Monday, April 30, 2012

Mayberry Mondays #39: “Palm Springs Cowboy” (12/29/69, prod. no. 0215)


Before Sheriff Andy Taylor (Andy Griffith) sneaked out of that sleepy little North Carolina town millions of TV viewers came to know as Mayberry and relocated to Raleigh, he made five appearances on the sitcom that followed in the wake of The Andy Griffith Show (our beloved Mayberry R.F.D.)…and every time, his presence was announced with this title card:


The only individuals other than Griffith to get a “Special Guest Star” designation are Don Knotts (because he reprises his role of “Barney Fife” in R.F.D.’s inaugural episode, “Andy and Helen Get Married”)…and this gentleman right here:


Very impressive, Mr. Kotter!  Classic movie buffs are of course well acquainted with Dick Foran, “the matinee idol of B pictures.”  Among his memorable film roles: The Petrified Forest, Black Legion, Daughters Courageous, My Little Chickadee, The House of Seven Gables, The Mummy’s Hand, Fort Apache and Donovan’s Reef (believe me—this is just the tip of the iceberg).  As the motion picture work started to dry up, Foran found steady employment as a frequent TV guest star, and even managed to land semi-regular gigs on such shows as Lassie and O.K. Crackerby! (a short-lived sitcom starring Burl Ives).  But with this Mayberry R.F.D. episode, Foran would bid show business adieu…so I guess the R.F.D. people thought it would be fitting to give him a little special treatment for his swan song.

As our episode begins, a car driven by Mayberry’s pedantic county clerk Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson) pulls up in front of the palatial manse where our colorful cast of zanies has been staying for the past several episodes, enjoying a little R&R in Palm Springs.  Mike Jones (Buddy Foster), the idiot son of poor-but-honest-dirt-farmer (and city council head) Sam Jones (Ken Berry), has emerged from Hacienda del Selma.

HOWARD: Good morning, Mike!  Where is everybody?
MIKE: They’re coming…hope we’re not late…
HOWARD: Nah…we’ve got lots of time…
MIKE: Do you think they’re gonna have pancakes on a chuck wagon?
HOWARD: Sure they will!  Only you better call them “flapjacks” unless you want the cowboys snickerin’ at ya…

Yeah…like they won’t start guffawing the moment the little mook accidentally jabs a fork into his forehead.


Mike volunteers to go back into the house and see what’s holding up the crew…which leaves Howard plenty of time to mosey.  And unfortunately for this poor schmo who’s just emerged from his domicile looking for his morning paper…he’s going to have to make Howard’s acquaintance—whether he wants to or not.

HOWARD: Hi, neighbor!
MICHAELS: Mornin’…
HOWARD (chuckling): Beautiful morning, huh?
MICHAELS: Uh…yeah…
HOWARD (extending his hand): I’m Howard Sprague…
MICHAELS (reluctantly shaking Howard’s hand): Oh…Walter Michaels…
HOWARD: Pleased to meet you…the reason I’m all decked out in Western togs this morning is on account of a bunch of us are going for a breakfast ride…
MICHAELS: Oh?  Well… (He bends down and picks up his paper) I got some coffee going, so…
HOWARD: I guess you’ve been wondering what all of us have been doing over there at the Benton house, huh?
MICHAELS: No…not really

As my nephew likes to say (because he watches entirely too many Thomas & Friends episodes): “That made Ivan laugh.”

HOWARD: Whole bunch of us out here on vacation…you know, a very lovely lady that we call “Aunt Bee” is a friend of Selma Benton’s and…Selma is allowing us to use her house for a while…
MICHAELS: Oh…great…
HOWARD: We’re from Mayberry, North Carolina
MICHAELS: Wonderful…well, I’d better…
HOWARD: It’s not Palm Springs, of course, but we’re mighty proud of it…I’m the county clerk…
MICHAELS: Oh…good to hear…well, I’d better check my coffee…
HOWARD: What line of work are you in?
MICHAELS: Good, good…I’d better get in and see…
HOWARD: Uh…you didn’t understand…I was asking what line of work you’re in?
MICHAELS: Oh…picture business…
HOWARD: Oh, hey… (Realization sets in) Wait a minute…Walter Michaels!  Yes!  You’re the famous Hollywood producer!  Well, I’ve seen your name on the silver screen many times!  Oh, it’s certainly a pleasure to meet you!
MICHAELS (having his arm shook vigorously by Howard): Thanks…thanks…

The part of the unfortunate Mr. Michaels is played by veteran character great Arthur Space (his attempts to get away from the garrulous Howard are flat-out hysterical) who started in motion pictures in 1941 (with Riot Squad) and worked steadily in the movie and TV bidness for forty years after, his last credit being an episode of the TV series Walking Tall (based on the 1973 film of the same name).  I’ve mentioned Space previously in this space (sorry…couldn’t resist) since he appeared as a policeman in both The Fuller Brush Man and The Fuller Brush Girl, but he also turns up in such films as Tortilla Flat, Whistling in Brooklyn, The Big Noise, Leave it to Blondie, Our Vines Have Tender Grapes, A Southern Yankee, 20 Million Miles to Earth and the 1955 serial cheese fest Panther Girl of the Kongo.  His TV appearances are also too numerous to document here, but he’s probably best known for his role as Herbert Brown, the ex-jockey father of Velvet Brown (Lori Nelson) in the boob tube version of National Velvet.

HOWARD: I always thought I had a flair for the picture business myself…of course…the opportunity just never came up…
MICHAELS: Maybe some day…
HOWARD: Yeah…

Sam’s voice can be heard calling Howard from across the street, so Michaels should be commended for resisting the urge to fall on his knees and thank his God for deliverance.  Howard has places to go and people to see (trash to haul, corn to hoe) so he takes his leave of his new friend, telling him “I’ll see you later, Wally!”  Howard runs up to the car where Sam, Mike, village idiot Goober Pyle (George Lindsey) and fix-it savant Emmett Clark are waiting.

