SNL Season 1 Episode 7 [1975)

This is more like it!  Richard Pryor and Gil Scott-Heron!!

Wow!!!  What a combination…

I’ve written about Richard Pryor a bit previously in relation to Brewter’s Millions (in the course of focusing on director Walter Hill).

I knew I liked Pryor, but seeing him do stand-up on SNL convinces me in a whole new way.

What a genius!

Pryor relies heavily on the “drunk man” impression, but the real gem of this episode is his imitation of himself on LSD.

But really, this entire episode is good.

The funniest bit is John Belushi in Samurai Hotel.  It’s really a classic bit!  Belushi knocks it out of the park with his absurdist swordplay.

But the Albert Brooks film…ugh.  Man, this one takes the cake as his worst yet.  Not sure what the point was.  It’s almost like Brooks is going for the high-art humor of Andy Kaufman, but failing miserably at it.  It’s not funny.  It’s not entertaining.  It’s not even sad.  It’s just a compete waste of time and resources.  Well done, Brooks.

But hey…don’t let the Albert Brooks clunker scare you away.  This is one of the finest episodes of Saturday Night Live I’ve yet seen.  We’ll see how it measures up against the rest 🙂

 

-PD

Taxi “Blind Date” [1978)

Thanks to Hulu and CBS (and probably some overly-precious writer somewhere) I wasn’t able to see episode two of Taxi, so I had to skip to episode three.

This one really is a curveball from the pilot.  The overriding theme here is obesity.

Judd Hirsh is wonderful as always, but this episode really benefits from the acting talents of Suzanne Kent.  Kent plays the role of Alex’s (Hirsch) blind date.

Hirsch and Kent really have a magic in this episode which is touching.

On a lighter note, Andy Kaufman really starts to take off in this episode (as in blast off).

We start by hearing Andy sing a song in his mysterious Eurasian language.

Later, Latka (Kaufman) shows off some of the singularly offensive gestures of his mystery culture in an argument with Danny DeVito.

What is great about Taxi is that the scriptwriting is matched by formidable acting talents (particularly Kaufman and Hirsch).  It’s no wonder that America fell in love with this show.  This is entertainment firing on all cylinders.

 

-PD

Roma città aperta [1945)

When I was younger I could take the easy way.

But as I have grown older I have found that increasingly impossible.

In moments of weakness I think of money.  A job.  Adventure.

But none of that really matters.

What matters is our fellow human beings.

Dear friends, this film (Rome, Open City) is an extremely moving experience.

What I try to bring to you as an amateur film critic are the words of a man immersed in the film…baptized…in the experience of each film.

Most pieces of cinema are not worth this effort, but occasionally a film is worth every minute…every second…every tear shed.

Roma città aperta is a masterpiece from director Roberto Rossellini.  This is a very famous film because of the milieu in which it was made.

WWII was not even over.  You can imagine how hard it must have been to get film stock (film for the camera) while Europe was in flames and Italy was a defeated country occupied by the Allies.

But this film tells of Italy occupied by the Nazis (and, indeed, Rome was occupied by the Nazis prior to American occupation).

But all of these descriptions I’m giving you…they mean nothing.

What you must understand about this film is that it did something which no film before it had done.

This film was infused with the sorrow of the World Wars, but was presented as one would present a documentary.

Hence the name neorealism.

Anna Magnani is so beautiful, but not glamorous.  She is beautiful because she is believable.  It takes a philosophical film director to deliver such a performance.  It also takes a hell of an actress!

Roma città aperta is like an opera by Mascagni or Leoncavallo.  Verismo!

Act I ends with Magnani running after her fiancé.  The SS have literally come to take him away.  And her weaving, desperate run became an iconic film moment which wouldn’t be adequately interpolated back into the cinematic discussion till Jean-Paul Belmondo took the entire Rue Campagne-Première to die in À Bout de souffle. 

Godard was young.  À Bout de souffle was his first film.

Godard took the easy way.  Postmodernism.

A bit from here and a bit from there.  Voila!

But later Godard grew a conscience.  And his conscience helped him find himself kicked to the curb of the film industry.

In our film, Aldo Fabrizi is the voice of conscience.

He plays the priest don Pietro.

He’s not your average priest.

This is a guy who stands against the Nazis.

Don Pietro helps the resistance.

Don Pietro gives and gives and gives and asks nothing.

He is a true man of God…a true humanitarian.

He helps anyone in need…atheists, communists, it doesn’t matter.

But one thing is important.

