Variety (July 1954)

Wednesday, July 28, 1954 •*> PSSSEfr U==By JAMES CARHARTT & NICKY WINTER^ Genoa. So you think U.S. tv has everything? Well, on what channel did yon catch the re-birth of Salvador Dali? Because the televising of this event, which left milllions of Italians in a state of apathy bordering on the "super- natural, was the major attraction of our two weeks of . watching Italian tv. Only one thing could top it: star the wacky painter of wacky things for the r wacky-but- wealthy in a new series: Kukla, Fran & Dali. * After Dali’s rebirth, \>f which more later, the rest of Italian tv looks pretty tame. Matter of fact it looked pretty tame, before that, too. But Italo tv is far ahead of French tv. In France, on a clear day, you see tv in Paris only. Coaxial Paris-Marseilles relay cable is pre- viewed for late '54, meaning if any two responsible Frenchmen can agree on any one thing, including which way the cable should run, Marseilles may have tv by 1960. The first thing you see on-entering major Italian cities is familiar aerial-cluttered roofs. Major Italian broadcast- ing outlet is, natch, Home, with relays in Milan and Turin making reception pretty much countrywide. Pro- grams here are where U.S., tv was in ’48, during the pioneer or Dagmar period. Reception seems designed to prove bearded ladies can-always work. Cameras don’t move. Actors do, and always seem to do so uphill. But they’re trying here. In France, you Can get the Comedie Francaise and old movies. Italy has more variety and even older movies. Viewings here begin at 5:30 p.m. Mondays through Saturdays, run through 6:30-7 p.m., then off till 8:45, then back on continuously till 11:15 windup of late news and sports. Sundays start with 11 a.m. mass (cast is excellent but script could be cut) following which off till 4 p.m. to close. Total: 36 broadcast hours per week. Typical tv day goes something like this: | Hopalong Giuseppe . 1 5:30 p.m. Kid’s Programs. Usually standard daily open- ings. Fare varies. Old Gene Autry tv films, features Ole (dubbed) Gene a-lopin’ down that sunset trail twangin’ “O Sole Mio” on his git-tar.. Or an old Bobby Breen movie, “Rainbow On The River,” in installments, a very good way to see this one. Or a lecture oh ancient Roman architecture. (Yes, for kids!). Or marionettes. Italians know how to handle puppets, as witness Mussolini and King Victor Emmanuel. No Capt. Video. No blood. No bodies. One day of similar broadcasts and U.S. kids would go back to Radio and “civilized programs.” Follows filmed documentaries that must even have bored people Who made them. “How to Make .A Wheel,” “Ancient Roman Ruins,” “Piano Duets For Four Hands.” (This is invaluable for four-handed people). Then off till 8:45 news and night’s big programs. Unsponsored, and fea- turing, for the most part, gal announcers. Sort of Betty Furness minus Westinghouse. Night shows run to maybe U S. tv films (“Dangerous Assignment” or Stu Erwin- June Collyer Show. Dubbed, of course). Pop music shows, one called “The Five Senses Are Now Six,” greatest no- meaning title in tv history. Or panel shows, such as “La Vita Cominci A Ottant’Anni.” (“Life Begins At 80”). Now where did they get that title, d’you s’pose?). Night we caught it. this one kinda fell apart. Idea was oldsters would listen to modem problems and tell how they solved same problems in their youth. Announcer brought on very smooth dish with a problem: Announcer: (To old girl on panel. About 83) Now sup- posing you were like this signorina . . . 22 again and * a young man Was courting you ... Old Girl: I was married at 15. At 22 I hqd five children. If a man came courting me when 1 was 22, my hus- band vvoulda shot him. Announcer: Yes, but ... Old Girl: Whatsamatter, no one want to marry her? She’s still single at. 22, she’s too old to get married. (To one of the “boys” on panel, a stripling of 118 or so) Would you marry an old maid of 22? Announce*: But that is not , . . Old Girl: (To Ann’c’r) You shut' up, you. (To “boy”) Would you marry an old maid 22 with a problem? Old Boy: Sure. If she could cook. This went on for* quite awhile. We never did find out what the 22-year-old’s problem was. But you see how simple life in Italy is. 1 Vaiideo . ^ Then, couple nights a week is big TVaude program^ Sometimes called “Gran Festival dei Varieta.” Or “Rosso e Nero” (Red and Black). Whatever it’s called, program Is like Jackie Gleason show without Gleason. Acts—if that’s what they are—introduced by emcee and femcee. Boy looks like an underweight Jackie Miles. Gal acted like Honeychile Wilder, looked more like Thornton. Be- fore each intro, this pair makes with small talk. Talk was never smaller. Acts , caught included guy who gave seven minute “comic” monolog on different ways people die. Guy should play the Adams in Newark and really learn how to die. An American gal singer—name swal- lowed by m.c.—sang “Black Magic” in English. Next, a Truth or Consequences bit of three Women shaving three strange men. Followed short pause to clean up blood. Fmale: M.C, and femcee sang about how they would be_ back next week. Very threatening. 1 Drama I Friday nights, repeated Sunday aft, is big drama pro- gram ; This may be adaptation from French, something by Pirandello (We asked an Italian friend, “Where would Italian theatre be withdut Pirandello?”