TV Radio Mirror (Jan - Jun 1963)

IJVSIDi; STOKY (Continued from page 8) the wisdom of hiring big-time names on a regular weekly basis. "We'd be better oft having them do a couple of specs a year," one said. "That way, they retain their drawing power. They certainly won't have it, being seen every week." The popular Western star, who threatened to quit TV "as soon as the contract's up — I can't stand it anymore," was just signed for another show on a weekly basis. "Money talks," sighed a friend. "They all hate it till the money's dangled in front of them. Then it's not so bad anymore." . . . It'll be a sad day on TV if one of NBC's most famous spokesmen retires, as he's thinking these days. Claims he's "tired," and he doesn't need the money as idle threat — the way some others do. A funny thing happened to ABC personnel on their way to the campus of George Washington University in Washington, D. C, where they were getting ready to tape their first show in the "Hootenanny" series: They bumped into Perle Mesta, the crown princess of politic parties (not to be confused with party politics). "What brings you to the campus?" asked the dumbfounded TV men. Was she in charge of the Homecoming celebration — or else the Junior Prom? "I want to look over the talent at the taping," said Perle. "You see, I'm a writer now, too. I'll sign up some of the talent, have them perform at one of my parties, and then write about them. Simple!" "Hootenanny" is kind of a folk singers' jam session. The verdict is still out on how some of the conservative New England Congressman react to the sight of folk singers at Perle's next big Washington shindig. Sammy Spear, who handles the music on "The Jackie Gleason Show," was talking about the first reaction from viewers (and even friends!) to Frank Fontaine's beautiful warbling on the show. "No one believed it," said Sammy. "The sight of Crazy Guggenham (the character Frank plays on the show) singing these teary songs in a beautiful baritone was too much for anyone to believe. Everyone t asked me, 'C'mon now, Sammy, level with me. Who did the song? We know Frank just lip-synced it." — That's Earl 76 in his chosen career of acting, in fact in the very parts he plays on "Beverly Hillbillies," this kink in his character and approach to the world may be seen. No apologies The son of the late Max Baer, onetime world's heavyweight champion and called "the most powerful man known to the ring," young Max is every bit as strong, virile and athletic as was his legendary dad. Yet he has the reputation of being gentle, sensitive and good-humored. He did not hesitate to clown through the double-barreled burlesque of hillbilly twins, donning wig, falsies and skirts when he appeared as Cousin Jethro's twin sister, Jethrine. Baer's antics in both roles helped boost the series to success. As the producer of the show, Paul Henning, told us: "Max is the kind of man so secure in his masculinity that he took on the role of a girl with no apologies, no explanations, no fears." Max's own view of donning female attire was matter-of-fact. "Maybe it'll help get the show rolling if people make a conversation piece out of it. Let them wonder if Jethrine is for real, and gradually they'll get on to the gag. My own family didn't realize Jethrine was me the first time they saw her on-screen." The role was eventually dropped, but to this day there are fans who still do not realize that Jethro's twin was not a huge girl, but a character projected by one of Hollywood's hottest new acting talents. When Max discussed Jethrine, it was all purely professional, "I've got a sister, you know — and, as her big brother, I've naturally been observing her for years. I think I have a fair notion of how young girls behave, even if they are somewhat misbegotten, like Jethrine. To be honest about it, I got a toecurling jolt the first time I saw myself in that getup. Buddy Ebsen, who's the star, caught my expression and laughed. 'Cheer up, girl,' he said. 'Chalk it up to education.' He's right. I've got a lot to learn. And Buddy's a whole school of acting in himself. If I ever get to be as big a star as Buddy, I hope his bigness of heart and soul will go with it." This mutual regard has produced a fast friendship off the soundstage, too. They go sailing weekends with Buddy's five younger children and wife Nancy. It is thought significant in Hollywood circles that Lori Patrick often accompanies this intimate little group as Max's date. Under contract to Revue, this young TV star greets all questions about a romance-in-the-works with a demure smile. "Oh, I like Max much, much, much . . . who doesn't? He can charm the birds out of the trees." According to Doug McClure, one of Max's pals, they were lunching together at the studio commissary when Max spied Lori at a distant table. "Doug, there's a girl I've got to meet," he said. Doug sighed, "Well, good luck, Charley, just get in line. Lori Patrick's a very independent cutie who likes her freedom and seldom dates." Nevertheless, pals being pals, he introduced them. Putting it mildly, Doug was "sur prised" to hear later that Max had been out with Lori that same night. That first date, it would appear, was a case of nonconformist meeting up with nonconformist, judging from Lori's account. "A few hours after meeting Max at the commissary, I went home and was told that he had phoned. I called back. As I recall it, what he said was, 'Any time, day or night, you're free and want to dine, dance or just talk, I'll be waiting, ready, willing and anxious . . .' Then he hung up. I turned this over in my mind, thinking that, as lines go, this was a new one on me. Then I remembered that I was supposed to go to a Foreign Press Club dinner and hadn't arranged for an escort. So I called Max right back and said, 'Oh, just in case you're ready, willing and anxious tonight, how about taking me to the Foreign Press Club Dinner?' He still kids me about this, but he's the kind of young man you can really relax with and not stand on ceremony." A thing or a fling? Max still insists he has no wish to "get serious and take up a girl's time until I'm in the mood for marriage — which is something I take very serious." But he has a trick of speech that is causing his friends to wonder. He'll say "B.L., I didn't care whether other people liked records or not — I enjoyed them and that was enough for me." B.L., of course, is Before Lori. Or else he'll remark, "B.L., I hardly ever dated a girl more than three times." Neither denies they like the same things . . . walking hand-in-hand along the beach, big dogs, cactus gardens, quiet evenings before a fire listening to records. Lori has a comprehensive classical collection, and she and Max often discuss the music they hear. Sometimes, between records, there's a roughhouse romp with her German shepherd "Dolf." Nonconformist that he is, Max isn't afraid to speak his mind bluntly on certain subjects that would be dodged by most. For example, he holds no high opinion of his uncle, Buddy Baer, who had been at odds with Max Sr. at the time of his death. "He didn't come to my father's funeral," young Max says flatly. "I can't like a man who'd do that." He also is outspoken in his criticism of the treatment accorded him at Warner Bros, studio and says so, regardless of any consequences. "Bill Orr (production head at Warners) promised me the moon and stars when I signed. None of these promises were kept. When I raised a fuss, Orr told me to calm down and be patient because, after all, I was collecting a salary and doing nothing. I looked him in the eye and said, T don't want money for nothing. I want to earn my salary.' You couldn't get me to sit around that lot again for the biggest payoff in town." Max has no pretensions. He lives in a small apartment "which gives me privacy and a swell kitchen. There's an avocado tree outside my window, and all I have to do is reach out and pick one in season. I eat an avocado a day. The place is rented furnished. Anyone who doesn't think it fancy enough