Nov. 27th 1988
Watching 'shadow of a Doubt'
After years of delay, MCA Home Video has released "Shadow of a Doubt," the most disturbing and involving of Alfred Hitchcock's directorial efforts. This 1943 film is the last of Hitchcock's American movies to be released on tape, and I think 1937's "Young and Innocent" is the only one of note from his British period that is still not available.
Hitchcock was brought to the U.S. by young David O. Selznick, owner of the best "independent" studio in Hollywood, and creator of the enormously successful film version of "Gone with the Wind."
Hitchcock directed the Academy Award winning "Rebecca," truly more a Selznick film than a Hitchcock, and from then on, ironically, made his best movies while out on loan to other studios, with such moving works as "Notorious" (1946), "Suspicion" (1941), and "Shadow of a Doubt." Once released from Selznick's contract, Hitchcock produced and directed a series of successes that made him the best known director to filmgoers. During the 1950s, Hitchcock's name on a film guaranteed box-office cash.
Grotesquely fat and drinking heavily, he and his work went into decline during the '60s and '70s, but he left behind more then 50 films with fascinating tricks of audience involvement.
Made while the director was on loan to Universal Studios, "Shadow of a Doubt" effectively uses the theme of such earlier works as "The Thirty Nine Steps," that of a man on the run from the police, and in this case turns it on its head. "Uncle Charlie" Oakley, played with chilling intensity by Joseph Cotton is in reality the "Merry Widow Murderer," a man who makes a good living marrying, and the killing rich old ladies. He takes refuge in the small town of Santa Rosa, at his sister's house, and it is his niece, "Charlie," named for the beloved uncle, who slowly discovers the truth about him.
Those who have seen other movies by the director will recognize the situation: an innocent, in this case an entire family living in a routine-formed vacuum, is struck by lightening, yet only young Charlie realized it. The family is beautifully cast: Henry Travers plays the unassuming head of the family, fearful of his boss and anxious to keep up appearances. His doting wife is played with charm by Patricia Collinge. As the younger kids, Charlie Bates and Edna May Wonacott are unusually distinctive characters for the '40s film, and the prize is Teresa Wright the oldest child, "Charlie."
"Shadow of a Doubt" is not just a simple thriller. It is also an appealing portrait of small town life (everyone knows young Charlie by name), yet also giving an occasional glimpse of Sana Rosa's underbelly. One of the most poignant scenes is when Uncle Charlie drags his niece into a bar to talk over what she suspects. They are waited on a by a dull eyed, apathetic girl who admits to having been a waitress in "half the bars in town." She turns out to be an ex-classmate of young Charlie, and gives us a glance at what direction charlie might have gone.
But the most chilling thing about this movie is its bent towards nihilism. If the Merry Widow Murderer is not found out, it won't mean a whit to the small town - nobody except the principals will be the wiser. Amidst the bosom of family and the friendliness of the neighborhood, each individual is an island, and some are pretty bleak islands at that. The Thorton Wilder, Sally Benson, Alma Reville script is clever and entertaining, the music is adequate, and cinematic tricks show Hitchcock hitting his maturity, and the dark vision amidst the bright cinematography is a juxtaposition that won't leave you laughing.
This one's a winner.
Shadow of a Doubt" can be rented locally at The Video Stop and the The Record Rack, and it would make a great "keeper" at its reasonable purchase price of $24.95.
Mac Rush works in the Banner's composing room.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Watching two old friends
Nov 20th 1988
Watching two old friends
Two old friends are back on network TV; and, as sometimes happens when old friends visit, one outwears his welcome quickly and the other has potential to be invited for a long stay.
Our "cocktails only" guest is "The Dick Van Dyke Show," on CBS's WRGB Channel 6, Wednesday at 8p.m. Van Dyke stars in a half-hour sit-com about a small rural theater owned by the fun-loving Dick and his competent partner/son played by this real life son, Barry. In spite of the script writers' attempts to distinguish between the two, these players are so alike that it is like being in a time machine.
Dick is the same old Dick as he was in the 1961-66 show of the same name, dissembling, fumbling, mumbling when confused, and easily upset but afraid to express it, Or, to put it another way, the "Rob Petrie" character that was so funny when the Van Dyke was 36 years old has not developed a bit now that he's 63.
Watching this season's "The Dick Van Dyke Show" is like being in a time machine in more then that, however. It is like watching of the 50's or 60's situation comedies in color, complete with cloying, sentimental music to start, a separate moving shot of each character with the actor or actresses name displayed (actually a boon to a critic), and unrealistic, space-cadet plots where the minor glitches in the flow of people's lives become major crises. Attractive, helpful, all-knowing women, an amusing Black man, jack of all trades, and an adorable angelic, tow-headed child complete the picture of a show that is not for the 1980s.
The saddest thing about this effort is that Van Dyke showed such potential early on. Through too young for vaudeville, he certainly carried on the tradition of Jimmy Durante, George Burns and Bob Hope with a nice balance of slapstick and quick gags, while adding a depth of uncertainty that was appealing in the 1960s Rob Petrie character. But he seems to be a case of arrested development in the new show and that's a shame for a person who had such promise.
Once Dick leaves, we can welcome his old co-star, Mary Tyler Moore, a woman whose talents have developed considerably since the early '60s. As Laura Petrie, she was a whiney beauty with a partially developed personality and comedic sense. By 1970, she was brilliant in her show about a single, reasonably well adjusted career woman tackling professional and personal problems in hilarious fashion on what I think was the greatest sit-com aired.
True, Moore's career has been a series of ups and downs; she was a disaster in Broadway and Hollywood after "The Dick Van Dyke Show," came to fame and fortune on "Mary Tyler Moore Show," became a surprising success in a new try at film and theater, yet failed in two attempts to make another hit in prime time.
But Mary's back again, in "Annie McGuire," following Van Dyke at 8:30 p.m.At age 52, she obviously keeps herself in fine shape, perhaps looking a bit too dieted and overexercised. After all why shouldn't a woman of 50 look 50?
