It is a truism that in the history of American television that there have been very few good shows. It is also a truism that many good shows, perhaps most of them, have gone down hill later in their run. Often this is not so much a case of going bad all at once--there often isn't a "jump the shark" episode--but more a case of a gradual deterioration in the show's quality. And sadly once a show has deteriorated in quality, it often stays on the air for quite some before ending its run.
There are no shortage of examples of shows that have outstayed their welcome. One for me is The X-Files. For its first several seasons, The X-Files was one of the best shows on TV. That having been said, in its sixth season the show began to show signs of wear and tear. The show was still capable of producing some great episodes. That season saw the two part episode "Dreamland," one of my favourites in which Mulder switched places with Area 51 agent Morris Fletcher, "How the Ghosts Stole Christmas," with Lily Tomlin and Edward Asner as a pair of humourously malicious ghosts, and "Terms of Endearment," with Bruce Campbell playing a demonic (literally) father. While the season produced some good episodes, it also produced some very bad ones, such as "Drive (a man suffering from a deadly disease takes Mulder on a drive)" and "One Son (yet another mythology episode)." The seventh season saw the show decline even more in quality. True, there were some very good episodes ("X-Cops," "First Person Shooter," and "Hollywood A. D."), but the merely mediocre and even bad episodes began to outweigh the good ones. The decline of The X-Files continued with the eighth and ninth seasons. Indeed, the absence of Fox Mulder from the majority of episodes definitely had an impact on the series.
As I see it, it would have been better if The X-Files had ended with its sixth season. It was that season that the show started its dramatic decline in quality. Indeed, I have to wonder why they chose to continue the series when David Duchovny decided to leave. The show simply was not the same without Fox Mulder in nearly every episode. It would seem that The X-Files was one of those shows whose success depended largely on its main character.
Another show I feel has outstayed its welcome is The Simpsons. Quite frankly, for its first many seasons I would say that The Simpsons was one of the greatest TV shows of all time. It was simply brilliant. And it is amazing that it remained as good as it was for such a long time. I suspect that the decline of The Simpsons began before the twelfth season, but for me it was during that season that I first seriously thought The Simpsons was not as good as it once was. I can even remember the episode in which I first thought that The Simpsons was no longer a great show. It was the episode "New Kids on the Blecch," in which Bart, Milhouse, Nelson, and Ralph become a boy band. I found it unrealistic that Bart would ever consent to being part of a boy band, and I found the episode's conclusion rather hackneyed and unoriginal. Quite frankly, I think The Simpsons had fallen far short of what they once were.
Now I do think The Simpsons has improved since then, although it is still not nearly as good as it once was. In fact, the show is not nearly as good as The Simpsons Movie. As much as I love The Simpsons, I have to wonder if the show should not have been put out to pasture several years ago.
At least both The X-Files and The Simpsons had long runs of great episodes. While I know that there are many who will disagree with me, I don't think that can be said of The Cosby Show. I was a big Bill Cosby fan when the show debuted in 1984. And I thought that the show was simply brilliant for its two seasons. Sadly and rather unexpectedly, the show went from being uproariously hilarious to being a rather standard, family sitcom. Indeed, it surprised me as to just how unfunny the show had become in later seasons. Amazingly, it would run another six seasons, four of which it remained the number one show on television. If they could not have maintained the first two seasons' quality, I would have just as soon the show would have gone off the air long before it did.
I suspect the reason that shows, such as The X-Files and The Simpsons, sometimes gradually decline in quality during their run is rather simple. As time goes by it becomes harder and harder to come up with original episodes that fit within the concept of the series. At the same time on many shows, many of a show's writers and directors will move onto other things. I suppose that one can simply say that shows grow old. As to why some shows suddenly go from being good to bad, the way The Cosby Show did, that is more difficult to say. I don't know the entire, intimate history of The Cosby Show, but perhaps they changed staff suddenly between the second and third seasons...
As to why shows remain on the air long after they've declined in quality, why they outstay their welcome, that reason is simple: ratings. The X-Files maintained good ratings nearly until the end of its run. The Simpsons still gets good ratings. I know that I watched both shows long after I thought they had gone downhill. I rather suspect this is true of many viewers. Particularly with cult shows, viewers aren't eager to give up their favourite shows even after it is clear they've seen better days. Beyond viewer loyalty, there is also the fact that many viewers are not particularly discerning in their viewing habits. I am sure many of us can think of examples of shows that never were good, yet they enjoyed healthy runs. In the case of good shows, I think most producers should follow the lead of David Chase. He ended The Sopranos while the show was still good.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Jungfrukallan (The Virgin Spring)
Disclaimer: Generally I do not include spoilers when I write about movies, but I feel that with the The Virgin Spring I could make an exception. The movie has been in circulation for forty seven years now, and even film buffs who have not seen the film are more than likely familiar with its plot. That having been said, if you have not seen The Virgin Spring and do not wish to have it spoiled for you, don't read this article.
Of all Ingmar Bergman's films, Jungfrukällan (The Virgin Spring in English) probably had the most mixed reaction. Filmmakers of the French New Wave and former Bergman supporters elsewhere dismissed the film. Even Bergman himself would later refer to the film as an "aberration" in his career. In Sweden the movie's violence (tame by today's standards, although it still packs a punch) caused many to walk out on the film upon its first showing. Some even suggested that Bergman was spared the censor's scissors simply because of his reputation. In the United States the rape scene (again, tame in the light of more recent films) was censored. At the same time, however, The Virgin Spring received overall positive reviews in the United States. And it received both the Oscar and the Golden Globe for Best Foreign Language Film in 1961.
One of the most frequent criticisms of the film is that it is a straight forward morality play. Indeed, many have noted that it is the one film Bergman made in which the Christian God is not silent. To me this would make Jungfrukällan an unusual film for Ingmar Bergman, particularly given it immediately precedes his Trilogy of Faith (Through a Glass Darkly, Winter Light, and The Silence), in which faith and even the existence of the Christian God is often questioned. It is my thought that The Virgin Spring questions faith in much the same way that his Trilogy of Faith does, and that it is not quite so straightforward as many would have it to be.
For those unfamiliar with the film, it is based on the 13th century ballad "Herr Töres döttrar i vange." The plot of the ballad is very close to that of Jungfrukällan. A young girl was on her way to church when she is raped and murdered by highwaymen. A spring then miraculously appeared where her body lay. Bergman expanded on the plot of "Herr Töres döttrar i vange" a good deal. Although the ballad is overtly Christian in tone, Bergman and screenwriter Ulla Isaksson (a popular Swedish novelist at the time) set the movie at a time when Sweden was in transition from its native heathen religion to Christianity. Wealthy landowner Töre (Max Von Sydow), his wife (Birgitta Valberg), his daughter Karin (Birgitta Pettersson), and many of his servants follow Christianity, while his foster daughter and servant Ingeri (Gunnel Lindblom) still prays to the Norse god Óðinn.
