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[May 8, 1967] The Old and the New: Did Success Spoil Tony Randall?

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by Lorelei Marcus

It’s happened. They said it never would, but it’s finally happened. I’ve fallen out of love with Tony Randall.

Now before, dear reader, you careen away in horror and begin searching frantically for what blasphemous thing he could have done to cause this, I’ll simply tell you. Nothing. Tony Randall is the most considerate, chivalrous, and kind man alive, and virtuous…and married. While he is perfect, he is also perfectly happy with his wife, and may perhaps never even know my name. An unrequited love can only burn for so long before it must sleep in somber acceptance.

And so, the day has come for that to pass. But do not weep, dear reader, for I am not here to tell a sad tale of love lost, but rather to send off these two good years with a short trip through his movies and my memories of why I fell in love. Welcome to my farewell letter to Tony Randall.

The Beginning:

My first exposure to Tony Randall was in The Seven Faces of Doctor Lao. Ironically enough, thanks to his immense acting ability and an impressive makeup department, I only saw his seven characters, but never his actual face. I had respect for his name, but that was about all. Until, of course, I saw him on the game show ‘Password’ the next week. That was the real him, and oh boy was he incredible. He won four games in a row, (unheard of!) and he used words I’d never known existed. And so, the seeds of love were sown.

From then on I vowed to watch everything Randall has ever been in and will be in, a blessing and a curse. While Dr. Lao was an unusual set of roles, I particularly admired Randall as Lao himself, and the wise, leading persona he put on. I began searching for movies with him in that handsome leading role, and was sorely disappointed. Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?, Brass Bottle, and Fluffy may have all had his name in the title cards, but that didn’t save them from being fairly awful movies. Worse yet, in all of them plays a type: an ineffectual, weak, neurotic man. They could not have been further from the man underneath the act, the one I was searching for.

Until now. Perhaps I was able to move on partially from the closure Bang! Bang! You’re Dead, Randall’s most recent film, gave me. Since Dr. Lao, this movie is everything I’ve been looking for and more.

Bang! Bang! You’re Dead, or Our Man in Marrakesh, as it’s known in England (and what I will refer to the film as from here on out because I like the title better), is a spy farce directed by Don Sharp and written by Peter Yeldham. It stars an ensemble cast with some big names, including Senta Berger, Herbert Lom, and Terry-Thomas. The advertising for the film is horribly misleading; don’t be fooled by the posters of Tony Randall crawling awkwardly through a bikini-clad woman’s legs. The plot and its handling of both Randall’s and its female characters is very nuanced and sophisticated.

Speaking of plot, here’s what the movie is about. A powerful syndicate leader is trying to make a deal to fix votes in the United Nations. The last step to his plan is to make contact with a courier carrying two million dollars, one of six people on the bus from Casablanca. The only problem is at least three of them fit the bill for his contact, and he doesn’t know which one it is.

Randall plays unassuming Andrew Jessel, who gets accidentally roped into this mess when he finds a dead man in his closet. With the aid of a mysterious, beautiful woman who can’t tell the truth to save her life, and the natives of Marrakesh, he must unravel the truth and stop the syndicate before the contact is made—or die trying.

The film is a wonderful balance of poking fun at the absurdities of the spy genre and utilizing them in serious and satisfying ways. It is complex, with characters and problems that are not strictly black and white. It has action and romance, but in believable forms that make the movie feel grounded in reality despite its farcical nature. But most of all, it gives an opportunity for Randall to play the leading man I always knew he was capable of. He’s not suave and cocky like James Bond, nor cool-headed and calculating like John Drake. He’s no spy, at least at the start, but he is clever, confident, and competent, and that’s the kind of main character I like to see. Perhaps even the kind I can fall in love with.

The End:

Tony Randall, the perfect man, in the perfect role. How can one not love him? Well, sadly, Our Man in Marrakesh is the exception, not the rule. He’s played quite a few nebbish side characters in all of the Doris Day/Rock Hudson movies, and that bizarre romp Island of Love.

That trend began in his first film role, Oh Men, Oh Women!, which, ironically, has been the final movie of Randall’s I’ve seen. In it he plays Grant Cobbler, a neurotic nutcase dogmatically chasing a man’s fiancee. While he plays the role excellently (I would expect nothing less), the experience of watching him applies neatly to the rest of the movie as well: tedious bouts of discomfort with the occasional flash of hilarity. The plot is fairly convoluted, but generally it follows the strife in two marriages and how it’s resolved. As I mentioned before, not particularly pleasant to watch.

