Crum on Showbiz

By Steve Crum 

Don’t you love it in 1941’s great black and white Republic Pictures serial, The Adventures of Captain Marvel, when young Billy Batson says “Shazam!” and—in a cloud of smoke—changes into the tall, muscular Captain Marvel (Tom Tyler), complete with short cape and bulging biceps?! That was then. NOW is female actress Brie Larson in Captain Marvel, via wide screen color, minus the cape. In fact, her entire costume is day and night opposite the comparatively drab ’41 wardrobe. So is her persona, including her powers in obliterating the bad guys. 

Of the two versions, the original remains the classic. This 2019 take has flashier visuals, but so-so results. Comparing the two Captains encompasses 79 years of a hodgepodge of Captain Marvel makeovers in comic books, TV shows, and movies. Capsulizing Captain Marvel’s history, since Fawcett comic books created the character in 1939, is a daunting task. Bear with me.

The metamorphosis from Billy Batson/Captain Marvel to Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel covers a long list of legal suits, copyright intrusions, and Hollywood one-upmanship. Fawcett comics first had Captain Marvel, but DC Comics sued and won, claiming Superman had essentially been ripped off. In the late 1960s, Marvel Comics legally resuscitated the Captain Marvel trademark. Then the superhero underwent no less than seven incarnations, from the alien military officer Captain Mar-Vell, in 1967, to monikers like Monica Rambeau, Genis-Vell, Phyla-Well, Khn’nr, Noh-Varr, and finally…Carol Danvers. (And don’t even confuse this Danvers with DC’s Supergirl and her secret identity, Linda Danvers. We are talking the Marvel Universe here.) 

Cut to Larson’s Danvers in Captain Marvel, opening in theaters today, as she explores her meaning and purpose in life by way of codirectors Anna Boden and Ryhan Bleck—who also helped with the screenplay. This is Captain Marvel’s origin story, a sub-genre fans have come to expect thanks to the explosion of superhero movies during the last three decades. As such, Captain Marvel is the first Marvel-based superhero film to feature a woman as the single lead. 1984’s Supergirl holds that distinction for the DC Universe movies. 

In a synopsis nutshell, Carol Danvers is having nightmares due to her past as a U. S. Air Force fighter pilot and member of a secret unit called Kree. An accident has imbued her with superhuman strength, energy protection, and the ability to fly like Iron Man—but without need for any special suit. One of the problems with Captain Marvel is just that: the redundant flying sequences are staged more impressively in the Iron Man series. 

At this point in the comic book movie genre, comparisons are unavoidable. 

The fun of Captain Marvel is not so much Danvers/Marvel, but her pal Nick Fury, portrayed by the ubiquitous Samuel L. Jackson. He is encountered in a trip back in time to 1995, before he became the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. He’s just an agent now, along with his sidekick, Phil Coulson (Clark Gregg). Danvers is chasing bad guy shape-shifter Talos (Ben Mendelsohn), through a strip mall. (Blockbuster Video and Radio Shack stores are part of the nostalgic landscape.) Fury and his unit arrive on the scene after reports of violence. It is not long before Danvers dazzles Fury with her superpowers. When she and Fury eventually team, the movie sparks alive. 

As if the plot isn’t convoluted enough, there are additional characters Maria Rambeau (Lashana Lynch)—an old friend and fellow pilot; and Annette Bening as the Supreme Intelligence/Mar-Vell/Dr. Wendy Lawson. She is the collective intelligence of the greatest minds of the Krees, and ruler of their empire. Factor in Danvers’ mentor, Yon-Rogg (Jude Law), a good-bad guy that just might confuse you like he did me. In fact, most of Captain Marvel befuddled this casual fan of the Marvel Universe.

But I did love the inclusion of the the stray cat, Goose, adopted by Nick Fury. Cuteness aside, beware his puddy tat mouth and claws. Enough said.

Captain Marvel seems more apt to shine among a group like the Avengers, a point suggested at the conclusion of the end credits. Remain seated if that interests you.

