluxe edition" with bonus tracks. That being the case, do I really want to support them?
2) I Am A Ghost (2012)
A good ghost story. I Am a Ghost was written and directed by HP Mendoza who was, at the time, a friend of mine. I saw this at an Asian film festival four years ago, and loved it. But the fact that I'm no longer friends with the director has kind of dampened my enthusiasm, Still, it's appropriate for the class and not really like any other film we've seen together. Joe might object that it's weak on plot.
3) Audrey Rose (1977)
The only movie on this list that I haven't actually seen, Audrey Rose was a reincarnation thriller. While I never saw the movie, I read the book when I was in high school (or was it junior high?) and absolutely loved it. I remember being riveted. I would catch myself believing that reincarnation must be real because there was no other plausible explanation for the events, and have to remind myself that it's just a novel. Of course, having never seen the movie, I can't say whether it was any good, and I've heard that it wasn't.
4) Earthquake (1974)
The big one hits LA. Earthquake was part of a wave of disaster movies from the 1970s. Others that come to mind are The Towering Inferno, The Poseidon Adventure and Tidal Wave. But this stands out because I saw it in a theatre with my mom and sister. It was, in fact, the first horror movie I saw. And it was in "Sensoround." And it scared me. A lot. It actually got me reading up on earthquakes and I determined never to go to California. Spoiler alert: I changed my mind.
5) Jaws (1975)
Jaws was the second horror movie I ever saw. And it scared me to the point that I couldn;t be comfortable in the water for years. And when I say "in the water, I don;t just mean at the beach. Lakes, swimming pools, bathtubs...it was all the same. I couldn't help the haunting feeling that there was a giant shark just inches from my feet. Even as late as two years ago, I was snorkeling in the Sea of Cortez, and couldn;t shake that eerie feeling. I was so spooked that I cut my swim short.
6) The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974)
I was a huge railfan in my youth. In high school, For years, my bedroom was arranged like a museum exhibit of subway memorabilia. I was on the staff of my high school's subway magazine (yes, we had one -- it was called The Straphanger). And I read John Godey's The Taking of Pelham One Two Three many times. For years, I'd seen parts of this movie, but not the whole thing. Basically, if I was flipping through stations on a Saturday afternoon, I'd find that it was on Channel 5 and watch the rest. It wasn't until years later that I saw the whole thing. On the internet. I don't remember what website. Just to be clear, in case it isn't already, we're talking about the original movie, not one of the inferior remakes.
It may be a little bit of a stretch to include this in the class, since it's not really a horror movie so much as a crime drama. But it's probably close enough that I can get away with it.
Bring Your Own Movie month in my film class ended last night with Scott's choice. There are a lot of really famous classic movies that I never got around to seeing. Casablanca, Psycho, Gone With the Wind. And, until last night, The Exorcist.
It sounds cliche to say that this is possibly the scariest movie of all time, but it is incredibly creepy. We're not talking about a lot of jump scares, and it does start slowly. But the tension builds, little by little, until you find yourself, lobster-like, in a pot of boiling water. This movie is famous enough and has been analyzed enough that there's no need for me to provide any commentary here. The class discussion was animated, and it generally got good ratings -- I gave it a 42 (on a scale of 1-10. Suffice to say that it's now one of my favorite movies from the class. The others being The Wicker Man, Corruption and I Drink Your Blood.
Of course Ethan came home talking about this as the scariest movie he's ever seen, which means that Sharon and Asher felt they had to watch it on Netflix. So I got to see it again, though this was the original theatrical release -- in class we saw the 2000 rerelease. Honestly, I think I prefer the original release. There were some omitted scenes with doctors that I liked in the rerelease. But much of what was added back in actually detracted. The spider crawl scene on the stairs would have been good, but they sped it up or something, and it felt out of place. And the little conversation at the end between Kinderman and Dyer seemed unnecessary.
Class will be on hiatus for a few weeks, so I'll be having withdrawal pains.
I'm generally not big on advocacy documentaries -- that subset of documentaries that are, effectively, editorials on film. That's independent of whether or not i agree with the point. And it's largely because it's too easy for a talented filmmaker to cherrypick the facts and anecdotes in order to make the point in convincing manner. You want a film to convince people that 9/11 was an inside job? Pick your "experts" judiciously, and edit your footage the right way, and you can make one. You want a film to convince people that 9/11 was perpetrated by the Mossad? That's doable. Martians? A bit harder, but I'll bet a good documentarian could pull it off.
