The hottest ticket in London these days is for an elaborate stage musical based on the movie, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, all about a flying automobile.  Here's a link to an article all about it.  As the piece says, it's expected that the show will make it to New York soon but it doesn't mention what I was told (by its composer, Richard Sherman) is the main thing preventing that.  For some time now, there's been an unusual paucity of available Broadway houses.  It's difficult to find a theater and in the case of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, doubly-difficult.  The show's special effects present all manner of physical requirements and can't be adapted for just any old stage.  The few venues that have become available lately, or look like the soon may be, simply can't accommodate the production.  Once one does, they'll hurriedly snatch it up and fly that car to Broadway.

Hre's a link to a good article about the always-brilliant Harry Shearer.  Read it quick because this magazine doesn't keep their pieces on line for very long.

Remember the story about the lady who sued McDonald's and was awarded three million bucks because their coffee was too hot?  It became a joke, and an example for folks to trot out when they wished to argue against ridiculous lawsuits.  I even used it both contexts…so I was interested to read this article about the facts of the case.  Seems it wasn't as ridiculous as I thought, and the final monetary award (a lot less than three million) sounds almost appropriate.  Read up and see if you don't agree.

The TV movie about Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis struck me as well-made but somewhat disconnected from the real Dean and Jerry.  Jeremy Northam and Sean Hayes probably played the duo as well as anyone could…but the "twinkle" of the real stars was absent for me.  The two actors didn't seem especially funny doing old Martin-Lewis material and the extras who were laughing at it didn't seem genuinely amused, either.  (That was actually one of the things that harmed the whole picture for me.  The audience laughter really seemed phony and just served to remind us that these guys didn't have the real stars' comedic skills.)

It's interesting that Jerry Lewis has reportedly praised the script.  It was a good script but its chronology of their careers was based largely on Arthur Marx's 1974 biography, Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime — a book Lewis loudly condemned back then as hateful and inaccurate.  Perhaps because the filmmakers were worried about the surviving team member interfering, the movie made Jerry a bit less monomaniacal than the book, but played up the notion that Dean was an emotional shell, incapable of truly loving the women in his life.  Or maybe those adjustments were done because they seemed to complement the conceit that the story of Martin and Lewis was, at heart, the tale of two men who really loved each other.  I'm not sure that notion wasn't a fiction whipped up by their fans and perhaps Jerry.  On the other hand, even if it was, it's a nice, tidy TV-movie way to summarize a relationship.

One of the interesting aspects of their break-up that was omitted was the amazing gamble Dean Martin was taking.  At the time, Martin was in deep trouble with the Internal Revenue owing to bad business management.  The sane thing for him to have done was to stick with the act for another year or two, get flush with the government and get some bucks in the bank and then strike out on his own.  Leaving Jerry was a move that darn near everyone in show business thought was career suicide and to do it when he was in financial jeopardy was really a risk.  But Dino had had enough of doing what had become supporting roles in Jerry Lewis movies, and feared that if he didn't soon prove he could do more than that, he would turn irrevocably into Bud Abbott.  And of course, he surprised everyone, becoming — in some ways — a bigger star than Jerry.

Frankly, I find the story of Martin and Lewis most interesting just where the TV-movie ended: With the split-up.  If the film last night gets good-enough ratings, it wouldn't surprise me if it spawns a sequel.  There's certainly another movie there.

Airwave Comics is about to bring out a special comic book adapting one of our all-time faves — the TV special, Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol.  It'll be available on its own or packaged with a DVD, and the press releases tell us that it will contain a bunch of special features, including a history of the nearsighted Quincy Magoo and a recipe to make your own Razzleberry Dressing, just like they serve in the Cratchit household.  Copies ordered in advance will also sport a lovely painted cover rendered by my buddy Bill Morrison, who is otherwise among the head honchos of Bongo Comics, purveyors of fine Simpsons comics, and who (as you can see) draws real good.  God bless us everyone.

Just to remind you: Sergio Aragonés and I are the exceptions in an otherwise stellar guest list for the Mid-Ohio Con next weekend (November 30 thru December 1) in Columbus, Ohio.  I'll be hosting two spotlights on Saturday, and paneling with Sergio on Sunday.  Here's a link to the website that can tell you how to be there.  So be there.

Still deadlining it.  I have the TiVo set to record the Martin and Lewis TV-movie tonight and hope to have something semi-intelligent to say about it here shortly.