Setting the movie in the transition period between heathenism and Christianity gives Bergman a chance to portray the different relationships between people and their religious beliefs. Töre's wife Märeta is a strict Christian who takes comfort in the religion's ceremony, to the point of burning her wrists with a candle in penance. While Töre prays with his wife, he seems reluctant to do so and not particularly amiable to his wife's idea of burning her wrists. Despite their apparent devotion to Christianity, both Töre and Märeta dote on their spoiled daughter Karin and even permit her to ride to church to deliver candles without an escort. Like her parents, Karin follows Christianity, although it is quite apparent that she is much more interested in the secular world than any spiritual one. She oversleeps on the day she is to deliver candles to the church because she had too much fun at the dance before. She is vain about her appearance, admonishing her mother to get out of her light when admiring her reflection and insisting in being dressed in her Sunday best for her trip to the church. Karin is quite obviously spoiled, as she is able to wrap her parents around her little finger and get nearly anything she wants. Similarly, she seems perfectly aware of her power over men and willing to use her sexuality to get her way, although she seems overly innocent of the effect this has upon the men. Overall, Karin is proud, vain, and overly boastful, hardly the ideal Christian.
Karin stands in stark contrast to her foster sister Ingeri. Although Ingeri appears in the movie as dirty, slovenly, and carrying a child out of wedlock. she is arguably the more religious of the two. She seems quite devoted to Óðinn, which, along with the fact that she is pregnant without a husband, is probalby the reason she is a bit of an outcast in the household. Indeed, this probably explains why she is dirty and slovenly--one has to wonder that she wasn't denied personal amenities because of her status (the heathen Swedes were meticulously clean when it came to their bodies--an Old English source complains about the Vikings getting all the women because they actually take baths and comb their hair...). Karin and her parents are also contrasted with the servant Frida and the beggar who has travelled to various holy sites across the world. Frida seems much more genuine in her belief in Christianity, thanking God for preventing from stepping on a flock of chicks at one point. As to the beggar, he sincerely explains to the goatherds' younger brother the heavenly reward awaiting one in Christianity and talks with awe of the religious sites he has seen to Frida.
When it comes to religion, the goatherds occupy a completely different stratum from anyone else in the movie. They are neither Christian nor heathen, but apparently have no religious beliefs. When they rob Karin's body after raping and murdering her, they stomp on the holy candles that she was to deliver to the church. They also make a mockery of hospitality (a virtue valued by the pre-Christian Swedes) when they offer to sell Karin's blood soiled clothes to Märeta. The only one of them with any decency is the youngest. While the boy passively watches (as does Ingeri) as his brothers rape and murder Karin, he also has enough respect for her to attempt covering up her body. If Töre, Märeta, and Karin are people of little faith, and Ingeri, Frida, and the beggar are people of fairly solid faith, then the goatherds are people of no faith at all.
Not only does The Virgin Spring, a movie assumed by some to be a straightforward, Christian morality play, offer a fairly complex look at the relationship of various individuals to their religion of choice, but it actually lends some credence to the old, pre-Christian, Swedish religion. This is not only seen in the figure of Ingeri, but in Töre himself. Following his daughter's murder and the discovery that the goatherds are the culprits, Töre does not forgive them and figure out a peaceful means to teach them the error of their ways. Instead he does the same thing that his heathen, Viking ancestors would do. He orders Ingeri (the heathen in the family) to prepare his bath and then cuts down a birch tree for its branches. Afterward, in the bath, Töre switches himself with the birch branches. As both Bergman and screenwriter Isaksson probably well knew, switching with birch branches was a means of purification performed in Sweden during spring time rituals, and probably other important times as well. Töre is then purifying himself before the task at hand--namely avenging Karin by slaying the goatherds who murdered her. This too would appear to be a heathen act rather than a Christian one. Among the ancient Swedes when a family member was murdered, his or her family were obligated to avenge them. Töre's brutal slaying of the goatherds could easily fit into any number of Icelandic sagas or Norse myths. Quite simply, in the Dark Ages, prior to the evolution of complex court systems, revenge was one of the few means of punishing evildoers. While Töre does beg the Christian God's forgiveness for what he has done, he does it nonetheless.
Töre's ritual of vengeance is not the only way in which the movie seemingly lends credence to the old Swedish religion. In the beginning of the film Ingeri believes in Óðinn and prays to him. Later Ingeri is given the task of accompanying Karin to the church. At a stream bordering the forest, Ingeri decides to visit the Bridge Keeper there rather than enter the woods with Karin (which she fears a good deal) and continue to the church. As it turns out, the Bridge Keeper is also heathen--apparently a seer of some sort. He shows Ingeri his various talismans and tells her what they can do. After he touches her and offers her strength, Ingeri flees the Bridge Keeper's cabin. Many have interpreted the Bridge Keeper as having made advances to her, but I am not so certain about that. It seems to me that like Ingeri, the Bridge Keeper is a bit of an outcast. Not only does he live in what we would today call the "boondocks," but he is heathen in an increasingly Christian world. I don't think it is too far fetched to assume that he is very, very lonely. I am then not so certain that the Bridge Keeper's motives were so much sexual in nature. Instead, it seems to me that he was, perhaps overzealously, offering her help as a fellow heathen in hopes that they could be friends.
Of course, it seems possible that the Bridge Keeper is something more than a lonely old heathen. Outside his house there sits a raven, a bird associated with Óðinn. In fact, according to Norse myth Óðinn owns two ravens, Hugin and Munin, who report the news of the world to him each day. Once Ingeri is inside the cabin, the Bridge Keeper brags of the knowledge he possesses, knowledge that would seem to go beyond a mere, mortal seer. He even asks Ingeri if she can hear three dead men riding, perhaps foreseeing the ultimate fate of the goatherds who are about to kill Karin in a short time. Finally, among many other things, Óðinn is the god of death, whose Valkyries not only carry those slain in battle to Valhalla, but who sometimes goes forth to take his chosen heroes there himself. In some respects he is a figure similar to Charon in Greek mythology, the ferryman who carried the dead across the River Styx to Hades. In the Volsunga Saga he appears as a ferryman who carries the dead body of the hero Sinfjotli away in his boat. The Bridge Keeper would seem to perform a similar function, seeing individuals off to the other side. It seems possible, then, that the Bridge Keeper is none other than Óðinn himself. It is notable that immediately before Töre and his household find Karin's body, a raven is seen in a tree.
Further credence that the movie gives to the old Swedish religion may also be seen in Ingeri's confession to Töre in the wake of Karin's murder. She tells Töre that she prayed to Óðinn for Karin's comeuppance and that he made the rape and murder happen and begs Töre to kill her. In asking that Töre take her life, Ingeri is being perfectly heathen--Karin must be avenged and since Ingeri thinks she caused Karin's death, she must die. While it seems very unlikely that Óðinn or any god would cause the rape and murder of an individual, the fact that Ingeri believes this demonstrates how much she believes in Óðinn.
