Walter Cronkite

1916-2009

There is a lot of attention being paid to the coincidence of Cronkite's death coinciding so closely to the 40th anniversary of the first moon landing. That seems appropriate to me, as he was a chief cheerleader of NASA's efforts, beginning with the first manned space flight in 1961. Who can forget his childlike wonderment when Neil Armstrong made those first footprints on the lunar surface? I recall those moments as they happened. (By the way, Armstrong's hugely quoted first words from the moon have been a cause of debate for four decades: did he say "One small step for Man..." or did he say, "One small step for a man..."? I'm here to tell you, he said "One small step for a man." I remember it so clearly because the next day, all the newspapers were misquoting it, and I wondered why. So take my word for it.) I seem to have wandered offtrack. Back to Cronkite:

Walter steadfastly maintained that sending men to the moon was the single greatest achievement of the 20th century, and he should know, as he lived through much of it. He was born during World War I, and began his news career during World War II, as a correspondent for United Press (later "UPI"). He covered the Nuremberg war trials and headed the Moscow bureau for several years before being recruited by Edward R. Murrow for CBS.

His career with CBS corresponded with the network's move from radio into television, and its growth into "the Tiffany Network of News." He made a splash anchoring the 1952 presidential conventions, the first to be reported on TV. Later in the decade, he spent time on The Morning Show, sharing the screen with a hand puppet named Charlemagne. Around this time, he got into some trouble with the show's sponsors, for whom he was required to do commercials. In one instance, he took a drag on a cigarette and proclaimed, "Winston tastes good as a cigarette should," instinctively correcting the grammar of the company's established slogan, "Winston tastes good like a cigarette should."

Cronkite was relieved of such duties when he was named to anchor the CBS Evening News in 1962. It was around this time that the term "anchorman" was invented, and Cronkite became so synonymous with it that his own name became the term in other languages (in Sweden, anchormen are called "Kronkiters"). Walter barely had time to warm his anchor seat before he was breaking into a live broadcast of As The World Turns to report the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Throughout the next several decades, he delivered good and bad news (mostly bad) to the nation from his anchor desk (the program expanded from 15 to 30 minutes early in his tenure, but he never achieved the full hour of nightly news he believed was required to adequately inform the nation). He was famously named "The Most Trusted Man in America," and some historians believe it was his pessimistic review of the Tet Offensive which marked the turning point of the Vietnam War. During a special report from Vietnam, he declared the country to be "mired in a stalemate", after which President Johnson decided against running for reelection. "If I've lost Cronkite," he famously said, "I've lost Middle America."

Though the Watergate break-in and political cover-up were first reported by The Washington Post, it was Cronkite's reporting which gave the scandal broad national attention. From the various assassinations of the sixties to the Iranian hostage crisis which ensured the Reagan victory of 1980, the nation turned to Cronkite for the news, plain and simple. On rare occasion, he provided a bit of entertainment as well, such as during his cameo appearance on The Mary Tyler Moore Show in 1974, but it seemed to be his coverage of the space program which brought him the most satisfaction. He won every journalistic award available, including Emmys for his coverage of the first moon landing in 1969, and of the ill-fated Apollo 13 mission of 1970 (take a look at Ron Howard's exciting film version of Apollo 13 to see archival footage of Cronkite's non-stop reporting of the disaster).

Uncle Walter was not-too-subtly nudged from the anchor chair at the age of 64, to make room for Dan Rather. Though retained by CBS as a consultant, he himself has said he was never consulted.

Walter Cronkite died yesterday at the age of 92.

"I had a pretty good seat at the parade."

Friday Dance Party: Chasing Cheyenne

Cheyenne Jackson is one of the younger performers to star in the weekly Dance Party, a spot usually filled by a veteran actor, or, you know, somebody dead. Jackson is very much alive, and on his way to the top. He's worked a bit in film and TV, notably playing rugby athlete Mark "Let's Roll" Bingham in United 93, the film concerning the plane which was retaken by the passengers on 9/11. He is better known in New York theatrical circles, and has graduated from understudy gigs (he stood-by for both male leads in Thoroughly Modern Millie) to starring roles. He created some buzz in the off-Broadway smash Altar Boyz, and, on Broadway, has headlined All Shook Up and Xanadu.

Now, about Xanadu. I didn't see it, though I probably would have, had I had the opportunity. The authors apparently took the ridiculous film flop of 1980 and, with their tongues planted firmly in their cheeks, translated the thing to the stage. It got some respectable reviews and had a run of about a year, but at a 5 million dollar pricetag, it closed in the red.