=====

CAPTAIN MARVEL BITS: 

•Both Samuel L. Jackson and Clark Gregg appear 20+ years younger, believably so. The amazing transformation was done frame-by-frame, using computer digitalizing, great makeup, and wigs. 

•Do not confuse Captain Marvel with the 1970s kid show, Shazam! THAT one was based upon the original Fawcett Captain Marvel. Just to make things more bananas, the DC version of Shazam! will be released next month. 

=====

GRADE, Based upon A to F Scale: C+

By Steve Crum

MARION HARGROVE (1919-2003) was quite a writer, having first written the best selling book See Here, Private Hargrove in 1942, an oft times hilarious account of his experiences as an Army soldier during WWII. It was such a sensation that MGM produced a 1944 hit movie of the same title, based on Hargrove’s book. Robert Walker was cast as Hargrove. There was even a sequel, What Next, Corporal Hargrove?—also starring Walker—in 1945. (TCM frequently airs both movies.)

After the war, Marion Hargrove made a living writing feature stories for magazines, including a stint as Feature Editor of Argosy magazine. This branched out to writing scripts for movies (Cash McCall, The Music Man) and TV shows: The Restless Gun, The Waltons, Colt .45, The Magician, The Rounders, and the pilot episode of 77 Sunset Strip. 

Notable in his itinerary are the nine scripts he wrote for the classic TV comedy-western series, Maverick, starring James Garner as Bret Maverick. Most remembered is his script for “Gun-Shy,” a parody of the very popular TV western, Gunsmoke. Not only was Gunsmoke a CBS show, while Maverick was on ABC, but “Gun-Shy” lampooned the major characters and overall premise. This cross-network ribbing was unheard of then.

Instead of Marshal Matt Dillon, Hargrove renamed him Marshal Mort Dooley, making him a tall and not overly bright hero. Dillon’s deputy Chester Goode became Clyde Diefendorfer. Doc Adams morphed into Doc Stucke. (Incidentally, Chester’s last name on the radio version of Gunsmoke was Proudfoot.)

The plot involves Bret Maverick wandering into Elwood, Kansas (a Dodge City takeoff), and running afoul of the town marshal. Marion Hargrove even wrote in a reference to Richard Boone’s Paladin character from Have Gun Will Travel, another popular western series of that time. 

Maverick remains one of the best western series of all time, thanks in part to Marion Hargrove’s witty contributions.

NOTE: Following is a review I wrote several years ago for Amazon, praising a double-CD set containing a rarely heard 1941 concert for Greek Relief. The CD is still available on Amazon—and perhaps other sites, but it has been out of print for some time. It can be purchased through other Amazon merchants, and is a gotta-have for the definitive vintage show business aficionado.

=====

By Steve Crum

Deep in my heart the melody lingers, and the song never ends. That is why this marvelous double CD set produced by Brian Gari, Legends and Songwriters in Concert 1941, appeals to me. It will also connect with any lover of the American popular song.

The 45 tracks represent a spectrum of song hits beginning in the teens of the 1900s. As the title suggests, this is a concert–a rarely heard concert even in its time. Taken from what was thought to be lost discs, the Feb. 25, 1941 Greek Relief Fund evening features not only the songs, but the composers. (Many died within a few years of this recording.) Some sing their own creations (always a joy, even when they cannot sustain all the notes), and some accompany other singers via a piano or play solo piano.

The war in Europe was festering. Pearl Harbor was only months away. So this precious two hours and 20 minutes
recording exists as a history bookmark–an extremely entertaining one. There are patriotic songs (Tony Martin belts out a very mean and stirring “God Bless America” at the conclusion–nearly equaling Kate Smith’s final note); and there are references to the Greek resistance effort against the Axis in a special lyric that Bob Hope sings via “Thanks for the Memory.”

