It’s been a while since Dan Grobstein has appeared here[1], but he has returned  with a fantastic heads up, for Fireheads such as myself and many of you. Not Insane! by Andrew Katzenstein, described by the New York Review as about “The Firesign Theatre, a comedy group formed in the 1960s, created surreal albums that mixed satire and science fiction, and inspired a generation of misfits.” Well, yes. Myself included.

[1] 380 times from 2005-2013, so often he had his own heading, Dan Grobstein File

Feb. 15, 1999

By the way, I’m an old-school guy, who believes you say a lot about yourself by the film you identify as your favorite. For years, I went with the trite (and Pauline Kael) and said Citizen Kane. Now, Citizen Kane is a very good film. But a few years back I sat down and asked myself, “What film has brought me more consistent entertainment than any other I have seen in recent years? If it’s a comedy, is it chock-full of real laughs that last? If it is a drama, does it move me?” And the answer was: Groundhog Day with Bill Murray and Andie McDowell. If you haven’t seen it, rent it (or buy it) and watch it. If you have seen it before, see it again. It is a comic masterpiece. I laugh out loud every time I see it [Also true of GalaxyQuest and Airplane!]

Feb. 14, 2000

My Favorite Movie, Redux

With Groundhog Day just behind us and Valentine’s Day just ahead, it is time to continue a Valentine’s Day tradition of this column and remind everyone to go out and rent my personal favorite film of all time, the romantic comedy Groundhog Day, starring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell.

I picked this film a few years back, when I got tired of aping Pauline Kael by always saying that Citizen Kane was the best movie of all time. I approached the process with trepidation and careful thought. I think the answer to the question “What is your favorite movie” says a lot about you, both obvious and unobvious.

After I’d made my choice and started to broadcast it, one of my friends (or, perhaps, one of my children) asked if I was saying that I identified with a man who was doing the same things, wrong, over and over. Actually, no. The part of the film I identify with is the part where Murray changes.

In fact, one of the things I love about this film is the fact that it never overplays anything. Harold Ramis said once in an interview that he’d filmed a scene where Murray (Phil Connors), the “hero” of the film, walks past a classroom during a discussion of time and develops a theory about the time loop he’s trapped in. Ramis wisely cut the scene. Who cares why? Nor does Ramis burden the film with any exposition whatsoever on the rules of the time loop: he just shows them to us. Finally, no one tells Murray how to get out.

The climactic moment of the film, when Murray stops wasting the endless loop and starts taking advantage of it, is like a buried lead in a newspaper story. He is teaching MacDowell to throw cards in a hat and says living the same day over and over is a curse. She tells him it doesn’t have to be. And that’s it; that’s the exact moment when he changes, even if he does go to sleep with her next to him and awaken the next day to Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You Babe.”

The film won a British Academy Award and a London Critics Circle award for Ramis and Danny Rubin, who dreamed up the story and co-wrote the screenplay. The film was nominated for a Hugo (the science fiction award) and Bill Murray was up for, but didn’t win, an MTV award for the film. Danny Rubin, obviously a genius, wrote just one film before and one film after and has no credits since 1994. Well, better one hit than none.

He now teaches at the College of Santa Fe. Previously, he taught screenwriting at the University of Illinois in Chicago, Columbia College and the National High School Institute. He worked for many years in professional theater companies, industrial films, and children’s television.

Here’s what Bill Murray says about the script in a Mr. Showbiz interview.

That script by that kid, Danny Rubin – the quality was unbelievable. His script, if you walked in the door, was a masterpiece. If any script I ever did should have won an Oscar, it was that one. It didn’t even get noticed! It was because it was early. It came out at the beginning of the year, and by the time the awards came, it was forgotten.

And just once, he was struck by lightning and created one of the cleverest movie ideas ever.

For more information on the film, check out IMDB.

Here is Dan Grobstein’s Feb. 2002 report on the new “enhanced” DVD of “Groundhog Day”.

It has a cute animated menu, more (languages) subtitles and a short feature about the movie with interviews with Harold Ramis, Trevor Howard, Andie MacDowell and Danny Rubin, and a director’s commentary with Harold Ramis.

No deleted scenes. Ramis doesn’t have very much to say in his commentary. There are a lot of dead spots where he is just watching the movie or commenting on how much he likes certain lines. I’ve noticed that commentaries made for DVDs when they are first released are much better than re-releases. I guess the movie is more fresh in the director’s mind.

