You’d have never known it to look at her. There was talk at the Triple R Ranch, of course; the rumor was that if you were around when Annette had her bathing suit on, you might be lucky enough to see her secret passage. That was the game, anyway.
That’s right, Mouseketeers! Disney had made Annette a star, but it took Parker Brothers, the makers of Sorry! and Tell It To The Judge, to make searching for Annette’s Secret Passage a national pastime. Parker had included secret passages in previous games (Clue has two of them) but to make a young woman’s secret passage the sole focus for an entire board game was unprecedented in the 1950’s.
The game play has the ring of truth to it: first, you swim around the lake for a while (according to the rules, any number of players may occupy the lake at the same time). Then, you walk around the island. Once you’ve accomplished a complete trip around Shell Island, slip back gently into the water and wait. When it’s your turn, prepare to maneuver your piece towards Annette’s Secret Passage.
But beware! Already circling Annette’s secret passage are two vigorous, powerful, elongated, round-bodied fighters with long projecting swords. (Yellow Arrows were added to this illustration and do not appear on the original gameboard).
Worse, according to Wikipedia, is that swordfish happen to be one of the very few species with the ability to heat “selected body parts” above the temperature of the surrounding water. Thus, the question “Does Annette like swordfish?” takes on a whole new meaning in the game, which introduced many a young lad to the concept of “secret passages,” perhaps explaining why an original set in good condition commands thousands on eBay.
According to the instructions printed on Annette’s box, “Annette, Spin and Marty are on a cruise off the coast of California with Marty’s Grandmother. During the night Marty’s grandmother’s jewels were stolen! (Parker Brothers’ exclamation point). Annette thinks that whoever stole them must have escaped to the island. The next morning, with Captain Blaney’s permission, Annette, Spin and Marty decide to do some “skin diving” and “explore the island” (quotation marks mine).
A careful inspection of the entire game board reveals the entire story.
Disney knew that The Mickey Mouse Club wouldn’t last forever, and in the fall of ‘57 – around the same time the Studio was making money hand over fist from Annette’s Secret Passage – the studio announced two productions designed to carry the success of the Mouseketeers forward.
The first was a theatrical motion picture, “The Road To Oz,” featuring Annette as Ozma. Although considered a “sure thing,” the studio was curiously quiet about the project afterwards, ultimately announcing that the movie had been shelved.
The second production was a groundbreaking TV series to be based on Walt Disney’s Annette and the Mystery at Smugglers’ Cove, the Disney book that had been perched atop the Times Best Seller List for 38 consecutive weeks. The cover gives some of the plot away; Annette is sailing across Bodega Bay with a pair of lovebirds when a seagull swoops down and pecks at her forehead, drawing blood. This is the first of many inexplicable events Annette encounters as she arrives in, then tries to escape from, Smugglers’ Cove Island.
The pilot for the TV series was produced, but test audiences found it confusing and “disjointed,” something many viewers claimed Annette would have to physically have been in order to fit into the minuscule boat seen on the novel’s dust jacket.
The Disney studio would have to wait until it owned ABC Television in order to return to the project nearly five decades later, when it unexpectedly became a huge success. Alas, none of the footage from the original “Smugglers’ Cove” pilot still exists, and the episode is one of the ten “most sought after lost television shows” identified by the Library of Congress and something called The Paley Center for Media. All that survives is a single color still featuring Annette in her role as the upbeat, dancing castaway, Kate.
“Wow, this song reminds me so much of some other song, only I can’t think of what that other song is while this song is playing, but if I turn off this song, I’ll forget what the other one sounds like.”
Sometimes, it’s coincidence. One song just happens to sound like another. I refer you to the words of Mr. Andy Breckman, who wants this phrase on his tombstone: These Things Happen.
Sometimes, it’s carefully plotted strategy (Gary Puckett and the Union Gap always made sure that their next hit contained roughly the same notes in roughly the same order as their previous hit).
Sometimes, it’s an honest mistake. The late George Harrison didn’t consciously elevate He’s So Fine into the realm of the sacred as My Sweet Lord. (When Paul McCartney was convinced that he had stolen the melody of Yesterday unconsciously, he hummed the tune to dozens of friends who failed to identify it, leading Paul to eventually conclude that he did, in fact, write it in his sleep).
Sometimes, egregious thievery is involved. That’s the subject of this post, although some of these amazing sound-alikes may not have resulted from conscious lifts.
Why was Dutch group Shocking Blue a one-hit wonder? Maybe because they stole their hit song from The Big Three featuring Cass Elliot (before she became a Momma). Oh, and you’ll notice, in the opening notes, that Shocking Blue also “borrowed” Pete Townsend’s signature guitar riff from Pinball Wizard, released the previous year.
The song Shocking Blue wishes would disappear is Banjo Song by The Big Three (1963). (OK, The Big Three “borrowed” some lyrics from Stephen Foster, but still…)
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Another song: Ernie’s Tune by the Tony DeSimone Trio. The instantly recognizable song was actually titled Oriental Blues and is credited to Jack Newton. It accompanied some of the best comedy ever to appear on TV.