Moore plays the still-lusty wife of a widower, Nicky, played in chunky, charming style by Dennis Arndt. The most unusual convention of "Annie McGuire" is that is uses voice-overs to show what our characters are thinking, and in that way it's reminiscent of an old Rock Hudson, Doris Day movie, but with no virgins. Her character is much as it was in "The Mary Tyler Moore Show"; she double-deals in her personal relationships, not because she is "bad," but because of an odd quirk in her personality.
I'd hardly call this show brilliant but it shows promise if it gets away from the overdone look of the otherwise welcome sexual tension between Annie and her husband.
"Annie McGuire," unlike "...Van Dyke...", has the potential to grow, and seeing whether it does or not makes is at least a house-guest for a few weeks at my place.
And glory on glory it has no laugh track.
Mac Rush works in the Banner's composing room.
Today is my dad's birthday, I miss him.
Watching two old friends
Two old friends are back on network TV; and, as sometimes happens when old friends visit, one outwears his welcome quickly and the other has potential to be invited for a long stay.
Our "cocktails only" guest is "The Dick Van Dyke Show," on CBS's WRGB Channel 6, Wednesday at 8p.m. Van Dyke stars in a half-hour sit-com about a small rural theater owned by the fun-loving Dick and his competent partner/son played by this real life son, Barry. In spite of the script writers' attempts to distinguish between the two, these players are so alike that it is like being in a time machine.
Dick is the same old Dick as he was in the 1961-66 show of the same name, dissembling, fumbling, mumbling when confused, and easily upset but afraid to express it, Or, to put it another way, the "Rob Petrie" character that was so funny when the Van Dyke was 36 years old has not developed a bit now that he's 63.
Watching this season's "The Dick Van Dyke Show" is like being in a time machine in more then that, however. It is like watching of the 50's or 60's situation comedies in color, complete with cloying, sentimental music to start, a separate moving shot of each character with the actor or actresses name displayed (actually a boon to a critic), and unrealistic, space-cadet plots where the minor glitches in the flow of people's lives become major crises. Attractive, helpful, all-knowing women, an amusing Black man, jack of all trades, and an adorable angelic, tow-headed child complete the picture of a show that is not for the 1980s.
The saddest thing about this effort is that Van Dyke showed such potential early on. Through too young for vaudeville, he certainly carried on the tradition of Jimmy Durante, George Burns and Bob Hope with a nice balance of slapstick and quick gags, while adding a depth of uncertainty that was appealing in the 1960s Rob Petrie character. But he seems to be a case of arrested development in the new show and that's a shame for a person who had such promise.
Once Dick leaves, we can welcome his old co-star, Mary Tyler Moore, a woman whose talents have developed considerably since the early '60s. As Laura Petrie, she was a whiney beauty with a partially developed personality and comedic sense. By 1970, she was brilliant in her show about a single, reasonably well adjusted career woman tackling professional and personal problems in hilarious fashion on what I think was the greatest sit-com aired.
True, Moore's career has been a series of ups and downs; she was a disaster in Broadway and Hollywood after "The Dick Van Dyke Show," came to fame and fortune on "Mary Tyler Moore Show," became a surprising success in a new try at film and theater, yet failed in two attempts to make another hit in prime time.
But Mary's back again, in "Annie McGuire," following Van Dyke at 8:30 p.m.At age 52, she obviously keeps herself in fine shape, perhaps looking a bit too dieted and overexercised. After all why shouldn't a woman of 50 look 50?
Moore plays the still-lusty wife of a widower, Nicky, played in chunky, charming style by Dennis Arndt. The most unusual convention of "Annie McGuire" is that is uses voice-overs to show what our characters are thinking, and in that way it's reminiscent of an old Rock Hudson, Doris Day movie, but with no virgins. Her character is much as it was in "The Mary Tyler Moore Show"; she double-deals in her personal relationships, not because she is "bad," but because of an odd quirk in her personality.
I'd hardly call this show brilliant but it shows promise if it gets away from the overdone look of the otherwise welcome sexual tension between Annie and her husband.
"Annie McGuire," unlike "...Van Dyke...", has the potential to grow, and seeing whether it does or not makes is at least a house-guest for a few weeks at my place.
And glory on glory it has no laugh track.
Mac Rush works in the Banner's composing room.
Today is my dad's birthday, I miss him.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Drugs and circuses
Nov. 13th '88
Drugs and circuses
We have elected a new administration, and president-elect Bush will try to point this nation in what he hopes is a positive direction; but I think that certain problems are too intractable for anyone to solve, and I have a bad feeling about what is happening to Western Civilization, and to our country in particular.
Those who have read Aldous Huxley's 1932 satire, "Brave New World," will recall that Huxley envisioned a culturally empty civilization wherein cloned, or mass-produced people were given just enough mental and physical ability and education to do there assigned tasks, were kept happy through conditioning and drugs, and were incessantly reminded that they were the best, the happiest class possible. From the Alphas, who ran the world through the Epsilons, who ran the elevators, all was controlled, society was stable, and everyone was content.
Well, in our new world, the collapse of education has left a void filled by television, and morality, that characteristic of social behavior that lets us live in relative harmony with one another, is replaced by the mindless acquisition of treasure and the numbing euphoria of drugs. The difference between us and Huxley's society of half a millennium from now is that in "Brave New World," the Alphas controlled, whereas in our decade the rich and powerful are worked over by forces even they are powerless to affect.
The collapse of our educational system has caused the ascendency of mindless television, the lazy search for easy solutions, no matter how unworkable, and the loss of our faculties of rational thought. We have a president who claims to have an open mind on the subject of astrology. We are retreating from the real world into astrology, fundamentalist religion, political fanaticism, and professional wrestling. We are Huxley's Gammas, Deltas and Epsilons, and there are no Alphas, because the new education, TV, is directed not by scholars interested in keeping alive the best parts of our heritage, but by technology and marketing, and these are unintelligent forces despite the fiction of economics "invisible hand."
We are now saddled with an underclass (Epsilon) generation that can neither read nor write, not in any substantive way. They live from game show to game show, sit bored in school looking forward to the Pablum of soaps, sensationalistic talk shows (did you see Geraldo mud-wrestle a bikini-clad woman last week?), and sports on the tube.