The man above is Harold J. Stone, who was one of the workingest actors in Hollywood history.  Here's the link to his listing in the Internet Movie Database that proves it.  Is that an impressive list of credits or what?  And now, Mr. Stone is featured — along with George Kennedy, Scott Brady, "Bubbles" and Jack Kirby — in an old column of mine I just posted here.  Join me for a batch of casting stories.

Hey, did you like that flash movie about the soy sauce super-hero we linked to a few days ago?  Well, here's a link to a whole bunch more of them.  (Sadly, I'm told these are not commercials for Kikkoman.  It's a series whipped up by a group of animators who were trying to be weird…which somewhat diminishes the charm.)

If I sound rushed here lately, I am.  We're in another one of those "Mark Vs. The Deadline" dust-ups.  Things will be more normal here after one of us wins.

As you probably know, there were 17 exquisite, magnificently designed Superman cartoons produced between 1941 and 1943.  The first half-dozen were produced by the Max Fleischer Studio, which released its wares through Paramount.  Then the lovely people at Paramount foreclosed on Fleischer, took over his operation and renamed it Famous Studios.  The quality remained generally high but the series soon expired.

Because they somehow lapsed into public domain, these shorts are widely available, often on cheapo videotapes of bad quality, but there are some good copies around on tape, Laserdisc and DVD.  And if you don't mind viewing them in a teensy frame, you can watch them on your computer screen (and even download them to view at your leisure) by going to this site.  And if you like Superman, browse around that website.  It's full of nifty Superman info.

I'm told there are still a few tickets left (but only a few) for the screening of a brand-new 35mm print of It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World on Wednesday, December 4 at the American Cinematheque in Hollywood.  Even better is that the film will be followed by a panel discussion featuring many of the movie's surviving stars including — schedules permitting — Sid Caesar, Edie Adams, Jonathan Winters, Mickey Rooney, Marvin Kaplan and Stan Freberg.  If you can't make it, check out this page early the following morn for a full report.  Info on the event is available over at this site, and I'd like to thank Daniel Frank, who alerted me to the event.  Daniel has a fine, funny weblog at this address, and it's always worth a visit — after, of course, you visit here.

All over Los Angeles, one can see billboards for The Wayne Brady Show.  I keep asking friends if they've seen it and I keep getting the same answer: Wayne Brady has a show?  Yes, a new morning or afternoon talk show which I've tried watching this week.  And you know what?  It's pretty good.  Mr. Brady is genuine and engaging and he's either a terrific actor or he's really interested in his guests…maybe both.  He's working with some sort of brace on due to a leg injury and this morn, he told a long, funny story about trying to hobble about and tend to the needs of a pregnant wife at the same time.  The mood is distinctly daytime, the emphasis is on relationships, and the humor is gentle.  Whoever had the idea to put this guy in that slot was a very wise person.

Johnny Hart still claims (as debunked in this column) that he is the most widely-syndicated cartoonist in the world.  And Jim Davis's one strip is still in more newspapers than Hart's two put together.  Jim's strip — the one about the lazy and gluttonous cat — is also the subject of a fancy new hardcover book celebrating its 25th year of life.  In Dog Years I'd Be Dead will tell you loads of things about Garfield — how it's done, the impact it has had, how it's evolved, etc., all nicely illustrated with rare art and pictures.  You can order a copy of this handsome volume from Amazon by clicking here.  [Caution: Book contains photos of me.  Approach with caution.]

As predicted here some time ago, Bill Maher is signing on to do a new talk show — a late-nighter for HBO, set to debut early next year.  While it's ridiculous to make a prediction about a show that probably doesn't even have office space yet, I have to say that I think Mr. Maher has all the necessary skills, including the show biz savvy, to do a hell of a good program.  On Politically Incorrect, he demonstrated a fine ability to kick-start boring chatter and make it more interesting, and a much greater willingness to work without a net than any host we've seen since the early days of Carson and Allen.  Freed from the P.I. format that forced him to tackle current events — whether his guests had anything of interest to say about them or not — and network lawyers and sponsors, he might really score big.  Then again, he might do a safe, studiously-planned show, and bomb.  Either way, I'll be setting the TiVo for a Season Pass.

Over at Newsarama, Matt Brady has an excellent overview of Stan Lee's lawsuit against Marvel and what it may lead to.  Here's that link.

The staff of the comic book Groo the Wanderer extends its congratulations to (and a certain amazement at the endurance of) Becky Grossmann of Olympia, Washington.  As of today, she has been married for 26 years to Gary Grossmann, the world-class undisputed champ of Groo collecting.  The man spends every cent they make on memorabilia of our silly barbarian, and has their home crammed full of the stuff.  If the marriage has survived this, it will survive anything.