[2021 note: Don's original YouTube video has disappeared; this is another one of the same song.]
When you’re pledging to your local public radio station to support Melissa Block, you might want to send a couple of bucks to the poor devil (Randy Newman)who wrote Just One Smile by Dusty Springfield. (Wait for the chorus).
And in the picture above, Dusty Springfield looks strangely similar to Paula Poundstone in a blonde wig.
Those of you who have attended the taping or filming of a television show have been part of an “audience warm-up” before the show begins. No one questions the necessity for these “warm-ups,” since we’ve recently seen how pathetic things can get when an actor comes on without being preceded by a warm-up artiste.
David Letterman’s “warm-up man,” Eddie Brill, at left, performs the difficult task of warming up an audience truly in need of warming up… since The Ed Sullivan Theater is cooled to 50 degrees by two 120-ton Multistack Modular chillers by the time the audience is seated. Things warm up a bit when the stage lighting comes on, but the temperature at a Letterman taping never exceeds 60 degrees.
Warm-ups seek to build a base of excitement and enthusiasm by convincing the audience that they are, in a very real sense, performers on the program. In the words of the great Hank Kingsley, “… the better you are, the better Larry is.” This is exciting, isn’t it?
Blogger Connie Wilson wrote an interesting piece about Letterman’s pre-warm-up warm-up, delivered to her group as they waited to enter the theater:
“I’m going to say a punch line and I want you to laugh. The punch line is ‘Donald Trump’s hair.’” We all bellowed like idiots on cue. He said to try again, only louder this time…
…The young man continued, “Now, if Dave makes a joke, I want you to think, ‘Oh, boy, this is hilarious!’ Laugh in the theater; think about it on the way home. …We want you to really give back raw enthusiasm… Dave feeds on your energy…”
The better you are, the better Larry is.
What made me start thinking about audience warm-ups was the viewing of a great sketch by Peter Cook and Dudley Moore.
Most episodes of the team’s TV series Not Only… But Also are missing, believed “wiped” by the BBC. This sketch somehow survived, but for some reason did not make it into The Best Of What’s Left Of Not Only But Also. It’s interesting because the casting is counterintuitive – usually Peter Cook is the strong, take-charge character, but here, Dudley’s in charge… as both stage manager and warm-up man.
And, like all of their work, it’s very, very funny.
Monday at 6 pm, I’ll be at The Paley Centerfor Media (the renamedMuseum of Television and Radio) in NYC for a seminar/tribute to Bob and Ray (and Chris) hosted by Keith Olbermann and featuring a distinguished panel of Elliotts (Bob and Chris, whose novel The Shroud of the Thwacker is highly recommended).
I had the extremely good fortune to work with Bob and Ray on an industrial video taped at the old 23rd Street HBO studio, and in the run-up to the taping, I visited B&R in their office at the Greybar Building. I will never forget the sight: as you walked in, towards the back of the reception room was an open archway, beyond which was a wall jutting out perpendicularly which neatly bisected what had once been a single office. On the right side of the wall sat Bob, on the left side sat Ray, who could not see each other but could easily hear each other when speaking in a normal tone of voice. As the visitor, you saw both Bob and Ray; both Bob and Ray only saw you.
Butter ‘em on the far side and write if you get work.
I met a very interesting chap up at the Floratorium* by the name of Chris Wildman, who suggested that my online life would not be complete without a visit to the site of an English artist named Banksy.
Turns out he was right. Very clever; very conceptual. Some of Banksy’s art is pushing at the boundaries of good taste, but then, that’s what art is supposed to do, right? Here’s a link to a page on the site suitable for viewing by the whole family: Outdoor Work.
Disney fans may know Banksy from some ‘outdoor work’ he once did at Disneyland, placing an inflatable figure representing a Guantanamo detainee as an little extra added attraction for the riders of the Big Thunder Railroad attraction. That little prank is documented on Banksy’s site in a three-minute video on his films page. His works have also been on display at New York’s famed Metropolitan Museum of Art – don’t miss the hilarious video, also on the films page, that tells the story.
If you decide to snoop around elsewhere on the site, be forewarned that some images might not be appropriate for all ages and political persuasions.
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*What’s the Floratorium? It’s the hidden fortress where the collected original works of the great Jim Flora are stored. Original paintings and drawings, layouts for children’s books, catalogs and commercial work, incredible sketchbooks that reveal one mini-masterpiece after another, each time the page is turned. The picture below is nothing more nor less than what happened to be out on a table during a previous visit.
The Flora family is making limited edition prints available of a few of Flora’s finest works, and during my recent visit I was able to compare some of these new prints directly with the originals. The new prints are astonishing works of art in their own right, losing absolutely nothing in translation, thanks to the dedicated, painstaking work of Barb Economon, digital media specialist at The Walker Art Center in Minneapolis. Amazing and recommended.
…Now read the book! You’ve got to love these paperbacks. This one is tough, though, since it’s a translation from the French original.