HOWARD: You know who our neighbor across the street is?
SAM: No…
HOWARD: Walter Michaels!  The big picture producer!
SAM: No kidding!
HOWARD: Yeah…yeah…we got real chummy, too—he’s a great guy…I’d still be yakkin’ away if you hadn’t called me…

A condition which Mr. Michaels is all-too-aware…I wouldn’t be surprised if he never went outside again unless he has positive proof Howard and Company have gone back to Mayberry.  Sam, on the other hand, is ready to “saddle up” before they all miss the “breakfast ride,” so Howard climbs into the back seat with Goober and Goober, Jr. Mike.  “Moving pictures…oh boy!  You know, that’s something I wish I’d considered more seriously when I was planning my career.”  Just think…if things had been different, you’d have a scenario where a studio head would be saying: “I think this leading man needs to be a little more boring…find out if Howard Sprague is available!  And if we can’t get him, get me a Howard Sprague-type!”

I suppose you’ve figured out by now that the female contingent on Mayberry R.F.D.—evil housekeeper Beatrice “Aunt Bee” Taylor (Frances Bavier) and lovely bakery chippie Millie Swanson (Arlene Golonka)—will not be heard from this week so it’s pretty much going to be an all testosterone R.F.D. with one exception (but I’m getting ahead of the story).  Goober and Mike are riding up on horseback as our scene shifts to the “breakfast ride,” and Goob can be heard warbling Home on the Range, much to the neighboring coyotes’ disapproval.

SAM: Where have you been?  Breakfast has been ready for ten minutes…
GOOBER: Oh, we’ve just been scoutin’ around to see if there was any Injuns in the area…ain’t that right, Mike?
MIKE: Yep!  Ain’t seen nary a one…
SAM: Ah…good…good…it’ll be nice to eat breakfast without a bunch of arrows flying around…

After Sam lifts Mike down from his horse, the little cretin runs over to where this week’s guest star is manning a griddle and flipping pancakes:

KING: Hey there, Mike!  How about a couple of nice golden brown pancakes?
MIKE: You mean flapjacks
KING: Oh!  Sorry…flapjacks…
(Sam and Goober are also making their way over to where King is cooking)
SAM (to Goober): I never saw John Wayne get off a horse like that…
(Goober responds with something I couldn’t hear because the laugh track drowns him out)
KING: How many can you handle, friend?
GOOBER: Oh, about ten…I’ll see how they set…

Every episode of R.F.D. has some dumb piece of business or line of dialogue guaranteed to make me snort with laughter.  And with that out of the way…

HOWARD: Boy, you know you really get the feel of the Old West on an outing like this…
EMMETT: Yeah…especially around my feet…I got sand in my shoes…
HOWARD: Oh, Emmett…you’re always thinking of nothing but creature comforts…you know right now you’re probably sitting in an area where once great herds of buffalo roamed…
EMMETT: Yeah…probably looking for a way to get out of the sun
HOWARD: Some outdoorsman…

Hey…as a guy whose only contact with The Great Outdoors is drinking cocktails on our carport, I can certainly sympathize with Emmett here.  The man who was manning the “flapjacks” then walks over to a covered wagon and pulls a guitar down…

KING: All right, you cowpokes…in the tradition of the Old West, we’re gonna have a little music…any requests?
HOWARD: “Wagon Wheel!”
GOOBER: “Ridin’ Old Paint!”

Freebird!”

KING: All right…which one will it be?
GOOBER: Have him sing “Ridin’ Old Paint,” Howard…that’s my favorite…
HOWARD: Okay…”Old Paint!”

As the balladeer launches into song, the Mayberry contingent listens as they scarf up their pancakes.  Mid-song, Emmett starts to experience déjà vu—he’s sure he knows this guy from somewhere, and Sam is in agreement.  Goober shushes the both of them, but a few bars later the penny has finally dropped:

EMMETT: Hey—do you know who that is?  That’s King Beaumont!
SAM: Hey…by golly, I think you’re right!
MIKE: Who’s he?
HOWARD: He used to be a singing cowboy in pictures…one of the really big ones!
GOOBER: King Beaumont…wow!
MIKE: What’s he working here for?
SAM: Well…singing cowboys went out about twenty years ago, Mike…a man’s gotta make a living…

“You’ll learn this when you get older, kid…after your sister has won two Oscars and you’re the third-shift manager at IHOP.”  Beaumont, having finished his song, gets a spirited round of applause, cheers and loud whistles from his breakfast patrons…and he promises another song “to aid the digestion” after everyone finishes.

GOOBER: Mr. Beaumont?
KING: Yeah?
GOOBER: I’m Goober Pyle… (He extends his hand for a shake)
KING: Oh?

That’s an odd reaction.  The usual response is raised eyebrows and a slight gasp…

GOOBER: We just recognized ya…I seen a lot of your pictures…
KING: You did, huh?
GOOBER: The one I liked best was Moonlight on the Trail
KING: Say, that was a great picture…yeah, I remember that last scene…ridin’ up through the arroyo…with Jennie Mae sittin’ there with my horse and I’m singin’ “Moonlight on the Trail”…ah, they don’t make pictures like that anymore…
GOOBER: You plannin’ on doin’ any more of them pictures?
KING: Well, I’m…bidin’ my time, you know…waitin’ for the picture business to realize that’s the kind of entertainment that’s gotta come back…
GOOBER: I’m gonna finish my breakfast and we’ll talk some more!
KING: Right!