. Answer: “What Italian theatre?”) of something written for tv. Originals are for a star and several other people who, for all they nave to do, just happened to be at the studip that day. Acting is very much the, “You mean , . .? and. a heavy pause school. The star plants herself in front of the camera and everybody comes in from time to time and sorta tells her things. She reacts. Then the person she was told things about comes in. She re-reacts. Then the person explains. She reacts again. Then everybody clears awoy star has her big scene, and Theda Bara at. her height never heaved more bosom, Most tv dramas here seem to be about an older woman married to a younger man. Evidentljnat Italian weddings the “Something old” is the bride. Which brings us, one way or another, to the rebirth of S. Dali. Event took place at Rome’s Palazzo Pallavi- cini. Reason was pptning of exhibit i nf DaU’g paintings, jewelry designed' by him and. water colors illustrating Dante’s “Divin<*ComedyJ/ ^ ■ < Jewelry included a pair, of «*ruby Ups with pearl teeth to give to.your girl jo her friends' can- say, “Darling! Your pearls are like teeth!” Dali's rebirth had him pop- ping out of So called “metaphysical cube.” Cube looked like' an ordinary wooden box, but that may have been bad camera .work. Dali wore a re-birthday suit in natty awning stripes with a damask vest. Came to center stage and announced (1), he would have another rebirth in his native land. Spaln, which could use a rebirth of its oWn; (2), all young painters’Should;.follow his example or they would die (applause here);..and (3), his rebirth on Italian tv made him “feel like a virgin.” No other tv can make that statement 1 ■ . 11 . . 1 r 1 " ~i A Producer Is A— Bv ARTHUR HENLEY . (’Make Up Yoytr Mind ') - Remember when agency men and their clients primarily bought an idea? Well, these are changing times. From a production standpoint ,the way tv and radio have devoured and are presently consuming producers’ ideas, it seems to be time for the producer to put the emphasis on an-.: other part of his package: the treatment—the way the idea is put together! Leave us face it. Any idea for a show is only as good as its execution. This is a point commonly .underrated by the men and women Who supply the brainstorms on radio and tv. But let’s take a lesson from the radio-tv writer. All his ideas do not differ drastically. It is what he does with them that makes them each, unique and individualized them. And although by definition, a pro- ducer is one Who produces, by habit he more often creates (or represents) and markets ah idea. At least so .does the package producer. But the tremendous rate at which ideas today are consumed calls for more dynamic action on the part of the producer. What packaging is doing for the client, the package producer must do also. He must take that idea and wrap it around with the sort of treatment which will make it stand out with individuality. This applies to any kind of show; this in the long run, I am convinced, is what will make particular radio and/or tv. shows peculiarly outstanding. Of course, we start with an idea on which to base the program. But then must come the most important step (and one which is. undersold, nipe times out of 10) : that of presenting the idea uniquely. It all boils down to something the movie business learned many years ago, that after the basic idea must Come the treatment. And I think that this treatment is going to spell out the vitality of the fantastic new medium called television. Pace & Tempo Count ; On ‘‘Make Up Your Mind,” which we created, and produce^ for the Continental Baking Co. on- CBS Radio, we believe we have a pretty original idea, sure, but we . have tried to clothe it Ih a tightly-knit production which we believe and hope makes it outstanding and gets the very best out of the idea. And in tv we will do the same. And what makes one treatment successful and another a flop? Many factors. Such fundamentals as pace and tempo, and such details of production such as proper casting, display of the idea within a simple but effective frame Which advances the premise and doesn't detract one whit from the action. And let us also introduce a point which, most producers are either too modest to admit or else too busy to notice: the individuality of their own hand in putting the show together and getting it across There was a time (which unfortunately Still exists in many quarters) when show biz-wise people thought that only public service shows could be educational and only commercial shows could be entertaining. If I may inter- ject here, our program, “Make Up Your Mind,” which has been on the air for nigh on to a year, dispells a bit of this gloomy conjecture. Its consistently high audience response appears to evidence the fact that both entertain- ment and education can be successfully combined. And what makes it possible? i Well, we like to think it’s taking an idea (in small letters) and by dint of produc- tion. making it over into an IDEA (in big letters). Which makes for a perfectly saleable commodity and which we started out to say in the first place. Look, Ma, No Money By HERBERT HIRSCHMAN {Producer of CBS-TV’s ‘The Web’) When a television show is acclaimed, each contributor to the final result tries to take credit unto himself. When it is bad, the handwashing is every bit as frantic. As a producer, director and erstwhile story expert, I have some pretty definite ideas as to who contributes what. If the components of a dramatic show are script, acting, direction and physical production—I would assign the following percentages to the various contributions: Script 50; Acting 20; Directing 20; Physical production (sets, props, costumes, etc.) 10. .. What does this mean? Well, among other things, it means that niy story editor, Eugene Burr, now thinks I’m a prince among producers; one of my directors, Lela Swift, will wither me with a glance of next time we meet, and niy other director (myself) is schizophrenically saying, “traitor.” As for my