They live from snort to needle and in our inner cities terrorize each other with drugs as the driving economic force in their lives, because dealing drugs is, they think, the way to wealth. Even those not hooked dream not of creating goods and services to aid their fellow man, but of winning a state lottery.
And because so many kids are themselves mothered by kids, they grow up with no moral sense. If you're robbed on the street, you may as well fight for your property, because they'll kill you anyway.
Because TV is a medium of mass entertainment in our maket-run society, it must appeal to the untrained mind. Hence, moralistic sit-coms and cheap cartoons drive out material that would be beyond the uneducated. And those who program and run the television culture are in turn run by it. They are cynical, after appealing to this lowest denominator, and have no incentive to raise the complexity of the culture.
So car chases replace dialogue, and public affairs are made "Lite" and brief.
The producers of TV drivel are not so much venal as they are responding naturally to external stimuli filtered through their own training. They desire survival as much as do the rest of us. So we eat Jello and milk-toast because the bulk of us are not trained to enjoy more substantial fare, and those who are trapped by their own necessity to make money find they have no choice but to remove the spice and add more sugar.
To use television as a bootstrap to raise the level, the complexity of our culture, to substitute in some way for the deterioration of our schools, is beyond the primitive imagination of the young producers because they too are uneducated.
Is there any hope? Or are we doomed to sleepwalk from crisis to crisis? Nobody will know or care until childhood education is rebuilt, and vested interests will make that a slow, expensive process. Well directed television, with it's memorable, striking images, could help, but in a country where public television is criticized by politicians for being too "elitist," I see no hope for that.
Mac Rush works in the Banner's composing room.
Oddly, this was written decades before the first airing of "Jersey shore."
Also, I realize that "sit-coms" looks really odd, but it's what was written on the newspaper clipping I have.
Drugs and circuses
We have elected a new administration, and president-elect Bush will try to point this nation in what he hopes is a positive direction; but I think that certain problems are too intractable for anyone to solve, and I have a bad feeling about what is happening to Western Civilization, and to our country in particular.
Those who have read Aldous Huxley's 1932 satire, "Brave New World," will recall that Huxley envisioned a culturally empty civilization wherein cloned, or mass-produced people were given just enough mental and physical ability and education to do there assigned tasks, were kept happy through conditioning and drugs, and were incessantly reminded that they were the best, the happiest class possible. From the Alphas, who ran the world through the Epsilons, who ran the elevators, all was controlled, society was stable, and everyone was content.
Well, in our new world, the collapse of education has left a void filled by television, and morality, that characteristic of social behavior that lets us live in relative harmony with one another, is replaced by the mindless acquisition of treasure and the numbing euphoria of drugs. The difference between us and Huxley's society of half a millennium from now is that in "Brave New World," the Alphas controlled, whereas in our decade the rich and powerful are worked over by forces even they are powerless to affect.
The collapse of our educational system has caused the ascendency of mindless television, the lazy search for easy solutions, no matter how unworkable, and the loss of our faculties of rational thought. We have a president who claims to have an open mind on the subject of astrology. We are retreating from the real world into astrology, fundamentalist religion, political fanaticism, and professional wrestling. We are Huxley's Gammas, Deltas and Epsilons, and there are no Alphas, because the new education, TV, is directed not by scholars interested in keeping alive the best parts of our heritage, but by technology and marketing, and these are unintelligent forces despite the fiction of economics "invisible hand."
We are now saddled with an underclass (Epsilon) generation that can neither read nor write, not in any substantive way. They live from game show to game show, sit bored in school looking forward to the Pablum of soaps, sensationalistic talk shows (did you see Geraldo mud-wrestle a bikini-clad woman last week?), and sports on the tube.
They live from snort to needle and in our inner cities terrorize each other with drugs as the driving economic force in their lives, because dealing drugs is, they think, the way to wealth. Even those not hooked dream not of creating goods and services to aid their fellow man, but of winning a state lottery.
And because so many kids are themselves mothered by kids, they grow up with no moral sense. If you're robbed on the street, you may as well fight for your property, because they'll kill you anyway.
Because TV is a medium of mass entertainment in our maket-run society, it must appeal to the untrained mind. Hence, moralistic sit-coms and cheap cartoons drive out material that would be beyond the uneducated. And those who program and run the television culture are in turn run by it. They are cynical, after appealing to this lowest denominator, and have no incentive to raise the complexity of the culture.
So car chases replace dialogue, and public affairs are made "Lite" and brief.
The producers of TV drivel are not so much venal as they are responding naturally to external stimuli filtered through their own training. They desire survival as much as do the rest of us. So we eat Jello and milk-toast because the bulk of us are not trained to enjoy more substantial fare, and those who are trapped by their own necessity to make money find they have no choice but to remove the spice and add more sugar.
To use television as a bootstrap to raise the level, the complexity of our culture, to substitute in some way for the deterioration of our schools, is beyond the primitive imagination of the young producers because they too are uneducated.
Is there any hope? Or are we doomed to sleepwalk from crisis to crisis? Nobody will know or care until childhood education is rebuilt, and vested interests will make that a slow, expensive process. Well directed television, with it's memorable, striking images, could help, but in a country where public television is criticized by politicians for being too "elitist," I see no hope for that.
Mac Rush works in the Banner's composing room.
Oddly, this was written decades before the first airing of "Jersey shore."
Also, I realize that "sit-coms" looks really odd, but it's what was written on the newspaper clipping I have.
Watching 'Dear John'
Nov. 6th, 1988
Many years ago, the late Elizabeth Dwyer, editorial page editor and writer for the Bennington Banner, called her political endorsements "the kiss of death," and I'm to find out if her legacy is to be passes on to me in the field of reviewing TV.
I know that the best way to ensure the failure of a sports team is for me to bet on it, and that any show I recommend to friends, like last year's "The Slap Maxwell Story" is going to be frustratingly bounced around the schedule before cancellation, so it is with queasy trepidation that I report that NBC's new half-hour situation comedy, "Dear John," is hilarious.
But unlike "Slap," I think that this one has all the ingredients for success.
