I’ve been sick in bed since Thursday with some kind of virus/flu. I still have a bad cough but if I don’t wrench myself out of bed today I’m afraid I never will. Hell, even Jesus got up after three days. I’m not comparing my cold to a crucifixion although Leah has already accused me of having delusions of grandeur. “Dad, I’ve had a cold for three WEEKS and you’re complaining about a few DAYS?!” Do Gentiles play that ever-popular Jewish game, “Who’s the Sickest?” On the other hand, I’ve also noticed that whenever I’m sick I judge myself mercilessly as if I have no right to engage in such a silly self-indulgence as resting in bed. Shouldn’t I at least be catching up on work projects, committing Shakespeare to memory, or learning Italian? Why is it so hard for me to take it easy without feeling massive guilt? It’s also hard for me to ask for help even though my loved ones could not be more accommodating. Does part of me think I don’t deserve the attention because whatever illness I have is nothing compared to people who are really sick?
Maybe this has all been one big sleep correction. I’m lucky if I get 4 hours of sleep a night but I’ve been averaging 10-12 hours during the past several days. My brain isn’t used to that much REM sleep and I’ve been having extremely vivid dreams, one after the other. Let’s see, this morning alone I remember something about an impending nuclear strike on the United States (and I was the only person who knew about it), my 49-year-old sister being pregnant with triplets, a massive snowstorm hitting Los Angeles, and Kendall accompanying Greer Garson on a trip to Israel. Can someone page my therapist?
When I wasn’t dreaming about nuclear holocausts I was laying in bed watching TV. I don’t watch that much these days so the steady influx of commercial television was a shock to my system. On Saturday I discovered that we get Turner Classic Movies On Demand and I happily viewed several old movies that I’d always wanted to see. Highlights included the star-studded 1954 MGM film “Executive Suite” starring Barbara Stanwyck, William Holden, June Allyson, Walter Pidgeon, and a host of other Big Stars from the waning days of the studio system. I was riveted by the Ernest Lehman script and the solid direction from Robert Wise but amazed that such a suspenseful and intriguing film could be built around the search for a new head of a furniture company in Pennsylvania following the death of its leader. Would anyone give a damn about such a storyline today? A unique feature of “Executive Suite” is that it was one of the only movies ever to come out of Hollywood with no music track. The only thing you can hear on the soundtrack besides dialogue are the natural sounds of the city, even during the opening and closing credits. Holden’s idealistic McDonald Walling reminded me of a character out of an Ayn Rand novel. “The force behind a great company has to be more than the pride of one man,” Walling states ever so seriously. “It has to be the pride of thousands. You can’t make men work for money alone—you starve their souls when you try it, and you can starve a company to death the same way.” I couldn’t help but think that people had real jobs in the 1950s. And I loved those cool 1950s skyscrapers. Should I try to get a job in a furniture company and then claw my way to the top, having an affair with Barbara Stanwyck in the process?
Another film I enjoyed was “The Stork Club” from 1945, starring “that wacky Paramount songstress” Betty Hutton. When Betty, a struggling hat check girl at New York’s swanky Stork Club, saves the life of distraught millionaire Barry Fitzgerald, whom she believes to be penniless, Fitzgerald is so grateful that he decides to anonymously set Hutton up in a luxurious Park Avenue townhouse with an open charge account at Sak’s. Yeah, right. Betty thinks the riches are coming from her lecherous boss at the Stork Club (played by 1950s TV announcer Bill Goodwin) and yet, in a weird but plot-advancing move, she accepts the largesse and goes nuts at Sak’s, buying not one but two $6,000 mink coats and a glittering new wardrobe. Betty, Betty, if you’re worried that your patron is going to expect things in return, then what are you doing? Was the temptation for finer things at the end of World War II simply too great? Of course when Hutton’s boyfriend Danny (played by Don DeFore, better known as Mr. Baxter on the TV series “Hazel”) gets back from the Pacific, he assumes that his girlfriend is being kept by some sugar daddy. Duh! Of course the millionaire eventually makes things right, and the innocent Hutton gets plenty of opportunities to sing her trademark novelty numbers including the Hoagy Carmichael song, “Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief” that became one of Hutton’s biggest hits.
Tell the doc to stick to his practice
Tell the lawyer to settle his case
Send the Injun chief and his tommy-hawk
Back to Little Rain-in-the-Face.
‘Cause you know! know! know! it couldn’t be true
That anyone else could love you like I do!
Betty Hutton was a gigantic star back in the day but her fame hasn’t exactly withstood the test of time. I always liked Hutton but admit she is sort of an acquired taste. She seemed much more real and vulnerable than the refined studio movie stars of the 40s and 50s. To her credit, Betty seemed to recognize her limitations. Despite her natural charm, she never claimed to be a great beauty or the most talented singer, dancer, or actress on the lot. “I worked out of desperation,” she once said in an interview. “I used to hit fast and run in hopes that people wouldn't realize that I really couldn't do anything.” Her brief superstardom ended after some high profile films in the early 1950s (she replaced the ailing Judy Garland in “Annie Get Your Gun”) and she eventually followed in Garland’s footsteps by succumbing to drug abuse and a nervous breakdown. I remember the big story in the late 70s when Betty Hutton was discovered working as a cook in a Roman Catholic rectory in Rhode Island. She had a brief comeback playing Miss Hannigan in “Annie” on Broadway and then left the public eye again. Today she lives in quiet retirement near Palm Springs. Robert Osborne interviewed her on Turner Classic Movies in 2000 and it was fascinating to watch someone be that honest about her career and her personal problems. I think she did have a lot of talent but Hollywood never really knew what to do with her.
