Category Archives: To Be Filed

Voice actor John Stephenson died Friday night at the age of 91. He had been suffering from Alzheimer's for some time and living in a nursing home. Several years ago, reports of his declining health somehow led to a series of erroneous Internet reports that he had passed. This time, sadly, it's so.

Stephenson's long, prolific career began in 1948 when he moved to Hollywood from his native Wisconsin. He quickly became a working actor on radio dramas and began landing roles in film and on television. In fact, it would be hard to find a TV show filmed in Hollywood between 1953 and about 1968 that he didn't guest on. You can catch him on reruns of The Lone Ranger, The Beverly Hillbillies, F Troop, Get Smart, Green Acres, Hogan's Heroes, Perry Mason, That Girl, The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show, The People's Choice, The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis and so many more. In the sixties though, he was getting so much work in voiceovers that he abandoned his "on camera" career.

He did hundreds of commercials and announcing jobs. His was the voice that announced the verdicts at the end of the sixties' Dragnet series.

And he worked incessantly in cartoons, mainly for Hanna-Barbera. He was heard often on the original Flintstones series, voicing Fred's boss Mr. Slate and dozens of supporting characters. On the series Top Cat, he spoke for the character Fancy-Fancy and, again, dozens of supporting characters. On Jonny Quest, he was Dr. Benton Quest. On other H-B shows, he played recurring and guest roles to the extent that he may have been the most-heard actor in their productions. Joe Barbera loved him and the feeling was mutual. (I took the above photo of him at a party for Mr. Barbera.)

The Internet Movie Database lists 232 credits for him as both an on-camera and voiceover actor. I would bet that's less than a tenth of all he did.

John was heard on many of the shows I worked on for H-B but I only met him briefly a few times. He was efficient and professional and a very good actor, much respected by his peers. We will all miss him but we will continue to hear him.

This post ran here on September 9, 2002 and I have to confess that it contains one untruth. Near the end, you'll see me tell how I took a lady named Liz to the Palms Theater to see the film, Blue Water, White Death. This is a lie. Shortly after I posted it, I realized I actually took Liz to see something else (I forget what) at the Palms and we saw Blue Water, White Death at the Cinerama Dome up in Hollywood. Since everything else I wrote was true, I didn't bother correcting it but I should have. This is how Brian Williams got in trouble.

Also: I said in it I hadn't seen Liz since that night. That was true when I wrote it but it's not true now. Among the many amazing things the Internet does for us is that in enables us to reconnect with folks from our pasts. That's not always a good thing but in this case, I was delighted to hear again from Liz, who now lives in San Diego, and I see her almost every year at Comic-Con. I don't understand why she has aged so little since the seventies but I guess it's just one of those mysteries of life like how bumblebees are able to fly and why Chelsea Handler has a career. Here is the otherwise accurate post from 2002…

It isn't there now but there used to be a wonderful old movie house in Culver City called the Palms Theater. It was a friendly place to see a film — not fancy but comfy, not plush but cheap. The big, first-run movies went to the fancier theaters in Westwood, all of them affiliated with national chains. The Palms, fiercely independent to its dying day, usually offered up two second-run pictures, with a few trailers and a cartoon sandwiched between.

The best thing about the Palms was its recorded announcement. I don't know who recorded them but he always commenced with "Shalom, Bubala," and he was always hysterical. My favorite, which I shall now attempt to re-create, came when they booked a double-feature of Walter Matthau pics. It went very much like this, and it will probably be funnier if you read it aloud…

Shalom, Bubala. This is the exotic Palms Theater on picturesque Motor Avenue in beautiful Culver City. This week, we are featuring Plaza Suite, starring Walter Matthau and Lee Grant, Walter Matthau and Maureen Stapleton, and Walter Matthau and Barbara Harris. We are also featuring A New Leaf, starring Walter Matthau and Elaine May. In other words — Walter Matthau, ad nauseum. Here's your chance to get so sick of Walter Matthau you'll never have to see another Walter Matthau movie as long as you live.

Drive up to the theater where our parking lot attendant, Walter Matthau, will show you where to park. Then buy a ticket from our box office attendant, Walter Matthau, and have it torn in half by our ticket taker, Walter Matthau. Visit our refreshment stand where our counterman Walter Matthau will gladly sell you a large, Walter Matthau-sized soft drink and a box of Jujubees, every one of them in the shape of Walter Matthau. You will be seated by our usher, Walter Matthau, and then our projectionist (Walter Matthau) will start the program, commencing with a Walter Matthau cartoon, a Walter Matthau newsreel, and coming attractions of more than seventeen thousand Walter Matthau films.

Next week, we're featuring two more movies. We don't know what they are yet but we can guarantee you that they won't have Walter Matthau in them. In fact, we will give you a double-your-money-back No Walter Matthau guarantee.

