Don’t ask me if there’s a XXX parody of the old Batman TV show, and I won’t tell you there is one.
“Down the Bat Pole, Robin! Now up the Bat Pole, and…”
Don’t ask me if there’s a XXX parody of the old Batman TV show, and I won’t tell you there is one.
“Down the Bat Pole, Robin! Now up the Bat Pole, and…”
Art Linkletter has died at age 97, and frankly I was somewhat surprised to realize that he was still alive. When Linkletter’s daughter Diane committed suicide — or, as some claim, was murdered — by falling from a sixth story window, I had recently turned fourteen. At the time it was reported that she was on an LSD trip. When my twin sister Jean and I heard the news, I said, “drugs do the darnedest things!” This elicited a tremendous laugh from Jean. Yeah, we were kids.*
I knew about Art Linkletter’s “Kids Say the Darndest Things” from his House Party show on TV, and I knew about LSD trips from watching Dragnet. “Kids Say the Darndest Things” had been around in one incarnation or another for many years, and by the late 60’s the format had grown tired and it was near the end of its run. But back in the 50’s, it was quite popular.
In 1957, Art Linkletter published a collection of his “Kids Say the Darndest Things” stories that was illustrated by Charles M. Schulz. Years ago, I found a copy in a used book store for 50-cents.
This is a TV commercial that Linkletter made with his daughter Diane not too long before her death.
A posthumous father-daughter collaboration was a record called “We Love You, Call Collect,” released after Diane was gone. I can only imagine how tortured Linkletter must have felt when he lost her.
I can’t say that Art Linkletter had a big influence on me, but I can admire how he didn’t shy away from discussing his daughter’s problems. I think back to watching Linkletter (b.1912), Lawrence Welk (b.1903), and Jack Webb (b.1920) in the 60s, and I see men who had trouble dealing with the youth culture that had taken over. After all, hadn’t the older generation regained control after the first wave of rebellion was beaten back in the late 50s? But when I think of Charles Schulz (b.1922), I see a man who was not only in tune with the times, he made them his own. The same thing can be said of Walter Cronkite (b.1916). Their strength was in their flexibility.
*Another example of my twisted adolescent humor was my Mr. Ed the talking horse joke. Imitating Mr. Ed, as voiced by Chill Wills, “Bend over, Wilbur!”
Being a big fan of The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, a campy note-perfect send-up of old B-grade sci-fi movies, I couldn’t miss a chance to see the sequel, The Lost Skeleton Returns Again. It was shown in the comfortable 45-seat video screening room at the Coolidge Corner Theatre in Boston, as a double-bill with another recent Larry Blamire (BLAM-ear) movie, Dark and Stormy Night. With a full house and an enthusiastic audience, I was there with son Eric, along with friend Bismo and his son Chris. It was an extra fannish evening, thanks to the presence of actor Robert Deveau, who played the doomed farmer in Lost Skeleton.
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Deveau introduced both movies, and answered questions afterward. Eric asked how the DVD sales have been for The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, and Deveau said he wasn’t sure, but he knows they’ve earned back the cost of making the movie. Also in the audience was Blamire’s son Cory.
The Skeleton sequel is full of fun, and it was great seeing the cast reunited. I think my favorite moment was a truly inspired twist on the expression “run for it!” The Boston Globe has this review of The Lost Skeleton Returns Again and Dark and Stormy Night, and I more-or-less agree with it, but I’d give the latter movie three stars, because I enjoyed the large ensemble cast very much, all the way through, and I’m fond of the genre. While watching Dark and Stormy Night, I was reminded of The Old Dark House by James Whale (with Gloria Stuart, who turns 100 on the 4th of July). Something else that came to mind was Tex Avery’s 1943 cartoon Who Killed Who?
BTW, both movies will be out on DVD in August. Tech note: The DLP video projector at the theater reminded me of why I have a 3-LCD projector at home. I can live with its panel mis-convergence, but I can’t stand DLP’s “rainbow effect.”
On June 12, the sun will not come out tomorrow. Because after 85 years, Little Orphan Annie will come to an end as a comic strip. It’s inevitable, as will be the eventual deaths of Dick Tracy, Blondie, and other great comic strips that began in the 20’s and 30’s.
I already had something to say about the original run of Little Orphan Annie at this link. As critical as I may be about Harold Gray’s odd mixture of sentimentality and intolerance, I have read several collections from the 30’s, and I enjoyed them a lot, because no other comic strip conveys as much a sense of the Depression. Something I haven’t seen anybody else say, so maybe I’m off-base saying it, is that I think Robert Crumb borrows from Harold Gray in his style of inking and in his depiction of people.
Ya know, despite the appallingly stupid fight at the drunk party (are there any other kinds of fights at drunk parties?), I think I’m going to see Iron Man 2 again, especially because at the last minute Eric couldn’t go, due to something going on at school. I wouldn’t have gone at all, but I’d already bought tickets and Bismo was there with his son. This is the opening scene and, trust me, it’s much more impressive in IMAX than it is here, with 640×272 pixels. If you click the full screen button the player should hold the correct shape of the image.
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P.S. For the record, I have not been in a fight since last August, and the last time before that was 1977.
The giant of fantasy illustration is gone. Frank Frazetta, one of the most influential and imitated commercial artists of the 20th century, a singular and unique force in his craft, died Monday.
From comic book stories, to ghosting L’il Abner Sunday strips, to magnificent paintings for paperback book covers, Frazetta set a standard of such high caliber that, although he may have had contemporaries, he had no peers.
Figure drawing. For Frazetta, that was the thing. He loved drawing men and women. The human form, imbued with an innate fierceness, and an undeniable animal sexuality. Sometimes he drew the inhumanly human form!
Let the work speak for itself. First, some pencil drawings. A quick sketch done for a friend, using a pencil stub on cheap paper…

… and a couple of tightly-rendered samples for Flash Gordon.


Next, here are some works in pen and ink. A sketch for a John Carter of Mars book cover…

… and a Johnny Comet Sunday comic strip.

Finally, what Frazetta is known for best. His oil paintings. Two Conan the Barbarian paperback book covers…


…and higher-quality scans of the paintings. You’ll definitely want to click these to enlarge. Note the changes that Frazetta made to the original version of Conan the Buccaneer.


The original for the painting on the left, for Conan the Conquerer, sold last year for $1 million.