Goober gives King his trademark tongue click, then wanders off in the direction of his friends.  During their conversation, Howard wandered over to eavesdrop and is now going to seize an opportunity to name-drop:

HOWARD (to King): You know Walter Michaels?
KING: The big picture producer? (Shaking his head slightly) I never met him; no…he’s a big man…a real big man…

With an eye like an eagle and as tall as a mountain was he…”

HOWARD: We’re right across the street from him!
KING: Oh, you are?
HOWARD: Mm-hmm…as a matter of fact, I was talking to Wally just this morning…we had a nice chat about the business…

Howard says “Wally” as if he was the guy who used to be Goober’s (and Gomer’s) boss…

KING: Ah…are…you in pictures?
HOWARD: Well, no…no…not actually…but…I’ve always had a feel for it, though…
KING: Yeah…
HOWARD: Well, I’ll let ya…I’ll let ya get back to work…

Howard gives Beaumont a friendly wave…and King watches him walk away, with a sort of wistful look in his eye.  This cannot be good, because it’s clear he’s convinced that Howard may be able to open doors for him when in reality the most Mistah Sprague could do is give him an extension on the deadline for his property tax.  The scene shifts to poolside at Chez Selma, and as Sam, Goober and Mike continue to enjoy the benefits of knowing a rich old dame and her pool, Howard “Scoop” Sprague has been hard at work hunched over his Olivetti Praxis (oh, it only sounds dirty)…

HOWARD: Hey, fellas…see what you think of this… (Howard walks over to where Goober and Mike are horsing around on the diving board) To the Mayberry Gazette, for immediate release…Palm Springs byline by Howard Sprague…”Hello, Mayberry!  This is your man in Palm Springs, the land of sunshine and celebrities…FLASH!  Speaking of celebrities, guess who your reporter had breakfast with this morning?  None other than King Beaumont, the famous singing cowboy star!”
GOOBER: Well, I had breakfast with him, too!

“FLASH!  Former movie cowboy King Beaumont charitably allows himself to be eating breakfast with local moron!”  Howard gives Goober one of his trademark hilarious glares, but is interrupted by none other than Beaumont himself.  Now…I was admittedly puzzled as to how Beaumont located the address where our Mayberryians are staying—Howard did mention they were right across the street from producer Michaels, so it’s possible that King made a few phone calls and tracked them down that way.  But on further contemplation, I have decided that this is just lazy move-the-plot-along shorthand courtesy of veteran R.F.D. scribes Dick Bensfield and Perry Grant.

KING: Howdy!
HOWARD: Well, hi there!
(The rest of those assembled enthusiastically greet Beaumont as well)
KING: Well, I hope you don’t mind my bargin’ in like this…
HOWARD: No—not at all!  Sit down—make yourself at home…you know all these fellas here, don’t you?
KING: Yeah…sure…

“There’s the dumb guy…the really dumb guy…and the guy with the dumb kid…”

KING: Well, the reason I stopped by is I brought you by a picture script to read… (He hands it to Howard)
HOWARD: Me?
KING: Yeah!  You bein’ a pal of Walter Michaels, I thought you might be able to get him to read it, too…
HOWARD: Oh…well…
KING: It’s an original western…yes sir, this might bring the singin’ cowboy back…and that’s what the public’s been waitin’ for!  Now let me tell ya somethin’…the thing that they’re tryin’ to get rid of in pictures today is violence, right?  Now the singin’ cowboy wasn’t a violent man…he maintained law and order, but he did with a song instead of a gun…

Um…I don’t want to break ranks here…but I’ve seen a few Gene Autry and Roy Rogers pictures.  Those guns on their holsters weren’t there because they came with the holsters.

HOWARD: Well…gee, King…I don’t know if I’m the right man
KING: Mr. Sprague…the minute I met you, I sized you up as a go-getter…a fella we can use in the picture business…

…and I’m beginning to understand why Beaumont is now fry cook on a chuck wagon.

KING: Yes, sir…I figure that you and me and Walter Michaels can wrap up this whole package and put the picture business right back where it should be!

“Hey!  They’ve brought the nickelodeons back!”  King leaves the script with Howard, telling him he can pass it off to his “friend” Walter Michaels to let him know what he thinks, and that he’ll be “waiting for his call.”  Taking the script—entitled “Stranger at Rustlers’ Gulch”—out of the envelope, Howard offers up a preview for his friends:

HOWARD: “A dust-covered stagecoach, drawn by four lather-whipped horses, skids to a stop in front of the Wells Fargo office…and an exhausted driver steps down from the box…the driver says: ‘The gold!  They took the gold!  The Daggett brothers cut us off at the pass!”
MIKE: Boy!
GOOBER (grinning like a you-know-what): I always love it when they steal the gold…

With the passage of time and a few glasses of lemonade, Howard is in the homestretch:

HOWARD: “…with the Daggett brothers finally behind bars, peace has come once again to the valley of the little town of Rustlers’ Gulch…we see King Beaumont, sitting on the top rail of the corral fence, looking into Jennie Mae’s eyes and singing ‘Old Faithful’ as Valiant, his trusty horse, nudges his nose between them…the end…”
GOOBER: It’s gotta be a hit!

Well, as a Facebook friend of mine who’s also in the movie bidness would say: “Does it have to be a horse?”

MIKE: Those Daggetts really got what was coming to them!
HOWARD: I see real merit in this!  Oh, it could use some updating, without question…but I…I think the conflict between good and evil is very nicely handled…what do you think, Sam?
SAM: Oh boy—don’t ask me, Howard…I don’t know how these things are supposed to look on paper…

“Besides…you’re the one in the motion picture business, C.B…”

HOWARD: You know, the one thing that King said that stuck with me is there’s no violence in this…I mean, the singing cowboy was one who could handle any sort of situation without resorting to gunplay…and I think the time is definitely right for a return to this kind of picture…
GOOBER: Well, I say he’s right…yo-yo’s was out for a while but they’re coming back strong…

No…I won’t do it.  They’ve made it too easy.

