This is the final chapter.
After Lowell Ganz and I split up, his career flourished, and mine was floundering.
Lowell was immediately hired to be the Show Runner back on "Happy Days"
I beseeched him to hire me as a consultant and let me write episodes for the show.
He did, and told me that I can write "As many episodes as I wanted to".
I began writing episodes, and immediately began garnering more respect from Garry Marshall, and from studio people, not Gary Nardino, who most-likely didn't read them, because he was most-likely illiterate.
But my first drafts were virtually shot as written.
"As many episodes as I wanted to" was turned into a hefty handful, but not nearly as many as I wanted.
Lowell didn't want me to be THAT impressive.
During those two seasons, what with the help of the episodes I wrote, and Lowell still diligently listening to my consulting,
Ron Howard was so impressed with "Lowell's work" on "Happy Days" that he asked him to write the movies he planned to direct.
Of course, I still got no credit for the quality of Lowell's work.
And Lowell was still scared shitless to write by himself.
So he recruited one of the staff writers, one Babaloo Mandel, to write the movies with him.
I once asked Lowell if he did a 50-50 split with Mandel on the money.
He maintained that he did.
Yet, in his Emmys interview, he implied that, at least on "Night Shift", it was less than 50-50.
I had built up a lot of capital with Lowell.
The movies he wrote with Mandel, many of them big hits, were as a result of him spending that capital on Mandel rather than me.
Mandel was a joke writer.
He didn't bring any story sense or construction, or taste, to any of their projects.
Of the movies of theirs that I've seen, the first 45 minutes are usually hilarious, and then stumble across the finish line.
If I had co-written those movies instead of Mandel, there would have been no stumbling.
Usually, someone else is given story credit on their films.
They are not storytellers.
Except for "A League of Their Own", which was based on a true story, so it was just a matter of "Connect the dots".
Mandel's actual name is Marc.
He read "Portnoy's Complaint" by Philip Roth.
In it, one of Portnoy's childhood friends goes down to the courthouse on his 16th birthday, and changes his name to "Babaloo".
So Mandel stole my movie career from me, and his first name from Philip Roth.
Ganz and Mandel also were show runners on a few short-lived series.
I understand from an actress who worked on one of them that when it was time to give the acting notes, that Lowell was still the Captain of that ship, and Mandel had to show as much supplicant deference as I had to all those years.
Okay. Then, I went to work on "The New Odd Couple".
And a very fortunate thing happened:
Laverne and Shirley went off the air, and dump trucks started showing up at my house unloading tons of money.
I was actually seeing money from profit participation from it.
I never knew if I actually would.
James Garner had to take Universal to court over "The Rockford Files"
But "Laverne and Shirley was SUCH a huge hit that it would have been just too embarrassing for the studio to claim that they weren't making money on it.
So as I was working on "The New Odd Couple", accruing my newly found riches, I developed a new philosophy about working.
I would only work on shows that I thought could be good, and shows where the work atmosphere was pleasant.
Otherwise, I'd stay home.
I thought "The New Odd Couple" WAS good.
But about ten episodes into it, it became a very unpleasant work atmosphere.
So I quit.
No hard feelings with the studio or the network.
I had gotten the show on it's feet, which was all they needed from me.
After that, I was offered a litany of shows to run which could only be charitably referred to as "crap".
This figured.
My resume, except for "The Odd Couple" was loaded with shows that hadn't gained any critical respect.
So I kept turning things down.
And if you keep turning down crap, people stop offering you even crap.
And you become known as the guy who keeps turning things down.
Then, I was offered "She's The Sheriff"
I was on the fence about that one.
It sure sounded like crap.
But they sent me the Pilot, and I offered them a lot of ways for it NOT to be crap.
And they were willing to do everything I suggested.
I enjoyed working on it immensely for a year.
Until I realized that I was the only one there who cared about the show being any good.
So with my being respected, and me not respecting the way the show was headed, I left.
And I began writing plays and screenplays, totally enjoying doing that.
And this is why I have this huge hole in my TV resume since 1988.
When Lowell was questioned in the interview about what happened to me after our split, he mentioned the two series I did, and mentioned the plays I had written, in his words "which have toured the country in....dinner theaters".
Not "theatres", but "dinner theaters".
Now, I have nothing against dinner theaters.
I would be pleased to have my plays done in dinner theaters.
But the fact is that my plays have NEVER been performed in venues where food was served.
Nor did I ever tell, or imply, to Lowell, that they HAD been performed in dinner theaters.
He never saw any of my plays.
He made up "dinner theaters".
Now, why would someone make up something like that?
The only reason I can think of is to imply that my plays are not worthy to be performed in legitimate venues.
It was pure mean-spiritedness.
I've mentioned that I don't enjoy writing arbitrary villains.
What I enjoy even less is encountering them and working with them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books, "Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne and Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Friday, September 27, 2013
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Why I Am Not Babaloo Mandel. Part Seven.
After Lowell and I had produced a couple of flop series at Paramount, a new President of Paramount had been brought in.
He had immediately upgraded the cuisine in the commissary, which was reflected in his waistline.
His name was Gary Nardino.
He is no longer with us.
I have it on excellent authority that he gauged the situation between Lowell and me, and then proceeded to make every effort to break us up.
In his eyes, I was a liability.
So, instead of just firing me, which would have cost him considerably more money, he made every effort to get me to quit.
He began picking major fights with me over absolute minutia.
It was like that TV play and movie, written by Rod Serling, called "Patterns"
It was a boardroom drama.
Everett Sloane played the CEO of a company, and he tried to coerce Ed Begley Sr., from middle management, to resign, in order to save the company a lot of money.
Begley took all of Sloane's shit, as I took all of Nardino's shit.
Lowell and I had been in the middle of doing a pilot for each of the three networks.
Lowell had been invited to direct one of the pilots.
I, of course, wasn't.
This pulled me down several rungs of the ladder publicly.
This didn't matter to Lowell one whit.
On the ABC pilot, Nardino was particularly verbally abusive to me.
And I took it, complaining to Lowell about how I was being treated.
In his Emmy interview, he implied that I suggested that we walk off that pilot.
I simply was not that stupid to expect Lowell to show any support for me.
I therefore would NEVER suggest to him that we walk off of the pilot.
What actually happened was that HE suggested that "Maybe we should walk".
I was stunned.
Had I finally turned him in to some semblance of Sam Spade?
I said "Are you sure about this?"
He said "Absolutely!"
And we walked.
They hired two other people to produce the pilot that we had written.
And two days later, he went back to Nardino, apologized to Nardino, in effect kissed his ass, and was back in his good graces.
All of this without telling me about it.
Once again leaving me to twist in the wind, and watch my contract not be renewed, while Lowell's was doubled.
This, I believe, was his main motivation.
To this day, I don't know if Lowell and Nardino were in "Cahoots" or not, but I certainly don't discount the possibility.
In his Emmys interview, Lowell stated that at that point, the studio hated me, and the network hated me.
I don't necessarily think he was wrong.
I know that Nardino hated me. Or at least postured that he did.
But I had no knowledge that the network hated me.
He then asked "What was I supposed to do?
Well, there were other studios, and overtures had been made to us.
And he could have informed me that the network hated me.
He didn't.
I was a Man Without a Country.
All of a sudden, two rather powerful agents began romancing me.
Literally sending be flowers and candy.
They were desperately trying to represent me.
They were putting visions of sugar plum development deals in front of me.
I cautioned them: "I really don't think my future is as rosy as you seem to think it is."
They wouldn't hear of it.
So I signed with them, and immediately got meetings with major heavyweights of TV.
Grant Tinker, Lee Rich, and I forget who else.
One by one, they each put hefty development deals on the table.
The agents were true to their word.
Then, one by one, these deals were just as hastily withdrawn.
All within a week and a half.
Did this kind of thing ever happen to anyone you know?
I was absolutely devastated.
But not necessarily surprised.
I ended up with some crummy deal at Warner Brothers, where they gave up on me as soon as they found out they couldn't get me pilot meetings.
And of course, my new agents blamed ME for all of this.
They even wanted me to return the flowers and the candy.
Garry Marshall then came to my rescue, telling me he was going to hire me as the show runner on "The New Odd Couple".
But he didn't, at first.
Gary Nardino was still running Paramount, and he wanted no part of me.
It took the absolute failure of the show runner and staff they DID hire for Garry Marshall to then force me down Nardino's throat.
ABC was ready to pull the plug after seeing the first and only episode they had shot without me.
I came in, they loved what I did, and ABC began promoting the show heavily.
Even Nardino began embracing me.
Because he finally was able to see what I can do.
And the same network that Lowell claimed hated me, and found me "difficult to work with" (the kiss of death), loved me, and thought I was a pussycat.
But the lasting impression that Lowell made in his interview was that studios and networks hated me and found me difficult to work with.
Thirty-four years later.
He didn't make any pass at updating things.
Why did Lowell do all these things?
I don't think it was anything personal.
He firmly believed that the worse I looked, the better he looked.
Even thirty-four years later.
And that's all that mattered.
And it has become a reflex action with him to take a crap on me whenever possible.
We'll wrap things up next time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books, "Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
He had immediately upgraded the cuisine in the commissary, which was reflected in his waistline.
His name was Gary Nardino.
He is no longer with us.
I have it on excellent authority that he gauged the situation between Lowell and me, and then proceeded to make every effort to break us up.
In his eyes, I was a liability.
So, instead of just firing me, which would have cost him considerably more money, he made every effort to get me to quit.
He began picking major fights with me over absolute minutia.
It was like that TV play and movie, written by Rod Serling, called "Patterns"
It was a boardroom drama.