I think this film was the nail in the coffin for my dwindling feelings. It cemented that the roles Randall plays are so far from his true self, and yet are the only format I will ever be allowed to see him in. I don’t want to live from movie to movie, game show to game show, hoping and longing for the hint of a glance at the man underneath the mask. I fell in love with the man, not the character, and that is possibly the hardest truth of all. For among his many, many talents, Tony Randall, at his core, is an actor.

The Beginning (Again):

I once heard that to love someone is to want what is best for them, even when it hurts you. I wish only success for Tony Randall, and I will continue to support and respect him as an actor. I think it is only fitting to begin this new relationship with objective ratings of the two movies I’ve reviewed here, just as I would do in any other article.

Our Man in Marrakesh gets five stars; it brilliantly executes everything it tries to do. Truly the “Russians are Coming” of spy films. I would love this movie regardless of who was in the leading role. Go watch it while it’s out in theaters.

Oh Men, Oh Women! gets two stars. This movie did not translate from a stage setting to a film one very well. I’m still trying to figure out what the point of it was. Go see Our Man in Marrakesh twice before you consider watching this movie.

And so, it ends as it begins, without him.

Farewell, dear Tony. Thank you for everything.



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Movies, TV

[March 24, 1966] Dark Comedy and Birthday Wishes (a Tony Randall double feature)

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by Lorelei Marcus

Spring is here

The month of spring is upon us, and with it comes the withdrawal of the frigid cold, swaths of buds peeking from their branches, and the boisterous emergence of new life. It's a wonderful time of year, warming the earth until "California Dreaming" is no longer necessary, and promising renewal in general. Yet the most important part of March is not the spring equinox, or another green-centric holiday, or good weather, or flowers, or the fresh start of life.

The most important part of March is the fact that it contains my birthday.

And it just so happened that my special day fell right between two old movie reruns, each of them starring the love of my life, Tony Randall.

I couldn't have asked for a better gift.

Many Happy Buryings

Of course my obligation to consume every piece of media Randall has ever been in is what drove me to watch an obscure TV special of Arsenic and Old Lace . It took that initial incentive, because I have been wary of Arsenic and Old Lace since I'd previously had to watch it (the 1944 film with Cary Grant) in my drama class. Needless to say, the experience was both exasperating and unpleasant. Luckily, this version was neither of the above, and had me hooting with laughter throughout the program.

For those who are unfamiliar with the show, Arsenic and Old Lace is a dark comedy about two sweet old ladies who murder for fun, and their poor nephew, Mortimer Brewster, who discovers their nasty habit and tries to clean up the whole mess. Further conflict arises when Boris Karloff- I mean Jonathan Brewster, Mortimer's brother and a notably malicious murderer, returns home to hide out for a while. As you might imagine, insanity ensues.


The Brewster sisters

I was pleasantly surprised by just how funny this rendition of the classic chaotic plot was. I have to credit the sublimity of the production to three main parts: the acting, the script, and the pacing. I would round off my praise with compliments to the set design as well, but my TV sadly went on the fritz that evening, and I could hardly see what was happening through the snow. Apparently there are still problems the magic of color television cannot fix.


(Not) Boris Karloff and his associate, Dr. Einstein

Yet I still managed to enjoy the show, thanks to some excellent casting choices. Dorothy Stickney and Mildred Natwick play Aunt Abby and Martha Brewster perfectly, with just the right amount of sweetness and charm to build sympathy for these lovely old women, despite their homicidal tendencies. Their banter with each other and their nephews is hysterical, and the contrast of their outwardly harmless appearance with their dark secret is very fun.


Our hero

Boris Karloff is, of course, excellent in his dark, monstrous role. He plays a great foil to the aunts, defining the line between true evil and simply misunderstood. The ladies murder for the claimed benefit of their victims, and they take great delight in their charity work. Jonathan, instead, clearly murders out of spite and has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. The difference is key in establishing who the audience should root for; the homicidal aunties seem a touch less bad and un-relatable when compared with a literal scourge of the Earth.


Sibling rivalry

Though the rest of the cast is marvelous, I'd have to say Tony Randall gives the best performance as Mortimer Brewster, the straightman nephew. You may believe I have a slight bias in favor of Randall at this point, and that's probably true, but I think it's also fair to say that his execution of Mortimer ties the whole show together. Mortimer is a complex balance of a character, always in between being both capable and yet on the edge of a nervous breakdown. If he falls too far in either direction he's either unfunny, annoying, or both. This was the downfall of the first version of Arsenic and Old Lace that I'd watched. That Mortimer was too excitable to get anything done, and spent the entire show whining and floundering around insufferably. Randall was the complete opposite.

He struck the perfect equilibrium of distressed yet productive that made his character both likable and hilarious. The scene where he tries to call his boss to alert him that he can't come into work had me rolling with laughter. I may be severely biased, but here, Randall is deserving of the praise.


