For the last few years, Stephen Sondheim and New York Times writer Frank Rich have been appearing here and there around the country for little conversations that, I gather, don't vary a lot. Mr. Rich asks Mr. Sondheim about Jerry Robbins and Ethel Merman and Company and other topics that trigger great anecdotes, and Mr. Sondheim responds in kind for about 90 minutes. Last night, they took their dog 'n' pony show to Royce Hall up at UCLA, and Carolyn and I were there...in the worst seats in the house but it almost didn't matter.
Most of the stories weren't new to anyone who's seen or read the few recorded/published Sondheim interviews, and large chunks of the man's oeuvre went unmentioned. Still, there was something enlightening about being in his presence, hearing him talk in such an unaffected manner about his work and all the brilliant folks who participated in it. He's really quite an amazing thinker and as much as I enjoyed hearing him, I wished Mr. Rich was challenging him in even the slightest manner, getting him to furrow his brow a bit and perhaps improvise a bit.
Which is not to say I didn't have a great time. My favorite story, which I've heard several times before, was as follows. It was during the creation of Gypsy that he and Jule Style were invited to play some of the score for Cole Porter, who was retired and unwell. Sondheim was singing "Together, Wherever We Go" and he came to the release which goes...
Wherever I go, I know he goes
Wherever I go, I know she goes
No fit, no fights, no feuds and no egos
Amigos!
Together!
When he hit the word "amigos," he heard Porter say "Ahh" in an approving, surprised way. It was very typical of Porter's work to surprise the listener with a foreign word like that and as Sondheim put it, "He hadn't seen the fourth rhyme coming and it delighted him." Sondheim was about 24 years old at the time and he still calls it the proudest moment of his life.
At the end, the evening's host (the gent who'd introduced Sondheim and Rich) came out to announce that Stephen's birthday is coming up — it's March 22nd, I see — and Los Angeles had to have its opportunity to sing "Happy Birthday" to him...so out came a cake and we all stood and sang a tune that Mr. Sondheim probably hears and thinks, "Gosh, that song's sung more often than all the songs I've written, put together." Or maybe Sondheim, who spoke of loving to have order in his life and of his one-time longing to be a mathematician, was thinking it was a bit premature to be celebrating. Whatever was on his mind, he didn't seem all that thrilled with the effort, but he probably understood that everyone in the audience loved him. Which was pretty much what the evening was about.
Fred Kaplan has a peachy suggestion on what George W. Bush should do once he's out of office. But somehow, I suspect that Bush will instead choose to accept huge speaking fees and various rewards from the corporations he's helped make so much money during his eight years in office.
I'll be at the Wizard World convention in Los Angeles, down at the Convention Center, all day Saturday and much of Sunday. If you want to get a copy of Kirby: King of Comics signed, wander by Booth 633. That's the space of my friend Steve Wyatt. He'll have a pile of books for sale and for a few hours each day, he'll have me. Also: On Saturday from 5 PM to 6 PM, I'll be hosting a discussion of Jack and the book in the Wizard Auditorium.
Those of you on the East Coast needn't feel neglected. I'll also be a guest at the New York Comic Con, which is being held April 18-20 at the Javits Center. There will also be a panel there about Jack, plus there will be a tribute panel for the late Steve Gerber...and I may also do a couple of panels about folks who are alive. I'll be signing the book at the convention, and then on Friday evening, April 18, I'll be doing that at Jim Hanley's Universe, a fine store situated on West 33rd St., just a giant ape's throw from the Empire State Building.
Where else am I going? Right now, to bed. It's late. Good night, Internet!
Ted Carey writes about the trailer for All That Jazz which we featured here yesterday...
I worked as an usher in the local movie theater while in college and this is the preview we showed all through the busy Christmas Season in 1979, which meant viewers of films like Kramer vs. Kramer and The Rose were getting this preview. When we started showing All That Jazz in January, there wasn't a night where (usually by the time Young Joe climaxes during his dance routine) patrons wouldn't be out in the lobby to complain about the nature of the movie and asking if this was the same film they had seen previews for. Many specifically said they were expecting A Chorus Line. Many were older women (although all of a sudden, fifty isn't all that old, eh?) who had (for the most part) never been to an "R" rated movie before. We rarely ever had patrons asking for their money back, no matter how bad the movie was — I'll say it didn't happen five times a year. For All That Jazz, it wasn't unusual to have that many and more ask each showing and I always knew it was because these people felt they had been deceived. We always gave full cash refunds (often for the popcorn and drinks as well as the ticket) and often threw in a free pass for another night.
That being said, I always enjoyed the movie and it did good business for the month or so we showed it.
Yeah, it's kind of a deceptive trailer...and it's interesting that they used the "Bye Bye Life" song in it. I would have thought they'd want to hide all suggestions that it was a movie about Death and instead use "On Broadway" or some other tune.
I would have thought a lot of patrons would have walked out and demanded refunds when they got to the scenes of open heart surgery. I once met Wallace Shawn, who was in the film...but he told me that many people didn't know that. The reason was that his scenes were intercut with the open heart footage and (he said) much of the audience either closed their eyes or walked out then. (Remember Johnny Carson's line about those scenes? He said, "Every filmgoer in America should be glad that Bob Fosse didn't have a proctology operation.")
Some time ago here, we discussed the 1961 primetime cartoon series, Calvin and the Colonel, but I never got around to linking to a clip. Here's one of the two sets of opening and closing titles that the show had during its one season. The theme song was catchy but I never thought it was a great program, and am not surprised that it didn't catch on.
The end credits contain the names of some very talented folks who were then working in the animation business, though it's hard to read some of them. It's especially hard to read the credits for the background painters because of the color used to paint the background behind their names. I guess that's fitting...or something.
March 15, 2008