Even the climax, assumed by many to be blatantly Christian in tone, could lend credence to the heathenism of the early Swedes. In the climax, upon finding Karin's body, Töre states that he does not understand the Christian God, but begs his forgiveness nonetheless. He even vows to build a church of mortar and stone of the sort the beggar had described on the spot. Karin's body is then moved, upon which the spring appears. As a hymn plays in the background, many viewers may be inclined to see this as a Christian miracle. And it seems quite possible that this is what Bergman and Isaksson intended, but it is not the only possible interpretation. It is notable that Ingeri, the heathen girl, is the first to notice the spring. Not only is it the first time she actually looks happy in the movie, but she eagerly washes herself in the spring. Some might view this as showing that Ingeri has accepted Christianity and is eager to be baptised. This seems unlikely to me, however, especially given the significance of springs in the early Germanic religion. According to Adam of Bremen in his Gesta Hammaburgensis Ecclesiae Pontificum there was a spring outside the heathen temple at Uppsala in which the early Swedes made sacrifices. Several penitentials from Dark Ages Europe forbid worshiping at springs, and sacred springs among various Germanic peoples are mentioned frequently in Dark Age sources. In fact, it seems possible that "Herr Töres döttrar i vange," the ballad upon which Jungfrukällan is based, drew upon the heathen sacredness of springs for much of its power among its medieval audience. The spring which emerges after Karin's death, then, may not be a response to Töre's vow, but simply Óðinn showing his power and perhaps reassuring Ingeri that he did not cause Karin's death, and that he will aid her. Even if it is interpreted as a Christian miracle (which seems likely), it seems clear to me that Ingeri does not view it as such. Indeed, while the others look reverently on the spring as a miracle, Ingeri is cleansing herself in the spring, something any ancient heathen would have done.
Here I want to stress that in lending credence to Sweden's old religion I do not feel either Bergman or Isaksson are slighting Christianity. Nor do I feel that Bergman or Isaksson are in any way condemning or critiquing Christianity in this film. It must be pointed out that the two happiest people in the movie are ardently Christian: Frida and the beggar. Frida thanks God for something as simple as not stepping on little chicks. The beggar eagerly and joyfully tells the goatheards' little brother about the Christian heaven. Early in the film, Frida and the beggar discuss the beautiful churches, made of mortar and stone, he has seen around the world. When the goatherds' younger brother grows sick at the supper table (no doubt remembering the violence his brothers had wrought), it is Frida and the beggar who comfort him. And while both Töre and Märeta are in danger of losing their faith after Karin's death, neither Frida nor the beggar express any real doubts in their God.
The legitimacy of Christianity as a belief system is also shown in the figure of Töre. At the beginning of the movie, he is reluctant to pray and appears to simply be going through the motions of being Christian. Immediately following Karin's murder and the discovery of the culprits, he behaves in a heathen manner--Töre cleanses himself and slays the goatherds. In the end, however, he bets God's forgiveness and vows to erect a church on the spot where Karin has died. Töre has gone on a journey from being a Sunday Christian to an avenging heathen to someone who actively believes in Christianity. Between the portrayal of Frida and the Beggar, and Töre's transformation, Jungfrukällan is much like Bergman's film Winter Light, in which an individual undergoes a transformation from someone in doubt of his faith to someone whose faith is on a much firmer foundation.
It must also be pointed out that in the end, regardless of how Ingeri interprets the spring, the other characters clearly view it as a miracle from God. They behave reverently as any good Christian would in the presence of what they consider a genuine miracle. There is little doubt that Töre views the spring as an answer to his prayer and his vow to build a church there.
Ultimately, Jungfrukällan is not a simple, straightforward morality play, but a movie not unlike Bergman's Trilogy of Faith in which the nature of faith and of God (or in the case of The Virgin Spring, gods) is examined. It is not a film with an overtly Christian message, nor is it a film which is anti-Christian. Instead, I believe it was Bergman's intent with the film to show that people need faith, even if that faith is accompanied by doubts and insecurities. In the end, the miracle is not that the spring erupts where Karin died, but that faith blooms where previously there was none.
Of all Ingmar Bergman's films, Jungfrukällan (The Virgin Spring in English) probably had the most mixed reaction. Filmmakers of the French New Wave and former Bergman supporters elsewhere dismissed the film. Even Bergman himself would later refer to the film as an "aberration" in his career. In Sweden the movie's violence (tame by today's standards, although it still packs a punch) caused many to walk out on the film upon its first showing. Some even suggested that Bergman was spared the censor's scissors simply because of his reputation. In the United States the rape scene (again, tame in the light of more recent films) was censored. At the same time, however, The Virgin Spring received overall positive reviews in the United States. And it received both the Oscar and the Golden Globe for Best Foreign Language Film in 1961.
One of the most frequent criticisms of the film is that it is a straight forward morality play. Indeed, many have noted that it is the one film Bergman made in which the Christian God is not silent. To me this would make Jungfrukällan an unusual film for Ingmar Bergman, particularly given it immediately precedes his Trilogy of Faith (Through a Glass Darkly, Winter Light, and The Silence), in which faith and even the existence of the Christian God is often questioned. It is my thought that The Virgin Spring questions faith in much the same way that his Trilogy of Faith does, and that it is not quite so straightforward as many would have it to be.
For those unfamiliar with the film, it is based on the 13th century ballad "Herr Töres döttrar i vange." The plot of the ballad is very close to that of Jungfrukällan. A young girl was on her way to church when she is raped and murdered by highwaymen. A spring then miraculously appeared where her body lay. Bergman expanded on the plot of "Herr Töres döttrar i vange" a good deal. Although the ballad is overtly Christian in tone, Bergman and screenwriter Ulla Isaksson (a popular Swedish novelist at the time) set the movie at a time when Sweden was in transition from its native heathen religion to Christianity. Wealthy landowner Töre (Max Von Sydow), his wife (Birgitta Valberg), his daughter Karin (Birgitta Pettersson), and many of his servants follow Christianity, while his foster daughter and servant Ingeri (Gunnel Lindblom) still prays to the Norse god Óðinn.
Setting the movie in the transition period between heathenism and Christianity gives Bergman a chance to portray the different relationships between people and their religious beliefs. Töre's wife Märeta is a strict Christian who takes comfort in the religion's ceremony, to the point of burning her wrists with a candle in penance. While Töre prays with his wife, he seems reluctant to do so and not particularly amiable to his wife's idea of burning her wrists. Despite their apparent devotion to Christianity, both Töre and Märeta dote on their spoiled daughter Karin and even permit her to ride to church to deliver candles without an escort. Like her parents, Karin follows Christianity, although it is quite apparent that she is much more interested in the secular world than any spiritual one. She oversleeps on the day she is to deliver candles to the church because she had too much fun at the dance before. She is vain about her appearance, admonishing her mother to get out of her light when admiring her reflection and insisting in being dressed in her Sunday best for her trip to the church. Karin is quite obviously spoiled, as she is able to wrap her parents around her little finger and get nearly anything she wants. Similarly, she seems perfectly aware of her power over men and willing to use her sexuality to get her way, although she seems overly innocent of the effect this has upon the men. Overall, Karin is proud, vain, and overly boastful, hardly the ideal Christian.
Karin stands in stark contrast to her foster sister Ingeri. Although Ingeri appears in the movie as dirty, slovenly, and carrying a child out of wedlock. she is arguably the more religious of the two. She seems quite devoted to Óðinn, which, along with the fact that she is pregnant without a husband, is probalby the reason she is a bit of an outcast in the household. Indeed, this probably explains why she is dirty and slovenly--one has to wonder that she wasn't denied personal amenities because of her status (the heathen Swedes were meticulously clean when it came to their bodies--an Old English source complains about the Vikings getting all the women because they actually take baths and comb their hair...). Karin and her parents are also contrasted with the servant Frida and the beggar who has travelled to various holy sites across the world. Frida seems much more genuine in her belief in Christianity, thanking God for preventing from stepping on a flock of chicks at one point. As to the beggar, he sincerely explains to the goatherds' younger brother the heavenly reward awaiting one in Christianity and talks with awe of the religious sites he has seen to Frida.
When it comes to religion, the goatherds occupy a completely different stratum from anyone else in the movie. They are neither Christian nor heathen, but apparently have no religious beliefs. When they rob Karin's body after raping and murdering her, they stomp on the holy candles that she was to deliver to the church. They also make a mockery of hospitality (a virtue valued by the pre-Christian Swedes) when they offer to sell Karin's blood soiled clothes to Märeta. The only one of them with any decency is the youngest. While the boy passively watches (as does Ingeri) as his brothers rape and murder Karin, he also has enough respect for her to attempt covering up her body. If Töre, Märeta, and Karin are people of little faith, and Ingeri, Frida, and the beggar are people of fairly solid faith, then the goatherds are people of no faith at all.
Not only does The Virgin Spring, a movie assumed by some to be a straightforward, Christian morality play, offer a fairly complex look at the relationship of various individuals to their religion of choice, but it actually lends some credence to the old, pre-Christian, Swedish religion. This is not only seen in the figure of Ingeri, but in Töre himself. Following his daughter's murder and the discovery that the goatherds are the culprits, Töre does not forgive them and figure out a peaceful means to teach them the error of their ways. Instead he does the same thing that his heathen, Viking ancestors would do. He orders Ingeri (the heathen in the family) to prepare his bath and then cuts down a birch tree for its branches. Afterward, in the bath, Töre switches himself with the birch branches. As both Bergman and screenwriter Isaksson probably well knew, switching with birch branches was a means of purification performed in Sweden during spring time rituals, and probably other important times as well. Töre is then purifying himself before the task at hand--namely avenging Karin by slaying the goatherds who murdered her. This too would appear to be a heathen act rather than a Christian one. Among the ancient Swedes when a family member was murdered, his or her family were obligated to avenge them. Töre's brutal slaying of the goatherds could easily fit into any number of Icelandic sagas or Norse myths. Quite simply, in the Dark Ages, prior to the evolution of complex court systems, revenge was one of the few means of punishing evildoers. While Töre does beg the Christian God's forgiveness for what he has done, he does it nonetheless.
Töre's ritual of vengeance is not the only way in which the movie seemingly lends credence to the old Swedish religion. In the beginning of the film Ingeri believes in Óðinn and prays to him. Later Ingeri is given the task of accompanying Karin to the church. At a stream bordering the forest, Ingeri decides to visit the Bridge Keeper there rather than enter the woods with Karin (which she fears a good deal) and continue to the church. As it turns out, the Bridge Keeper is also heathen--apparently a seer of some sort. He shows Ingeri his various talismans and tells her what they can do. After he touches her and offers her strength, Ingeri flees the Bridge Keeper's cabin. Many have interpreted the Bridge Keeper as having made advances to her, but I am not so certain about that. It seems to me that like Ingeri, the Bridge Keeper is a bit of an outcast. Not only does he live in what we would today call the "boondocks," but he is heathen in an increasingly Christian world. I don't think it is too far fetched to assume that he is very, very lonely. I am then not so certain that the Bridge Keeper's motives were so much sexual in nature. Instead, it seems to me that he was, perhaps overzealously, offering her help as a fellow heathen in hopes that they could be friends.
Of course, it seems possible that the Bridge Keeper is something more than a lonely old heathen. Outside his house there sits a raven, a bird associated with Óðinn. In fact, according to Norse myth Óðinn owns two ravens, Hugin and Munin, who report the news of the world to him each day. Once Ingeri is inside the cabin, the Bridge Keeper brags of the knowledge he possesses, knowledge that would seem to go beyond a mere, mortal seer. He even asks Ingeri if she can hear three dead men riding, perhaps foreseeing the ultimate fate of the goatherds who are about to kill Karin in a short time. Finally, among many other things, Óðinn is the god of death, whose Valkyries not only carry those slain in battle to Valhalla, but who sometimes goes forth to take his chosen heroes there himself. In some respects he is a figure similar to Charon in Greek mythology, the ferryman who carried the dead across the River Styx to Hades. In the Volsunga Saga he appears as a ferryman who carries the dead body of the hero Sinfjotli away in his boat. The Bridge Keeper would seem to perform a similar function, seeing individuals off to the other side. It seems possible, then, that the Bridge Keeper is none other than Óðinn himself. It is notable that immediately before Töre and his household find Karin's body, a raven is seen in a tree.
Further credence that the movie gives to the old Swedish religion may also be seen in Ingeri's confession to Töre in the wake of Karin's murder. She tells Töre that she prayed to Óðinn for Karin's comeuppance and that he made the rape and murder happen and begs Töre to kill her. In asking that Töre take her life, Ingeri is being perfectly heathen--Karin must be avenged and since Ingeri thinks she caused Karin's death, she must die. While it seems very unlikely that Óðinn or any god would cause the rape and murder of an individual, the fact that Ingeri believes this demonstrates how much she believes in Óðinn.
Even the climax, assumed by many to be blatantly Christian in tone, could lend credence to the heathenism of the early Swedes. In the climax, upon finding Karin's body, Töre states that he does not understand the Christian God, but begs his forgiveness nonetheless. He even vows to build a church of mortar and stone of the sort the beggar had described on the spot. Karin's body is then moved, upon which the spring appears. As a hymn plays in the background, many viewers may be inclined to see this as a Christian miracle. And it seems quite possible that this is what Bergman and Isaksson intended, but it is not the only possible interpretation. It is notable that Ingeri, the heathen girl, is the first to notice the spring. Not only is it the first time she actually looks happy in the movie, but she eagerly washes herself in the spring. Some might view this as showing that Ingeri has accepted Christianity and is eager to be baptised. This seems unlikely to me, however, especially given the significance of springs in the early Germanic religion. According to Adam of Bremen in his Gesta Hammaburgensis Ecclesiae Pontificum there was a spring outside the heathen temple at Uppsala in which the early Swedes made sacrifices. Several penitentials from Dark Ages Europe forbid worshiping at springs, and sacred springs among various Germanic peoples are mentioned frequently in Dark Age sources. In fact, it seems possible that "Herr Töres döttrar i vange," the ballad upon which Jungfrukällan is based, drew upon the heathen sacredness of springs for much of its power among its medieval audience. The spring which emerges after Karin's death, then, may not be a response to Töre's vow, but simply Óðinn showing his power and perhaps reassuring Ingeri that he did not cause Karin's death, and that he will aid her. Even if it is interpreted as a Christian miracle (which seems likely), it seems clear to me that Ingeri does not view it as such. Indeed, while the others look reverently on the spring as a miracle, Ingeri is cleansing herself in the spring, something any ancient heathen would have done.
