It feels like early on in our lives, every one of us is convinced to cast aside a piece of ourselves. Whether that something is as big as a sexual preference or as seemingly insignificant as a favorite color. Here's my journey to taking those pieces back.
Episode 10 is a cobbled together, cut and paste mess. Having guest stars Jane Powell and Ray Bolger should have made for a great show, but instead it's amongst the worst of the series.
One of the things I wish they would have dropped from the show completely the "Be My Guest" segment. Once again, a guest star comes out and ribs Judy about some mistake she'd made in her past, and once again it doesn't play well. Plus, there's this odd mixture of ad-libbing and scripted material that throws off the rhythms and makes everyone, especially Judy as the driver of the segment, look like they don't know quite what they are doing. The sketch didn't quite know if it wanted to be loose and casual or tight and quickly paced. As a result it isn't much of anything. And the transitions! They're so awkward, and having to make them look natural and organic is a near impossibility, which Judy doesn't achieve, and yet, who could?
Another reason I'm not so fond of the show is that Judy looks the least prepared that she has on any of the episodes show so far. There's lots of manic energy and hand wringing galore as she looks every minute like she's about to go up on a line, and pulls through about a half a second late. It's an obviously "unsettled" Garland on episode 10.
There's this strange phenomena amongst Garland fans. There's an urge to protect her that's stronger than with most. We don't want anyone to think ill of her, and are so tired of the same old untruths about her that we, or I guess I should speak only for myself, I cringe every time I see her looking unprepared because it's just more fodder for the ignorant, who will of course jump to the conclusion that she's drunk. Well, 95% of the time she's not. But that 5% has a real impact on some, and the myths and legends surrounding it have an even greater impact.
Jerry Van Dyke had just been fired, and this would be his last episode on the show. Garland was pretty upset by it (incidentally, at the same time she was campaigning to get Schlatter reinstated as Producer of the show) and in her few moments with him you can see even more affection than usual, as the two of them know this will be it. Bill Hobin would soon leave the show as director, citing creative differences with Hunt Stromberg, Jr and Norman Jewison. The production team was dividing up into sides, tensions were high, and it all had quite an impact on Garland, who started showing up late to rehearsals more often than not. Garland was the type who soaked up the emotions of her environment, and the emotions now on the set were filled with tension.
Adding to the lack of cohesion is what seems like a mini-concert plunked down in the middle of the show, and appears to have been filmed weeks apart from the rest of the show due to the very different hairstyles and costuming. After Judy sings a few numbers there's an abrupt cut and Judy returns in the same hairstyle and dress she'd been wearing before.
The numbers themselves are pretty weak. Ray Bolger sings a medley of songs in a so-called rehearsal room full of empty chairs with instruments seated upon them, and he spends his entire number talking to these inanimate instruments, much as Clint Eastwood would later do at the Republican convention. He sings, badly, every possible song with a woman's name in it. The only enjoyable moments are when he dances.
Judy sings "One For My Baby" as a throw away number in the middle of a comedic sketch, and I would have loved to hear her do it seriously. Not just without all the interruptions, but with an approach that treated it as a dramatic monologue, something at which Garland excelled.
Judy, Ray and Jane sing "The Jitterbug", and it's difficult to watch. Not just because it's overtly "cute", but there's something disconcerting about watching two middle aged women in teenaged bobby-soxer outfits.
On the upside? It's nice to see Judy and Ray together remembering the filming of The Wizard of Oz, even with an awkward moment in which Ray mentions the first edition of Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven" that he had given her. He seems pretty proud of it and she seems to have completely forgotten about it.
There is one segment that is always a joy to watch. No matter what else happens in the show, good or bad, as the credits roll Judy dances and cavorts, claps for the audience, shakes hands with her fans, and generally makes magic as only she can. It never disappoints.
The arrangements are incredible. The best of the series so far. There's Barbra's "Down With Love", Judy's "Just In Time" which modulates all over the place (and would be even more improved when reprised in a later episode with an alternate tag ending) Judy and Barbra's marathon "Hooray For Love" Medley, and of course there is the famous duet arrangement of Garland's "Get Happy" and Streisand's "Happy Days Are Here Again". It's been getting a lot of play lately, was performed on "Glee", and was featured in the most recent Pink Martini album Get Happy, but the first version is the best, and it was all Garland's idea.
