Will the real Ken Levine please stand up?

I’m the other Ken Levine.

There’s the Ken Levine who is a big video game designer. He’s a giant in the industry. I probably get twenty people a day logging on here thinking I’m him. Sorry. I’m not. I don’t even own a video game.

Then, according to imdb, I was the location manager on JURASSIC PARK and FLIPPER. I don’t know who that Ken Levine was but I still get Christmas cards from dolphins.

I mention all of this to set the record straight because there is a Ken Levine impostor. I know what you’re thinking – why would anyone in their right mind want to impersonate me?

Because there was a jingle.

In the early 80’s I was pulling a weekend shift as a disc jockey on KFI Los Angeles. (CHEERS had just started and who knew if it was going to last?) The station commissioned a new jingle package and one sang “Ken Levine KFI 6-40”. Next to an Emmy there is no greater honor than having your own jock jingle.

A few years after I left they hired a new guy and since they already had this nifty paid-for jingle they insisted he use the name Ken Levine.

So now I’m getting people saying they heard me on the radio. I listened to him and well, he was me with a lobotomy. I called the station manager to protest. He said, “Tough shit. Call the union” and hung up on me. Nice.

I then did call the union. That station would be sorry they ever messed with me! The AFTRA official told me there was nothing they could do. What?? As a radio performer the only thing you have to identify yourself is your name. He shrugged. I said you can’t register with SAG as Paul Newman. You can’t join the WGA as Neil Simon. Still, they were powerless. Talk about a toothless union.

For the next year I had to endure friends saying, “I heard you on KFI. What happened? You used to be funny.”

And then a few years later the station went to a talk format and I did a couple of fill-in shifts. They wondered if maybe I shouldn’t use another name because they recently had a guy named Ken Levine.

WTF!!?

I managed to keep the name and if anyone else tries to use it I will cause a shock wave. Wait a minute, that’s one of the games created by the other me. Jesus, now even I’m confused.

3:10 to Yuma

No spoiler alert necessary since I’m not revealing anything you won’t learn from the trailer.

Westerns are always fun. And they’re proof that you can make good action movies without cool cars. If you like the genre, you should enjoy 3:10 TO YUMA provided you can get past the one rather large conceit that everyone moves heaven and earth to bring this outlaw to justice and don’t seem to mind that about a hundred other people get killed senselessly along the way. It would be wrong to just shoot the son of a bitch, but killing other folks in service of this story is fine and dandy. But like I said, get past that and you’re golden.

And it’s the same question you ask in any James Bond movie. Instead of putting him in some elaborate water tank with sharks and piranha and pollution from the East River, why doesn’t Ernst Blowfeld or Dr. No just take out a gun and blow his brains out? And after the third time he escapes from the death ray device, the contracting chamber with walls of spikes, and the giant custom-built Cuisinart you’d think the Super Villains (who we’re told are the most brilliant minds in the world) would get the idea that perhaps a pistol and one bullet might just do the trick. But I digress…

Russell Crowe was the whole movie. You rarely see a vicious outlaw who is insouciant. Christian Bale was the young James Brolin, very serviceable in the thankless good guy role. Everyone else played stereotypes. The marshal and his deputies said, “shucks,” “if he’s out there we’re gonna git him”, and “don’t know where you come from mister but in this town we uphold the law”. And the gang members were all Bruce Dern (pictured right). Ben Foster, (Crowe’s second-in-command) wanted to add depth to his character so along with Dern he added a touch of Dennis Hopper.

For my money the Bruce Dern deranged cowboy is the easiest character any actor can play. You just scrunch up your face, look crazed, adopt a bad Western accent and say in your most craven breathless voice: “Can I touch her titties now, pa? Can I? Can I? Can I?”

The sets and scenery seemed realistic, although how would anyone who’s alive today know? (Wait. Keith Richards might know.) They only said “Fuck” five or six times, not 54,892,843 like a typical hour of DEADWOOD so I worry that the dialog wasn’t authentic.

But the conditions seemed realistic enough that I thought, if I lived back during those times I don’t think I’d care to make my home in the Old West. There seemed to be, at least for me, a discernible. lack of creature comforts. I understand that if you live in Arizona in 1870 it’s going to be hot and there’s no air conditioning but God forbid one of these cowboys wore shorts? Or built an overhang so that in one three-foot patch in the entire state there was shade?

So all the while I’m watching this movie I’m thinking, “these settlers couldn’t travel three more days and end up in LA?” There were beaches back then, nice weather, and the neighborhoods were much safer. If anyone acted up they had Zorro. But I digress again…

Bottom line, if you like horse operas you’ll like this movie. And the other good news is that 3:10 TO YUMA isn’t its running time.

Our assistant speaks!

In response to my post about how David Isaacs and I work, several people wondered if our assistant, Lana could share her point of view. She graciously obliged. Personally I think she was waaaaay too kind. At one point she calls us “geniuses”. Please substitute “two notches above hack”. She also left out the part where we’d be pitching “hilarious” stuff, I would turn to her say, “Okay, what have we got?” And she’d say, “Nothing!” Or she’d delicately announce, “America’s not laughing, boys.” One of my other favorites was, “How do your wives put up with you guys?”

I also asked Lana to provide a picture of herself. This is what she sent, claiming it was her passport photo.