"Dear John" is about a man whose wife has run off with his best friend, and who is forced to strike out on his own. The pilot show opens with two neighbors helping him move into a dreary apartment, and as he looks the place over, one says, "The last thing I want to do is to interfere in your life. But I saw this ad in the paper for the 'One-to-One Club'...", and the "situation" for shows to follow is set up.
Ignoring his friend's husband's comment, "Why would he want to hang around with a bunch of other pathetic losers," John goes to the local community center with the idea of joining.
Now John is not a person who does things, he is one to whom things happen. So he finds himself being introduced to other troubled people, but it is not until the meeting gets underway that he sees he's stumbled into an alcoholics' self-help group by mistake, and as he tries to excuse himself, he's surrounded by friendly, concerned members trying to convince him to admit that he is, indeed, an alcoholic.
John escapes across the hall to where he belongs, along with two or three others, and the gag finishes with troubled alcoholics finding they're in the wrong group and leaving the "One to One" room.
This club for divorced, widowed, and separated individuals is where John meets the regulars of the series, and apparently will be the focus of future episodes.
The players of this piece are ones who will be easy to live with. Judd Hirsch, a 54-year old Emmy Award winning actor (for his nice work in "Taxi"), brings a sense of "pathetic loser" with redeeming features to his role, the quintessential nice guy who's been beaten on most of his life, yet who has such decent instincts that we cannot help but like him. He's dry, with perhaps a touch of cynicism, just enough to give his character an interesting edge.
The other juicy role is tenaciously grasped by Jane carr, who plays Louise, the lust-obsessed group leader. With the help of her piercing British accent and her brusque, nosey manner, Carr moves thing along through an outrageously strong personality. As she introduces John to the group's purpose, she points out that "No one's here to pry into your private life - have you any sexual problems?"
Remaining major parts include Kirk (Jere Burns), an obnoxious twit whose confidence in himself as a ladies' man is matched by his singular lack of success; Ralph (Harry Groener), a Wally Cos sort whose wife married to gain citizenship and ran off during the wedding reception; and Kate (Isabella Hofmann), who apparently is going to be John's romantic interest.
Kate thus far (two episodes) is a totally undeveloped character, lovely but quiet, and I'll be interested in seeing if she builds a personality of her own, or if still waters run shallow.
Surprisingly, in some respects the second show, which is more typical of what we'll get than the expensive premiere, is technically better than the first. The musical score is lighter, more appropriate to the lightweight nature of the clever script, whereas the pilot's music was a direct ripoff from "Hooperman." and the laugh-track, which "Dear John" does not need anyway, is much less obtrusive the second time around.
"Dear John" so far does not address the human condition, it does not mention (nor have) children, and it only slightly involves us in teh trials of one cast adrift on the social sea.
But it cheers me up and makes me laugh out loud. I like that in a comedy.
You can catch it Thursday nights at 9 p.m. on WNYT, Channel 13.
Mac Rush works in the Banner's composing room.
By far my favorite two lines written in this one "But it cheers me up and makes me laugh out loud. I like that in a comedy."
Many years ago, the late Elizabeth Dwyer, editorial page editor and writer for the Bennington Banner, called her political endorsements "the kiss of death," and I'm to find out if her legacy is to be passes on to me in the field of reviewing TV.
I know that the best way to ensure the failure of a sports team is for me to bet on it, and that any show I recommend to friends, like last year's "The Slap Maxwell Story" is going to be frustratingly bounced around the schedule before cancellation, so it is with queasy trepidation that I report that NBC's new half-hour situation comedy, "Dear John," is hilarious.
But unlike "Slap," I think that this one has all the ingredients for success.
"Dear John" is about a man whose wife has run off with his best friend, and who is forced to strike out on his own. The pilot show opens with two neighbors helping him move into a dreary apartment, and as he looks the place over, one says, "The last thing I want to do is to interfere in your life. But I saw this ad in the paper for the 'One-to-One Club'...", and the "situation" for shows to follow is set up.
Ignoring his friend's husband's comment, "Why would he want to hang around with a bunch of other pathetic losers," John goes to the local community center with the idea of joining.
Now John is not a person who does things, he is one to whom things happen. So he finds himself being introduced to other troubled people, but it is not until the meeting gets underway that he sees he's stumbled into an alcoholics' self-help group by mistake, and as he tries to excuse himself, he's surrounded by friendly, concerned members trying to convince him to admit that he is, indeed, an alcoholic.
John escapes across the hall to where he belongs, along with two or three others, and the gag finishes with troubled alcoholics finding they're in the wrong group and leaving the "One to One" room.
This club for divorced, widowed, and separated individuals is where John meets the regulars of the series, and apparently will be the focus of future episodes.
The players of this piece are ones who will be easy to live with. Judd Hirsch, a 54-year old Emmy Award winning actor (for his nice work in "Taxi"), brings a sense of "pathetic loser" with redeeming features to his role, the quintessential nice guy who's been beaten on most of his life, yet who has such decent instincts that we cannot help but like him. He's dry, with perhaps a touch of cynicism, just enough to give his character an interesting edge.
The other juicy role is tenaciously grasped by Jane carr, who plays Louise, the lust-obsessed group leader. With the help of her piercing British accent and her brusque, nosey manner, Carr moves thing along through an outrageously strong personality. As she introduces John to the group's purpose, she points out that "No one's here to pry into your private life - have you any sexual problems?"
Remaining major parts include Kirk (Jere Burns), an obnoxious twit whose confidence in himself as a ladies' man is matched by his singular lack of success; Ralph (Harry Groener), a Wally Cos sort whose wife married to gain citizenship and ran off during the wedding reception; and Kate (Isabella Hofmann), who apparently is going to be John's romantic interest.
Kate thus far (two episodes) is a totally undeveloped character, lovely but quiet, and I'll be interested in seeing if she builds a personality of her own, or if still waters run shallow.
Surprisingly, in some respects the second show, which is more typical of what we'll get than the expensive premiere, is technically better than the first. The musical score is lighter, more appropriate to the lightweight nature of the clever script, whereas the pilot's music was a direct ripoff from "Hooperman." and the laugh-track, which "Dear John" does not need anyway, is much less obtrusive the second time around.