The Smothers Brothers are the first comedic guests from the series that remain funny to this day. While the other comedy acts had been pure cornball and could expect, at best to be considered mildly amusing today (I'm talking to you Dick Shawn) the Smothers Brothers are so off-beat and natural. The sensibility of their humor is still very "current" and their act seems to fly by.
The pairing of Garland and Streisand is history in the making. Judy had brought family and friends to catch Barbra's act and was so taken with her that she convinced the execs to rearrange the shooting schedule to Barbra so could be a guest. More than anything, Judy was very generous to talent, and she was exceptionally good to Streisand. She convinced her agents to take Streisand on as a client (though they may not have needed much coaxing) and throughout the show you can see how much she gives to her when performing. Streisand on her part is a little less giving, a little more reserved, but I don't think it's selfishness, just youth. She was only nineteen after all, and still mastering the some of the "finesse" she would have later. I highly recommend the chapter devoted to this episode in "Rainbow's End" as it perfectly captures the shared spirit of admiration, the perplexed attitudes of many in the old guard of showbiz who didn't get what all the hubbub was about when it came to Streisand, and hints that the Diva in Streisand, when it came to matters like what kind of tea she wanted to drink during breaks and pitching a bit of a fit when her guest spot was slightly shortened, may have been there, even at that early age.
Old "Steamroller Merm", as I like to call her, makes a "surprise" appearance and completely takes over. The moment she takes the stage she overwhelms everyone with volume and sheer gusto. She even commands the conversation and takes every opportunity to steer the it back to her. When the three of them sing together, Ethel's aim is obvious: steal focus. Garland gives the whole number over to Ethel preferring to be her cheerleader than compete, and when she notices that Barbra's getting a bit bowled over as she somewhat gamely tries to sing along, she pulls Streisand into the group, making her a bigger part of it. PS: I suggest watching the number a few times and focusing on a different performer each time. It's fascinating, and hilarious, as some of Barbra's slightly bemused expressions are priceless.
Jerry Van Dyke is on the show for one of his last episodes, still playing the part of "World's Number One Asshole". If they'd have just let him continue with his sweet bumbler, and let him have a hand in concocting some of the material himself, he might have made a true contribution. If only they could have dropped the bullshit about knocking Judy off her so called pedestal. It continues in this episode and extends to the show itself in a bit in which Jerry claims the show is too expensive and so starts making budget cuts. The audience doesn't need those little seeds of negativity planted in their head that would make them think the show is doing any less than spectacularly.
Incidentally the first reviews for the Garland show came out during this week would target this very aspect of the show as an awful idea, deriding the writers, with one critic threatening to punch the next person who referred to Garland as a "little old lady". Aside from that they were overwhelmingly positive, if not for the show itself, then for Garland. She'd always been the critic's darling and this was no exception. Good on you, critics.
This episode was selected by the executives at CBS as the premiere episode. I suppose, having fired Schlatter they couldn't allow one of his episodes to start the series off, because if people liked it and deemed it better than some of the latter episodes then the CBS Execs would have to eat a lot of crow.
This episode was due to start with the overture taken from the Mickey Rooney episode, but instead started with our favorite dancers singing a take-off on "Call Her Irresponsible", which is supposed to culminate in Judy's entrance...and she is no where to be seen. She eventually appears and goes into an introductory number. Now, Judy had somewhat impishly performed this song to CBS Executives and affiliates for a gathering and it had been a hit. Yet, there's a big difference between a person making fun of themselves, and others making fun of them. It set a bad tone to start the show that way. And Jerry is again forced to speak some insulting dialogue to Judy which does make people feel confident that she will be able to carry this venture off. It's a very peculiar way to sell a performer. Stupid CBS listening to poll takers and changing the show up before the first episodes had even aired. Have some confidence in your product, ass wipes.
Garland sings "Fly Me To The Moon" in this gorgeous wooded set with beautiful flowered trees. It's a gorgeous set-up and yet her pipes aren't quite back up to full capacity. It's another peculiar move on CBS' part to open the series with an episode in which Garland's vocal quality is not up to peak. It doesn't make sense.
Mostly, my complaints with this episode are repeats from last weeks episode. The material they're highlighting in the duets is subpar, the special material is forgettable, the whole show is just unremarkable, and there are a couple of false starts and flubbed lines (one by Garland and couple by O'Connor) that should have been a good enough reason to do another take. I just don't get it.