The bed and breakfast is a private house and the owners were very happy to cooperate with the movie. The hotel was a courthouse. The jail cell is next door in a jail converted into a restaurant in which you eat in a cell. The German restaurant is in Chicago. The coffee shop was created for the movie and the town tried to keep it running afterwards, but it failed. Phil’s room was a set in a warehouse. Stephen Tobolowsky gave a great audition and they hired him on the spot. Andie MacDowell asked Ramis if she could use her South Carolina accent in the film and he said yes. The scene in the doctor’s office was shot at 2:30 a.m. on a two-wall set. The actor who plays the psychiatrist is from Second City and does a lot of voice overs and has done McDonald’s ads and was the recorded narration on a Lake Michigan tour that Ramis took.

Danny Rubin envisioned that Phil would relive the day for 10,000 years. In the original script he kept track of time by reading one page each day in the bed and breakfast’s library. The opening scene was shot later when they realized that they needed a better introduction to explain Phil. The cop on the highway was revoiced. Ramis’ cousin and wife, former babysitter, his lawyer and the producer’s wife all appear in the background. The Lloyd’s store in the background of the Ned Ryerson scenes tried to sue for $100,000 in lost business. Ramis hopes that the audience realizes that the piano music in the coffee shop comes from the radio on the shelf. Bill Murray ad libbed some of his lines (surprise!). Rita orders sweet vermouth on the rocks because it is Ramis’ wife’s favorite drink. Bill Murray learned enough piano to do the scenes at the piano teacher’s. Rubin’s original script started in the middle. Ramis told him that was his favorite part of the script and then that was the first thing he changed when he rewrote it.

Ramis kept the Armani overcoat that Phil wears in the film. The scene at Gobbler’s Knob that has Phil telling Rita and Larry about a better camera angle was left over from a cut scene where the groundhog escapes and Phil knows where he will go. They also cut a scene showing Phil playing the piano better before the party. Also a scene where he trashes his room. They weren’t able to line things up to go back to normal. The town of Woodstock, IL has plaques around town showing where scenes from the movie were shot. They used Woodstock because it has a central square. Punxatawney does the ceremony outside of town in a nature preserve. The ceremony used to be related to a groundhog hunt. The gazebo was already there. They built a replica of the Punxatawney platform for the movie. The guy who holds the groundhog is the guy who supplied it for the movie. The groundhog bit Bill Murray through the glove right after the scene where he lets him drive. The party was originally supposed to be a wedding. Members of a lot of different religious groups told Ramis that he had their philosophy exactly right and that he must be a member of their group.

Nothing about the use of the same music as “Somewhere in Time.”

He doesn’t say, but I think that Phil’s comment to Rita “Be the hat” comes from his own life. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t spend 4 or 5 months throwing cards into a hat.

Dan Grobstein, a long-time friend and long-time contributor, checks in:

 Turn Every Page – The Adventures of Robert Caro and Robert Gottlieb this Sunday at 92nd St Y followed by a discussion with Caro and the two Gottliebs. Opens in NY and LA 12/30. A fascinating look at the writing and editing process and the interactions between them.

Sometimes, I admit, I miss having an editor. Probably my loyal readers would agree.

I was pleased when I noticed that I have contributions this week from both Daniel “Don’t call me Dan” Dern and Dan Grobstein, both of whom I have known for a half-century and both of whom have been regular contributors to PSACOT since its rebirth 22 years ago.

Daniel Dern is an MIT classmate who once edited Thursday, a newspaper that competed with The Tech. Dan Grobstein is the brother of my first fiancé’ Sherry.

I Lost On Jeopardy, Baby
A generous text summary of my appearance on Jeopardy from S.M. Oliva’s blog devoted to The Computer Chronicles.
…
Podcast Tips
It’s been a while since I heard from Dan Grobstein, who recommends podcasts: Rachel Maddow Presents: Ultra, Countdown with Keith Olberman, and, from London, Full Disclosure With James O'Brien
…
Twain Quotes
I think sometimes about accidental release of my “hold for release” obituary. As a quote hound (here and here), I looked for Twain’s “Reports of my death are greatly exaggerated,” after release of his pre-written obit. Found this: Twain Quote site.

(While researching what I’d written about being a diversity admit to MIT, I ran across this item from July 18, 2005, which I thought was worth repeating. And, I might add, Dilbert and Doonesbury’s daughter are both MIT grads as well))

I was watching the Fantastic Four when I realized that Reed Richards, Susan Storm and Victor Von Doom are all depicted as MIT graduates. Earlier in the week, Dan Grobstein had sent me to a page on the Internet about "who's Jewish." I think I shall start such a page with regard to MIT (although Wikipedia has an excellent start on this subject). Here are my first few entries; please feel free to submit yours, and I'll print them in the column and eventually post a separate page.

