Friday Dance Party: Van Won't Dance

Allow me to suspend the Holiday theme for the weekly dance party in order to showcase this clip from "Till the Clouds Roll By," starring Van Johnson, who died this week. A brief overview of his life appears in the blog entry preceding this one.

Next week, a return to the Holiday Dance Party, unless another hoofer "hits the road."

Robert Prosky

1930-2008

DC audiences are mourning the loss of an actor who spent the majority of his artistic life in our midst. He was probably best known for his stint on Hill Street Blues, where he had the unenviable task of replacing the beloved Michael Conrad in the squad room. Conrad, who died of cancer after the show's early seasons, had a catchphrase which became famous, "Let's be careful out there." Prosky's sargeant had his own way of sending his men out into the field: "Let's do it to them before they do it to us!"

Prosky was a multiple Tony nominee (Glengarry Glen Ross, Walk in the Woods) and a long-time presence on big and small screens. He joined Arena Stage in its early decades and remained in the DC area for the rest of his life, making his home and raising his sons on Capitol Hill. Even after Arena disbanded their resident company, Prosky continued to appear on local stages, including a recent stint at Theatre J in Arthur Miller's The Price, a touring production in which he appeared with his two sons. An earlier appearance in a new play at Arena was panned by the Post's theatre critic, and in a very uncharacteristic move, Prosky wrote a now famous letter to the editor eviscerating the critic (the man in question, Peter Marks, reminds us of the incident here). I remember applauding Prosky when I read that letter, which in a way, was an attempt to defend actors everywhere from the opinions of critics who claim objectivity but rarely display any.

I saw Prosky onstage several times here in the city, but more frequently on the streets of Capitol Hill, walking toward Eastern Market. My strongest memory of him took place on the small screen. It was a quiet scene from Hill Street Blues, a holiday episode, though I can't remember if it was Thanksgiving or Christmas. After a day filled with mayhem (each episode covered a single day in the precinct of an inner-city, crime-filled district), the audience watched various characters at home enjoying their holiday meal. Prosky's gruff Sgt. Jablonski was seen alone in a tiny apartment, boiling some bratwurst, which he sat down to eat after sharing a bit with his dog. It was a sad, poignant moment which spoke volumes about the character and his history, brought to tender life by an exceptionally gifted actor.

Beverly Garland

1926-2008

In a career which spanned half a century, Garland achieved cult status as the star of many low budget noir and horror films, including It Conquered the World and The Alligator People. Her long television career included an Emmy nomination in the 50s (Medic, in which she played a leukemia patient) and what many consider a history-making role, that of Decoy, the first dramatic series with a woman in the title role. In the show, Garland portrayed the first female police officer ever to be seen on television.

She is largely remembered today as a comedic presence on the small screen, including the final three years of My Three Sons, in which she played Fred MacMurray's second wife. Earlier, she worked on Bing Crosby's 60s sitcom, playing his wife as well.

Later in her career, she maintained a presence on television, playing the mothers of Stephanie Zimbalist (Remington Steele), Kate Jackson (Scarecrow and Mrs. King) and Teri Hatcher (Lois and Clark). Her third husband, a real estate developer, built a resort hotel in her honor; the Beverly Garland Holiday Inn in North Hollywood, CA, is still operated by Garland's family.

Friday Holiday Dance Party

In keeping with the holiday theme announced last week, please enjoy the clip below. After watching it, you may wonder what the hell it has to do with the holidays. It actually has nothing to do with the holidays, but as it appears in the film White Christmas, I feel justified in presenting it.

I really don't know why I enjoy that movie so much; it's hugely bloated with production numbers which have absolutely nothing to do with the slender plot of the film. I am not a big fan of Bing Crosby or Danny Kaye, and the piece is a good half hour too long. But Rosemary Clooney is beautifully cast, and one of my favorite character actresses of the period, Mary Wickes, contributes another scene-stealing performance. But best of all, the movie's music is from the Irving Berlin songbook, which makes the many extraneous musical numbers enjoyable.

It's also fun, when watching the big production numbers, to pick out young George Chakiris in the dancing chorus. This film was shot only a few years before he rocketed to stardom (and the Oscar) in West Side Story, and only a few years more before his star waned. I understand he's now a jewelry maker. Ah, the dancer's life. The chosen clip below does not feature our future / former star, however, but a young hoofer named John Brascia.

At any rate, this short clip is indicative of most of the numbers in White Christmas: it has nothing to do with the plot, or with Christmas. But it is another opportunity to show off dancer Vera-Ellen's disconcertingly long, slender legs, and another opportunity to see some first-class tap-dancing.

