Who
And Where Was Antonio Stradivarius?
The Dick Van Dyke
Show
An extraordinary
masterpiece by Carl Reiner on the occupational hazards of the comedy writer
with a gag fiddle late one afternoon, facing a deadline.
A swinger in Red Hook,
then, amnesiac, suspected of whatnot by Laura.
The
Lady And The Tiger And The Lawyer
The Dick Van Dyke
Show
An attractive
singleton who hits it off with Laura’s intellectual cousin (“I mount
my own rocks,” Bergman’s dream in Wild Strawberries is “much too obvious,” they agree), and
hits it off with Sally, too (he knows all the jokes frontwards
and backwards), trouble is, if he likes it he hits it.
Rob ventures a
joke, “he’s got his own ambulance!”
The
Life And Love Of Joe Coogan
The Dick Van Dyke
Show
The Original of Laura, by the director of Oh, God!,
out of Leo McCarey’s Going My Way.
The sergeant, the
poet-priest and the U.S.O. dancer, cf.
Hitchcock’s I Confess.
Mine eyes will ne’er behold which
my heart doth see so clearly. Inward stirs this passion, deep, benighting, Leading my path away from all, and
to my Love. I reach out for Thee, and pray Your
hand be there to welcome mine, Your light to illume where my light
be spent, for my soul must soar. |
“The most pleasant eighteen holes of golf I ever
played,” says Rob.
I’d
Rather Be Bald Than Have No Head At All
The Dick Van Dyke
Show
Persky and Denoff on a famous I
Love Lucy carried to even more surrealistic heights with mayonnaise and
“a head of lettuce”.
The
Ghost Of A. Chantz
The Dick Van Dyke
Show
Alan
Brady’s idea of a joke, he has writers for that.
Coast
To Coast Big Mouth
The Dick Van Dyke
Show
Blowing the lid
off Alan Brady’s brow.
Laura and a
clever game show host accomplish this, Rob guards the Brady nose job, as far as
possible.
The
“established genius” accepts all this with a good grace, from a
professional standpoint.
Don’t Raise The
Bridge, Lower The River
The comedy of
poesy vs. its antithesis, in a manner of speaking, the electronic oil drill.
John Henry if you
want, l’amour c’est la mort, it’s a marriage comedy.
The husband has business at the top of the world and at the equator, the wife
wants to live in London, from which there follows a string of absolutely
Surrealist gags in a refinement common knowledge to Londoners, of whom Jerry
Lewis is one in bowler and dark suit, an American expatriate.
The wife departs,
he consults his old pal gap-toothed Willie (Terry-Thomas), who stiffed him for
a trainload of chutney once, with a rubber cheque.
Between them they
devise a plan to cover the husband’s losses on converting his
wife’s home into the Hong Kong Gardens and Discotheque, this means
selling her new beau’s drill to the Arabs on the QT.
The Portuguese
Bella is a runabout and a Lisbon dental assistant. One has the Girl Guides and
their leader to contend with, the Future Mothers of Great Britain.
Paris does what
he can, which is plenty.
Evil Roy Slade
The meanest,
cretinousest outlaw of them all, whose very name stands for Sneakin’,
Lyin’, Arrogance, Dirtiness and Evilness. “Never trust a pretty
girl or a lonely midget.”
His nemesis is
Stool of the Western Express. “Never trust a dumb nephew or a slobbery
bulldog.”
Lonelier in his
childhood than Antoine Doinel, buddy to the buzzards, briefly rehabilitated as
a Boston shoe salesman.
He rescues his
mistress from a sham wedding to “Mr. Bingham (Bing) Bell, the Singing
Marshal of San Francisco”.
“Talent
will out.”
A Cowboy in Paradise
McCloud
The script
pays homage to Hammett, “you’re a very resourceful man,” says
Edgar Hamilton (Richard Denning) to McCloud, after the Marshal has fought his
way through a passel of thugs to speak to Mrs. Hamilton, who was engaged to
Chief Clifford twenty-eight years previously.
Hamilton runs a
sugar plantation, “owns the docks”, keeps his wife under wraps, and
is running for Senator. In one of several homages to Hawaii Five-O,
McCloud commandeers an outrigger canoe to reach the Hamilton yacht (later, on a
familiar stretch of beach, he confronts a Chief of Detectives at the end of his
rope).
“Before you
know it, they own you,” says a crooked cop.
Al Moana,
“Mr. Hawai’i”, is a very popular entertainer with interesting
connections up and down the social scale.
It’s
revealed that Chief Clifford was a naval rating during World War II, and spent
90 days in the brig unjustly.
Louise
Lasser’s beautiful performance underplays her jokes and overplays her
plainness. Don Ho gives a generous sampling of his lounge act (or something
similar). James Gregory heads a batch of conventioneers, Martha Hyer is the
two-faced Mrs. Hamilton, and Nephi Hannemann is a finely irascible Honolulu
detective.
Paris’
direction is fast, frisky, faultless, and complements the sparkle of the
script. There is a notable double coda of high angles on Waikiki.