I just fixed the Search function on this site.  It was broken.  It didn't work.  Now, it does.  I fixed it.  Because it was broken.  But it isn't now.

On many of his later films, W.C. Fields took to arriving on the set with a thermos bottle filled with straight gin. After every scene, he would dart for the thermos and refresh himself.

The producers, fretting over their schedule, begged him to refrain from alcohol. They even promised that when the film was done, they'd take him on an all-you-can-drink spree at the tavern of his choice.

Fields denied that the thermos contained gin. "It merely contains pineapple juice," he told them. "It soothes a slight stomach discomfort I've been experiencing." This fib, of course, fooled no one.

One day when Fields wasn't looking, a prop man grabbed the thermos, poured out its contents and refilled it with real pineapple juice. A few minutes later, when the comedian came over and took a swig, he was horrified. He spit the offending liquid out and screamed…

"Some bastard put pineapple juice in my pineapple juice!"

That's Carl Reiner and he's my pick for the second-best practitioner I've ever seen in the art of the audience warm-up.  That's when they're taping or filming a TV show and someone comes out beforehand and tries to get the crowd into the proper mood to laugh and applaud.  Who was the best?  And while we're at it, who was the worst?  Well, to find all that out, you really need to check out a column I just posted here.  Click to read all about Audience Warm-Ups.

Amazon.com is now taking orders for the Segway Scooter, a single-user personal vehicle that can carry you around your neighborhood.  I don't expect any of you to shell out the five grand for one — though if you do, go through our links to get to Amazon.  But I did want to mention one nugget of trivia.  The Segway was invented by a gent named Dean Kamen.  Dean's father Jack is now retired from his career as a comic book artist, spent — most notably — drawing for EC Comics.  Surely in one of the EC science-fiction books, there's a picture of someone riding around on a single-user personal vehicle…

Fynsworth Alley is a company that releases Broadway-type albums.  They do both newly-recorded works along with CDs of great old records, and they're about to reissue what may be the worst record album ever made.  In 1979, for God knows what reason, one of Broadway's greatest stars recorded The Ethel Merman Disco Album, and it's really amazing.  It doesn't work as a Broadway album, it doesn't work as a comedy album…hell, it doesn't even work as a disco album!  The folks at Fynsworth Alley (pronounced Fins-worth) are not yet taking advance orders for its CD incarnation but never mind that.

You don't want to buy this.  Trust me.  What you might want to do is go to the Fynsworth Alley website and listen to a few of the short online samples they have available in RealAudio.  And if these don't convince you that you don't want it, this website has two entire songs available, also in RealAudio.  "I Got Rhythm" done disco?  "There's No Business Like Show Business?"  Good heavens.

Ethel Merman was a great talent with a corresponding ego.  You have to wonder just what she thought she was doing when she said yes to this.  Did she think a new generation would spark to her sound?  Disco was already a joke in '79 so the logical assumption is that she thought it was a spoof…but she went out and did the talk show circuit in dead-earnest, singing live (she refused to lip-sync) and doing little disco dance steps even though she was nearing 80.  I'm guessing the record company thought the curiosity factor would move sufficient product…but what was on her mind?  Maybe — and I'm only being half-serious when I suggest this — it was an early symptom of the brain cancer that killed her just a few years later.

I've often thought there should be a service to which celebrities can subscribe when they're young, still in possession of their faculties and concerned about maintaining an image.  The service would monitor their public performances and, at the appropriate moment, go to them and say, "Time to stop dancing" or "Time to lose the jet black toupee" or — eventually — "Time to stop performing."  For male comedians, there would be a special alert for the age when sex jokes become unbecoming.  (It's around the point when you begin using your genitalia strictly for waste elimination.)  Groucho needed such a service.  So did Uncle Miltie.  And wouldn't it have been nice if Sinatra hadn't made those last few albums?  Some loving soul should have stopped Ethel.

Anyway, we recommend taking a quick, free listen to Ms. Merman's oddest work.  But for the love of God, don't buy it.  Buy this, instead…

I want to thank all of you who've donated cash to this site as per the little tipping box below.  I try to write a personal "thank you" for each donation but I got way behind, and some of the ones I did send bounced back as "undeliverable."  Anyway, the gratuities are appreciated.  Rest assured it's all going to buy really stupid crap on eBay.