Tom Bosley has a humorous turn as Teddy Roosevelt.

The other two great aspects of the show go hand in hand. The dialogue is witty, fun, and delightfully self-aware. I found all the jokes about Jonathan looking like Boris Karloff particularly funny and ironic (given that they got Karloff to play Jonathan!) Alongside the script was the masterful direction, which ensured that the jokes never fell flat and the pacing never dragged. The presentation was very tight and complemented the other positive aspects perfectly. Overall, this version of Arsenic and Old Lace was a splendid time watching the wild antics of the nutty but charming Brewster family. There's not a single flaw that I can find, just a great time, therefore I give it five stars.

Down to New Orleans

The second film, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn , aired a week later as the local Saturday night movie. It kept in keeping with the theme of dark yet funny classics. Based on the 1884 novel of the same name, the film follows a young Huckleberry Finn as he runs away from his abusive father and takes a raft down the Mississippi with his friend and runaway slave, Jim. Finn and Jim encounter a variety of obstacles on their journey, including a feuding family, slave hunters, and a couple of cunning swindlers who rope them into their con. Eventually, they get through it all thanks in part to Finn's ability to lie through his teeth, and the story ends bittersweetly as the traveling pair must seperate and pursue their own paths.


A pensive Huck contemplates a world without shoes

I definitely enjoyed the movie, though I think I would rather read the novel if I would ever consume the story of Huck Finn again. The pacing drags at the beginning, probably due to some poor direction choices and Eddie Hodges' (Huck Finn) stiff acting. Both improve as the show goes on, but the first hour could benefit from being about 20% shorter.


Jim convinces Huck to board his raft

This also may have been a case where Tony Randall's superb acting skills actually hurt the production. Randall plays "The King of France," the brains of the two grifters who force Finn to play along in one of their plots. Unfortunately, he gives the role such charisma and personality that it took me nearly the whole movie to realize his character was supposed to be the villain! Perhaps in hindsight the child-threatening and attempted gold theft should have tipped me off, but truly, who can hate a man that competent at what he does? (Especially one that looks like Tony Randall)


The villain?

My favorite part of the movie was the nuanced way it conveyed its abolitionist themes. Despite explicitly stating several times how "freeing slaves is wrong," the story develops Jim just enough that we empathize with him and hope that he acquires his freedom. Archie Moore's lovable performance also aids in building rapport and getting the audience to root for Jim, especially in heart-wrenching scenes like when he tearfully describes regret at hitting his daughter. This subtle antiracism is a bit new to me, compared all the (justified) current protests and riots that are explicitly denouncing unequal treatment of the black community. It gives me hope that perhaps art like this can be used to bridge the gap of understanding to those who insist on marching in white sheets.


Poignant stuff — who can but wince when seeing a man in chains?

The film is also fairly amusing, with a few solid jokes, and some good physical comedy and dialogue. The funnest part was seeing all the crazy tall tales Finn comes up with to get out of tight situations. I found it very funny that Finn ultimately never gets punished for any of his fibs, subtly implying that the only way to successfully get through life is to flat out lie all the time. I personally haven't read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn , so I don't know if this theme is an artifact of Mark Twain's writing, or just some poor script and direction choices. Despite its flaws, the movie successfully told the story and conveyed the messages it was trying to, all while being fairly entertaining along the way. I give it three stars.


Bittersweet parting

Seventeen candles

And with that, my birthday festivities have come to a close. I think it's time I step away from the silver screen and instead take a walk outside and appreciate the dawning spring. The experience of another year has granted me new wisdom, and I'd like to see what life has to offer outside the artificial television set.

At least, until the next Tony Randall movie comes along.

This is the Young traveler, signing out.




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Magazine

[November 20, 1965] A fine cup of coffee (December 1965 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

The Peak of Flavor

I mentioned in my review of last month's issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction that that venerable veteran of the genre had finally returned to form under the guidance of editor Joe Ferman.  I'm happy to announce that this doesn't seem to be a fluke.  Indeed, reading the current issue was such a delight that it proved difficult to confine myself to just one story a day.

Yet that's what I did, in large part because each story was strong enough to leave a lasting impression, and like with of a good cup of coffee, sometimes you want to savor the flavor after each sip.

So come along with me on a tour of the December 1965 Fantasy and Science Fiction, at the end of which, I suspect you'll do your best Tony Randall impression of a DJ, smack your lips, and exclaim, "That's good coffee."

An Overflowing Cup


by Bert Tanner (illustrating Jack Vance's The Overworld)

Breakthrough Gang, by Gordon R. Dickson

Breakthrough Gangship Four, crewed by a small clutch of psionic women and men, is Earth's hole card in an interstellar war against the rapacious Kinsu. If they can stall the retreat of the alien armada long enough for the bulk of the Terran fleet to arrive, the haughty race will have to recognize human superiority and call off the struggle.