Performed at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles and broadcast on radio only to West Coast listeners, this extravaganza includes some of the great entertainers of all time. There is Jack Benny (playing his theme song “Love in Bloom” on the violin–a complete version played straight and gorgeously); a young Judy Garland (singing “Over the Rainbow” with its composer Harold Arlen on piano and David Rose conducting the orchestra–to a thunderous ovation); composer Hoagy Carmichael singing what many still consider the greatest pop song ever written, “Star Dust”; and Eddie Cantor, CD producer Brian Gari’s grandfather, singing his immortal “Makin’ Whoopee” as songsmith Walter Donaldson accompanies him on piano.

This is one honey of a CD set. The live performance includes numerous fluffs, including Dinah Shore having to restart “South American Way” several times, and Bob Hope coming back for curtain calls twice, even though he is told on air that the show is running late. Sound quality is monaural, no surprise, and there are a few clicks and scratches due to the condition of the original discs. But such imperfections are minor. 

On with the plus factors:

*”St. Louis Blues”–performed by the composer, W.C. Handy, on trumpet. 

*”Smoke Gets in Your Eyes”–Jerome Kern plays the piano, backed by full orchestra. (The orchestra, conducted by either David Rose or Alfred Newman, assists most of the artists.)

*”Lover, Come Back to Me”–played by Sigmund Romberg, the composer, along with a medley of his hits. 

*”Indian Love Call”–Rudolf Friml on piano. 

*”You Made Me Love You”–played and sung by its soulful and warbly-voiced creator, Jimmy Monaco. 

*”My Heart Belongs to Daddy”–Mary Martin sings her signature song with writer Cole Porter on piano.

*”My Buddy”–Remember the wonderful Frances Langford? She sings a wrenching version as composer Walter
Donaldson accompanies.

Perhaps the surprise of the show opens the program. Albert Von Tilzer might be a forgotten song writer, but he sings his own all-time hit that will always be remembered: “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” Wait until you hear its seldom sung verse.

Pardon me as I listen again.

=====

Epilogue: At the time of this concert, David Rose was married to Martha Raye. They divorced on May 19, 1941. Two months later, July 28, he married Judy Garland. They divorced in 1944. This was the first of five marriages for Garland. 

By Steve Crum 

The great Broadway impresario Florenz Ziegfeld (1867-1932) poses with a bevy of his gorgeous and talented showgirls aka “Ziegfeld Girls” in 1931. His Ziegfeld extravaganzas packed in New York City theatre goers from 1907-31. 

Rumors persist that “Ziggy” personally “interviewed” each and every young lady who auditioned for his chorus lines. Call it the “Ziegfeld Scandals.” Call it the “Ziegfeld Casting Couch.” That includes the 1914-32 years Ziggy was married to Billie Burke. If her name does not ring the proverbial bell, her most famous role undoubtedly will. Billie portrayed Glinda the Good Witch of the South in The Wizard of Oz (1939). 

By Steve Crum 

There is a silent, 8mm home movie of me as a toddler in 1952, wearing a specially made double holster with silver studs and fancy cap guns, patterned after Hopalong Cassidy’s six-shooters. My Grandpa Axtell was a western fan, and paid to have the holster constructed. That holster lasted for several years, until I ran out of belt holes as my body grew up and out. 

I was still wearing it when the photo here was taken of me on Grandpa’s horse. 

From the moment I could barely walk, I was exposed to black and white TV westerns—like virtually every other kid in the country. Cowboy heroes dominated the tube from the late 1940s (the dawn of TV) through the ‘60s. Reruns of William Boyd’s 66 Hoppy movies produced in the 1930s and ‘40s made Boyd and his Hopalong character THE biggest stars of early TV. He was the man who dressed in black, rode a white horse (Topper), and sported a silver-studded, double holster. Boyd then starred in half hour episodes made for the new medium. Gene Autry and Roy Rogers joined Boyd with their own made-for-TV series. Their old movies were also rerun. “The western march had just begun,” as television’s Davy Crockett theme said in 1955. Autry’s production company also gave us new western heroes like Annie Oakley, The Range Rider, and even Champion (Gene’s horse). 