designer, set decorator, costumer and lighting man, I shall just have to be extra polite to them for a couple of years to come. But I would be kidding if I didn't admit that story is and always will be “the thing.” An interesting story with believable characters can be acted with bare * competence, against grey drapes and photographed on a 50im lens by one camera—the audience will still think it’s fine. A poor story acted by stars, set magnificently and photographed with imagination and skill will, odds on, leave the audience uhhappy. This does not mean, of course, that a story is not im- proved by the other elements; a good story becomes a memorable one, a fair story makes a good show, and a terrible story fools-you some of the way, when it is acted, directed and produced with talent. Obversely, the effect of a good story can be minimized by improper direction and poor acting; A television show is the synthesis of many talents—each contributes to the whole. REVIEW-PREVIEW 41 By ARNIE ROSEN & COLEMAN JACOBY Monica Malamar, our tintype for today, is a natural blonde and has been for five years. She frankly admits to being 28 years old. (“I decided to be an actress when I saw my first motion picture in 1919.”) She considers herself a fine dramatic actress and will only accept roles befitting her talent. She will soon be seep in the nearly completed “Monster From Planet X.” The secret of her success in Hollywood is “Work, work, work.” She denies that you need connections to succeed. Her ex-husbands include a plastic-surgeon, a dentist, an agent and a producer. She fell in love with her present hubby at first sight, “but I didn’t want to make another mistake so we waited almost four days.” His name is Ramon Barcelona, and he is a fine, sensitive actor even though only two months ago he was a fine, sensitive truok-driver.” Monica is an incurable romantic and even blase Holly- wood was thrilled when at her wedding ceremony she said breathlessly, “This marriage will last forever if he gets a job soon.” She is a voracious reader and devours 10 or 12 books a week but finds that it interferes with her diet. She has an extensive library consisting of almost 30 scrap- books. She desperately wants to play the part of Madelyn, the wanton wench in the new bestseller, “The Magnificent Neurotic,” and has been beseeching S, H. Mogul, the head of the studio. (“I thought, I had him convinced a dozen times but he changes his mind every morning.”) Monica was discovered in a drugstore sipping boiler- makers just a few weeks after being expelled from High School. She once posed in the nude for a photographer but insists that it was all a mistake. (“I didn’t know he was going to take pictures,”) She loves to cook and putter around in the kitchen and once prepared a whole meal by herself. She denies that she is a clothes-horse. Most of the time she lounges around the house in a pair of blue jeans designed for her by Christian Dior. She sleeps in an oversized Army Cot, and leaves the windows wide open except in the summer. She sleeps in the nude except when she wears frilly nightgowns over her tailored pajamas. One Man’s Newsman By DAVIDSON TAYLOR (Director of Public Affairs, NBC) He should be as much at home in the world as Henry Cassidy. He ought to be as modest and as able as Frank Bourg- holtzer and as modest and as scholarly as Winston Burdett. He . knows his medium as well as Edward R. Murrow, He could well be as. engaging as John Charles Daly. He would be lucky to know as many important people as Richard HarknesS. He is as balanced and as clear as David Brinkley. He has as cold an eye in looking at the facts as Irving R. Levine. He is as sure-footed, as Frank Blair. He has as much curiosity as Charles Collingwood. He is as direct as Ray Scherer. He is as educated and as analytical as Joseph C. Harsch. His conscience is as keen as Reuven Frank’s. He has John Cameron Swayze’s cordiality and built-in- rating. He is as down to earth as Morgan Beatty. He pretends no more than Bill Chaplin, which is not at all. He should understand international broadcasting af- fairs as well as Romney Wheeler. He writes as well as Elmer Davis, and has as memorable a voice. He is as good at quick decisions as Gerald Green. He is as understanding of human beings and their worlds as Larry Lesueur. He is as adventurous -and as kind as Lowell Thomas, Senior or Junior. He is as young in heart and as ambitious as Roger Kennedy or Bob Abernathy. —And All This, Too He is as experienced as Earl Godwin and as H. V. Kaltejborn. He has as high a moral sense as Pauline Frederick’s. He is as widely travelled, with as good 0 work record everywhere he has been, as Red Mueller. He is no more at a loss for words than Bob Trout. Hs is as unimpressed as Larry Spivak. Hff talks as crisply as John K. M. McCaffrey. He can swim in the sea of ideas as well as Ben Grauer. He is as deeply roo,ted in the American soil as Clifton Utley. He is as dogged as Ed Newman. He is as funny as Walter Kiernan. He is as good a stylist and as good looking a i Eric Sevareid. His manner is as simple and unadorned as Clint Youle’s. His approach is as fresh as that of John Rich. He knows German history like Die'c Hottelet, speaks French like David Schoenbrun, and knows Rome like Jack Begon. He has the nerve of Eugene and Charles Jones. His police contacts are as good as Bill Birch's. He has as warm a heart and as much writing ability as Bob McCormick. He does not consider himself wise and aspires to accuracy. ■ , , . He knows that radio and television are the greatest news medii thus far devised, and wishes that this truism were as obvious to his employers and his critics as it is to him.