Lana would sometimes pitch better jokes than ours (which we would then use of course). We decided a way to give her credit was to name a character in an episode of ALMOST PERFECT after her. At the first runthrough one of cast members said, “Can we give her a better name? I mean, Lana Lewis is really a dumb name. Can’t you come up with anything better?” We then introduced him to Lana Lewis, who was standing right next to us. The name stayed in. And we’ve used it in a couple of other places as well. If you’re currently producing a show and need a name, we highly recommend Lana Lewis. Anyway, here’s her all-too-kind report:

"Some bloggers posted that they'd like to hear a few words from Ken and David's Writers Asst. That would be me; and I'd love to.

What I am great at is being able to keep pen to paper while laughing hysterically and then later being able to actually read it. Best of all, I get paid for this! I love working with these guys. Ken and David can not only create full-circle storylines, but also fill them with laughs, big laughs. In my experience I've seen a lot of writers who can write story and others who can pitch jokes; but Ken and David do both exceptionally well. Most entertaining are the pitches that don't make it into the script for one reason or another-issues like character, storyline or just that they were (my words) "too much for the network suits". Despite the Hollywood stereotype of the difficult and monstrous Producer, these comic geniuses can Executive Produce a show that everyone (and I mean everyone) loves to be a part of. They never have trouble crewing up.

What is our typical day? Aren't any really, ...It's kind of like "Seinfeld": not about anything, but stuff just happens. Hey, I think we should do a show about us. We've certainly got enough material. Oh, wait a minute... two male writers and Sally/Lana... that would be "The Dick Van Dyke Show". Yeah, well, ....it worked once...

Lana Lewis

By the way, I keep Ken and David's discarded jokes. They're $10 each or 10 for $75."

Tell Me You Love Me

ATTENTION MEMBERS OF THE CHEAP THRILLS CLUB!!!

There is a new must-see show on HBO called TELL ME YOU LOVE ME.

The Cheap Thrills Club, of course, is all of us men who are happy in our relationships yet enjoy the occasional late night cable adult fare and other forms of acceptable behavior like ogling women who wouldn’t go to bed with us even if we were single, younger, and had Steve Jobs’ money. It’s a pathetic club but the newsletters are informative and we give twelve dollar a year to charity.

If you watch REAL SEX on HBO and actually sit through those horrible flabby hippie couples learning intimacy segments or the feature on Tupperware sex toys you are a member of the Cheap Thrills Club. If you signed up for SHOWTIME specifically to get CALIFORNICATION you’re not just in the club, you’re eligible for an intervention.

Club staples are CINEMAX AFTER DARK, that Nevada brothel show on HBO, the SI swimsuit issue, and Soledad O’Brien on CNN.

And now comes TELL ME YOU LOVE YOU. No spoiler alert necessary because (a) nothing happens, and (b) what do you care anyway?

This show is getting big hype and it’s not because audiences are clamoring to see dreary relationships and marriages that are in big trouble. They have that at home. No, folks are tuning in for the sex.

And it was good sex. Not enough of course. There are scenes where people are talking – blah blah they’re not happy – blah blah they have issues. Don’t need ‘em. The way you really learn about people, who they are, and what they believe in is to watch them masturbate. Therapy session scenes are boring and sketchy. We don’t want a character “telling” us her problems, we want to discover them ourselves watching her receive the most realistic simulated sex ever on cable. If we can freeze frame the picture and say, “Doesn’t that look like the space craft and lunar module have actually docked?” then we as an audience can get a deeper understanding into the true nature and uniqueness of her character.

However, there were some things about the show I must say did take me out of the moment. Watching Sonya Walger get laid I kept thinking, “Oh no! That’s Penny from LOST! How could she do that to Desmond?” And, “Who cares if she gets pregnant? Is she behind that new group of invaders to the island?”

Also distracting: Sonya’s gynecologist had an examining room with a view. Seems to me a lot of men in the high rise across the way would be spending a good part of the work day peering through binoculars.

But I’ll be back next week. The Cheap Thrills Club might even hold weekly meetings to coincide with airings. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME has everything its sad membership could want – hot sex, super attractive people unhappy and disillusioned (boo hoo, Calvin Klein models), and decent lighting. Now if they could just get Soledad O’Brien to guest as a former nun who is horny and longing to catch up on all the time she’s missed.

Tomorrow: Our assistant Lana shares her version of working with us.

High School Musical 3

How’s this for the plot of the upcoming HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 3? A nude picture of Gabriella (Vanessa Anne Hudgens) is discovered by evil-bitch-future-CAA-agent, Sharpay (Ashley Tisdale) and her weasel brother-future-network-director-of-comedy, Ryan (Lucas Grabeel). Song: “You Learn a Lot About People by Going Through Their Purse”.

Sharpay is very aroused by the naked photo. Ryan is not. Both realize they’re gay. They’re relieved and break off their own budding romance. They sing a big duet: “Incest & Peppermint”.

Stick with me here.

Sharpay also ends her affair with Troy’s dad, the basketball coach realizing it’s wrong to sleep with an older man, much less a teacher when she’s now into quail. And she’s not even in his class.

Ryan joins the basketball team. Shower room production number: “Get’cha Game in the Head”. He’s a good player but tends to get holding calls, even while opponents are shooting free throws,

Meanwhile, Troy (Zac Efron) is on vacation at the one ski lodge that has an indoor basketball court ('Dennis Rodman’s Alpine Inn') and meets fellow vacationer, Jordan Sparkes (fresh off her American Idol tour even though it’s been over for months). They sing a duet together on karaoke night. “In Ten Years We’ll Be Playing Branson.”