But on the eve of activating their ship's secret weapon, tactitian Dave Larson hesitates, certain that though they may win the battle, doing so spells doom for the human race.  Worse yet, this catastrophe seems to have been ordained from an event preceding contact with the Kinsu, perhaps even from a point in human prehistory!

And this inevitability has nothing to do with the Kinsu or human races, but chessmasters far older than either…

There are some parallels between this story and Bova's Stars, won't you hide me? in the January 1966 Worlds of Tomorrow, though not in a more than coincidental way.  If you read them side by side, you'll understand what I mean.

I wavered between awarding three and four stars to this piece, ultimately settling on three.  There's a lot of neat concepts in here, and the story makes you think, but the middle third is repetitive and the last third a bit too dependent on "as you know" exposition. 

In coffee terms, the aroma is pleasant if unsubtle.  But in the end, the value's in the drinking.  Let's dive in for our first sip, shall we?


by Gahan Wilson

O'Grady's Girl, by Leo P. Kelley

At the sunset of her life, an old teacher and her pupil meet Mr. Death and his retinue — and it's most unlike any characterization of the Grim Reaper I've ever seen.

A quintessentially F&SF-ian tale, it's delicious and full-bodied, just lovely.  Five stars.

The Convenient Monster, by Leslie Charteris

Stories of The Saint don't often veer into the realm of the supernatural. This one starts with a sheep and dog that seem to have been prey for the Loch Ness Monster, and Charteris builds it slowly and inexorably to a murder plot that may or may not involve Old Nessie.

Come for the Scottish scenery, stay for the striking denouement.  This java's got bite.

Four stars.

The Firmin Child, by Richard H. Blum

In this first story ever produced by the author's pen, an unhappy and somewhat dysfunctional couple right out of the 1958 sleeper, No Down Payment, find themselves not up to the task of raising a precocious but increasingly erratic, child.  At first, it seems the boy may be a high functioning autist, but we come to realize that his strange behaviors, almost a channeling of other's emotions, derive from something more bizarre.

Some blends of coffee have a bitter undertone.  I give Blum four stars for creating a vivid work, but I can't say I enjoyed the aftertaste…

Water, Water, Everywhere, by Isaac Asimov

What's bigger: The Dead Sea or The Great Salt Lake?  Is the Caspian Sea really a sea?  How many oceans are there in the world?  These and dozens of other hydrographical brain teasers come free in your latest issue of F&SF, courtesy of Dr. Isaac Asimov!

I kid, but geography's a science, too, and one of my favorites.  Four stars.

Minor Alteration, by John Thomas Richards

Walter Bird is plagued by nightly dreams in which he is John Wilkes Booth, and each day/night brings him 24 hours closer to his date with history at the Ford Theater.  Can he prevent tragedy?  Should he?

Richards' tale apparently sat in a drawyer at F&SF HQ for several years before finally being printed.  It doesn't cover much new ground, and the alternate universe it explores is rather implausible.  I can see why the piece languished.

Still, even if it's the weakest tea…er….coffee in the cup, it's not bad.  Three stars.

The Overworld, by Jack Vance

And now we come to the very last swallow.  Will it satisfy or leave us wanting? 

Worry not.  One can always count on Jack Vance for an unusual and interesting tale, and he doesn't disappoint now.  Instead, he offers up the first of the tales of Cugel the Clever, a (literally) lowbrow peddler of fake charms in a magical world.  Cugel is reduced to thievery when his wares don't sell, but he is quickly caught in the act by the powerful Ioucunu the Laughing Magician.  Thenceforth, he is dispatched on a mission for the angered mage, to find a particular violet lens in the far land of Cutz.

If Fritz Leiber's and Robert Howard's creations had mated, this new world of Vance's might have been the result.  Delightfully overwrought but always readable, I look forward to the promised next four stories in the series.

Four stars.

Good to the Last Drop

Do we really have a four star mug of F&SF steaming before us?  I do believe so!  It's been a long time since Mercury Press' science fiction mag delighted me so, but I can't say I'm sorry it happened.

So why don't you cap off your science fiction buffet this month with a delicious helping of F&SF?  Smooth, rich, goes down easy.  Good to the last drop.

The holidays are coming!  Looking for the perfect gift for a niece, nephew, or other young relative?  Kitra is the hopeful, found family novel that they've been waiting for.  Buy a copy for them today…and perhaps one for yourself!