Everett Sloane played the CEO of a company, and he tried to coerce Ed Begley Sr., from middle management, to resign, in order to save the company a lot of money.
Begley took all of Sloane's shit, as I took all of Nardino's shit.
Lowell and I had been in the middle of doing a pilot for each of the three networks.
Lowell had been invited to direct one of the pilots.
I, of course, wasn't.
This pulled me down several rungs of the ladder publicly.
This didn't matter to Lowell one whit.
On the ABC pilot, Nardino was particularly verbally abusive to me.
And I took it, complaining to Lowell about how I was being treated.
In his Emmy interview, he implied that I suggested that we walk off that pilot.
I simply was not that stupid to expect Lowell to show any support for me.
I therefore would NEVER suggest to him that we walk off of the pilot.
What actually happened was that HE suggested that "Maybe we should walk".
I was stunned.
Had I finally turned him in to some semblance of Sam Spade?
I said "Are you sure about this?"
He said "Absolutely!"
And we walked.
They hired two other people to produce the pilot that we had written.
And two days later, he went back to Nardino, apologized to Nardino, in effect kissed his ass, and was back in his good graces.
All of this without telling me about it.
Once again leaving me to twist in the wind, and watch my contract not be renewed, while Lowell's was doubled.
This, I believe, was his main motivation.
To this day, I don't know if Lowell and Nardino were in "Cahoots" or not, but I certainly don't discount the possibility.
In his Emmys interview, Lowell stated that at that point, the studio hated me, and the network hated me.
I don't necessarily think he was wrong.
I know that Nardino hated me. Or at least postured that he did.
But I had no knowledge that the network hated me.
He then asked "What was I supposed to do?
Well, there were other studios, and overtures had been made to us.
And he could have informed me that the network hated me.
He didn't.
I was a Man Without a Country.
All of a sudden, two rather powerful agents began romancing me.
Literally sending be flowers and candy.
They were desperately trying to represent me.
They were putting visions of sugar plum development deals in front of me.
I cautioned them: "I really don't think my future is as rosy as you seem to think it is."
They wouldn't hear of it.
So I signed with them, and immediately got meetings with major heavyweights of TV.
Grant Tinker, Lee Rich, and I forget who else.
One by one, they each put hefty development deals on the table.
The agents were true to their word.
Then, one by one, these deals were just as hastily withdrawn.
All within a week and a half.
Did this kind of thing ever happen to anyone you know?
I was absolutely devastated.
But not necessarily surprised.
I ended up with some crummy deal at Warner Brothers, where they gave up on me as soon as they found out they couldn't get me pilot meetings.
And of course, my new agents blamed ME for all of this.
They even wanted me to return the flowers and the candy.
Garry Marshall then came to my rescue, telling me he was going to hire me as the show runner on "The New Odd Couple".
But he didn't, at first.
Gary Nardino was still running Paramount, and he wanted no part of me.
It took the absolute failure of the show runner and staff they DID hire for Garry Marshall to then force me down Nardino's throat.
ABC was ready to pull the plug after seeing the first and only episode they had shot without me.
I came in, they loved what I did, and ABC began promoting the show heavily.
Even Nardino began embracing me.
Because he finally was able to see what I can do.
And the same network that Lowell claimed hated me, and found me "difficult to work with" (the kiss of death), loved me, and thought I was a pussycat.
But the lasting impression that Lowell made in his interview was that studios and networks hated me and found me difficult to work with.
Thirty-four years later.
He didn't make any pass at updating things.
Why did Lowell do all these things?
I don't think it was anything personal.
He firmly believed that the worse I looked, the better he looked.
Even thirty-four years later.
And that's all that mattered.
And it has become a reflex action with him to take a crap on me whenever possible.
We'll wrap things up next time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books, "Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Monday, September 23, 2013
Why I Am Not Babaloo Mandel. Part Six.
Last time, I promised you other ways that Lowell humiliated me in public.
Here goes:
I was once standing next to him when he was talking to some of the writers and other producers of one of the shows we were working on, and he said to them "Sometimes I really feel bad for Mark. I talk so fast that nobody gets to see what he does".
So he was aware of the problem.
But he never once asked me in private how I felt about it.
He simply implied to me and the others that it was the only way anyone could work with him, and he couldn't have anyone challenge him about it.
We were once returning from a Sunday afternoon softball game in a carload of other writers.
Lowell handed me a script, and said "Mark, whenever you're worried about what it would be like writing by yourself, just look at this script. This guy has major credits, it's the worst thing I've ever read, and he gets regular work."
Good. So now he was comparing my potential solo work to that of the writer of the worst script he has ever read.
In front of five other writers.
We would go to network meetings, where he would unravel his mouth and do a verbal tarantella on their collective heads.
We'd sell them the pilot idea that we were there to pitch, and they would figuratively carry Lowell around the room on their shoulders. As they were putting him back down, they would look at me and say, with utmost insincerity, "You were good too."
This was the beginning of my image being cultivated with the networks.
And on the way down, on the elevator, Lowell was always in a celebratory mood.
There was never any "Mark, I'm sorry I didn't let you say anything."
Just jubilation.
I'm saving the best for last:
We always had first cut screenings of the previous week's episode that was shot.
All the writers were invited to them, and they all came.
Every week.
The shows usually came in at five minutes too long, and had to be pared down.
Lowell, of course, always gave the notes out loud, and I do mean loud, to the editors, with the script rolled up in his hand.
Again, I was relegated to the back seat.
We always booked the screening room for an hour.
It was always enough time to conduct business.
The rental of the screening rooms came out of the show's budgets, so we really couldn't linger too long in there.
Once, we had booked a screening room for noon.
Lowell had not shown up.
I gave him the courtesy of waiting twenty minutes, which is more courtesy than he ever would have given me.
He still hadn't shown up.
I then gave the projectionist the cue to start rolling the film.
I couldn't wait any longer.
I'd give the notes.
With the rolled up script in MY hand.
Finally, I was going to be able to at least show the writers that there is something I could do at least as well as Lowell.
Perhaps not as loudly, but as well.
A half-hour later, Lowell still not having shown up, I was now ready to give the editor my notes.
As I was about to begin, Lowell waltzed into the screening room.
I informed him that we already ran the film, and that I was about to give the editing notes.
Without responding to me, he pulled the rolled up script out of my hands and began giving the editing notes.
For a first cut that he hadn't seen.
Proving to all assembled that he could do a better job of editing a film that he hadn't seen than I could with a film I HAD seen.
And I didn't make a fuss.
I simply let him do it.
Because he held my career by a string more than ever before, and he would not accept being challenged.
As a gentleman, I will not tell you what I wanted to do to him with that rolled up script
This instance set the tone for my relationships with the writers and the editors.
So, did I have any reaction to these humiliations?
Being that I couldn't confront Lowell about them, I began to take it out on everyone else who worked for me.
I started yelling at people.
Mostly the other writers, who didn't think I could write, and thus hated me, and our secretaries, who then just hated me on general principles.
In retrospect, I couldn't blame them, and have made several attempts over the years to make amends.
Usually to no avail.
Next time, the beginning of my breakup with Lowell.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books, "Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Here goes:
I was once standing next to him when he was talking to some of the writers and other producers of one of the shows we were working on, and he said to them "Sometimes I really feel bad for Mark. I talk so fast that nobody gets to see what he does".
So he was aware of the problem.
But he never once asked me in private how I felt about it.
He simply implied to me and the others that it was the only way anyone could work with him, and he couldn't have anyone challenge him about it.
We were once returning from a Sunday afternoon softball game in a carload of other writers.
Lowell handed me a script, and said "Mark, whenever you're worried about what it would be like writing by yourself, just look at this script. This guy has major credits, it's the worst thing I've ever read, and he gets regular work."
Good. So now he was comparing my potential solo work to that of the writer of the worst script he has ever read.
In front of five other writers.
We would go to network meetings, where he would unravel his mouth and do a verbal tarantella on their collective heads.
We'd sell them the pilot idea that we were there to pitch, and they would figuratively carry Lowell around the room on their shoulders. As they were putting him back down, they would look at me and say, with utmost insincerity, "You were good too."
This was the beginning of my image being cultivated with the networks.
And on the way down, on the elevator, Lowell was always in a celebratory mood.
There was never any "Mark, I'm sorry I didn't let you say anything."
Just jubilation.
I'm saving the best for last:
We always had first cut screenings of the previous week's episode that was shot.
All the writers were invited to them, and they all came.
Every week.
The shows usually came in at five minutes too long, and had to be pared down.
Lowell, of course, always gave the notes out loud, and I do mean loud, to the editors, with the script rolled up in his hand.
Again, I was relegated to the back seat.
We always booked the screening room for an hour.
It was always enough time to conduct business.
The rental of the screening rooms came out of the show's budgets, so we really couldn't linger too long in there.
Once, we had booked a screening room for noon.
Lowell had not shown up.
I gave him the courtesy of waiting twenty minutes, which is more courtesy than he ever would have given me.
He still hadn't shown up.
I then gave the projectionist the cue to start rolling the film.
I couldn't wait any longer.
I'd give the notes.
With the rolled up script in MY hand.
Finally, I was going to be able to at least show the writers that there is something I could do at least as well as Lowell.
Perhaps not as loudly, but as well.
A half-hour later, Lowell still not having shown up, I was now ready to give the editor my notes.
As I was about to begin, Lowell waltzed into the screening room.
I informed him that we already ran the film, and that I was about to give the editing notes.
Without responding to me, he pulled the rolled up script out of my hands and began giving the editing notes.
For a first cut that he hadn't seen.
Proving to all assembled that he could do a better job of editing a film that he hadn't seen than I could with a film I HAD seen.
And I didn't make a fuss.