Still not over the incredibly insane coincidence that after meeting Gabriella similarly in a ski lodge and a week later, out of all the high schools and cities in the world she could have transferred to, she transferred to his, Troy is shocked when Jordan transfers there as well. They sing a duet about it: “Tweeners Are Too Dumb to Care”.

Sharpay (named after a French felt pen) befriends Gabriella and invites her up to her room where she proudly shows off her extensive headless Barbie collection. Hoping to entice the dark young beauty, Sharpay casually leaves around a few nude photos of herself but Gabriella is creeped out because the shots also include her nude brother, Ryan.

Now Gabriella, Jordan, and Ryan want to star in the high school musical with Troy. Sharpay wants to star with Gabriella, or even Jordan. Ryan wants to star with Troy, his dad, or the back-up center with the soulful eyes. Jordan wants to star in CHICAGO on Broadway.

Ms. Darbus (Alyson Reed), the Drama teacher, is still in hot water with the school board since last year's musical was PHANTOM OF THE OPERA and the chandelier that hovers over the audience during the opening number snapped killing eleven people. This year no ninth graders are on the tech crew.

Gabriella finally rejects Sharpay’s advances in an emotional number called “Why Would I Want a Strap-on When I Can Have the Real Thing?”

Sharpay decides to exact revenge and releases the nude photo of Gabriella on the internet. But her plan backfires when not a single boy in the entire school is the least bit aroused.

Big final dance number as every student in East High gets scholarships to Emerson College and Troy learns that Sharpay is his new stepmother.

Presenting Levine's Laws

Listeners of my Seattle Mariners broadcasts are familiar with Levine's Law. It is, simply stated:

The lead off walk will always come around to score...unless it doesn't.

I have NEVER been proven wrong. But it's not my only law. Here are a few others. I imagine you have some too and you're welcome to share them.

Parking toll attendants at LAX are the slowest and dimmest people on the planet. They make postal clerk look like an Indy 500 pit crew.

No pregnant woman looks good in a bikini.

There are more New York cab drivers who speak English than all the night nurses in all metropolitan hospitals combined.

There is not one mohel who doesn’t think he’s a comedian. There is not one mohel who is right.

If a waiter doesn’t write down your order he will get it wrong.

If you’re telling a joke in a restaurant the waiter will arrive and interrupt the minute you get to the punch line.

There will always be one young couple that brings a baby to a slasher movie.

A hostess in an empty restaurant will always lead you to the worst table.

In every article that mentions you, no matter how complimentary the article, there will always be one thing said or misquoted that will prevent you from Xeroxing and sending it to your family.

The heavier and more cumbersome your carry-on luggage, the farther your gate will be from the terminal.

Networks will always say they want cutting edge new shows then pick up whatever pilot Paula Marshall is in.

When a hostess tells you it’ll only be five more minutes, they just have to clear off some tables – it’ll be twenty.

The minute you begin eating on an airplane, turbulence will begin.

When a couple from the mainland gets married in Hawaii the marriage doesn’t last.

Theatre audiences will always boo a Rob Schneider trailer yet he will keep getting movies.

Nine out of ten tourists at Disneyland are overweight. Ten out of ten if they stay two days.

The screw up because the hospital forgot to bill the correct insurer will never ever ever be resolved.

Women will always claim the number one thing they’re looking for in a man is a sense of humor and then pick the best looking guy.

The driver in front of you is an idiot.

Tomorrow: The nude photo of Vanessa Anne Hudgens that is making the rounds on the internet has inspired me to come up with the perfect storyline for HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 3.

The Battle of the Bionic Women

Which BIONIC WOMAN do you prefer? Here's a promo for the original BIONIC WOMAN in 1976 starring Lindsay Wagner:



And here's one for the new BIONIC WOMAN starring Michelle Ryan:



So what do you think? I have to go with the original. That stunt where Lindsay Wagner splits that stump in half -- Wow! Now THAT is a special effect!!!

How we write

I received some great suggestions from readers responding to Sunday's post. You are ALWAYS welcome to ask me questions. I will even devote a post to answers if I get enough of them. Also, people want to know my feelings about current shows, especially comedies. So from time to time once the new season begins I will take a specific sitcom episode and critique it. I'll give you a heads-up on which one and when. I do this in my Sitcom Room seminar and the students find it very helpful. But I will only do this for shows I like. To just bash someone else's sitcom has no allure for me.

One question I've received repeatedly is just how my partner and I write? What is our process? It's a little wacky but it works for us.

I’ve been lucky enough to be in the same partnership for 34 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 our M.O. 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 an assistant 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 to five days to write a half hour. Two or three if we have to. When we started it took two weeks. That’s where 34 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, that bastard.

We’re also not afraid to throw stuff out – a line, a run, a whole scene. And scripts can ALWAYS be trimmed. No matter how long our rough draft is we always look for and find cuts.

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 assistant, 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. And the amount of sex is about the same.

A FRASIER casting story

Wow! While I thought the response to my second Sitcom Room would be good, I wasn't expecting 12 people to register for it on the very first day. That means I have just 8 spaces left. If you're thinking of joining us in November, please grab one of those 8 seats before we're completely sold out.

One of my favorite casting stories is how Ben Gazzara almost guested on FRASIER. Gazzara has been a terrific distinguished actor for over 50 years. He’s appeared in hundreds of movies, including several John Cassevetes classics. His television work is extensive and impressive as well. He starred in several series including RUN FOR YOUR LIFE and ARREST AND TRIAL (a 60’s series that is not just basically LAW & ORDER, it IS LAW & ORDER).

