Daniel Gross explains why Rudy Giuliani's (and for that matter, George W. Bush's) health care proposal sucks. Actually, I will be very surprised if any health care plan proposed by a Republican in '08 won't suck. They'll all have to have one because the public will demand it of them. So the trick will be to come up with one like Giuliani's that either changes nothing or funnels more tax money into profits for private insurance firms and major pharmaceutical companies. Obviously, Iraq will be the big issue in the next election. But this one's shaping up as a close contender so a lot of what we're going to hear is candidates denouncing each others' proposals as unworkable and/or illusory.

Ultimately, what it may come down to is Republicans accusing Democrats of having no plan to fix Iraq, Democrats accusing Republicans of having no plan to fix health care…and both sides being right.

In the previous posting, I just fixed a minor factual error that was pointed out to me by Dan Kravetz. I mentioned buying the Sunday Herald-Express. Actually, if it was Sunday — and it was — the paper was called the Herald-Examiner.

Let me explain. Once upon a time, when newspapers were a real business, Los Angeles had more of them. We had the Times-Mirror company publishing a morning paper (The Los Angeles Times) and an afternoon paper (The Los Angeles Mirror), and then we had the Hearst Corporation publishing a morning paper (The Los Angeles Examiner) and an afternoon paper (The Los Angeles Herald-Express). These all came out Monday through Saturday.

On Sunday, each company published one Sunday paper that combined the regular features of its morning and afternoon papers. The Times-Mirror company put out the Sunday Los Angeles Times and it included some columnists and comic strips that were seen in the Mirror on weekdays. The Hearst folks called their Sunday paper The Los Angeles Herald-Examiner and it had features from both. In 1962, the two companies worked out some deal whereby each terminated one of its papers. The Times-Mirror people dropped the Mirror and some of its features went into the Los Angeles Times, which remained a morning paper. The Hearst folks dropped their morning paper and merged its contents into an afternoon paper called the Los Angeles Herald-Examiner. The Herald-Examiner continued until 1989.

For a time after the '62 changeover, the Herald-Examiner carried the comics pages of both newspapers in full and it was a glorious thing. Eventually though, they began tossing out strips and whittled it down to one page. The Times dropped a lot of strips immediately and just merged two funny pages into one. I don't recall the exact casualties list but I recall an awful lot of angry mail, including a letter I sent asking why we had to lose anything. A lot of people were happy that they had fewer newspapers to buy but they hadn't reckoned on losing their favorite comic strips.

Over on his weblog, writer-sportscaster Ken Levine is telling tales of his encounters with the late/great Jack Benny. A loyal reader (and good tipper) of this weblog has asked me to tell the story of my one encounter with Jack Benny. And he caused me to realize I've never told that story here. So here is the story of the one time I met Jack Benny for all of about twenty seconds.

It's 1961 or 1962, which means I'm nine or ten years old. It's a Sunday. My parents and I go over to a little park that is located not far from our home at the intersection where Santa Monica Boulevard crosses Wilshire Boulevard. There's a little fountain there which is, after dark, illuminated by lovely colored lights…but this is the afternoon and we're just sitting on benches there, getting out of the house for a while.

My father decides he'd like a copy of the Sunday Herald-Examiner, which can be procured from a newsstand on the southwest corner of that intersection. The park is on the northeast corner. I am handed the proper coinage and dispatched to fetch the paper, which I do happily because I'm bored silly at the park. I cross the streets, stopping dutifully at each corner to press the little button that causes the "walk" sign to appear.

I am on my way back with the newspaper and I am waiting for the light to change. It's a long light. Standing next to me is a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, high black knee socks and leather shoes. It is Jack Benny. I recognize him and it actually dawns on me that I am dressed more or less like an adult and he is dressed like a ten year old kid. Mr. Benny sees the odd look on my face and says, with a hint of a smile, "You don't know who I am, do you?"

I say, "You're waiting for Rochester to pick you up."

Mr. Benny gives me a look that everyone who has ever seen him on TV would recognize. It's a look that says, "I can't believe these things happen to me." But I can tell he's actually delighted that a kid my age knows who he is.

And then the light changes, the "walk" signal comes on, I head back to the park and that is the end of my only Jack Benny story. I wish I had another, longer one.

On Monday, George W. Bush said the following…

It's up to Iran to prove to the world that they're a stabilizing force as opposed to a destabilizing force. After all, this is a government that has proclaimed its desire to build a nuclear weapon.

