Once more, I’m afraid I’m giving the “Screening Room” slightly short shrift (what is a shrift anyway?) this week—and for much the same reason as last week: the Asheville Film Festival. Considering I sat through 14 feature films on Monday and Tuesday (don’t try this at home), I have neither the time, nor the energy to get into anything too deep dish this week. (But I have plans…oh, yes, plans.) This means you’re in for another piece where I indulge in reminiscence. This, by the way, is the sort of thing that happens to you as slide perilously toward dotage—a destination I don’t plan on fully reaching for a couple weeks yet.
So gather ‘round, whilst I attempt to regale you with the grim story of my “old Bob Hope injury.” “His what?” you say. Well, I assure you the statement is 100% true, explicable and probably only very slightly embellished for dramatic effect. (This last you can get away with more and more on the Road to Dotage.)
This is a sorrowful tale that takes us back a full 40 years. Well, it takes me back 40 years, the younger of you will have to use your imaginations. Now, in order that you may get the good out of my story, you have to get a grasp on the remote era of 1968. We didn’t think it was remote at the time, of course, because it wasn’t. From this perspective, however, I can see that comparatively speaking we were in the stone-chisel-and-tablet stage of communications (I had a Remington portable actually, but I was a little advanced).
Television, while not exactly in its infancy, was at best a gawky adolescent in technical terms. We are talking about a period in time where people with color TVs would watch Bonanza, but not because of any intrinsic dramatic merit. (Face it, the show had two plots—one of the sons would get into trouble and the others would get him out of it, or one of them would get engaged and the writers would have to figure out how to kill the woman off by the end of the show.) They watched it because it had “good color.” People called it a “simpler time.” On occasions such as this it really seems a more simple-minded time.
The big drawback to television lay in choices of viewing material and reception. The younger among you may have trouble imagining a world where instead of having access to a hundred channels of nothing, you had access to maybe four or five channels of nothing. It is, however, the way things were. The term reception may mean almost nothing to those who’ve only ever had cable, but reception is at the very heart of my story. I shall explain.
In 1968 cable TV was fairly rare and it only meant you were kind of hooked up to a very large central antenna that allowed more channels from greater distances to make it to your home. We didn’t have even that. We had an antenna. Now, those wealthier than we appeared to have been had these things called “rotors” on their antennae. These were wired to a box that usually set on top of the TV (almost always contained in some massive and massively ugly cabinetry in an attempt to disguise it as furniture). By turning the knob atop this box, it was possible to rotate the antenna in order to theoretically pick up a better signal and a better picture (this way, your enjoyment of Bonanza‘s “good color” would be enhanced). We didn’t have one of these. We had a monkey wrench.
That monkey wrench (which may have been pilferred from the tool kit of a 1953 MG TD sports car) was very often a life-saver. A jaunt into the backyard with this allowed us to turn the antenna in a more propitous direction for what was to be watched. This was fairly essential living in Lake Wales, Florida, since it’s in the position of being about 65 miles east of Tampa and 55 miles west of Orlando (that’s pre-sprawl Orlando; it’s probably five miles now what with creeping theme parks) So you turned the antenna one way or the other.
It was a simple arrangement (in keeping with the simple times) and it suited my parents fine, since it allowed them access to the three basic networks—NBC, CBS, ABC—and they were nothing if not network watchers. I, on the other hand, was after different, more esoteric fare that came with local programming. So Channel 9 out of Orlando was fine with them for ABC and the ABC affilliate Channel 10 out of Largo was superfluous as far as they were concerned. Such wasn’t necessarily true for me, especially as concerned the late show. The problem was that the Largo station was hard to get. The conventional wisdom of the time was that this was because the signal passed over the phosphate mines situated between Lake Wales and Largo. Today, that sounds about as scientific to me as the idea that bad phone connections were due to starlings sitting on the wires, but I accepted it then—sort of.
I learned that a little careful fine-tuning with the monkey wrench might allow one to watch the Largo station, though not perhaps all that clearly. As a result, I tentatively added the station to my list of possible sources for catching movies. Sometimes this worked, sometimes it didn’t (Atmospheric conditions? Phosphate mines? Starlings? An out-of-sorts deity?). So scanning the TV Guide in my then typically religious manner, one week I chanced upon the fact that Saturday night this iffy venue was showing Alexander Hall’s The Great Lover (1949) with Bob Hope, Rhonda Fleming and Roland Young. A Bob Hope picture I hadn’t seen? Well, that was certainly worth a little monkey wrench business.