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Movies

[November 14, 1965] A Teenage Dream (The Mating Game)

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by Lorelei Marcus

With the announcement of TV game show Password's hiatus, so were my glimpses of my favorite actor in his best form put on hold.  Left with only the occasional episodes of What's My Line where I could hope to expect maybe two minutes of his handsome face on my screen, and the schlock reruns of his stardom in the 50's that even the projectionists didn't care to watch, my chances of seeing my crush seemed bleak and scarce.

Last Sunday was a cold, dreary day that I'd spent staring at my signed photograph of Tony Randall, contemplating my dark fate, when hope burst through my door.  Hope in the form of my father and a cramped drive-in schedule that included, wedged into the afternoon slot, a movie starring the object of my dreams.

Never have I gotten into a car so fast.

The Mating Game

I went in with low expectations.  The horrid experiences of The Brass Bottle and Fluffy only furthered the trend of Randall's name in the credits being a bad omen for the quality of the movie.  That's why it was such a pleasant surprise when the film opened on a sprawling "Maryland" landscape, settling in on the hustle and bustle of the Larkin family farm.  Pa Larkin (Paul Douglas) and his children are introduced trying to sneak their neighbor's boar onto their truck after "borrowing" it for stud services.  The farm is cluttered with knicknacks, appliances, and an abundance of farm animals, all fundamental parts of Pa's "trading" business, with which he earns his living.


Paradise.

An aspiring self-sufficient homesteader myself, I liked this setup quite a bit. 

Of course, conflict quickly arises when Pa tries to return the boar to Mr. Burnshaw, who's a longtime enemy of the Larkin family.  Finally fed up with their antics, Burnshaw calls up the Internal Revenue Service and demands an income tax investigation.  It turns out that the Larkins have never paid income tax, never even filed a return.  A federal agent is assigned to the case.

Enter our leading man, Mr. Tony Randall, himself.  Luckily, contained as I was in our car, I was able to squeal to my utmost ability, only to the detriment of my father's hearing.

Randall, as the improbably named "Lorenzo Charlton", fares about as well on the assignment as you might expect any respectable government worker trying to apply law and order to an old fashioned farm.  That is to say utter chaos ensues as the whole Larkin family takes every opportunity to make Charlton feel at home when all he wants to do is get the job done.

Worse still for his work is Pa's beautiful, fun-loving daugher, Mariette (Debbie Reynolds) who takes an aggressive liking to Charlton.  (If there were ever an accurate representation of the Young Traveler on the silver screen, tomboyish, hellraising, Tony-Randall loving Mariette is it!)


Love at first sight.


Lorenzo's heart starts to thaw on the set of Forbidden Planet.

All sorts of high jinks ensue, ranging from the theft of Charlton's motor by Pa's two boys (ostensibly to keep it from burning oil; in reality, to keep the taxman in the house long enough to fall for Mariette) to a scene featuring a very drunk Charlton dancing around in his underwear.  It's an absolute romping delight to witness.


Tony Randall in his underwear.  That's all I needed to know.

Unfortunately, the fun doesn't last, as unfriendly neighbor Burnshaw calls up Charlton's boss and demands to know why the Larkins haven't been completely ruined yet.  The future looks dim as Charlton's boss comes to the farm himself, threatens to fire Charlton if he doesn't leave, and then determines that the Larkins, in fact, owe Uncle Sam $50,000!

The newly budding love between Charlton and Mariette cut off a the root, the Larkin family property on the block…whatever shall our heroes do?


Lorenzo is sent on his way.


Mariette plans to take on the IRS single-handedly.

Well, to give it away, the movie has a happy ending.  And it comes in an unpaid Civil War era government contract worth considerably more than what the Larkins owe.  In an act of heroism, Charlton convinces no less a personage than the Treasury Department's Inspector General to go to the farm and make good on the debt. 


Charlton takes on the IRS single-fingeredly.

The Larkins are happy not to owe but resistant to the idea of being millionaires, or as Pa repeatedly says:

"We eat good, sleep good, feel good. What more do we need?"

Charlton makes the brilliant suggestion of allocating the government debt to the Larkins to cover any current and future tax obligation, to which the IG gladly agrees. 

Charlton (now universally called "Charlie") and Mariette run off to roll in the haybales together, and everyone lives happily ever after.

The Mating Game is an unexpected delight with a fun premise carried by fine acting.  Paul Douglas (in his last role) and Una Merkel have wonderful chemistry as Pa and Ma, warming every scene they're in.  Debbie Reynolds does an excellent job capturing the wild charm of a young farmgirl, especially when she's dashing up and down, being chased around the barn by suitors, or riding her horse over path and fence.  Even the child actors, all four of them, are good, adding just the right punch lines to already hysterical scenes.

