Here’s why I love minor league baseball. Friday night the Newark Bears hosted a Britney Spears Baby Safety Night to spread the message of keeping babies safe while in cars. Remember, Mensa member, Britney was recently photographed driving with her baby on her lap? And then she was spotted putting her baby in a car seat facing the wrong way.
Fans attending the game received info on baby car safety (a BIG attraction to baseball fans), and one lucky fan won a free car seat. Not a free car – a free car seat.
But here’s my favorite part – those who came dressed as a baby got in free. How hard-up do you have to be to see a free baseball game that you’d to go out in public in a diaper? Tickets, by the way, cost $9.00,
Thank God there was no big call that went against the Bears. The crying and tantrums in the crowd would have gotten really ugly. The umpire might’ve been pummeled with rattles and teething rings.
Go see a minor league game…and please, strap in your children.
Friday, August 04, 2006
What actors hate
As mentioned in this space before, writers need to remember that actors perform their material. And there are certain things actors hate. As a public service, when writing your script, here are some of those traps that will make for unhappy actors and by extension, an unhappy you.
Actors hate having to give exposition. It’s dry, it’s informational, it’s not fun. Unfortunately, SOMEONE has deliver the exposition. The trick is to spread it around, find ways to hide it, and make it entertaining. Necessary information woven into a joke is a great solution. Exposition itself is a great topic for a later post.
Actors don’t like just asking questions in a scene. They didn’t spend four years finding their “inner center”, “emotional truth triggers” and portraying ice cream cones just to ask questions. But sometimes there is a great temptation to do that. Actor “A” knows all this information, Actor “B” needs to know it. In real life, it’s a simple conversation of Q&A. Not in actor-life. Massage the scene so that Actor “B” has some jokes or comments, or Actor “A” shares information without being prompted.
Similarly, actors don’t like just doing set-ups for other actors’ jokes. Bud Abbott is dead. Spread around the wealth. The tough thing here is knowing Actor “A” is funny and Actor “B” is a lox. Still, you have to throw him a bone or two. Or work in some jokes in the set ups themselves. Or re-cast.
Here’s a common rookie mistake: Having an actor in a scene and not giving him a line for a page or two…or four. If he’s in the scene he needs to have a purpose and needs to be a participant. If he has no purpose, find a way to get his ass out of there. You’d think actors want as much screen time as possible but they would MUCH rather be out of a scene than be a piece of furniture in it.
Here’s a biggie: parentheticals – those little bracketed indicators that suggest the intent of the line. Most actors are irritated, even offended by them. They feel it’s their job to discover the intent. And they like the freedom to interpret the lines as they choose. That’s fine to a point. I still use this device, albeit sparingly (same with underlining specific words I want stressed) because first and foremost I want my scene to be interpreted correctly. But like I said, I am very judicious. I never indicate (angry), (sad), or (jaundiced but insouciant).
That said, you’re probably writing your script to be READ not PERFORMED (actors hate capitol letters too.) So in the interest of having a reader better understand your script and maybe buying it, you can sprinkle in a few more parentheticals. (warning) But don’t go crazy.
Actors balk at thankless roles. The best friend, the harpy-wet blanket (see any ABC comedy wife except Rosanne), the “Ralph Bellamy” boring third guy in a triangle soon to be dumped (Ralph Bellamy played this role in HIS GIRL FRIDAY and 297 other movies), and any role played by Emily Mortimer. Find a way to make these characters interesting, complex, or maybe let Ralph Bellamy get the girl.
Long speeches: Actors like ‘em and hate ‘em. They like having a big juicy emotional speech and they hate having to memorize them. Forget that human beings don’t normally speak in long speeches, if you want to give a character a big speech, fine. Don’t give him six. And give him spots to breathe.
Actors protect their characters, as well they should. Writers sometimes have the tendency to sacrifice their characters’ integrity for the sake of a big joke. I gotta side with actors on this one. Once you’ve sacrificed a character you can’t go back. Find another joke.
And finally, most actors don’t want to be seen in an unflattering light. They may voice their objections in gobs of Byzantine actor-speech, but trust me, the real issue is they don’t want to look weak, or mean, or playing the girlfriend of the Elephant Man. They can have flaws but within reason. What you need to do here is either give the characters interesting shadings, multi-dimensions (not always weak, not always giving dogs caramels to eat) or make the parts so meaty that actors suddenly would kill to play them. Villains, in particular, can be delicious, despite how hateful and cruel they are. Is there a more fun character than J.R. Ewing? Or Simon Cowell? Or my favorite champagne villain, Alan Richman in DIE HARD?
By making a concerted effort to accommodate the actors’ needs (and most of these are just good general writing tips) you stand a much better chance that the actors will embrace your script and even add to it. Their wardrobe and make up issues? That’s someone else’s problem.
Actors hate having to give exposition. It’s dry, it’s informational, it’s not fun. Unfortunately, SOMEONE has deliver the exposition. The trick is to spread it around, find ways to hide it, and make it entertaining. Necessary information woven into a joke is a great solution. Exposition itself is a great topic for a later post.
Actors don’t like just asking questions in a scene. They didn’t spend four years finding their “inner center”, “emotional truth triggers” and portraying ice cream cones just to ask questions. But sometimes there is a great temptation to do that. Actor “A” knows all this information, Actor “B” needs to know it. In real life, it’s a simple conversation of Q&A. Not in actor-life. Massage the scene so that Actor “B” has some jokes or comments, or Actor “A” shares information without being prompted.
Similarly, actors don’t like just doing set-ups for other actors’ jokes. Bud Abbott is dead. Spread around the wealth. The tough thing here is knowing Actor “A” is funny and Actor “B” is a lox. Still, you have to throw him a bone or two. Or work in some jokes in the set ups themselves. Or re-cast.
Here’s a common rookie mistake: Having an actor in a scene and not giving him a line for a page or two…or four. If he’s in the scene he needs to have a purpose and needs to be a participant. If he has no purpose, find a way to get his ass out of there. You’d think actors want as much screen time as possible but they would MUCH rather be out of a scene than be a piece of furniture in it.
Here’s a biggie: parentheticals – those little bracketed indicators that suggest the intent of the line. Most actors are irritated, even offended by them. They feel it’s their job to discover the intent. And they like the freedom to interpret the lines as they choose. That’s fine to a point. I still use this device, albeit sparingly (same with underlining specific words I want stressed) because first and foremost I want my scene to be interpreted correctly. But like I said, I am very judicious. I never indicate (angry), (sad), or (jaundiced but insouciant).
That said, you’re probably writing your script to be READ not PERFORMED (actors hate capitol letters too.) So in the interest of having a reader better understand your script and maybe buying it, you can sprinkle in a few more parentheticals. (warning) But don’t go crazy.
Actors balk at thankless roles. The best friend, the harpy-wet blanket (see any ABC comedy wife except Rosanne), the “Ralph Bellamy” boring third guy in a triangle soon to be dumped (Ralph Bellamy played this role in HIS GIRL FRIDAY and 297 other movies), and any role played by Emily Mortimer. Find a way to make these characters interesting, complex, or maybe let Ralph Bellamy get the girl.
Long speeches: Actors like ‘em and hate ‘em. They like having a big juicy emotional speech and they hate having to memorize them. Forget that human beings don’t normally speak in long speeches, if you want to give a character a big speech, fine. Don’t give him six. And give him spots to breathe.
Actors protect their characters, as well they should. Writers sometimes have the tendency to sacrifice their characters’ integrity for the sake of a big joke. I gotta side with actors on this one. Once you’ve sacrificed a character you can’t go back. Find another joke.
And finally, most actors don’t want to be seen in an unflattering light. They may voice their objections in gobs of Byzantine actor-speech, but trust me, the real issue is they don’t want to look weak, or mean, or playing the girlfriend of the Elephant Man. They can have flaws but within reason. What you need to do here is either give the characters interesting shadings, multi-dimensions (not always weak, not always giving dogs caramels to eat) or make the parts so meaty that actors suddenly would kill to play them. Villains, in particular, can be delicious, despite how hateful and cruel they are. Is there a more fun character than J.R. Ewing? Or Simon Cowell? Or my favorite champagne villain, Alan Richman in DIE HARD?
By making a concerted effort to accommodate the actors’ needs (and most of these are just good general writing tips) you stand a much better chance that the actors will embrace your script and even add to it. Their wardrobe and make up issues? That’s someone else’s problem.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Make 'em laugh AND cry
Thanks for your great response to my unsold spec, SATISFACTION. If only any of you had money. But almost as good as seeing my movie on the screen is posting segments of it on a blog.
I love writing serious emotional scenes and still sneaking in comedy. Making an audience laugh when they don’t expect it is a hoot. I’m not always successful but love the challenge. The key is that the comedy comes out of the characters. People react to stress and heartache in different ways, often unexpected, unpredictable, and sometimes funny. Finding that balance between comedy and drama can be tricky but when it works it’s really worth the effort. Here’s an attempt to do that from this script.
Set in the world of Bakersfield radio -- where contests and promotions are king -- longtime local oldies DJ, Jimmy Lizard (Steve Martin), has just died. His closest friend and former colleague is Barry (Jason Alexander). Lizard’s boss was Sandy, someone way too young to be running an oldies station.
********
INT. BARRY'S APARTMENT – DAY
Barry drags in, dumps his suitcase, hits the button on his message machine as he goes to the fridge for a beer. A BEEP, THEN:
LIZARD
Barry? It's Lizard. Thanks again for coming up. Listen, if I should, y'know ..."go", I left an envelope for you. This is my dying wish. You'll know because it says right on the front "dying wish". It's a gift to my listeners, and it would mean a lot to me. I hate to place this burden on you but hey, I can't get Halle Berry on the phone. Anyway, I really appreciate it, and hopefully you'll never have to open it. Thanks.
Another BEEP, then:
RAY
Barry, call me the minute you get this.
(can hardly say the words)
It's Lizard.
Barry falls into a chair, knowing.
INT. HOSPITAL RECEPTION STATION - LATER THAT DAY
Barry signs for Lizard's envelope. He dreads having to open it. He finally does. He shakes his head. How is he going to pull this off?
INT. SANDY'S OFFICE – DAY
Sandy and Barry. Sandy clutches the letter.
SANDY
I can't do this.
BARRY
But it's his dying wish, man.
SANDY
I'm sorry, Barry, no.
BARRY
Why do you think people listen to this radio station? For the same twelve records they've heard a jillion times? Bullshit. They listen for the connection, to when their lives were young and exciting and it was all still out there ahead of 'em. That's what Jimmy provided, man. He was their connection. For 32 years. As long as you heard Jimmy's voice there were still "Big Kahuna Luaus", and "Drumathons", and endless summers, and "Daddy could never take the T- Bird away". But now it's gone. We've lost a helluva lot more than just some schmoe who played old records.
(beat)
To honor his memory... and all of ours -- this is what he wanted.
Sandy looks down at the letter. Barry knows he's got him.
EXT. BAKERSFIELD – DAY
VARIOUS BEAUTY SHOTS OF THE CITY AS THIS PLAYS ON THE AIR:
SANDY
All of us at 88/KBF were saddened today by the death of our longtime friend and colleague, Jimmy Lizard. He was a great broadcaster, a greater human being, and this station will never be the same now that he's gone.
(beat)
In accordance with his last request, Jimmy would like you, his listeners to attend his funeral tomorrow. He realized that there wouldn't be room for everyone so, again -- according to his wishes -- when you hear Gabriel's horn blow be the first caller on the Bossline and you'll score two passes to the service.
I love writing serious emotional scenes and still sneaking in comedy. Making an audience laugh when they don’t expect it is a hoot. I’m not always successful but love the challenge. The key is that the comedy comes out of the characters. People react to stress and heartache in different ways, often unexpected, unpredictable, and sometimes funny. Finding that balance between comedy and drama can be tricky but when it works it’s really worth the effort. Here’s an attempt to do that from this script.