Saturday night came and I was all set, armed with the aforementioned tool of fine-tuning. Being pathologically early for just about anything you care to name, I tuned in and played with the antenna around 11 p.m.—the movie was at 11:30. I was greatly pleased to see that I had a pretty decent picture (i.e., you could see what was going on) so I sat back and made my way through the 11 o’clock news (the bane of my youthful existence as concerns getting to the late show). The question was—would my luck hold?
The signal started being a little dicey—drifting in and out on occasion—about 11:25, but no young cineaste armed with a monkey wrench is going to be daunted by that. Then it happened just as the anticipated film itself was about to start—the picture collapsed alogether into a flurry of snow, white noise and general nothingness. Naturally, I was on my feet in a heartbeat and headed for the backyard. And this is when disaster struck.
In my haste to get to the antenna, I had foolishly forgotten that there was a drop of a little over a foot between the kitchen and the utility room that led to the backyard. This miscalculation resulted in an unseemly crashing to the oh-so-hard terrazzo floor by yours truly. I have no doubt that it looked most amusing from the outside—or would have had there been anyone to witness my misfortune. It was not in the least humorous from my perspective. I had landed badly on my right ankle, twisting it in a manner that produced a nausea-inducing pain the like of which I had never experienced in my life. I tried calling out for assistance of some kind, but my parents were watching TV in the back of the house and heard nothing.
As the pain subsided a bit, I managed to stand up, thinking, that perhaps this wasn’t so bad after all. Putting pressure on the foot, however, proved to be what we call a bad idea. Still, I reckoned that it would be a simple matter to, well, hop out to the antenna and make the adjustment. This, naturally, is what I did. How I got back up into the kitchen is a detail lost in the mists of time, but I’m proud to say that I was situated in front of the TV just as the opening—very snowy—credits were ending. Despite considerable discomfort (not that doing anything else would have changed that) I watched Mr. Hope’s staunch efforts at entertaining me for the next 90 minutes. After this, I merely hopped my way to bed.
The following morning, I was not entirely surprised that the ankle was considerably larger than normal and that it was absolutely impossible to stand on it. The question of it being broken seems not to have entered anyone’s head. Instead, I had my first encounter with the world of the Ace Bandage, which, yes, did help. Soon I was limping about with all the agility of a damaged 90-year-old. Within days, I merely had a slight limp. The problem with that is that here we are 40 years later and guess what? I still have that limp.
When a medical opinion was sought—as a kind of sidelight to a different doctor visit—it was one of those cheery moments where one hears those words, “It would have probably been better if he had broken it.” (Doctors with 14-year-olds have a remarkable tendency to speak to the mother rather than the presumably rather thick-skulled child.) The upshot of all this was the idea that my misadventure would in all probability always be with me. How jolly.
There are two aspects of this that strike me as sad. Let’s look at them separately starting with the film itself. In truth, The Great Lover is simply not very good. (I don’t care that Leonard Maltin—at least on the cover of the frankly poor quality DVD—awarded it four stars. Mr. Maltin tends to be a little gushy on anything made before 1965.) Even as a Bob Hope fan, I have to admit that this is not one of his finer moments. It’s at best a servicable premise that’s blandly executed. Bob’s a kind of scoutmaster (they’re called Boy Rangers) chaperoning a group of uniformed youths back from a trip to France. He has to adhere to the Boy Rangers creed at all times—no smoking, no drinking, no women (you are allowed to kiss your mother). This works about as well as you might expect.
A plot involving a card-sharp and serial-strangler (Roland Young) comes into play, as does a romance with an impoverished duchess played by Rhonda Fleming, who appeared the same year with Bing Crosby in A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. (There seems to have been a rule—probably fraught with subtext of some kind—that Hope and Crosby would inevitably have the same leading ladies even if it wasn’t a “Road Picture.”) There is a pretty funny cameo from Jack Benny that finds the two comics trying to get a look at each other’s toupees. And there’s a pleasant enough song for Hope and Fleming about mid-picture that affords some allure. But all in all, it’s an indifferent affair and the scenes of Hope being belittled by Boy Rangers wears thin—to the point of being mildly offensive—pretty fast.