Don Pietro has made a value judgment concerning the Nazis.

He has discerned who the enemy is.

That is a large step.

Today, we are told every day who our enemy is supposed to be.

The worst offender is Fox News, but the other networks (ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN, MSNBC) are all equally devoid of journalistic merit.

As for the print media, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and The Washington Post are completely worthless.

If you lived in Nazi Germany, you would have been bombarded with propaganda about how the Jews were the enemy and how the Jews were responsible for every conceivable ill in society.

That was, of course, untrue.

In America today, we are told (particularly by the infantile Fox News) that Islam and Muslims are the enemy and that every conceivable problem in the world today relates back to this group.

This is, obviously, untrue.

The other three/five networks (ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN, MSNBC) are more eager to push gun control (something which Hitler would no doubt have applauded).

And so, I propose to you, dear readers that what we are seeing in the world today is an array of psychological operations which mirror something about which Italy knows only too well:  Operation Gladio.

But I propose to you that what we are seeing nowadays are multiple Gladios run by gently-warring factions of the New World Order.

The biggest Gladio in operation (a series of false-flag attacks accompanied by fake wars) is the one being run by the neoconservative faction of the New World Order (including several prominent Zionists who, despite holding high U.S. government offices [and Top Secret clearances], held dual citizenship during their terms of service to the U.S. with Israel and the U.S.).  This Gladio brought you the Paris attacks.  This Gladio is responsible for the War “on” Terror (including the synthetic Arab army/marketing confection known as ISIS).  And finally, this Gladio almost certainly brought you the San Bernardino shooting as well.

The main goal of the neoconservative Gladio is endless war.  It is a macro operation.  It operates on the level of geopolitics.  War profiteering, oil, drugs…  The neoconservative Gladio brought you the mother of all false-flags:  9/11.

On the other hand is the liberal Gladio.  The liberal Gladio brought you Sandy Hook (their masterpiece).  Their other suspected jobs are Aurora (the Batman shooter) and Umpqua.  It wouldn’t be a stretch to also include the OKC bombing and the Waco massacre of the Branch Davidians.  But focusing on the first three cases alone (Sandy Hook, Aurora, Umpqua), it is very clear that the liberal Gladio has as its main goal gun control.

The liberal Gladio is operating on a micro (or domestic) level.  The San Bernardino shooting was meant to make Obama look soft on crime.  The neocon gang which engineered the shooting exhibited perfect timing as Obama had recently announced an initiative to reclaim MRAPs from local law enforcement across the country (in response to police abuse of power).  The neocons took a page out of the liberal false-flags-for-gun-control playbook on this one, but the main goal was endless war.  [This, of course, didn’t prevent Obama from trying to leverage the event to prop up HIS faction’s agenda.]

The unfortunate equation is that neither side can expose the deeds of the opposing side because they are both dealing in untruths.  Obama has, up until now, squandered his opportunity to bring the neocons of the Bush administration to task for 9/11 and the fraudulent War “on” Terror.  Indeed, Obama has only proven that he himself is a fraud down to his very core.

The layers-upon-layers of lies in the United States cannot hold.  Snowden pierced the veil.  Only those with a conscience can save us now.

 

-PD

 

SNL Season 1 Episode 6 [1975)

This one ain’t very good either.

Yikes.

It’s really a cost-cutting episode.

Sure, we don’t mind a replay of a good commercial (like the one for Triopenin).

But to replay an Albert Brooks film?!?  And not even the “surgeon for a day” one???

Ugh.

But the cost cutting didn’t stop there.

Again, there’s not really a musical guest this time.

But I do have to tell you why this episode is worth watching.

Two words.

Lily Tomlin.

She is amazing as the host!!!  What talent!  What pizazz!

Her contributions are all pretty stellar.

But let’s get back to that cost cutting.

Howard Shore was already the band leader.

So to have Howard Shore & the All-Nurse Band as the musical guest is really cheap.  Frugal.  Kinda lame.

I mean, it’s a funny bit to see the cross-dressing band members, but it wears pretty thin pretty quickly.

And Lily Tomlin.

She’s an awesome host.  A fabulous actress!  But do we really want to hear her sing “St. James Infirmary”?  Not particularly.

It’s not that she’s a bad singer.  She’s quite good.  And so is Garrett Morris.  And Gilda Radner.  And Chevy Chase.  And Laraine Newman.

But we don’t tune in to hear them sing.  We tune in to see them work their comedic magic.  [Actually, Lily’s duet with the Muppet known as Scred is quite sweet and heartwarming.]