"Dear John" so far does not address the human condition, it does not mention (nor have) children, and it only slightly involves us in teh trials of one cast adrift on the social sea.
But it cheers me up and makes me laugh out loud. I like that in a comedy.
You can catch it Thursday nights at 9 p.m. on WNYT, Channel 13.
Mac Rush works in the Banner's composing room.
By far my favorite two lines written in this one "But it cheers me up and makes me laugh out loud. I like that in a comedy."
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Watching "The Manchurian Candidate"
Oct. 30th, 1988
A long awaited, highly treasured thriller is at last out on tape, and it is of such nightmarish impact that I find it hard to get it out of my mind.
The release of director John Frankenheimer's "The Manchurian Candidate," a film of such disturbing relationships and political satire that it can be classified as both weird and powerful. Frankenheimer, master of deep focus and a director of unforgettable scenes and uneven wholes, was at the top of his young form in 1962, casting Laurence Harvey, Frank Sinatra, and Angela Lansbury in a filming of Richard Condon's book of the same name.
The tale is about an unapproachable, ill-liked sergeant, Raymond Shaw, who is captured, along with his platoon, during the Korean war. He and his men are brainwashed for three days by Chinese experts under Soviet instruction and released near their own lines.
On his return to the U.S., Shaw is put under the control of foreign agents, who plan to place their own man, Shaw's stepfather, senator John Issland, into the White House.
In Condon's book, the story seems wildly improbable, but the film smokes you along through the strength of it's strange images and through the incredible acting of Angela Lansbury, who plays the most monsterous mother I've ever seen on the screen. The plan to take over the U.S. moves forward to its devastating conclusion, only to be foiled by the human psyche's need for expression, in this case through nightmares.
The nightmares caused by the brainwashing are odd, indeed. The men in the platoon believe they are at a flower show, listening to a lecture by a cracked-voiced dowager. (An imaginative touch is that the sole black soldier's dreams the ladies are black too.) One shot shows the dowager-lecturer speaking to male communist officials in a banner decorated lecture hall. Another shows the actual Chinese brainwashing expert addressing the ladies of the garden club. The constant shifting of perspective, between reality and dreamlike fantasy, is so involving that I sat stunned.
The other set-piece to watch for is the presidential convention. The noise, the confusion, the energy and enthusiasm are all there, and the echoing sounds of Madison Square Garden, when heard through a Hi-Fi VCR, put your right in the center of things.
But it is the character of Raymond's mother, brilliantly played by Lansbury, that is the emotional center of the movie. In action, she makes Cinderella's stepmother seem like Saint Joan, yet she is also devastatingly human. In a grotesque expression of mother-love, she takes her hypnotized son's face in her hands, tells him that she will make her mentors pay for his sacrifice, and then kisses him full on the lips. Even today this 26-year-old scene is a shocker.
A subplot featuring a silly romance between Frank Sinatra and Janet Leigh was lifted entirely from the book, where it didn't work, either. This distraction is the only fault this superb thriller has.
"The Manchurian Candidate," the film, has a strange history itself. Though it was critically acclaimed on its release, it was pulled from theatres after Kennedy was assassinated. Frank Sinatra, one of the key players (he discovers the plot through his own nightmares), acquired rights to the movie and released if for video tape only a few months ago. To publicize the tape, a new print of the movie was made and shown in a Los Angeles theater where it was so popular that "The Manchurian Candidate" was subsequently released inmost major cities, and even in Willimstown's Images Theater, where I saw jaded college students cringe with horror at each killing and gasp at the revelation of who Shaw's American controller was.
This grand film can be rented in Bennington at Cross Town Video, Picaflic, Record Rack and The Video Stop.
Mac Rush Works in the Banner composing room.
Just a few notes from me. There's one spot where the word "Your" should be the word "You." I don't know if this is an editing error on my dad's part or if it happened somewhere before it actually went to print. There's no way to know for sure where the error happened but I can say, my dad was fanatical in his editing.
Also, my dad spells theater, both as "theater" and "theatre" in this column. I copied everything as it was written. Were he alive, I'd certainly ask why the different spellings were used.
A long awaited, highly treasured thriller is at last out on tape, and it is of such nightmarish impact that I find it hard to get it out of my mind.
The release of director John Frankenheimer's "The Manchurian Candidate," a film of such disturbing relationships and political satire that it can be classified as both weird and powerful. Frankenheimer, master of deep focus and a director of unforgettable scenes and uneven wholes, was at the top of his young form in 1962, casting Laurence Harvey, Frank Sinatra, and Angela Lansbury in a filming of Richard Condon's book of the same name.
The tale is about an unapproachable, ill-liked sergeant, Raymond Shaw, who is captured, along with his platoon, during the Korean war. He and his men are brainwashed for three days by Chinese experts under Soviet instruction and released near their own lines.
On his return to the U.S., Shaw is put under the control of foreign agents, who plan to place their own man, Shaw's stepfather, senator John Issland, into the White House.
In Condon's book, the story seems wildly improbable, but the film smokes you along through the strength of it's strange images and through the incredible acting of Angela Lansbury, who plays the most monsterous mother I've ever seen on the screen. The plan to take over the U.S. moves forward to its devastating conclusion, only to be foiled by the human psyche's need for expression, in this case through nightmares.
The nightmares caused by the brainwashing are odd, indeed. The men in the platoon believe they are at a flower show, listening to a lecture by a cracked-voiced dowager. (An imaginative touch is that the sole black soldier's dreams the ladies are black too.) One shot shows the dowager-lecturer speaking to male communist officials in a banner decorated lecture hall. Another shows the actual Chinese brainwashing expert addressing the ladies of the garden club. The constant shifting of perspective, between reality and dreamlike fantasy, is so involving that I sat stunned.
The other set-piece to watch for is the presidential convention. The noise, the confusion, the energy and enthusiasm are all there, and the echoing sounds of Madison Square Garden, when heard through a Hi-Fi VCR, put your right in the center of things.
But it is the character of Raymond's mother, brilliantly played by Lansbury, that is the emotional center of the movie. In action, she makes Cinderella's stepmother seem like Saint Joan, yet she is also devastatingly human. In a grotesque expression of mother-love, she takes her hypnotized son's face in her hands, tells him that she will make her mentors pay for his sacrifice, and then kisses him full on the lips. Even today this 26-year-old scene is a shocker.