If you read it the way the guy on the phone read it, it's hysterical. (And here's an interesting example of how just the right word is important in comedy. If you read the same speech with Jack Lemmon's name in there, it's only about half as funny. Try it and see.)

I used to go to the Palms about once a month — sometimes with my parents, sometimes with a date — but I made a point of phoning each week to hear what the "Shalom, Bubala" guy had to say. I wasn't the only one. People who had no interest whatsoever in going to the Palms Theater used to call in sufficient quantity that the Palms had to install extra phone lines.

I can remember some of the movies I saw there — Airport, Paint Your Wagon, The Odd Couple…(This last was obviously before the "No Walter Matthau" policy went into effect). I even remember the first time I took a date to the Palms.

It was Blue Water, White Death, a documentary about sharks that I'd have passed on, had it not been for Liz. She wanted to see it and I was willing to take Liz anywhere, just as long as I could sneak my arm around her.

I was just buying two General Admissions at the Palms (not from Walter Matthau) when Liz said to me, "I feel I have to see this movie. I have a terrible fear of sharks."

I stopped in the doorway, right by the non-Matthau usher. "Why do you have to see this movie if you're afraid of sharks?" I asked.

"I'm hoping that if I confront my fear, I will get over it," she replied.

Well, it sounded good in theory but she spent the entire movie with her nails dug into my arm and/or thigh, and left the Palms so upset that she asked me to take her straight home. This was not what I'd had in mind for the balance of the evening. I haven't seen Liz since that night. I have, however, seen her fingernail marks on my arm and thigh.

And I haven't seen the Palms Theater since shortly after that. One day when I drove past, the marquee proclaimed, in lieu of movie titles, that it was "Closed until further notice." The next time I cruised Motor Avenue, it said, "Closed forever." And the next time, there was no marquee…or Palms Theater.

It looks like Walter had the last laugh.

Penn Jillette on the pending implosion of the Riviera Hotel in Las Vegas.

Merrill Markoe was the original Head Writer — and some would say "person who had most of the ideas which people credit to David Letterman" — for David Letterman's talk shows. She has certainly been woefully undercredited for his success, which may not be surprising. A lot of people just plain want to believe that all the funny comes from the person who speaks it aloud. (I once dated a lady who, in much the same manner, knew but did not want to believe that her favorite actors in action movies had stuntmen and that the stars did not actually do those spectacular feats themselves.)

Also, I suspect that Ms. Markoe has been shorted on recognition by some folks' unwillingness to accept that all those funny ideas came from a woman. But everyone who was around Letterman's shows in the early days seems to recognize how essential she was to all that success. Here's a recent interview with her.

And here she is picking some of her favorite moments from those shows.

Harvey Kurtzman was one of the most talented creative talents who ever worked in comics. Sadly, since he did his best work before about 1980, that means he was not compensated at a level commensurate with the financial impact of that work. He didn't make that much more money than someone whose work did not make its publisher a multi-millionaire. He also had trouble attaining and maintaining a work situation where he could do his best work with some measure of control over how it appeared.

He created MAD, of course, and served as editor-writer (and occasional artist) of its classic early issues in comic book format and the first few when it became a not-very-slick "slick magazine." Before that, he'd done the same duties on a couple of highly-regarded war comics for the same publisher, EC Comics. Neither job paid that well, given the time and care Kurtzman put into his work.

He was a slow 'n' steady creator who was known to spend hours on one panel, doing it over and over just to get it right. Some of Kurtzman's associates felt that this was not a function of perfectionism so much as anxiety; that all the extra time and care did not substantially improve the work and may even have done a bit of damage. That's probably an unprovable premise and even if true, it doesn't change the fact that this great talent never quite found the right gig…never quite found a place where he could both do the work as he wanted to do and be paid the way he wanted to be paid. It always seemed to be one or the other.

He left MAD because he wanted a piece of the gold mine he'd located and more control over the product. He then did a magazine called Trump for Hugh Hefner. It was too expensive at a time when Hef couldn't afford it so it lasted two issues. He then did a magazine called Humbug that he and his associates more or less published themselves. There were problems with the package, the printing, the distribution and maybe to some extent the content. It failed. He then did a magazine called Help! and it was seriously underfunded, its best material lost in a chintzy package that never caught on.

Though he did other things — you might be surprised how many Schelly names — Kurtzman largely paid the bills after Help! crashed producing the Little Annie Fanny strip for Playboy. It was a body of work (or maybe a work of body) that sometimes showed flashes of the Kurtzman brilliance between more frequent flashes of the title character's physique. It may also have been the most micro-managed comic strip ever done. Though the pay was there, it could not have been a particularly joyous experience for someone who in his previous ventures had enjoyed so much creative freedom. It was certainly a lot less than Harvey had to offer the world.