Here I want to stress that in lending credence to Sweden's old religion I do not feel either Bergman or Isaksson are slighting Christianity. Nor do I feel that Bergman or Isaksson are in any way condemning or critiquing Christianity in this film. It must be pointed out that the two happiest people in the movie are ardently Christian: Frida and the beggar. Frida thanks God for something as simple as not stepping on little chicks. The beggar eagerly and joyfully tells the goatheards' little brother about the Christian heaven. Early in the film, Frida and the beggar discuss the beautiful churches, made of mortar and stone, he has seen around the world. When the goatherds' younger brother grows sick at the supper table (no doubt remembering the violence his brothers had wrought), it is Frida and the beggar who comfort him. And while both Töre and Märeta are in danger of losing their faith after Karin's death, neither Frida nor the beggar express any real doubts in their God.
The legitimacy of Christianity as a belief system is also shown in the figure of Töre. At the beginning of the movie, he is reluctant to pray and appears to simply be going through the motions of being Christian. Immediately following Karin's murder and the discovery of the culprits, he behaves in a heathen manner--Töre cleanses himself and slays the goatherds. In the end, however, he bets God's forgiveness and vows to erect a church on the spot where Karin has died. Töre has gone on a journey from being a Sunday Christian to an avenging heathen to someone who actively believes in Christianity. Between the portrayal of Frida and the Beggar, and Töre's transformation, Jungfrukällan is much like Bergman's film Winter Light, in which an individual undergoes a transformation from someone in doubt of his faith to someone whose faith is on a much firmer foundation.
It must also be pointed out that in the end, regardless of how Ingeri interprets the spring, the other characters clearly view it as a miracle from God. They behave reverently as any good Christian would in the presence of what they consider a genuine miracle. There is little doubt that Töre views the spring as an answer to his prayer and his vow to build a church there.
Ultimately, Jungfrukällan is not a simple, straightforward morality play, but a movie not unlike Bergman's Trilogy of Faith in which the nature of faith and of God (or in the case of The Virgin Spring, gods) is examined. It is not a film with an overtly Christian message, nor is it a film which is anti-Christian. Instead, I believe it was Bergman's intent with the film to show that people need faith, even if that faith is accompanied by doubts and insecurities. In the end, the miracle is not that the spring erupts where Karin died, but that faith blooms where previously there was none.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
The Late, Great Merv Griffin
Legendary talk show host and entertainment entrepreneur Merv Griffin died today at the age of 82 from prostate cancer. Griffin was the host of his own talk show for around twenty years, as well as created the game shows Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune.
Merv Griffin was born Mervyn Edward Griffin on July 6, 1925 in San Mateo, California. As a boy he was trained as a classical pianist and at age 7 published his own neighbourhood newspaper (it sold for two cents a piece). By age 19 he was singing on the nationally syndicated radio show San Francisco Sketchbook. He was eventually hired by band leader Freddy Martin to tour with his orchestra. Griffin was with the orchestra for four years. His first number one record was his version of "I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts" in 1949. Griffin would eventually see success as a solo artist and even founded his own record label, Panda Records. On the recommendation of Doris Day and her husband, Marty Melcher, Griffin was signed to a motion picture deal with Warner Brothers. Despite his success as a singer, Griffin only received a few bit parts in such films as So This is Love and By the Light of Silvery Moon. Tired of bit parts, he eventually asked to be released from his contract.
As it turned out Griffin's greatest success would come on the small screen rather than the big screen. He had first appeared on television in 1952 on The Freddy Martin Show. In 1954 he was the host of a summer replacement series, Summer Holiday, on CBS. Griffin would soon find himself in demand as both a substitute host and a host on various TV shows. He was a substitute host on the Price is Right in the Fifties. He was also the host of the brief lived game show Keep Talking. He produced as well as hosted the short lived series Saturday Prom in 1960. By the early Sixties Griffin was a substitute host for Jack Paar on The Tonight Show. In fact, he was in the running to replace Paar, although the job eventually went to Johnny Carson. Because of his popularity as a substitute host on The Tonight Show, NBC awarded him his own talk show in the daytime. In some way, shape, or form The Merv Griffin Show would last until 1986. Merv Griffin was known for being more sophisticated than most talk show hosts and for never shying away from controversy. His show featured guests ranging from Zsa Zsa Gabor to John Lennon to Robert Kennedy to Bertrand Russell to Martin Luther King Jr. At times his guests could cause a bit of an uproar. In 1965 philosopher Bertrand Russell condemned the Vietnam War, resulting in the press having a field day with Griffin. When activist Abbie Hoffman wore a shirt resembling the American flag, CBS pixilated his image so that anyone watching wouldn't even know who it was.
While Griffin was one of the longest running and most important talk show hosts of time, he was also a major force in the world of game shows. In 1964 Griffin created and produced the original verison of Jeopardy, believed by some to be the second most successful game show of all time. Griffin followed this success in 1975 by creating and producing what would become the most successful game show of all time, Wheel of Fortune. Among the other game shows he created were the short lived Word for Word in 1963 and the television version of Monopoly.
There can be no doubt that Merv Griffin left his mark on television. As a talk show host he was folksy and friendly, but still willing to feature controversial guests on his series that other shows would avoid. Besides Bertrand Russell and Abbie Hoffman, writer Norman Mailer, visionary Buckminster Fuller, surrealist Salvador Dali, pop artist Andy Warhol, comedian Dick Gregory, and comedian George Carlin. In fact, CBS was sometimes nervous about Griffin's choice of guests. If Merv Griffin was only a talk show host, he would have left his mark on television history, but he also created the two most successful game shows of all time. Only The Price is Right approaches either Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune in success (although personally I preferred the original version of Jeopardy with Art Fleming and Don Pardo). Griffin has definitely left a lasting impact on American television. I doubt he will ever be forgotten.
Merv Griffin was born Mervyn Edward Griffin on July 6, 1925 in San Mateo, California. As a boy he was trained as a classical pianist and at age 7 published his own neighbourhood newspaper (it sold for two cents a piece). By age 19 he was singing on the nationally syndicated radio show San Francisco Sketchbook. He was eventually hired by band leader Freddy Martin to tour with his orchestra. Griffin was with the orchestra for four years. His first number one record was his version of "I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts" in 1949. Griffin would eventually see success as a solo artist and even founded his own record label, Panda Records. On the recommendation of Doris Day and her husband, Marty Melcher, Griffin was signed to a motion picture deal with Warner Brothers. Despite his success as a singer, Griffin only received a few bit parts in such films as So This is Love and By the Light of Silvery Moon. Tired of bit parts, he eventually asked to be released from his contract.
As it turned out Griffin's greatest success would come on the small screen rather than the big screen. He had first appeared on television in 1952 on The Freddy Martin Show. In 1954 he was the host of a summer replacement series, Summer Holiday, on CBS. Griffin would soon find himself in demand as both a substitute host and a host on various TV shows. He was a substitute host on the Price is Right in the Fifties. He was also the host of the brief lived game show Keep Talking. He produced as well as hosted the short lived series Saturday Prom in 1960. By the early Sixties Griffin was a substitute host for Jack Paar on The Tonight Show. In fact, he was in the running to replace Paar, although the job eventually went to Johnny Carson. Because of his popularity as a substitute host on The Tonight Show, NBC awarded him his own talk show in the daytime. In some way, shape, or form The Merv Griffin Show would last until 1986. Merv Griffin was known for being more sophisticated than most talk show hosts and for never shying away from controversy. His show featured guests ranging from Zsa Zsa Gabor to John Lennon to Robert Kennedy to Bertrand Russell to Martin Luther King Jr. At times his guests could cause a bit of an uproar. In 1965 philosopher Bertrand Russell condemned the Vietnam War, resulting in the press having a field day with Griffin. When activist Abbie Hoffman wore a shirt resembling the American flag, CBS pixilated his image so that anyone watching wouldn't even know who it was.