Goodness knows, if you’re going to damage yourself permanently, it ought to be for a better movie than The Great Lover. I looked at it again for this article. (Yeah, I own it—I picked it up out of a dump bin for five bucks a few years ago. Even so, I had to take the shrinkwrap off yesterday in order to view it.) It definitely isn’t a film worth such a price. Couldn’t it at least have been Citizen Kane or, maybe, Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla? That would lend some kind of cinematic street cred to the whole thing, but, no, it was grade B Bob Hope.
The other sad thing is that my ankle isn’t even any good as a weather-detecting-device. You’d think that such an injury might at least allow one to predict rain or snow, but such is just not the case. Oh, it’s painful on occasion, but that seems to have no meteoroligical significance whatsoever. It’s a dirty gyp, but I fear that notion must be consigned to the same realm as TV signals across phosphate mines and starlings on phone lines.
However, let’s be honest. There’s something to be said for being able to complain that my “old Bob Hope injury” is acting up. Few, if indeed any other, people can make that claim. Let the more athletically-inclined have their trick knees, calcium deposits, and football or badminton injuries of various kinds. I at least can lay claim to a bonafide movie-related problem—and that’s kind of apt, all things considered. Sure, it could have been a little more impressive, but it could have been so much worse. Imagine the personal embarassment one would experience over an “old Martin and Lewis injury.” At least, I was spared that!
Ken: “Considering I sat through 14 feature films on Monday and Tuesday (don’t try this at home), I have neither the time, nor the energy to get into anything too deep dish this week.”
B I N G O ! This why you are often cynical, Ke3n. Too many flicks. perhaps you should consider reviewing fewer films, and enjoying them more. By the way, when was the last time you laughed? perhaps you also need to loosen up a little Ken.
B I N G O ! This why you are often cynical, Ke3n. Too many flicks. perhaps you should consider reviewing fewer films, and enjoying them more. By the way, when was the last time you laughed? perhaps you also need to loosen up a little Ken.
Well, I could say that perhaps you should consider making fewer posts. But in truth, it’s not the number of films you review, but the quality of them that matters. Then again, it’s not the quantity of how many posts you make, but the quality of them that matters, too.
And not that that it’s in the least pertinent, but I laughed only this afternoon.
AH… I seem to recall this story. And it does not surprise me a bit.
My “stupid film injury” was not as permanent, but it was quite painful.
I, too, read TV Guide as a bible. I believe they listed horror films as “melodramas” back in the day. And, back in the day, we had one decent television.
The BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN was about to appear, and I had to get to the set before my father claimed it for a baseball game. I ran in the front door…and tore off my largest toenail on the bottom of the screen door–pain…blood… Tuned in the TV before I ran to the kitchen to grab some paper towels to staunch the blood. (Leaving some appropriate bloodstains on the light gray carpet).
At least my injury was incurred in the quest of a very good film.
And a thin film of toenail quickly covers the injury and it could be polished!
At least my injury was incurred in the quest of a very good film.
Indeed, yes, and there’s not much question that an “Old James Whale Injury” trumps an “Old Bob Hope Injury.”
Ken, for a guy all busy with the coming “film festival” (wow what a yawn this is), you sure spend a lot of time on here posting away. Could it be the “films” at the festival just aren’t that demanding?
Ken,
Your story made me smile. I wonder if you used to watch Nostalgia Theater on channel 13 in Tampa? When I was going to college at U.S.F. in 1974-78, every Friday night at 11:30 Nostalgia Theater would serve up all the classic Warner Bros. movies, like “Now Voyager,” “The Big Sleep,” “Gentleman Jim,” “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” etc. For a movie buff, it was film heaven.
My tale of woe occurred one night when I was watching “The Letter.” I was trying to arrange the electrical cord around my desk area in my dorm room, stapling it against the bulletin board. I put a staple right through the cord and electrocuted myself! I wasn’t very hurt, but I burnt out my 12-inch BxW Panasonic portable TV!
It took me years to get around to watching the rest of “The Letter” — I think I was traumatized!