A subplot featuring a silly romance between Frank Sinatra and Janet Leigh was lifted entirely from the book, where it didn't work, either. This distraction is the only fault this superb thriller has.
"The Manchurian Candidate," the film, has a strange history itself. Though it was critically acclaimed on its release, it was pulled from theatres after Kennedy was assassinated. Frank Sinatra, one of the key players (he discovers the plot through his own nightmares), acquired rights to the movie and released if for video tape only a few months ago. To publicize the tape, a new print of the movie was made and shown in a Los Angeles theater where it was so popular that "The Manchurian Candidate" was subsequently released inmost major cities, and even in Willimstown's Images Theater, where I saw jaded college students cringe with horror at each killing and gasp at the revelation of who Shaw's American controller was.
This grand film can be rented in Bennington at Cross Town Video, Picaflic, Record Rack and The Video Stop.
Mac Rush Works in the Banner composing room.
Just a few notes from me. There's one spot where the word "Your" should be the word "You." I don't know if this is an editing error on my dad's part or if it happened somewhere before it actually went to print. There's no way to know for sure where the error happened but I can say, my dad was fanatical in his editing.
Also, my dad spells theater, both as "theater" and "theatre" in this column. I copied everything as it was written. Were he alive, I'd certainly ask why the different spellings were used.
Buying a VCR
Oct. 23rd, 1988
There is nothing like the purchase of a videocassette recorder, or VCR, to confuse the novice or even the technically minded who has not kept up with the field, so perhaps a summary of what's available and worthwhile would be helpful, especially with Christmas coming on.
"Christmas already? Aren't you rushing the season?"
Not really. Not if you have to save for an expensive gift. Not if you want to put something on "layaway." Not if you want to take advantage of pre-Thanksgiving sales.
Not if you need time to convince yourself that a self-indulgent purchase is really a "gift for the whole family."
Consumer VCRs come in three major formats: eight-millimeter, Beta, and VHS; and VHS dominates the market and is the subject of this discussion.
After years of tumbling prices, VHS VCRs, thanks to the movement of the dollar against the Yen, are slowly climbing, though makers of low-end machines are fighting the increase by building their machines in low-wage Far Eastern countries, by further automating their production facilities, and by offering perceived value for real price increases. But in any case low priced VCRs are a whale of a bargain, offering such features as wireless remote control and frequency synthesized tuning (whereby you can access channels directly) for less then $300.
Incredibly, VCRs have become a mature technology in just ten years, and it is hard to buy a bad one. No matter what you pay, you'll get a pretty good picture with fine color, the ability to record while you're away, the capacity to watch one show while recording another, and the enormously satisfying power to "fast forward" though or "zap" commercials by remote control.
So what do you get for more money? The first step up is a the enhanced capacity that more video heads provide. All a tape machine needs is two heads on a revolving drum to record or play back a picture. But a pair of heads for the high (SP) and an additional pair for the slow speed (EP or SLP) gets the best picture from each. Unfortunately, few VCRs are available with this feature.
Most "four-head" VCRs use two heads for record and play-back, just like the cheapest, and two more for the "special effects," that is, noise-free still frame, fast motion, and slow motion. This feature is fun, but is not essential for most people.
At higher prices ($450 or so), two other features become prominent. One is digital effects, which is a process whereby the analog TV signal is converted by a computer into numbers, and these numbers are processed before being converted back into an analog signal again. Digital processing allows still yet better "special effects" than multiple heads alone offer, and allows you to watch one picture while another station is showing in the corner of your screen. The type of digital processing that would eliminate "snow" and "ghosts" is not yet widely available due to cost, and the current digital processing is largely useless in day-today use.
The other feature introduced in this price category is MTS, or stereo broadcast sound. If your TV does not have stereo, one of these VCRs hooked to a stereo system will upgrade your viewing experience if your local channels have stereo. In Bennington, only WMHT channel 17 (PBS), and WNYT channel 13 (NBC) transmit in stereo, and none of the scrambled channels on our local cable system are passed along in stereo. Satellite dish owners can get stereo from scrambled channels on their equipment.
As well as sending stereo sound through your audio system, a stereo VCR puts this sound on your tape in one of two ways. The less expensive is "linear" stereo, where the sound is laid down on the edge of the tape by a stationary head just like the monaural sound on a cheaper deck. The problem is that the already narrow, slow-moving track is now split into left and right channels, and the sound from these channels, even with Dolby noise reduction is nothing to brag about.
The other way to lay sound on the tape is with heads on the spinning video drum, and this is how the Hi-Fi system works. The sound is now excellent, and to me, it is worth every penny, even though Hi-Fi units start at more than $500. Sound wise, "Top Gun," played through my stereo, is more intelligible, clearer, more static-free than the sound I heard when I saw it in a local theatre. And when copying tapes, there is no audible loss in sound quality.
At the top of the heap is Super VHS, with better resolution than the normal VHS. With machines more than a thousand dollars, S-VHS tape costing $19 per cassette, and little software around, I'll pass for the time being.
Some hints on shopping:
I would buy from an established dealer, not a discount store. The hassles involved with the warranty work and help in learning the machine are not worth the discount store savings to me.
I would buy either a low-priced, brand name VCR, or if I had more cash, the lowest priced Hi-Fi VCR. Hi-Fi is the only extra cost feature that truly enhances what you watch.
And finally, I would try out the machine in the store, not only for picture quality, but for the ease in setting the timer for unmanned recording. Just because a VCR has "on screen programming" does not mean it is in fact the easiest to use.
If you're as amazed as I am that the darn things work at all, you'll be happy with your purchase.
Mac Rush works in the Banner composing room.
Just a few comments from me. My dad often received harsh criticism for this type of dryer, techno jargon type of information. Thumbing his nose at the nay-sayers, his response was "It's my column, I'll write whatever the hell I want."
Personally, I think 25 odd years later, it's a pretty funny read considering how technology has changed, not to mention the prices for something that is now essentially extinct.