There was an episode of FRASIER that was to introduce Martin’s partner. Frasier’s father, Martin had been a cop for the Seattle PD for thirty years. A list of possible actors was prepared and among the names the producers liked was Ben Gazzara. They were more excited when the casting director reported back that Gazzara was interested, just subject to a phone call.

So one of the executive producers got on the phone with him. Gazzara was perfectly charming. He was a fan of the show and would be delighted to play Martin’s partner.

Just one tiny thing.

He wanted to play him as Ben Gazzara.

Say what???

Gazzara didn’t want to play a character, he wanted to play the part as if he, the actor Ben Gazzara were Martin’s partner all those years. I kid you not. As if in between acting gigs Ben Gazzara was a police officer in Seattle. Now these are the nagging little logic problems writers have to face. How do you explain away that Martin's partner would slip out on weekends and vacations to appear in a hundred movies (some filmed in Europe) and star in long running TV series? And how do you make it believable that the rest of the time this noted thespian was investigating fruit stand robberies in Pike Place Market?

I still don't get it. I have enormous respect for Ben Gazzara and can only assume he didn't really understand the character he was offered or he really wasn't familiar with the show.

In any event, Mr. Gazzara did not get the part. You know how it is -- creative differences.

Tomorrow: By request -- how we write.

Stop the hearse! The Sitcom is NOT dead

One of the features of my recent Sitcom Room was a panel discussion featuring noted comedy writers. One of them, Sam Simon (SIMPSONS, TAXI, CHEERS, DREW CAREY SHOW) caused a momentary stir when he declared the sitcom was dead. Alan Sepinwall picked up on it in his article about the seminar for the Newark Star-Ledger. So I thought I’d take today to reassure you all that the sitcom is still very much alive and will continue to be.

Is it a coincidence that I’m posting this the same day I’m announcing REGISTRATION IS OPEN for my second seminar? Absolutely!! It’s just one of those eerie freaks of nature. (Details of the Sitcom Room follow this article.) But my belief that the sitcom is very much alive is sincere and supported by facts. Consider these:

Networks have not cut back their comedy development departments. Even the people who do nothing but sit in meetings and take notes still have their jobs.

Sitcoms are still getting numbers. TWO AND HALF MEN still beats HEROES and 24. THE OFFICE and 30 ROCK manage to hold their own even though they’re in the death slot against GREY’S ANATOMY and CSI.

A successful sitcom can launch an entire night. Think NBC misses FRIENDS? For Christsakes they spun off JOEY...and were so desperate they renewed it!

Sitcoms perform well in reruns. Better than any other form.

There is no other genre of television programming that is a bigger cash cow in success. Warner Brothers will make more off of FRIENDS than their big summer blockbusters combined. How much moolah do you think 20th Century Fox has raked in from MASH? It has been paying off jackpots for over thirty years with no signs of stopping or even slowing down. Compare that to AMERICAN IDOL….

Reality shows have no shelf life. You can’t even rerun AMERICAN IDOL much less put it into syndication. Once upon a time networks couldn’t own their shows. So it made no difference whether a series had syndication legs as long as they got their big ratings for one or two airings. Not anymore. Back end profits are really where it’s at and you spell that S-I-T-C-O-M.

Many hit dramas are in the same reality boat. ABC is not even rerunning LOST. Once you know what happens you don’t watch again. This is of big concern to say, WGN.

Sitcoms generally fare better in syndication than dramas. Early fringe and late night blocks usually favor comedies. Even blockbusters like ER and WEST WING don’t get the syndication numbers SEINFELD, RAYMOND, or even MASH does.

Sitcoms are FAR cheaper to produce than dramas. With the same risk of failure.

Ratings aren’t the only way networks can make money off sitcoms. How much do you think NBC will take in on the DVDs of THE OFFICE and 30 ROCK? This is a new revenue stream. So is downloading shows for your iPod. And amazingly, this hasn’t hurt syndication numbers. People who buy or download SEINFELD still watch it when it’s on TV.

Networks want to lure young viewers. What are pre-teens watching? HANNAH MONTANA and other sitcoms on The Disney Channel. And not just sitcoms – old school, retro, multi-camera, cheaply produced sitcoms. Tomorrow’s network audience sure doesn’t think the form is dead.

Sitcoms are flourishing on other outlets besides the major networks. TBS recognized that a huge sitcom loving audience was not being served and has enjoyed great success showing syndicated and original comedy series. HBO has done okay with SEX IN THE CITY, CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM, ENTOURAGE, and now FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS. Showtime is sure tickled it has WEEDS.

And these cable channels offer creators the chance to do more edgy off-beat shows, a freedom they might not have with the networks.

Finally, you know that television goes in cycles. There may never be the glut of sitcoms that we had in the past, but they will survive and rebound in popularity. I would amend Sam’s statement and say that yeah, the bad, stale, family sitcom with tired rhythms, forced laughs, and bogus characters is dead. I would also add – thank goodness. But the genre perseveres.

And you also know that eventually a comedy is going to break through, be the next big hit, and then sitcoms will be the hot new thing. And networks will stop programming them against GREY’S ANATOMY.

So take heart. Keep writing funny. Who knows? You could be the one to launch the next great golden age of comedy. Or at least get picked up for a second season.

I think our assistant, Lana Lewis put it best. When David and I were trying to work in some deep thought-provoking concept into a script she would say, “Aw come on you guys. America just wants to laugh!!”

She’s right.