I have always found Kurtzman's story fascinating and frustrating, and wished I'd had more than our few encounters to learn more about this extraordinary talent. Well, I learned a lot more reading the new, most enjoyable biography by my friend, Bill Schelly. I highly endorse and recommend Harvey Kurtzman: The Man Who Created Mad and Revolutionized Humor in America, which you can order from Amazon via this link.

Though 644 pages long, it reads like a breeze and I was sorry it was over when it was. It is scrupulously researched and filled with grand insights into its subject without forcing you into one particular interpretation. I find many of Kurtzman's decisions, both creative and financial, highly arguable. That he was a better writer-artist than career manager seems incontestable but it's often hard to see what he should have done instead and I came away from the book feeling, "Gee, what a shame that the industry never had the proper place for a guy as talented as Harvey Kurtzman." You may or may not arrive where I did.

If you're interested in comic book history and especially the comics Kurtzman did, you've probably already ordered this fine book. It should also be of note to those intrigued by the problems of being a creative talent — then and even now — balancing the twin needs of making a living and doing work of which you can be proud. Those brief times I had with Harvey (and long talks with some of his associates) led me to believe that many of his problems flowed from his disquietude about declaring a given piece of work finished and ready for public inspection.

Jack Kirby — a man misused by his industry in mostly-different ways — could finish five pages a day and without a moment of hesitation, send them instantly off into the assembly line for publication. Kurtzman could not. He shared Jack's inability to get paid what he was worth but he had other complications, toiling in a field that expected work to be produced at a Kirby (and not a Kurtzman) pace. Schelly also captures well the human side of his subject — a very nice man who loved the form of comics and did so much to advance it despite his struggles. Do yourself a favor and read all about him.

Folks who once said the survival of our country depending on us invading Iraq are now saying, "Okay, it was a mistake but it was an understandable one based on the faulty intelligence we had at the time." Josh Marshall reminds us what really happened and how it was all built on a lot of deception.

Matt Taibbi thinks the recent scuffle between President Obama and Elizabeth Warren on the trade deal is just cynical triangulation. He may be right. "Progressives," these days, seem to go out of their way to not be too progressive.

So let me see if I have this straight…

Jeb Bush was asked if, given what we know now, he would have authorized the invasion of Iraq. He said yes.

Then he said he misheard the question and did not know what he would have done.

Then he said he would not answer the question because that would be a "disservice" to our troops.

Then today he answered the question and said that given what we know now, he would not have authorized the invasion of Iraq.

Okay, is that it? And if so, is there a more inept way to handle that question? A way that makes people think you're trying to give the answer that your advisors tell you best matches the polling data and you can't even get that right?

Here's the thing I can't help thinking about this. I remember when the Vietnam War was in its later stages. To criticize the handling and wisdom of that war was to open yourself to attacks that it was (a) treasonous to even suggest the war was not a necessary and noble cause and (b) tantamount to spitting in the faces of those who'd served and desecrating the graves of those who'd died.

It was an insult to those who'd fought because you were saying they'd fought and/or died in vain and it was an insult to your country because you were saying it made mistakes. Jeb started to go there with his "disservice" answer but obviously, someone told him he couldn't take that position for very long. The Iraq War is now officially indefensible.

So now we have Rand Paul, Ted Cruz, Chris Christie and a few other candidates seeking Republican votes and saying, "If we'd known then what we know now…" And we have Jeb Bush joining in.

George W. was nowhere to be seen at the last two Republican National Conventions. I have the feeling we're not going to see him at the next one, even in the unlikely event his brother is the nominee. In fact, that unlikely event got a whole less likely today.

Stephen Colbert discusses what his new late night show will be like. Not a lot to go on there.

A covey of G.O.P. presidential nomination seekers were asked to name the greatest living president. Bobby Jindal, Ted Cruz, and Donald Trump all named Ronald Reagan. Rick Perry refused to answer, Ben Carson said "I don't know" and Rick Santorum came the closest to actually answering the question when he said, "Probably a Bush."

Why did they have to dodge or go off the board and ignore the "living" part of the question? Because as Jonathan Chait points out, they couldn't name a Democrat…and no one with a different surname wants to be put in the position of defending a Bush.

Chait also notes that the Reagan they're hailing is not the same person by that name who was the 40th President of the United States. But we all knew that.

My pal Marc Wielage told me about this. It's a short home movie (with pretty good picture quality) of someone's trip to Las Vegas in 1962. So it's a good chance to see a lot of hotels and casinos that either are long gone or have been changed completely. We also get to see what I love to see in films and photos of past-tense Vegas: Marquees.