I simply let him do it.
Because he held my career by a string more than ever before, and he would not accept being challenged.
As a gentleman, I will not tell you what I wanted to do to him with that rolled up script
This instance set the tone for my relationships with the writers and the editors.
So, did I have any reaction to these humiliations?
Being that I couldn't confront Lowell about them, I began to take it out on everyone else who worked for me.
I started yelling at people.
Mostly the other writers, who didn't think I could write, and thus hated me, and our secretaries, who then just hated me on general principles.
In retrospect, I couldn't blame them, and have made several attempts over the years to make amends.
Usually to no avail.
Next time, the beginning of my breakup with Lowell.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books, "Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Friday, September 20, 2013
Why I Am Not Babaloo Mandel. Part Five.
I'm guessing that most, if not all of you have seen the movie "The Maltese Falcon", starring Humphrey Bogart as Private Detective Sam Spade.
It's a movie that Lowell and I must have seen at least twenty times.
Probably at least five times together.
In it, Spade's partner, Miles Archer, played by Jerome Cowan, is killed off in the first reel.
Spade then becomes consumed with finding out who killed Miles.
Along the way, he runs into a group of people seeking the whereabouts of "The Black Bird".
One of these people is Brigid O'Shaughnessy, who becomes Spade's love interest in the film.
Brigid O'Shaughnessy is played by Mary Astor.
Eventually, Spade figures out that Brigid herself is the person who killed Miles.
Pardon my lack of a spoiler alert, but if you've never seen this movie and you read my blog, you should be ashamed of yourself.
Spade is torn about turning Brigid over to the police, in which case, more likely than not, she'd "Hang by her pretty little neck".
Brigid, pleading for her life, plays the "You love me" card, to which Spade replies "It doesn't matter who loves who. When you have a partner, and something happens to him, you've got to do something. I don't know why. You've just got to. It's part of the Code."
And he turns Brigid over to the cops.
I've always thought of myself as someone who adhered to Sam Spade's code.
Lowell Ganz never did.
Whenever anything ever happened to me, and things happened quite often, Lowell never lifted a finger.
He was no Sam Spade.
I made several efforts to show him that he should be.
What he was, in fact, was Brigid O'Shaughnessy.
I've always felt that he was looking for ways to rub ME out.
When we worked on "Laverne & Shirley", and early on, everyone was looking past me to look at and listen to Lowell, we had a first table reading of a script.
Lowell and Cindy Williams had "Major artistic differences" about it, which led to a major shouting match between the two of them, which led to Lowell and me getting very publicly fired.
Me, who hadn't opened his mouth during the entire proceedings.
Because the show was such an enormous hit, everything that took place was in a fishbowl, that everyone could look into.
So our firing made the newspapers.
Not only the trade papers.
The actual newspapers.
A reporter from the L.A. Times called our office, as we were in the process of cleaning out our desks.
Actually, there was only one desk.
His.
We always only had one desk.
His.
Lowell didn't want to take the call from the reporter.
I took the call.
And in an attempt to be Sam Spade when something happened to his partner, I defended Lowell, and blamed the entire debacle on Cindy and Penny, referring to them in very unflattering terms.
I didn't believe a word of what I was saying.
Lowell knew that he was wrong in his argument with Cindy.
I knew he was wrong.
But he was my partner, and I had to do something.
That's the code.
And the article in the L.A. Times quoted me accurately.
Lowell never thanked me for this.
He never even knew that he was SUPPOSED to thank me.
There were other instances of him needing me to cover his back.
And he subjected me to it, without any warning, putting me on the spot.
As if he expected me to do it.
And I always came through.
With never an acknowledgement, or a word of thanks, by him.
It was a one-way street.
He and I then went on to do another series, "Busting Loose", during which he was asked to come back and run "Laverne & Shirley"
Without me.
The girls hadn't forgiven me for trashing them in public.
I tagged along as a "Consultant", after pointing out to him that I was still his partner, and that he owed me for my publicly deflecting the blame for our getting fired from there in the first place, and being left to twist in the wind for it.
He initially resisted, saying that only HE was asked to come back. Not me.
But he relented.
And upon our return, Lowell had admonished me that I was not to ever address the girls personally.
Like I ever had the opportunity to do that in the first place.
Based on past and subsequent history, I am convinced that this was his idea.
Not theirs.
So I was now being subjected to working on two series at the same time where everyone was looking past me to look at and listen to Lowell.
Cindy and I are now very good friends, and after participating in a staged public reading of one of my plays, she is now dazzled by my writing, has provided the Forewords for most of my books, and looks directly at me.
Next time, several examples of how Lowell seemed to go out of his way to humiliate me in public and not be Sam Spade, that were all considerably worse than what I have already described.
If I sound like a crybaby, I'm sorry.
But sometimes, dredging up the memories of this stuff still makes me cry like a baby.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books, "Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
It's a movie that Lowell and I must have seen at least twenty times.
Probably at least five times together.
In it, Spade's partner, Miles Archer, played by Jerome Cowan, is killed off in the first reel.
Spade then becomes consumed with finding out who killed Miles.
Along the way, he runs into a group of people seeking the whereabouts of "The Black Bird".
One of these people is Brigid O'Shaughnessy, who becomes Spade's love interest in the film.
Brigid O'Shaughnessy is played by Mary Astor.
Eventually, Spade figures out that Brigid herself is the person who killed Miles.
Pardon my lack of a spoiler alert, but if you've never seen this movie and you read my blog, you should be ashamed of yourself.
Spade is torn about turning Brigid over to the police, in which case, more likely than not, she'd "Hang by her pretty little neck".
Brigid, pleading for her life, plays the "You love me" card, to which Spade replies "It doesn't matter who loves who. When you have a partner, and something happens to him, you've got to do something. I don't know why. You've just got to. It's part of the Code."
And he turns Brigid over to the cops.
I've always thought of myself as someone who adhered to Sam Spade's code.
Lowell Ganz never did.
Whenever anything ever happened to me, and things happened quite often, Lowell never lifted a finger.
He was no Sam Spade.
I made several efforts to show him that he should be.
What he was, in fact, was Brigid O'Shaughnessy.
I've always felt that he was looking for ways to rub ME out.
When we worked on "Laverne & Shirley", and early on, everyone was looking past me to look at and listen to Lowell, we had a first table reading of a script.
Lowell and Cindy Williams had "Major artistic differences" about it, which led to a major shouting match between the two of them, which led to Lowell and me getting very publicly fired.
Me, who hadn't opened his mouth during the entire proceedings.
Because the show was such an enormous hit, everything that took place was in a fishbowl, that everyone could look into.
So our firing made the newspapers.
Not only the trade papers.
The actual newspapers.
A reporter from the L.A. Times called our office, as we were in the process of cleaning out our desks.
Actually, there was only one desk.
His.
We always only had one desk.
His.
Lowell didn't want to take the call from the reporter.
I took the call.
And in an attempt to be Sam Spade when something happened to his partner, I defended Lowell, and blamed the entire debacle on Cindy and Penny, referring to them in very unflattering terms.
I didn't believe a word of what I was saying.
Lowell knew that he was wrong in his argument with Cindy.
I knew he was wrong.
But he was my partner, and I had to do something.
That's the code.
And the article in the L.A. Times quoted me accurately.
Lowell never thanked me for this.
He never even knew that he was SUPPOSED to thank me.
There were other instances of him needing me to cover his back.
And he subjected me to it, without any warning, putting me on the spot.
As if he expected me to do it.
And I always came through.
With never an acknowledgement, or a word of thanks, by him.
It was a one-way street.
He and I then went on to do another series, "Busting Loose", during which he was asked to come back and run "Laverne & Shirley"
Without me.
The girls hadn't forgiven me for trashing them in public.
I tagged along as a "Consultant", after pointing out to him that I was still his partner, and that he owed me for my publicly deflecting the blame for our getting fired from there in the first place, and being left to twist in the wind for it.
He initially resisted, saying that only HE was asked to come back. Not me.
But he relented.
And upon our return, Lowell had admonished me that I was not to ever address the girls personally.
Like I ever had the opportunity to do that in the first place.
Based on past and subsequent history, I am convinced that this was his idea.
Not theirs.
So I was now being subjected to working on two series at the same time where everyone was looking past me to look at and listen to Lowell.
Cindy and I are now very good friends, and after participating in a staged public reading of one of my plays, she is now dazzled by my writing, has provided the Forewords for most of my books, and looks directly at me.
Next time, several examples of how Lowell seemed to go out of his way to humiliate me in public and not be Sam Spade, that were all considerably worse than what I have already described.
If I sound like a crybaby, I'm sorry.
But sometimes, dredging up the memories of this stuff still makes me cry like a baby.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books, "Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Why I Am Not Babaloo Mandel. Part Four.
Last time, I indicated that, as a result of my meetings with Lowell and Garry Marshall in Garry's office, where I rarely had the opportunity to open my mouth, I felt that Garry really didn't know what to make of me.
My first inkling that he at least STARTED to know what to make of me was when I occasionally offered suggestions in those office sessions designed to make the show more mature. More adult.
A show about two middle-aged men with real problems.
He knew that I didn't much care for the sillier episodes that we had to do sometimes, like when Felix and Oscar went on "Let's Make A Deal" for no particularly good reason.
At one point, he looked at me, with my enormous afro, in my moth-eaten sweatshirt, and my blue jeans with holes in the knees, and said "Most writers I've dealt with live like adults and write like sophomores. You live like a sophomore, and write like an adult."
I was 24 at the time. Perhaps that made it excusable.
But I'd say that I lived like a sophomore until I was at least 29.
