University Daily Kansan
Friday, December 3, 1976
5
TV isn't what it used to not be anyway
Guest Writer
By RON HARTUNG
If our parents are telling the truth—and this is neither the time nor the place to discuss The Parent as Liar—then probably the first television image to rivet our infantile attention was the test pattern. It is at a very young age that a magic screenful of gagging moving images would choose the one picture not moving. Precocious little devils indeed.
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Of course, things were different then (rather a deep thought, yes?). Sesame Street was but a seed in some programmer's mind, and it hadn't occurred to anyone yet that watching television could be a premeditated educational experience.
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NOT TO SAY that we didn't learn anything from the tube in our so-called formative years. Television did far more than parade funny faces before our hungry
eyes. It taught us social skills and values,
and it helped me realize that big playground we called The Outside.
The emphasis was on the family, and there were families aplenty one could adopt. Many of us took the Cleaver family (and that has made all the difference).
THE CLEAVERS, of course, were Father Ward ('Boys, any more horseplay and you'll have to clean the garage on Saturday. Sop's on it'), Mother June ('How was your day? Brother Wally ('Heck, Beav, Eddie didn't mean it when he called you a moron') and, of course, The Beaver ('Gee, Mom, when I'm just like you and Dad?')
Minor crises were commonplace at the Cleavers' a mupiled brief case, a fallen officer, and a suicide attack.
general everything ran smoothly. And it never occurred to most of us to question the relatively unrealistic existence of the television family. Quite the opposite. We blanched if our own lives varied too much from the Cleaver scenario.
AND THAT was a problem. Most mothers didn't do their housework in starched housesheds, as Mom Cleaver did. Some of us would get rapped in the teeth if we asked for "a bum of milk," which Wally regularly asken for and received.
Primarily, however, most of us didn't have our lives packaged into 30-minute slices with neat resolutions at every turn. Nor were our childrids forlay into humor greeted with laughter from an invisible object: a letter written in the letter sweater and a State penant did not a Wally Cleaver make—and keeping up with the Cleavers could be a full-time job.
OTHER FAMILIES, though, lay waiting for those who sought models with less Beavishier appeal. There were the Andersons (JM, Margaret, Princess, Bud, Kitten), the Newtons (JM, Pete, Joey, Jacky, Clipper, the Kings (Sky, Petty, Clipper, Songbird) over the Presonts (Sergent and Yukon King—what a handsome couple).
Our own families were dull and ordinary, but for a half hour at a time we could be adopted by an exciting, vibrant family of our choice: a wife, witty father; a warm, hardworking mother; siblings who shed none of each other's blood. The gulf between the real and the television ideal was a wide one indeed.
UNTIL THE dark day arrived that banished both ignorance and bravery. Beaver was the most powerful animal in the forest.
fairies as one of the casualties of Imminent Adulthood. We learned that all those families we'd come to love and admire weren't families at all, but actors. That futurist movie genre wasn't the name of Kirby Grant (oh brother). And those warm folks who had seemed so close to each other were, in fact, virtual strangers. There were exceptions: Roy Rogers and Dale Evans for one, Sgt. Preston and Larry Wilson for only second. (Down, King, Down, bifel.)
But the wounds heal fast, and it takes us little time to willingly suspend our disbelief and sink back into our vicarious world. So if Wally Cleaver clever doesn't exit? Neither does Fred Broski until we turn on our TVs, and even then it's debatable.
AND WHAT *t* of today's young living room orplants? Sure, there are silicon families at the house.
view would want to join. The Bunker? Angels? Augela? Well, maybe Charlie's Angles.
Alas, it seems that adulthood consists of biding farewell to old chums and learning to live with ghosts. No more will we see fresh new adventures of our favorite families. Many of the old shows are syndicated, yes, but watching them is much like watching old home movies: They merely remind us that what's gone is gone. Some of these episodes are punctuated with Veganatic episodes is more than many a strong viewer can hear.
SO LONG, Beaver, Adios, Donate Reed, the Whirlybirds and all you stars of yesteryear. And farewell, test pattern, for even you aren't pressed into service as often as they are. Don't use patterns to our children's children! And who—oh, will explain Froskib?
Arts & Leisure
Woody Allen shines in 'Front,' story of blacklisting in the 1950s
By CHUCK SACK
BEGINNER
The greatest achievement of "The Front" is its depiction of the paranoia that struck down the entertainment industry in the 1960s. In one memorable moment, a man whose name has been confused with that of a member of the infamous blacklists tries to get away from the office of one major blacklisting organization.