And of course, as always, Tony Randall is superb.  His delivery is crisp, his growing exasperation appears genuine, and his "bad" inebriated dancing is still incredibly impressive.  It is such a relief that, for once, he was able to play a competent and likable character.  To the girls I overheard in the car next over saying that "they should have gotten a more handsome leading man," I ask, "ARE YOU BLIND?"  The fastidious but charming Charlton couldn't possibly have been played better by anyone else!

But in the end, I was bound to love this movie.  It is my dream set to celluloid: living on a farm with Tony Randall.  And though the story is quite silly at times, and the ending a little too good to be true, The Mating Game serves its purpose as a sweet escape from reality.  If the tumultuous year of 1965 has gotten to be too much for you, then I strongly advise (check local cinema and TV listings of course) a trip to green Maryland with Tony Randall on your arm.

Just be sure to give him back when you're done — I do have a big fat crush on him, after all.

Until then, this is the Young Traveler, signing off.




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Fashion, music, politics, sports, TV

[July 10, 1965] "Since I fell for you" (a Young Traveler's crush)

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by Lorelei Marcus

Love. The fluttering of butterflies, entire acceptance of another, passionate desire, comradery, compassion, a word. Love is used so often and means so much that it's practically a cliché. I hear it applied to numerous names on the radio, such as "Johnny," "Wendy," and "my darling in Michigan." Nearly every man on television has a woman to love or fall in love with. And perhaps the most visible example at the moment is the squealing masses of girls my age who claim to be in love with the Beatles. I once, foolishly, saw myself above it all. Sure I like to date, and I love my parents, but those gooey feelings that seem to saturate every cranny of our culture were beyond me and my maturity.

That is, until America's most charming actor came along.

This is how I fell hard for handsome, clever, talented teen idol of the century: Tony Randall.

My first real encounter with Tony Randall (one Password game I don't remember aside) was his starring role(s) in Seven Faces of Dr. Lao. The movie itself was whimsical and fun, but it was certainly Randall's acting that made it a memorable experience. He blends into each of his seven roles perfectly, to the point that I first believed they were played by different actors!

He's at his best though, when he is playing Dr. Lao; specifically when he drops the stereotypical façade of a foolish Chinese man and becomes the traveled scholar underneath. Suddenly he is standing straight and tall, almost regal in his confidence. His voice is deep and carrying, but his demeanor is kind, wise, and gentle. He speaks in a perfect and precise manner and his words discuss the magical secrets of the universe. I hadn't known it at the time, but despite all the makeup and effects, this role was one of the closest to Randall's true self.

At this point, I was awed by Randall's performance in the movie, but felt little beyond that. Dr. Lao was a few thousand years too old for my tastes, and I had yet to see the man behind him more clearly. Then my father's and my weekly Password viewing happened to feature a very special guest. I was quite excited, not necessarily because it was Tony Randall on Password, but simply because it was an actor that I recognized and admired. At least, that's how it started.

I was folding laundry while watching the TV, and I found my attention frequently drifting away from my linens and to the man on screen (no, not host Alan Ludden.) Randall was fascinating to watch. He always sat with perfect poise and spoke with wonderful rich tones. And he was absolutely erudite, forcing me to pull out a dictionary a few times. His brilliance aided in his gameplaying as well, as I believe he is the only player in Password history so far to win four games in a row!

It was an experience. The feelings crept up on me and changed. I admitted later that night to my father that I may have had the teensiest tiniest insignificant little crush on Tony Randall. After a bout of laughter and teasing, suddenly our dining room table was covered in TV guides and movie schedules in a desperate search for a single starring name. This wasn't just a harmless crush anymore, but rather a crusade to expose myself to as much Tony Randall content as possible.

That's how the family ended up at the local theater watching one of the last viewings of Boys Night Out, a movie starring James Garner, Tony Randall, and a host of others. Three married men and one recently divorced make a plan to share a luxurious apartment where they can each escape from their lives at home with a beautiful girl for a night. Except the beautiful girl they find turns out to be a sociologist, so those nights don't go quite as expected. It was a cute film with hopeful messaging and a good ending. Not to mention how amazingly colorful the sets and costumes were.

Unfortunately the direction wasn't the best, making the movie a little boring in parts. It didn't help that Tony Randall was only in some of the scenes. Even when he was on screen he played a man meant to be weak, average, and unintelligent. Randall did a fantastic job portraying the character, down to the deliberate slouching, but it was infuriating to watch because he was playing the complete opposite of the man I wanted to see– himself! Sadly this would become a trend…

Next we found a drive-in playing a double feature revival night of Barbara Eden movies. Funny enough both films also happened to star Tony Randall. First we watched The Brass Bottle, your typical genie story. Randall plays a young up and coming architect (a role better suited for literally any other male actor in Hollywood) who accidentally frees a genie of near limitless power who now answers to his every whim. Of course the genie is a few thousand years out of date, so how he executes those orders varies from inconvenient to disastrous for Randall's character.