Set in the world of Bakersfield radio -- where contests and promotions are king -- longtime local oldies DJ, Jimmy Lizard (Steve Martin), has just died. His closest friend and former colleague is Barry (Jason Alexander). Lizard’s boss was Sandy, someone way too young to be running an oldies station.
********
INT. BARRY'S APARTMENT – DAY
Barry drags in, dumps his suitcase, hits the button on his message machine as he goes to the fridge for a beer. A BEEP, THEN:
LIZARD
Barry? It's Lizard. Thanks again for coming up. Listen, if I should, y'know ..."go", I left an envelope for you. This is my dying wish. You'll know because it says right on the front "dying wish". It's a gift to my listeners, and it would mean a lot to me. I hate to place this burden on you but hey, I can't get Halle Berry on the phone. Anyway, I really appreciate it, and hopefully you'll never have to open it. Thanks.
Another BEEP, then:
RAY
Barry, call me the minute you get this.
(can hardly say the words)
It's Lizard.
Barry falls into a chair, knowing.
INT. HOSPITAL RECEPTION STATION - LATER THAT DAY
Barry signs for Lizard's envelope. He dreads having to open it. He finally does. He shakes his head. How is he going to pull this off?
INT. SANDY'S OFFICE – DAY
Sandy and Barry. Sandy clutches the letter.
SANDY
I can't do this.
BARRY
But it's his dying wish, man.
SANDY
I'm sorry, Barry, no.
BARRY
Why do you think people listen to this radio station? For the same twelve records they've heard a jillion times? Bullshit. They listen for the connection, to when their lives were young and exciting and it was all still out there ahead of 'em. That's what Jimmy provided, man. He was their connection. For 32 years. As long as you heard Jimmy's voice there were still "Big Kahuna Luaus", and "Drumathons", and endless summers, and "Daddy could never take the T- Bird away". But now it's gone. We've lost a helluva lot more than just some schmoe who played old records.
(beat)
To honor his memory... and all of ours -- this is what he wanted.
Sandy looks down at the letter. Barry knows he's got him.
EXT. BAKERSFIELD – DAY
VARIOUS BEAUTY SHOTS OF THE CITY AS THIS PLAYS ON THE AIR:
SANDY
All of us at 88/KBF were saddened today by the death of our longtime friend and colleague, Jimmy Lizard. He was a great broadcaster, a greater human being, and this station will never be the same now that he's gone.
(beat)
In accordance with his last request, Jimmy would like you, his listeners to attend his funeral tomorrow. He realized that there wouldn't be room for everyone so, again -- according to his wishes -- when you hear Gabriel's horn blow be the first caller on the Bossline and you'll score two passes to the service.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
How do you guys write?
I’ve been lucky enough to be in the same partnership for 33 years. Some time ago I got a letter from a young writer named Ken Levine saying, since we had the same name, could I give him any advice? I said, “Yes, find a partner named David Isaacs.”
Writing teams all work differently. Here’s how we work and it’s a tad unusual. A lot of teams will split up the script – one takes one scene or act and the other takes the other. Then they switch. We write head to head and we dictate the script to a secretary who takes great shorthand. We never actually see the script while we’re writing it. This forces us not to obsess over a line. It frees us to pitch out a whole run knowing we can just go back and clean it up. We can juggle beats, move things around more easily. This process also allows us to volley lines back and forth. When people ask if a particular joke was mine and I say I don’t remember I’m not being coy. We shape practically every line together.
It now takes us four or five days to write a half hour. Two or three if we have to. When we started it took two weeks. That’s where 33 years of experience comes in handy.
We work off of an outline, talk out what we’re going to do then just take a shot at it. Next day we see the typed version of what we wrote, proof it, blame the medication, and keep going. After the rough draft is finished we each take a copy, make notes, joke suggestions, cuts, etc. and reconvene for one more pass. Once that’s completed, more often than not we turn it in.
Do we have arguments? Sure. But we never let them get personal. And if we ever have a disagreement over a particular joke and can’t reach a consensus quickly we just toss it out and write something else. It takes less time to come up with a new line than to argue and have one of us ultimately pissed.
And you can't be defensive. The best idea wins even if its the other guy's.
We’re also not afraid to throw stuff out – a line, a run, a whole scene. And I mentioned last week, scripts can ALWAYS be trimmed.
Although the head to head process works well for us (which isn’t to say it works for everybody) early on in our career we began a practice whereby once a year we took an assignment and divided it up. The purpose was to feel confident that we could write on our own if we had to. We’re partners out of choice not dependency. And it’s amazing – we’ve been writing together so long that when we do split up a script I defy anyone to tell who wrote which act. They’re equally in need of major work.
There are many advantages to having a partner. The obvious ones you know. It’s more social, you have someone to share the burden/blame with, and it’s nice to get feedback (especially in comedy) – in our case not only from each other but our secretary, Lana. On more than one occasion we’ll laugh uproariously at a pitch, I’ll say to Lana, proudly, “Put that in” and she’ll say “Really???”
But here’s the biggest advantage to being in a team -- when you have to bring your car into the shop you know you can always get a ride.
A good partnership is like a marriage except you give up half your money before you get divorced.
Writing teams all work differently. Here’s how we work and it’s a tad unusual. A lot of teams will split up the script – one takes one scene or act and the other takes the other. Then they switch. We write head to head and we dictate the script to a secretary who takes great shorthand. We never actually see the script while we’re writing it. This forces us not to obsess over a line. It frees us to pitch out a whole run knowing we can just go back and clean it up. We can juggle beats, move things around more easily. This process also allows us to volley lines back and forth. When people ask if a particular joke was mine and I say I don’t remember I’m not being coy. We shape practically every line together.
It now takes us four or five days to write a half hour. Two or three if we have to. When we started it took two weeks. That’s where 33 years of experience comes in handy.
We work off of an outline, talk out what we’re going to do then just take a shot at it. Next day we see the typed version of what we wrote, proof it, blame the medication, and keep going. After the rough draft is finished we each take a copy, make notes, joke suggestions, cuts, etc. and reconvene for one more pass. Once that’s completed, more often than not we turn it in.
Do we have arguments? Sure. But we never let them get personal. And if we ever have a disagreement over a particular joke and can’t reach a consensus quickly we just toss it out and write something else. It takes less time to come up with a new line than to argue and have one of us ultimately pissed.
And you can't be defensive. The best idea wins even if its the other guy's.
We’re also not afraid to throw stuff out – a line, a run, a whole scene. And I mentioned last week, scripts can ALWAYS be trimmed.
Although the head to head process works well for us (which isn’t to say it works for everybody) early on in our career we began a practice whereby once a year we took an assignment and divided it up. The purpose was to feel confident that we could write on our own if we had to. We’re partners out of choice not dependency. And it’s amazing – we’ve been writing together so long that when we do split up a script I defy anyone to tell who wrote which act. They’re equally in need of major work.
There are many advantages to having a partner. The obvious ones you know. It’s more social, you have someone to share the burden/blame with, and it’s nice to get feedback (especially in comedy) – in our case not only from each other but our secretary, Lana. On more than one occasion we’ll laugh uproariously at a pitch, I’ll say to Lana, proudly, “Put that in” and she’ll say “Really???”
But here’s the biggest advantage to being in a team -- when you have to bring your car into the shop you know you can always get a ride.
A good partnership is like a marriage except you give up half your money before you get divorced.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Louie Louie
Thanks to Dan and Steve, the Pawtucket Red Sox radio crew for inviting back to do a couple of guest innings Monday night, despite the fact that I was even more horseshit on the air than my appearance Saturday night.
But the experience has made me nostalgic for the three years I broadcast in the minors for Syracuse and Tidewater. So many characters but none more outrageous than the announcer for Louisville (who was replaced by a guy named Joe Buck). This guy, we’ll call him “Louie” had a big booming voice and a style that only can be described as carnival barker. Having crossed into middle age, Louie was still a big skirt chaser, although in those days he generally wound up getting girls in big skirts.
One day Louisville is in Des Moines. He meets some woman at the hotel and they arrange to rendezvous in the lobby at 11 PM after that night’s game.
Unfortunately, the game drags on.
The visiting broadcast booth is right next to the main area of the press box with an open window between the two. Reporters can easily hear the visiting broadcasters.
It’s 10:40. Going into the 8th. The game has at least a half hour to go, then there’s wrapping up the broadcast, shutting down the equipment, and getting back to the hotel. No way will Louie make his 11:00 tryst.
As the two teams are changing sides and the pitcher is making his warm up tosses, the reporters start to hear play-by-play coming from Louie’s booth.
“Bottom of the 8th, Jones up, swings at the first pitch. Fly ball to right. Krellman makes the catch. One out. Next up is Smith. He swings at the first pitch and hits a grounder the first. Two quick outs…” etc.
Louis begins MAKING UP the play-by-play. Sure enough, “his” game is over in ten speedy minutes and he’s out the door. Louie belongs in the “Chutzpah Hall of Fame” for that one stunt alone.
But there were many others. Among them: getting thrown out of a game by an umpire for ragging on him from the press box, getting thrown out of an NBA game and costing his team a technical foul when he did same thing during his brief tenure as the San Antonio Spurs announcer, getting fired from the Minnesota Twins for illegally promoting a drag strip nightly on the broadcast he had ties with, getting canned from a Cleveland sportstalk station for accusing a team of “Jewing down” a player’s agent, and last I heard he was doing TV weather in a small Midwestern town and was arrested for fondling some woman’s breast in a carwash.
As a writer, if you were to put Louie in a script your producer would throw it right back in your face saying he was waaaaay too implausible. And he’d be right…except in minor league baseball. Guys like Louie made all the nine hour bus rides, make up doubleheaders, and dinners at Shoneys worth it.
But the experience has made me nostalgic for the three years I broadcast in the minors for Syracuse and Tidewater. So many characters but none more outrageous than the announcer for Louisville (who was replaced by a guy named Joe Buck). This guy, we’ll call him “Louie” had a big booming voice and a style that only can be described as carnival barker. Having crossed into middle age, Louie was still a big skirt chaser, although in those days he generally wound up getting girls in big skirts.
One day Louisville is in Des Moines. He meets some woman at the hotel and they arrange to rendezvous in the lobby at 11 PM after that night’s game.
Unfortunately, the game drags on.
The visiting broadcast booth is right next to the main area of the press box with an open window between the two. Reporters can easily hear the visiting broadcasters.
It’s 10:40. Going into the 8th. The game has at least a half hour to go, then there’s wrapping up the broadcast, shutting down the equipment, and getting back to the hotel. No way will Louie make his 11:00 tryst.
As the two teams are changing sides and the pitcher is making his warm up tosses, the reporters start to hear play-by-play coming from Louie’s booth.
“Bottom of the 8th, Jones up, swings at the first pitch. Fly ball to right. Krellman makes the catch. One out. Next up is Smith. He swings at the first pitch and hits a grounder the first. Two quick outs…” etc.
Louis begins MAKING UP the play-by-play. Sure enough, “his” game is over in ten speedy minutes and he’s out the door. Louie belongs in the “Chutzpah Hall of Fame” for that one stunt alone.
But there were many others. Among them: getting thrown out of a game by an umpire for ragging on him from the press box, getting thrown out of an NBA game and costing his team a technical foul when he did same thing during his brief tenure as the San Antonio Spurs announcer, getting fired from the Minnesota Twins for illegally promoting a drag strip nightly on the broadcast he had ties with, getting canned from a Cleveland sportstalk station for accusing a team of “Jewing down” a player’s agent, and last I heard he was doing TV weather in a small Midwestern town and was arrested for fondling some woman’s breast in a carwash.
As a writer, if you were to put Louie in a script your producer would throw it right back in your face saying he was waaaaay too implausible. And he’d be right…except in minor league baseball. Guys like Louie made all the nine hour bus rides, make up doubleheaders, and dinners at Shoneys worth it.
Can't get no...
This is one of those “please indulge me” posts.