So, with that mindset, I was a little hesitant to see Can We Take a Joke, a documentary about censorship and sensitivity on college campuses, explored through the lens of stand-up comedy. But I've read and hear a lot about the rising attacks on free speech on campus. About how students increasingly need safe spaces to protect them from the harm of hearing opinions that they diagree with. And I find these trends deeply troubling. These students who refuse to let dissenting voices be heard are doing themselves and their classmates a grave disservice, since they are removing some of the learning opportunities from the college experience. But, more importantly, they are becoming a threat to one of the fundamental freedoms that this country was founded upon.
There was a lot in this movie that I thought was very well done. There's a description of events at Washington State when a student play was shut down by hecklers. And there's the student comedian at Reed College whose show was interrupted when a woman in the audience took offense and charged the stage. The subjects being interviewed (generally, stand-up comedians) made many good points, and they were often quite eloquent.
Yet, in some ways I felt disappointed. Often the discussions turned to arguments that the performances or speech that was deemed offensive really wasn't offensive. They may have been right about that, but it turned the argument in the wrong direction, implying that if the performances really were offensive then it would have been acceptable to shut them down. The point should have been that if you think a show is offensive you have every right not to go see it -- but you don't have the right to decide that no one should see it. Similarly, some of the comedians talked about the value in comedy, about it shedding light on our shared humanity -- or some such (I forget the exact quotes). Again, that's taking the argument in the wrong direction by implying that if there's no value then it's OK to censor it.
What I also noticed was the fact that, in this movie about the evils of censorship was the way some of the talking heads self censored.
Case in point, Lisa Lampanelli. She talked about how, for her, nothing's off the table.Then, to illustrate, we see a clip from one of her performances. She thanks "the Blacks and Spics" for coming. Hmmm. Any word she knows to avoid? Then she went on a jag about potentially getting raped by Blacks.So, let's keep score here. It's OK to imply that blacks are rapists, but not to use the n-word. And, of course, there I go -- using a euphemism too. Similarly, Gilbert Gottfried talks about the incident when Mel Gibson was recorded screaming at his ex-wife into the phone. Gilbert, who seems to be OK with any boundary-breaking, was careful to avoid breaking the same taboo. He changes the word to "African Americans," and then says "of course he didn't say 'African Americans.'" My son was the one who pointed that out to me.
Of course, this movie suffers from the same problem as any advocacy documentary. It's preaching to the choir. And the choir will love it. But people who are inclined to disagree with the point are not going to be convinced.
According to today's paper, Alex Rodriguez will end his career (at least the playing part of it) this Friday. Which means that, barring him having a really good week, I will win two slices of kosher pizza..
A few years ago (maybe seven? eight?) I made the prediction that A-Rod would not get to 700 career home runs. At the time, people were talking about the possibility of him breaking Barry Bonds' career record of 762. But I expressed my doubt because he had had a history of steroid use, and we'd seen how athletes with a history of steroid use can be prone to nagging injuries and/or reduced performance. One example -- Mark McGwire. In 1998 he hit 70 home runs to set a then-record. But he retired at age 38 at the end of 2001, due largely to injuries. And aside from the example, I've read various articles on the subject -- not that I'm claiming to be an expert. IIRC, A-Rod was also starting to show signs of nagging injuries.The other side of the argument was that he was young enough (and there was enough money ion his contract) that he'd keep on plugging away. Surely there were enough seasons left that, even with diminished production, he could get to 700.
And a bet was made. Two bets, actually. I bet two guys at work, each one slice of pizza, that A-Rod would not get to 700 career homers. These are Orthodox Jewish guys, so it has to be kosher pizza. I'm not sure if we specified that in the bet. But it was implicit. And, actuaries that we are, we had all sorts of discussions about the fact that if he made it the payoff would be before his retirement while if he didn't make it the payment would be later (at his retirement). Do we need to adjust for the time value of pizza? Also, what if he retires without making it, payment is made and then he comes out of retirement and makes it? And what if he makes it, payments are made, and then the MLB retroactively purges his accomplishments from the record because of some steroid scandal. We decided that we could worry about crazy scenarios if and when they happen.
So, for a bunch of years I've followed A-Rod's career with a mix of emotions. He looks strong. Then weak. Around 2011 I was looking pretty smart as his seasonal output kept declining. It was only a matter of how fast it would decline. But he did better in 2012! Then came 2013 and his suspension that would run through 2014. Surely this was the death knell for his career. But he came back in 2015 a new man. He hit 33 homers in 2015, ending the season 687 for his career and two years left on his contract. Going into this year, my bet wasn't looking good. As he started the year decently I came to accept that I was going to lose. And I was OK with it. Happy even. I'm generally uncomfortable with the idea of rooting against someone. What's that old Hebrew expression? Don't rejoice in your enemy's downfall? And A-Rod is hardly an enemy. I got to the point that I was looking forward to him getting to 700. And if I have to pay for the pizza party, so be it.