Allison Solow
P.S. My husband considers your Charlie Chan book to be the authority when it comes to Chan.
Ken, for a guy all busy with the coming “film festival” (wow what a yawn this is), you sure spend a lot of time on here posting away.Could it be the “films” at the festival just aren’t that demanding?
Well, they’re certainly no Larry the Cable Guy material, nor are they Caddyshack, so I doubt you’d be interested.
Ken, I love a good slap stick, sometimes even silly, comedy routine. As one who has frequented comedy clubs in the past, I have a little background as a consumer. Comedians just get a certain groove going and it funny. I’ve loved Larry the Cable Guy on Blue Collar Comedy, as well as the others there. I don’t think you can intellectualize comedy, it is just funny or it isn’t. I guess you thought up Caddyshack at random, but I do like that one too. As well as the Crosby/Hope Road pictures, the 3 Stooges, Laurel & Hardy, the old Saturday Night regulars…Akroyd, Chevy Chase, Bill Murray, Roseann-a-dan-a-danna, Bawawa, and of course John Belushi. Animal House…a real classic. Hey, call me less-than-artsy, but I love comedy.
Ken, I do hope you find at least some things fun, and funny. And I hope you have a successful film festival. I wish I had known the star of Ice Castles and One On One would be there last year. I would’ve come on down. You have a good one!
I wonder if you used to watch Nostalgia Theater on channel 13 in Tampa? When I was going to college at U.S.F. in 1974-78, every Friday night at 11:30 Nostalgia Theater would serve up all the classic Warner Bros. movies, like “Now Voyager,” “The Big Sleep,” “Gentleman Jim,” “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” etc.
Allison, we missed each other very narrowly at USF. I went there 1972-73. (I survived a quarter in Beta 333 and two quarters in Iota 108. I detested dorm life.) Indeed, there’s every chance we might’ve gone to the same screenings if you went to any of the movies in Lang/Lit 103 (I think the name got changed to Arts and Letters) or the engineering auditorium, because I was back at USF as a viewer lots of times after 1973. I saw all of Chaplin’s films from Shoulder Arms through A King in New York there (I think that was ’74, but it might have been ’73). Saw The Ruling Class there several times — also The Music Lovers, Women in Love, The Boy Friend, The Devils, Tommy, Lisztomania (lotta Ken Russell showed there it seems), Unfaithfully Yours, Chinatown. There was a marathon Columbia Pictures festival that had to have been in the 1974-75 range where I saw Platinum Blonde, Twentieth Century, Only Angels Have Wings and The Wrong Box.
I do not, however, specifically recall “Nostalgia Theater,” though I certainly recall Channel 13. The appeal of a lot of WB films might not have been so great for me by 1974, though, because for a long time that was all Channel 44 had, so the WB package was something I’d been through. By then Channel 44 had acquired the MCA package, which included all the old Paramounts and I’d gravitated to them.
I put a staple right through the cord and electrocuted myself! I wasn’t very hurt, but I burnt out my 12-inch BxW Panasonic portable TV!
That seems as spectacular in its own way as my injury — and like Arlene’s mishap has the advantage of being in the service of a better movie than The Great Lover.
P.S. My husband considers your Charlie Chan book to be the authority when it comes to Chan.
Thank him for me. That book — amazingly still in print — is 20 years old now, and it’s nice to find people still like it. Odd, it should come up now, since last week I received the final set of Charlie Chan films from Fox. I haven’t had the nerve to look at the documentary with my interview in it, though.
I don’t think you can intellectualize comedy, it is just funny or it isn’t.
Well, yes, you can intellectualize some comedy, but the biggest realization needs to be that what you find funny isn’t a universal thing. I had a girlfriend once who hated the Marx Brothers (and the Beatles) — it helped doom that relationship.
I guess you thought up Caddyshack at random
I wouldn’t say that exactly.
I love comedy.
So do I, but with the exception of the “Road” pictures and Laurel and Hardy, I don’t much love the comedy you do.
Ken, I do hope you find at least some things fun, and funny.
Just because I’m a godless liberal doesn’t mean I don’t find things fun and funny.
And I hope you have a successful film festival.
Well, it isn’t my film festival. I’m simply involved in it.
I wish I had known the star of Ice Castles and One On One would be there last year. I would’ve come on down.