While Griffin was one of the longest running and most important talk show hosts of time, he was also a major force in the world of game shows. In 1964 Griffin created and produced the original verison of Jeopardy, believed by some to be the second most successful game show of all time. Griffin followed this success in 1975 by creating and producing what would become the most successful game show of all time, Wheel of Fortune. Among the other game shows he created were the short lived Word for Word in 1963 and the television version of Monopoly.
There can be no doubt that Merv Griffin left his mark on television. As a talk show host he was folksy and friendly, but still willing to feature controversial guests on his series that other shows would avoid. Besides Bertrand Russell and Abbie Hoffman, writer Norman Mailer, visionary Buckminster Fuller, surrealist Salvador Dali, pop artist Andy Warhol, comedian Dick Gregory, and comedian George Carlin. In fact, CBS was sometimes nervous about Griffin's choice of guests. If Merv Griffin was only a talk show host, he would have left his mark on television history, but he also created the two most successful game shows of all time. Only The Price is Right approaches either Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune in success (although personally I preferred the original version of Jeopardy with Art Fleming and Don Pardo). Griffin has definitely left a lasting impact on American television. I doubt he will ever be forgotten.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Stardust
Ever since he wrote Sandman, I have been a big fan of Neil Gaiman. I've also always enjoyed pre-Tolkien fantasy of the sort that Lord Dunsany wrote. For that reason the illustrated novel Stardust, written by Gaiman and illustrated by Charles Vess, is one of my favourite works that Neil Gaiman has written. Gaiman wrote the novel with pre-Tolkien fantasy precisely in mind. It is also the reason that I was looking forward to the film adaptation of Stardust.
Fortunately, the movie Stardust was not a disappointment. Like the novel, the film begins in the 19th century with the English village of Wall, so called because it is separated from the magical world of Stormhold by a rather long and rather tall wall. In the village young Tristan Thorn promises his beloved Victoria (played by Sienna Miller) to retrieve a star that has fallen on the other side of the wall, in Stormhold. As it turns out, however, stars have human form (in this case, Claire Danes) and names (in her case Yvaine). Having found the star Yvaine, Tristan must make their way back to the village of Wall across the sometimes dangerous kingdom of Stormhold.
For those Gaiman fans out there, the movie's plot is simpler than that of the novel, although for me this did not detract from enjoying the film. While it may not be 100% faithful to the novel's plot, Stardust is loyal to the book's spirit. The movie definitely has the feel of those classic works of fantasy predating Tolkien's books. It possesses both a sense of whimsy and imagination that one would find in the works of Lord Dunsany, Charles Kingsley, and William Morris. In fact, in many respects Stardust is comparable to the classic fantasy movie The Princess Bride, although with a greater emphasis on fantasy than on comedy. Its sense of whimsy drawn from Victorian fantasy writers sets Stardust apart not only from other movies, but from other fantasy movies as well.
Stardust succeeds largely because of its great cast. Indeed, while Claire Danes may be the "star," it is Michelle Pfeiffer who is the most celestial performer, giving a great performance as the villainous witch Lamia and looking far more beautiful than women nearly half her age. Rupert Evert also gives a solid performance as Secundus, the second son of the King of Stormhold (Peter O'Toole) anxious to ascend to the throne. Robert De Niro and Ricky Gervais of The Office (the original, British version) also do some good turns in their parts.
Director Matthew Vaughn also proves that Layer Cake was not a fluke. Dealing with a lot of material as he did in Layer Cake, Vaughn handles it quite neatly. The movie is easy to follow, despite its many plot threads. His direction also lends to the over all feel of the film, that of a Victorian fantasy where danger and adventure might lurk right around the corner.
Stardust is an enjoyable film and a welcome break from the usual summer blockbusters and inane family comedies so often released this time of year. I would encourage anyone who enjoys fantasy movies or simply good films to go see Stardust.
Fortunately, the movie Stardust was not a disappointment. Like the novel, the film begins in the 19th century with the English village of Wall, so called because it is separated from the magical world of Stormhold by a rather long and rather tall wall. In the village young Tristan Thorn promises his beloved Victoria (played by Sienna Miller) to retrieve a star that has fallen on the other side of the wall, in Stormhold. As it turns out, however, stars have human form (in this case, Claire Danes) and names (in her case Yvaine). Having found the star Yvaine, Tristan must make their way back to the village of Wall across the sometimes dangerous kingdom of Stormhold.
For those Gaiman fans out there, the movie's plot is simpler than that of the novel, although for me this did not detract from enjoying the film. While it may not be 100% faithful to the novel's plot, Stardust is loyal to the book's spirit. The movie definitely has the feel of those classic works of fantasy predating Tolkien's books. It possesses both a sense of whimsy and imagination that one would find in the works of Lord Dunsany, Charles Kingsley, and William Morris. In fact, in many respects Stardust is comparable to the classic fantasy movie The Princess Bride, although with a greater emphasis on fantasy than on comedy. Its sense of whimsy drawn from Victorian fantasy writers sets Stardust apart not only from other movies, but from other fantasy movies as well.
Stardust succeeds largely because of its great cast. Indeed, while Claire Danes may be the "star," it is Michelle Pfeiffer who is the most celestial performer, giving a great performance as the villainous witch Lamia and looking far more beautiful than women nearly half her age. Rupert Evert also gives a solid performance as Secundus, the second son of the King of Stormhold (Peter O'Toole) anxious to ascend to the throne. Robert De Niro and Ricky Gervais of The Office (the original, British version) also do some good turns in their parts.
Director Matthew Vaughn also proves that Layer Cake was not a fluke. Dealing with a lot of material as he did in Layer Cake, Vaughn handles it quite neatly. The movie is easy to follow, despite its many plot threads. His direction also lends to the over all feel of the film, that of a Victorian fantasy where danger and adventure might lurk right around the corner.
Stardust is an enjoyable film and a welcome break from the usual summer blockbusters and inane family comedies so often released this time of year. I would encourage anyone who enjoys fantasy movies or simply good films to go see Stardust.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Makeup Artist Wlliam J. Tuttle R.I.P.
William J. Tuttle, one time head of MGM's makeup department, passed on July 27 at the age of 95. He worked on over 300 films.
Tuttle was born April 13, 1912 in Jacksonville, Florida. His father deserted his family when he was only 15, forcing Tuttle to leave school to support his mother and brother. He found work in Vaudeville playing violin and working with various comedy teams. He went to Hollywood in the early Thirties and became assistant to legendary makeup artist Jack Dawn, who would eventually become head of the makeup department at MGM. The first movie upon which he worked was Mark of the Vampire, as an assistant makeup artist. Tuttle was also an assistant makeup artist on The Wizard of Oz.