But A-Rod has been slumping, and I guess the feeling is that he won't come out of it. So, with 696 career home runs, he announced that his last game will be on Friday. Unless he hits 4 homers this week, I win. And yet, I am disappointed. I had come to hope that he'd get to 700.
I can't help wondering if he should sit out the rest of this year and rest. After taking a full year off he came back strong. Maybe a few extra months would allow him to do well enough next year. But, of course, they know better than I do.
What actually makes me sad is to see a once-great player go out this way. No victory lap. Just a press conference and a whimper. The steroid use will probably keep him out of the Hall of Fame, and has definitely diminished his popularity.
Thursday was Ethan's turn in "Bring Your Own Movie" month of our film class. His choice, the 1958 Hammer film, Horror of Dracula starring Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee.
I don't recall ever seeing this film before, though Ethan says he did. Some years ago -- maybe ten --
Publicity poster from 1921's Dracula's Death
someone on Freecycle gave us a carload of CDs, DVDs, videotapes and books. This was one of the movies. Ethan apparently watched it and liked it. In his talk, Ethan focused more on the history of Dracula movies than on this movie itself. He started with something from the late 19th century, and narrated forward until some point where the genre exploded. He included some stills and a poster from a 1921 Hungarian production of Dracula's Death. He then talked about this movie and why he likes it. It's the iconic Hammer film, it has both Cushing and Lee, and it's the movie that put Christopher Lee on the map.
For Ethan, I think this was an interesting choice -- a fact I noted in the after-movie conversation. This is the second year of our timeless BYOM tradition, and a pattern has emerged. Dave showed Attack of the 50 Foot Woman last year and Creature from the Black Lagoon this year. Those are two classics of the genre, and movies that I could esaily see Keith showing -- if Dave hadn't picked them. I picked The Rocky Horror Picture Show last year, and Shock Treatment this year. That's two musicals written by Richard O'Brien. These are not at the top of Keith's hit parade, though he does say that he may have eventually gotten to Rocky Horror. For two years, Joe tied horror movies to TV and, instead of showing a movie, made a presentation. Steve showed us The Sixth Sense last year. He is no longer in the class, but his de facto replacement, Scott, is showing The Exorcist next week. These are both more-modern movies that have won accolades and are thought of as serious film instead of simple horror pulp. But Ethan, with two years of choice, has gone in two very different directions. Last year he chose Battle Royale, a 2000 Japanese thriller about students placed on an island and forced to fight to the death. That film, full of graphic blood and guts and a few jump scares was very much the modern horror movie. And he followed it up with this iconic Hammer film from 1958. But, while these two movies went in very different directions, they were both great choices for the class.
The film itself was, in my opinion, kind of good, but not great. Christopher Lee was a better Dracula than Bela Lugosi. He moved quickly and menacingly -- he almost ran up the stairs at one point. The use of color was particularly interesting. The settings consisted largely of grays and muted browns. But there were splashes of saturated reds -- the cover of a diary, the cushion on a chair. That created an interesting contrast. There were also some points where the action was riveting. But all too often the movie had long sequences of unnecessary talk.
The first time I saw Mallory Lewis perform (with her puppet, Lambchop) was five years ago. Mallory was scheduled to do a show at Heckscher Park (where all the food is certified Kosher -- thanks, sis, for that awful joke) as part of the Huntington Summer Arts festival. Nature intervened, and there were hurricane conditions, which kind of make an outdoor performance a bit dicier. But we went anyway, and found that there were plenty of others who had braved the elements to come and watch the show. Well, for safety or equipment reasons, the show was cancelled. But Mallory didn't want to disappoint her fans. So she invited everyone into her dressing room where she could give an intimate show. In fact, there were too many people to fit, so she did two shows. I was very impressed by that display of appreciation for her fans.
And we were back last night, for another go. But this time with a twist. As I may or may not have mentioned on this blog (I'm too lazy to check), Ethan has gotten us involved with a charity called StackUp. StackUp supports our armed forces and veterans through videogames and gaming. Ethan and I are essentially co-leaders of the Queens chapter of StackUp. Since we were planning on going to the show, and we know that Mallory Lewis has a long history of supporting the troops (as did her mom before her), we figured that it would be a natural fit to turn the trip into a Stack event. An email or two later, and Mallory had agreed to give StackUp a shout out during her show.
In some ways it's funny. For a month or so, during the weekly StackUp meetings (I mean the online organizational meetings -- not the chapter meetings), they would mention this upcoming event. By the end, there would be comments about how it seems like this has been on the horizon forever.