HOWARD: I’m gonna set up a meeting with King and Walter Michaels and…present the whole package to them…
SAM: Well…good luck on it, Howard, but…I-I-I think you might be getting in way over your head on this thing…
HOWARD: Hmm…maybe so, Sam…but I think it’s worth a try…and…forgetting my involvement in it for a moment…well, this could very well be King Beaumont’s last opportunity to get back on the trail again…

Back from the General Foods break, we learn that rather than having his people call Michaels’ people, Howard has decided to wait outside the producer’s front gate until he goes after his morning paper.  (Space does a funny bit of physical business here, looking for his paper while clearly hung over.)

HOWARD (chuckling as he replaces the rubber band on the newspaper):  Here’s your paper…
MICHAELS (yawning): Oh, thanks…
HOWARD: The reason I’m here is…I came across an item that I think might be of great interest to you…
MICHAELS: Fine, fine…I’ll see ya… (He turns to go back inside)
HOWARD: No no no—wait a minute…you don’t understand!
MICHAELS: Well, I have some coffee on…and yesterday…
HOWARD: No no, Mr. Michaels…look…this could be one of the greatest things to happen in the motion picture business in years!
MICHAELS: Really, I’ve got all I can handle…

“Will you get the hell out of here before I have you arrested for stalking!”

HOWARD: Now, look—the whole presentation will only take an hour or so…why don’t you come on over later this morning?
MICHAELS: I couldn’t…I’m planning to have some friends over…
HOWARD: How about this afternoon then?
MICHAELS: This afternoon I’m going to…
HOWARD: Well then, how about this evening?  Or any time?  Anytime at all, you name it!
MICHAELS (resignedly): This afternoon…two o’clock
HOWARD: Great!  I guarantee you won’t regret it!  See ya later, Wally!

Howard claps Michaels on the back and sends him reeling slightly, which is good for a chuckle.  The scene shifts to the inside of the vacationers’ hacienda, where a seated Michaels is being offered appetizers (since Aunt Bee is nowhere around this week, I was curious as to whether she prepared them):

MICHAELS: No, thank you…thanks anyway…
HOWARD: Well, now…these are chopped egg…and your deviled hams are here…
MICHAELS: Just finished lunch, thanks…
HOWARD: Oh… (He takes the tray away but Goober stops him momentarily to load up) Well, Mr. Michaels…I guess the first thing to do is to clue you in on what this is all about, huh?
MICHAELS: Yes…
HOWARD: It’s a western…and knowing how many westerns you’ve done, I think this might be right up your alley…
GOOBER (to Michaels): It’s all about them no-good Daggett brothers…they’re gold stealers…

This is why it’s always a good idea to keep pets outside when company is here.

HOWARD: Goober…please…now we’ve got a script all right here, Mr. Michaels…it needs polished—but I think it will work…
MICHAELS: I see…
HOWARD: The reason why I didn’t want you to read it up until now is that I wanted you to wait until you could meet our star—he should be here any minute…then you can see the whole ball of wax at one time…
MICHAELS (without much enthusiasm): Right…
HOWARD: We think it has great promise…don’t we, Sam?
SAM: Hmm? Oh…yes…great promise…

Howard, buddy…you need better “yes” men.

MICHAELS: This is it, eh?  (He picks up the script)
HOWARD: That’s the baby!
MICHAELS (putting on his glasses and reading the title): “Stranger at Rustlers’ Gulch?”
HOWARD: Got a nice grab to it, doesn’t it?
MICHAELS: Uh…titles are sometimes misleading

The doorbell rings, and Howard sings out “That must be our man now!”  (I kind of chuckled at this point—not because of what Howard said, but because the doorbell chimes are the same as the curfew bell that rang in my hometown in Ravenswood, WV when I was growing up.)  Howard ushers in King Beaumont, who is accompanied by two other actors dressed in Western garb.  “I brought the whole gang with me here,” King informs the others.  “Thought you might want to meet my partners in this thing…”  After shaking hands with Michaels, he introduces the first of his “partners”…


…her character’s name is “Jennie Mae Swanson”—and while her face might not be immediately familiar, her voice will be to many old-time radio fans.  She’s Jeanne Bates, and during the Golden Age of Radio she made the rounds on many of the best-known series: Escape, The Whistler, Night Beat, Gunsmoke, Have Gun – Will Travel and many, many more.  In fact, it was her radio work— in San Francisco, she appeared on soap operas and on the mystery program Whodunit (where she also “screamed” every week)—that got her a contract with Columbia Pictures in the early 1940s, appearing in such films as The Chance of a Lifetime, The Return of the Vampire, Shadows in the Night, Soul of a Monster and as the leading lady in the 1943 chapter play based on Lee Falk’s The Phantom.  Beginning in the 1950s, she worked like a fiend as a guest star on such TV shows as The Restless Gun, Wagon Train, Perry Mason and Bachelor Father—with a recurring role as “Nurse Wills” on the 1961-66 medical drama Ben Casey (and later continued in the nursing profession in the daytime soap Days of Our Lives). Cult film aficionados will recognize her as “Mrs. X” in David Lynch’s Eraserhead (she also had a small part in the director’s Mulholland Dr., her last feature film before her death in 2007).  This is the first of two appearances for Jeanne on this program; she will return later down the road in the episode “The Health Fund.”


