One hundred and three years ago today on this date, one of
radio’s most prolific playwrights was born in the
Windy
City…and that individual also
became a force to be reckoned with in films, television and the legitimate
the-a-tah as well. Mention “Arch Oboler”
to any old-time radio fan, and it’s likely they’ll conjure up the sound of a
giant beating heart (“Chicken Heart”) or a particularly nasty woman who is transformed into a cat (“Cat Wife”). Arch
didn’t create radio’s celebrated
Lights Out (that honor belongs to
Wyllis Cooper, who also fashioned a similar radio horror classic in
Quiet,
Please) but it would be hard to deny that he concocted most of its
best-known fright tales. Moviewise, there was a lot of
talk on both the Facebook and Twitters about TCM’s recent airing of the 1953
cult oddity
The Twonky…that film that
sprung from the fertile imagination of Mr. O himself.
I wrote up a little something
over at the Radio Spirits blog
to commemorate Arch’s natal anniversary—the blog has been kind of dormant of
late due to some shenanigans from Hurricane Sandy, and also my own bone
laziness. But we are back in business
now.
While I’m on the subject of TCM and the Twitter, it’s been
kind of an amazing week in that I’ve actually had the opportunity to watch a
couple of flicks on The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™. Last night, my
BBFF Stacia and I traded quips
during the channel’s screening of one of our favorite films (Stacia, believe it
or don’t, owns three copies of this movie),
The Third Man (1949). Monday
night, while I wasn’t able to see the 1924 version of
Captain January (my father usually has a rendezvous with kindly Doc
Maddow about that time), I did wrest hold of the TV set in time to see three of
the “Baby Peggy” shorts, followed by the documentary
Baby Peggy: The Elephant in the
Room (2012).
Let me go on record as saying
Elephant in the Room is a
first-rate documentary, a fascinating and at times poignant presentation of the
child star career of Diana Serra Cary, who as “Baby” Peggy-Jean Montgomery was
second only to Jackie Coogan as the most popular kidlet at the box office
during the 1920s. But I also want to go
on record as saying that on the basis of seeing the three shorts—
Carmen, Jr. (1923),
Peg o’the Mounted (1924) and
Such is Life (1924)—I couldn’t quite
figure out what all the fuss was about.
I have established a reputation on the Internets as a person who’s not a
big child star fan (as witnessed by my teasing referrals to a certain actress as
She Who Must Not Be Named) but I don’t dislike
all juvenile performers. The esteemed Scott C. of
World O’Crap once jokingly accused me of
not liking any kiddie thesp who wasn’t in Our Gang; an insinuation which I
resented. (I didn’t
deny it…I just
resented it.)
Be that as it may, I kind of made a Twitter enemy or two
with my candid assessment of Peg’s cinematic talents…which I’m more amused than
mad about, really. My pal Page of
My Love of Old Hollywood
has joined me in pariahdom, and like myself disdains most child actors but for
some odd reason worships at the
Temple
of Shirley. (Page has even invited the saccharine little
moppet to comment on
her pictorial posts from time to time, leading you believe that
sweet little Shirley somehow got possessed by Triumph the Insult Comic Dog.)
Back in May 2009, I did a post that mentioned a petition
started up by comedy historian Stan Taffel, asking to convince Sony Home Video
to release the twenty two-reel comedies that comedy legend Charley Chase did
for the
Columbia studio from
1937-40. Sony had struck up new 35mm
prints from the original masters of these shorts and had planned to release a
collection after the success of their 2006 box set of Buster Keaton comedy
shorts…but then that darn ol’ anemic economy put the kibosh on that.
Three years later, Sony has a volume of Chase comedies ready
to go that will be released on January 1 of the new year (a great way to usher
in 2013, I think) and though it’s one of their MOD releases (which means that
the shorts will be on DVD-R), it’s encouraging to even get them out to the
public…and in brand-spanking-new prints as well. All of the Chase Columbias I own are on DVD-R
anyway, but according to Stan the first volume set will contain three Chase
shorts I have
not seen:
The Awful Goof (1939),
The Chump Takes a Bump (1939) and
South of the Boudoir (1940). The remaining shorts on the disc will be the
Charley Chase classics
Rattling Romeo
(1939) and
The Heckler (1940), the
not-so-classic
Man Bites Lovebug (1937)
and
The Mind Needer (1938) (two of
the worst, in my opinion), and a short I like but I may be in the minority,
Skinny the Moocher (1939). (There’s also a bonus short, 1939’s
A Nag in the Bag, that while directed
by Chase stars vaudeville legends Joe Smith & Charlie Dale.)
The SRP on this disc is $20.95 but
Amazon has a pre-listing
for it at $14.67, and while the money situation is non-existent here at Rancho
Yesteryear (we’re so broke we can’t even pay attention) I hope to put this
little baby in my shopping cart before its January release. (If I can swing it, I will make sure that the
November Milestone release
Cut to the Chase: The Charley Chase Comedy Collection accompanies it so it will not be lonesome.) For those of you unfamiliar with this amazing
comedy talent—might I suggest a purchase of Kino’s
The Charley Chase Collection 2? They have it available for a limited
time at $7.99—a steal, my friends, and worth every penny.
One last minute reminder: voting for TDOY’s next Serial Saturdays cliffhanger is
about to end, and so if you have an important say in what chapter play will
torture me next be sure to cast your vote in the poll up in the upper right
corner. At last look, it appears that Don Winslow of the Navy has got the
narrow inside track…but we’ll know for certain when Adventures of Sir Galahad concludes tomorrow afternoon.
Re The Twonky:
ReplyDeleteThe word lived on, as a slang term used often by SF authors and fans alike, and came to describe any anachronism or inexplicable object left behind by careless time travelers or extraterrestrial visitors.
John Varley used it in his '83 novel Millenium, in which future folk struggle to retrieve a weapon inadvertently left behind in a time travel event, before it causes a paradox.
And Carl Sagan, famously skeptical of extraterestrial visitation, used it once in a JPL lecture in answer to the question of just what evidence there was that it hasn't happened:
"Simple. No Twonkies."
What he meant was that if there had been extraterrestrial visitation, there would surely have been something found somewhere which was obviously not of present day earth manufacture-- even something as simple as a crumpled gum wrapper of a brand not manufactured on Earth.
Not even an intelligence advanced enough for interplanetary travel is that tidy, he figured, and I agree.
I wasn't aware of the film-- I knew about the short story by Kuttner and Moore-- and alas, netflix is no help. But hooray, youtube comes through again.
Whew, last add The Twonky, at first sort of charming but then turning into kind of a tough slog. No one ever accused Arch Obeler of overly subtle humor, that's for sure!
ReplyDeleteStill, an interesting artifact, and I noted with some amusement that the Twonky nannied every aspect of Cary West's life and health, regulating his intake of alcohol, coffee, etc.--
But had no problem with the Chesterfields!