Like most scriptwriters, I’ve got a drawer full of unproduced screenplays. But now I also have a blog. So if I can’t sell these scripts I can at least occasionally share some of my favorite scenes. Here’s one from a movie I originally wrote in the late 90’s, and have been rewriting ever since. It’s a bittersweet comedy called SATISFACTION and it’s set in the exotic world of Bakersfield radio. (I know what you’re thinking – with that topic and locale how could it NOT sell??? I wonder the same thing.)
Here’s the set up: Barry (picture Jason Alexander) and Jimmy Lizard (picture Steve Martin) were DJ’s together in Bakersfield 25 years ago. Barry left town and the industry and finds himself aimless and depressed. Lizard remained a jock in Bakersfield, playing the same goddamn ten oldies all these years but has a much better attitude about the world…even though he’s now in the hospital battling Leukemia. Barry comes to visit and they have a heart-to-heart.
******
LIZARD
Y'know, Barry, you lie in bed all day facing your own mortality and listening to oldies, and you start to do a lot of thinking. Stuff you never even worried about before. The existence of God, the meaning of life, that sort of crap. And hopefully you come to some conclusion, something that gives your world a little order. And I'm happy to say I have reached just such a conclusion.
BARRY
Yeah....?
LIZARD
We all spend most of our lives doing stupid shit.
BARRY
(after a long beat)
That's it?
LIZARD
That's it.
BARRY
So what's the point?
LIZARD
There's no point. It's just a conclusion. If you take the time we use to do something productive versus the time we spend chasing some girl who doesn't exist or watching "the Amazing Race" the ratio is probably 10-1 Race. Why we're programmed like that? I don't know. I was kinda hopin' being on my deathbed would make me smarter.
BARRY
C'mon, man, you're not on your deathbed.
LIZARD
Yeah, I know. Just trying to evoke a little sympathy. When I really do go I want it to be at home. On my death futon.
BARRY
So the point here is to do more with your life. Cut down on the stupid shit.
LIZARD
No, that's not it. Because the stupid shit seems to account for all the fun in life.
(beat)
But you want a point? Here's a point. Do what makes you happy. I've used my one precious existence to be a fucking disc jockey in Bakerspatch for 32 years, and you know what? I've had a blast. I'm never going to achieve great deeds, or leave a lasting legacy, or even bang those few select women I've always longed for, but Christ, how many of us do? The odds gotta be worse than Leukemia. So you might as well dig on the stupid shit.
BARRY
(with a smile and nod)
Okay. That's good. Real good.
LIZARD
Maybe the most important words ever written are on that billboard outside of town. "Sun, fun, stay, play".
BARRY
Deep.
They sit quietly for a beat. Then:
BARRY
So who are they?
LIZARD
Who?
BARRY
Those select women you want to nail.
LIZARD
Well, that's a little personal, but...
Lizard lies back and smiles, almost picturing them.
LIZARD
Cameron Diaz and Halle Berry.
BARRY
Alright! Two of the very best.
LIZARD
Catherine Zeta-Jones...
BARRY
There's more?
LIZARD
Ann Coulter, Jennifer Garner, Linda in accounting...
BARRY
Linda in accounting?
LIZARD
Bob Harlow's wife, Bonnie Bernstein from CBS sports, Cousin Ruth, both Gilmore Girls...
BARRY
Okay, I think I got it.
LIZARD
Ellen DeGeneres just to see if I can, Sister Mary from church...
And Lizard continues what is sure to be a long long list.
Like most scriptwriters, I’ve got a drawer full of unproduced screenplays. But now I also have a blog. So if I can’t sell these scripts I can at least occasionally share some of my favorite scenes. Here’s one from a movie I originally wrote in the late 90’s, and have been rewriting ever since. It’s a bittersweet comedy called SATISFACTION and it’s set in the exotic world of Bakersfield radio. (I know what you’re thinking – with that topic and locale how could it NOT sell??? I wonder the same thing.)
Here’s the set up: Barry (picture Jason Alexander) and Jimmy Lizard (picture Steve Martin) were DJ’s together in Bakersfield 25 years ago. Barry left town and the industry and finds himself aimless and depressed. Lizard remained a jock in Bakersfield, playing the same goddamn ten oldies all these years but has a much better attitude about the world…even though he’s now in the hospital battling Leukemia. Barry comes to visit and they have a heart-to-heart.
******
LIZARD
Y'know, Barry, you lie in bed all day facing your own mortality and listening to oldies, and you start to do a lot of thinking. Stuff you never even worried about before. The existence of God, the meaning of life, that sort of crap. And hopefully you come to some conclusion, something that gives your world a little order. And I'm happy to say I have reached just such a conclusion.
BARRY
Yeah....?
LIZARD
We all spend most of our lives doing stupid shit.
BARRY
(after a long beat)
That's it?
LIZARD
That's it.
BARRY
So what's the point?
LIZARD
There's no point. It's just a conclusion. If you take the time we use to do something productive versus the time we spend chasing some girl who doesn't exist or watching "the Amazing Race" the ratio is probably 10-1 Race. Why we're programmed like that? I don't know. I was kinda hopin' being on my deathbed would make me smarter.
BARRY
C'mon, man, you're not on your deathbed.
LIZARD
Yeah, I know. Just trying to evoke a little sympathy. When I really do go I want it to be at home. On my death futon.
BARRY
So the point here is to do more with your life. Cut down on the stupid shit.
LIZARD
No, that's not it. Because the stupid shit seems to account for all the fun in life.
(beat)
But you want a point? Here's a point. Do what makes you happy. I've used my one precious existence to be a fucking disc jockey in Bakerspatch for 32 years, and you know what? I've had a blast. I'm never going to achieve great deeds, or leave a lasting legacy, or even bang those few select women I've always longed for, but Christ, how many of us do? The odds gotta be worse than Leukemia. So you might as well dig on the stupid shit.
BARRY
(with a smile and nod)
Okay. That's good. Real good.
LIZARD
Maybe the most important words ever written are on that billboard outside of town. "Sun, fun, stay, play".
BARRY
Deep.
They sit quietly for a beat. Then:
BARRY
So who are they?
LIZARD
Who?
BARRY
Those select women you want to nail.
LIZARD
Well, that's a little personal, but...
Lizard lies back and smiles, almost picturing them.
LIZARD
Cameron Diaz and Halle Berry.
BARRY
Alright! Two of the very best.
LIZARD
Catherine Zeta-Jones...
BARRY
There's more?
LIZARD
Ann Coulter, Jennifer Garner, Linda in accounting...
BARRY
Linda in accounting?
LIZARD
Bob Harlow's wife, Bonnie Bernstein from CBS sports, Cousin Ruth, both Gilmore Girls...
BARRY
Okay, I think I got it.
LIZARD
Ellen DeGeneres just to see if I can, Sister Mary from church...
And Lizard continues what is sure to be a long long list.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Saturday night in Pawtucket
Spent the night in lovely Pawtucket, Rhode Island watching the AAA Pawsox do battle with the dreaded Buffalo Bisons. Arrived back home in East Haddam, Ct. just in time for the power to go back on – 30 hours after it had gone off.
The Pawtucket announcer is Dan Hoard, who was my partner when I broadcast for Syracuse in 1988. (Quick trivia note: when David Isaacs and I wrote the episode of THE SIMPSONS where Homer becomes a minor league mascot, I played the voice of the team announcer and gave him the name Dan Hoard.)
Dan and his current partner, Steve Hyder, graciously invited me to sit in and do some play-by-play. Proud to say that even though I hadn’t announced an inning in well over a year I was still in mid-season minor league form. I screwed up a home run call and a strike out.
There’s nothing like minor league baseball and being back at McCoy Stadium. As an added touch of class, after the game they invited Boy and Girl Scout troops to pitch tents in the outfield and camp out all night while on the Diamondvision Board they showed THE ROOKIE. The whole experience made me nostalgic for my days in the bushes and some of the characters I encountered. Over the next few weeks I’ll be sharing some of these tales.
One of my favorites was on a Syracuse Chiefs broadcast the year after I had left to call games for rival Tidewater. The Chiefs were in Omaha playing the Royals. My replacement was on the air. He had this habit of looking down at his statistics and occasionally missing things. A batter, Nick Capra just got hit by a pitch. This announcer looked down at his stats to give some arcane statistic. When he looked back up at the field this is what he said, “Ohmygod! There’s a CRAZED MADMAN running out onto the field!!! No, wait. It’s the Omaha trainer.”
I don’t feel so bad about my blown home run call. If nothing else, it gave me a chance to plug the title of my book – “It’s Gone!…No, Wait a Minute.”
The Pawtucket announcer is Dan Hoard, who was my partner when I broadcast for Syracuse in 1988. (Quick trivia note: when David Isaacs and I wrote the episode of THE SIMPSONS where Homer becomes a minor league mascot, I played the voice of the team announcer and gave him the name Dan Hoard.)
Dan and his current partner, Steve Hyder, graciously invited me to sit in and do some play-by-play. Proud to say that even though I hadn’t announced an inning in well over a year I was still in mid-season minor league form. I screwed up a home run call and a strike out.
There’s nothing like minor league baseball and being back at McCoy Stadium. As an added touch of class, after the game they invited Boy and Girl Scout troops to pitch tents in the outfield and camp out all night while on the Diamondvision Board they showed THE ROOKIE. The whole experience made me nostalgic for my days in the bushes and some of the characters I encountered. Over the next few weeks I’ll be sharing some of these tales.
One of my favorites was on a Syracuse Chiefs broadcast the year after I had left to call games for rival Tidewater. The Chiefs were in Omaha playing the Royals. My replacement was on the air. He had this habit of looking down at his statistics and occasionally missing things. A batter, Nick Capra just got hit by a pitch. This announcer looked down at his stats to give some arcane statistic. When he looked back up at the field this is what he said, “Ohmygod! There’s a CRAZED MADMAN running out onto the field!!! No, wait. It’s the Omaha trainer.”
I don’t feel so bad about my blown home run call. If nothing else, it gave me a chance to plug the title of my book – “It’s Gone!…No, Wait a Minute.”
the power is out
We had a thunderstorm yesterday at 4:30 and power went out. It's still out. So no post today but what a wonderful chance to browse through my archives. Hopefully, if I can get the hamster hooked up there'll be a post tomorrow.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Overwriting and why it's bad to write more than you need to make the same point
When reading a spec, one of the most common traps I see young writers falling into is overwriting. “Marshall’s Brother” (see yesterday’s post) may be rotten it’s economical. (I’m proud to say it’s well crafted shit.)
When I receive a spec the first thing I always do is check its length. If I get a hernia lifting it, that’s not good. A comedy screenplay should be no more than 120 pages and that’s stretching it. Sitcoms vary depending on the rhythm and format of the show. But if you write a spec EARL and it’s 50 pages, I can tell you sight unseen it’s waaaay too long. WINGS scripts (multi-camera) generally topped out in the low 40’s. When I was consulting on the show we had a writer who routinely turned in 65 page drafts. His rationale was that he gave us choices. We could whittle it down to the best 42 pages. Fine and dandy except THAT’S HIS JOB!!! If you can’t tell your story in the allotted time then maybe you’re not telling the story right. Or there’s too much story and that has to be addressed.
The only thing worse than a TV script of screenplay that’s overwritten is a stage play. Plays have no length requirement so the playwright has free reign to torture us long into next month. When a two character piece about what to pack for a vacation is longer than NICHOLAS NICKLEBY that should be a clue.
And then there’s the dialogue.
This may sound obvious but worth stating anyway: Always remember that actors have to perform your script.
Soooo many times I’ll see full page speeches with sentences so long and complicated that no human being on earth could ever deliver them. And certainly not in one breath. Read your script out loud. If you need CPR by the end of a speech, rethink. Dialogue has to sound natural, conversational. And rarely do we speak in big whoppin’ speeches.