The gentleman beside Howard is introduced as “Shorty Williams,” and he is played by utility thesp William “Bill” McLean.  McLean was a member in good standing of the Hey!  It’s That Guy fraternity—a hard-working actor who may not have been credited in many of his film appearances (which include everything from I Was a Male War Bride to House) but definitely made the rounds when TV became popular, appearing on such shows as The Adventures of Ozzie & Harriet, Burke’s Law, Petticoat Junction and on and on and on.  Here at Rancho Yesteryear, however, McLean has been immortalized as “Harvey Moorhouse” from the WKRP in Cincinnati episode “Secrets of Dayton Heights”—a Communist barber who is in reality the real father of the station’s resident oddball reporter Les Nessman (Richard Sanders).

King assumed that Michaels wanted to meet his supporting cast (when in actuality he’s frantically looking for the exits) and tells the producer that Shorty “does all the comical stuff”…


This results in a hearty guffaw from Goober, who during the course of the visit finds himself continuously amused by Shorty’s antics.  (This might help Howard sell the picture idea…because Hollywood is renowned for wanting to get as many dolts in the theater seats as is possible.)

HOWARD: Well, in case this is all happening too fast for you, Mr. Michaels…this is…this is King Beaumont!
MICHAELS: King…Beaumont?
HOWARD: The famous singing cowboy!

Michaels, an individual who couldn’t tell the difference between King Beaumont and King Vidor if they both bit him on the inner thigh, continues to humor the cowboy and his handler (Howard).

MICHAELS: Oh, yes…yes, of course…
KING: Did you happen to read the script, Mr. Michaels?
MICHAELS: No…well…just the title…
KING; Well, uh…that’s all right…Jennie Mae and Shorty and I will act out some of the high spots for ya…
MICHAELS: Fine, fine…

So the Mighty Beaumont Art Players set up a makeshift stage in the living room.  What follows is a very uncomfortable scene—King and the others are acting in earnest, but it becomes painfully obvious that the scenario (as well as their performances) is what would be considered “camp” and “old-hat” today.  (In their defense, Goober is entertained by it all.)  Even Beaumont’s warbling of O Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie isn’t enough to overcome the fact that this is sadly an era whose time has passed.


HOWARD: Well…how ‘bout that?  (He chuckles to break the stony silence)
SAM: Didn’t have any violence!
MICHAELS (shaking his head): Mm-hmm…
KING: Of course, with a little rehearsal we could get it down pat…
MICHAELS: Oh, sure…sure…takes rehearsing…
SHORTY: Yeah…I-I-I could probably do a little bit better if I had my own props and all…
JENNIE MAE: Good lighting helps a lot, too…
MICHAELS: Sure…sure…
KING: You know…Shorty does a funny thing here with the horse…he…he steps right over him, trying to get on (Chuckling)…
JENNIE MAE: Should we do the scene in the corral?
SHORTY: Would you like to see that, Mr. Michaels?
MICHAELS: No…no, thanks…I think I get the general idea…uh…I’m just wondering, though, if the time is right to bring back this type of picture…
HOWARD: Well…that…that…that might be a very good point, Mr. Michaels…yes…
MICHAELS: Maybe in another year or two…
HOWARD: Yeah!  Yeah!
KING: Yeah…maybe in another year or two…

King asks for his script back, trying to save face by mentioning that a couple of other people want to look at it.  Michaels gracefully exits by announcing he’s expecting a call from New York and he has to get back to the house.  Usually when I tear up during an episode of R.F.D. it’s because it’s lousy…but I got a little misty-eyed, knowing that this type of picture has come and gone—nostalgia isn’t what it used to be, and the only tonic is reminiscing once a week every Wednesday here on the blog.

EMMETT (trying to console King): That’s only one producer’s opinion…
KING: Sure…sure…
SAM: There are plenty of producers around…
GOOBER: Sure…there’ll be somebody else who’s interested…
JENNIE MAE: We sure want to thank you folks for trying to help us…
KING: Yeah…thanks a lot for everything and…we’ll be seein’ you fellas…
SHORTY: Yeah…I gotta go…my horse is double-parked out in front…
GOOBER (to King): Um…where you going?
KING: Well, it’s gettin’ kind of late and…
GOOBER: Well…ain’t ya gonna stay and sing some more for us?
SAM: Hey…yeah…w-w-would you do that for us, King?  Hey, it’s been a long time since we’ve heard this kind of music…
EMMETT: Yeah!  Sing us one of those songs you made famous!  It’d be a great treat, King!
SAM: Yeah…how about “Red River Valley?”  That was always one of my favorites, huh?
GOOBER: Mine, too!
EMMETT: How ‘bout it, King?
KING (moved): Well, I…guess we have a few minutes to spare…huh?
JENNIE MAE: “Red River Valley” it is!
SHORTY: Yeah, what the heck—let that crazy ol’ horse of mine get a ticket...

King sings Valley while strumming his guitar, and then has everyone join in on the final chorus for a touching (if incredibly off-key) sing-a-long.  When he’s finished, Goober has one of his rare lucid moments when he declares: “Boy, them kinda songs ain’t never gonna die.”

Okay…I know what you’re thinking—“Sheesh, Iv…you really got sappy there in the homestretch.”  But I’m not going to disappoint you…we still have a coda to this thing, which ends with one last dip in the waters of Selma’s pool from the people who trashed her house while she was away.


HOWARD: Hey…you know…I think that King and Shorty and Jennie Mae felt a lot better by the time they left, huh?
GOOBER: Yeah, singin’ always seems to help… (He laughs)
SAM: Boy, we sure had some experiences here in “the Springs,” haven’t we?

That’s what the locals call it…”the Springs.”

HOWARD: Yeah…
SAM: Cowboys…dune buggies…golf…
EMMETT: Yeah…tomorrow it’s all over…
HOWARD: What time does the plane leave?
SAM: Ten o’clock…gee, I wonder how my farm’s looking these days?

Oh…probably like one that’s consistently neglected by a man who spends most of his waking hours inside a crappy fix-it shop yammering with yokels.  (But I’ll admit I could be biased.)