Overall the movie was terrible, even with Randall's superb acting (once again wasted on a slouching, sputtering fool.) The one good scene is when Randall gets to interact with the mule and has to ad lib. for part of it. Randall also executes quite a few fantastic girly screams. That's it though; otherwise it's a one star movie.

The second movie carried a little more promise: Will Success Ruin Rock Hunter? was Randall's breakout role into cinema, after all. Randall plays a young up-and-coming marketing executive – I'm noticing a pattern here – who accidentally seduces a movie star and is turned into the world's best lover overnight, causing chaos to ensue in his life. The movie had too much it wanted to do. It took time in the introduction and halfway through for comedic bits poking fun at television and marketing. Its main plot sacrificed character development for ridiculous slapstick that wasn't particularly funny, and ultimately the ending was thrown out too, to fit in a speech about the moral. Despite all these flaws, it was still a better movie than Brass Bottle. It was clever in a few parts, and watching Tony Randall be mobbed by teenage girls was hilarious.

Both films are a testament to Randall's acting skills. He takes these roles of such generic characters and plays them to a T. This means aside from some very brief moments where the mask slips, I don't actually get to watch the actor that I know and like. For instance, I know that Tony Randall started in stage productions and is a professionally trained dancer. Yet twice in Rock Hunter he is forced to dance poorly, going against all his instincts and training, and he succeeds (at dancing poorly)!

Randall has so much potential as an actor, and yet no one can seem to cast him in anything but comedic romps (excluding the unusual case of Dr. Lao)! It makes me wary of the new Fluffy movie that's just come out. Especially considering Randall himself had an unpleasant time filming with the lion. I will still see it of course – I have a duty to uphold – but I've found that Randall's name in the credits doesn't guarantee I'll enjoy a film he's in.

On the bright side, television has been kinder (both to him and me) than the movies. I got to see Randall on What's My Line? last week and he was as composed and well spoken as ever. I hear he'll also be on Password again in the next few weeks, so have something to look forward to.

I also hope to see him in one of his stage shows. With all the character and energy he brings to each role on the screen, I bet he really shines under the spotlight. Nevertheless, whatever he's in next, be it on film, video, kinescope, or (if I'm lucky) on a stage, I'll be there to watch it.

Because I have a big old crush on Tony Randall.

This is the Young traveler, signing off.

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Movies

[March 31, 1964] 7 Faces and 7 Places (The movie, 7 Faces of Dr. Lao)

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by Victoria Lucas

Place Number 1: Denver

The neat thing about film festivals is not just being able to see more than one film in a short period of time.  It's the gossip, the revelations, the people who show up, some of them onstage.  In this case the festival site was Denver, Colorado.  Seem an unlikely place for a film festival?  But there it was that "7 Faces of Dr. Lao," made last year, enjoyed its first U.S. release on March 18.  I went there basically to see that one film, but my ride-sharing friend went to see many.  So I saw a little of Denver outside the movie theater.  But I'm not here to review Denver. 


My mom's postcard—I don't have a camera

Place Number 2: the MGM lot

If you saw my review of Finney's Circus of Dr. Lao back on June 16, 1962 you would know why I went to such (literally) lengths to see this movie.  It did not disappoint, but I did object to the interpolations of a soppy romance and a hackneyed Western takeover-the-town plot.  The "Circus" was filmed, according to sources, on the MGM back lots, although some of those Culver City hills must be pretty rough if that's so.  My theory is that filming on location was out due to the many roles of Tony Randall, who plays Dr. Lao, the Abominable Snowman, Merlin, Apollonius of Tyana, Pan, The Giant Serpent, and Medusa.  All those makeup and costume changes (to say nothing of any other cast) must have needed the workshop of famed makeup artist William Tuttle and a large selection of MGM costumes, as well as (not credited) costumer Robert Fuca.

Place Number 3: Chujen, Chu, China

This was the last place Laozi was seen alive (531 BC), if indeed he did live.  In the movie, but not the book, the Abalone newspaper editor, Ed, asks where he is from, and after Dr. Lao tells him this place, Ed looks it up (providing an opportunity to see his love Agnes, who in the movie is a librarian as well as a teacher) and confronts Dr. Lao with the news that Chujen no longer exists, so what is going on?  So we and Ed see the circus tent and Merlin (not in the book) for the first time.  And that provides me with an excuse to tell you the following.  The plot of both Finney's story and the film was, very briefly, that the circus comes to town, the town of Abalone, to be exact.  But it's not a Barnum & Bailey-type circus.  It arrives somehow with, or in the person of, the Chinese legend Laozi (Lao-Tse, Dr. Lao, or as you wish), since in the movie he arrives on a donkey with only a fishbowl and fish, as well as a pipe, which he ignites with his thumb as lighter.  It consists of other legends, myths, and gods in—as it were—the flesh.  The rest is what happens to, of, with, by, and from the circus and its hawker, guide, medicine man, and (in the movie) magical self, Dr. Lao.