White Christmas - Freaky Legs

Paul Benedict

1938-2008

Certainly best known as the British neighbor on the long-running sitcom The Jeffersons, Benedict played a variety of comic characters on stage and screen. He spent time on Sesame Street as the Mad Painter who painted numbers everywhere, and he's fondly remembered as the loony stage director in The Goodbye Girl, insisting that Richard Dreyfus play Richard III fey. His deadpan reactions in the final moments of Waiting for Guffman are priceless.

He had a substantial theatrical career, beginning his onstage work in Boston in a troupe which included DeNiro, Hoffman, and Pacino. He re-teamed with Pacino on Broadway in the two-character O'Neill play Hughie in 1996. He was respected as a director as well, and he helmed two off-broadway productions which became sleeper hits. In 1989, he guided Kathy Najimy and Mo Gaffney in The Kathy and Mo Show: Parallel Lives.

Two years earlier, he directed the original production of the two-hander Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune, bringing the exceptional Kathy Bates to the world's attention.

Here's a shot of the cast and crew of that landmark production:

Benedict's elongated facial structure was a clue that he suffered from acromegaly, a pituitary disorder that was first diagnosed by an endocrinologist who saw Benedict in a theatrical production. He died this week at the age of 70.

s'Newz

...an occasional series mentioning current events which lately held my interest...

Here in DC, the government is bumbling along in its usual fashion. Everyone is excited about the next session of Congress, which, to numerologists' delight, is the 111th. To commemorate the occasion, the House Administration Committee issued a snazzy orientation book for the new members, and to add gravitas to the proceedings, announced the new session with bold, Roman Numerals:

In keeping with a long tradition of congressional incompetence, everybody involved failed to realize that the Roman Numerals for 111 are CXI. The above illustration, printed on hundreds of orientation booklets, announces the third congress.

Local DC politicos are diving into the growing chaos regarding the Obama Inauguration, which is turning out to be the Event of the Millennium, even as the Millennium is barely 9 years old. Nobody can get a hotel room, and those who booked reservations months ago are being informed that the price quoted back then is no longer valid. Instead, visitors are expected to pay five or ten times the going rate. And to make the week in January even more festive, the DC Council has just passed Emergency Legislation allowing bars and restaurants to remain open 24 hours from 1/17-1/20/09. Alcohol can be served an additional three hours each day (until 5 AM), to let revelers get really snockered.

Oh, and the DC Metro System, which runs the subway, has thrown up its hands regarding handling the several million visitors expected on the Big Day. They have already added all the cars and employees they have at their disposal. Their advice to those making their way to the Mall to watch the Inauguration?

Walk.

One more Inaugural item: the city will be jam packed with high-profile parties, but none will be higher profile than Oprah's Bash, though she still has not announced where it will be. She has, however, rented the Opera House at the Kennedy Center, which seats 2350 people, for one day. She will film at least one, and possibly more, programs from the site.

A couple of tidbits lately proved, yet again, that there is currently nobody at the wheel at the White House. Laura Bush put the call out to all the nation's congressional districts to contribute a Christmas ornament to be hung on the Official White House Christmas Tree. The submission from a certain district in Seattle was a bit subversive. The ornament was decorated with red, white, and blue swirls, in the midst of which was embedded text which saluted Rep. Jim McDermott's attempts to impeach George W. Bush. Nobody at the White House took notice, and the ornament would have been hung on the tree if the artist hadn't spilled the beans to a local newspaper. The ball was rejected, and Mrs. Bush's press secretary Sally McDonough sniffed that this was not the time or place for such sentiments.



That press secretary had a busy week. She also had to explain this little faux-pas: the Bushes invited a group of Jewish leaders to a Hanukkah reception next month. The invitation was a picture of a snow-covered White House, with a Clydesdale hauling a giant Christmas tree up to the front door:

Happy Hanukkah, Hebrews!

Here's how we Christians do it!

One non-DC item caught my eye this week. Remember back in the 80s, when dictator Manuel Noriega dodged American troops by seeking sanctuary at the Vatican Embassy in Panama? The military commanders surrounded the compound with huge stereo speakers, and blasted the embassy with rock music. The papal nuncio who was affording Noriega refuge bitterly condemned the Americans for the psychological torture.

I was reminded of that episode when I heard about the judge in Fort Lupton, Colorado, who sentenced teen-agers cited for disturbing the peace in a similar way. Rather than using rock music, the judge ordered offenders to listen to an hour of Barry Manilow.