He is brushed off by the head of the Freedom Information Service, who advises him to confess even though he is in love with her. Mr. O'Reilly who have done something," shrugs the bureaucrat."
"BUT I haven't done anything," whites the victim. The brusque reply is madeningly logical: "That," says the bureaucrat, "is why I can't help you."
Set against this background,
"The Front" tells the fictional
story of Howard Prince (Woody Allen), a cashier in a bar, who possesses modest intelligence, and Michael Murphy (Michael Murphy) is a successful television writer, and he comes to see Howard. "I can't write my more," he confesses, in her *block*? "asks Howard."
"No. I've been blacklisted."
THIS COLD war practice was officially denied by the major film studios and television networks, who nonetheless refused to employ anyone who was accused rightly or wrongly. Or they leftening at any time in their lives. Faced with this nightmare, Alan asked Howard to be "first."
For 10 per cent of the salary,
Howard agrees to submit Alan's
scripts under the name Howard
Prince. Soon, after an official writes a
well. Asked at the bank what
line of work he is making his
fortune in, Howard pauses and then answers, "Futures."
BEFORE GRINDING to an unsatisfactory, but cheery ending, "The Front" manages to examine many different facets of the blacklist. Helpless in the face of this pervasive conspiracy, each character reacts differently.
Howard, who is now rich and famous, prefers to ignore the mechanism that made it possible; a money coman (e.g., the Rutgers University Z-Mastei) is slowly being ruined because his repentance "lacks sincerity." i.e., he won't inform on his friends; Howard's directors when she sees what her network is doing; the three writers Howard fronts for can't agree about what action Howard should take when he is asked to take an executive tremble when a supermarket owner threatens to boycott the products of any
sponsor who supports a show that uses blacklisted talent.
IN HIS FIRST dramatic role, Woody Allen gives a convincing performance as the increasingly guilt-riddled Howard Sweeney, the master of the elements of his quirky comedy persona in the role but it's in the more serious scenes that he demonstrates his abilities. His nervous concern and touching confessions mark him as the man who he's had so much better than he've been in his own films.
But the most compelling sequence is the closing credits. Zero Mostel, director Martin Ritt, writer Walter Bernstein and director Kirk Hammond porting cast have the dates they were blacklisted printed directly below their names. Even if you know this in advance, the review of this in-depth fictional event is riving. It also helps to explain the film's two greatest shortcomings.
BERNSTEIN'S script is occasionally too opaque; sometimes the events are neatly packaged in much the same way that some of the works of blacklisted writers were openly propagandist. Rarely is the film this shallow, and never long before the atmosphere reasserts itself, but "The Front is most effective when it presents a rational rather than cerebral.
The only other major weakness in Hollywood's one serious attempt to deal with the darkest period in its history is the movie's conclusion. After ducking questions in his appearance before a Senate panel, he asked, and says, "I don't recognize your authority to ask me these questions. Go fuck yourself."
This just doesn't ring true, but one can hardly blame the girl for not taking responsibility themselves. They've waited more than 20 years to say it.
Oldies not always goodies
Reviewer
By STEVE FRAZIER
Staff photo by DAVE REGIER
Somewhere along the way, old songs and old styles stopped being corry and started being camp, and the nostalgia nuts in the music industry were soon jitterbugging their way to the bank.
With widely varying degrees of aesthetic success, musical counterparts to zoot suits, bobby sox and feather coats began sprouting from the work of the Pointer Sisters and Bette Davis. They were Barbie Streisand, and most recently from a group of talented newcomers called the Manhattan Transfer.
THESE NEWCOMERS have now unleashed their second effort, "Coming Out," on the Atlantic label.
In spirit, "Coming Out" retraces the footsteps of its financially successful predecessor. Although the new album
abandons some of the pretentious posturing of the first album and contains a higher percentage of newer song styles, the Transfer still aims for the nostalgia market.
Old songs aren't inherently crippling for today's pop performers. Witness the Pointer Sisters' blazing version of 'Salt Peanuts' or their Duke Ellington medley on the
THAT SUCH a spineless group can be so entertaining is a credit to the collective talent, of which Ms. Hauser is one of members Tim Hauser, Laurel Miegel, Alan Paul and Janis Siegel. The secret is in the ability of Ms. Hauser to Transfer shines with good arrangements, excellent
The group has good reasons to stick with camp. It sick performances are comfortable and likable, and those old songs have made the Transfer's four members new stars. But in relying on nostalgia's appeal, the group forgot to develop a practical performance. With her personality, the Transfer can't rise above the material, can't sing a soul into a song.