The MAJOR breakthrough with Garry, the thing that I think caused him to offer me a job as the Show Runner on one of his shows without Lowell for the first time, didn't occur until the middle of our first season producing "Laverne & Shirley".
We were in rehearsal for an episode about the girls trying out for the annual Shotz Brewery Talent Show.
The premise was that the woman running the talent show couldn't stand either Laverne or Shirley. For no particular reason.
And she went out of her way to make their lives miserable.
This is the sort of character that I've often referred to as "The arbitrary villain"
I've always hated having to write arbitrary villains.
We had to write them all the time on "Happy Days".
There always had to be an arbitrary villain with no redeeming features that Fonzie could give his comeuppance to.
I would always try to lobby to give these characters three-dimensionality.
Couldn't a villain have some redeeming feature?
It's not that arbitrary villains don't exist.
They do.
But for the most part, they are not interesting.
Okay. I'll give you Hannibal Lechter.
But he is far more the exception than the rule.
Anyway, I always got outvoted, and ended up having to write a lot of arbitrary villains.
So the arbitrary villain running the talent show came up with a way to fix Laverne and Shirley's respective wagons.
She would allow them to perform a calypso number, "Jamaica Farewell" in the Talent Show.
What she neglected to tell them was that while they would be performing their number, a line of men, topless, wearing female wigs and grass hula skirts, would enter behind them, one by one, from Stage Left to Stage Right, essentially mocking the girls as they were singing.
A group of men like this were somewhat commonly known as "The Pig Sisters".
For a joke like this to work, it required that you count on performers known as "Extras"
People who were usually used as background, and usually never spoke, except occasionally in unison.
You could virtually never count on an extra to be funny.
If an extra could prove that he was funny, he'd probably become an entire actor.
But we did have an extra that we used all the time.
I never ever heard him talk, but he was a walking sight gag.
He was this huge, obese, black man, who looked particularly funny when he was topless, appearing to have almost female sized breasts, in a female wig, and a grass hula skirt.
His name was Jolly Brown.
We always knew that we could count on Jolly Brown to get his laughs.
So they do the Wednesday run through, primarily for the writers.
I think that Jerry Paris directed this episode.
As inventive as Jerry Paris was, I always found him to be somewhat lacking in visual sense.
We get to the "Pig Sisters" scene.
The girls start singing "Jamaica Farewell"
The Pig Sisters begin filing in behind them.
Jolly Brown is the fourth one out of the chute.
The scene dies like a dog.
Nobody laughs.
Nobody should have laughed, because it wasn't funny.
Nobody could figure out why the scene didn't work.
Except me.
I knew immediately.
And for one of the first times in my career, I spoke up, out loud, in public.
I said "This scene will work. All you have to do is move Jolly Brown to the head of the line.
That way, the audience will know when to laugh.
Without that, they won't."
They reblocked it that way, and the scene played like gangbusters.
Garry called me into his office, and said "In a hundred years, I never would have dreamed that the fix was to put Jolly Brown at the head of the line".
It was the first time he was exposed to the little man inside me.
This certainly made a difference in my relationship with Garry, but it was still a rather isolated incident.
Too much time was still spent with Lowell, where things never changed, and still became more and more damaging to me.
Until next time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
My first inkling that he at least STARTED to know what to make of me was when I occasionally offered suggestions in those office sessions designed to make the show more mature. More adult.
A show about two middle-aged men with real problems.
He knew that I didn't much care for the sillier episodes that we had to do sometimes, like when Felix and Oscar went on "Let's Make A Deal" for no particularly good reason.
At one point, he looked at me, with my enormous afro, in my moth-eaten sweatshirt, and my blue jeans with holes in the knees, and said "Most writers I've dealt with live like adults and write like sophomores. You live like a sophomore, and write like an adult."
I was 24 at the time. Perhaps that made it excusable.
But I'd say that I lived like a sophomore until I was at least 29.
The MAJOR breakthrough with Garry, the thing that I think caused him to offer me a job as the Show Runner on one of his shows without Lowell for the first time, didn't occur until the middle of our first season producing "Laverne & Shirley".
We were in rehearsal for an episode about the girls trying out for the annual Shotz Brewery Talent Show.
The premise was that the woman running the talent show couldn't stand either Laverne or Shirley. For no particular reason.
And she went out of her way to make their lives miserable.
This is the sort of character that I've often referred to as "The arbitrary villain"
I've always hated having to write arbitrary villains.
We had to write them all the time on "Happy Days".
There always had to be an arbitrary villain with no redeeming features that Fonzie could give his comeuppance to.
I would always try to lobby to give these characters three-dimensionality.
Couldn't a villain have some redeeming feature?
It's not that arbitrary villains don't exist.
They do.
But for the most part, they are not interesting.
Okay. I'll give you Hannibal Lechter.
But he is far more the exception than the rule.
Anyway, I always got outvoted, and ended up having to write a lot of arbitrary villains.
So the arbitrary villain running the talent show came up with a way to fix Laverne and Shirley's respective wagons.
She would allow them to perform a calypso number, "Jamaica Farewell" in the Talent Show.
What she neglected to tell them was that while they would be performing their number, a line of men, topless, wearing female wigs and grass hula skirts, would enter behind them, one by one, from Stage Left to Stage Right, essentially mocking the girls as they were singing.
A group of men like this were somewhat commonly known as "The Pig Sisters".
For a joke like this to work, it required that you count on performers known as "Extras"
People who were usually used as background, and usually never spoke, except occasionally in unison.
You could virtually never count on an extra to be funny.
If an extra could prove that he was funny, he'd probably become an entire actor.
But we did have an extra that we used all the time.
I never ever heard him talk, but he was a walking sight gag.
He was this huge, obese, black man, who looked particularly funny when he was topless, appearing to have almost female sized breasts, in a female wig, and a grass hula skirt.
His name was Jolly Brown.
We always knew that we could count on Jolly Brown to get his laughs.
So they do the Wednesday run through, primarily for the writers.
I think that Jerry Paris directed this episode.
As inventive as Jerry Paris was, I always found him to be somewhat lacking in visual sense.
We get to the "Pig Sisters" scene.
The girls start singing "Jamaica Farewell"
The Pig Sisters begin filing in behind them.
Jolly Brown is the fourth one out of the chute.
The scene dies like a dog.
Nobody laughs.
Nobody should have laughed, because it wasn't funny.
Nobody could figure out why the scene didn't work.
Except me.
I knew immediately.
And for one of the first times in my career, I spoke up, out loud, in public.
I said "This scene will work. All you have to do is move Jolly Brown to the head of the line.
That way, the audience will know when to laugh.
Without that, they won't."
They reblocked it that way, and the scene played like gangbusters.
Garry called me into his office, and said "In a hundred years, I never would have dreamed that the fix was to put Jolly Brown at the head of the line".
It was the first time he was exposed to the little man inside me.
This certainly made a difference in my relationship with Garry, but it was still a rather isolated incident.
Too much time was still spent with Lowell, where things never changed, and still became more and more damaging to me.
Until next time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Why I Am Not Babaloo Mandel. Part Three.
After we won our College Sketch Trophy, My father generously offered to help us become professional writers by passing on our material to his Limousine customers, who were guests on TV talk shows that he serviced.
This is covering old ground.
I noticed two things as a result:
Lowell became a lot nicer to me.
But when I showed him a 14 page magazine article I had written by myself, which I knew was really funny, and had quality, he dismissed it as being "One joke".
Others had read it, and had laughed hard on each of the fourteen pages.
But to him, it was "one joke"
I knew better.
Why did these two things happen?
They are inter-related.
It was all political.
He was nicer to me because I now represented a genuine opportunity for employment.
He dismissed the fourteen page article as "one joke" because he wanted me to feel dependent on him.
That I couldn't write by myself.
Of course, I was too politically naïve to recognize this at the time.
So we supplied material to various celebrities with TV shows, through my father, and landed the "Odd Couple" job pretty quickly.
Thus began a continuing endless saga of "People looking past Mark to get to look at and listen to Lowell".
I described Lowell as the best and fastest oral-verbal writer anyone has ever encountered.
This was very showy.
At the beginning, he wrote a lot funnier than I did.
But I wrote more intelligently.
It was also the beginning of what I describe as "Ganz Wrangling"
When he and I wrote together in our office, he was, in effect, a bucking bronco.
I had to ride him.
He would flail off in every direction, dispensing wit and shit.
It was my job to accentuate the wit and eliminate the shit.
It was easy to do.
Because I had taste, and he didn't.
So I did it with intelligence.
At rodeos, the bucking broncos are not the ones that win the prize money.
That's what goes to the riders that stay on them.
I once described "The little man inside me" that instinctively told me what would work on the page and the stage.
Much like Edward G. Robinson, playing an insurance investigator in the film noir classic "Double Indemnity", described the "little man" inside him, who could always spot a phony claim.
Nyaahh, see??
And Lowell relied on me and my little man totally for our collective intelligence and taste.
So my contribution was all done in the shadows.
Nobody saw my little man except him.
And by the time I filtered out the shit for him, he was ready to go out in public and dazzle people with the filtered wit.
That little man was first in evidence when we won our college sketch trophy.
The two guys who ran the completion watched one of our rehearsals and, as a result, begged and pleaded with us to withdraw from the competition.
That's how big an embarrassment they thought we'd be.
And I said to the main guy, "Sheldon, you don't understand something. We not only won't drop out, but we are going to win this thing."
How did I know this?
At the time, I didn't have a clue.
But I knew that we would win.
I knew that we were doing professional work, and that we were up against amateurs.
In retrospect, I now know that it was the result of the very first conversation I had with the little man inside me.
Once we began working on the Odd Couple, Lowell never wanted me to open my mouth in public.
I wanted to.