*************

And with all that in mind, I’m holding my second Sitcom Room seminar. This one will be November 3rd and 4th in Los Angeles and like the last one, limited to twenty attendees. You can get info here and, if you want, register online. I invite you to check out the website and read what previous students had to say (under much duress). Beyond this event, I have no plans for future seminars but if I do do more they will all be in LA. It’s too hard to get four actors through airport security.

Hope to see you in November. Seriously, it’s a great and unique experience. You’ll learn a lot, have a great time, and I promise not to breakdown CASABLANCA.

Review: The Jerry Lewis Telethon

First off, thanks to all of you who responded to yesterday’s post. Part of the fun for me of having this blog is making new friends without having to be on Facebook. If you haven’t responded yet, please do. Thanks.

Okay, I admit it. I unabashedly love the JERRY LEWIS TELETHON. I look forward to it every year…for both the right and wrong reasons.

It does benefit a very worthy cause, the Muscular Dystrophy Association. The videos of the kids are both heartbreaking and inspiring. Let’s hope someday there’s a cure.

But the JERRY LEWIS TELETHON is the absolute height of entertainment cheese, a time warp to a Las Vegas scene that everyone but Jerry realizes has long since passed, and is the home of the most insincere sincerity that only show business can create. The treacle just oozes out of your speakers. Born in the swinging 60s, nurtured by Sammy Davis Jr. (combining over-concern, hipness, gross sentimentality, and jewelry), this style was perfected by Jerry Lewis who added his own special touches. No one could beg with such passion while sticking a cigarette in his ear. No one could deliver a biblical sermon, break down crying, then go into his spastic retard character for comic relief.

The Frech call him Le Roi du Crazy. They still shortchange him. Since his auteur movie days he has developed his own unique and delicious blend of condescension and humility. Every year I know what I’m going to get and am always richly rewarded.

This year Jerry called local New York co-host, Tony Orlando: “Only the best Puerto Rican to ever come to this country.”

Now how can you NOT love this???

Nowhere do superlatives fly like the JERRY LEWIS TELETHON. In only one half hour I caught “infamously wonderful”, “exceptional talent”, “most talented”, “most amazing”, “most exciting”, “unmatched”, “extraordinary”, “a true legend”, and “a treasure in every sense of the word.” On the other hand, Jerry described guest David Cassidy as “that little cocker”. He’s probably right but still!

And of course, hugs for all. Except one. I'll get to that later.

Jerry looked better than in years past – especially that one where he was on steroids and looked like a Macy’s balloon. And his hair is no longer jet black. Finally, at age 80 he’s starting to grey.

I miss the fact that he doesn’t emcee all 21 hours anymore. By hour 16 he used to be slobbering about Dean even when the media director from Safeway markets was trying to hand him a check.

And then there’s Ed McMahon. For sixty years America has been wondering – just what IS this guy’s talent? Say what you will, the man has made a wildly successful career for himself by playing the toady to the host. And we only get to see that obsequiousness one time a year now.

There was also Jann Carl and Tom Bergeron to interview people and pronounce the big words. Jerry is quoted as saying, “They’re GIANTS in their field” and he’s “Proud and humbled” to have them.

Since Jerry and Ed now take the late night hours off, who fills in and emcees? This is not a joke. Puppets!!

In LA we had three crawls going constantly. I’m sure other stations had local storm warnings, sports scores, news headlines, and promos for the new season of JUDGE JUDY so there were as many as six crawls.

The telethon is a throwback to a better Vegas, a classier Vegas – where all performers dressed, dyed their hair, and drank. It was elegance as only the mob could imagine it. There were dinner shows and late night lounge shows, and no gift shops right outside the showrooms. You couldn’t buy Keely Smith t-shirts, Rosemary Clooney refrigerator magnets, or Frank Sinatra lunch pails. But I digress…

Celine Dion recorded a gooey-gram and then sang a pre-taped song from her overblown Vegas show. Dancers were flying all over the place. Dion was raised on a large hydraulic pedestal as she belted out a song she selected just for the occasion. I kid you not, the song she felt most appropriate for the Muscular Dystrophy telethon was called “Drove All Night to Make Love to You”.

Other guests included some fat comic doing alfalfa sprouts jokes (“you call that food?”), a ventriloquist who used Jerry as his dummy, Ace Young, the cast of GREASE, super entertainer Ivanka Trump, John Tesh, Vonzell, Tony Danza, and of course the best Puerto Rican to ever come to this country.

Jerry’s son, Gary performed two songs. In the middle of the second song (a touching teen ballad Gary dedicated to his father called “Everybody Loves a Clown”) Jerry wandered onto the set, stood next to Gary for twelve seconds, obviously felt uncomfortable, and then just left. After the song, nothing. Jerry just moved on to the next thing.

So I guess the only one of Jerry’s kids who wasn’t showered with love and emotion turned out to be his own.

But it's that kind of weirdness that keeps me coming back for more. On the other hand, nothing would please me more than to hear that the telethon has been canceled because a cure has been found. And maybe Jerry could spend next Labor Day fishing with Gary.

This year's telethon collected $63.7 million dollars. Good goin'!

Who's out there?

Happy Labor Day. Traditionally, that means the end of summer and the Jerry Lewis telethon (which I shall be reviewing tomorrow). Here in Los Angeles it also means power outages during 100 degree weather.

I try to do this every six months or so. I’ve now logged over 700 posts (12 really good ones) since I started this blog in November of 2005. And I plan to continue posting something new every day.