Perhaps the Transfer members' problems lie in the impression that they neither buy nor use the material. Instead, they use it. That difference might appear slight on paper, but on record the difference is as real and as significant between a diploma and a job.
"COMING OUT" is gutless, a musical portrayal of Little Orphan Apple's Nank stare.
production and the members' own impressive vocal skills.
The Transfer opens the album with a toe-tapping rouser, "Don't Go," that hints that the组or simply someday realize its potential.
"Zindy Lou." "The Speak Up Mambo" and "Popsicle Tosei" flirt with excessive cuteness, but never quite cross the threshold. Easily more forgettable are throwaway "Chanson d'Amour," "Scotch and Soda" and "Polciana."
In about a year, though, I'll probably trade it to a used record dealer for a dollar. After that, if I want to hear old songs.
FM NOT really sorry that "Coming Out" has wormed its way into my collection, right before the show. Martino. I'll troll it out for parties or lazy afternoons when I don't want my ears work too hard.
Bean palate may despair in Lawrence
By PAUL ADDISON
Yuletide areenergy
Staff Writer
Novo juntivo, 232 Kamaz St., holds part of a display arrangement for about 500 Christmas trees Faisley is selling this year. Swinging the hammer is Brian Braman, 232 W. 22nd Terrace. They are both
ONE OF the best cups in town is served at the Casbah Cafe, 803 Massachusetts St., which uses dry roasted Colombian beans, freshly ground for each pot. Pero, a decaffeinated coffee substitute made from barley and rye, is also served.
CAMPUS HIDEAWAY, 106 W. N. Park, and the Mass Street Dell, 941 Massachusetts Are, are Foster fans, but both put more focus on their coffee. The Submarine, 1420 Crescent Road, however, serves a palatable cup of Cain's coffee for a quarter and remains open until 11:30 p.m. Monday through Wednesday and until 1 a.m. over the weekend.
Most students are working harder this week to finish projects and study for finals, and several Lawrence restaurant owners confidently expect that demand for coffee, the king of legal stimulants, will increase for the remainder of the semester.
The Cornucopia café, 1803 Massachusetts St., usually makes a delicious cup from high white cream. It's served in cups there with free refills. Students doing 'all-nighters', however, probably won't find either restaurant very useful. The Casabah Cormorant café, 1750 Massachusetts Coromorant close at 10 p.m.
A Kansan survey of coffee served and sold in Lawrence, however, indicates that, despite coffee's ubiquity, a good cup may be hard to find in the middle of the night. When you want to enjoy coffee food, few manage to brew a cup of coffee that can do justice to the palate.
At the Bay Leaf, 725 Massachusetts St., which sells 10 varieties of coffee to suit the taste of every coomissoire, quality is of the highest priority. All the varieties can be tasted in the store and the beans will be ground on request.
Both Sambos and Country Kitchen remain open 24 hours a day. JB's closes at 10am on weekdays.
SAMBOS, 1511 23d S., serves a standard cup of premeasured dripper filters.
At Country Kitchen, 1400 23rd St. and JB's Big Boys, 740 Iowa St., coffee is of a standardized drip blended variety. Twenty five cents brings an unlimited number of drinks. Ten to 19 cents at McDonalds, 901 23rd St. if you don't mind drinking out of a paper cup.
with refills, costs 25 cents and is guaranteed to arouse one from late-night fatigue.
I'll turn to Mel Torme, Elia Fitzgerald, Billy Holiday or Sarah Vaughan—and I hope you will too.
The Stinky Cheese Shoppe, 84% 23rd x also caters to the coffee specialist and sells teas, sundais, including Honduras, Brazilian,atemalan and blended Mochi Java beans.
This Week's
Nightclubs
Highlights
THE FENTON ROBINSON BLUES BAND plays tonight and tomorrow night from 9 to midnight at Off the Wall Hall. MUSEUM CENTER works FREE FREE FREELY JAM from 7 to midnight. MARSHA PALUDAN and the Lawrence Movement Center Workshop perform dance and mime from 9 to midnight Thursday night at the
THE JOE UTTERBACK TRIO plays 'jazz tonight' from 9 to midnight at Paul Gray's Jazz Place. The GASLITE GANLG plays Dixieland jazz tomorrow night from 9 to midnight, and jazz Ganlg's free JAZZ JAM SESSION, also from 9 to midnight.
THE TOMMY JOHNSON EXPERIMENT plays 'jazz tonight and tomorrow night from 7 to 11 at the Fritzride House Club.
BOB WIRE AND THE OPEN RANGERS play country rock tonight and tomorrow night in the Nest in the Kansas Union.