In his interview, he implied that I didn't want to.
I did.
Any time I tried, he'd cut me off.
Or talked even faster, so I couldn't compete.
Soon enough, I stopped trying.
We were so successful, so early, that I didn't want to rock the boat.
And I didn't realize how much it was hurting me.
He made such an overwhelming impression with his mouth, that I was soon relegated to the back seat.
Once we became Head Writers on "The Odd Couple", the first indication of my being looked past to get to Lowell was in Garry Marshall's office.
What should have been a trialogue invariably turned into a dialogue.
Between Lowell and Garry.
With Garry grabbing the reins of the bucking bronco.
Garry also had that little man inside of him.
He kept Lowell on story, which is what I did with Lowell in our office.
A bucking bronco doesn't need two riders.
So I was just left there to watch the rodeo.
I think it was the beginning of Lowell's self-proclaimed love affair with Garry.
It took a long time for Garry to figure out what to make of me.
This then extended to our writing staff, who were just as intimidated by Lowell as I was.
They weren't intimidated my me, because I didn't seem to do anything.
They weren't there in the shadows, where I was Ganz Wrangling.
And the Ganz Wrangling was at the cost of my own writing style.
I was accommodating HIS writing style, and we certainly turned out some great work together, but I never had the opportunity to write by myself, by just working with a yellow legal pad, in longhand, which I knew I could do, at least as well as whatever he could do by himself.
Perhaps less jokily than he could, but far more intelligently.
I made some minor noise about writing some scripts by myself, but Lowell was very discouraging about it.
And again, I didn't want to rock the boat.
Once we went on to be Producers on "Happy Days", and "Laverne and Shirley", Lowell pretty much made it mandatory that he was to be the public voice in ALL situations---Giving acting notes, editing notes, running the writers room.
Giving more people the opportunity to look past me to look at and listen to, him.
He demanded deference.
Or at least it was implied that he demanded deference.
By this point, it was pretty clear to me that he held my career by a string, sittin' on a rainbow.
And that he could end it with one snip of the scissors.
I was at his mercy, and I am convinced that he knew it.
This is as far as I want to go with this today.
Until next time, and there certainly will be a next time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
This is covering old ground.
I noticed two things as a result:
Lowell became a lot nicer to me.
But when I showed him a 14 page magazine article I had written by myself, which I knew was really funny, and had quality, he dismissed it as being "One joke".
Others had read it, and had laughed hard on each of the fourteen pages.
But to him, it was "one joke"
I knew better.
Why did these two things happen?
They are inter-related.
It was all political.
He was nicer to me because I now represented a genuine opportunity for employment.
He dismissed the fourteen page article as "one joke" because he wanted me to feel dependent on him.
That I couldn't write by myself.
Of course, I was too politically naïve to recognize this at the time.
So we supplied material to various celebrities with TV shows, through my father, and landed the "Odd Couple" job pretty quickly.
Thus began a continuing endless saga of "People looking past Mark to get to look at and listen to Lowell".
I described Lowell as the best and fastest oral-verbal writer anyone has ever encountered.
This was very showy.
At the beginning, he wrote a lot funnier than I did.
But I wrote more intelligently.
It was also the beginning of what I describe as "Ganz Wrangling"
When he and I wrote together in our office, he was, in effect, a bucking bronco.
I had to ride him.
He would flail off in every direction, dispensing wit and shit.
It was my job to accentuate the wit and eliminate the shit.
It was easy to do.
Because I had taste, and he didn't.
So I did it with intelligence.
At rodeos, the bucking broncos are not the ones that win the prize money.
That's what goes to the riders that stay on them.
I once described "The little man inside me" that instinctively told me what would work on the page and the stage.
Much like Edward G. Robinson, playing an insurance investigator in the film noir classic "Double Indemnity", described the "little man" inside him, who could always spot a phony claim.
Nyaahh, see??
And Lowell relied on me and my little man totally for our collective intelligence and taste.
So my contribution was all done in the shadows.
Nobody saw my little man except him.
And by the time I filtered out the shit for him, he was ready to go out in public and dazzle people with the filtered wit.
That little man was first in evidence when we won our college sketch trophy.
The two guys who ran the completion watched one of our rehearsals and, as a result, begged and pleaded with us to withdraw from the competition.
That's how big an embarrassment they thought we'd be.
And I said to the main guy, "Sheldon, you don't understand something. We not only won't drop out, but we are going to win this thing."
How did I know this?
At the time, I didn't have a clue.
But I knew that we would win.
I knew that we were doing professional work, and that we were up against amateurs.
In retrospect, I now know that it was the result of the very first conversation I had with the little man inside me.
Once we began working on the Odd Couple, Lowell never wanted me to open my mouth in public.
I wanted to.
In his interview, he implied that I didn't want to.
I did.
Any time I tried, he'd cut me off.
Or talked even faster, so I couldn't compete.
Soon enough, I stopped trying.
We were so successful, so early, that I didn't want to rock the boat.
And I didn't realize how much it was hurting me.
He made such an overwhelming impression with his mouth, that I was soon relegated to the back seat.
Once we became Head Writers on "The Odd Couple", the first indication of my being looked past to get to Lowell was in Garry Marshall's office.
What should have been a trialogue invariably turned into a dialogue.
Between Lowell and Garry.
With Garry grabbing the reins of the bucking bronco.
Garry also had that little man inside of him.
He kept Lowell on story, which is what I did with Lowell in our office.
A bucking bronco doesn't need two riders.
So I was just left there to watch the rodeo.
I think it was the beginning of Lowell's self-proclaimed love affair with Garry.
It took a long time for Garry to figure out what to make of me.
This then extended to our writing staff, who were just as intimidated by Lowell as I was.
They weren't intimidated my me, because I didn't seem to do anything.
They weren't there in the shadows, where I was Ganz Wrangling.
And the Ganz Wrangling was at the cost of my own writing style.
I was accommodating HIS writing style, and we certainly turned out some great work together, but I never had the opportunity to write by myself, by just working with a yellow legal pad, in longhand, which I knew I could do, at least as well as whatever he could do by himself.
Perhaps less jokily than he could, but far more intelligently.
I made some minor noise about writing some scripts by myself, but Lowell was very discouraging about it.
And again, I didn't want to rock the boat.
Once we went on to be Producers on "Happy Days", and "Laverne and Shirley", Lowell pretty much made it mandatory that he was to be the public voice in ALL situations---Giving acting notes, editing notes, running the writers room.
Giving more people the opportunity to look past me to look at and listen to, him.
He demanded deference.
Or at least it was implied that he demanded deference.
By this point, it was pretty clear to me that he held my career by a string, sittin' on a rainbow.
And that he could end it with one snip of the scissors.
I was at his mercy, and I am convinced that he knew it.
This is as far as I want to go with this today.
Until next time, and there certainly will be a next time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Why I Am Not Babaloo Mandel. Part Two.
First, let me attempt to accentuate the positive where Lowell Ganz is concerned.
This is at least a modest attempt at fairness.
Then I will segue into the negative.
And I will most likely not mess with Mister In-Between.
Primarily because there is no such Mister in this instance.
Okay.
Lowell Ganz's good points:
He has a prodigious joke-writing talent.
He is perhaps the best oral-verbal writer who ever lived.
He talks in perfect writer's construction.
I give him practically full credit for our landing our job on "The Odd Couple"
Because our script was replete with his jokes.
And "The Odd Couple" was essentially a joke show.
I have always been more of a structurist and a storyteller.
And it was jokes that Jack Klugman and Tony Randall and Garry Marshall were looking for.
I seriously doubt that I could have written a successful "Odd Couple" script at the time.
My story underpinning was definitely on display in that script, but that went largely unnoticed.
Lowell was and is a virtual wellspring of ideas.
I was and am not.
I have always been handicapped with too much knowledge about ideas that had already been done.
A free-lance writer once came in to pitch an idea for an Odd Couple episode, and after about two minutes, I stopped him and said "They did this story on "The Dick Van Dyke Show"
At which point, he sheepishly said "Yeah. I know. I wrote it."
My idea strength was to be able to get more out of a good idea execution-wise than anyone else, including Lowell.
I envied Lowell's joke-writing ability, but at the same time, was mildly contemptuous of the form.
I pride myself on almost never writing out-and-out jokes.
Because they make the characters sound like comedy writers.
This is fine for sketches that are two-dimensional, or "The Dick Van Dyke Show", or "Laughter On The 23rd Floor", or "My Favorite Year", where the characters actually WERE comedy writers.
I like shows that are reality based, and when comedy-writerish jokes are all over the place, coming out of the mouths of civilians, it removes a vital layer of reality.
This makes it very difficult for the audience to care about the characters.
The great contemporary sitcoms, "Seinfeld", "Curb Your Enthusiasm", "Two and a Half Men", "The Big Bang Theory", are virtually all joke-free.
With them, it's all attitude and character nuance.
And they are at least as funny as joke-oriented shows.
I write plays, and screenplays, and novels, and essays, which you know about, and they are all very funny, and they all steer away from the joke.
But I digress.
Two more good points about Lowell:
He and Mandel once wrote a great movie.
It was called "A League Of Their Own"
Lowell does the best Ralph Kramden I've ever seen.
Far better than Gleason did.
Because he removes the pain, and only retains the funny.
Okay. Now I will begin to touch on Lowell's negatives.
I'll begin way back when we were in college together.
In his interview on the EmmyTVLegends website, he makes his first Swan Dive off the High Board away from the truth, which may seem quite trivial, by describing how he wrote the Trophy Winning Sketch for a College competition, and I was an interested observer.
And how I approached him and said "I think money can be made from this kind of thing"
I believe he designed it to look like I was looking to find a way to exploit HIS talent.