During its run, the producers did all they could to drum up business, including sending the cast to television whenever possible. Actors appeared on Larry King and other yakfests, and numbers from the show appeared on Regis, The View, and even the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. From what I've heard from those who actually saw the show, this song does not do it justice. (Incidentally, though the film did not make money, its soundtrack surely did, with five top 20 hits, variously performed by Olivia Newton-John and the Electric Light Orchestra, all of which were included in the musical's score. One more note about the movie, and it's a sad one: it contains Gene Kelly's final screen performance.)

But back to the subject at hand. Cheyenne Jackson deserves some credit for never hiding his sexuality, and becoming a success just the same. He is part of a younger generation of performers who have never pushed their personal lives into the closet in order to be more employable (Gavin Creel, with Jackson above, currently starring in the revival of Hair, is another).

The fact that Jackson is on my radar, I assure you, has absolutely NOTHING to do with how he looks in those cut-off shorts. Or the tank-top, either. The fact that he is wearing an outfit similar to the one Bruce Jenner notoriously wore in another camp movie musical, Can't Stop the Music, is ABSOLUTELY IMMATERIAL.

Please enjoy Cheyenne Jackson and the cast of Xanadu performing on the Tony awards (yes, that's Broadway vet Tony Roberts leaping into the action). Cheyenne had a birthday this week, which is why he is appearing in this week's Dance Party. It has nothing to do with those cutoffs:
 

Another Story

It looks pretty sure that the 25th of June will be remembered forever as the day Jacko died (and Farrah too). I wrote a bit about Farrah, but steadfastly refuse to add to the frenzy regarding Jackson, a frenzy which continues unabated today, over two weeks later.

Something else happened on June 25, 2009, but you never heard about it. Neither did I, until today. Please stop watching all this crap about The Gloved One, so the media can no longer use as their excuse for wall-to-wall coverage, "we are giving the public what they want."

There are a few short audio burps in this clip, but they should not distract from the message. Don't you think we should hear these stories too?

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Friday Dance Party: Karl Sings! Roz Sings! Nat Sings! Film flops.

In light of the recent death of Karl Malden, I thought a look at his sole musical performance might suit this week's Dance Party.


Gypsy holds a special place in the hearts of a lot of Musical Theatre Geeks, and it is often pointed out as the perfect example of the Book Musical (as opposed to the "Concept Musical" or the "Sung-Through Musical"), where all elements of music, story, character, and dance come together. I admire Gypsy greatly, but would not place it on a list of shows I must see over and over again. In fact, I have enjoyed three of the four productions of the show I have seen (I have purposefully avoided any amateur production of the piece over the years, as I just can't imagine a housewife from the suburbs doing the play justice). The TV version starring Bette Midler was enjoyable enough, but the best production of the show I have seen would have to be the first major revival, starring Angela Lansbury. I wrote about seeing the show here. I also saw the Tyne Daly revival back in the 90s, which I mentioned here.

But the first time I ever encountered Gypsy was when I was bored to tears by the film version. Rosalind Russell, Natalie Wood, and Karl Malden were all fine performers, but they did not mesh well in this musical. Russell's singing voice was augmented with Lisa Kirk's dubbing; in fact, the only portions of Mama Rose's songs which belong to Russell were the patter which sometimes interrupted the numbers. Wood did her own singing in this film, as opposed to her earlier appearance in West Side Story, in which all her songs were Marni Nixoned. As for Karl Malden, well, the role of Herbie was never meant to be a strong singer (the originator of the part, Jack Klugman, was so insecure about his singing that plans for a solo number for his character were dropped). Malden isn't too bad in the film, and neither is Roz Russell, if you can forgive the songs. I am a fan of Russell's, so I wish the movie had worked out better, but I also wish that Ethel Merman had been given the opportunity to recreate what everyone claims was her finest hour.

But then, I wish Carol Channing had filmed Hello, Dolly, Zero Mostel had filmed Fiddler on the Roof, and Julie Andrews had filmed My Fair Lady. These were all reported to be iconic performances which are now lost to us. Ah, well...

Here's a song from the film flop Gypsy, which was cut from the final release. Perhaps it was to trim the running time, but I have a hunch it was also because it's a pretty dreadful piece of staging. The number was cut early enough that dubber Lisa Kirk was not required to do her stuff, so Rosalind Russell is croaking her own vocals in this clip:

Karl Malden

1912-2009

Malden was well-respected as a solid character actor. Born to immigrant parents, he spoke Serbian until entering public school, where he became a basketball star and repeatedly broke his nose. Who could have guessed? He fought in World War II, and was an early member of The Group Theatre.

Malden is remembered for a wide variety of roles over a career spanning 7 decades. He spent five years in the 1970s co-starring in the TV detective drama The Streets of San Fransisco, which launched Michael Douglas's acting career, and for which Malden received four Emmy nominations. He returned to television many times, including a starring role in the TV film The Hijacking of the Achille Lauro (1989), the true story of a cruise ship hijacked by Palestinian terrorists in 1985. In the film, he played Leon Klinghoffer, a Jewish retiree who was murdered and dumped, with his wheelchair, into the Mediterranean. His final screen appearance was a well-regarded cameo in the first season of The West Wing, in which he played the president's priest.