Highlights? Judy has a laugh out loud moment in which she and O'Connor are spoofing Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy and she takes a moment to play and jokingly flirt with the camera.
And, in spite of the fact that I don't really love clowns (I'm not one of those people afraid of them, I just don't care for them) the second highlight is a simply charming number that Jerry and Judy and Donald join in together.
When I was in my teens I found a used copy of The Other Side of the Rainbow: With Judy Garland on the Dawn Patrol by Mel Torme. Yes, that guy...the jazz singer. You see, way back when The Judy Garland Show was in pre-production, the producer, George Schlatter, lured him onto the program to be musical director and arranger and to borrow a phrase from an old song, Torme "didn't wanna do it. He didn't wanna dooooo it."
Help select music for another performer? Coach her? Conduct her off-camera for those moments when she can't quite hear the orchestra? To stabd in the wings and give support? To a WOMAN? Mel Torme was a lot of things, one of those being a tremendously talented crooner. He was also a bit of a chauvinist, and an egotist supreme (I ordered one of these at Taco Bell a couple nights ago, and it was pretty tasty) who knew? He understandably wanted to work on his own career, not someone else's, and he only relented when he heard he would get two on-screen guest spots in the first thirteen episodes (incidentally he was always bickering about these spots, how much time he got, was cranky when he had to share the guest spot with others, blah blah blah) with more to come later. Undoubtedly he was a bit bitter at having to play second fiddle to another singer, and his tell-all memoir about his experience on the show, published soon after Judy's death, seems like a way for him to have the last word. In the book he skewered Garland, placed the show's demise largely on her shoulders, and alternately bitches about her and his estranged wife, whom he condescendingly nicknames "Snow White".
Now I'm not trying to say that he was COMPLETELY inaccurate (although much of his story was, and many of the points he makes would later be refuted as "untruths" by other crew members). After all, Garland was a tempestuous woman. Nervous, lonely, insecure. The reference to the "dawn patrol" in the book's title references the fact that some members of the production team would receive late night calls from Garland who was keyed up after a night's work and needed companionship. No, I'm not saying Garland was flawless. I'm just saying the book has an agenda, and it served as a way for Torme to be the star of the show's story in a way that he hadn't been in life. Unfortunately, after a backlash from the Hollywood community against Torme, the book became the only source for info on the shows troubles, and it's story went largely unchecked until the late eighties when Coyne Steven Sanders wrote the book that is now considered the definitive version of the making of the television show: Rainbow's End.
It's extremely readable, balanced, and doesn't overlook Garland's flaws. It does however, put her occasional outburst into context with the craziness that was around her, the power grabs, the firings, the revamping...it's all in there. Sanders is quoted as saying he was looking to expose the truth, no matter how ugly, and he was pleasantly surprised to finish his research and interviews with a deeper respect for Garland's work ethic, kindness, and talent (this did not happen when he dug into the life of Lucille Ball for a similar project, FYI). Anytime I have a question about the facts of the making of the Garland series, it is the first place I go for answers.
Well, all this is taking the long way to tell you that episode 2 of the Garland show featured Count Basie, and Mel Torme as guests, and the show gets off to a pretty dreamy start. Judy enters a quiet set which is made to resemble a rehearsal hall in which the musicians are warming up...
It's a moment that I love because it allows Judy to swing it a little in a very "cool" arrangement. Judy was never what you could call a jazz singer (although like everyone else who has an eye on the neighbor's backyard, she wanted to have her try at it) but it is great when she's allowed to escape her sentimental show biz numbers for something a little sultrier.
The problems with the show are not with Judy, or Basie, but with everything else. As much as I've grown to have a fond distaste for Mel Torme, I have to say, his vocal stylings are impeccable and a treat to listen to. Watching him sing is another thing altogether. He's like the nerd in school who hung around with the cool kids (you know "Sammy, Frankie, Dean") and was determined to be just like them. He aped their moves in the mirror, dressed like them, convinced himself he WAS them, but nobody on the playground ever really bought it. That's Mr. Torme. He's so smarmy and schmoozy, and that swagger of his is just repellent.
Also on the list of things that bring down this episode is Jerry Van Dyke, or at least the material he's working with. He was brought on to the show as Judy's comedic second banana, but they never quite figured out what to do with him. Personally, I've always thought critics were too hard on him as his presence is very sweet natured, naïve and bumbling and his bombastic energy is a nice contrast to Garland's. And yes, the bits are trite, but he didn't write them, nor was he happy with them. In fact, much as he loved working with Garland, he was very unhappy with his role in the show, especially when the writers came up with the idea of his poking fun at Judy to de-glamorize her and make her more approachable to the audience.