As if I had never written a word of comedy before in my life.
Here is the actual timeline of events, easily confirmed by anyone who was around then to witness it:
At the Frat that he was involved in, Power House, in 1969, he wrote a sketch for the college competition.
I don't know if anyone else was involved.
I know I wasn't.
I was merely an interested observer.
I wasn't even a member of Power House.
It was pretty funny.
I thought I saw ways it could be funnier and better structured.
It had very bad songs. Nobody thought it could possibly win.
It didn't.
It came in fifth out of eight.
I thought it deserved to finish higher than that.
But it didn't.
After that, I was invited to join Power House.
Having acquired a minor reputation as a talented songwriter, I was recruited to write the songs for the 1970 sketch.
Which I did, singlehandedly. This soon evolved into Lowell and I, totally together, writing the sketch from word one.
And I directed it.
And that's when WE won the First Prize Trophy.
This begs the question "Why did he leave that entire part of the story out?"
I have a theory.
Even all these years later, even over something so seemingly unimportant, he was still wallowing in self-promotion.
What I also learned about him in those early days was that he was a very shrewd, spectacularly talented liar.
Thus, a natural politician.
At that time, he successfully pulled off one of the most humongous lies this side of Jon Lovitz's Tommy Flanaygan.
I can't go into the details of it, because there is someone who is still alive who would be severely hurt by the information contained in it.
But trust me. You could never fathom anyone getting away with, or even attempting such a lie.
And he did both.
To this day, I am not capable of lying convincingly about anything.
Or of being any kind of political.
But I knew one thing.
This was someone I wanted on my side.
I knew one other thing.
He was cunning, and if he ever turned on me, which I even then thought he was fully capable of, he could ruin me.
In the aftermath of our breakup, we thrashed it all out several times.
And I told him that I knew within the first week of our working on "The Odd Couple", where I was in a position to have to have his back, and did, and he was in a position to have my back, and didn't, that we were on the road to "Trouble In River City".
What I never told him was that I had this sneaking suspicion when we were still in college.
In the interview, that was the first of many far more significant Swan Dives.
We have miles to go before we sleep.
Until next time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
This is at least a modest attempt at fairness.
Then I will segue into the negative.
And I will most likely not mess with Mister In-Between.
Primarily because there is no such Mister in this instance.
Okay.
Lowell Ganz's good points:
He has a prodigious joke-writing talent.
He is perhaps the best oral-verbal writer who ever lived.
He talks in perfect writer's construction.
I give him practically full credit for our landing our job on "The Odd Couple"
Because our script was replete with his jokes.
And "The Odd Couple" was essentially a joke show.
I have always been more of a structurist and a storyteller.
And it was jokes that Jack Klugman and Tony Randall and Garry Marshall were looking for.
I seriously doubt that I could have written a successful "Odd Couple" script at the time.
My story underpinning was definitely on display in that script, but that went largely unnoticed.
Lowell was and is a virtual wellspring of ideas.
I was and am not.
I have always been handicapped with too much knowledge about ideas that had already been done.
A free-lance writer once came in to pitch an idea for an Odd Couple episode, and after about two minutes, I stopped him and said "They did this story on "The Dick Van Dyke Show"
At which point, he sheepishly said "Yeah. I know. I wrote it."
My idea strength was to be able to get more out of a good idea execution-wise than anyone else, including Lowell.
I envied Lowell's joke-writing ability, but at the same time, was mildly contemptuous of the form.
I pride myself on almost never writing out-and-out jokes.
Because they make the characters sound like comedy writers.
This is fine for sketches that are two-dimensional, or "The Dick Van Dyke Show", or "Laughter On The 23rd Floor", or "My Favorite Year", where the characters actually WERE comedy writers.
I like shows that are reality based, and when comedy-writerish jokes are all over the place, coming out of the mouths of civilians, it removes a vital layer of reality.
This makes it very difficult for the audience to care about the characters.
The great contemporary sitcoms, "Seinfeld", "Curb Your Enthusiasm", "Two and a Half Men", "The Big Bang Theory", are virtually all joke-free.
With them, it's all attitude and character nuance.
And they are at least as funny as joke-oriented shows.
I write plays, and screenplays, and novels, and essays, which you know about, and they are all very funny, and they all steer away from the joke.
But I digress.
Two more good points about Lowell:
He and Mandel once wrote a great movie.
It was called "A League Of Their Own"
Lowell does the best Ralph Kramden I've ever seen.
Far better than Gleason did.
Because he removes the pain, and only retains the funny.
Okay. Now I will begin to touch on Lowell's negatives.
I'll begin way back when we were in college together.
In his interview on the EmmyTVLegends website, he makes his first Swan Dive off the High Board away from the truth, which may seem quite trivial, by describing how he wrote the Trophy Winning Sketch for a College competition, and I was an interested observer.
And how I approached him and said "I think money can be made from this kind of thing"
I believe he designed it to look like I was looking to find a way to exploit HIS talent.
As if I had never written a word of comedy before in my life.
Here is the actual timeline of events, easily confirmed by anyone who was around then to witness it:
At the Frat that he was involved in, Power House, in 1969, he wrote a sketch for the college competition.
I don't know if anyone else was involved.
I know I wasn't.
I was merely an interested observer.
I wasn't even a member of Power House.
It was pretty funny.
I thought I saw ways it could be funnier and better structured.
It had very bad songs. Nobody thought it could possibly win.
It didn't.
It came in fifth out of eight.
I thought it deserved to finish higher than that.
But it didn't.
After that, I was invited to join Power House.
Having acquired a minor reputation as a talented songwriter, I was recruited to write the songs for the 1970 sketch.
Which I did, singlehandedly. This soon evolved into Lowell and I, totally together, writing the sketch from word one.
And I directed it.
And that's when WE won the First Prize Trophy.
This begs the question "Why did he leave that entire part of the story out?"
I have a theory.
Even all these years later, even over something so seemingly unimportant, he was still wallowing in self-promotion.
What I also learned about him in those early days was that he was a very shrewd, spectacularly talented liar.
Thus, a natural politician.
At that time, he successfully pulled off one of the most humongous lies this side of Jon Lovitz's Tommy Flanaygan.
I can't go into the details of it, because there is someone who is still alive who would be severely hurt by the information contained in it.
But trust me. You could never fathom anyone getting away with, or even attempting such a lie.
And he did both.
To this day, I am not capable of lying convincingly about anything.
Or of being any kind of political.
But I knew one thing.
This was someone I wanted on my side.
I knew one other thing.
He was cunning, and if he ever turned on me, which I even then thought he was fully capable of, he could ruin me.
In the aftermath of our breakup, we thrashed it all out several times.
And I told him that I knew within the first week of our working on "The Odd Couple", where I was in a position to have to have his back, and did, and he was in a position to have my back, and didn't, that we were on the road to "Trouble In River City".
What I never told him was that I had this sneaking suspicion when we were still in college.
In the interview, that was the first of many far more significant Swan Dives.
We have miles to go before we sleep.
Until next time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Why I Am Not Babaloo Mandel. Part One.
One of my handful of crosses to bear over the years has been people who are vaguely aware of me and my former partner, Lowell Ganz, asking me "Aren't you the guy who wrote all those movies with Lowell Ganz?"
The answer, now and forever more is "No. That was Babaloo Mandel"
Sometimes there has been the follow-up question "Why wasn't it you?"
Over the course of the next few articles, I will attempt to answer this question at greater length.
Not because there has been any clamor for it by you loyal blog readers.
But because of the sudden clamor, after all these years, by me, to tell you about it.
This is due to circumstances that are, and have been, beyond my control.
Until perhaps now.
As the late, great Jimmy Durante used to say, "Dems is da conditions what prevails."
A couple of months ago, I was told by a friend that there was a four part interview of Lowell Ganz that could be found at the prestigious "EmmyTVLegends" website.
My first reaction, of course, was absolute envy and resentment.
Wouldn't that be anybody's?
Considering that he and I worked on the same hit TV shows?
In the same job?
That we spent virtually exactly the same amount of time toiling in the sitcom vineyards?
Considering that he and I were nominated for, and won the exact same number of Emmys?
A grand total of none, as it turns out.
Aside from the fact that he wrote all those hit movies with Mandel, was I not just as legendary?
What do the movies have to do with TV and Emmys?
Or was I just kidding myself?
So I had no desire to watch this interview.
Until last night, when the Gods of Self-Infliction took over, and I watched it.
There were lots of questions about me, and Lowell parried them with what I perceived to be his usual assortment of back-handed compliments.
The kind of thing that the untrained eye would perhaps only regard as "compliments"
It was the kind of thing that always marked our professional and personal relationship.
In private, I seemed to be someone he looked up to and valued.
In public, he seemed to take every possible opportunity to diminish me in the eyes of others.
Whether it was done out of mere insensitivity, or mere deviousness, it's something the jury is still out about.
One thing is for certain: A jury still needs to be impaneled.
This diminishing was extremely effective, and has left it's imprint on me.
In the interview, Lowell implied that all he cared about was doing good work as a writer.
And that my primary concern was in being a Producer, and the "Big Boss"
You loyal blog readers know at least enough of my work to know that I take pride in it, and consider myself to be well above the level of "Hack"
I have the pride of someone who can write by himself.
To my knowledge, Lowell has always relied on a partner.
I don't know if he's ever written a word without someone else within ten feet of him.
And I never really aspired to be Max Bialystock.
Next time, if you're still interested in this, I will delve into my history with Lowell, and further examples of what I feel was his self-promotion at my expense, including what was said in the interview.
It included his take on why we split up.