He was instantly criticized from a number of sources which argued that Iran has proclaimed no such thing. This morning in his press conference, he phrased it this way…

They have expressed their desire to be able to enrich uranium which we believe is a step toward having a nuclear weapons program.

Okay, that second one seems closer to the truth. But isn't this the kind of thing the President of the United States ought to be a little more careful about getting right the first time? Or was the first statement a deliberate attempt to see if he could ratchet up the public paranoia a notch without being corrected?

Reader James Troutman found a simple way to download that Sondheim interview I mentioned. Over on this page, it can be snatched as an MP3 podcast. Go for it.

I keep getting messages asking me what I make of the whole Barry Bonds controversy. My primary opinion is that I don't care very much…but to the extent I care at all, I more or less agree with this article that Charles Krauthammer wrote back when Bonds was still some distance from Hank Aaron's record but likely to break it. I usually think Mr. Krauthammer knows not of what he writes…but he has to be correct about something once in a while. I think this may be it for the decade.

And today, we're going to look at the theatrical trailer for the movie of Damn Yankees. When the show debuted on Broadway, it was a modest hit. It didn't do the kind of business that everyone expected, given its reviews. Almost in desperation, the ad campaign was changed. The first posters had depicted the female star, Gwen Verdon, wearing a baseball uniform. They got rid of that and ran with a photo of Gwen in her sexy corset from the "Whatever Lola Wants" number. Business improved markedly and from then on, there was no trace of baseball to be seen in any of the advertising. It was a show about baseball and everyone knew it was about baseball…but it seemed to drive away ticket buyers if that was referenced in the ads.

The same philosophy seems to have been behind this trailer for the movie. There's very little in there about baseball but a lot about the sexiness of Ms. Verdon. There's also very little about Tab Hunter, especially when you consider that the property was acquired for him to star in, Almost everyone else was from the Broadway cast but he was put in the lead because he was a Movie Star…and then they gave Gwen Verdon the main attention in the trailer.

In his autobiography, Hunter said that he had a lot of trouble making the film because the director was George Abbott, who'd also directed the stage version. Mr. Abbott, according to Hunter, wanted him to do everything precisely the way the actor he replaced, Stephen Douglass, had done it on Broadway and scolded him when he couldn't. Another problem was that there was a musician's strike when the movie was being shot. All the musical numbers wound up being done with the actors lip-syncing to tracks from the New York cast album…which meant that Hunter had to mime to the voice of Stephen Douglass. Then the actors recorded the vocals after the film was shot, singing a cappella (no orchestra) because the musicians were still on strike. All the music was then recorded in England…an odd way to do it, and apparently agony for Hunter. But it worked.

Anyway, here's the trailer. It doesn't tell you what the movie's about but at least you know that it has the Broadway cast (well, almost) and that Gwen Verdon is real sexy in it. And you just might guess it has a little something to do with baseball.

Norman Lebrecht has an interview show on BBC3 radio where he chats with interesting people in the arts. His most recent show is a good 45 minute conversation with Stephen Sondheim.

Now, here's the hard part. The show aired last Monday and is supposed to be available on the BBC3 website for seven days thereafter…and it is, except that the website is malfunctioning and if you go to the link right now and click, the playback will start about five minutes into the programme. I figured out how to download the whole thing and listen to it from the beginning but it's kind of complicated…so your best bet is that maybe they'll fix the site before the seven days are up. Anyway, if you want to give it a try or hear it from that point on, go to this page and look for The Lebrecht Interview. If nothing else, you'll want to hear Sondheim debunk the much-rumored story that when he met Andrew Lloyd Webber at a party, Webber said to him, "There's not a note of your music that I wish I'd written." Sondheim says no such thing was said.

While you Sondheim fanciers are over in BBC vicinity, you might want to check out a two-part series from a few months ago called Sondheim's Women — an examination of the female characters in his works. This one's a little easier. You should be able to listen to Part One over on this page and Part Two over on this page.

UPDATE added the next morning: The Lebrecht Interview can be downloaded for the next few days from this page. Much simpler than what I went through.

Here's an obit for Mel Shavelson, who has passed away at the age of 90. It doesn't do justice to his filmography, which includes many a movie with Danny Kaye and Bob Hope, as well as the Make Room for Daddy TV show with Danny Thomas. I served with Mel on a committee at the Writers Guild once and found him to be a charming, witty man who worked hard for his union. As noted, he was president of the WGA three times and even when he wasn't, he was an important figure in the organization.