There is, however, a bit of dilettantism which does work in this episode.

And that is, namely, John Belushi as Beethoven.

It is a classic bit.

Belushi really did have a grasp on what made silent films fantastic.

Facial expressions.

And so Beethoven experiments with a little boogie-woogie.

The anachronism of it all makes us grin.  And those are the skits which are the cream rising to the top of this whole affair.

 

-PD

A Woman of Paris [1923)

This is a very sad film from Charlie Chaplin.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Not tragi-comic.  Just plain old sad.

Well-made, but full of pathos throughout.

And why is it such an oddity?

Because Chaplin himself is not in it.  At all.

This was his first attempt at being a serious director.

It was almost his last such effort.

But, alas… (as they say)…Chaplin’s final film was also to not feature himself as an actor (but for a cameo).  That film, A Countess from Hong Kong, bears a striking resemblance from the standpoint of title to the film under consideration.

To wit:

A…Woman…of…Paris

A…Countess…from…Hong Kong

The only difference is that the latter film (from 1966) was a comedy.

But back to the heart-wrenching [sic] film at hand.

It doesn’t tear the heart…doesn’t rend.  No, rather, it indeed twists it (like a piece of laundry before being hung out to dry).

And so most of this film is overwrought.  But an auteur like Chaplin is really incapable of making a bad film.  And in the end we are glad we saw it.  Me.  The royal “we”.

Sure, this film is a massive downer, but there is a sweet message to it.  In other words, it is worth seeing.  It isn’t recommended as a pick-me-up after a long day at work, but under the right circumstances it might really speak to a viewer.

It did, indeed, speak to me.

Edna Purviance is a face worth crying for.  We have cried for her.  Yes.  She ran off without any explanation.  If she’d only stayed on the phone a moment longer…

And so Jean (Carl Miller) begins his sad story.  It takes a long time to become this sad.  It is like the impasto-knife mountains of van Gogh…those little timeless blobs of paint which he shaped into miniature Hokusai waves on the canvas.  That kind of sadness…  Layer upon layer.

And the real focal point is Jean’s mother (played by Lydia Knott).  She is the mother who would understand.  An elopement.  The mother who would play diplomat.  “Go say ‘goodbye’ to your father.”

But she is only human.  Having lost everything, she only has her son left.

Our judgment as humans is clouded.  We give bad advice.  Not purposefully.  There is just a limit to what we know.  We have failed to understand certain things.  These are our shortcomings.

And so Jean doesn’t see the pot of soup on the stove.  Jean doesn’t appreciate his mother who does the grocery shopping.  Jean is too young…and he’s lovesick.

We fixate in romance.  We fall…so deep.  In love.  And it seems like a whirlpool pulling us under.

What a blessing to live!  What a blessing to smile.  Yes, I am sad.  But I try to smile.  Maybe tomorrow.  Maybe tomorrow I won’t be tongue-tied and shy.  Maybe tomorrow the molecules with bounce a different way.  If I am a billiard ball, maybe tomorrow I will glance off the fray at a different angle.  A glance.  Maybe someone will notice me tomorrow.  Not notice me as a freak, but notice me as a kind human being.

It’s all Charlie was trying to say.  Serve others.  Find happiness.  It’s all I’m trying to say.  And do.  I hope the universe will find my efforts humbly acceptable.  In the end.

It’s worth it.  Stay till the end.

 

-PD

 

 

 

SNL Season 1 Episode 5 [1975)

For all those who think Saturday Night Live became less funny over the years (in general, it probably did) this episode is proof that the OG crew was capable of some titanic clunkers.

I didn’t know much of Robert Klein coming into this episode (he is the host), but I was initially impressed with his multi-dimensional wit.  His first monologue is quite good, but gradually his presence on the show wears quite thin indeed.  [Thin as the bathrobe in his goodnight signoff.]

It may not all have been Klein’s fault.  Take for instance ABBA’s “performance” on the show.

I must first preface by saying that ABBA is absolutely the highlight of this episode.  Klein is actually involved in both ABBA numbers.  His presence is really disrespectful towards the musical performers.  Again, maybe it wasn’t his idea to ham up their chance to shine, but it’s an unfortunate bit of fat which should have been trimmed.

To their credit, ABBA are good-natured about the whole thing.  Their first number “S.O.S.” is really a revelation!  Agnetha Fältskog is such a star on the camera (and a great voice).  We learn later (from subtitles) that ABBA was lipsyncing because their vocalless backing tracks failed to arrive from Sweden.  Even so, Benny Andersson is great on the piano and Björn Ulvaeus has a great rocking vibe on the guitar.  After all that, we can’t leave out the dancing contribution of Frida Lyngstad.