I also feel obligated to mention that my dad used the movie "Top Gun" to demonstrate his high quality stereo frequently to all his friends. This often occurred at two am, when I had school in the morning and I'd wake up to my windows vibrating, stagger out and beg my dad to "Turn it down!"
There is nothing like the purchase of a videocassette recorder, or VCR, to confuse the novice or even the technically minded who has not kept up with the field, so perhaps a summary of what's available and worthwhile would be helpful, especially with Christmas coming on.
"Christmas already? Aren't you rushing the season?"
Not really. Not if you have to save for an expensive gift. Not if you want to put something on "layaway." Not if you want to take advantage of pre-Thanksgiving sales.
Not if you need time to convince yourself that a self-indulgent purchase is really a "gift for the whole family."
Consumer VCRs come in three major formats: eight-millimeter, Beta, and VHS; and VHS dominates the market and is the subject of this discussion.
After years of tumbling prices, VHS VCRs, thanks to the movement of the dollar against the Yen, are slowly climbing, though makers of low-end machines are fighting the increase by building their machines in low-wage Far Eastern countries, by further automating their production facilities, and by offering perceived value for real price increases. But in any case low priced VCRs are a whale of a bargain, offering such features as wireless remote control and frequency synthesized tuning (whereby you can access channels directly) for less then $300.
Incredibly, VCRs have become a mature technology in just ten years, and it is hard to buy a bad one. No matter what you pay, you'll get a pretty good picture with fine color, the ability to record while you're away, the capacity to watch one show while recording another, and the enormously satisfying power to "fast forward" though or "zap" commercials by remote control.
So what do you get for more money? The first step up is a the enhanced capacity that more video heads provide. All a tape machine needs is two heads on a revolving drum to record or play back a picture. But a pair of heads for the high (SP) and an additional pair for the slow speed (EP or SLP) gets the best picture from each. Unfortunately, few VCRs are available with this feature.
Most "four-head" VCRs use two heads for record and play-back, just like the cheapest, and two more for the "special effects," that is, noise-free still frame, fast motion, and slow motion. This feature is fun, but is not essential for most people.
At higher prices ($450 or so), two other features become prominent. One is digital effects, which is a process whereby the analog TV signal is converted by a computer into numbers, and these numbers are processed before being converted back into an analog signal again. Digital processing allows still yet better "special effects" than multiple heads alone offer, and allows you to watch one picture while another station is showing in the corner of your screen. The type of digital processing that would eliminate "snow" and "ghosts" is not yet widely available due to cost, and the current digital processing is largely useless in day-today use.
The other feature introduced in this price category is MTS, or stereo broadcast sound. If your TV does not have stereo, one of these VCRs hooked to a stereo system will upgrade your viewing experience if your local channels have stereo. In Bennington, only WMHT channel 17 (PBS), and WNYT channel 13 (NBC) transmit in stereo, and none of the scrambled channels on our local cable system are passed along in stereo. Satellite dish owners can get stereo from scrambled channels on their equipment.
As well as sending stereo sound through your audio system, a stereo VCR puts this sound on your tape in one of two ways. The less expensive is "linear" stereo, where the sound is laid down on the edge of the tape by a stationary head just like the monaural sound on a cheaper deck. The problem is that the already narrow, slow-moving track is now split into left and right channels, and the sound from these channels, even with Dolby noise reduction is nothing to brag about.
The other way to lay sound on the tape is with heads on the spinning video drum, and this is how the Hi-Fi system works. The sound is now excellent, and to me, it is worth every penny, even though Hi-Fi units start at more than $500. Sound wise, "Top Gun," played through my stereo, is more intelligible, clearer, more static-free than the sound I heard when I saw it in a local theatre. And when copying tapes, there is no audible loss in sound quality.
At the top of the heap is Super VHS, with better resolution than the normal VHS. With machines more than a thousand dollars, S-VHS tape costing $19 per cassette, and little software around, I'll pass for the time being.
Some hints on shopping:
I would buy from an established dealer, not a discount store. The hassles involved with the warranty work and help in learning the machine are not worth the discount store savings to me.
I would buy either a low-priced, brand name VCR, or if I had more cash, the lowest priced Hi-Fi VCR. Hi-Fi is the only extra cost feature that truly enhances what you watch.
And finally, I would try out the machine in the store, not only for picture quality, but for the ease in setting the timer for unmanned recording. Just because a VCR has "on screen programming" does not mean it is in fact the easiest to use.
If you're as amazed as I am that the darn things work at all, you'll be happy with your purchase.
Mac Rush works in the Banner composing room.
Just a few comments from me. My dad often received harsh criticism for this type of dryer, techno jargon type of information. Thumbing his nose at the nay-sayers, his response was "It's my column, I'll write whatever the hell I want."
Personally, I think 25 odd years later, it's a pretty funny read considering how technology has changed, not to mention the prices for something that is now essentially extinct.
I also feel obligated to mention that my dad used the movie "Top Gun" to demonstrate his high quality stereo frequently to all his friends. This often occurred at two am, when I had school in the morning and I'd wake up to my windows vibrating, stagger out and beg my dad to "Turn it down!"
Watching political 'debates'
Oct. 16, 1988
Debates are important, right? They let us see the combatants think on their feet, right? They show us how the key members of our future administration react under pressure, right?
Wrong.
All we've seen so far is that Bush and Dukakis can memorize zingers, that Bentsen "Looks more presidential" than Quayle, whatever that means, that all four can evade tough (or in many cases, nonsensical) questions, and that anybody can be briefed with generic responses to most inquiries.
We see that all four candidates either lack, (in Quayle's case to an appalling degree) imagination under these artificial conditions, or that if they have imagination or originality, they are afraid to use it, for fear that they may blunder. Apparently each debate is approached as a young football team approaches a first-time championship game. The candidates' mind-set is not on the offense, not on blowing the other team out with chancy, original plays, but on avoiding mistakes, on defensive action, with conservative reciting of the party line that in the case of the two debates so far, leads not to insight, but to memorized repetition.
Not that these debates mean much anyway, no matter who "scores points." A National Public Radio commentator remarked that the vice-presidential debate would have no effect on the election unless "Quayle falls off the podium or Bentsen falls asleep," and he's dead on. This artificial nonsense achieves little more than to give us a 90 minute look at candidates acting like performing seals.