I'm a bit hestitant to post it because I only have it from one source with no further details…but it's a good source informing me that comedian-teacher Stanley Myron Handelman has passed away. You may remember Stanley as a shy stand-up of the late sixties and seventies. He always wore a cap and spoke in a gentle manner about the problems of his life. He later segued to a rather successful career as an acting coach and teacher, and was responsible for a great many other careers. If you see a published obit, let me know.

The Daily Show added a new correspondent tonight: Buck Henry. It was a nice surprise because Buck Henry always has been and is still a very funny, clever man. It was also a nice surprise because there are a lot of TV shows out there that…well, I wouldn't say they'd refuse to hire a 76 year old man, no matter how talented he was. But because of his age, he'd have two strikes against him before he got up to the plate.

At least, I hope tonight's appearance was the first of many by Mr. Henry. He did pretty well so we may be seeing a lot of him.

I haven't set foot in the place for twenty years but I bet it hasn't changed much. I'm talking about Acres of Books, which is located in Long Beach, California and which is usually acknowledged as the largest second-hand bookstore in the world. It's a huge place that almost seems to live up to its name. Back when I was buying old books, I often spent an entire afternoon in its aisles…which is what you kind of have to do if you even set foot in the place. You don't just pop in for a quick check of a few shelves. I've known people to plan visits like one plans a vacation, including lunch at a pre-selected nearby establishment.

I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I haven't been in any old book shop in quite a long time. I used to hit them all, hauling home dusty volumes by the crate. At some point though, I reached a point of diminishing returns. There weren't that many old books I knew of, wanted and didn't have. It came down to a little list I carried in my wallet. I'd go into stores, ask for those books and the staff would laugh at me. The books I was seeking were, I was told, impossible quests. After many fruitless bookstore visits — and with many such establishments going out of business — I found myself breaking the old bookstore habit. I just stopped going to them. Eventually, the Internet arrived and it gave us online bookstore searching and eBay…and one lovely afternoon, I found and ordered every book on my little list from the comfort of my computer chair.

That's how I broke my habit…which is not to say that I don't sometimes miss it. But once I no longer had that list in my wallet, my attitude towards places like Acres of Books changed. It became like the attitude so many Southern Californians take towards Disneyland: We don't go because we know it's there and we can go next month. Or the month after. Or maybe the month after that.

Now, every so often, one hears reports that Acres of Books is not long for the world; that this or that redevelopment project is going to cause its block to be refurbished into a row of Pinkberry Yogurt shops or something. It's happening again. According to this article, the city has a yearning to have something else on that land — some sort of condominium deal with art galleries on the ground floor or something. A battle is transpiring…and while a possible result is that Acres of Books will be moved, I have a feeling this squabble will end as the past ones have: With nothing changing down there.

Here's a link to the Acres of Books website where you can read a nice essay by the man who may be its most famous steady customer, Ray Bradbury. You can also get info on where it is and when it's open in case you'd like to go there and work the aisles…and you might not want to put it off the way I do. I refuse to believe it's ever going to close down or even relocate but I've been wrong about this kind of thing before.

You all know of my friend Frank Buxton…actor, writer, director, voice of Batfink, TV host, etc. To all his many vocations, we now add Theatre Critic. Last night, Frank attended an important evening in the theater and since I trust his tastes, and am curious about the show in question, I asked him to report back for us. Here's Frank…

Last night, August 7th, 2007 was the first performance before a full audience of Mel Brooks' new musical, Young Frankenstein, at the magnificent Paramount Theatre in Seattle, Washington and we were there. Seattle has become a "try-out" town where musicals such as Hairspray and plays like Angels in America have their pre-Broadway runs before heading to New York just as they used to do in New Haven and Boston. It was a treat to see this big, big show in our wonderful town, forgive the pun.

In a nutshell, it's going to be a big hit, as big, if not bigger, than Brooks' The Producers. Young Frankenstein is a three-hour romp, staged at a breakneck pace. There's hardly a pause in the action. Whether you loved the movie or never saw it (there are those people) you'll be more than satisfied and you'll have a great evening in the theatre.