I then watched an MGM promotional film from the early 1950s in which Dore Schary (who had just replaced the ousted Louis B. Mayer) introduced all of studio’s upcoming films. We forget how the classic movies we all know and love were just a fraction of the studios' output. So many of the films from back then are now forgotten, many deservedly so. Stars who were wildly touted as the Next Big Thing are barely remembered today. The MGM trailers in this film enthusiastically promoted such forgotten personalities as Pier Angeli, Sally Forrest, and John Erickson. There was a lot of build-up for Nancy Reagan (who had just married Ron but was still making films under the name Nancy Davis). She was shown in several upcoming films, including one in which all of her young children were killed in a house fire while she watched from the curb, unable to help. Yikes. The studio also heralded its prestige films of the day. The promo for “King Solomon’s Mines” blared that it was “filmed entirely on location in the savage heart of equatorial Africa.” Dory Schary then raved about the biggest picture of the year. “This isn’t just another movie, it represents the apex of motion pictures. No other movie can remotely come close. I’m happy to reveal to you for the first time, some advanced scenes from the greatest picture in screen history.” What film represented such an incredible apex for the motion picture industry? “Quo Vadis” starring Robert Taylor and Deborah Kerr. Yawn.
Rounding out my TV overdose were selections from the weekend-long marathon of “That Girl” on TV Land. I hadn’t seen that show in decades and yet it all came back to me the minute I saw Marlo Thomas bickering with boyfriend Ted Bessell. In the first episode I watched, Bessell’s Don Hollinger was upset that he was stuck in an elevator with Thomas’s Ann Marie all because he had agreed to accompany her to her Women’s Liberation meeting (!). It’s easy to make fun of the show today including the cheesy openings where someone in the cast always referred to Ann as “That Girl!” but I think that Marlo Thomas really did pave the way for Mary Richards and the other women who would follow who didn’t live solely for the approval of a man. Well, most of them still wanted that approval but they didn’t live solely for it! Let’s face it, Marlo Thomas may have been a ground-breaking female character but the TV industry in the 1960s was still controlled by middle-aged Jewish guys. “That Girl” never employed a woman writer or director and its theme song would hardly be used a feminist rallying cry today:
Diamonds, Daisies, Snowflakes, That Girl
Chestnuts, Rainbows, Springtime...Is That Girl
She’s tinsel on a tree...
She’s everything that every girl should be!
Sable, Popcorn, White Wine, That Girl
Gingham, Bluebirds, Broadway...Is That Girl
She’s mine alone, but luckily for you...
If you find a girl to love,
Only one girl to love,
Then she’ll be That Girl too...That Girl!
I remember attending an event to honor “That Girl” at the Museum of Television in Beverly Hills in October 1996. The night before the cast was to gather, Ted Bessell dropped dead from an aortic aneurysm at the age of 61. Marlo Thomas and the others came to the event anyway, and held a tear-eyed tribute to their beloved co-star who had become a successful TV director. You can watch full episodes of “That Girl” here if you’re hankering for a crash course in the 1960s male-written sitcom version of feminism. You can also watch Marlo’s “Free to Be…You and Me” special from 1974, one of the first network shows for children to challenge gender and cultural stereotypes. Who can forget such classic songs as “It’s All Right to Cry” and “William’s Doll?” Oy, are these the cultural landmarks that shaped my sensibilities? No wonder I’m so screwed up. Would I have been better off using William Holden’s martini-swigging executive as a role model?
My God, what am I rambling about? Can I blame this whole post on my Nyquil-induced delirium? For now I just need to get as far away from any television set as possible.
I think that lying around and watching good movies/television is plenty of accomplishment for a sick person! I hope you feel better soon.
Posted by: Heather | December 12, 2006 at 02:14 PM
Hope you're feeling better. Don't even bother trying to learn Italian at your age. I tried, really tried, but the brain doesn't learn languages over the age of 40. Maybe 20.
And a word from one who made this mistake. Stay away from any cough medicines that have initials after them, like Robitussin DM, unless you liked those dreams, that is.
Linda
Posted by: Linda Freedman | December 12, 2006 at 06:42 PM
Danny, have you ever seen 'Miracle Mile' with Anthony Edwards? I saw it for the first time back in...oh, 1990 or so, and it's given me a steady diet of horrifying nuclear-attack-and-no-one-knows nightmares ever since.