For the most part it was Tuttle's job to insure that the beautiful people of Hollywood looked beautiful on screen. In the Fifties he would work on such classic films as Father of the Bride, Singin' in the Rain, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, North by Northwest, and The Catered Affair. In the Sixties and Seventies he would work on such films as How the West Was Won, Mutiny on the Bounty, Marlowe, The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean, and Bogie. While Tuttle was an expert at making beautiful people even more beautiful, he was also adept in drastically altering the appearances of actors, even making them monstrous. He made Kirk Douglas up as Vincent Van Gogh for Lust for Life. He created the Morlocks in the 1960 version of The Time Machine. He was responsible for the makeup on the cyborg Box in Logan's Run. Beyond The Wizard of Oz, however, his crowning achievement may have been his work on The 7 Faces of Dr. Lao. In that film he transformed Tony Randall into Dr. Lao, the Abominable Snowman, Medusa, Merlin, Pan, and Apollonius of Tyana. For his work on the film Tuttle received an honourary Oscar, making him the first makeup artist to ever win the Academy Award. In 1981 the Academy Award for Best Makeup would finally be established.
Tuttle also worked in television. He created much of the fantastic makeup for the original Twilight Zone, including the classic episodes "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet " and "Eye of the Beholder." He also worked on the TV show Northwest Passage.
Tuttle also developed his own line of makeup, Custom Color Cosmetics. He taught at the film school at the University of Southern California as well.
William J. Tuttle is arguably one of the greatest makeup artists of all time. He worked on an inordinately large number of classic films, supervising the makeup on everything from Summer Stock to Young Frankenstein. With the exception of a few other makeup artists (Jack Pierce and John Chambers among them), his work is unmatched. We might have more advanced technology today, but even now the quality of Willim J. Tuttle's work holds up.
Tuttle was born April 13, 1912 in Jacksonville, Florida. His father deserted his family when he was only 15, forcing Tuttle to leave school to support his mother and brother. He found work in Vaudeville playing violin and working with various comedy teams. He went to Hollywood in the early Thirties and became assistant to legendary makeup artist Jack Dawn, who would eventually become head of the makeup department at MGM. The first movie upon which he worked was Mark of the Vampire, as an assistant makeup artist. Tuttle was also an assistant makeup artist on The Wizard of Oz.
For the most part it was Tuttle's job to insure that the beautiful people of Hollywood looked beautiful on screen. In the Fifties he would work on such classic films as Father of the Bride, Singin' in the Rain, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, North by Northwest, and The Catered Affair. In the Sixties and Seventies he would work on such films as How the West Was Won, Mutiny on the Bounty, Marlowe, The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean, and Bogie. While Tuttle was an expert at making beautiful people even more beautiful, he was also adept in drastically altering the appearances of actors, even making them monstrous. He made Kirk Douglas up as Vincent Van Gogh for Lust for Life. He created the Morlocks in the 1960 version of The Time Machine. He was responsible for the makeup on the cyborg Box in Logan's Run. Beyond The Wizard of Oz, however, his crowning achievement may have been his work on The 7 Faces of Dr. Lao. In that film he transformed Tony Randall into Dr. Lao, the Abominable Snowman, Medusa, Merlin, Pan, and Apollonius of Tyana. For his work on the film Tuttle received an honourary Oscar, making him the first makeup artist to ever win the Academy Award. In 1981 the Academy Award for Best Makeup would finally be established.
Tuttle also worked in television. He created much of the fantastic makeup for the original Twilight Zone, including the classic episodes "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet " and "Eye of the Beholder." He also worked on the TV show Northwest Passage.
Tuttle also developed his own line of makeup, Custom Color Cosmetics. He taught at the film school at the University of Southern California as well.
William J. Tuttle is arguably one of the greatest makeup artists of all time. He worked on an inordinately large number of classic films, supervising the makeup on everything from Summer Stock to Young Frankenstein. With the exception of a few other makeup artists (Jack Pierce and John Chambers among them), his work is unmatched. We might have more advanced technology today, but even now the quality of Willim J. Tuttle's work holds up.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Two Hollywood Figures Pass On
Recently two Hollywood figures have passed on, and both of them were Brooklynites at that. The average person probably has never heard of them, but both contributed to the motion picture industry in their own way.
Frank Rosenfelt, who served as chairman and CEO of MGM, died this past Thursday at the age of 85. Rosenfelt was born in Brooklyn on November 15, 1921. He served under General George S. Patton during World War II, earning a Purple Heart during the Battle of the Bulge. Following the war he studied law at Cornell University. In 1950 he was hired at RKO as part of their legal department.
It was in 1955 that Rosenfelt moved to MGM. By 1969 he became the studio's general counsel. When Kirk Kerkorian bought MGM in 1972, he appointed Rosenfelt its head. Even before he became MGM's chief, Rosenfelt was linked to some classic films. He acquired the rights for the novel Doctor Zhivago, a film adaptation of which the studio released in 1965. He also played a role in the making of 2001: a Space Odyssey. While Rosenfelt was MGM's CEO, the studio made such films as The Sunshine Boys, Network, New York, New York, and Escape from New York. Rosenfelt was so confident that Network would win the Oscar for Best Picture, that when it lost to Rocky he forbade anyone to mention Rocky in his home (I can't blame him one bit).
Rosenfelt also oversaw MGM's takeover of United Artists. After Frank Rothman took over his duties at MGM, Rosenfelt became CEO of UA.
Director and screenwriter Mel Shavelson died today at the age of 90. He was probably best known for such comedies as Houseboat and Yours, Mine, and Ours.
He was born Melville Shavelson on April 1, 1917 in Brooklyn. He began his career in show business by writing gags for Bob Hope's radio show. He accompanied the comedian when he made the move to Hollywood in 1938. By 1941 Shavelson received his first screen credit, for additional dialogue in the film Ice Capades. His first screenwriter credit (along with several other of Hope's writers) would be on the The Princess and the Pirate in 1941. From the Forties into the Fifties, Shavelson would write on several comedies, including Danny Kaye's Kid From Brooklyn, Milton Berle's Always Leave Them Laughing, and Doris Day's April in Paris.
In 1955 Shavelson directed his first movie, The Seven Little Foys starring Bob Hope as as legendary comic Eddie Foy. He would go on to direct such films as Houseboat, It Started in Naples, and the original Yours, Mine, and Ours. Shavelson was twice nominated for Academy Awards, Best Original Screenplay for Houseboat and The Seven Little Foys.
Shavelson worked very little in television, although he made some important contributions to television history. Along with producer Lou Edleman and star Danny Thomas, Shavelson created the classic sitcom Make Room For Daddy (AKA The Danny Thomas Show). Many years later Shavelson let a friend to use his own personal recording studio in his home to record the theme song for a new TV show, which his friend needed right away. That friend was Sherwood Schwartz and it was the theme song for Gilligan's Island he needed to record. According to Schwartz, Gilligan's Island would not have been possible without him.
Shavelson also wrote two novels and four non-fiction books. He also served as president of the Writers Guild of America, West.
There can be little doubt that Mel Shavelson was a talented comedy writer. He was responsible for many of the gags on Bob Hope's radio show. And while not every one of the movies he wrote were classics, all of them were funny. In co-creating Make Room for Daddy he was responsible for one of the greatest TV shows of all time. Working in the entertainment industry for sixty years, Shavelson definitely left his mark on the industry.