It has a number of things going for it. It's almost a beat-for-beat reproduction of the Young Frankenstein movie complete with all the scenes and jokes we know and love from "what knockers" to "where wolves, there wolves" and the inevitable whinny after each mention of Frau Blucher. This is not a bad thing. It works. I would have to re-run the movie (not a bad idea) to be sure but it seemed to me that everything from the movie was included. There were a few extra moments and, of course, about twenty new musical numbers (music and lyrics by Brooks) some of which worked but some of which were a puzzle. The ones that didn't work will get cut or trimmed since the running time is about twenty minutes too long, especially in the first act which runs an hour and forty minutes and since they're in try-out mode anyway. Incidentally, we're going back to see the official opening on the August 23rd and it will be very interesting to see the "improvements."

The evening belongs to Susan Stroman, the choreographer and director. She has staged it wonderfully and made almost every musical number a rouser. The "eleven o'clock number" is "Putting on the Ritz," a number that will be remembered by theatre-goers as long as they live much like us oldsters remember "Fugue for Tinhorns," "There is Nothing Like a Dame" or "With a Little Bit of Luck" from the great musicals of the past. The "Ritz" number incorporates elements of the Fred Astaire version in Blue Skies (1946), including the line-up of dancers behind Astaire mimicking his every move. They also use the "Me and My Shadow" gimmick to great effect. Stroman builds this number beautifully from the moment when there are only two people on stage to the climax when the entire cast is involved. It's a great number, as are many others.

Stroman has also staged the comedy scenes with a strong sense of how to lay out the jokes and present the physical comedy. She is aided by a wonderful cast who sing and dance with great skill and are very adept at comedy. There isn't anybody in the cast who is wrong for the part and if casting is 90% of a production's success, they've struck gold.

Oddly enough, Christopher Fitzgerald emerges as the most appealing and funny character as Igor, he of the movable hump. Fitzgerald, as do all of the actors, reminds us of the originals (in this case, Marty Feldman) but has a stronger appeal than Feldman in creating a sympathetic character. He has an English accent and it's startling to hear a voice that sounds like Feldman's come from Igor but you soon get used to it. Fitzgerald is also a strong singer and dancer and a bundle of energy. He rules the stage.

In the Gene Wilder part, Roger Bart, holds back on the zaniness that Wilder had (especially in the moment when Frankenstein decides to follow in his grandfather's footsteps) but he handles the role competently. It's not an easy role, which calls for our liking and understanding him while laughing at his antics. Bart is fine, though, and ignore my quibbles.

I'm sorry to say that the beautiful Sutton Foster, who was wonderful in The Drowsy Chaperone, doesn't do much with Inga, the Teri Garr part. Actually, she doesn't have much to do except aid and abet young Frankenstein and Igor. When she does have something to do, as in the "Roll in the Hay" number she shows her chops, singing and dancing wonderfully.

Andrea Martin as Frau Blücher (horse whinny) really delivers, as we should expect from this wonderful actress. She belts out the musical number "He Vas My Boyfriend" and stops the show. (Of course, everyone belts out his or her numbers. That may not bode well for audience members who needs a breather.) Martin is a treasure and makes the most of every moment.

Shuler Hensley, who was the only good "Poor Jud" in Oklahoma I ever saw, assays the monster and, again the inevitable comparison to the late Peter Boyle, brings the creature to life. (Stop me before I pun again.) He can sing. The Monster can sing! And dance, too.

Now, to Megan Mullally who plays Elizabeth, she of the "don't touch me" persona. In fact she sings a song called "Please Don't Touch Me." Mullaly is a true musical comedy star with a voice that could shatter glass. She plays Elizabeth with the archness that we've come to expect from the TV series Will and Grace and is a perfect successor to Madeline Kahn in this role. However, if you'll recall from the movie, Elizabeth disappears for a good amount of time emerging towards the end to fall for the creature and help the love plot. Since they're dealing here with a major star (Mullally) they've had to insert Elizabeth to no great effect in a couple of "fantasy" sequences in the middle of the plot which don't quite work. She does them well, of course, but you wonder why they are there. It'll be interesting to see what becomes of these numbers and whether Mullally will be happy with the results.

Fred Applegate plays both Kemp, the Inspector, and the blind hermit. He is fine as both, especially in a lovely song the hermit sings about loneliness, "Please Send Me Someone" which is capped by the creature smashing through the wall of his hut. Why he plays both parts is a mystery except that he does have an excellent singing voice which Kemp never really reveals. But the make-up change is huge from Kemp-to-hermit and why they don't have another actor in the hermit part is a puzzle.

The chorus boys and girls are all exceptional and makes me wish I had studied harder in ballet school. (Just kidding.) And the other small parts are well done. No quibbles there.