Posted by: The Retropolitan | December 13, 2006 at 08:44 AM
Not only have I seen "Miracle Mile" but I think of it practically every day when I pass by the building (on Wilshire just east of Fairfax) from which Anthony Edwards and Mare Winningham "escape" the nuclear bomb. They make their way to the roof of this tall building and get picked up by a helicopter at the last minute—which of course would completely clear the nearby atomic blast, no?
Posted by: Danny | December 13, 2006 at 09:08 AM
Man, I love that movie. But everyone I show it to hates it.
Maybe it's because I love Tangerine Dream scores, but the movie's always been a favorite of mine. Hits me like a good nightmare.
Posted by: The Retropolitan | December 13, 2006 at 01:09 PM
Hey Danny, enjoy the rest. Yikes! I would give anything to lay in bed, watch television all day and be pampered by loved ones - so do it for me! When I was a child our family doctor always made us lie in bed one extra day even when we got better - just to make sure ... and he did house calls: Dr. Morely-Smith. He was tall with a big mustache and tartan plaid waist coat. I wish I could send him to you. He was fun! Big, deep voice and British accent.
Posted by: tamarika | December 13, 2006 at 02:42 PM
Danny, I knew I could count on you to say something about the "That Girl" marathon...I watched bits and pieces of it too, as it was my favorite show as a young girl, wanting so badly to BE Ann Marie. (I even posted about it last Mother's day). She most certainly paved the way for Mary Richard's, and I don't think I've ever heard that acknowledged. Anyhoo...hope you are feeling better!
Posted by: cruisin-mom | December 13, 2006 at 03:15 PM
Hope you're feeling better, although even from your sickbed, your writing is as witty as ever. Oh, and a note: the Gentiles in the family into which I was born play a different variation on that game, which is, "I've NEVER been as sick as YOU were that time. You know, the time we had to give up our one and only chance to [fill in the blank here] because of you?"
Posted by: Emily | December 13, 2006 at 03:45 PM
Susie pregnant with triplets? This is a time for miracles, right?
Hope you're feeling better, Danny. Did you get a bissel chicken soup?
Love,
Elaine
Posted by: Elaine Soloway | December 13, 2006 at 04:43 PM
Ahhhh such memories! You really got a major dose of TV Movies and "That Girl" too!
I saw that interview with Betty Hutton back in 2000 and when it was repeated just recently...She was so touching, wasn't she? So grateful to Bob Osborne and genuinely so...Oh Show Business...it sure can eat you up and spit you out!
And perhaps those dreams were NyQuill inspired...they sound more like semi nightmares to me, Danny. Hope you are recovering nicely, my dear...!
Posted by: OldOldLady Of The Hills | December 13, 2006 at 10:56 PM
If you want a heart-warming story while you're recuperating, I suggest On Borrowed Time with Lionel Barrymore, Sir Cedric Hardwick, and Bobs Watson. It's about a cantankerous old guy who postpones death (Cedric Hardwick) by trapping him in a tree.
Hope you feel better soon!
Posted by: Mindy | December 14, 2006 at 05:40 AM
I had the same flu, the same cough, and spent the weekend watching the same That Girl marathon. I even saw reruns - or rather I managed to catch the episode where Ann goes to work in Donald's office - twice. Unfortunately the flu medicine knocked me out and I still don't know how it ended. Did you happened to see it? Cause the suspense is killing me.
Posted by: Brooke | December 14, 2006 at 05:37 PM
Oy, of course I saw that episode. Donald feels totally stifled with Ann there and after she sends out an uncorrected story of his, he fires her! But of course they make up in the last 30 seconds. My favorite was the two-parter shot in Las Vegas with Jack Cassidy as a sleazy actor who plays a practical joke on Ann and Donald by making them believe that Donald married a Vegas showgirl during a drunken escapade the night before. When Ann finds out about the ruse, she makes Cassidy believe that she killed herself over it by jumping into the Hoover Dam. Yikes! Or did I hallucinate that ending because of the Nyquil?
Posted by: Danny | December 14, 2006 at 05:56 PM
Oh how I love thee Nyquil. Thanks for filling me in on the ending. Now I can sleep tonight...or maybe that's the Nyquil too.
Singin'...glad to have a friend like...fair and fun and skipping freeeeeee....
Posted by: Brooke | December 14, 2006 at 07:13 PM
A friend like YOU. Go Nyquil!
Posted by: Brooke | December 14, 2006 at 07:14 PM
DUUDE DANNY! U ROK! THE WHOLE marlo THANG BABY... IS hot HOT and guess wut? u be a cute fukkah!
c ya write back if u wish guy!
j a i r ( Jaime in English!) Laaaaaaate bro'!
Posted by: jair | January 07, 2007 at 11:17 PM
btw my b/f got me the two seasons DVD's thus......! even tho i did see the tv land thang in SF while visiting!
laaaate babydoll!!
Posted by: jair | January 07, 2007 at 11:19 PM
This weekend Decades is running a "That Girl" binge. I was in high school when Marlo Thomas and Ted Bessell were the perfect couple. I loved them.
Marlo's clothes were classic, great style. I would love to see those clothes on the rack today.
Posted by: Linda | June 14, 2015 at 03:40 AM