“Look here!” said Gévigne. “I want you to keep an eye on my wife.” “The devil! …Running off the rails, is she?” “Not in the way you think.” “What’s the matter, then?” “It isn’t easy to explain… she’s queer. I’m worried about her.” “What are you afraid of, exactly?” Gévigne hesitated. He looked at Flavières…”
All right, I’ll try to remember that the Jimmy Stewart character has his accent mark pointed backward, and the Tom Helmore character has his pointing forward…
Wow, the movie’s in black and white, but the novelization is in color! It’s 1962, and novelist (novelizationist?) Irving Schulman is coming off one of his biggest novelization successes ever, West Side Story, which went through over twenty printings. It shows you how far some people will go to avoid reading Romeo and Juliet.
Intriguingly, the original short story upon which the film is based is titled The Notorious Tenant. I’m guessing that the movie-going public was more intrigued by a notorious Kim Novak than a notorious Jack Lemmon.
Well, no, maybe it’s just Hollywood tradition.
In Rupert Hughes’ story, the patent leather kid is the girl who dances her way into men’s hearts. When First National films the epic two-and-a-half hour silent movie, however, they make Richard Barthelmess the patent leather kid, which is not to say that as a result he dances his way into men’s hearts, but rather that the film script swaps the names of the two lead characters. The name of Curly Boyle, the boxer/soldier of the story, is given to Molly O’Day’s character in the film.
No wonder there’s a note on the dust jacket stating: “Be sure to read the introduction BEFORE YOU BEGIN.”
Wow, the movie’s in color, but the novel is in black and white!
The on-screen chemistry between Hayley Mills and Eli Wallach is electrifying. Why were they never teamed again?
OK, OK, calm down, take a deep breath, and I’ll explain.
No, George Pal never made a sequel to The Time Machine. He wanted to, and this is a novelization of his script. Read the novelization and you will know why the movie never got made. George (The Time Traveler) and Weena (The Eloi pin-up girl) are killed in the first four pages, during World War II, presumably to set the stage for an all-new, cheaper cast.
The cover of the Time Machine II is calculatedly confusing. They put a Malcolm McDowell look-alike in Pal’s time machine, presumably because McDowell had appeared as a time-traveling H.G. Wells in the film Time After Time (which Pal had nothing to do with) two years before this paperback original came out. Parenthetically, there have been lots of sequels written to the H.G. Wells novella. Stephen Baxter’s The Time Ships is probably the best read of the lot, but the prize for best title goes to The Man Who Loved Morlocks, by David Lake.
Danny Kaye gets into trouble by extending credit to people who are clearly unacceptable credit risks, thus predicting the sub-prime mortgage crisis by a full 45 years.
Um, if you’re going to put Frankie Avalon into a post-apocalyptic tale of survival… shouldn’t it have been On The Beach?
"Isn't Life Terrible" is a Charley Chase short from 1925. The title was derived from a 1924 D.W. Griffith film, "Isn't Life Wonderful?" Other Charley Chase film titles that ask questions are "What Price Goofy?" (1925), "Are Brunettes Safe?" (1927), and "Is Everybody Happy?" (1928). Chase abandoned his titles with question marks for titles with exclamation points during the sound era.
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You’d have never known it to look at her. There was talk at the Triple R Ranch, of course; the rumor was that if you were around when Annette had her bathing suit on, you might be lucky enough to see her secret passage. That was the game, anyway.
That’s right, Mouseketeers! Disney had made Annette a star, but it took Parker Brothers, the makers of Sorry! and Tell It To The Judge, to make searching for Annette’s Secret Passage a national pastime. Parker had included secret passages in previous games (Clue has two of them) but to make a young woman’s secret passage the sole focus for an entire board game was unprecedented in the 1950’s.
The game play has the ring of truth to it: first, you swim around the lake for a while (according to the rules, any number of players may occupy the lake at the same time). Then, you walk around the island. Once you’ve accomplished a complete trip around Shell Island, slip back gently into the water and wait. When it’s your turn, prepare to maneuver your piece towards Annette’s Secret Passage.
But beware! Already circling Annette’s secret passage are two vigorous, powerful, elongated, round-bodied fighters with long projecting swords. (Yellow Arrows were added to this illustration and do not appear on the original gameboard).
According to the instructions printed on Annette’s box, “Annette, Spin and Marty are on a cruise off the coast of California with Marty’s Grandmother. During the night Marty’s grandmother’s jewels were stolen! (Parker Brothers’ exclamation point). Annette thinks that whoever stole them must have escaped to the island. The next morning, with Captain Blaney’s permission, Annette, Spin and Marty decide to do some “skin diving” and “explore the island” (quotation marks mine).
The second production was a groundbreaking TV series to be based on Walt Disney’s Annette and the Mystery at Smugglers’ Cove, the Disney book that had been perched atop the Times Best Seller List for 38 consecutive weeks. The cover gives some of the plot away; Annette is sailing across Bodega Bay with a pair of lovebirds when a seagull swoops down and pecks at her forehead, drawing blood. This is the first of many inexplicable events Annette encounters as she arrives in, then tries to escape from, Smugglers’ Cove Island.