He made out-and-out incomplete and unnecessary misrepresentations, dredged up from thirty-four years ago, that put me in the harshest light possible today.
And I am here to tell you that it really more closely resembled Martin and Lewis's breakup.
In spades.
Him being Jerry, and me being Dean.
Dean survived, and so have I.
But I'm sure that Dean and I both had some very unpleasant memories.
So come back next time, as we continue our traipse down Memory Lane.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
The answer, now and forever more is "No. That was Babaloo Mandel"
Sometimes there has been the follow-up question "Why wasn't it you?"
Over the course of the next few articles, I will attempt to answer this question at greater length.
Not because there has been any clamor for it by you loyal blog readers.
But because of the sudden clamor, after all these years, by me, to tell you about it.
This is due to circumstances that are, and have been, beyond my control.
Until perhaps now.
As the late, great Jimmy Durante used to say, "Dems is da conditions what prevails."
A couple of months ago, I was told by a friend that there was a four part interview of Lowell Ganz that could be found at the prestigious "EmmyTVLegends" website.
My first reaction, of course, was absolute envy and resentment.
Wouldn't that be anybody's?
Considering that he and I worked on the same hit TV shows?
In the same job?
That we spent virtually exactly the same amount of time toiling in the sitcom vineyards?
Considering that he and I were nominated for, and won the exact same number of Emmys?
A grand total of none, as it turns out.
Aside from the fact that he wrote all those hit movies with Mandel, was I not just as legendary?
What do the movies have to do with TV and Emmys?
Or was I just kidding myself?
So I had no desire to watch this interview.
Until last night, when the Gods of Self-Infliction took over, and I watched it.
There were lots of questions about me, and Lowell parried them with what I perceived to be his usual assortment of back-handed compliments.
The kind of thing that the untrained eye would perhaps only regard as "compliments"
It was the kind of thing that always marked our professional and personal relationship.
In private, I seemed to be someone he looked up to and valued.
In public, he seemed to take every possible opportunity to diminish me in the eyes of others.
Whether it was done out of mere insensitivity, or mere deviousness, it's something the jury is still out about.
One thing is for certain: A jury still needs to be impaneled.
This diminishing was extremely effective, and has left it's imprint on me.
In the interview, Lowell implied that all he cared about was doing good work as a writer.
And that my primary concern was in being a Producer, and the "Big Boss"
You loyal blog readers know at least enough of my work to know that I take pride in it, and consider myself to be well above the level of "Hack"
I have the pride of someone who can write by himself.
To my knowledge, Lowell has always relied on a partner.
I don't know if he's ever written a word without someone else within ten feet of him.
And I never really aspired to be Max Bialystock.
Next time, if you're still interested in this, I will delve into my history with Lowell, and further examples of what I feel was his self-promotion at my expense, including what was said in the interview.
It included his take on why we split up.
He made out-and-out incomplete and unnecessary misrepresentations, dredged up from thirty-four years ago, that put me in the harshest light possible today.
And I am here to tell you that it really more closely resembled Martin and Lewis's breakup.
In spades.
Him being Jerry, and me being Dean.
Dean survived, and so have I.
But I'm sure that Dean and I both had some very unpleasant memories.
So come back next time, as we continue our traipse down Memory Lane.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Friday, September 6, 2013
The Grandstanders From "Bandstand"
Last time out, in my article about David Frost, I commented on billing squabbles and pecking orders that occasionally arise among guest performers.
This prompted one of my readers to contact me and relate one of his experiences.
He has worked heavily in radio, and was assigned the task, in 1995, of emceeing a concert, in Tampa Florida, for Frankie Avalon, Bobby Rydell, and Fabian, who were appearing jointly.
So he asked the promoter how they should be introduced, and in what order.
He was told, in no uncertain terms, that he was NOT to introduce them at all.
That the houselights would go to black, and when they came up again, the three of them would simply amble on to the stage.
He was told that if he introduced any one of them first, the other two would resent it.
This is interesting in that it represented wholesome nostalgia being sold by such "nice young boys"
Actually, at this point in their lives, they were apparently not so nice, not so young, and hardly boys.
Once on stage, they never left each other's sides for a minute.
It is not clear who sang first, but it is clear that they all sang exactly equally.
Maybe they alternated from gig to gig, or flipped a coin backstage to determine who sang first.
Now, consider for a moment who it was exactly who were engaged in this petty squabbling:
Three former heartthrobs who were totally manufactured by Dick Clark on "American Bandstand".
One of them who sang pretty well (Rydell), one of whom who was just cute and could sing a little(Avalon), and one who was gorgeous and couldn't sing a lick (Fabian).
And they managed to squeeze out more than 150 years of career among them.
You'd think they'd each consider themselves to be the luckiest fucks in the world.
Apparently not.
Coincidentally enough, my local PBS station aired a special show this week, called "Malt Shop Memories"
The headliners were the above mentioned Frankie, Bobby, and Fabian.
I immediately set my Tivo for it.
I wanted to see if 18 years might have mellowed the situation at all.
Or just what effect those years would have on their looks and performing abilities.
There were many other acts booked, and although the headliners each did their own individual turns, they were mostly relegated to introducing the other acts.
The only women under fifty in the building were the backup singers on stage.
The PBS people were not at all shy about the billing.
It was Avalon, then Rydell, then Fabian.
This was the order that made the most sense, at least to Avalon, if not to Fabian.
And Avalon was introduced first, to introduce the first act.
And promoted first in all the ads.
Maybe this is why he and he alone showed up to be relentlessly interviewed on Pledge Week
There were lots of great acts---The Drifters, Lesley Gore, Chris Montez, looking forty, Little Peggy March, not looking forty....
But there was something very tricky about the editing, which I never would have noticed if I hadn't heard this story from 1995.
Avalon did the bulk of the introducing.
Rydell did some.
Fabian did less.
And all of their introducing was done in disembodied single shots.
As if they weren't even in the same showroom at the time.
That it was done at a different time.
Maybe a different time from each other.
That they probably had everybody introduce everybody, except maybe themselves
When they introduced each other, they went from the introducer, in his single shot, to the introducee, hitting the stage.
None of them ever appeared in the same shot as either of the others.
If you were me, you'd have had the impression that the billing squabble still existed.
And the way the PBS boys dealt with it was to tell each of them that he was the first-billed.
Then the three of them would be gone, and PBS would do whatever the hell they wanted to do, and promote it however the hell they wanted.
At the end, all of the other acts did a curtain call.
Avalon, Rydell, and Fabian were nowhere to be found.
It all looked like Trouble In River City to me.
Performance-wise, Rydell still sounded great, Avalon sounded like he lost some of what remained of his pipes, and Fabian sounded, well, like Fabian.
No discernible difference there.
Avalon and Rydell clearly had a lot of work done.
The worst was Avalon's eye-job.
Fabian just looked puffy.
As if the Botox hadn't settled in yet.
And it all looked like a three-way toupee medley.
Fellas, maybe it's time to get over it.
Maybe you should all be grateful for being able to surf the show business wave as long as you have.
Because it seems clear that the hearts that are throbbing for you will soon all be wearing pacemakers.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
This prompted one of my readers to contact me and relate one of his experiences.
He has worked heavily in radio, and was assigned the task, in 1995, of emceeing a concert, in Tampa Florida, for Frankie Avalon, Bobby Rydell, and Fabian, who were appearing jointly.
So he asked the promoter how they should be introduced, and in what order.
He was told, in no uncertain terms, that he was NOT to introduce them at all.
That the houselights would go to black, and when they came up again, the three of them would simply amble on to the stage.
He was told that if he introduced any one of them first, the other two would resent it.
This is interesting in that it represented wholesome nostalgia being sold by such "nice young boys"
Actually, at this point in their lives, they were apparently not so nice, not so young, and hardly boys.
Once on stage, they never left each other's sides for a minute.
It is not clear who sang first, but it is clear that they all sang exactly equally.
Maybe they alternated from gig to gig, or flipped a coin backstage to determine who sang first.
Now, consider for a moment who it was exactly who were engaged in this petty squabbling:
Three former heartthrobs who were totally manufactured by Dick Clark on "American Bandstand".
One of them who sang pretty well (Rydell), one of whom who was just cute and could sing a little(Avalon), and one who was gorgeous and couldn't sing a lick (Fabian).
And they managed to squeeze out more than 150 years of career among them.
You'd think they'd each consider themselves to be the luckiest fucks in the world.
Apparently not.
Coincidentally enough, my local PBS station aired a special show this week, called "Malt Shop Memories"
The headliners were the above mentioned Frankie, Bobby, and Fabian.
I immediately set my Tivo for it.
I wanted to see if 18 years might have mellowed the situation at all.
Or just what effect those years would have on their looks and performing abilities.
There were many other acts booked, and although the headliners each did their own individual turns, they were mostly relegated to introducing the other acts.
The only women under fifty in the building were the backup singers on stage.
The PBS people were not at all shy about the billing.
It was Avalon, then Rydell, then Fabian.
This was the order that made the most sense, at least to Avalon, if not to Fabian.
And Avalon was introduced first, to introduce the first act.
And promoted first in all the ads.
Maybe this is why he and he alone showed up to be relentlessly interviewed on Pledge Week
There were lots of great acts---The Drifters, Lesley Gore, Chris Montez, looking forty, Little Peggy March, not looking forty....
But there was something very tricky about the editing, which I never would have noticed if I hadn't heard this story from 1995.
Avalon did the bulk of the introducing.
Rydell did some.
Fabian did less.
And all of their introducing was done in disembodied single shots.
As if they weren't even in the same showroom at the time.
That it was done at a different time.
Maybe a different time from each other.
That they probably had everybody introduce everybody, except maybe themselves
When they introduced each other, they went from the introducer, in his single shot, to the introducee, hitting the stage.