MIT Faculty and Students in fiction

Crichton, Michael. State of Fear. Richard John Kenner, a scientist who heads the fictional MIT Center for Risk Analysis.

Good Will Hunting (1997 ) Will Hunting (Matt Damon) and Professor Gerald Lambeau (played by Stellan Skarsgård)

Heinlein, Robert. Have Space Suit, Will Travel. Kip Russell is admitted to MIT at the end of the novel (I believe this may be why I applied to MIT)

Sherry, Dan Murphy, Harrison and Alan Alan at the organ, Paul at the mic

Harrison at the Mic

Listen

You can listen to the four episodes of the Eugene Oregon Show by clicking these links:

http://schindler.org/eugene/Eugene_Oregon_1.mp3

http://schindler.org/eugene/Eugene_Oregon_2.mp3

http://schindler.org/eugene/Eugene_Oregon_3.mp3

http://schindler.org/eugene/Eugene_Oregon_4.mp3

Download

It might be more convenient to download them as a podcast. Paste this link into your podcast app under add a new podcast by URL

http://www.schindler.org/eugene/eugene.xml

Credits:

Eugene Oregon: Paul Schindler

Announcer: Harrison Klein

Other Parts: Alan Baumgardner, Dan Murphy

Special Thorn in the Works: Sherry Grobstein

Musical Director/Organist: Alan Baumgardner

Engineers: Paul Green, Jeff Rubin, John “Sassy John Ten Thumbs” Sasse

Written, Produced and Directed by Gene S. Paul Jr. (Paul Schindler)

The audience appears courtesy of a major error (they thought they were somewhere else)

How It Came About

During my freshman year of 1970-1971, I wrote a number of radio sketches for my friend and fellow resident at MIT Student House, Michael Wildermuth, also known as Captain Zomarr. In the summer of 1971 I wrote four sketch shows for a WTBS series we had agreed to call The Twilight Dome. When I arrived in the fall of 1971, Mike was too busy to perform them. So, I decided to perform them myself.

————-

My recollection of taping day

We’ll start with the show, the last major thing I did for WTBS in terms of original production.

Harry Klein, Alan Baumgardner and Jeff Rubin, the only other people at the station who had ever written comedy besides myself, agreed with me we could do the shows. We would tape them in a lecture hall, 9-150, before a live audience which would be attracted by ads in The Tech, which I could get cut rate.

Michael Fiertag, in February, 1972, wrote a much better description of that taping than I ever could. Anyway, we had technical problems. Alan was only prepared with the theme, not the incidental music, and the three of them, famed as script doctors, did not spend enough time punching up my weak jokes.

The funniest line, in my opinion:

Anncr (Harry Klein): Hubba Hubba Gene, that’s some suit. What is it, seersucker?

Eugene Oregon (me): Yes, Harry, I got it for $300 at Sears.

We had a lot more trouble getting through it, and it seemed much funnier to us that it did to either the audience of 10 (in a hall that seated 450) or the audience at home (minimal I am sure).

They way I got the name was funny. Two weeks before airtime, and we had no name for the show. So Harry locked himself in the technical department closet and shouted names for effect. “The Gene Paul Show.” No, Didn’t have the right ring Neither did “The Paul Schindler Show” or the “Paul St. John Show.” Suddenly, he said, “What’s your middle name again, Eugene? And you’re from Oregon. And there’s a city named Eugene, Oregon,” and he shouted, “The New Eugene Oregon Show,” and a star was born.

Anyway, those four shows, taped in a single afternoon, meant a lot to me, even if they meant very little to anyone else. Naturally, I was sure later they could have been done better, like funnier, with a larger audience, with Sherry actually holding the applause and laugh signs when she should have. The whole audience, by the way, was The Tech friends and WTBS friends. Which was good, because we got started late and would have driven an audience out with the lack of humor.

Harry, Alan and Jeff had brought along a Boston Cream Pie which they intended to throw in my face during the taping of the fourth show. I was wearing an ill-fitting white suit that Sherry had made for me for Christmas (making men’s suits is not something best left to amateurs, which is too bad because I always wanted a white suit). But whether it was that or the indignity that got to her, I will never know. But she sat on the pie while I stood there, blindfolded on the radio, sort of expecting what was coming. I was surprised when they took the blindfold off and nothing happened.

“That wasn’t very funny,” I said to myself. “The three of them must be slipping.” After the taping, I found out what Sherry had done and got a little aggravated. We cut all that tape out of the show because it was so boring. I wish now I had saved it. They gave her the pie for a souvenir. We saved it for months in the freezer, but the box was broken so it went bad and we never ate it as we had planned to.