When writing a TV spec, writers often go overboard on character quirks. They’ll hear Frasier utter something a little flowery and think that every word out of his mouth has to be Noel Coward. In fairness, shows themselves get caught up in that trap. On MASH the tendency to give every line a spin evolved into absurdity. In a later season (after I had left the series) Potter once said to Klinger, “It was curiosity that KO’d the feline.” WTF?? Who would ever say that? And why?
There is a tendency to want to impress by working in all kinds of complex themes and philosophies – show how you’re the next Paddy Chayefsky. In truth, it’s your inexperience not intellect that’s being put on display. If long intricate theories and complicated Byzantine ideas are your cup of tea, write a book.
More often than not these long speeches have characters express in detail their emotions and attitudes. Not only is it taxing to listen to this balloon juice it also gives the actor nothing to play. Might as well go on to the next scene. Sometimes a look or a gesture can say volumes more a two page speech that James Joyce would find too convoluted.
Whenever my partner, David and I go back to polish a draft we thin out the big speeches. If the speech is 14 lines we make it 11, if it’s 11 lines we make it 9. There are ALWAYS trims.
Same is true in stage direction. A reader sees a big block of stage direction I GUARANTEE he will not read it. You could describe a sex act in detail and he’ll flip the page.
As a rule it’s better to underwrite than overwrite. We have an expression. We like “open pages”. Much more white than type. This may sound obvious too but: You don’t get paid by the word.
Go back through your script. I bet you could lose two pages. (Probably page 8 and one other.)
When I receive a spec the first thing I always do is check its length. If I get a hernia lifting it, that’s not good. A comedy screenplay should be no more than 120 pages and that’s stretching it. Sitcoms vary depending on the rhythm and format of the show. But if you write a spec EARL and it’s 50 pages, I can tell you sight unseen it’s waaaay too long. WINGS scripts (multi-camera) generally topped out in the low 40’s. When I was consulting on the show we had a writer who routinely turned in 65 page drafts. His rationale was that he gave us choices. We could whittle it down to the best 42 pages. Fine and dandy except THAT’S HIS JOB!!! If you can’t tell your story in the allotted time then maybe you’re not telling the story right. Or there’s too much story and that has to be addressed.
The only thing worse than a TV script of screenplay that’s overwritten is a stage play. Plays have no length requirement so the playwright has free reign to torture us long into next month. When a two character piece about what to pack for a vacation is longer than NICHOLAS NICKLEBY that should be a clue.
And then there’s the dialogue.
This may sound obvious but worth stating anyway: Always remember that actors have to perform your script.
Soooo many times I’ll see full page speeches with sentences so long and complicated that no human being on earth could ever deliver them. And certainly not in one breath. Read your script out loud. If you need CPR by the end of a speech, rethink. Dialogue has to sound natural, conversational. And rarely do we speak in big whoppin’ speeches.
When writing a TV spec, writers often go overboard on character quirks. They’ll hear Frasier utter something a little flowery and think that every word out of his mouth has to be Noel Coward. In fairness, shows themselves get caught up in that trap. On MASH the tendency to give every line a spin evolved into absurdity. In a later season (after I had left the series) Potter once said to Klinger, “It was curiosity that KO’d the feline.” WTF?? Who would ever say that? And why?
There is a tendency to want to impress by working in all kinds of complex themes and philosophies – show how you’re the next Paddy Chayefsky. In truth, it’s your inexperience not intellect that’s being put on display. If long intricate theories and complicated Byzantine ideas are your cup of tea, write a book.
More often than not these long speeches have characters express in detail their emotions and attitudes. Not only is it taxing to listen to this balloon juice it also gives the actor nothing to play. Might as well go on to the next scene. Sometimes a look or a gesture can say volumes more a two page speech that James Joyce would find too convoluted.
Whenever my partner, David and I go back to polish a draft we thin out the big speeches. If the speech is 14 lines we make it 11, if it’s 11 lines we make it 9. There are ALWAYS trims.
Same is true in stage direction. A reader sees a big block of stage direction I GUARANTEE he will not read it. You could describe a sex act in detail and he’ll flip the page.
As a rule it’s better to underwrite than overwrite. We have an expression. We like “open pages”. Much more white than type. This may sound obvious too but: You don’t get paid by the word.
Go back through your script. I bet you could lose two pages. (Probably page 8 and one other.)
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
My worst script
In 1993 my writing partner, David Isaacs and I did a short run series for CBS called BIG WAVE DAVE’S starring Adam Arkin and David Morse. It ran that summer, got 19 shares, kept 100% of MURPHY BROWN’S audience and was cancelled. At the time CBS had starring vehicles in the wings for Peter Scolari, Bronson Pinchot, and the always hilarious Faye Dunaway so they didn’t need us.
We were given a production order of six with three back-up scripts. We assigned the first two back-ups to our staff and planned on writing the third ourselves. When the show was cancelled we put in to CBS to get paid for the additional scripts. They said fine, but we had to turn in the completed scripts. Gulp! That was fine for the first two scripts because the writers already had drafts. But all David and I had was a title, “Marshall’s Brother” (Arkin was Marshall).
We normally write scripts by dictating them to our assistant. (Lots of advantages to this rather weird method which I can discuss in a future post.) Having done this for so long we can usually write a half hour episode in three to five days. We called our assistant into the office and told her we were going to write a script before lunch. It was 11:30.
We had one ground rule. Anything pitched had to go into the script. There was no going back, not even to clean up a sentence. We came up with the idea that Marshall’s brother (Bill) had a hearing problem. Okay, we’re not proud of it, we know it’s not very PC, but this script was never to be produced, and we had a lunch reservation. A few weeks ago I shared some of our best scenes. Here’s one of our all-time worst.
BILL ENTERS.
MARSHALL
Hey, Bill.
BILL
What?
MARSHALL
I said hi.
BILL
Huh?
MARSHALL
Hi.
BILL
Can’t understand you.
MARSHALL
Hello!!!!
BILL
Oh. Hello to you. How you feeling?
MARSHALL
Fine.
BILL
Huh?
MARSHALL
I’m fine!!
BILL
Where’s Karen?
MARSHALL
In the back.
BILL
Huh?
MARSHALL
In the back.
BILL
In the sack?
MARSHALL
No. The back room.
BILL
Why is she sleeping so late?
MARSHALL
She’s not in bed.
BILL
She hurt her head?
*******
And so on for 42 of the most rotten pages in comedy writing history.
We finished the script in about 17 minutes, turned it in, got paid, but deep in my heart I know – one day, thousands of years from now, long after some global thermonuclear disaster, someone will discover this vault, open it, and the only thing left of my work, my one lasting legacy, will be the “Marshall’s Brother” episode of BIG WAVE DAVE’S.
I wish now we had taken our time and finished it in 23 minutes.
We were given a production order of six with three back-up scripts. We assigned the first two back-ups to our staff and planned on writing the third ourselves. When the show was cancelled we put in to CBS to get paid for the additional scripts. They said fine, but we had to turn in the completed scripts. Gulp! That was fine for the first two scripts because the writers already had drafts. But all David and I had was a title, “Marshall’s Brother” (Arkin was Marshall).
We normally write scripts by dictating them to our assistant. (Lots of advantages to this rather weird method which I can discuss in a future post.) Having done this for so long we can usually write a half hour episode in three to five days. We called our assistant into the office and told her we were going to write a script before lunch. It was 11:30.
We had one ground rule. Anything pitched had to go into the script. There was no going back, not even to clean up a sentence. We came up with the idea that Marshall’s brother (Bill) had a hearing problem. Okay, we’re not proud of it, we know it’s not very PC, but this script was never to be produced, and we had a lunch reservation. A few weeks ago I shared some of our best scenes. Here’s one of our all-time worst.
BILL ENTERS.
MARSHALL
Hey, Bill.
BILL
What?
MARSHALL
I said hi.
BILL
Huh?
MARSHALL
Hi.
BILL
Can’t understand you.
MARSHALL
Hello!!!!
BILL
Oh. Hello to you. How you feeling?
MARSHALL
Fine.
BILL
Huh?
MARSHALL
I’m fine!!
BILL
Where’s Karen?
MARSHALL
In the back.
BILL
Huh?
MARSHALL
In the back.
BILL
In the sack?
MARSHALL
No. The back room.
BILL
Why is she sleeping so late?
MARSHALL
She’s not in bed.
BILL
She hurt her head?
*******
And so on for 42 of the most rotten pages in comedy writing history.
We finished the script in about 17 minutes, turned it in, got paid, but deep in my heart I know – one day, thousands of years from now, long after some global thermonuclear disaster, someone will discover this vault, open it, and the only thing left of my work, my one lasting legacy, will be the “Marshall’s Brother” episode of BIG WAVE DAVE’S.
I wish now we had taken our time and finished it in 23 minutes.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Can the canned laughter
A reader, Rob, asked what I thought of the dreaded “laugh track”. The MASH DVD’s give you option to watch with or without. Which would be my recommendation?
Definitely: watch without the laugh track.
The only major disagreement the show ever had with CBS was over the laugh track. The “Eye” insisted upon it. I would always say, “where are all these people who are laughing at the chopper pad? Are they in bleachers just off camera? Are they under Hot Lips’ bed when she and Frank are having a private moment? Are they hiding in the still in the Swamp?”
The only concession the network made was that we could eliminate the laugh track during OR scenes. Great for us since as MASH fans all know, our big block comedy scenes were always during operating sessions.
Network thinking about laugh tracks is this: When you see a comedy movie in a theatre you are surrounded by people laughing. The laugh track helps recreate that communal experience when you’re sitting in your home alone. For fifty years networks have stuck by this theory despite not one shred of evidence to suggest it is valid.
Finally, now, networks are beginning to come around. Audiences have loudly stated they want new rhythms in sitcoms. They’ve also said they hate laugh tracks. And since some of the recent better comedies (like SCRUBS and the OFFICE) don’t use one and are embraced, networks are relaxing their yuck box choke hold.
Personally, I think a lot of credit should go to HBO. Their comedies (like SEX IN THE CITY) didn’t employ laugh tracks, and what do you know? Audiences were able to recognize that they were watching comedies all on their own. Networks tend not to be ahead of the curve.
For multi-camera shows there are actual live studio audiences laughing at the material. (On CHEERS we had to announce at the top of the show that we “were filmed in front of a live studio audience” because the public didn’t believe our laughs were real…although they were.)
The problem comes when you do multiple takes or pick-ups? How do you blend one performance with another? The answer is “sweetening”, adding a little laugh track to smooth out the transitions. The danger is to sweeten a little too much or embellish laughs that weren’t as big as the producers hoped.
And they’re not fooling anybody.
You know what’s funny and if a laugh track is orgasmic over a bad joke it’s not going to fool you into laughing yourself. Instead, it’s going to make you think the show is bogus. Laugh tracks are one of the reasons multi-camera shows are now an endangered species.
One final note: On CHEERS and FRASIER we used recorded laughs from our own shows. Not so with other series. A lot of the laughs you hear were recorded fifty years ago. Many of the people you hear laughing are now dead.
Talk about leaving a legacy. Grandma may now be a distant memory but she’s still with us, every week, laughing at Jim Belushi.
Definitely: watch without the laugh track.
The only major disagreement the show ever had with CBS was over the laugh track. The “Eye” insisted upon it. I would always say, “where are all these people who are laughing at the chopper pad? Are they in bleachers just off camera? Are they under Hot Lips’ bed when she and Frank are having a private moment? Are they hiding in the still in the Swamp?”
The only concession the network made was that we could eliminate the laugh track during OR scenes. Great for us since as MASH fans all know, our big block comedy scenes were always during operating sessions.
Network thinking about laugh tracks is this: When you see a comedy movie in a theatre you are surrounded by people laughing. The laugh track helps recreate that communal experience when you’re sitting in your home alone. For fifty years networks have stuck by this theory despite not one shred of evidence to suggest it is valid.
Finally, now, networks are beginning to come around. Audiences have loudly stated they want new rhythms in sitcoms. They’ve also said they hate laugh tracks. And since some of the recent better comedies (like SCRUBS and the OFFICE) don’t use one and are embraced, networks are relaxing their yuck box choke hold.