A great deal of the success of Young Frankenstein has to be attributed to the phenomenal set and lighting design. Even though last night was the first preview there were only one or two small gaffes in the set changes and lighting with huge sets, props and backdrops flying in with ease. The set for Frankenstein's laboratory is a triumph. They even have an electrostatic generator and I think I saw a Tesla coil. Lightning flashes and thunder roars and strobe lights flash when they bring the creature to life. It is an evocation of that wonderful cinematic moment in the original Frankenstein as well as Brooks' Young Frankenstein. It's worth the price of admission for that set alone. They could ease off on the strobe lights, though, as many of us had to shield our eyes from time to time.

As far as the songs are concerned there are no memorable ones to take with you. Most of them serve the plot and are joke-filled so even if a current recording artist (are there any?) released a recording of one of the songs it would die a quick…and deserved…death. Brooks lacks the musical skill to write a strong melody and, as I said, the lyrics are plot pushers or joke fests. You leave the theatre humming the sets and the costumes rather than the songs.

The plot and jokes are standard Mel Brooks, which is not a bad thing. He tends to be vulgar, as you know, and if you can live with his kind of humor you'll laugh and not be offended. What next? Blazing Saddles? Twelve Chairs? High Anxiety? Probably not but I'm happy with Young Frankenstein. And you'll have a grand time, too.

I'm not sure why but I watched the debate yesterday…the Democratic candidates appearing before an AFL-CIO gathering, answering questions from the audience and host Keith Olbermann. Nothing of particular wisdom is ever said in these forums; not when the candidates are given sixty seconds to answer important questions. What could anyone say of substance in so brief a time? The debaters have almost stopped trying. Instead, they've learned to more or less not let the questions interfere with them saying over and over, "You should vote for me," as if the goal is to hypnotize the audience into doing so. I don't think anyone comes off that well talking about themselves like that.

Insofar as I could tell, no one harmed their candidacy and no one did themselves a lot of good. If I had to vote on who "won," I'd probably say it was in inverse order to their current standings in the polls. Joe Biden and Dennis Kucinich — who between them will be lucky to have three delegates at the convention — were the most impressive. Kucinich seems to now be operating with the attitude, "I have nothing to lose," so he can say anything he wants. Those who might have a chance of getting elected don't have that luxury…or at least don't think they do.

But frankly, no one impressed me a lot. Hillary Clinton continues to come off as smarter and more human than her detractors have painted her to be but she still doesn't strike me as having that all-important ability to connect with the audience and still seem like a leader. Then again, George W. Bush only had it by comparison to John Kerry or the 2000 model Al Gore.

The most interesting moment in the whole debate came not from a candidate but from a questioner in the audience — a disabled, retired steel worker named Steve Skvara who choked back tears to tell how he'd lost his pension and health insurance. I didn't think the reply by John Edwards was all that great but the question framed a large part of what this election is going to be about. I'd like to see everyone running for president given five or ten minutes to respond to it. And I'd like to see the ones who felt it was vital to keep Terri Schiavo breathing asked if they care even half as much about the health of Mr. Skvara's family. Here's the video…

There's a little controversy going on in some circles about a U.S. soldier named Scott Thomas Beauchamp. He wrote some articles for New Republic about brutality by our troops serving overseas and instantly, Conservative bloggers and pundits denounced his accounts as bogus. This article by Phillip Carter explains the squabble and then makes what I think is an important point about how the "truth" of what's happening. It's that with this war, more so than usual in our public discourse, people believe whatever they want to believe is true. And anything that goes against that obviously has to be a lie.

I've been enjoying a new website, Trailers From Hell, and thought I'd share one with you. On this site, they feature trailers from old exploitation films and some noted current filmmaker provides commentary. This one is X: The Man With X-Ray Eyes, and it's hosted for us by Mick Garris.

It's not a bad trailer for not a bad little suspense/horror movie…though I regret that the trailer-makers didn't include any of the really embarrassing scenes that Don Rickles has in the film. They do have a few shots of the great character actor, Harold J. Stone. Many years ago, in a tale I've related elsewhere, I had a hand in casting Mr. Stone to play Gabe Kaplan's father on Welcome Back, Kotter. One day during the rehearsal of a scene he wasn't in, I found myself sitting outside the rehearsal hall with him. The TV was on and this movie was on the TV and we watched his entire part — he gets killed off early — together. It was not one of Mr. Stone's prouder performances but his attitude was "work is work," even when it's work like this…