EMMETT: Oh, with Ralph takin’ care of it you got nothin’ to worry about…

The smart money says he burned it down for the insurance.

GOOBER: I been wondering about the gas station…I sure hope that Hurston boy was able to take care of my customers…

He buried them in alphabetical order around back…don’t make such a fuss.

HOWARD: Well, we’ll know for sure by tomorrow night…
EMMETT: Yeah…it’s been a wonderful vacation…
SAM: Nice to have been here…and it’ll be nice to get back to Mayberry…
HOWARD (raising his glass, with the others following suit): Hear hear!

And all the time I thought those guys were drinking lemonade.

With Aunt Bee a no-show this week (“Officer, I swear…she wandered off while we were on vacation and we don’t know where the hell she went…”) Thrilling Days of Yesteryear’s patented Bee-O-Meter™ budges nary an inch, standing at six appearances for the show’s second season, and a total of eighteen show-ups in the entire enchilada.  Actually, we’re in for another Aunt Bee dry spell—she won’t return until episode #42, “The New Well”—so I’m thinking about putting the Bee-O-Meter™ in mothballs until her return.

Instead, we will celebrate a milestone with this write-up: I am halfway through the R.F.D. series.  (There were 78 episodes in all…26 per season.)  Eventually I will have to find another sitcom to mock (I’m still a year away from that, of course) but I’ve been turning a few candidates around in my head.  I thought about tackling F Troop next, to keep the Ken Berry thing going (the advantages of that are I have all the episodes in better visual quality on DVD…downside is that I like the show too much to poke fun at it) but I think I’m going to let Hal at The Horn Section tackle that when he gets the chance.  The Flying Nun is a strong candidate—I’d just have to find the third and final season since it’s not been made available to DVD (and re-learn what I forgot in Catholic school).  And I’ve also been considering Family Affair, only because it starts with an “F” and I could call the feature Family Affair Fridays…but I don’t know if my insurance will cover me watching all those episodes.  The strongest contender is The Doris Day Show—simply because it’s ripe for sending up (Matt Hinrichs once joked that the opening credits of that series were reminiscent of a feminine hygiene commercial) what with its format changes each year (and eventual disappearance of Doris’ kids).  But like I said: that’s still a long ways off, so have some a piece of cake and be back with me next week for more Mayberry shenanigans with “Goober’s Niece.”

Smells like victory



I’m in busy beaver-mode today because today is Mayberry Monday…but I just wanted to take a brief second to congratulate longtime TDOY reader/supporter and proud Hoosier Tom S. for scoring a free copy of 3rd Rock from the Sun: Season 3 since he was the winner in the blog’s giveaway.  As always, I wish I had enough copies to send out to all who entered—but you can take consolation that there’s nothing stopping you from entering TDOY’s Roseanne contest, which I announced yesterday eve.  It is my dream that sometime in the future, everyone who’s ever entered one of my contests walks away with some free stuff.  You have to admit—it’s much more optimistic than the one I have where I realize I have to take that college final and I didn’t show up for class all semester.  (And when I get there, I’m naked…I’m still trying to figure that one out.)

Anyway, I have contacted Barbara at TVFlashbacks.com and provided her with Tom’s snail-mail so I’m sure she will get that out to him with all deliberate speed.  Remember, if you’re interested in adding the 3rd Rock from the Sun re-releases to your own TV-on-DVD library, you can get them with a nifty little discount here but this offer is only good until May 15.  Thrilling Days of Yesteryear—where the winning tradition continues!

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Dreams of the everyday housewife



On May 20, 1997, Roseanne Barr Pentland Arnold Thomas (which I am hereafter shortening to Roseanne) wrapped up nine seasons of her enormously popular self-titled television sitcom with a page right out of the Newhart playbook: the entire run of the show had all been a dream.  What had played enormously funny on Bob Newhart’s 1982-90 series (with the main character on that show, Dick Loudon, revealed to be Bob Hartley, the main character on Newhart’s previous 70s sitcom) didn’t quite go over too well with regards to Roseanne…and though some might argue that would entail a double standard with regards to gender I think the reason why fans of Roseanne’s sitcom were disappointed is because they saw the series as a far more realistic program—almost like pages from their own family’s scrapbook.  (Newhart, on the other hand, rarely had any loftier pretensions than being an updated version of Green Acres…with the classic premise of a sane man trapped in a town populated by zanies.)

And yet if the two shows were opposite one another in reruns, I’d tune into Newhart as opposed to Roseanne.  I probably need to get this out in the open—while I don’t dislike the sitcom (it was without question one of the most groundbreaking family comedies in the history of the cathode ray tube), I rarely watched it during its original network airing; in fact, it wasn’t until I viewed some of the episodes on Mill Creek Entertainment’s re-release of Roseanne: The Complete Fourth Season a few days ago that I was surprised I had seen more of the series than I remembered.  When I moved back to Morgantown, West Virginia in the winter of 1992 (what has now become known as my “years in exile”) and stayed with my BFF The Duchess for a year before getting a place of my own, I apparently watched Roseanne more than I remembered…The Duchess was a big fan of the show, and so I probably just happened to be in the living room when it was on.  (The dysfunctionality of Roseanne’s TV family sort of mirrored that of my friend’s…though I imagine it duplicated a lot of other real-life clans as well.)

The Halloween shows on Roseanne were legendary...so much so that people joked the reason why the family was always in trouble financially was that they blew the household budget on costumes.  (John Goodman deadpanned on Larry King's show one time that Halloween was the family's "religious holiday" because "they're Satanists.")