His extensive film career included On the Waterfront, Baby Doll, How the West Was Won, Pollyanna, The Cincinnati Kid, The Birdman of Alcatraz, and Patton. On stage, his performance in the original cast of Arthur Miller's All My Sons led to the role which put him on the map, Mitch in A Streetcar Named Desire. He held his own opposite the iconic performance of Marlon Brando, and, along with Brando and Kim Hunter, he recreated that seminal performance for the film version. He won the Oscar.

In addition to his dramatic work, Malden was for many years the commanding voice of American Express Financial Services, warning, "Don't leave home without it," which became a national catchphrase. He appeared in only one musical, playing poor, put-upon Herbie, opposite Rosalind Russell's Mama Rose, in the film adaptation of Gypsy in 1962. Drop by this week's Friday Dance Party to see how that worked out...

Karl Malden died last week at the age of 97.

Mollie Sugden

1922-2009

If you are not a fan of British television, as viewed on PBS, you do not recognize this actress. Like most performers of her era, she was classically trained and spent years in repertory theatres. In her later life, she became known exclusively as a comic performer on various British sitcoms of the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Her regular appearances on British television had already established her as a star when, in the early 70s, she snagged the role which would bring her a bit of international fame.




As overbearing battle-ax Mrs. Slocumb on Are You Being Served?, she delivered some classic double entendres. Her most famous running gag can be seen in this compilation clip:

I was not a big fan of Are You Being Served?, though its popularity was such that it spawned its own sequel series, Grace and Favour (which was packaged as Are You Being Served Again? in the US), as well as a feature film. I find the humor very heavy-handed, and the sight gags quite over-the-top (another running gag of the series involved Mrs. Slocumb's ever-changing, ever more outrageous hair color).

It seems to me that those classic Brit-coms came in two flavors. Some were very slap-sticky, such as Are You Being Served? or Fawlty Towers, while others seemed to be more character-based, such as the various Penelope Keith series (To The Manor Born, Good Neighbors) and the Judy Dench classic, As Time Goes By.

But there clearly is (or was) an audience which loved the wild antics of Are You Being Served?, and Mollie Sugden deserves some credit for her contribution to the show's longevity. She died last week at the age of 86.

Harve Presnell

1933-2009

Presnell was singing opera in Europe when composer Meredith Wilson first heard his deep baritone voice. Wilson wrote the leading role of "Leadville" Johnny Brown in his Broadway hit The Unsinkable Molly Brown with Harve in mind. His costar in New York, Tammy Grimes, did not make the cut for the movie version, but Presnell did, recreating his performance opposite Debbie Reynolds. He was to return to Broadway only one more time, as the final Daddy Warbucks in the original run of Annie. He played that role extensively on the road, and returned to the character in both ill-fated sequels, Annie 2: Miss Hannigan's Revenge, and Annie Warbucks. The remainder of his stage career was spent in summer stock and regional theatres, where he played in any classic musical in need of a larger-than-life leading man with a booming voice, including Camelot, On a Clear Day, and Annie Get Your Gun. He received some nice notices from the New York Times for his dinner theatre stint in Man of La Mancha.

He is primarily remembered today for his later film and television performances, playing old coots and codgers. He played William H. Macy's father-in-law in Fargo, General George Marshall in Saving Private Ryan, and had a recurring stint on Dawson's Creek, playing another sour old man. But I can't get used to that more recent persona, and prefer to remember him as the 6-foot-4 powerhouse baritone. He would have been a huge star had he been born a decade or two earlier, when musical stars of the stage became nationally known.

In addition to the afore-mentioned Annie sequels, Presnell was involved with a couple of other real stinkers. He appeared in the dismal film adaptation of the Lerner and Loewe musical, Paint Your Wagon, singing the famous song from the piece, "They Call the Wind Mariah." But the film was headlined by Lee Marvin and Clint Eastwood; anybody who places those two guys in the leading roles of a musical deserves what they get. And they got a real bomb (Harve comes off fairly well in this turkey, as he had legitimate musical cred). But his expertise didn't help much with the disastrous attempt to turn Gone With the Wind into a stage musical in 1972. He played Rhett in the London production of this hopeless endeavor, which had a book written by Horton Foote, of all people. On opening night, Presnell was famously upstaged by Charley the horse (yes, they had an actual horse onstage), who took a steaming dump while Atlanta burned, and set the critical tone for the show.

Harve Presnell won a Golden Globe Award for Promising Newcomer in 1965, sharing the honor with George Segal and Topol. He died last week at the age of 75.