Well, as a Stack event, this was better than we could have hoped for. Pretty much at the beginning of her act, Mallory talked about StackUp. She explained what the organization does, and she did it with humor. Meanwhile, somehow, Ethan was allowed to sit at a corner of the merchandise table and give away Stack-Up stickers and wristbands, and talk it up. I should note that, at this point, our role in the charity as a whole seems to be primarily to spread the word. And this worked well. Afterwards, Mallory took time to talk to us and take pictures of us. We tried to buy a couple of Lambchop puppets. But Mallory and her son, Jamie (who, BTW, is planning to attend the Air Force Academy) wouldn't take payment. Instead, they said to donate the cost to StackUp. So, Steve M, if you're reading this, Blair will be paypalling that to you. Or maybe mailing a check. I don't know which.
As for the show itself, it's an interesting tightrope she has to walk. By its nature, Lambchop is a an act designed for kids. But a big part of the attraction is nostalgia. Her natural audience consists of adults who remember Mallory's mom, Shari Lewis, and her shows with Lambchop. That's especially true of parents who want their children to have the Lambchop experience that they remember. What all this means is that she has to put on a show that kids will like but that has enough sophistication for adults. And she manages this balancing act remarkably well.
Part of how she does this is by varying things. This is not simply a puppet show; it's more a multimedia presentation including puppets in some segments. Mallory starts with some schtick, interacting with Lambchop. Then a salute to America with a medley of patriotic songs. Then a clip show tribute to Shari Lewis. Then a song in which she lists the presidents -- that one sounded like something out of Animaniacs. You get the idea.
One theme that was present in this show -- to a much greater extent, I think, than in the show five years ago -- was nostalgia for Mallory's mother. Aside from the reel of highlights, there were several extended segments showcasing Shari dancing, or singing. Mallorty was often talking about her mother and her mother's influence on her. And she ended with a film of Shari's last performance. Now, I need to admit that I didn't grow up watching Shari Lewis. I knew who she was, because I spent many afternoons after school at a friend's house, and the friend's younger brother often watched Shari on TV. So, not being familiar, I was wowed to realize how talented Shari Lewis actually was. In addition to ventriloquism, she sang and she danced. Particularly impressive were the dance routines where she was essentially attached to dummies so they moved with her. I found that amazing. And part of me now regrets not experiencing her when I was a kid. I am guessing (tough I don't have any inside knowledge) that Mallory shook things up for this particular show, since it was on the 18th anniversary of her mother's death. That made it a bittersweet experience.
Shari Lewis memorial video, put together by Mallory Lewis, and featuring Shari Lewis' final performance
On a personal note, Blair overheard her, after the show, mentioning that she wished there were someone there to say Kaddish for her mother. Well, we had a yarmulke in the car and I have a Siddur on my phone -- something I got when my father passed away nearly two years ago. So there I stood in Heckscher Park, saying Kaddish alone, while making sure to keep it in mind that this was for Shari Lewis. I'm not sure if that's halakhically acceptable, but I felt touched by it.
I really enjoy the list videos that are all over Youtube. A few examples -- titles copied off of Youtube -- will illustrate the kind of stuff I mean.
Top Ten Best TV Show Characters
Top Ten Smartest Movie Villains
Top Ten Celebrity Falls From Grace
You get the idea.
But there's one topic that I take issue with. That is, videos where the topic is actors who passed up plumb roles. Don't get me wrong -- I still enjoy those videos. It's interesting to imagine how Grease would have turned out if Henry Winkler had played Danny Zuko. Or, what about Pretty Woman with Molly Ringwald.
But I find myself increasingly annoyed by an assumption that implicitly underlies these videos. That is, the notion that these movies and TV shows would have been the same with different actors in the lead roles, Actually, that assumption isn't purely implicit in all of these videos. I recall one of them referencing how much richer Sean Connery would have been if he had accepted the role of Gandalf in Lord of the Rings. The figure was based on the offer that was made to him and the actual box office receipts for the movie. Seems to me that that's incredibly insulting to good actors, as it dismisses the value of what they bring to the table. Would the Raiders of the Lost Ark have been the same success with someone else playing Indiana Jones? No. It might have been a huge success. Or it might not have been. Each actor brings something unique to a role, whether it's something intangible -- the subtle wit and charm that contribute to the perfect delivery -- or something very tangible -- an iconic moment that was improvised. And, by the way, it's not just what the particular actor does. It's also how the other actors react and interact. Call it the butterfly effect or movies.
If you have any doubt, just try imagining Casablanca with me in the iconic role of Rick. IMDB, here I come!