Personally, I think a lot of credit should go to HBO. Their comedies (like SEX IN THE CITY) didn’t employ laugh tracks, and what do you know? Audiences were able to recognize that they were watching comedies all on their own. Networks tend not to be ahead of the curve.
For multi-camera shows there are actual live studio audiences laughing at the material. (On CHEERS we had to announce at the top of the show that we “were filmed in front of a live studio audience” because the public didn’t believe our laughs were real…although they were.)
The problem comes when you do multiple takes or pick-ups? How do you blend one performance with another? The answer is “sweetening”, adding a little laugh track to smooth out the transitions. The danger is to sweeten a little too much or embellish laughs that weren’t as big as the producers hoped.
And they’re not fooling anybody.
You know what’s funny and if a laugh track is orgasmic over a bad joke it’s not going to fool you into laughing yourself. Instead, it’s going to make you think the show is bogus. Laugh tracks are one of the reasons multi-camera shows are now an endangered species.
One final note: On CHEERS and FRASIER we used recorded laughs from our own shows. Not so with other series. A lot of the laughs you hear were recorded fifty years ago. Many of the people you hear laughing are now dead.
Talk about leaving a legacy. Grandma may now be a distant memory but she’s still with us, every week, laughing at Jim Belushi.
What's on my desk?
A question for writers that has been circulating the blogosphere recently is “what’s on your desk?” Since I’m in Connecticut I will have to answer by memory.
My iMac desktop computer (the half egg shell model with the monitor on a Pixar type neck, that was so cool until the new model and now it’s passé).
Mouse on a UCLA mouse pad.
External Hard Drive (back up EVERYTHING, people).
Printer.
Froggy Gremlin childhood toy.
Bob Hope in Dodger uniform bobblehead. (which makes as much sense as Odalis Perez in a Dodger uniform.)
Cup o’ pens.
Fathers Day cards.
Family photos.
A Gary Larson FAR SIDE card showing the BEWITCHED writing staff brainstorming in the fourth season. Brilliant notions like: “What if Endora casts a spell on Darren?”
Allstate accident report I was supposed to fill out in 2003.
Plastic Bob’s Big Boy (I’m a Bob’s Big Boy fanatic and can never figure out why that checkered jumpsuit look didn’t catch on.)
Five old drafts of my musical, with practically every page dog eared.
XM radio program guide.
A hard bound copy of GREAT PRETENDERS: MY STRANGE LOVE AFFAIR WITH ‘50’s POP MUSIC by Karen Schoemer. (Fun reading. I recommend it.)
My SPORTS ILLUSTRATED 2006 swimsuit model desk calendar. I can’t wait for another Michelle Alves week.
A spec pilot from my rabbi.
A spindle of CD’s that includes albums from Frank Zappa and Joanie Sommers.
Dodger Stadium and Pauley Pavilion replica paperweights.
Lucite encased picture of me with AfterMASH writing staff (that includes Larry Gelbart).
Vintage typewriter from 1890 with the carriage return arm on the right side. Still easier to write on than using FINAL DRAFT.
93/KHJ Boss Radio mike flag.
Box of brads and paper clips.
My bobblehead collection which includes Harry Caray, Speedy Alka-Seltzer, and Jesus Christ.
Emmy consideration Linda Eder interviews horse lovers ANIMAL PLANET DVD.
And -- Oh God – I think there’s still a sandwich.
My iMac desktop computer (the half egg shell model with the monitor on a Pixar type neck, that was so cool until the new model and now it’s passé).
Mouse on a UCLA mouse pad.
External Hard Drive (back up EVERYTHING, people).
Printer.
Froggy Gremlin childhood toy.
Bob Hope in Dodger uniform bobblehead. (which makes as much sense as Odalis Perez in a Dodger uniform.)
Cup o’ pens.
Fathers Day cards.
Family photos.
A Gary Larson FAR SIDE card showing the BEWITCHED writing staff brainstorming in the fourth season. Brilliant notions like: “What if Endora casts a spell on Darren?”
Allstate accident report I was supposed to fill out in 2003.
Plastic Bob’s Big Boy (I’m a Bob’s Big Boy fanatic and can never figure out why that checkered jumpsuit look didn’t catch on.)
Five old drafts of my musical, with practically every page dog eared.
XM radio program guide.
A hard bound copy of GREAT PRETENDERS: MY STRANGE LOVE AFFAIR WITH ‘50’s POP MUSIC by Karen Schoemer. (Fun reading. I recommend it.)
My SPORTS ILLUSTRATED 2006 swimsuit model desk calendar. I can’t wait for another Michelle Alves week.
A spec pilot from my rabbi.
A spindle of CD’s that includes albums from Frank Zappa and Joanie Sommers.
Dodger Stadium and Pauley Pavilion replica paperweights.
Lucite encased picture of me with AfterMASH writing staff (that includes Larry Gelbart).
Vintage typewriter from 1890 with the carriage return arm on the right side. Still easier to write on than using FINAL DRAFT.
93/KHJ Boss Radio mike flag.
Box of brads and paper clips.
My bobblehead collection which includes Harry Caray, Speedy Alka-Seltzer, and Jesus Christ.
Emmy consideration Linda Eder interviews horse lovers ANIMAL PLANET DVD.
And -- Oh God – I think there’s still a sandwich.
Monday, July 24, 2006
CLERKS 2
NO SPOILER ALERT. You can read this review and still blissfully know nothing.
I loved the original CLERKS. CHASING AMY is one of my favorite movies of all time. And I don’t care what the critics say, I thought MALLRATS was a fun flick. Kevin Smith is “the man”. So I was so excited to see CLERKS 2 I braved getting lost and drove fifteen miles searching for some sticky floored Cineplex in Moodus or Old Lyme (actual home of Lyme Disease) or one of those Connecticut towns nearby.
I didn’t love it. And it’s been bugging me ever since.
There were a lot of funny runs, it built to a well structured block comedy scene, there were a few lovely character moments, even a pearl of vintage Kevin Smith twisted wisdom here and there. So why was I disappointed?
The raunchy humor? No, I laughed at a lot of that.
I think the ultimate answer is this: It’s one thing to see goofball foul mouthed sex crazed slackers at 18, but if they’re still doing that shit after 30 it’s just plain sad. They ARE losers. Yes, I know there are a gazillion of these townies in real life who are stuck in this predicament but it’s not fun to watch.
The same would be true of Romy & Michele. I adored ROMY & MICHELE’S HIGH SCHOOL REUNION but would you really want to see those girls acting like that at 40? (We’ll know first hand when the clock catches up with Jessica Simpson.) When ABC came to R&M writer/creator Robin Schiff to do a sequel she wisely chose to do a prequel instead.
Age appropriateness (if there is such a term) is a common problem in comedy, where laughs are so character specific. One reason why I think it was time for CHEERS to go was that Sam Malone’s adolescent tom catting was starting to get real icky. The Fonz in middle age would not be a pretty sight.
Some comic personas age well. Jack Benny’s miser character was timeless. But Bob Hope putting on a Beatles wig and chasing Ann Jillian around at 60 was pathetic. And if Woody Allen thinks that even for one nanosecond we buy that Tea Leoni could be his ex-wife then it’s time for the Woodman to move to that gated Leisure World community in West Palm Beach, Florida.
I still believe in Kevin Smith. His last few movies have missed the mark but there’s that potential for greatness. You see glimmers of it even in his duds (well, maybe not JERSEY GIRL, that was just plain awful). All I ask is that he learns from Dante and Randall and moves on himself.
I loved the original CLERKS. CHASING AMY is one of my favorite movies of all time. And I don’t care what the critics say, I thought MALLRATS was a fun flick. Kevin Smith is “the man”. So I was so excited to see CLERKS 2 I braved getting lost and drove fifteen miles searching for some sticky floored Cineplex in Moodus or Old Lyme (actual home of Lyme Disease) or one of those Connecticut towns nearby.
I didn’t love it. And it’s been bugging me ever since.
There were a lot of funny runs, it built to a well structured block comedy scene, there were a few lovely character moments, even a pearl of vintage Kevin Smith twisted wisdom here and there. So why was I disappointed?
The raunchy humor? No, I laughed at a lot of that.
I think the ultimate answer is this: It’s one thing to see goofball foul mouthed sex crazed slackers at 18, but if they’re still doing that shit after 30 it’s just plain sad. They ARE losers. Yes, I know there are a gazillion of these townies in real life who are stuck in this predicament but it’s not fun to watch.
The same would be true of Romy & Michele. I adored ROMY & MICHELE’S HIGH SCHOOL REUNION but would you really want to see those girls acting like that at 40? (We’ll know first hand when the clock catches up with Jessica Simpson.) When ABC came to R&M writer/creator Robin Schiff to do a sequel she wisely chose to do a prequel instead.
Age appropriateness (if there is such a term) is a common problem in comedy, where laughs are so character specific. One reason why I think it was time for CHEERS to go was that Sam Malone’s adolescent tom catting was starting to get real icky. The Fonz in middle age would not be a pretty sight.
Some comic personas age well. Jack Benny’s miser character was timeless. But Bob Hope putting on a Beatles wig and chasing Ann Jillian around at 60 was pathetic. And if Woody Allen thinks that even for one nanosecond we buy that Tea Leoni could be his ex-wife then it’s time for the Woodman to move to that gated Leisure World community in West Palm Beach, Florida.
I still believe in Kevin Smith. His last few movies have missed the mark but there’s that potential for greatness. You see glimmers of it even in his duds (well, maybe not JERSEY GIRL, that was just plain awful). All I ask is that he learns from Dante and Randall and moves on himself.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Please come to Boston
Still here in Connecticut turning the 60’s PROJECT into a masterpiece worthy of summer theatre. Near Boston, so for my weekend post, here’s a travelogue from 1 BWSC (Before World Series Championship).
*********
Just got back from visiting Matt in Boston. It looked like I had picked the perfect weekend. The Red Sox were five outs away from going to the World Series that was to begin at fabled Fenway on Saturday. The town was abuzz. Something to be proud of besides boasting a Dunkin Donuts on every corner. Unfortunately, Red Sox manager Grady Little left Pedro Martinez in the game too long and he gave up a bunch of hits and runs and well... it was Charlie Brown and Lucy holding the football for the hundredth straight sad sack Red Sox season. So no joy in Mudville. All New Englanders want to kill Grady Little. And considering the way they drive, this is not an idle threat.
The local newspapers were oh so kind and forgiving. One showed a picture of Little conferring with Pedro on the mound with the caption: "Jessica Simpson could manage this team better".
Even the gala annual "Head of the Charles" rowing competition did little to ease the pain. Hundreds of rowing crews compete down the Charles while seven people watch from the river banks. It's quite a spectacle. And now I know how Red Sox fans feel. My favorite team, Frankfurter Rudergesellschaft Germania got their butts kicked by the Garda Siochana Boat Club. I say check the oars for cork!!
A number of these teams were staying at my hotel. They weren't hard to spot. Men and women with Popeye arms. Many flew from great distances. But so what? These are the only people who actually feel there's enough legroom in coach.
Just before leaving for Boston I checked out their weather on the internet. Highs in the mid 70's, lows in the high 50's. I unpacked all my winter gear. The temperature didn't hit 50 once the entire weekend. I blame Grady Little! Everyone was all bundled up in heavy coats and parkas except for one schmuck in a "Becker" fleece.
It was great spending the weekend with Matt. He's a senior at Tufts this year and doing great. Stopped by the house he's sharing with three sloths. The good news is he got the front bedroom this year. The bad news is the local police department set up a portable radar speed check right in front of his house. So anytime a car passes by at night it's like he has a 24 second clock glowing in his window.
Friday night we were taken to dinner by my radio pal Dale Dorman and his new bride. Dale is doing mornings on the oldies station now. Imagine getting up every day at 4 so you can play "Pretty Woman" and "Rescue Me" for the nine gazillionth time? I say just record one show and play it back every day for the next five years. No one will know.