———

The Tech

Feb. 8, 1972

Uncredited Author: Michael Fiertag

[See Original Text at the bottom of this page]

In which we “cover” a WTBS live taping…

We’ve been amused of late to see unsigned pieces appearing in Tech Talk written in the narrative style and utilizing the editorial “we” of the New Yorker. These efforts -we understand to be the work of Peter Spackman, a technical writer whose usual literary output consists of the excellently composed, really magnificently printed Reports on Research which the Institute sends to the MIT Associates and to participants in the Industrial Liaison Program. The New Yorker -imitations are meeting with much enthusiasm among MIT’s hired writers we’re told, and even Director of News Services Robert Byers is thinking of trying his hand at one – anonymously, of course.

Looking at the latest New Yorker imitation in last week’s Tech Talk, it seemed to us that it would be so much fun to write that way, and so easy, too, that we started looking around for some event to “cover,” as journalists say. At first, we thought of running into Spackman in an aesthetically pleasing way, and asking him a few questions, but while we were pacing up and down Massachusetts Ave. last Saturday, debating with ourselves, the feasibility of such a thing, we noticed that the door to Building Nine, which would normally be locked over the weekend, was propped open by a brown naugahyde half of what might be a container for a reel of recording tape.

Picking up the doorstop, we discovered the letters “WTBS” stenciled in white paint on its side, and we decided to investigate within. Our search for a New Yorker imitation was rewarded in room 9-150, a moderately large, well-appointed lecture hall with plush blue seats in sharply rising rows. On the stage area, a number of young men were setting up two boom microphones, while another played fitfully upon an electric organ.

At a table off to the side, an audio engineer was earnestly experimenting with what we guessed were volume levels. We introduced ourselves to a stout, hirsute young man wearing a black shirt, black socks and shoes, and a white acetate tie and white suit with bell-bottomed trousers, who was to be the real star of the show, “Eugene Oregon,” although his real name was Paul Schindler.

We began by asking him, while the engineer in the corner of the stage cried “You’re back-feeding!” to one person or another, what “live taping” meant. “Live taping,” Paul said, “means that whatever happens, the tape will roll.” Paul supplied us with the names of the other participants in the taping. Alan Baumgardner would be organist and would supply a number of falsetto voices as need arose. Harry Klein, who was pacing behind a podium, would be the announcer. The engineer’s name was Jeff Rubin. At the other side of the stage from the engineer’s table sat a young woman in jeans and -a sweat shirt with “MIT Stud House” lettered upon it in white: Paul’s fiancée, Sherry Grobstein. She held a number of signs upon which appeared the words, “Laugh,” Clap,” “Clap a Lot,” or “Hiss,” one of which she would hold up on occasion during the upcoming taping.

It was by now 2:30. Some five or six persons had appeared, and would comprise the audience. While Harry practiced openings (“Hello, hello friends, and welcome to the Eugene Oregon Show – hey, that’s not bad!”), Paul briefed the audience. “Clapping for radio is a fine art,” Paul said. “There’s a way to clap that makes it sound as if there are twice as many people in the audience. You just clap twice as fast.” He suggested that the audience practice clapping, and Sherri held up the sign that said “Clap a Lot.”

Then Paul said that the audience should practice laughing. “For small jokes we want a small laugh. Every third joke is a big joke.”

“Are you ready?” Paul asked Alan at the organ, who rolled a glissando off to his right and said that he was. Suddenly two more persons appeared in the room., swelling the audience’s size to ten. “Ten! Alan! What’d I tell you,” Harry said. Paul completed his instructions to the audience: “He’ll say, ‘The New Eugene Oregon Show!’ You’ll keep clapping until I calm you down.” Alan was experimenting with the organ. A chord swelled from an AR-4x monitor speaker, and Alan announced: “That’s gonna be as loud as the organ’s gonna get.”

‘”A little lower,” said Jeff from the engineering console. Harry, at his announcer’s podium, put on a blue, double-breasted pin stripe jacket, and suggested a rehearsal of at least the show’s opening. The others agreed, so Harry began. His opening was drowned out by the enthusiasm of the audience upon the mention of the name of the show, and Harry remained inaudible to us (although Jeff could probably manipulate his levels so that the tape would be alright) until he came to the introduction of Eugene Oregon himself. Paul allowed the applause to continue briefly, an embarrassed smile playing across his face, until, glancing at his fiancée, he noticed that she had held the “Laugh” sign aloft. The rehearsal ended. Harry promised to speak louder. From the engineering console, Jeff announced that all was ready. The signal from “Radio City” would travel over “program lines” to the WTBS studio, where, for protection, the sounds would. be placed on tape on both of the studio’s venerable Ampex tape recorders, Alpha and Beta. For a moment, everyone was quiet. Then Harry cried: “The Eugene Oregon Show – take one.” “They’re small,” mumbled Paul, and the live taping began.