"HANSEL AND GRETEL," the original Engelbert Humperdink's operatic version of the children's story, is performed by a group of ten actors and Sunday afternoon at I in The Inoe Theatre, Murphy Hall.
Theater
Concerts
CHRISTMAS VESPERS is performed by KU choral groups, and the KU orchestra at 4 and 8 p.m. on Friday and Saturday. The performances will be preceded by outdoor performances on the Memorial Carillon and by a brass choir on the Hohbal chary, at 3:30 p.m. and
COLLEGIUM MUSICIUM,
featuring singers and recorder
players performing Medieval,
Baroque and Renaissance
Exhibits
THE ART OF BUDHISM AND CHINESE SNUFF BOTTLES are on display at the Spooner Museum of Art. Both
music, is Wednesday afternoon at 3:30 in Swarthout Rectal Hall, Murphy Hall.
"FIRE! I FIRE! THE STORY OF JESUS DEPARTMENT 1859-1976." is exhibited in the Kansas Collection at Spencer Research Li-
Films
THE PASSEGGER-Michelangelo Antoinon's mystery has nothing in common with classic horror, and concerns itself with trying to solve a murder, and instead concentrates on the metaphysical questions about the dead man. It is the same question that Marta Schneider.
OBSESSION — Genevieve Builod and Cliff Robertson are the leads in Brian De Palma's situation is out of "Vertigo," but the twins, even though they are entertaining, owe more to De Palma's bizarre sense of humor than to the master of suspense.
NORMAN, IS THAT YOU-A potboler about the sexual revolutions and gyrations of a black family gives Red Foxx the opportunity to induce himself in some imminent that wouldn't happen if they were too risque, but because they're too trite.
Check ads for showtimes.
THE KING OF HEARTS—
Along with "M.A.S.H." this is the most enduring of the anti- war films of the late 60s. With two celebrated shorts, "Bambi and The King," and "Thank You. You Masked Man."
THE EXPLOITS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES, by Adrian Conan Doyle and John Ackerman. With the son of the creator of Sherlock Holmes has collaborated with one of the best writers of detective tales to produce a casebook of Holmes
MURDER MAKES THE WHEELS GO 'ROUND,' by Ema Lathen (Pocket, $1.50)—A John Putnam Thatmacher mystery, by one of the best of the current crop of whores whose autobiography is an executive of a big motor company in Michigan.
Books
THE COLD WAR SWAP, by
Mike Rush. The first success of a hot new
author. A suspense tale in-
volving the game of wits in
the Middle East.
THE CROSS OF FRANK-
ENSTEIN, by Robert J. Myers
(Pocket, $1.75)—A book that
supplies mainly where Mary
would live in Frank-
enstein, left off. Done in
9th-century literary style.
THE FIXER, by Bernard Malamud (Pocket, $2.25) - A celebrated novel, the story of Yakov Bok. Jewish handman in Russia, victim of a pogrom that will haunt you it is a book that will haunt you.
CIRCUS, by Alistair MacLean (Crest, $1.95)—MacLean has become a one-man factory that builds his works could stand closer scrutiny as they move along the assembly
line belts. A bit sloppy, that is, but the stories are always fun. "Circus" is more intrigue stuff, dealing with three aerialist performances that incidentally happen to be refugees from the Iron Curtain. And they are on assignment, to penetrate a castle and retrieve a deadly formula. This one is for the movies, naturally.
RAVENGATE, by Deirdre Rowan (Gold Medal, $1.25); THE NIGHT CHILD, $1.00; THE NONESUCH, by the GONESUCH, by the GEONEY Heyer (Crest, $1.50) THE HEVER (Crest, $1.00) BY Sylvia Thorne (Crest, $1.50) REBEL AGENT, by James Lawrence (Gold Medal, $1.75) Romance, old mansions, rather dumb heroes, rather dumb heroes, historical settings, Ravensgate night. The Night Child is pure Gothic. A girl is in love with one who may be a murderer. The Sword and the Shadow put a headstrong heroine on a ship for a daring man and are mandered by a dashing pirate with whom she falls in love. Rebel Agent is, yes, billed as a carver but also an agent for George Washington, and the villain is out to harm not only the good Whew!
THE GYPSY'S CURSE, by
Theodore G. McKee,
macabre tale, with much sex
and raw goings-on. Many of
the high muck-yacks of criticism
M.A.S.H GOES TO MIAMI,
by Rochard Hoker and William
E. Butterworth (Pocket,
You've been getting worse
and worse since you left that garden spot!