But from time to time I ask my readers, especially new readers, to go from lurkers to one-time commenters – saying where you’re from, how you found this blog, what you’d like to see more of or less of, etc. So after you’ve called Jerry with a pledge because you were so moved by the Neil Diamond impersonator, I hope you’ll check in here.

Thanks much.

And speaking of kids (and labor), Bridget Moynahan delivered New England Patriots Quarterback, Tom Brady’s baby last week. A boy. Tom knocked her up and then split. I was really hoping Bridget would name Tom’s new son, Peyton.

Again, thanks for participating... if you do.

How's this for really bad writing?

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. (Pictured underneath the sign is Ron Jacobs, our technical adviser and now host of Whodaguyradio.com)

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. So here’s a scene from our all-time worst teleplay.

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.

Space helmet on, O' Captain Video

Here's another classic clip from THE HONEYMOONERS. Ralph and Norton share a television set. At the time, the big kids' program was CAPTAIN VIDEO. Gleason's take just kills me. I've seen it a gazillion times, it always makes me laugh.

Movie theater etiquette

This is me ranting about the little things in movie theaters that PISS ME OFF!!!

It’s not enough to just turn your cellphone on silent . PUT IT THE FUCK AWAY. Don’t look at it during the movie. It’s like someone turning on a flashlight in a dark room. It’s distracting. Don’t do it! And don’t text message.

Don’t bring a baby. EVER. Can’t get a sitter? STAY HOME. I also blame theater owners for this one. Don’t allow babies. A young cretin couple brings their one year old to see HOSTEL and you sell them tickets, you should be the one dipped in a boiling vat of canola oil.

Don’t wear a hat. Unless you’re Diana Ross or Don King. This goes for baseball caps. Just because you’re balding doesn’t mean you can annoy other people.

In a fairly empty theater don’t take a seat right in front of me. Especially when there are twenty seats on either side you could choose instead.

Realize when you buy those nachos with the plastic cheese sauce that you are repulsing everyone within two rows.

Put your sweater on or keep it off. Don’t keep changing your mind during the film.

Don’t throw your big honking coat over the back of your seat so that it’s completely in my lap.

Don’t yell, “Turn it up!” during the THX announcement. It’s not funny… and hasn’t been funny for ten years.

If you’re still yelling “Focus!” in the middle of the movie, it’s YOU!

Don’t save fifteen seats for your stupid late friends.

Never ask me to move over a seat so it’s more convenient for your party of six.

When you come in late and the movie has already started, don’t yell the name of your friend…over …and over…and over.

Scream in your boyfriend’s ear, not mine.

When you drape your feet over the row in front of you, you are kicking the seats of everyone in that row.

Don’t pay for one Goddamn box of Milk Duds with a credit card.

Don’t talk back to the screen. This may come as a shock to your morons but THE ACTORS CAN’T HEAR YOU.

I’m sure you have others. Have at it in the comments section.

Random musings and birthday wishes

First off, an announcement. I’m going to hold another SitcomRoom seminar later this fall. Dates and location to be announced very soon. To get an idea of what to expect, you can read about the very first SitcomRoom. If you want to receive all the details and registration info as soon as they’re available, you can sign up for my SitcomRoom alert list. Like last time, enrollment will be limited to twenty. And no, I don't give Pocket Fishermen to the first ten who sign-up.

Overheard: someone on a cellphone trying to sell a direct-to-DVD film called ASSASIN BALLARINAS.

There’s a new company called iScript that will record your spec screenplay. The idea here is that producers and agents who never read might actually listen to a script if they had the chance. In theory it’s a good idea and it’s certainly novel. But I have two concerns. Seems a small CD would be even easier for an agent/producer/reader to lose. So they will. Guaranteed! And I worry that the actors might not do the material justice. I attended a screenplay reading last year where the main character was the world’s most brilliant nuclear physicist. Billy Ray Cyrus played him. Viennese genius, Jed Clampet discussing quantum theory. So writers beware.

Oh boy! Katie Couric will be doing her newscast from Iraq and Syria the next ten days. Expect her to really get to the bottom of things. But here’s my favorite part of this non-story. When CBS Evening News executive producer, Rick Kaplan was questioned as to whether this is just a ploy to increase Katie’s horrendous ratings he said, “Only fools will perceive that.” I guess everyone on the planet is a fool then. I know I am. How about you?

If you wish you were in Hawaii (like I do every day, especially when I read the trades), put on an aloha shirt, make yourself a pina colada and tune into to Whodaguyradio.com. “Hele me hoohiwahiwa George's ho'omaha loa”. Sounds beautiful, doesn’t it? It’s the only Hawaiian phrase I know. It means, “Come celebrate George’s retirement.”

And finally…

Happy birthday, Annie! My daughter turns 21 on Thursday. No longer will she need that Ms. McLovin fake ID. Annie, you’ve grown into a fabulous, caring, striking young woman. If only I could still convince you that Lulu is a great singer.

I love you, Annie and as everyone knows, there’s nothing like a daddy’s love.

And the thousands of winners are...

Who deserves an Emmy for producing a comedy or drama? It used to be easy. There were four or five of them – the show runner and those few writers who have worked their way up the ranks to producer. Now every show has more producers than West Virginia has registered voters. Stars get producer credits, in explicitly, so do their managers, non writing executives jump on the band wagon, studio executives horn-in on the credit, punch-up guys are now “consulting” producers, series directors join the act, and in lieu of studios giving writers bumps in salary they now just hand out producing titles. Yes, they’re making story editor money but they’re co-producers.