I have collected a lot of string since last I posted. In July, when the shape of the future was dimmer, I received this email from my friend John Ruley. I guess I am violating Godwin’s law, but it does provide some historical perspective:

On your Brexit Correction – according to William Shirer, in Rise and Fall of the Third Reich (Chapters 6 and 7), Hitler was first appointed as chancellor after the Nazis failed to win a clear majority in the 1932 elections – but after he became chancellor, in what Shirer calls "the last relatively free election Germany was to have" – received 44% of the total vote, which while not a majority far outpaced that of competing parties. Hitler formed a coalition with the nationalist party, and that gave him the majority he needed to pass the "enabling laws" that gave him absolute power, among other things outlawing all other political parties, including his erstwhile nationalist allies. So, while Hitler was not personally brought to power in a free election, he in fact gained power legally – as he often said – as a result of free elections. Strange, but true!

 Long-time reader Stephen Coquet (one of the few who came to this column organically, rather than through pre-existing friendship with me) suggested this article about Hillary’s email server, back when it still might have done some good if placed before a wider readership. I feel like I let our side down. He also sent me this article from the Guardian about Baltimore police surveillance, and added,

The key statement is, “Police spokesperson TJ Smith insisted that the privately funded agreement between Persistent Surveillance Systems and city police 'was not a secret surveillance program.' " They just thought better if they didn’t tell anyone.

Dan Grobstein mentioned something I had vaguely heard about: A hip, cuddly and cunningly sadistic musical adaptation of the 1993 Bill Murray movie has opened in London. It is scheduled for the August Wilson Theatre on Broadway starting on April 17, 2017 Dan also passed along Ang Lee Is Embracing a Faster Film Format. Can Theaters Keep Up? There are exactly two U.S. theaters showing Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk at 120 fps; one is the Cinerama Dome in LA, where I plan to see it soon. The other is in New York City. Dan also tipped me to the race to preserve old celluloid. 

 Kevin Sullivan has a book tip:

Looking at your book list, I was reminded by your love of film that I recently enjoyed reading – a) "Adventures in the Screen Trade" by William Goldman, and then for fun, the actual book by him of "The Princess Bride". Both were informative and enjoyable.

This from my friend and former colleague Jerry Pournelle (the article is behind the paywall)

Dan Grobstein shared this touching tweet with me:

He also shared this New York Times story, with accompanying comment:

Editorial says Kosovo has "an education system that does not encourage critical thinking." “Saudi Arabia has spent heavily to promote the radical form of Islam that inspired 9/11 and now inflames the Islamic State. Tiny Kosovo is a victim.”

Is part of the problem causing young people to believe the radical teachings.

I'm just wondering how much teaching to the test in this country hurts critical thinking. You're a former teacher. Any comments?

Yes, I do have comments. Well, just one really. We don’t teach anywhere near enough critical thinking. In fact, we teach too much obedience to authority. It is, I fear, a residue from the days when the purpose of school was to create a docile workforce for the new factories that were springing up.

Daniel Dern passes along an article by a West Wing actress who ended up in Washington for real.

I was reading a book of interviews and discovered that Mel Brooks decided to leave out a punchline in his amazingly funny film, Blazing Saddles. No one who saw the film and likes it can forget the scene where Lilly, in a dark room with the African-American sheriff, says “Is it true what they say about you people? It’s true, it’s true.” Brooks told an interviewer the next line was, “I hate to disillusion you ma’m, but you are sucking on my arm.” I thought that was pretty funny, but Brooks apparently thought it was a joke too far.

Also, if you want to see how really crap your odds are of winning the lottery, try this Powerball Simulator. And, “Lyin Ted Cruz.” A college buddy of mine passed this along: “This is very well done.  The teens are all pretty smart but just flabbergasted by computing technology from 20 years ago.”

This from Dan Grobstein: How to Read The News. Also: How Santa Claus Ended Up on U.S. Military’s Radar

Daniel Dern checks in: I'm surprised they didn't subtitle this cartoon, "If Apple used the Microsoft Word approach to adding every possible feature that users ask for…"

Joe Brancatelli notes: “Check this video. It's the return (seriously) of Basil Fawlty as John Cleese and updates one of the great moments from the "Gourmet Night" episode of Fawlty Towers. Yes, it's a commercial, but a loving homage. Enjoy because you won't see it on American TV.