Other things I don't love in this episode? Well there's this pretty unfortunate musical number in which folk singer Judy Henske teams up with Mel Torme and Jerry Van Dyke to sing "Walk Right In". The harmonies are way off and Henske hits some notes that cause pretty hysterical reactions from Jerry. Another thing I'm not a huge fan of in the show?
This hat...
While we're at it, I didn't love the dance in which these hats were featured either. It's such a confusing melee. Garland gets lost in it, seems unsure of herself through much of the routine, and they style seems ill fitted to her.
A moment that definitely DOES work is when Judy is singing in the Trunk spot at the end of the show and flubs a line during the song, turning it into a delightful win. The minds behind the scenes had gotten the idea to start taping dress rehearsals of the show so they would have two versions of numbers to choose from, and then they could slip the better version in. Well, in this case they chose to use the dress rehearsal, and I can't blame them. She's so animated and energetic, like a mischievous little sequined elf who, incidentally, can sing the shit out of a song.
One final note. Does anyone else notice that Judy seems to be wearing the same outfit through the entire show? Sure she changes from skirt to pants, but everything else seems exactly the same. Am I the only one bothered by this? WTF Aghayan?
This episode was the first one taped for the series, and I have to say it's pretty wonderful. The look is dramatic, glamorous, glossy and glitzy (all those "g" words I love)...Judy looks and sounds wonderful and aside from some clunky comedic bits which were typical of sixties tv variety shows, it's a perfect way to illustrate what a viewer could look forward to in the season ahead. If you care to watch along with me and can get ahold of a DVD of the show, the Pioneer set has loads of outtakes and deleted numbers removed and replaced due to the later change in the ordering of the episode. ALSO, it's important to note that this show was rehearsed and taped like a theatrical production. It was finished taping in less than 90 minutes, and Judy required no second takes on any of it. It's a very different way of doing things from the over-produced, over "tweaked" and stilted shows of the same variety that are made today.
The show begins with Judy's conductor and right hand man Mort Lindsey leading an overture of her numbers that would build to her entrance, much as had been done in her concerts. The overture of a singer's hits is pretty standard fare today, and one that Judy pioneered. In fact, it's pretty amazing how many things we think of as standard concert tropes were originated or made famous first by Garland. When Judy finally arrives she makes an incredible entrance and looks stunning in this ultra -sophisticated pantsuit gown combo that was very in fashion in the late-fifties early sixties. She looks so fresh, comfortable, in control... it only makes me wish the show had been taped in color, because Judy's color palette really made up so much of her "look" and enhanced her beauty. This licorice black hair, deep red lips and porcelain skin, that rich sophisticated "drawl" of a speaking voice. She sings "I Feel A Song Coming On" (one of the few pre-recorded numbers of the series) with special lyrics introducing Mickey Rooney
Then we unfortunately fade out and fade in to...Mickey Rooney. I've always had rather ambiguous feelings about Mickey Rooney. While I loved him in the early Andy Hardy films, in his musicals with Judy like Babes on Broadway and Girl Crazy, let's just say I tried to keep my eyes focused on her side of the screen. He's always been a bit too forceful, too hammy for my taste. "He really insists upon himself" as my friend Meg would say. His philosophy of performance seemed to be "why say anything when you can shout it, while doing a handstand, balancing plates on your feet, and speaking in a bad Gable imitation. He's the Jim Carrey/Martin Short of his day, and it ain't my cup o tea.
For his solo spot on the show he is seated on a large staircase as he sings this falsely "sincere" medley of songs glorifying the American girl, and having the much married Rooney singing that when he's not near the girl he loves he loves the girl he's with? It has a humor that I'm not quite sure was intended. Thank god he finally drops the winsome pose, but he segues into a schmaltzy bit in which he impersonates Jimmy Durante and Maurice Chevalier. At the end of the number, as he sings "Thank Heaven For Little Girls" he's flanked by two little girls which would seem really creepy if you didn't know they were his daughters. For the record, this is exactly the kind of corny number I would usually fast-forward through, but it's worth watching once, even if it's only to see Mickey's bizarre combed forward hair-do.