Robby’s been there before, but he won’t be this year, unfortunately. He’s a nice guy and a friend of mine. We were two of the judges for features last year — along with Don Mancini.
Ken, I remember that Columbia Film Festival at USF vividly. It was a non-stop feast of movies that I had never seen. I think we were in the same screening of Platinum Blonde and Only Angels Have Wings! Do you remember when USF did an MGM festival the next/same year? That was my first chance to see The Bandwagon, The Pirate and a bunch of others on the big screen. Yes, it was in the Engineering Building, too — not LET 103 (the arts & letters bldg.).
Did you know Knocky Parker? I took all his film/literature courses. He was a hoot. Also, did you take any film classes or mass comm there? Just curious.
BTW, if you did, that makes at least 3 published authors from USF — you, Tom Gilbert (The Desilu Story) and me (The Barbra Streisand Scrapbook)!
Allison Waldman is my writing name.
Ken, I remember that Columbia Film Festival at USF vividly. It was a non-stop feast of movies that I had never seen. I think we were in the same screening of Platinum Blonde and Only Angels Have Wings!
Since they were only shown once, we had to have been.
Do you remember when USF did an MGM festival the next/same year?
No, but I remember the one in 1973 very well — 16 movies between Friday at 7 p.m. and Sunday at noon (I think, mighta been 3 p.m.). Two friends and I went to every one of them except Camille. That was still in the heyday of the college level Marx Bros. madness, too, and they ran A Day at the Races and A Night at the Opera. If memory serves, the former was slated for 1 or 2 a.m. on Friday. It finally started about 3, because people who couldn’t get tickets rushed the door. There really wasn’t much they could do and — in violation of every known firecode — there were people sitting all over the floor and those terraced steps of the Engineering Auditorium.
I don’t suppose you were there for the midnight show of The Gang’s All Here where all the drag queens showed up dressed in the height of Carmen Miranda fashion? We had streakers once at another midnight show (I kinda think it was a double bill of Little Caesar and Public Enemy).
Did you know Knocky Parker? I took all his film/literature courses. He was a hoot. Also, did you take any film classes or mass comm there? Just curious.
I didn’t know Knocky Parker, but I certainly knew of him. He played piano once at a very long screening (they were showing it at silent speed) of the 1926 Ben Hur when I was there. He got cheesed, though, when someone called out, “Play ‘Sentimental Journey!'” during Christ’s walk to crucifixion and stopped playing. I was technically a mass comm major (that’s all there was, not a separate film major in 1972), but I bailed after a year, so I’m the dropout published USF author, I guess.
You mean there IS an Asheville Film Festival this year? Who would know for heaven’s sake? There hasn’t been a word about anywhere except for a few vague comments in blogs and such. The festival’s site finally was updated, but unless you just happened to go there, you be SOL if you planned to attend. Ken, you must be spending a lot of time watching films that no one else will see, since the public has no clue about the event. Sounds like an awful lot of effort for naught. Where is the press on this alleged event?
udneverno,
Good news on the way: Our cover story tomorrow is a special guide to both the Asheville Film Festival and the Asheville Rejects Film Festival, which occur simultaneously. You should find most if not all of the info you seek there.
Jon Elliston
Managing Editor
Bit late don’t you think? How are people supposed to make plans all of a week out?
Bit late don’t you think? How are people supposed to make plans all of a week out?
Yes, it is a bit late, but it was done as it could be done. I guess it depends to some degree on how far in advance you plan your schedule, though.
I thought the festival was supposed to attract people from out of town to Asheville. If no word has gone out in the press outside the local media, how were people to schedule a trip? Seems to me that the new “organizer” who took the Porter woman’s post is no organizer at all.
I thought the festival was supposed to attract people from out of town to Asheville. If no word has gone out in the press outside the local media, how were people to schedule a trip? Seems to me that the new “organizer” who took the Porter woman’s post is no organizer at all.
In all fairness, you might note that the new organizer was only put into that position either in late August or even early September. The fact that she’s gotten as much done as she has in the time allowed her is pretty remarkable.