Courtesy of University of Arizona Special Collections

Place Number 4: Abalone, Arizona

MGM's Abalone, understandably, looks just like all those old western towns you see in television shows and movies, more than one horse, but not more than half a dozen, and not more than that many streets.  I always thought of Finney's Circus as taking place in the late 1920s, when he began the story while he was still billeted in China by the U.S. Army.  But this version of the story takes place in that same smeared-out time zone that westerns always use—somewhere between 1890 and 1910, when record players were known as gramophones, and when men were men and women were uh … unable to take care of ourselves. 

Place Number 5: Tucson, Arizona

Many people, including me, think that Abalone, Arizona—the setting of more than one Finney story—was actually Tucson.  And there is an "Old Tucson," a movie set just outside Tucson that became a tourist attraction in which the stagecoach gets robbed twice daily.  The set really epitomizes that "Old West" stereotype that dominates in "7 Faces."  But in desert scenes, saguaro cacti figure heavily in the movie's landscape.  Most people don't know that saguaros are not found anywhere but in the Sonoran Desert.  There is a certain creep, perhaps a foot or so per year, as the cacti spread around mainly southern Arizona (U.S.) and northern Sonora (Mexico), but at this point they only live in the Southwest, and not on the MGM lot in California.  The ones on the MGM lot look pretty strange.  I would have said that the cacti were the worst things about the movie, were it not that I realized that their strange appearance (looking like cardboard cutouts) adds to the surreal nature of the film.


A real—not surreal—saguaro cactus near Tucson, Arizona

Place Number 6: Dr. Lao's circus tent

The circus tent of the good doctor is said to be "bigger on the inside than it is on the outside" by one observer in the movie, and indeed it has many twistings and turnings.  In fact it is rather like a layered labyrinth and is a remarkable movie set, one of the best inventions of the movie, I think.  There is a lair for every beast, a spiel for every part of the tent.  Steps up, steps down– Hurry! Hurry!–a very strange circus tent that provides the setting for the fish from Dr. Lao's fishbowl, not in the book, but in the movie an excuse for some animation when it grows to the size of the sea serpent advertised.  The book ends with the story of Woldercan (below), but the movie has a showdown with villain Clint Stark's henchmen that burns the tent.

Place Number 7: Woldercan

Woldercan was a city dominated by a vengeful god in Finney's Circus, and now, in the movie, destroyed by improbable cataclysms.  In both the movie and the book, Woldercan is shown as if unfolding outside as the rear of the tent rolls up, but in the movie the people of the city look like the people of Abalone, and they are led astray by a man who looks like Stark.  In the book they are threatened by starvation and flock to the temple, where a dispute over which virgin to sacrifice leads to the deaths of three people—not the whole city.  In the movie the story of Woldercan becomes the turning point in the Stark v. Abalone battle.


The author, courtesy of University of Arizona Special Collections

As I think of it, the movie was funny although not Finney, worth seeing for the performances of Randall and Barbara Eden (Angela), the jokes and pokes at westerns—oh, and don't forget the surrealism.  Go see this circus when it comes to town.

And now for a little catalog.  Finney put one at the end of his story, so I thought I'd put just a short one in:

Plots & bits interposed in Finney's tale:

  • romance of Angela & Ed
  • politics of Clint Stark v. Abalone, including meetings, printshop destruction
  • Lao's interruption of beating of George who is supposed to be a Navajo (Indians from Northern Arizona) played by a Lakota (Plains) Indian
  • inflation of sea monster
  • Lao's trick of lighting his thumb
  • Lao's trick of speaking any dialect, not just perfect English v. Chinee American stereotypical dialect.

Men-like creatures not in book:

  • abominable snowman (screenwriters' solution to the book's Russian v. bear problem)
  • Mike (Angela's son)
  • Clint Stark
  • cowboy muscle and snark
  • Merlin the magician (Apollonius was the magician in the book)
  • Ed Cunningham (Angela's honey and editor of the newspaper)

Woman-like creatures not in book:

  • Angela's mother-in-law

Ending as it began

As for Laozi (not pronounced LOWzee), he was last seen riding into the west, but in the 6th century BC that was on a water buffalo.  On the MGM lot in 1963 it was on a donkey, and in the direction of some cardboard saguaros.  Or, as the movie's Dr. Lao (pronounced LOW) would say, "Hello.  Goodbye.  Thank you."

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