Frank Rosenfelt, who served as chairman and CEO of MGM, died this past Thursday at the age of 85. Rosenfelt was born in Brooklyn on November 15, 1921. He served under General George S. Patton during World War II, earning a Purple Heart during the Battle of the Bulge. Following the war he studied law at Cornell University. In 1950 he was hired at RKO as part of their legal department.
It was in 1955 that Rosenfelt moved to MGM. By 1969 he became the studio's general counsel. When Kirk Kerkorian bought MGM in 1972, he appointed Rosenfelt its head. Even before he became MGM's chief, Rosenfelt was linked to some classic films. He acquired the rights for the novel Doctor Zhivago, a film adaptation of which the studio released in 1965. He also played a role in the making of 2001: a Space Odyssey. While Rosenfelt was MGM's CEO, the studio made such films as The Sunshine Boys, Network, New York, New York, and Escape from New York. Rosenfelt was so confident that Network would win the Oscar for Best Picture, that when it lost to Rocky he forbade anyone to mention Rocky in his home (I can't blame him one bit).
Rosenfelt also oversaw MGM's takeover of United Artists. After Frank Rothman took over his duties at MGM, Rosenfelt became CEO of UA.
Director and screenwriter Mel Shavelson died today at the age of 90. He was probably best known for such comedies as Houseboat and Yours, Mine, and Ours.
He was born Melville Shavelson on April 1, 1917 in Brooklyn. He began his career in show business by writing gags for Bob Hope's radio show. He accompanied the comedian when he made the move to Hollywood in 1938. By 1941 Shavelson received his first screen credit, for additional dialogue in the film Ice Capades. His first screenwriter credit (along with several other of Hope's writers) would be on the The Princess and the Pirate in 1941. From the Forties into the Fifties, Shavelson would write on several comedies, including Danny Kaye's Kid From Brooklyn, Milton Berle's Always Leave Them Laughing, and Doris Day's April in Paris.
In 1955 Shavelson directed his first movie, The Seven Little Foys starring Bob Hope as as legendary comic Eddie Foy. He would go on to direct such films as Houseboat, It Started in Naples, and the original Yours, Mine, and Ours. Shavelson was twice nominated for Academy Awards, Best Original Screenplay for Houseboat and The Seven Little Foys.
Shavelson worked very little in television, although he made some important contributions to television history. Along with producer Lou Edleman and star Danny Thomas, Shavelson created the classic sitcom Make Room For Daddy (AKA The Danny Thomas Show). Many years later Shavelson let a friend to use his own personal recording studio in his home to record the theme song for a new TV show, which his friend needed right away. That friend was Sherwood Schwartz and it was the theme song for Gilligan's Island he needed to record. According to Schwartz, Gilligan's Island would not have been possible without him.
Shavelson also wrote two novels and four non-fiction books. He also served as president of the Writers Guild of America, West.
There can be little doubt that Mel Shavelson was a talented comedy writer. He was responsible for many of the gags on Bob Hope's radio show. And while not every one of the movies he wrote were classics, all of them were funny. In co-creating Make Room for Daddy he was responsible for one of the greatest TV shows of all time. Working in the entertainment industry for sixty years, Shavelson definitely left his mark on the industry.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Lee Hazlewood Passes On
Singer and songwriter Lee Hazlewood died on August 4 from kidney cancer. He is perhaps best known for penning the song "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'."
Hazlewood was born July 9, 1929 in Mannford, Oklahoma. He was drawn to music early, although he studied medicine at Southern Methodist University in Dallas. During the Korean War he served in the Army. Upon his release from the military Hazlewood worked as a disc jockey. As a DJ Hazlewood befriended future rock guitarist Duane Eddy. It was in 1953 that Hazlewood registered his first copyrighted song, "For Bell Love Alarm." By 1955 Hazlewood would produce his first record for the duo of Jimmy and Duane (pianist Jimmy Dell and guitarist Duane Eddy). By 1956 Hazlewood would have his first hit, "The Fool," recorded by Sanford Clark. Hazlewood would produced Duane Eddy at the height of his career (from around 1958 to 1962). In 1963 Hazlewood launched his solo career as a singer, with the album Trouble is a Lonesome Town.
It would be in 1966 that Hazlewood would have the hit for which he has become best known. That song was "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'." It was recorded by Nancy Sinatra and became not only her first hit, but arguably her biggest hit. It has since been recorded by such diverse artists as The Residents, Lydia Lunch, Primal Scream, Megadeth, Jewel, and The Fixx. Besides "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'," Hazlewood also wrote the songs "Rebel Rouser (with Duane Eddy)," "40 Miles of Bad Road (with Duane Eddy)," "Somethin' Stupid (recorded by Frank and Nancy Sinatra)," and "Houston" (recorded by Dean Martin). He has been credited with contributing to the genre known as "Saccharine Underground" or "Cowboy Psychedelia," a genre that blended elements of rock and country. Hazlewood continued recording until recently, his last album Cake or Death being released last year.
I can't say that I was a huge fan of Lee Hazlewood's solo work, but I cannot deny that he had an influence on me through the work he did with other artists. Like everyone else since 1966, I have heard the many versions of "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'." And I have always been a fan of Duane Eddy. There can be no doubt that Hazlewood had talent. And he influenced a large range of artists, from Vanilla Fudge to Sonic Youth to Nick Cave. It cannot be denied that he had an impact on music in late 20th century America.
Hazlewood was born July 9, 1929 in Mannford, Oklahoma. He was drawn to music early, although he studied medicine at Southern Methodist University in Dallas. During the Korean War he served in the Army. Upon his release from the military Hazlewood worked as a disc jockey. As a DJ Hazlewood befriended future rock guitarist Duane Eddy. It was in 1953 that Hazlewood registered his first copyrighted song, "For Bell Love Alarm." By 1955 Hazlewood would produce his first record for the duo of Jimmy and Duane (pianist Jimmy Dell and guitarist Duane Eddy). By 1956 Hazlewood would have his first hit, "The Fool," recorded by Sanford Clark. Hazlewood would produced Duane Eddy at the height of his career (from around 1958 to 1962). In 1963 Hazlewood launched his solo career as a singer, with the album Trouble is a Lonesome Town.
It would be in 1966 that Hazlewood would have the hit for which he has become best known. That song was "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'." It was recorded by Nancy Sinatra and became not only her first hit, but arguably her biggest hit. It has since been recorded by such diverse artists as The Residents, Lydia Lunch, Primal Scream, Megadeth, Jewel, and The Fixx. Besides "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'," Hazlewood also wrote the songs "Rebel Rouser (with Duane Eddy)," "40 Miles of Bad Road (with Duane Eddy)," "Somethin' Stupid (recorded by Frank and Nancy Sinatra)," and "Houston" (recorded by Dean Martin). He has been credited with contributing to the genre known as "Saccharine Underground" or "Cowboy Psychedelia," a genre that blended elements of rock and country. Hazlewood continued recording until recently, his last album Cake or Death being released last year.
I can't say that I was a huge fan of Lee Hazlewood's solo work, but I cannot deny that he had an influence on me through the work he did with other artists. Like everyone else since 1966, I have heard the many versions of "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'." And I have always been a fan of Duane Eddy. There can be no doubt that Hazlewood had talent. And he influenced a large range of artists, from Vanilla Fudge to Sonic Youth to Nick Cave. It cannot be denied that he had an impact on music in late 20th century America.
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