It's tough to assess a candidate in these days of speechwriters, public relations advisers, makeup artists and lying press secretaries. The latest overlay in the public relations field is "spin" people whose job, believe it or not, is to talk up their candidate's performance in an attempt to influence the attending journalists.
And the irony is that we cannot judge how a president will act in a crisis or in the long term on the basis of "debate" performance anyway, because the qualities that make for a good public relations dream do not necessarily make for a good president.
A good president (or vice president) needs the following attributes to be effective:
He has to be a diplomat - if he's not, Congress will geld him.
He has to be willing to settle for short-range compromise to achieve long-range goals.
He has to make the difficult policy decisions and convince us that though we need to sacrifice, we or our children will benefit in the long run.
He has to choose qualified experts who can advise him quickly and accurately on matters that may require instant decisions (whether to push the "red button" or not, for example).
And most of all, he must have a vision of what this country and the world should be, and he must let us know what that vision is, so that we may choose to vote for him or not. We must not get lost in the minutia of detail; we must see if the candidate's vision, his goals, are ones we share.
Beauty does not a president make: Lincoln was so ugly, he was characterized as an ape in contemporary cartoons. Personality is not always the key: Reagan is extremely personable, with the best sense of humor of any president I've ever seen, yet that humor does not give him insight into the world of the suffering and the distressed.
And the ability to "think quickly on your feet" does not mean much except under artificial circumstances. Kennedy was a quick, attractive, and effective talker on TV but many of his decisions as president showed that this same "quick thinking" revealed in the debates was not appropriate to presidential decision making. Debates do not show the ability to reflect, to be thoughtful. They do not show how a man reacts to difficult problems in private or within a small group.
Kennedy won by being attractive and smooth. Reagan won by being amiable and likable. And as much as we like these lovely characteristics in a friend or a con-man, they and the other qualities of people who "perform" well in a debate do not ensure a good president. Eisenhower was irascible and unpleasant, in spite of that winning grin, and was a fine president.
So how are we going to judge our leaders when there is zero correlation between "TV" ability and presidential leadership? We have to rely on past achievement, and on how our candidates got to where they are. It's not easy, not when we are unwilling to do the deep investigation into our candidates' past an understanding of them requires.
And so most of us will rely on personal attractiveness, smooth talk, and the rest of the TV values that have been beaten into us, and we will choose on the basis of impact and impression rather than study and introspection.
I wish us luck.
Mac Rush works in the Banner's composing room.
Debates are important, right? They let us see the combatants think on their feet, right? They show us how the key members of our future administration react under pressure, right?
Wrong.
All we've seen so far is that Bush and Dukakis can memorize zingers, that Bentsen "Looks more presidential" than Quayle, whatever that means, that all four can evade tough (or in many cases, nonsensical) questions, and that anybody can be briefed with generic responses to most inquiries.
We see that all four candidates either lack, (in Quayle's case to an appalling degree) imagination under these artificial conditions, or that if they have imagination or originality, they are afraid to use it, for fear that they may blunder. Apparently each debate is approached as a young football team approaches a first-time championship game. The candidates' mind-set is not on the offense, not on blowing the other team out with chancy, original plays, but on avoiding mistakes, on defensive action, with conservative reciting of the party line that in the case of the two debates so far, leads not to insight, but to memorized repetition.
Not that these debates mean much anyway, no matter who "scores points." A National Public Radio commentator remarked that the vice-presidential debate would have no effect on the election unless "Quayle falls off the podium or Bentsen falls asleep," and he's dead on. This artificial nonsense achieves little more than to give us a 90 minute look at candidates acting like performing seals.
It's tough to assess a candidate in these days of speechwriters, public relations advisers, makeup artists and lying press secretaries. The latest overlay in the public relations field is "spin" people whose job, believe it or not, is to talk up their candidate's performance in an attempt to influence the attending journalists.
And the irony is that we cannot judge how a president will act in a crisis or in the long term on the basis of "debate" performance anyway, because the qualities that make for a good public relations dream do not necessarily make for a good president.
A good president (or vice president) needs the following attributes to be effective:
He has to be a diplomat - if he's not, Congress will geld him.
He has to be willing to settle for short-range compromise to achieve long-range goals.
He has to make the difficult policy decisions and convince us that though we need to sacrifice, we or our children will benefit in the long run.
He has to choose qualified experts who can advise him quickly and accurately on matters that may require instant decisions (whether to push the "red button" or not, for example).
And most of all, he must have a vision of what this country and the world should be, and he must let us know what that vision is, so that we may choose to vote for him or not. We must not get lost in the minutia of detail; we must see if the candidate's vision, his goals, are ones we share.
Beauty does not a president make: Lincoln was so ugly, he was characterized as an ape in contemporary cartoons. Personality is not always the key: Reagan is extremely personable, with the best sense of humor of any president I've ever seen, yet that humor does not give him insight into the world of the suffering and the distressed.
And the ability to "think quickly on your feet" does not mean much except under artificial circumstances. Kennedy was a quick, attractive, and effective talker on TV but many of his decisions as president showed that this same "quick thinking" revealed in the debates was not appropriate to presidential decision making. Debates do not show the ability to reflect, to be thoughtful. They do not show how a man reacts to difficult problems in private or within a small group.
Kennedy won by being attractive and smooth. Reagan won by being amiable and likable. And as much as we like these lovely characteristics in a friend or a con-man, they and the other qualities of people who "perform" well in a debate do not ensure a good president. Eisenhower was irascible and unpleasant, in spite of that winning grin, and was a fine president.
So how are we going to judge our leaders when there is zero correlation between "TV" ability and presidential leadership? We have to rely on past achievement, and on how our candidates got to where they are. It's not easy, not when we are unwilling to do the deep investigation into our candidates' past an understanding of them requires.
And so most of us will rely on personal attractiveness, smooth talk, and the rest of the TV values that have been beaten into us, and we will choose on the basis of impact and impression rather than study and introspection.
I wish us luck.
Mac Rush works in the Banner's composing room.
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