Before her sitcom premiered in the fall of 1988, Roseanne was a successful stand-up comedienne whose schtick was wry observations about her life as a housewife and mother (or as she liked to call it, a “domestic goddess”).  She had appeared on both the Johnny Carson and David Letterman shows, not to mention an HBO production (The Roseanne Barr Show) which nabbed her an American Comedy Award as Funniest Female Performer in a TV Special.  This laid the groundwork for the series that eventually became Roseanne; executive producers Marcy Carsey and Tom Werner wanted to create a “no perks” family comedy for TV and commissioned writer Matt Williams (who had worked on domcom The Cosby Show) to write the pilot.  Roseanne was hired to star in the series and according to record she and Williams worked in tandem to fashion the character on her standup act.  But when the series debuted on October 18, 1988, Williams received sole credit (as dictated by the Writers Guild) as creator, and Roseanne cried foul.  Slighting Roseanne for her contributions to the show sparked a war that lasted pretty much during the show’s entire run; Williams was soon ousted by ABC as executive producer (Williams swore he’d never again work with another comedian but changed his mind after meeting Tim Allen, creating Tim’s hit sitcom Home Improvement) and a revolving door of producers and writers soon become SOP on the show.  By the end of the first season Roseanne was an certified smash, and ended up ranked as the #2 series in TV Land according to the A.C. Nielsen ratings.  (It became the most-watched show among TV audiences in the season that followed, and spent five additional years among TV’s top ten shows as well.) 

The tumultuous history behind Roseanne could be the subject of a blog in and of itself, so I should probably concentrate on the sitcom in general (and its third and fourth seasons, the DVD sets I was asked to review).  For those of you not familiar with the series, Roseanne played Roseanne Connor, a housewife living in fictional Lanford, IL who maintained a blue collar household (I know Roseanne was never comfortable with the term “blue collar,” but she’s got her own damn blog, so she can bitch about my using it over there) with husband Dan (John Goodman), a struggling contractor, and three children—daughters Becky (Lecy Goranson) and Darlene (Sara Gilbert) and son D.J. (Michael Fishman).  The Conner clan were unabashedly working class, which was undeniably part of their appeal to many viewers; throughout the series’ nine years on the air Mom and Dad Conner worked a series of low-paying thankless jobs while attempting to start their own small businesses (sometimes without success)…and the emphasis was always on the struggles (and tiny triumphs) of getting by.  The kids fought like cats and dogs and were fearlessly mouthy toward their parents—who reacted to all this with a refreshing sardonic scorn—but as is the case with most families, there was no denying the love and affection under the sarcastic surface.

Jackie, Dan and Roseanne react in horror when they discover that Becky has gestured that the school is "number one" in "Bird is the Word," one of my favorite Season 3 episodes.  (I relate to this because a similar incident occurred with my graduating class' group yearbook picture...though I cannot stress enough that I did not participate in such shenanigans.)

In the early years of Roseanne, the titular character worked at a company called Wellman Plastics along with her sister Jackie Harris (Laurie Metcalf) and best friend Crystal Anderson (Natalie West).  Roseanne’s tenure at Wellman lasted a single season (she had a falling out with a newly hired foreman, played by “Lazy” Fred Dalton Thompson, and walked off the job along with Jackie and Crystal) and by year two was working a number of menial jobs (including telemarketing and fast food cashiering) before landing a gig at a salon sweeping up floors.  In Seasons 3-4, things started to look up—she was hired by a department store luncheonette as a waitress, creating conflicts with her boss Leon Carp (Martin Mull) and cementing a friendship with co-worker Bonnie Watkins (singer Bonnie Bramlett).  Dan, on the other hand, continued in the contracting/drywall business until the end of Season 3, when an old pal named Ziggy (Jay O. Sanders) talked him into buying a custom motorcycle shop…and then left town, never to be seen on the series again.  (In his defense, he did leave behind an envelope containing $20,000.)  The following season then concentrated on the efforts of Dan to keep his new motorcycle business afloat…but living in a financially depressed community like Lanford, it would not prove to be easy.

Everybody's gotta start somewhere: at left, Alyson Hannigan (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, How I Met Your Mother) plays one of Becky's girlfriends in "Like, A Waitress."  At right, the stupefyingly popular Leonard DiCaprio can be glimpsed as one of Darlene's classmates in the "Home Ec" episode.  (Both episodes are from Season 3.)

From the time Roseanne first went on the air, its star battled constantly for creative control, and in an interview on the Season 4 DVD set she talks about how the fourth season marked the point when the show started to hit its stride.  I have a minority opinion on this: while I still think the show was funny, I’ve always preferred the earlier seasons when Roseanne was less interested in making a statement every week and was content to just make me laugh.  I don’t say this to denigrate the accomplishments of the show; it tackled subjects that at that time were considered third-rails on TV, including birth control, teen pregnancy, abortion and domestic violence.  It fearlessly presented strong, positive female role models—not to mention gay characters—and refused to cast the lead characters with stereotypical “pretty people”; Roseanne and Dan Conner were schlubby but unpretentious, looking pretty much the way normal parents did.

But by Season 4, Roseanne’s quest for realism had an effect on the show’s laugh content—it seemed so wrapped up in its own drama that it frequently forgot how the preceding season was able to strike a balance between the two.  I don’t fault the star for this—it was her sitcom and she was certainly entitled to take it in whatever direction she chose…but it sort of became apparent in revisiting it why I gradually drifted away (save for the occasional Halloween episodes, which became one of the show’s hallmarks).  The creative minds behind the series fashioned a pair of brother boyfriends for Roseanne’s daughters (one of them introduced in Season 3, the younger the following season) that soon became my least favorite characters on the show—I understand why they went in this direction; they were drawing a parallel between how Roseanne dated a guy her parents felt wasn’t right for her and how both Becky and Darlene were going to fall into the same trap.  But there was a marked difference between the Healy brothers (played by Glenn Quinn [Mark] and Johnny Galecki [David—though in his first episode he’s referred to as “Kevin”]) and Dan Conner.  Dan was funny.