As a result, when a show wins Best Comedy or Drama it looks like the Normandy invasion as half the audience invades the stage to pick up their hardware. In an attempt to not deplete the world’s gold reserve the Academy has revised the rules and will now only allow eleven producers to be eligible for best comedy show Emmys and ten for dramas.

But then comes the question of which eleven of the say, twenty or fifty producers should be eligible?

Here are my thoughts. NO non-writing producers. These are all executive, not creative positions. Not saying that they don't have a role in the process but it's not in this area. Studio development people? Development is their JOB. They make calls. They come to meetings and just sit. They offer "support". And there's no "Best Supporting Producer" category. Directors? Sorry, this is the one medium you are not the king. And as for managers -- if the sum total of a manager's contribution is one time handing a pilot script to his client he does not deserve an Emmy (or the money he’s skimming off the show for doing nothing but that’s another story).

This is the bottom line: During a rewrite at 2 a.m., look around the room. Whoever is not there automatically should be eliminated (with one exception -- the line producer. He/she works harder than anybody, usually under the most impossible of conditions.) The non-writing producer who waltzes out at 6 to get to the Laker game? Disqualified. The actor who has no idea where the writers room is? Application denied. The studio exec whose only talent is doing a good Ari Gold impression? Not a chance.

Hopefully, when it’s just down to writers, ten or eleven slots will be enough. Consultants, by the way, don’t qualify. Full-time only. If the issue still isn’t settled then there’s only one way writers can resolve it, equitably -- taking into consideration seniority, contribution, loyalty – and throwing all that shit out. Nerf basketball! One-on-one. Round robin eliminations.

It's how writers make all major life decisions -- marriage, whether to go out on strike, which religion to believe it, etc.

I know what some of you are thinking -- isn't that a frivolous and irresponsible way to make important decisions? No. Not at all. But if you are concerned and want to settle these things in a more, shall we say, mature manner -- then I recommend Foosball.

Good luck to all the nominees in all the categories.

Live Large, Think Big

Back from Texas, deep in the heart of. Spent the weekend in Big D speaking to the Dallas Screenwriters Association, filling in for the Mariners (in town to play the Rangers), and risking gout with every meal. On every corner there’s either a steakhouse or a church. One place called “Holy Cow” could be either or both.

The current Dallas motto is “Live Large, Think Big” which is much better than “Not Just Hot But Humid”.

Believe it or not, Dallas has more restaurants per capita than New York City (although NYC has a huge lead in salad bars) and more shopping centers per capita than any city in the U.S. “Eat Large, Spend Big”.

It is a surprisingly cosmopolitan city. Gorgeous downtown skyline, with its tall towers outlined in shimmering green and white lights. There are museums, a night life, and be careful going into that shit-kicker bar, it just might be gay.

Not to further tarnish Dallas’ sparkling redneck reputation but until recently their mayor was a woman…and Jewish, Laura Miller. And in 2004 Lupe Valdez was elected sheriff of Dallas County. She’s the first Hispanic, first woman, and first openly gay lesbian to ever fill that role. Hey, she might’ve had better luck getting into Miss Kitty’s bloomers than Marshall Dillon ever did.

Stayed at the Arlington Hilton and had a lovely view of people throwing up from 700 feet on the Six Flags Over Texas thrill rides. Nearby is Hurricane Harbor, a waterslide amusement park. I’m sure it’s very refreshing if you pretend that hundreds of people don’t pee in it a day.

Football is king in Dallas. High school games routinely draw from 20 – 50,000 people. And still, no one watches FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS.

Meanwhile, the entire world stops for the Dallas Cowboys. Last week when the Rangers broke an all-time major league record by scoring 30 runs in one game they still shared the front page of the sports section with the Cowboys training camp report on wind sprint drills.

They’re building a new stadium for the Cowboys in Arlington, affectionately known as "Jerry’s World" (for Jerry Jones, the team’s owner). It’s costing in the neighborhood of one billion dollars, will have a retractable roof, and the two largest glass panels in the world. Which makes sense financially because the stadium will be in use eight times a year.

Had to once again see the Texas School Book Depository (now an excellent museum) where Oswald shot Kennedy. Forget that it’s across the street from a Morton’s Steakhouse, it’s still pretty chilling. And on the street itself are X’s where the shots landed. I don’t think they needed the guys standing around selling grisly pictures however. America remembers and profits.

Saw the grassy knoll and the white picket fence that hid the alleged “second shooter”. But it’s not the original picket fence. It’s a replica. The real one I understand (true story) was sold on ebay.

Meanwhile, I’m still waiting for the Conspiracy Museum to reopen. Their previous landlord booted them out – a plot no doubt engineered by the CIA, Rupert Murdoch, Korean airlines, and Posh Spice. I hope my phones aren’t tapped because I wrote this.

If you go to Black Eyed Peas' and order your first chicken fried steak (like I did fifteen years ago when I was fulltime with the Mariners) don’t ask them to cook it “medium rare”. I did and it was an E.F. Hutton moment as forty guys named Dirk stared at me in disbelief and disgust.

When you think of Dallas – what comes to mind besides JFK, football, cured meats, heat prostration, people carrying weapons, the Trammell & Margaret Crow Collection of Asian Art, rodeos, rodeo clowns like our president, country clubs, “Country” Charlie Pride, evil oil companies, the Renaissance Hotel that looks like a Bic lighter, J.R. Ewing, Dr. Pepper, Texas-Instruments, SMU, Verne Lundquist, the first Neiman Marcus, the Savings & Loan crisis, Tex-Mex, cheerleaders, and “Debbie Does”? Why radio station jingles of course! Dallas is the home of JAM Creative Productions the largest radio jingle mill in the country. Big D is filled with gifted singers who would all have huge careers if they could only sing songs that were longer than eight seconds.