It may seem cheesy, but ABBA’s positive music really brought a smile for me.  Seeing them perform made me understand them a bit more.  Also, we must remember that lipsyncing was not unusual on Top of the Pops-style shows of this period (so we shouldn’t judge them too harshly).

That (ABBA), unfortunately, is the best part of this episode.

Laraine Newman is beautiful and hilarious as always, but she doesn’t get a lot of backup this time out.  Her opening skit with Chevy Chase spoofing the Miss America pageant is really quite funny.  [Which reminds me that I forgot to mention an earlier classic bit she did a couple of episodes back as Squeaky Fromme.  That was genius!]

Loudon Wainwright III is really underwhelming in his two short numbers.  I hate to say that.  I wish it wasn’t true.  It’s obvious he has talent.  Maybe it was the repertoire?  Neither of his songs really spoke to me.  It was as bad as a one-man Ween cover band.

Robert Klein proved he didn’t have a tin ear in his musical number “I Can’t Stop My Leg,” but that’s about all he proved.  His presence on the show (to extend the earlier metaphor) was threadbare by that point.

Perhaps SNL just wasn’t the right setting for Klein.  He has a ton of talent…  Maybe it was the whole “live” thing?  Klein really is the first person on this show (five episodes in) to mention that the whole thing is live.  As a performer myself, I know that that makes a BIG difference!

It’s like, “Prepare to be funny in:  5, 4, 3, 2, and commence funniness.”  It’s really not conducive to eased nerves.

Anyway, I don’t know what the problem was with this dud episode.

All of that said, see it (if for no other reason than) for ABBA!

 

-PD

Taxi “Like Father, Like Daughter” [1978)

For those of us who, like me, can’t get enough of Andy Kaufman there is (mercifully) Taxi.

In my readings about Andy it came to my attention that Kaufman didn’t particularly like being on the show.

I can see where he was coming from (I think).  The show must have felt awfully restrictive for such a vast personality like him.

But this is where America at large got to know Andy Kaufman.  Taxi.  And so we shall start (or continue) here.

Andy’s appearances on Saturday Night Live (from its very inception) were inspiring performances which predated his new steady gig as Latka Gravas on Taxi by about three years.

But let’s let everyone get into the act here.

Judd Hirsch:  What a presence!  This guy…  You just immediately like him.  He’s unassuming.  He has a kind face–kind mannerisms.  And so he is, somewhat like Jerry Seinfeld on Seinfeld, the focal point of the show.  Kaufman might be the star for weirdos like me, but Hirsch was no doubt the star for the masses.  What an impressive acting job in this the pilot episode!

Danny DeVito:  Still going strong…the little man in the cage was a classic in his day.  What vigor!  What vitriol!  Yeah, it gave the nation (America) a little taste of New York City life.  Five-feet-tall in platform shoes and he doesn’t take attitude from anyone.  What a scrapper!  What an actor!!

Marilu Henner:  She doesn’t get a chance to do very much acting in the pilot, but I must say:  what a beauty!!!  I had forgotten.  It had never crossed my mind.  In retrospect, she is a revelation.  Kudos to casting for finding such a star!!!  [It should be pointed out that her character is named Elaine (a name picked up later for Seinfeld‘s main female role).]

Tony Danza:  Hey!  Ho!!!  But seriously, really a great role for Danza.  The stereotype would be lifted by the television show Friends later on for their character Joey (played by Matt LeBlanc).  Watch Taxi for the original article.

Jeff Conaway:  The late Mr. Conaway was perfect as Bobby Wheeler.  His “magical” phone call to Sir Laurence Olivier is priceless!!  Conaway helps set the era with his open-chested polyester (?) shirt.  He almost looks like Peter Frampton in this opening episode.

Those were the major players in this pilot episode.  AND we can’t forget the stunning Talia Balsam (who plays Alex’s daughter).

But the real focus is Latka.  For me.  That’s the real focus.

Latka doesn’t have a lot of lines, but he has at least one classic bit:  his effort to flirt with Marilu Henner.

Latka’s pickup line is simply, “Bed?”

Not bad from a guy learning English out of a Berlitz travel guide.

And so our dear little hero Mr. Gravas struggles with some phrases about chambermaids and such.  Fortunately Alex (Judd Hirsch) is helping him with English.  Useful phrases like, “Hold on a minute while I use the can.”  [Or something like that.]

