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Gerald Howard

2 years ago

in Bada Bye on newcritics
" . . . there was no real or satisfying way to end The Sopranos" ??? Excuse me? That's like whatever contractor is doing the roadwork saying "There is no real of satisfying way to finish renovating the Gowanus Expressway." That is what writers are PAID FOR. That is their ARTISIC RESPONSIBILITY. Closure and catharsis are built in expectations of Western dramatic culture, and for David Chase to deny his audience those essentials was, as New York magazine accurately points out, an act of sadism. But then, this is the man who created Livia Soprano, so there is no surprise that the guy feels his audience's love as a burden to be scorned rather that a gift to be cherished. Poor you, said in the Nancy Marchand Manner.

2 years ago

in Blondie’s Children: The Best Domestic Sitcoms on newcritics
Theme song lyrics recited from memory: "There's a holdup in the Bronx!/Brooklyn's broken out in fights!/There's a traffic jam in Harlem/that's backed up to Jackson Heights!/There's a scout troop short a child!/Kruschev's due at Idlewild!/ Car 54, where are you?"

A minority enthusiasm, I admit it, but "Car 54, Where Are You" was, in its brief two-year stint from 1961 through 1963, a breath of goofy fresh air and by far the most popular televison show among the young miscreants of St. Anselm's grammar school. It was essentially "Sgt. Bilko" transplanted to a Bronx precinct house, and its two lovably bumbling principals, rubber-faced Joe E. "Ooh! Ooh!" Ross as Officer Gunther Toody and hound dog visaged Fred Gwynne (a Harvard man, the Lampoon and everything!) as Officer
Francis Muldoon, stamped their respective roles with almost archetypal authority. Also fondly remembered is Al Lewis in the role of Leo Schnauser, who made Toody and Muldoon Look like Lee marvin in "M Squad." My father was himself a New York city cop and somehow he didn't quite take the same delight that his son did in the
municipal bumbling of these lovable nimrods. It's a pleasure to recall time when we could still affectionately send up the centurions in our midst. Now all the television cops strike self-important poses and stare out at us from billboards with the sternest of
expressions. What a burden all that moral superiority must be to carry around.
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