There’s a chain of convenience stores called “Grab and Go”. I guess their target customers are robbers.

And the police have recently instituted a “no pursuit” rule so it’s “Grab and Go At Your Leisure”.

Goff’s Hamburgers no longer has an eight-foot statue of Vladimir Lenin out front. I don’t know about you but nothing says tasty burgers to me like the Russian Revolution.

If you want tacos there’s Taco Bueno, Taco King, Taco Cabana, Taco Bell, Taco Diner, Taco Express, Taco Grande, Taco Pronto, and Taco Loco Wagon. If you want a good deli, good luck. It’s easier to find a mountain in Dallas.

For Italian, there’s the aptly named Campisi’s Egyptian.

My dining trips took me to Pappadeaux, which was excellent (I find the more unpronounceable the title, the better the Cajun cuisine), Lawry’s for a light lunch, and Sonny Bryan’s Smokehouse BBQ, clogging Dallas arteries since 1910. “Live Large, Think Pig”.

Mark Cuban, billionaire owner of the Mavericks, supposedly answers his email. Not true. I dropped him a note saying I’d be in town, and wondered if he could show me Bonnie Parker’s grave. He never responded, the bastard.

How perfect! There’s a highway named for George Bush… and it’s a toll road.

Guns are not allowed in bars or libraries.

Sunday night I filled in for the great Dave Neihaus and broadcast the Mariners-Rangers game back to Seattle. It was my first time in their new stadium. Originally named “the Ballpark”, they must’ve felt that was too generic because they’ve now renamed it the far more colorful, “Rangers Park”. What they really should call it is “the Typhoon”. My God! It was like the movie TWISTER. I fully expected to see a cow fly by the booth as I was describing the action.

Taking a cue from the Dodgers, the Rangers experimented this weekend with a “Country Style” section. For you tenderfoots and Jews, that means “all you can eat”. For only $29 fans could stuff themselves into oblivion. The tickets sold out almost immediately. The experiment was so successful the team next year plans to release their expensive players and replace them with corn dogs and ribs. Future tie-in promotions include: “Heart Attack Night” and “Heimlich Maneuver Night”.

We have a contest on M’s radio where we give a fan $7,000 if the team scores seven runs in the 7th inning. The Rangers had a similar one pay off last week – their “30/30” contest. If Texas scores 30 runs in a game one lucky listener wins a can of 30 grade motor oil. Enter these things because you just never know.

All in all, I had a great trip. I would’ve gained twenty pounds if I didn’t stop off at Six Flags Over Texas for some thrill rides on my way out of town.

“Live Large… or Think Bulimic.”

Our first script

A question I was asked when I spoke to the Dallas Screenwriters Association last week and one I'm ofter asked is how did David Isaacs and I write our first script?

It was 1973. It was also the first script for either of us. Going in, we knew…NOTHING. And came out knowing...not much more.

We decided to write a pilot about college life. We were told write about what you know and that was the only thing either of us knew. Two guys who couldn’t get dates living in a dorm. We wrote about what we knew TOO WELL.

I had never even seen a television script. I went to a bookstore in Hollywood that had old TV scripts on a remainder table. I bought an OLD ODD COUPLE episode for two dollars. So now we knew the format. We were ready to go! I mean, what else is there?

At the time, the way we wrote was that David took it down in longhand in a college binder then I would type up the script. One Sunday afternoon we wrote Fade In and just started writing. Did we prepare an outline first? Outline? What’s that?? We were more of the “toilet paper school” – just put a roll in the typewriter and write till you run out of paper.

We wrote and wrote and wrote until finally one day I leafed through the ODD COUPLE script and said to my partner, “What page do you think we’re on now?” David thumbed through the binder and said, “I dunno. About 34.” I said, “Really? You know, they start wrapping it up pretty quick here.” We stopped, took five minutes to come up with a big ending (which involved the university’s entire computer system going kablooey, spewing out thousands of IBM cards.), wrote it in about fifteen more minutes, and that was it. We were done. Off to El Torito for margaritas. Forget that it would have cost $24,000,000 to produce in 1973 and had no story, we were now writers!!

Needless to say, we did not sell it. But we enjoyed the process, had fun working together, and there were some funny moments buried in there somewhere. We were encouraged enough by the experience to want to really go forward and do it right. From there came crash courses in writing, more spec scripts, total dedication, and thanks to a little luck, ultimate success.

Your first script will probably be terrible (not as bad as ours but still). Your second will be better. But you can’t write your second until you write your first. And your third will be better still. So if you’re thinking of becoming a writer, take the plunge. Maybe learn a principle or two BEFORE writing Fade In (unlike us), an outline might be nice, but go for it. And no matter how bad it is, you’re still entitled to that margarita at El Torito.

Better living through television

Howdy y'all from Dallas.

Thought I'd show one of my favorite all-time comedy scenes. This is from THE HONEYMOONERS starring Jackie Gleason (Ralph)and Art Carney(Norton)from the mid 50's. In this classic scene they're about to go on live television and advertise a kitchen utensil they're selling -- their latest get rich quick scheme. Judging by today's informercials not much has changed.

We pick them up rehearsing.