And so we must thank the creators of Taxi for getting Kaufman on the show.  Thank you to James L. Brooks, Stan Daniels, David Davis, and Ed. Weinberger.  Thank you gentlemen for seeing the talent in Andy Kaufman and giving him a chance to have a lasting body of work.

Or as Andy would say, “Tank you veddy much.”

 

-PD

 

City Lights [1931)

Just when you think you can’t go on anymore, and then something happens.

That is a miracle.

Little miracles.

Right place at the right time.

Preparation meets opportunity.

Luck.

If the horseshoe works…if the rabbit’s foot is effective, then you want some extra help going into the ring.

And if the luck is bad, you try to wipe off the effect as with an unwanted kiss.

It’s very hard saying anything enlightening right now.

I’ve trudged up a steep hill.

Today I hit a little plateau.

But it feels like I’m back at the bottom.

Because tomorrow is back to the salt mines.

Ah, but I am lucky.

Right?

I am not a pooper scooper in life’s parade…picking up after the animals.

At least, not literally.

But it all comes down to a rather simple concept.

We go back to where the flower girl was.

We went to jail for her.

And now is only absence.

Time has passed.

And so we wander the streets.

I am the laughing stock.

Easy to pick on.

Try to preserve some decorum.

Bring a laugh to the young people who have futures.

I will not tell you the rest.

Because it is coded in film language.

Why did Charlie act so nice?

Why did he do the right thing?

Why did he go above and beyond?

It was for love.

In real life we may fail, but we too are geniuses of love.

We have gone the extra miles.

And that lost love…as sad as Górecki’s ridiculously-dense counterpoint from his third Symphony.

Sorrowful songs.

Nothing can hurt that bad.

Driving.  Alone.  Empty.

It is all part of “life’s rich pageant,” as Peter Sellers so poignantly said.

It is the same with Chaplin, Sellers.  We laugh, but we are crying.

And so “perchance to dream”…REM sleep.

Tomorrow the birds will sing.

We must keep telling ourselves that until it’s true.

 

-PD

SNL Season 1 Episode 4 [1975)

Ah, the great Nordic beauty Candice Bergen.

The first female host in SNL history (four episodes in).

This is quite a good episode.

But we start off with the first wholehearted attempt at Gerald Ford klutz (clumsy) humor with Chevy Chase.

Yes, before there was the fumbling, bumbling, broken banjo known as George W. Bush, there was Gerald Ford.

The humor had been leaning this way since the start of the season.

And finally Chevy got to do a proper piece (the start to the show, no less).

We also get the Landshark skit in this era of Spielberg-induced panic.

We must remember that Jaws had come out that summer (a few months prior to this show).

But the overwhelming star of this episode was undoubtedly Andy Kaufman (again).

It is the Foreign Man character (which was parlayed into his Taxi success as Latka).

Andy is a revelation here.  Yes, you need to be a little sick in the head to do comedy like Andy Kaufman.

The whole point, I think, was in how much he could get away with.

It was the game.

How far could he push it.

And so Foreign Man almost starts crying.  It is a miracle moment in television.

All great practical jokers (foremost among them Orson Welles) had this ability to suspend disbelief, but Kaufman was doing it live…out on a limb.

An excursion on a wobbly rail (to quote Cecil Taylor).

And so Candice  was right when she introduced Andy as a genius.

Goddamn…

What could follow that?!?

Well, sadly Esther Phillips starts off with a fast number.

Esther was the musical guest.

A fine singing voice, but the most annoying, lingering vibrato I’ve ever heard…like a WWI fighter plane…a machine-gun at the end of every phrase.

She was, no doubt, imitating the Billie Holiday of Lady in Satin (that last, great album of drugged-out soul).

But the problem is that the Billie Holiday vibrato doesn’t work on fast songs.

Yet, Esther uses it anyway.

And so Esther’s first number comes off as a head-tilting performance art oddity equal to Andy Kaufman (only I don’t think she knew it).

But all sins are forgiven later when Esther does a ballad.

Ahh…that’s the right repertoire.

Albert Brooks regresses to the mean with his film in this episode (a mashup of possible bullpen shows for NBC…including the awful-in-all-ways Black Vet).

All in all, this is a fine show.  Aykroyd is great.  Belushi is great.

In fact, the most touching scene is a talk between Gilda Radner and Candice Bergen about femininity/feminism.

Gilda Radner was such a beautiful person…such soul!

What a show!!!

 

-PD