Am I saying that everything is skittles and beer with the festival? Not in the least. Yes, it is supposed to attract people from out of town, and, no, that’s obviously not going to work as well as it might have. Trust me, I have my own issues with the film festival and the way things have been handled — especially this year — but I don’t really think that complaining about it and pointing fingers (especially where they don’t need to be pointed) is helpful or constructive — nor, for that matter, does it have much relation to the topic of this column.
Ken, You started the column referencing the festival, so my inquiry was certainly germane. And no, I don’t know the new organizer, but it’s my understanding she came from the staff. So are you saying there was advance publicity material and not one organization in the regional media bit?
Ken, You started the column referencing the festival, so my inquiry was certainly germane.
Well, it was germane to a passing explanation as to why I was writing a column strictly about a personal story that only had a rather tenuous connection to movies. That explanation, however, is not the substance of the column.
And no, I don’t know the new organizer, but it’s my understanding she came from the staff.
And so she did, but how does that change what I said? If she was not put in Melissa’s position until very recently, how can her organizational skills be fairly assessed? Being on the staff and actually being in charge or having the authority to be in charge are not interchangeable.
So are you saying there was advance publicity material and not one organization in the regional media bit?
I never said or suggested anything of the kind.
My question to you is what point are you trying to make with all this? Is there something to be gained in trying to make an imperfect situation worse by being negative about it and casting about for someone to blame?
1 – True but there was nothing else in the media about the event, so your blog was seemed the logical place to pose the question based on your role in the festival and the original post.
2 – You’d think that someone who was on staff and the appointed person to step in would have the understanding that publicity was necessary to make the festival succeed.
3 – My point is that if the festival is to be successful, better organization is needed than was offered. That’s all. Blame lies somewhere, and if she is running the show, it is ultimately her responsibility.
1 – True but there was nothing else in the media about the event, so your blog was seemed the logical place to pose the question based on your role in the festival and the original post.
Yes, but once your question was answered, was it the place to carry it on? There is apparently a topic about the festival on the Xpress forums.
2 – You’d think that someone who was on staff and the appointed person to step in would have the understanding that publicity was necessary to make the festival succeed
What part of my responses about this are you not understanding? When someone is pushed into a position virtually at the last minute and is left to pull everything together and does not have full and final authority, but has to follow dictates completely beyond her control, it’s not just a case of what she does or doesn’t understand. It’s a case of what she can and cannot do, and the amount of time she has to do it in.
3 – My point is that if the festival is to be successful, better organization is needed than was offered. That’s all. Blame lies somewhere, and if she is running the show, it is ultimately her responsibility.
I don’t know what your agenda is, but do you even know who is “running the show?” Define “running the show.” What’s your position in all this? Have you helped to make the festival work or tried to? (I don’t know, because you seem to have showed up specifically for making these posts.) Do you feel that you’re helping matters in any way? Or is that not where your interest in this lies?
1 – The responses came on here from Jon Elliston and you, so yes, the thread was the way to go.
2 – How hard is it to issue one press release to update people about the status?
3 – From what I know now, Sandra Travis was the person in question. My position in all this is that I have invested time and money in the festival in years past, faithfully driving from a good distance away to share in the experience. Had I been afforded adequate notice this year, I could have done the same, but I will be unable to see a single film. My hope in raising the issue is to make people involved aware of the problem so that such a debacle will not occur again and the festival will thrive.
My hope in raising the issue is to make people involved aware of the problem so that such a debacle will not occur again and the festival will thrive.
Reasonable enough, but I don’t think that posting in a thread called “My Old Bob Hope Injury” is going to call the attention to it that you’re looking for.
There will doubtless be more on the festival situation after the fact where these things will be addressed. That is where your input will be of greater value. Here, the only person involved you’ve actually alerted is probably me — and I already knew there was a problem, one I’m trying to make the best of.
Ken, Thanks for the last reply. I searched around and came across an article on a Tennessee newspaper’s site that addressed the void of publicity and alerted people in that community about the festival. (The author credited you if memory serves.) So, maybe some out-of-towners will make it this weekend, after all. Good luck with getting the problems resolved for next year. I’ll be happy to renew my support in ’09 and attend again. I really hate missing the whole weekend this year. My input for next year is simply this: Stay on top of the advance publicity to attract people to the festival. The product is high quality, but why have a festival that only draws from a small circle that already participates in Asheville life?
You are preaching to the choir, trust me.