From that number we move to one of my favorite from the series. Ever. The stairs that Mickey had been singing on rotate on this wonderful turn-table, doing it's job long before "Les Miz" became synonymous with the word in a theatrical context, and Judy strolls out from the darkness and just lays out the most brilliant, structured performance of a real "sock-o" number that shows what a master she is at building a song. She's the Queen of audience mind control. And you'll notice how carefully she selects which moments to play to the camera directly, when she plays to the studio audience, and when she seems to be singing for herself. To paraphrase, Judy expert John Fricke, she has a way of making the relatively cold mediums of television and film seem so warm. She communicates across forty years as if it's a cinch. Truly stunning.
Next Judy and Mickey have a really sweet interaction where they reminisce over old times and look back at old photos of themselves back when they were "in pictures" together. While the impact is less momentous and thrilling than it would have had back then (the much publicized reunion of a beloved team that hadn't been seen together on-screen in fifteen years, in a time before you could push a button and bring up virtually any image or film clip) the dialogue is off the cuff, and sincere, and their affection for each other is blatantly obvious. Mickey is so gentle and considerate to Judy that he completely redeems himself from his sub-par singing, and Judy she is equally loving toward him, doing her old trick of kicking off her Ferragamo heels when they dance, so they are roughly the same height. And as they perform side by side you get a glimpse at two performers with very different styles. Mickey looks straight at the camera, faces it dead on through most of the song, glancing at Judy ocassionally, while she makes it all about him. She leans in to him, sings for him and to him, reacting to every moment he gives her. This is something that she would do time and time again through the episodes. She would constantly defer to her guest, make sure that they got spot lighted in their duets, give them the full focus, and she would give them a lot of the better material in the duets. After awhile, Mickey shows off his comedic chops by reviving one of his most clever routines that he'd performed with Judy in personal appearances and on film in Girl Crazy: the Goofy Golfer, and he's really quite charming in it.
The second half of the show is largely devoted to a sketch that probably played better in it's day, and seems a bit stumbly and tongue in cheek for it's own good. It was obviously rehearsed, but it's too loosely scripted and most of the comedic moments fall flat as a result, aside from a wonderful moment when Mickey mocks his own penchant for hamming it up, showing again how wonderfully funny he can be.
The final moment of the show worth remembering is from Judy's "Born in a Trunk" segment. At the end of each show, Judy would stand alone on her "runway" with a large stage trunk, and sing one or two final numbers to close the evening. The number Judy chose for the opening episode, "Old Man River", was not conventional, and not often performed by women, and the CBS executives hated it. They wanted something nostalgic and familiar like "Over The Rainbow" or "The Trolley Song", but Judy insisted on pushing boundaries, and doing things her way. She would take a lot of input and let other people make a lot of decisions, but when it came to musical selections, she was of the firm opinion that she knew what was right for her. The performance proves her right, and is one of the highlights of the series...
All in all, a pretty great show that displays a relaxed, healthy looking and sophisticated Garland and it's really a shame that this wasn't the first episode aired, as I think it would have payed so much better than the hokey countrified episode that was the official premier with guest star Donald O'Connor. While that episode actually beat the unbeatable competition "Bonanza" (a color program when color tv was a true novelty and the event television of it's day- God knows why they put Garland in such a tough time slot) one thinks the show might have fared a lot better later on if the audiences had been shown this first.
A couple of final comments on Garland's look. I love her gowns in this episode. They were (with the exception of the one in the opening number) designed by Edith Head who was fired due to disagreements with George Schlatter, the director. He didn't like her approach to the costumes, nor did he like her demeanor, and so she was replaced by Ray Aghayan who had a much more high fashion look in mind. It's very stylized, very sixties, and yet, while it's definitely the minority opinion...I prefer Head's conception. As for the hairstyling, it's surprising what a difference a "do" makes. As the season went on, Garland would go from a relaxed and tousled look to a Dairy Queen "dip cone" look.
To me, it's constricting, and artificial, more architecture than hair. In fact, I would have preferred her to have her hair a little longer than she does altogether, because, while I know that a forty-something year old women at that time was considered much older than we would consider one now, a more youthful hairstyle would have been lovely on her.
Ok, one LAST clip! After the credits rolled on the show, someone left the cameras rolling and Judy and Mickey were captured as they say their thanks to the studio audience. It's a special treat that really captures how they felt about each other. Enjoy...