In fact, watching John Goodman’s antics on Roseanne is one of the reasons why I’ve never completely abandoned the series; I thought his Dan Conner character was one of the show’s real joys—a father who acted like a fourth kid (something the critics kind of chided the series about) but stepped up to the plate when responsible parenting had to be done, and didn’t always make the right decisions (he’s one of the most fallibly human fathers in boob tube history).  Goodman had a first-rate chemistry with his leading lady, and his dry, throwaway delivery of many of his lines never failed to convulse me.  Laurie Metcalf, who played the part of Roseanne’s long-suffering sister Jackie, was the other reason why I liked the show.  In so many ways, Jackie functioned as the sanest member of the family; a funny, intelligent woman whose low self-esteem issues were borrowed from the most unlikely of sources: classic television deputy Barney Fife.  (Roseanne reminisces in the Season 4 DVD interview that they were inspired to make Jackie more Barney-like, even to the point where actress Metcalf would often lunch with Don Knotts and pepper him with inquiries on how to “Barney-ize” her character.)  If you don’t believe me, check out the Season 4 Christmas episode “Santa Claus” for Metcalf’s first-rate imitation of the Fife character (“Any deviation from this procedure will result in loss of candy cane…”)

A Lucy and Ethel for the 90's: Laurie Metcalf and Roseanne in a riotous Christmas episode where they play a department store Santa and Mrs. Claus.

The source of some of my issues with the Roseanne series is that they always seemed to replace the characters I was fond of with characters I didn’t even want to be friends with in real life.  I genuinely liked Roseanne’s pal Crystal but they started to phase her out by the end of the fourth season (after marrying her to Dan’s father, played by Ned Beatty, in Season 3) and she only made a handful of appearances after that.  On the bright side, the annoying personage of Arnie Thomas (played by Roseanne’s one-time real-life spouse Tom Arnold…whose career in show business is the strongest argument I know of that it’s possible to sell one’s soul to Satan) would soon disappear by the end of Season 4 (he turned up in an additional installment the following season and then thankfully never came back) but he unfortunately left Mrs. Thomas behind—his wife Nancy, played by Sandra Bernhard (always an acquired taste).  Some of the series’ main characters also underwent personality changes, and not for the better; daughter Darlene, whom I always enjoyed because she gave her TV mom as good as she got, morphed into a sullen, mopey teenager (inspired by Roseanne’s real-life daughter descent into gothdom) and threatened to turn the show into a half-hour My So-Called Whine Life.

Legendary rock 'n' rollers Bonnie (Bramlett) Sheridan and David Crosby played lovers on the show and get to sing in this beautiful musical moment from "The Bowling Show."
But I still enjoy watching Roseanne, despite the star’s forays into real-life wacky—I remember that Duchess and I were watching a fifth season episode with a mutual friend of ours and upon seeing Roseanne’s extensive plastic surgery cracked “Well, no wonder her husband’s business is in the toilet—there’s where the money went!”  (Again, what Roseanne did with the money from her show was her own business but I found it wryly ironic that she chose to make herself over despite years of promoting an image that likeability and personal appearance shouldn’t be considered one and the same.)  My mother is also a fan of the show, and during my convalescence back in March 2010 she’d often tune in when I was taking a nap.  When I told her that I had obtained review copies of the Season 3 and 4 box sets she sort of rolled her eyes, prompting me to ask “I thought this was one of your favorites?”

One of my favorite Season 4 episodes, "The Commercial Show."  The Conners are picked to be in a commercial for Rodbell's, and at the last minute the director (Rick Dees) substitutes Jackie for Roseanne.
“It is when there’s nothing else on,” she replied.  (She later amended that she really did like the show…but felt uncomfortable admitting as such to me because she didn’t want to seem “uncool,” as if this would have been the first time I noticed.)

All nine seasons of Roseanne were released to DVD by the now-defunct Anchor Bay Entertainment between 2005 and 2009…and because these editions are OOP, Mill Creek Entertainment has begun re-releasing the sets (the first two seasons back in September 2011, seasons 3 and 4 this past April 3) after acquiring the rights from Carsey-Werner Productions.  The upside to this is that the first season Anchor Bay release featured the edited-for-syndication shows…the Mill Creek version does not.  Season 3 features interviews with Laurie Metcalf and Lecy Goranson, while the fourth season set is a little more generous with the extras, spotlighting interviews with Goranson, Michael Fishman and Roseanne herownself.  (Roseanne also does commentary on two of the episodes, the Halloween and Thanksgiving-themed escapades, and it’s interesting stuff because she offers up her own interpretation of the show while having frequent difficulties remembering the names of people she worked with, something I found kind of humorous.)

The Mill Creek releases are also being offered at a nice price at TVFlashbacks.com—and if you mosey over to this page, you can also use a 25% discount code to pick them up cheaper (but you need to act fast, cartooners—the deal expires on May 15th).  Of course, if you’re in a gambling mood (and want to avoid the agony of the Roseanne two-parter from Season 4, where Roseanne and Dan accompany Arnie and Nancy to Vegas) I have copies of Seasons 3 and 4 to hand out to some lucky member of the TDOY faithful.  Here’s how it works: just send me an e-mail at igsjrotr(at)gmail(dot)com with “Roseanne Giveaway” in the subject header before 11:59 EDT next Sunday (May 6) and the following Monday morning I’ll pick two winners via Random.org and get those prizes out to them posthaste.  (The first name that’s drawn gets Season 3, the second Season 4.)  These prizes (as well as the review copies) were generously provided to me by TV Flashbacks rep Barbara Pflaughhaupt…so the winners will be required to write her a thank-you note without making fun of her last name.  (Okay, I am kidding about that last part.)  So be sure to drop me an e-mail for your chance to win!