Brenda Lee and Dick Shawn were at the Flamingo…and before someone asks me, "Hey, wasn't Shawn filming It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World in 1962?": Yes. He started in May of that year and finished in December but he had weeks off during the filming. One marquee in the home movie says Alan King is opening on October 16 so Shawn was obviously playing Vegas during a time Mad World didn't need him.

Stan Irwin is presenting Ray Bolger and Judy Garland (separately!) at the Sahara. Irwin was a comedian who became a Vegas entertainment director. Animation fans are interested in him because he supplied the voice of Lou Costello when Hanna-Barbera made their Abbott and Costello cartoons with Abbott playing himself. Our pal Kliph Nesteroff interviewed Mr. Irwin a few years ago, not long before Mr. Irwin passed away.

Also on the marquees, you'll see the name of Hank Henry — a great old burlesque performer who spent his last days as a Vegas comedy superstar — Arthur Ellen. Mr. Ellen was a very prominent hypnotist who did stage shows and also became rather well known for helping athletes and actors with the quitting of alcohol, smoking, stage fright, etc. Frank Gorshin said he wouldn't have been able to perform if not for Ellen helping him "unlock" repressed voices within himself. There's a lot of history on old Las Vegas marquees.

This is the big Rolling Stone article on David Letterman and his imminent retirement from late night TV. It talks a lot about how Dave decided the time had come but it makes no mention of at least one thing that had to have been a key factor: The declining ratings and the fact that when Leno departed, the predictions that Dave might pick up a chunk of that audience — or that Fallon's initial popularity would soon fade — turned out to be wrong.

People keep asking me, "Did he get fired or did he quit?" The answer is he quit but that doesn't mean that there wasn't some subtle nudging — say, in a one-on-one phone call with Les Moonves to which there were no witnesses — that it was time. Or maybe Dave just looked at the numbers and knew that call would be coming soon.

No matter why he's departing now, it's the capper to an amazing body of great, innovative work.

Bill Carter, the journalist who most often covered late night the last few decades, writes about David Letterman. Carter makes the guy seem like a very brilliant but very unhappy human being. I'm not in a position to fully believe that last part and I wonder if he isn't conflating the early Letterman with the current guy, just as some of Leno's detractors seem to dismiss the possibility that 20+ years in a very hot seat can change a man. True, Letterman's on-air manner sometimes has made you believe that quote of his about only being happy that one hour of the day he's doing his show…but I'm still not sure it's as simple as all that. And didn't he say that before he had a son?

I think I disagree with Carter that Letterman "bombed" hosting the Oscars because "Letterman had been Letterman, not doing a show that sucked up to Hollywood." I think the problem was that Dave didn't really try to host the Oscars. He tried to do a prime-time version of his late night show and treated the awards as intrusions. I also don't think he did as badly as legend would have it. I further don't believe that the fact Leno had the Tonight Show label on his late night show meant that much to the ratings. It sure didn't help Conan O'Brien.

On the other mitt, I do agree with all the stuff about legacy and influence, and I like that Carter mentions how much of Dave's success was because of some terrific writers. Years ago on a newsgroup, I was attacked by one hysterical lady for suggesting that every single word that came out of Dave's mouth didn't come wholly from Dave's brain.

Frankly — and this may just be my profession showing — I think the show went into decline when Dave decided, as he seems to have done some time ago, that he didn't want to do the prepared material that some very fine, well-paid writers were creating for him each week, and just wanted to rely on what came out of the aforementioned brain. I've complained here that talk shows these days are too well-scripted and lack spontaneity. Yeah…but Letterman could have used a little help out there some nights.

I get a ridiculous number of press releases sent to my press release address from folks who want to see something of theirs plugged on this blog. This is the first one in a long time that caught my interest…

Hi Mark,

I wanted to get in touch with some news about world record-holding competitive eater, Takeru Kobayashi.

Terminix, the country's leading provider of termite and pest control services, put Kobayashi up to a unique challenge: eat tater tots for an entire day, while going about his daily routine.

You can watch this quick video to find out how he does:

THE RESULTS:

• Kobayashi consumed 259 tater tots in under four minutes, defeating the existing record of 250 tots in five minutes.
• He ate a total of 857 tots over three hours and 22 minutes, all while doing his daily activities.
• While his totals were impressive, termites came in as the winner as they never stop eating — they're on-the-job 24/7, eating through more than $13 million worth of property damage every day. That's $5 billion per year!

If you are interested in a story on this video or sharing it on your social channels, I'd be happy to share additional assets.

In 1958, journalist Bob Thomas authored one of the first books on how Disney artists did what they did. It was called The Art of Animation and I have a copy in my library. My copy, however, is lacking one thing that's in Floyd Norman's copy.