We went to Legal Seafood. I had a giant lobster. For dessert I wanted pound cake but all they had left were two-and-a-half and three pounds.
If you want to hear someone blurt out "What the fuck??!!" go to any newsstand in Boston and ask if they carry the Hollywood Reporter.
There ARE Dunkin Donut shops on every corner. Kinda like Phoenix with Radio Shacks.
Huge sign on the expressway near Fenway: "IS YOUR GUN LOADED? 1 OUT OF 5 PEOPLE IN MASSACHUSETTS HAVE AT LEAST 1 GUN." Yikes. Their cars aren't weapons enough? I'd hate to be Grady Little driving by that sign.
On Saturday our travels included the Quincy Market. There we ran across the new second Cheers bar. This one, they claim, is set up exactly like the one on TV. Maybe if you've never seen the show. The bar is square and two or three of the pictures on the back wall are the same. Otherwise, the bar on It's All Relative looks more like the real Cheers. A lifesize poster of Shelley Long beckons diners to stop by the gift shop before they leave. And there they can purchase Cheers ANYTHING. A can of "Norm Nuts". A water bottle for twelve bucks. T-shirts and sweatshirts galore. Cheers Bloody Mary mix. Cheers underwear. I asked if they had Sam Malone condoms and they didn't get the joke. Nor did they laugh when I inquired about Diane Chambers Xanex.
There are way more men than women who sport pony tails in Boston.
The only real bargain in town this weekend was those "Cowboy Up" Red Sox shirts.
Spotted at the Harvard Yard Pizzeria Uno -- a big banner that read: "Now Serving Breakfast" with two Samuel Adams logos on either side of it.
Late breaking news: the Drummoyne Rowing Company edged Ulmer RC Donau. A lot of money changed hands.
Travel tip: Sheratons have the best little hair conditioners. I must've pocketed seven of them. They looked great going through the X-Ray at the airport.
Blue Laws still exist in Massachusetts. Liquor stores are not open on Sunday....EXCEPT for one Sunday-- Superbowl Sunday (true story).
Thanks to Matt for showing me a great weekend. And to answer your next question -- no, his gun is not loaded.
*********
Just got back from visiting Matt in Boston. It looked like I had picked the perfect weekend. The Red Sox were five outs away from going to the World Series that was to begin at fabled Fenway on Saturday. The town was abuzz. Something to be proud of besides boasting a Dunkin Donuts on every corner. Unfortunately, Red Sox manager Grady Little left Pedro Martinez in the game too long and he gave up a bunch of hits and runs and well... it was Charlie Brown and Lucy holding the football for the hundredth straight sad sack Red Sox season. So no joy in Mudville. All New Englanders want to kill Grady Little. And considering the way they drive, this is not an idle threat.
The local newspapers were oh so kind and forgiving. One showed a picture of Little conferring with Pedro on the mound with the caption: "Jessica Simpson could manage this team better".
Even the gala annual "Head of the Charles" rowing competition did little to ease the pain. Hundreds of rowing crews compete down the Charles while seven people watch from the river banks. It's quite a spectacle. And now I know how Red Sox fans feel. My favorite team, Frankfurter Rudergesellschaft Germania got their butts kicked by the Garda Siochana Boat Club. I say check the oars for cork!!
A number of these teams were staying at my hotel. They weren't hard to spot. Men and women with Popeye arms. Many flew from great distances. But so what? These are the only people who actually feel there's enough legroom in coach.
Just before leaving for Boston I checked out their weather on the internet. Highs in the mid 70's, lows in the high 50's. I unpacked all my winter gear. The temperature didn't hit 50 once the entire weekend. I blame Grady Little! Everyone was all bundled up in heavy coats and parkas except for one schmuck in a "Becker" fleece.
It was great spending the weekend with Matt. He's a senior at Tufts this year and doing great. Stopped by the house he's sharing with three sloths. The good news is he got the front bedroom this year. The bad news is the local police department set up a portable radar speed check right in front of his house. So anytime a car passes by at night it's like he has a 24 second clock glowing in his window.
Friday night we were taken to dinner by my radio pal Dale Dorman and his new bride. Dale is doing mornings on the oldies station now. Imagine getting up every day at 4 so you can play "Pretty Woman" and "Rescue Me" for the nine gazillionth time? I say just record one show and play it back every day for the next five years. No one will know.
We went to Legal Seafood. I had a giant lobster. For dessert I wanted pound cake but all they had left were two-and-a-half and three pounds.
If you want to hear someone blurt out "What the fuck??!!" go to any newsstand in Boston and ask if they carry the Hollywood Reporter.
There ARE Dunkin Donut shops on every corner. Kinda like Phoenix with Radio Shacks.
Huge sign on the expressway near Fenway: "IS YOUR GUN LOADED? 1 OUT OF 5 PEOPLE IN MASSACHUSETTS HAVE AT LEAST 1 GUN." Yikes. Their cars aren't weapons enough? I'd hate to be Grady Little driving by that sign.
On Saturday our travels included the Quincy Market. There we ran across the new second Cheers bar. This one, they claim, is set up exactly like the one on TV. Maybe if you've never seen the show. The bar is square and two or three of the pictures on the back wall are the same. Otherwise, the bar on It's All Relative looks more like the real Cheers. A lifesize poster of Shelley Long beckons diners to stop by the gift shop before they leave. And there they can purchase Cheers ANYTHING. A can of "Norm Nuts". A water bottle for twelve bucks. T-shirts and sweatshirts galore. Cheers Bloody Mary mix. Cheers underwear. I asked if they had Sam Malone condoms and they didn't get the joke. Nor did they laugh when I inquired about Diane Chambers Xanex.
There are way more men than women who sport pony tails in Boston.
The only real bargain in town this weekend was those "Cowboy Up" Red Sox shirts.
Spotted at the Harvard Yard Pizzeria Uno -- a big banner that read: "Now Serving Breakfast" with two Samuel Adams logos on either side of it.
Late breaking news: the Drummoyne Rowing Company edged Ulmer RC Donau. A lot of money changed hands.
Travel tip: Sheratons have the best little hair conditioners. I must've pocketed seven of them. They looked great going through the X-Ray at the airport.
Blue Laws still exist in Massachusetts. Liquor stores are not open on Sunday....EXCEPT for one Sunday-- Superbowl Sunday (true story).
Thanks to Matt for showing me a great weekend. And to answer your next question -- no, his gun is not loaded.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
BIG BIG TRADE RUMOR!!!!
This is another blog experiment. Let’s see if it works. July 31st is the trading deadline in Major League Baseball. Rumors are swirling. Many are unfounded. Some have emanated from the internet and blogs. So let me add one just for fun and see if it spreads.
Here’s the trade: From a very “reliable” source (me).
The Astros will trade Roger Clemens to the Red Sox for Manny Ramirez (wth Boston assuming most of Manny’s salary).
Pass it on. Copy and paste. Get ye to a chat room. My goal is to see this on ESPN by Wednesday night.
Here’s the trade: From a very “reliable” source (me).
The Astros will trade Roger Clemens to the Red Sox for Manny Ramirez (wth Boston assuming most of Manny’s salary).
Pass it on. Copy and paste. Get ye to a chat room. My goal is to see this on ESPN by Wednesday night.
Friday, July 21, 2006
The kiss of death for Eddie LeBec
Had a question about Jay Thomas who played Eddie LeBec on CHEERS (okay, I’ve had it for awhile but am just now getting to it.) I first met Jay when he was a disc jockey on 99X in New York back in the 70’s. I occasionally would fly in and do fill-in shows. Even spent some time at his loft, which I remember being ridiculously expensive for what amounted to a walk-in closet with the world’s highest ceiling. No room and murder to heat. He eventually moved out to LA and was a very successful morning man on Power 106.
His first big acting break came on MORK & MINDY. He became a regular towards the end of that series’ run.
Quick aside: Years later Pam Dawber got her own sitcom, MY SISTER SAM and the joke was that CBS executives watched an episode of Robin Williams & Pam on MORK & MINDY and said, “Wow!! We gotta get the girl!”
David Isaacs and I wrote the two-parter on CHEERS that introduced the character of Eddie LeBec. Actually, it started as just a single episode but as the story expanded it became clear we needed more time to tell it.
We read a number of people for the role and I thought of Jay. Beyond that there was no favoritism. The other producers were mostly unfamiliar with his work. He came in and auditioned like everyone else and won the role.
He was terrific in the episodes, he and Rhea made a very cute couple and so he was brought back periodically as her boyfriend. It also gave us a story arc for Carla. Finally we decided to marry them.
A few episodes of recurring bliss and then one day on Jay’s radio show a caller asked him what it was like to be on CHEERS? He said something to the effect of “It’s brutal. I have to kiss Rhea Perlman.” Well, guess who happened to be listening.
Jay Thomas was never seen on CHEERS again. To explain his departure we decided to just kill him, which led to one of my favorite episodes that David and I wrote, “Death Takes a Holiday on Ice”. First off, we needed a funny demise. Eddie, by then, was working as a penguin in an ice show so we arrived at a Zamboni machine accident. (We were worried that we wouldn’t be able to use the name Zamboni but the company loved it.)
Then we needed (a) some comic spin for the story, and (b) something to discredit Eddie so the audience would ultimately be glad he was out of Carla’s life. The answer was at the funeral Carla learned that he was a polygamist, and had a second wife (who looked just like Carla). It was BIG LOVE going for big laughs. The episode earned us an Emmy nomination (and Emmy loss…I wonder if Jay Thomas was on the blue ribbon committee???)
One final note: We used an actor in one scene to bring in some news. He was on screen for maybe two minutes. As far as we know it was his first job. It was Thomas Hayden Church. Former CHEERS producers Casey, Lee, & Angell were impressed and cast him in the new series they were developing – WINGS. He since went on to snag an Oscar nomination for SIDEWAYS and is one of the villains in next year’s SPIDERMAN 3. I’m sure if he had won an Oscar, David and I would be the first two people he thanked. In fact, he should have run on stage and thanked us whether he won or not. Ingrate!!
Jay Thomas went on to star in LOVE AND WAR with the always hilarious Susan Dey and appeared in many TV episodes and movies. He’s now back on the radio, where hopefully he’s smart enough to not take anymore calls.
His first big acting break came on MORK & MINDY. He became a regular towards the end of that series’ run.
Quick aside: Years later Pam Dawber got her own sitcom, MY SISTER SAM and the joke was that CBS executives watched an episode of Robin Williams & Pam on MORK & MINDY and said, “Wow!! We gotta get the girl!”
David Isaacs and I wrote the two-parter on CHEERS that introduced the character of Eddie LeBec. Actually, it started as just a single episode but as the story expanded it became clear we needed more time to tell it.
We read a number of people for the role and I thought of Jay. Beyond that there was no favoritism. The other producers were mostly unfamiliar with his work. He came in and auditioned like everyone else and won the role.
He was terrific in the episodes, he and Rhea made a very cute couple and so he was brought back periodically as her boyfriend. It also gave us a story arc for Carla. Finally we decided to marry them.
A few episodes of recurring bliss and then one day on Jay’s radio show a caller asked him what it was like to be on CHEERS? He said something to the effect of “It’s brutal. I have to kiss Rhea Perlman.” Well, guess who happened to be listening.
Jay Thomas was never seen on CHEERS again. To explain his departure we decided to just kill him, which led to one of my favorite episodes that David and I wrote, “Death Takes a Holiday on Ice”. First off, we needed a funny demise. Eddie, by then, was working as a penguin in an ice show so we arrived at a Zamboni machine accident. (We were worried that we wouldn’t be able to use the name Zamboni but the company loved it.)
Then we needed (a) some comic spin for the story, and (b) something to discredit Eddie so the audience would ultimately be glad he was out of Carla’s life. The answer was at the funeral Carla learned that he was a polygamist, and had a second wife (who looked just like Carla). It was BIG LOVE going for big laughs. The episode earned us an Emmy nomination (and Emmy loss…I wonder if Jay Thomas was on the blue ribbon committee???)