None of them ever appeared in the same shot as either of the others.
If you were me, you'd have had the impression that the billing squabble still existed.
And the way the PBS boys dealt with it was to tell each of them that he was the first-billed.
Then the three of them would be gone, and PBS would do whatever the hell they wanted to do, and promote it however the hell they wanted.
At the end, all of the other acts did a curtain call.
Avalon, Rydell, and Fabian were nowhere to be found.
It all looked like Trouble In River City to me.
Performance-wise, Rydell still sounded great, Avalon sounded like he lost some of what remained of his pipes, and Fabian sounded, well, like Fabian.
No discernible difference there.
Avalon and Rydell clearly had a lot of work done.
The worst was Avalon's eye-job.
Fabian just looked puffy.
As if the Botox hadn't settled in yet.
And it all looked like a three-way toupee medley.
Fellas, maybe it's time to get over it.
Maybe you should all be grateful for being able to surf the show business wave as long as you have.
Because it seems clear that the hearts that are throbbing for you will soon all be wearing pacemakers.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
David Frost's Contribution To One of The Lowest Points In The History Of Television.
I know he just died, but if he hadn't, it probably wouldn't have triggered my memory the way it has.
David Frost made many, many positive contributions to television.
His Nixon interviews alone puts him on a pedestal in the Hall of Fame.
So obviously, this is not about the Nixon interviews.
He really snookered Nixon, who really deserved snookering.
And he did it in a way that took advantage of one of Frost's foremost characteristics: fawning over his guest.
With Nixon, he turned fawning into an art form.
By fawning over Nixon, he softened him up to the point that he got Nixon to admit to things no one else would have gotten him to admit.
On many other occasions, he turned fawning into a "paint-by-numbers" form.
On the absolute worst of these occasions, he provided one of the most embarrassing, and avoidable, ninety minutes of television by pure fawning.
This took place some time between 1969 and 1971.
David Frost had a nightly syndicated talk show, that also had variety show elements.
It had to deal with the usual problems that talk shows encounter---who to book, who was available to book, whether a particular guest was worth booking, and usually most prevalent, the pecking order of which guest is perceived as most important.
Billing.
Who is first billed?
Who is the first guest introduced, appearing in the first guest segment?
How many segments does each guest get?
Is there a danger of bumping one of the latter, less-important guests?
If so, how big a danger of offending that guest is it?
Does it matter?
These can be very tricky questions.
If you were a regular viewer of "The Larry Sanders Show", this kind of stuff came up all the time.
Well, there was one night between 1969 and 1971, on the David Frost Show, where all of these questions were tossed out the window.
There was only one guest booked.
This is how Dick Cavett solved this problem on several occasions.
He'd book Katharine Hepburn, or Bette Davis, or some similar giant of the business like that, and settle in for 90 uninterrupted minutes.
Not only did it solve the problems, but it usually made for pretty great television.
So during this above-mentioned era, David Frost followed suit.
He booked only one guest.
And upon introducing him, he was totally effusive in his praise.
Who was this solo guest?
Sammy Shore.
I'm hearing a resounding ""Who???"
That response was probably even more resounding when it happened than it is now.
Yet it is entirely appropriate now.
When one thinks of classic low points of television, one usually thinks of "My Mother, The Car", which actually was worse than it sounded, or anything involving the Kardashians, or Geraldo Rivera opening Al Capone's vault.
Sammy Shore's solo appearance on the David Frost Show ranks right up there with them.
The difference is that I may be the only one who remembers it.
Lucky me.
At the time, I had heard of Sammy Shore.
But I had never seen him work.
He was and is a comic.
He was and is never a headliner.
His main claim to fame was that he was Elvis's opening act in Las Vegas.
That was it.
He came on, and did some of the unfunniest standup I'd ever witnessed.
For about fifteen minutes.
It was very low-key.
As if he wasn't even trying.
Maybe trying would have even been more trying.
So he got done with his stand-up, and sat down, one-on-one, with David Frost, who then spent the next hour and fifteen minutes fawning over this lounge act that was Sammy Shore.
And Sammy helped by being absolutely uninteresting.
He couldn't really talk about his son Pauly, who went on to become a "star" of sorts, because at the time, Pauly was only two or three years old.
He had no way of knowing.
Sammy Shore became a little more noteworthy a couple of years later, when he opened "The Comedy Store", a now legendary nightclub in L.A., and then lost it to his ex-wife in the divorce.
So he couldn't talk about that either.
It was excruciating.
For ninety minutes.
Made far worse by Frost's totally inappropriate fawning.
Why does something like this happen?
Obviously, three other guests were booked, and they all fell out at the last minute.
Maybe because of a billing squabble.
Sammy Shore would have been thrilled to come on fourth.
Hell, he would have been thrilled to be bumped.
But I guess Frost's ego took over.
And he said to himself "Who needs them? I'm such a good interviewer that I can do ninety minutes with Sammy friggin' Shore! Hell, maybe even turn him into a star!"
It didn't work out that way.
If Sammy Shore is remembered at all these days, it's as Pauly Shore's father.
And who wants that?
Or as Mitzi Shore's ex-husband.
Mitzi Shore is now regarded as THE major power wielding Comedy Goddess in L.A., because she determines who gets to go on stage at the Comedy Store.
All because of the divorce.
So every comic in town kisses Mitzi's ass.
Nobody kisses Sammy's ass.
Perhaps he is grateful for this dubious pleasure.
R.I.P., David.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
David Frost made many, many positive contributions to television.
His Nixon interviews alone puts him on a pedestal in the Hall of Fame.
So obviously, this is not about the Nixon interviews.
He really snookered Nixon, who really deserved snookering.
And he did it in a way that took advantage of one of Frost's foremost characteristics: fawning over his guest.
With Nixon, he turned fawning into an art form.
By fawning over Nixon, he softened him up to the point that he got Nixon to admit to things no one else would have gotten him to admit.
On many other occasions, he turned fawning into a "paint-by-numbers" form.
On the absolute worst of these occasions, he provided one of the most embarrassing, and avoidable, ninety minutes of television by pure fawning.
This took place some time between 1969 and 1971.
David Frost had a nightly syndicated talk show, that also had variety show elements.
It had to deal with the usual problems that talk shows encounter---who to book, who was available to book, whether a particular guest was worth booking, and usually most prevalent, the pecking order of which guest is perceived as most important.
Billing.
Who is first billed?
Who is the first guest introduced, appearing in the first guest segment?
How many segments does each guest get?
Is there a danger of bumping one of the latter, less-important guests?
If so, how big a danger of offending that guest is it?
Does it matter?
These can be very tricky questions.
If you were a regular viewer of "The Larry Sanders Show", this kind of stuff came up all the time.
Well, there was one night between 1969 and 1971, on the David Frost Show, where all of these questions were tossed out the window.
There was only one guest booked.
This is how Dick Cavett solved this problem on several occasions.
He'd book Katharine Hepburn, or Bette Davis, or some similar giant of the business like that, and settle in for 90 uninterrupted minutes.
Not only did it solve the problems, but it usually made for pretty great television.
So during this above-mentioned era, David Frost followed suit.
He booked only one guest.
And upon introducing him, he was totally effusive in his praise.
Who was this solo guest?
Sammy Shore.
I'm hearing a resounding ""Who???"
That response was probably even more resounding when it happened than it is now.
Yet it is entirely appropriate now.
When one thinks of classic low points of television, one usually thinks of "My Mother, The Car", which actually was worse than it sounded, or anything involving the Kardashians, or Geraldo Rivera opening Al Capone's vault.
Sammy Shore's solo appearance on the David Frost Show ranks right up there with them.
The difference is that I may be the only one who remembers it.
Lucky me.
At the time, I had heard of Sammy Shore.
But I had never seen him work.
He was and is a comic.
He was and is never a headliner.
His main claim to fame was that he was Elvis's opening act in Las Vegas.
That was it.
He came on, and did some of the unfunniest standup I'd ever witnessed.
For about fifteen minutes.
It was very low-key.
As if he wasn't even trying.
Maybe trying would have even been more trying.
So he got done with his stand-up, and sat down, one-on-one, with David Frost, who then spent the next hour and fifteen minutes fawning over this lounge act that was Sammy Shore.
And Sammy helped by being absolutely uninteresting.
He couldn't really talk about his son Pauly, who went on to become a "star" of sorts, because at the time, Pauly was only two or three years old.
He had no way of knowing.
Sammy Shore became a little more noteworthy a couple of years later, when he opened "The Comedy Store", a now legendary nightclub in L.A., and then lost it to his ex-wife in the divorce.
So he couldn't talk about that either.
It was excruciating.
For ninety minutes.
Made far worse by Frost's totally inappropriate fawning.
Why does something like this happen?
Obviously, three other guests were booked, and they all fell out at the last minute.
Maybe because of a billing squabble.
Sammy Shore would have been thrilled to come on fourth.
Hell, he would have been thrilled to be bumped.
But I guess Frost's ego took over.
And he said to himself "Who needs them? I'm such a good interviewer that I can do ninety minutes with Sammy friggin' Shore! Hell, maybe even turn him into a star!"
It didn't work out that way.
If Sammy Shore is remembered at all these days, it's as Pauly Shore's father.
And who wants that?
Or as Mitzi Shore's ex-husband.
Mitzi Shore is now regarded as THE major power wielding Comedy Goddess in L.A., because she determines who gets to go on stage at the Comedy Store.
All because of the divorce.
So every comic in town kisses Mitzi's ass.
Nobody kisses Sammy's ass.
Perhaps he is grateful for this dubious pleasure.
R.I.P., David.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
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