Old Newspaper Clipping: "Trekie" Fights For Mr. Spock

It's impressive, or scary, what I have in the archives. The above is something I stumbled upon recently. From early 1982, this Toronto Sun article is a sampling of the kind of press that the then 'still in production' sequel movie to Star Trek - The Motion Picture was garnering after Paramount Pictures let it be known that the beloved Mr. Spock was about to be killed-off. The producers of Star Trek - The Wrath of Khan* followed through with their plan, despite the hostile reaction from many fans. Personally, I really didn't care. My reaction was more one of: "Fascinating!"


(* While in production the film's title was first Star Trek - The Undiscovered Country then Star Trek - The Vengeance of Khan. The release title came about as there was another film in production at that time which had a similar ring to "Vengeance": Star Wars - The Revenge of the Jedi....)

"The All Night Show" Sample Video

On Monday of last week (February 20th) I posted an article of mine on The All Night Show, a CFMT (Toronto) program which ran from September of 1980 to August of 1981.

Here is a 14-minute sample video of TANS uploaded to YouTube by the gem, retrontario.com:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=vBrBG9eeGFM

My VHS Purge: Dazed and Confused

As part of a downsizing project eight years ago I purged most of my pre-recorded VHS tape collection. I've never been a big collector of movies -- my DVD library is fairly small -- but the fact is I had accumulated around 70 tapes:

Dazed and Confused (1993) The Bloor Cinema, Toronto, January 1993: The house was packed and the audience reaction was one of "I'm having so much fun watching this", which threw me back to 1973 and American Graffiti. A communal screening feeling was Dazed and Confused.

I would have been the age of the film's 'kids'; part of the "freshmen" pack, even if we don't use those decidedly U.S. terms here in Canada (as far as I know). In addition, initiation rites, certainly at the high school level, and most certainly in the mid 1970s, are not a Canadian thing (as far as I've been led to believe).

Richard Linklater is one of those film directors who understands people, what makes them tick, and cultural inter-dynamics flexed by time and place. Dazed and Confused is a retro time capsule, but in an enjoyable motion picture.

My VHS Purge: Annie Hall

As part of a downsizing project eight years ago I purged most of my pre-recorded VHS tape collection. I've never been a big collector of movies -- my DVD library is fairly small -- but the fact is I had accumulated around 70 tapes:

Annie Hall (1977) My favourite new film release that year and my favourite film of 1977. Woody Allen had not entirely left his slapstick behind him when he made Annie Hall, but somehow those loopy little moments work in this story for the people. I remember that opening night; out came a manager: "Folks, the theatre is almost full. There are individual seats, however." Friend Chris and I looked at one another for approval. "Why not, let's go." We found a freakish arrangement of two side-by-side seats. I sat in the corner-most front left seat while he sat immediately to my right.

That, for those who do not remember, or had yet to arrive on this planet, is how anticipated and popular Annie Hall was in 1977. And soon after the film's opening, the character herself, Annie Hall, became a bit of an item. She spawned a clothing line, of sorts: "The Annie Hall Look."

Part of the reason I picked up the VHS was the low price. Such a small price to pay for a great movie.

Somewhere Out There

Four by Three: How We Judge

Artwork: Abandoned Barn in Blustery Weather

Notebook Find: Leon Trotsky on Creativity

While reviewing pages of my notebook, I came across notes I had made regarding the subject of creativity. One particular scribble is of a quote by Marxist revolutionary and writer Leon Trotsky: 

"Artists and writers are all familiar with the semi-trance state, half-sleeping, half-conscious, where the mind is not quite under control and memories and fantasies can reach consciousness. It is a warm comfortable place, free from self-censorship and good behaviour. It is a door to the unconscious mind and fertile ground for artistic production."

(Toronto) Worldwide Short Film Festival Program 2006

My Old Sketchbook: Pen and Ink of Pen and Ink

Article: Memories of Chuck

There are markers in our lives that we remember more often than not with fondness. Memories of the entertainment world make for some strong pull-backs later in life. Popular music, films, and, especially, television programs are penciled into a mnemonic diary, allowing us to get all warm and fuzzy years or decades later when someone at a dinner party states with gleeful nostalgia: "I never missed The Six Million Dollar Man. Eight O'clock on Sunday nights was my special time."

Television programs we watch in our youth and childhood are with us forever, whether we like it or not. ("Gilligan's Island? Never heard of it. I don't know what you're talking about.") However, what often happens is that when we later dip our toes into those same waters, we find the sensation less pleasing or satisfying than what our memories of the experience suggested. Times change and time moves, all but destroying sentimentality in their paths.

Some programs are exempted, of course. For me, one of these survivors is a short-lived live-to-air production by the name of The All Night Show, which ran from September of 1980 to August of 1981 on originating station CFMT (“MTV”, or "Multilingual Television"), UHF channel 47. Having sampled some bits recently – bits are all that survive – I was more than surprised at how reputable my memories of the show were.

Chuck the Security Guard was the host of TANS. The premise was that the station's dependable night-shift security staff of one had the run of the station in the wee hours, the all hours, of the night. The guard with video-switching abilities would run episodes of old television series' like The Outer Limits and The Twilight Zone (they were just 15 years old then), industrial films from some years past, Betty Boop cartoons, old movie trailers, and independent shorts. Having time to kill between the programmed materials, Chuck joked around with the off-screen, never to be seen, Ryerson the Cameraman, and with him staged gags or bits that U.S. late night host David Letterman would popularize coast-to-coast in the following years. There was one bit I remember where the guys trekked from the studio proper to the building's roof. From there they aimed the television camera at a phone booth that was on the opposite side of the street below. Guess what they did....

In reality, Chuck was played by Toronto-based actor, writer, and comedian Chas Lawther. Although reserved in real life (in the interviews I've seen him in), Lawther was having the time of his life while in front of the TANS camera. In his sporty but standard duty uniform and white sneakers, Chuck now bears some resemblance to Pee-Wee Herman. No doubt his slightly lanky build furnishes some of the visual similarities, but, unlike Pee-Wee, Chuck is an adult while still exhibiting some child-like mannerisms and enthusiasms. Watching TANS today convinces me that this way of playing the character was the right one. After all, don't we like it when someone looks as though they are enjoying themselves? The byproduct is we, the viewers, enjoy ourselves.

Occasionally he would be asked, usually through a letter he read on camera, to say hi to someone such as a faithful viewer. To oblige he would stand, take on a professional security guard pose, point, and yell “hey, you”. Chuck's always welcomed call of "hey, you!" quickly became the signature piece, for both the character and the show.

Speaking of characters, the guest stars of Paul Del Stud and Fran the Nurse were always a special treat. You never knew when one of them was going to show up to visit with friend Chuck. Fran seemed to be forever knitting and Paul was perpetually shooting off his mouth about 'this is how it is'. Great stuff for a teenage viewer.

This was the tone of a typical evening with the dynamic security guard and his all night show. Unfortunately, it all came to a crashing halt after one season. The show we slowly but surely discovered and grew quickly to love deeply was canned by the suits at "Chuck's" station, CFMT-MTV. I remember an interview with one of the head honchos soon after he cut the strings. He spoke words of finality I shall never forget: "This station has to start thinking about making money." From a financial standpoint the decision made some sense, perhaps. The fact is that even though we saw only Chuck, and heard only Ryerson, there was a crew in the control room and studio.

I do understand these words, the order in which they are assembled, and what they mean – they are straight to the point, without subtext, and are non elusive or evasive -- but I also understand that when you have a 'hit' like TANS, it can end up paying dividends to the producing company. In fact, media ratings systems at the time pointed out that Chuck was bringing 'em in. The problem for CFMT was that franchise companies, like Pizza Pizza, weren't sure they wanted to buy late-late night advertising slots. For the duration of the show's existence there were lots of commercials for small businesses, which are great and valued customers but they don't pay the big dollars. The All Night Show needed a little more time to build a strong advertising base, stocked with at least one big customer. “Chuck's” solid viewership numbers certainly would have allowed the station's sales department to charge commensurate ad rates, but it was not to be.

CFMT continued to promote the show after the cuts, but without Chuck at the switcher it was not the same. It could not be saved with a line of 'Hey, don't fret, you can still watch your favourite oldies on CFMT's The All Night Show!'. Like many Chuck fans, I tuned into the new version and saw the opening title card; an old series or short came on; I pressed the 'off' button.

Static.

Fizzle.

We dedicated viewers loved the show's original format. It was a major part of its appeal. It was live!

And it still lives.

___

Note: A much "electronically simplified" version of the above piece premiered in Toronto-based writer Greg Woods's print publication The Eclectic Screening Room, issue 21.

Greg's blog: The Eclectic Screening Room

My VHS Purge: Chuck's Choice Cuts

As part of a downsizing project eight years ago I purged most of my pre-recorded VHS tape collection. I've never been a big collector of movies -- my DVD library is fairly small -- but the fact is I had accumulated around 70 tapes:

Chuck's Choice Cuts (1982) As good as this tape is, it's not The All Night Show, the source. Tomorrow, Monday, February 20th, I will be posting an article on "Chuck the Security Guard" and his short-lived late-late night series, so I won't go into any great detail here. The VHS has Chuck, actually Toronto-based actor Chas Lawther, doing the kind of thing he did on TANS: Having some fun in front of the camera and showing an assortment of film shorts such as the Superman and Betty Boob cartoons, music shorts, and old movie trailers. The difference is this production was shot in a tape-house machine room and not in a small television's station control room. Also, the original show was live-to-air, which is quite impossible to do on a pre-recorded videotape. I suppose the best way to mimic The All Night Show experience would be to play this tape starting at 1 o'clock in the morning.

I grabbed Chuck's Choice Cuts in the early 'nineties from After Dark Video on Bathurst Street here in Toronto. The store itself had a fine collection of off-beat videos and a decor to match. (After Dark closed its doors years ago.)

My VHS Purge: Carmina Burana

As part of a downsizing project eight years ago I purged most of my pre-recorded VHS tape collection. I've never been a big collector of movies -- my DVD library is fairly small -- but the fact is I had accumulated around 70 tapes:

Carmina Burana (1990) No, it's not the music from the film The Omen (1976), as the overture to Carmina Burana, "O Fortuna", is so often mistakenly attributed, including by cinema scholar VIncent LoBrutto in his biography on director Stanley Kubrick, for it's the head-banger intro and extro bit to one of the greatest musical masterpieces of the 20th Century.

Written in 1935 and 1936 by German composer Carl Orff, Carmina Burana is a cantata asking for interpretation by dance company or musical group of all mixes.

This VHS tape is of a traditional performance by symphony orchestra and choir: The great conductor Seiji Ozawa leads the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, Shin-Yu Kai Chorus, and Boys Choir of the Staats- Und Domchor, Berlin in a definitive performance of Orff's masterwork. It also doesn't hurt having soprano Kathleen Battle.

Whenever I played this tape my VCR's capstans would rattle.

Hey You! More VHS Purge This Weekend

Titles up to this point in the series, and ready to click: 

Search For Battleship Bismarck
The Superliners: Twilight of an Era 

Doctor Who: The Tomb of the Cybermen
Doctor Who: The Curse of Peladon 

Strategic Air Command
Taxi Driver 

The Brain That Wouldn't Die
A Night to Remember 

The Terminator 
The Mummy (1932)

Set Design: Concepts for "Mr Science" 2

Yesterday I posted some set sketches for a television pilot/demo show that I produced a few years ago. Here are a couple of additional images from the design process:

Set Design: Concepts for "Mr Science"

Last month I wrote a brief piece about a television series pilot/demo show that I produced a few years ago. Mr Science did not have any takers but the process of writing, designing, and producing the one-off was one of those endeavours that I found satisfying on a creative level. There were problems (always), some bumps, but I learned a lot.


The main, and only, standing set was that of a science laboratory. Here is an early concept I sketched:

And here is a floor plan view of that concept:

Eventually, but rather quickly, I finalized my set design. Here is a thumbnail sketch of the floor plan and elevations:

In case the show were to sell, or if I wanted to make the set in a larger scale, I worked out some concepts for something a little more elaborate than what I conceived for the simple pilot show:

Here is a more elaborate version of the design I settled on in that it has a ceiling:

Soon I will post a photograph of the completed set.

Conductor's 8 x 10: André Previn

When I was nineteen or twenty years of age I decided to collect some eight-by-tens of orchestra conductors. Back in the days before the Internet the process of getting mailing addresses for the various orchestras was not too much of a problem: My local library, like most of the kind, had reference books for such a task. I collected several contacts. In the name of good public relations I always got a response; a large size envelope containing an eight-by-ten glossy.

André Previn was one of the few who did not autograph the photo with the all-important prefix, "To Simon". Maybe he was out of town that day. At that time he was in the middle of his tenure as the principal conductor of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra.

He is to kick off my little series because he is André Previn.

Reading Television

Reading about art of all kinds is something I enjoy. What is the backstory behind that painting, sculpture, or piece of music? Having grown up with series television like most people, I was furnished with an interest in reading about that art form, even if it may arguably be a lesser art form. As for books about movies, I devoured Kenneth Macgowan's history of the motion picture, "Behind the Screen", in my first year of high school. Two years later it was Arthur Knight's "The Liveliest Art", with many more to come.

In fact, 'it' started earlier: One of my elementary schools had, filed in its library's racks, copies of "The Making of Star Trek" (Stephen Whitfield) and "The Making of Kubrick's 2001" (Jerome Agel). Due to the popularity of the former, the school library had two copies of its "making of". How complex pieces of entertainment are put together makes for fascinating reading if you are interested in the art and business of film and television. (Films and television programs of the science fiction strain tend to have the making-of books; for obvious reasons, I suppose. Give me a book on the making of All in the Family, someone, please.)

A few years ago I read a book about the original "Doctor Who" series. As it was a television program I watched in my youth it too made for interesting reading. I mentioned the book to a friend of mine who also grew up with Who. As it turned out, he too had read it. He cracked me up when he added: "Very often it's more interesting reading about the show than actually watching it." Very true.

(Contrary to what Globe and Mail television critic John Doyle may think, most television is best enjoyed as a television schedule listing.)

More interesting to me is the history and business of television. It's a form that occasionally, if rarely, pops out a fine dramatic or comedy series. Fighting off Theodore Sturgeon and his pesky "law" is essential. Somehow art is produced.

The Funnel Express at OCAD

On Thursday, February 2nd, I attended a panel discussion at OCAD (Ontario College of Art and Design) titled "Underground: The Untold Story of The Funnel Film Collective" (1977-1988).

Avoiding through accident or by design a strict formality usually associated with such events, the program's guest speakers, former Funnel members of various disciplines, articulated vivaciously stories recounting moments of positive charge and, at times, dissent within the ranks of a grass-roots organization, as absorbing revelation.

To have missed the The Funnel's existence and the exciting dynamics that permeated Toronto-based 1970s/1980s experimental filmmaking and/or exhibition is to be left without a full comprehension of what boundaries could be broken, how expectations could be shattered, in this province by a man or woman armed with confidence and elan and a motion picture camera. Certainly at the time the cooperative gave one the explicit impression that something expressive and valid was happening in the city's independent cinema scene, if not a "movement" in the conventional sense. But steel balls and artistic provocation in a translucent box....

My VHS Purge: Search for Battleship Bismarck

As part of a downsizing project eight years ago I purged most of my pre-recorded VHS tape collection. I've never been a big collector of movies -- my DVD library is fairly small -- but the fact is I had accumulated around 70 tapes:

Search for Battleship Bismarck (1989) Dr Robert Ballard searches for the lost World War II German warship. The pursuit and sinking of the Bismarck is a grand tale of a sea battle between two great naval forces: Britain's Royal Navy and Germany's Kriegsmarine. Search for Battleship Bismarck plays the straight documentary form: Archival footage from the war and battle; interviews with historians, and with men who fought on both sides. The stories are at times moving. One in particular is recounted by former Royal Navy seaman and author Ludovic Kennedy as he reads from his book Pursuit: The Chase and Sinking of the Bismarck: The HMS Dorsetshire's rescuing of German sailors from oil slicked water is abandoned after a lookout spots what appears to be a U-Boat's periscope. Perhaps the most sobering story told in the film is that of a German sailor whose arms had been blown off in the final battle. He tries desperately to stay afloat and to clench a lifeline with his teeth.

Motion picture film shot from the deck of a Royal Navy warship showing the Bismarck in its death throes may be the most potent and 'truthful' footage of the documentary.

Many documentaries have been made about the sinking of the Bismarck, but Search for Battleship Bismarck carries the National Geographic mark of quality.