Movie theaters downtown and at drive-ins were western crazy too, with the likes of John Wayne, Randolph Scott, and James Stewart. All my neighborhood’s boys emulated their cowboy heroes as we spent summers playing cowboys vs Indians, and good cowboys vs bad cowboys. Toy cap guns, sold in every dime store, were essential. And nearly every hit TV western hero was merchandized, taking the cue from William Boyd. Carrying a cast iron and plastic toy gun loaded with a roll of caps was the norm. There were The Rifleman’s rifle, Wanted Dead or Alive’s “mare’s leg” sawed-off rifle, The Lone Ranger’s pistol, Wyatt Earp’s long-barreled Buntline Special, and dozens more. At the western genre’s peak in popularity during 1959, there were no less than 30 western series broadcast each week. Twelve years later, the cowboy craze had nearly disappeared into the sunset.

MILITARY FANTASIES

Heroics were not exclusive to cowboys. John Wayne portrayed both a cowboy and a military hero (particularly Army and Marines) in his most popular movies. While I never dressed up like a soldier to play military battles, I did fantasize about the heroism of soldiers during WWII. Among my collected comic books were Sgt. Rock’s Our Army at War. The machine guns and tanks were particularly thrilling. 

The back page of most comic books was nearly always an advertisement for magic tricks, selling greeting cards, or buying one’s own set of fighting soldiers. I bit on one of the latter ads, after saving my allowance for over a month to buy a “foot locker” packed with soldiers holding their rifles and pistols. When I finally received the package, I discovered the foot locker was about the size of a Cracker Jack box, and the soldiers were tiny, flat-sided, brittle plastic things that kind of resembled soldiers. Standing them upright was a challenge. G. I. Joe dolls were prevalent around this time, as well as Aurora plastic model kits of military tanks, cannons, armed soldiers, etc. Some of my pals had them, but I did not. There were even plastic toy hand grenades that required a “stick ‘em” cap to be inserted, and would sound with a bang upon landing.

Adding to my military exposure were a couple of popular newspaper comic strips, Terry and the Pirates and Steve Canyon, both created and inked by Milton Caniff. 

THE VIETNAM WAR AND THE MASS MEDIA

Hollywood’s connection to The Vietnam War was unlike its role during WWII, when the studios were dedicated to winning the war via producing anti-Nazi and anti-Japanese films. The propagandizing was effective, and no doubt helped us win the war. Even Bugs Bunny and Popeye cartoons had such propaganda themes. 

By the time I was drafted to serve in the Army in 1970, The Vietnam War was somewhat winding down. The only Hollywood film clearly supporting our involvement in the war was The Green Berets (produced two years earlier), named after the hit song, “The Ballad of the Green Berets,” sung by Barry Sadler. However, some took 1970’s Patton as pro-war, even though it was WWII based. In many ways, the film was also anti-war. I supported the latter position—before, during, and after my two year tenure. 

A note in passing: I loved Patton, but abhorred and laughed out loud at The Green Berets. I saw them both while an Army Specialist. 

=====

During my Basic Training at Ft. Leonard Wood, I heard many references by drill sergeants to John Wayne: “John Wayne would throw a grenade like this,” and “John Wayne would never do that.” During my next duty stop, at Ft. Polk, I discovered John Wayne war movies were shown daily, and free of charge, at the fort’s Tiger Land movie theater. WWII propaganda had segued into the Vietnam era. 

REAL GUNS/TOY GUNS

Outside of my time in the Army, the only rifle I had ever fired was during the late 1950s when my father loaned me a 4-10 and took me hunting for quail. Both times, I never shot anything. I really had no desire to do so. But being with Dad was special. It happened so rarely. 

=====

For decades, the only gun I have in the house is a Red Ryder BB Rifle of “you’ll shoot your eye out” fame. It remains unfired and BB-less since a friend gave it to me 20 years ago. 

The spent-powder smell of a cap gun still lingers in my sensory memories, but that was then and this is now. The romanticism of being a cowboy remains a happy escape, and I still love the old flicks on DVD. 

=====

Did I forget to mention my United States Army medal for M16 rifle qualifying? I am a Sharpshooter. Go figure. 

=====

You should find this piece about toy guns interesting: