Well, dear readers, when I was a wee sprig of a twig of a tad of a lad of a youth I loved a lot of female singers, but I was much pickier about the male singers I liked. One of the ones I adored early on was Perry Como. Then there was Johnny Mathis. I’d also like Ricky Nelson, whose Poor Little Fool was a special favorite. But going into the 1960s there were three male singers that I thought were tops. There was Steve Lawrence and, a little later, Jack Jones – but the best of them was a man named Andy Williams. From the very first time I heard him sing Moon River I knew he was my kind of singer. No histrionics – just a gorgeous voice singing simply with conviction and an understanding of the lyric. I’d first heard him some years before when he was recording for Cadence – I think the song was Canadian Sunset, but I hadn’t really taken notice. But on Columbia Records he found the right arrangers and the right sound and there was nobody like him. Every time a new record came out I got it the day of release, whether it was an LP or if a song came out first on a 45. His vocal on Days of Wine and Roses was, for me, one of the most perfect vocals I’d ever heard, and it remains so today. And the great song, Can’t Get Used to Losing You was one of my favorite Andy Williams performances. Later, when he had his television show, I found him to be charming and funny and personable and I just loved hearing him sing almost anything. They don’t make them like Andy Williams anymore. Now we get riffing and wailing and American Idol crap – no one has a clew as to what they’re singing about and it’s all about grandstanding and showing off. I can guarantee you that at an Andy Williams concert there was no screaming and woo-hooing, but there was loud, appreciative applause, respect and admiration for a real crooner, in the best sense of the word. His voice was warm, embracing, and it was like you were listening to a friend. I never met Mr. Williams, although I did see him on the NBC lot once, carrying some clothes to whatever show he was going to tape. I wish I’d gotten up to Branson to see him perform – I was told he was great right up to the end. My friend John Boswell played for him and had nothing but wonderful things to say. From what I’ve been told he was a man of great charm, humor, and kindness – and that’s what his records would seem to verify. Mr. Williams passed away yesterday – he lived a long and wonderful life and I’m sure he’ll be singing Moon River wherever he is and it will light up the jernt.
Yesterday was a weird but pleasant day. The telephonic device rang at eight twenty-seven, eight-thirty, nine-thirty and again at eleven. The first three times I ignored it and was back asleep immediately each time. I took the eleven o’clock call although it was completely trivial. I got up, had a flurry of e-mails, then a long telephonic conversation of almost an hour. I’d already decided that since it was Yom Kippur that I’d fast as long as I could stand it. So, I just did things on the computer, then did some errands and whatnot, some banking, and I picked up one package. Then Juliana came over and we had our rehearsal, which went smoothly. I gave her just a handful of little notes. Then I printed out the scripts for tomorrow, made two CD back-ups of the tracks we’re shooting to, had several more telephonic conversations and then finally went out for something to eat, after putting gas in the motor car. I went to the Studio Café and had their chopped salad with balsamic vinaigrette and a small thing of very good mac-and-cheese. That was my meal for the day – no bread, no dessert. Then I came back home and sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom on Blu and Ray. I saw it when it first came out – I thought the opening number, Anything Goes, was great and I knew I was in for a terrific time. After ten minutes I began to have the sinking feeling that the terrific time was never going to arrive, and that proved entirely accurate. Instead, we got a relentless, loud, obnoxious film with humor that fell flat, action sequences that went on and on and on to no purpose, and some surprisingly gross moments. The romantic interest played by Kate Capshaw was grating and irritating, and the little boy, Short Round, was cute but also really irritating. Mr. Ford was his usual excellent self, but everything that worked about Raiders of the Lost Ark, fell flat in the Temple of Doom. In the first film, everything made sense, it was fun, it kept you on the edge of your seat, and it was a thrill ride in the best sense of the word. Instead of Lawrence Kasdan providing the script, instead we got Willard and Gloria Huyck, who delivered truly bad writing in spades. I’d only seen the film once after that, when the DVD set came out, and I liked it a bit better, but not much. On Blu-ray, I liked it less than ever. The opening musical number is still great and it makes me think that some fine day Mr. Spielberg should just direct a screen musical. But as soon as that’s done, it’s just loud and annoying from there to the end. The transfer is nowhere near as good as the Raiders transfer, but it’s certainly acceptable. Sound is very robust and gave my speakers a little workout.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I really must get a good night’s beauty sleep because tomorrow will be non-stop from morning till evening and points in between.
Today, I shall be up by eight, I’ll shave and shower, and then be on my way to some place called Eagle Rock to shoot the Euan Morton set-up scene for his Outside The Box episode. We all arrive at ten, will set up, then shoot till we’re done – it really shouldn’t take more than an hour. Then we reconvene at my home environment at two, set up there, and Mr. Hal Linden and daughter Nora arrive at three to shoot the set-up scene for his episode. We should be through within ninety minutes and then Mr. Linden can be on his merry way to the Pasadena Playhouse to do his show. After we wrap, we have to dump sound and video onto a mini-hard drive. Then we have a Juliana rehearsal at six and we should be done with that by seven-thirty and then I go directly to the rehearsal hall to see how Kay Cole has staged the two ensemble numbers.
Tomorrow, once again I’ll be up at eight and then to our shooting location by nine. We’ll set up there and hopefully begin filming right at ten. We have three hours to do three easy musical numbers, each about a minute long. Then we take a thirty-minute break and then we do the first number of the next episode, an ensemble number. At the end of that, Mr. Linden arrives and we add him in to the very last shot of that number. Then we shoot his number, which is a little complicated, but he should be out within ninety minutes, and then we have the final number, which isn’t difficult at all. We should wrap by five and then we once again have to dump sound and video to the hard drive. The evening is mine all mine. Saturday, we have our final rehearsal at one with a small number of people attending. Then the rest of Saturday and Saturday night is mine all mine. Sunday is sound check and show, then Monday we dive right into the first Kritzerland rehearsal.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, shoot one set-up scene, then another set-up scene, then rehearse, then attend a rehearsal and at some point try to eat something. Today’s topic of discussion: What were your favorite Andy Williams songs? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland to the strains of The Days of Wine and Roses.