One final note: We used an actor in one scene to bring in some news. He was on screen for maybe two minutes. As far as we know it was his first job. It was Thomas Hayden Church. Former CHEERS producers Casey, Lee, & Angell were impressed and cast him in the new series they were developing – WINGS. He since went on to snag an Oscar nomination for SIDEWAYS and is one of the villains in next year’s SPIDERMAN 3. I’m sure if he had won an Oscar, David and I would be the first two people he thanked. In fact, he should have run on stage and thanked us whether he won or not. Ingrate!!
Jay Thomas went on to star in LOVE AND WAR with the always hilarious Susan Dey and appeared in many TV episodes and movies. He’s now back on the radio, where hopefully he’s smart enough to not take anymore calls.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Hot town, summer in the city
It’s travelogue time again. Here’s last week’s New York portion of my east coast summer:
Summer travel is now officially an ordeal. Security checks at major airports are not only nightmares but I feel even less safe. If only, instead of that jerk hiding a knife in his shoe in Paris it was a woman who concealed a knife in her bra. Then we men could keep our shoes on and all women would have to take off their bras.
I’m in Manhattan twelve hours a brownstone blows up fifteen blocks from me. A disgruntled husband, a doctor from Translyvania, who was so angry having to give up the building to his wife in a divorce settlement that he blew it up. Hours before he left his ex a message that read “You will go from gold digger to rubbish digger…I always told you: ‘I will leave the house if I’m dead.’” New York’s finest is still looking for other suspects.
Headline in the NY DAILY NEWS: DR. DOOM!!!
Next day’s headline in the NY POST: “HONEY, I BLEW UP THE HOME!”
*******
Snatches of cellphone conversations overheard while walking the streets on the Upper East Side:
MAN: “I dunno, then give him Novacaine.”
SOMEWHAT DISTRAUGHT 30 YEAR OLD WOMAN: He peed on me! (I hope that was her dog or baby)
LITTLE MIDDLE AGED LADY: “Well, it’s not my concrete.”
WOMAN: “You don’t fuck the landlord. EVERYONE knows that!”
******
If you run out of mayonnaise I found the place to go – Gentiles Fine Food on Madison at 79th.
The theatre scene includes SLEEPING BEAUTY, TARZAN, and LION KING. I’m holding out for THE MIGHTY DUCKS: THE MUSICAL.
Stopped in at the Museum of Modern Art. This was new behavior: people taking cellphone snapshots of the paintings…and then moving on to another gallery…without stopping to even LOOK at the paintings. I guess the way to really appreciate Monet’s mural length Water Lilies is on a four inch screen.
I couldn’t walk a block without encountering scaffolding. And yet I never saw a single worker.
On Wednesday the weather was hot, muggy, stifling, and stagnant. People were going down into the subway for relief.
Pedestrians do not have the right of way. If you’re in the crosswalk when the light turns green you are pavement pizza.
The new Apple store across from what-once-was the Plaza Hotel is a marvel to behold. From the street all you see is an enormous stunning glass cube encasing the white Apple logo. The actual store (open 24 hours because when you have a craving for a new ipod you have to have it right NOW) is below ground and has become quite the singles pick-up scene. You can meet somebody, excuse yourself for a second, and quickly check him out on MySpace.
Saw SPRING AWAKENING, a powerful, very erotic, and disturbing look at puberty and sexuality. It goes without saying it was a musical. It’s set in 1890 Germany so naturally everyone ends up either dead or miserable.
In utter contrast, the next day I saw HAIRSPRAY, which dealt with the issue of winning a TV dance contest. One of our stars from the 60’s PROJECT, Andrew Rannells, was one of the leads. He was neat-o keen-o as was pop icon, Darlene Love. They’ve now had so many cast changes that they’re one move away from Mike Ditka playing the Harvey Firestein role.
New Broadway policy: ticket holders stand in a long line while their purses and bags are checked. In the case of MAMA MIA they’re not worried terrorists will plant a bomb. Their concern is that discriminating theatre goers will.
Upper West Side: Hookers -- $40.
Upper East Side: Tuna tartare appetizers -- $40.
At least that’s what it cost at Nellos on Madison Avenue. At that outrageous price they should throw in the hooker…and a ticket to HAIRSPRAY.
When you need a cab in Manhattan there are either a thousand of them available or none. Mostly none.
Best bargain and some of the best Italian food in NY: Ralph’s at 56th and 9th. As my friend Howard, who tipped me to it, said: “50’s atmosphere, 60’s portions, 70’s prices”. Molto bene and ring-a-ding-ding!
More NY POST: In a recent edition Christie Brinkley’s affair with a teenager was the top headline. The Israeli War got second billing.
Player endorsements is one thing, but during a recent Mets telecast on Channel 11, David Wright of the Amazins’, in uniform, was pitch man for a miracle worker revival show, the kind where people throw down their crutches and walk. If this guy is so good how come Pedro Martinez is still on the Disabled List?
I miss WCBS-FM. JERSEY BOYS wins the Tony for Best Musical yet not one New York radio station will play the Four Seasons.
On to the Goodspeed Theatre, hoping what they say isn’t true – that there’s a broken heart for every street lamp in Chester, Connecticut.
Summer travel is now officially an ordeal. Security checks at major airports are not only nightmares but I feel even less safe. If only, instead of that jerk hiding a knife in his shoe in Paris it was a woman who concealed a knife in her bra. Then we men could keep our shoes on and all women would have to take off their bras.
I’m in Manhattan twelve hours a brownstone blows up fifteen blocks from me. A disgruntled husband, a doctor from Translyvania, who was so angry having to give up the building to his wife in a divorce settlement that he blew it up. Hours before he left his ex a message that read “You will go from gold digger to rubbish digger…I always told you: ‘I will leave the house if I’m dead.’” New York’s finest is still looking for other suspects.
Headline in the NY DAILY NEWS: DR. DOOM!!!
Next day’s headline in the NY POST: “HONEY, I BLEW UP THE HOME!”
*******
Snatches of cellphone conversations overheard while walking the streets on the Upper East Side:
MAN: “I dunno, then give him Novacaine.”
SOMEWHAT DISTRAUGHT 30 YEAR OLD WOMAN: He peed on me! (I hope that was her dog or baby)
LITTLE MIDDLE AGED LADY: “Well, it’s not my concrete.”
WOMAN: “You don’t fuck the landlord. EVERYONE knows that!”
******
If you run out of mayonnaise I found the place to go – Gentiles Fine Food on Madison at 79th.
The theatre scene includes SLEEPING BEAUTY, TARZAN, and LION KING. I’m holding out for THE MIGHTY DUCKS: THE MUSICAL.
Stopped in at the Museum of Modern Art. This was new behavior: people taking cellphone snapshots of the paintings…and then moving on to another gallery…without stopping to even LOOK at the paintings. I guess the way to really appreciate Monet’s mural length Water Lilies is on a four inch screen.
I couldn’t walk a block without encountering scaffolding. And yet I never saw a single worker.
On Wednesday the weather was hot, muggy, stifling, and stagnant. People were going down into the subway for relief.
Pedestrians do not have the right of way. If you’re in the crosswalk when the light turns green you are pavement pizza.
The new Apple store across from what-once-was the Plaza Hotel is a marvel to behold. From the street all you see is an enormous stunning glass cube encasing the white Apple logo. The actual store (open 24 hours because when you have a craving for a new ipod you have to have it right NOW) is below ground and has become quite the singles pick-up scene. You can meet somebody, excuse yourself for a second, and quickly check him out on MySpace.
Saw SPRING AWAKENING, a powerful, very erotic, and disturbing look at puberty and sexuality. It goes without saying it was a musical. It’s set in 1890 Germany so naturally everyone ends up either dead or miserable.
In utter contrast, the next day I saw HAIRSPRAY, which dealt with the issue of winning a TV dance contest. One of our stars from the 60’s PROJECT, Andrew Rannells, was one of the leads. He was neat-o keen-o as was pop icon, Darlene Love. They’ve now had so many cast changes that they’re one move away from Mike Ditka playing the Harvey Firestein role.
New Broadway policy: ticket holders stand in a long line while their purses and bags are checked. In the case of MAMA MIA they’re not worried terrorists will plant a bomb. Their concern is that discriminating theatre goers will.
Upper West Side: Hookers -- $40.
Upper East Side: Tuna tartare appetizers -- $40.
At least that’s what it cost at Nellos on Madison Avenue. At that outrageous price they should throw in the hooker…and a ticket to HAIRSPRAY.
When you need a cab in Manhattan there are either a thousand of them available or none. Mostly none.
Best bargain and some of the best Italian food in NY: Ralph’s at 56th and 9th. As my friend Howard, who tipped me to it, said: “50’s atmosphere, 60’s portions, 70’s prices”. Molto bene and ring-a-ding-ding!
More NY POST: In a recent edition Christie Brinkley’s affair with a teenager was the top headline. The Israeli War got second billing.
Player endorsements is one thing, but during a recent Mets telecast on Channel 11, David Wright of the Amazins’, in uniform, was pitch man for a miracle worker revival show, the kind where people throw down their crutches and walk. If this guy is so good how come Pedro Martinez is still on the Disabled List?
I miss WCBS-FM. JERSEY BOYS wins the Tony for Best Musical yet not one New York radio station will play the Four Seasons.
On to the Goodspeed Theatre, hoping what they say isn’t true – that there’s a broken heart for every street lamp in Chester, Connecticut.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Celebrity blogs
Among the other 27,000,000 blogs I have to compete with are a number of “Celebrity” blogs. Of those, very few are actually written by the celebrities themselves, updated more than twice since the Pleistocene Era, or feature anything other than PR pap. There are exceptions. Kevin Smith’s blog is the real deal, wonderfully candid and funny. And a few like Dave Barry’s are worth your attention.
But William Shatner’s blog? Here are a few of his entries:
July 06 -- I’m thrilled to pieces about being nominated for the third time. (referring to his Emmy nomination)
June 30 – My new Priceline commercial is appearing on line before it appears on TV.
January 20 – As some of you may have heard by now, Goldenpalace.com has bought a kidney stone of mine for $75,000.
*******
Melanie Griffiths’s website is just plain creepy. It chronicles her romance and rehab, accompanied by music that Norma Desmond would find too over-the-top. She also writes letters to her inner self. Many not delivered because no one’s home.
Latest entry in Gwen Stefani’s journal: “We're back. Sorry it has been so long. We'll start updating the site more often.” It’s dated May 2.
From Pamela Anderson comes this: “I don't know if you all have heard.....if you've been watching the news you probably have.....but I'm a big supporter of PETA.”
If you go to Barbra Streisand’s blog it tells you how to order her latest TV special. In fairness, Bab’s website also has statement essays that are pompous enough to suggest they’re really from her. The picture on her home page pre-dates the creation of the internet.
Asia Carrere used to be a hot porn star. Here’s a recent entry in her journal: “The day started out so crappy but ended up okay. I took Cathy swimming at the lake, where we met a nice mommy with a son the same age as Cathy.” (It gets boring after that but picks up later with) – “When I got home my next door neighbor offered to mow my lawn.” Excuse me, Asia, but I want to know your views on our nation’s morality and butt plugs!
Al Roker’s journal is mostly pictures of Al and celebrities he ambushed while they appeared on the TODAY SHOW.
Rosie O’Donnell’s offers her poetry. GAAAA!
*******
I love celebrity blogs. I find it hilarious that they could post such items and actually think people care. Maybe instead of writing a blog they should perhaps, even just once, READ a blog.
And my inner self agrees.
But William Shatner’s blog? Here are a few of his entries:
July 06 -- I’m thrilled to pieces about being nominated for the third time. (referring to his Emmy nomination)
June 30 – My new Priceline commercial is appearing on line before it appears on TV.
January 20 – As some of you may have heard by now, Goldenpalace.com has bought a kidney stone of mine for $75,000.
*******
Melanie Griffiths’s website is just plain creepy. It chronicles her romance and rehab, accompanied by music that Norma Desmond would find too over-the-top. She also writes letters to her inner self. Many not delivered because no one’s home.
Latest entry in Gwen Stefani’s journal: “We're back. Sorry it has been so long. We'll start updating the site more often.” It’s dated May 2.
From Pamela Anderson comes this: “I don't know if you all have heard.....if you've been watching the news you probably have.....but I'm a big supporter of PETA.”
If you go to Barbra Streisand’s blog it tells you how to order her latest TV special. In fairness, Bab’s website also has statement essays that are pompous enough to suggest they’re really from her. The picture on her home page pre-dates the creation of the internet.
Asia Carrere used to be a hot porn star. Here’s a recent entry in her journal: “The day started out so crappy but ended up okay. I took Cathy swimming at the lake, where we met a nice mommy with a son the same age as Cathy.” (It gets boring after that but picks up later with) – “When I got home my next door neighbor offered to mow my lawn.” Excuse me, Asia, but I want to know your views on our nation’s morality and butt plugs!
Al Roker’s journal is mostly pictures of Al and celebrities he ambushed while they appeared on the TODAY SHOW.
Rosie O’Donnell’s offers her poetry. GAAAA!
*******
I love celebrity blogs. I find it hilarious that they could post such items and actually think people care. Maybe instead of writing a blog they should perhaps, even just once, READ a blog.
And my inner self agrees.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
the Pasadena Rogues Parade
Hello from East Haddam, Connecticut, where it's lovely and charming and I think I saw Kenneth Lay coming out of the liquor store.
*******
It’s that time of year again – the Television Critics Association’s Press Tour. TV critics from all around the country converge at a swank hotel in Pasadena for close to a month to meet the producers and stars of all the new Fall shows and all the big executives of major and cable networks. And along the way, Hollywood courts their favor by staging lavish parties for them – the cost of the shrimp alone at any one of these affairs is more than the critics combined salary for five years. And watching these rumpled freeloaders loading up their plates on buffet lines, you think they’d died and gone to Sizzlers Salad Bar heaven.
In fairness, they have a grueling task. You know those scams where you’re given “free golf weekends” and all you have to do is attend one seminar pitching you time-share vacation condos? Imagine having to sit through 200 seminars, seven or eight a day for a month. There are not enough open bars, elaborate buffets, and promotional t-shirts in the world that would make that worth it. Hell, just having to sit through all the pilots is enough to qualify one for combat pay.
These critics are subjected to an endless stream of producers and “stars” hosting sessions, trying to convince these ink stained wretches why their God awful CSI rip-off (the twist is the forensic expert can hear voices coming from the evidence), dwarf bowling reality show, or new Paula Marshall sitcom is the next big thing.
And for the producers themselves, having been in that position several times, it’s a mind numbing experience. You sit on a stage looking out at all these world weary zombies who don’t have the slightest interest in you or what you have to say. In truth, they’ve heard it before, probably six times already that day. I always felt like I was playing tennis against a blanket.
The only lively session I ever had was for ALMOST PERFECT. A critic asked one of our stars, Kevin Kilner, what jobs he had before becoming an actor. Kevin mentioned he worked in a chicken slaughterhouse and told how they slaughtered chickens. Suddenly, all the critics perked up. So starved for ANYTHING to talk about besides “what gave you the inspiration for this series?” chicken slaughtering became the topic for the next twenty minutes. We had won them over!
To make their task somewhat easier, these critics seem to glom onto one issue that they make that year’s theme, one question they can beat to death. “Are sitcoms dead?” “Why are there not enough minorities in network casts?” “Is profanity necessary?” Usually these topics spring from a comment one of the network presidents say during their session. So as this year’s TCA free-food-fest begins be on the lookout for that hot button topic. Certainly a candidate would be Katie Couric.
If you ask me the whole thing is an exercise in futility and waste. No one wants to be there. No one benefits from it (except the critics getting lavishly fed and drunk). Shows don’t get good reviews as a result. Critics don’t get enough days off to see Disneyland. I think television would be much better served if the sponsoring networks discontinued the annual TCA convention and used that money to hire more and better writers to produce better television shows – shows that would be well received even if they didn’t come attached with cocktail parties and goody bags.
*******
It’s that time of year again – the Television Critics Association’s Press Tour. TV critics from all around the country converge at a swank hotel in Pasadena for close to a month to meet the producers and stars of all the new Fall shows and all the big executives of major and cable networks. And along the way, Hollywood courts their favor by staging lavish parties for them – the cost of the shrimp alone at any one of these affairs is more than the critics combined salary for five years. And watching these rumpled freeloaders loading up their plates on buffet lines, you think they’d died and gone to Sizzlers Salad Bar heaven.
In fairness, they have a grueling task. You know those scams where you’re given “free golf weekends” and all you have to do is attend one seminar pitching you time-share vacation condos? Imagine having to sit through 200 seminars, seven or eight a day for a month. There are not enough open bars, elaborate buffets, and promotional t-shirts in the world that would make that worth it. Hell, just having to sit through all the pilots is enough to qualify one for combat pay.
These critics are subjected to an endless stream of producers and “stars” hosting sessions, trying to convince these ink stained wretches why their God awful CSI rip-off (the twist is the forensic expert can hear voices coming from the evidence), dwarf bowling reality show, or new Paula Marshall sitcom is the next big thing.
And for the producers themselves, having been in that position several times, it’s a mind numbing experience. You sit on a stage looking out at all these world weary zombies who don’t have the slightest interest in you or what you have to say. In truth, they’ve heard it before, probably six times already that day. I always felt like I was playing tennis against a blanket.
The only lively session I ever had was for ALMOST PERFECT. A critic asked one of our stars, Kevin Kilner, what jobs he had before becoming an actor. Kevin mentioned he worked in a chicken slaughterhouse and told how they slaughtered chickens. Suddenly, all the critics perked up. So starved for ANYTHING to talk about besides “what gave you the inspiration for this series?” chicken slaughtering became the topic for the next twenty minutes. We had won them over!
To make their task somewhat easier, these critics seem to glom onto one issue that they make that year’s theme, one question they can beat to death. “Are sitcoms dead?” “Why are there not enough minorities in network casts?” “Is profanity necessary?” Usually these topics spring from a comment one of the network presidents say during their session. So as this year’s TCA free-food-fest begins be on the lookout for that hot button topic. Certainly a candidate would be Katie Couric.
If you ask me the whole thing is an exercise in futility and waste. No one wants to be there. No one benefits from it (except the critics getting lavishly fed and drunk). Shows don’t get good reviews as a result. Critics don’t get enough days off to see Disneyland. I think television would be much better served if the sponsoring networks discontinued the annual TCA convention and used that money to hire more and better writers to produce better television shows – shows that would be well received even if they didn’t come attached with cocktail parties and goody bags.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Pirates of the Caribbean
Since it’s setting boxoffice records, any review of PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN’S CHEST is utterly meaningless. I should write such a flawed Home Run. But since I paid actual money to see this swashnumbing affair I feel compelled to at least vent.
NO SPOILER ALERT – I saw the movie and still don’t know what was going on.
First off, the first PIRATES was leagues better (20,000 leagues better). Johnny Depp’s character was so fresh and fun. This time he was Greg Germann in raccoon eye make up.
For all the hair raising chase scenes and special effects I couldn’t be more bored. A half hour into the picture I was praying someone would flash a CAPITOL ONE card and all the pirates would go away.
Have they already exhausted their villains to the point where Jack Sparrow now has to battle the Swamp Thing?
In one sequence he’s chased by Zulu warriors. Excuse me but what Carribbean island is THAT supposed to be?
But my big problem was this – what the fuck was going on?? There’s this ship of slime pirates, and then a map, and a bad guy from the last movie gets hired on the ship, and Keira Knightley is stowing away on another ship, and then some Voodoo lady who’s been eating licorice offers cryptic advice, and there’s a dice game that makes no sense, and Keira’s dress is floating in the water and that is supposed to mean something, and Orlando Bloom’s clothes never get dirty, and they capture a little monkey for some reason, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon visits Jack one night, and Jonathon Pryce complains about wearing a wig, and it’s real important Jack keeps a jar of dirt, and there’s a three-way sword fight between Jack, Orlando Bloom and the bad guy from the last movie where they’re all accusing each other of things more confusing than any BIG SLEEP plot point, then they cut back to the George Washington looking guy who I hadn’t seen in a half an hour and completely forgot about and he’s …I dunno where, plotting something, I dunno what…and Jack’s palm gets black then it goes away then it comes back again, and he makes a deal with Octopus Beard Guy to do something in three days – I have no idea what -- or he has to give over 99 souls – not sure how one does that, and gorgeous Keira Knightley is forced to wear a pirate hat, and there’s a magic compass that always points to Disneyworld or something, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon turns out to be Orlando Bloom’s father and has a starfish attached to his face that he never thinks to remove, and cannon balls blast through Jack’s ship but it somehow never leaks, and many of our characters get caught in this giant runaway wooden wheel that looks like a prop from last year’s Reward Challenge on SURVIVOR, and there seems to be a rum shortage, and Jack does something good so Keira Knightley hand cuffs him, and Octopus Beard Guy can sometimes grow to the size of Catalina, and for all his slime no one on his ship slips while walking on the deck, and there are Red Coats for some reason, and letters of transit or a pardon in a leather case, and after all that NOTHING IS RESOLVED.
AAARRGGGHHH!!!
If only the movie was six minutes and the ride took two and a half hours.
NO SPOILER ALERT – I saw the movie and still don’t know what was going on.
First off, the first PIRATES was leagues better (20,000 leagues better). Johnny Depp’s character was so fresh and fun. This time he was Greg Germann in raccoon eye make up.
For all the hair raising chase scenes and special effects I couldn’t be more bored. A half hour into the picture I was praying someone would flash a CAPITOL ONE card and all the pirates would go away.
Have they already exhausted their villains to the point where Jack Sparrow now has to battle the Swamp Thing?
In one sequence he’s chased by Zulu warriors. Excuse me but what Carribbean island is THAT supposed to be?
But my big problem was this – what the fuck was going on?? There’s this ship of slime pirates, and then a map, and a bad guy from the last movie gets hired on the ship, and Keira Knightley is stowing away on another ship, and then some Voodoo lady who’s been eating licorice offers cryptic advice, and there’s a dice game that makes no sense, and Keira’s dress is floating in the water and that is supposed to mean something, and Orlando Bloom’s clothes never get dirty, and they capture a little monkey for some reason, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon visits Jack one night, and Jonathon Pryce complains about wearing a wig, and it’s real important Jack keeps a jar of dirt, and there’s a three-way sword fight between Jack, Orlando Bloom and the bad guy from the last movie where they’re all accusing each other of things more confusing than any BIG SLEEP plot point, then they cut back to the George Washington looking guy who I hadn’t seen in a half an hour and completely forgot about and he’s …I dunno where, plotting something, I dunno what…and Jack’s palm gets black then it goes away then it comes back again, and he makes a deal with Octopus Beard Guy to do something in three days – I have no idea what -- or he has to give over 99 souls – not sure how one does that, and gorgeous Keira Knightley is forced to wear a pirate hat, and there’s a magic compass that always points to Disneyworld or something, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon turns out to be Orlando Bloom’s father and has a starfish attached to his face that he never thinks to remove, and cannon balls blast through Jack’s ship but it somehow never leaks, and many of our characters get caught in this giant runaway wooden wheel that looks like a prop from last year’s Reward Challenge on SURVIVOR, and there seems to be a rum shortage, and Jack does something good so Keira Knightley hand cuffs him, and Octopus Beard Guy can sometimes grow to the size of Catalina, and for all his slime no one on his ship slips while walking on the deck, and there are Red Coats for some reason, and letters of transit or a pardon in a leather case, and after all that NOTHING IS RESOLVED.
AAARRGGGHHH!!!
If only the movie was six minutes and the ride took two and a half hours.
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