Summer of Love

It was the summer of love. Or to paraphrase Peter Fonda in The Limey: “The 1960s was really 1966 and the first couple of months of 1967.” My memory recalls that time as the golden era of television. Star Trek, The Time Tunnel, That Girl, The Andy Griffith Show - all religiously observed by your humble scribe on their original broadcast dates.
Only watching several new releases of complete season series on DVD I now realize that the recollections of a child are far more forgiving than the serious movie viewing habits of an adult.
On November 17, 1966 the first part of the two-part Star Trek episode The Menagerie ran. That was a Thursday night. The second ep would run the following Thursday night, which was also Thanksgiving Day.
As is usual on such a holiday Aunts and relatives visit, break bread and get to decide what to watch on television. My cousins Butch, Andrea, and Buzzy were older and Buzzy in particular had it in mind to watch The CBS Movie of the Week. Regardless of the coolness of that film being the Ray Harryhausen effects-laden Jason and the Argonauts, Buzzy got his wish and that movie was seen in the Bergeron household at 8 o'clock. You know what's coming next.
Star Trek aired at 7:30 and that means I had to miss the last half-hour, the conclusion of the two-parter, and forever wonder how it ended.
As you are no doubt aware, The Menagerie was composed of scenes from the original Star Trek pilot, which starred Jeffrey Hunter and also featured Leonard Nimoy as Spock (the episode won a Hugo award). We see scenes of the pilot as flashbacks interspersed with the current cast. The Menagerie also co-stared Susan Oliver (The Monitors) a forgotten actress who graced several 60s era projects.
In November of 1966, reruns didn't start until, bare minimum, May of the following year. There was no way I could suspend my sense of discombobulation at having to find new ways to remember television shows. Perhaps it was at that moment I realized that in some far-flung future there would be a way of accessing any television show ever made at your own discretion. And thus this month’s review of a cornucopia of DVD releases of classic television shows.

The Time Tunnel – Although this Irwin Allen produced sci-fier that launched in 1966 only lasted one season it spawned 30 episodes, available in two DVD sets (eps. 1-15 & 16-30). This series was for years my favorite show. Imagine the shock at watching TT for the first time in 40 years. Open-mouthed stupefaction best describes fond memories giving way to hammy acting and ridiculous situations. The two scientists (James Darren, Robert Colbert) float in time from the Titanic to the Alamo to the French Revolution to Krakatoa, yet each show has them begin anew in fresh clothing (one of the effects of time travel?). Darren in particular is always trying to tell people that they are in danger: “Captain, I can’t explain how, but this ship is going to sink.” This show is literally so bad it is good; it’s practically golden. Some amazing performances grace the goofy hi-jinx at Operation Tic Toc: including a dual role played by Carroll O’Conner, as well as early appearances by thesps like Robert Duvall and Ellen Burstyn (billed as Ellen McRae). The Sci-Fi Channel has tried to revive this show, but stick with the original for its unparalleled take on history.
That Girl (Season One) – On five discs, the complete 30 episodes from the 1966 season are all about Marlo Thomas dressed fabulously as a New York model. How does she afford that Manhattan apartment and where does she get all those clothes? Don’t ask questions like that when discussing a television show. Despite the show’s corny plots and characters it lasted five seasons and Thomas’ bang haircut and penchant for mod dresses are still being imitated today. It’s no secret that Marlo’s father Danny Thomas was a heavyweight in 50s and 60s television production. Thomas also established the St. Jude Hospital for Children’s Research after praying to the patron saint of the hopeless for career guidance.
The Andy Griffith Show (The Complete Sixth Season) – This was the year that Andy went to color and Barney Fife was replaced by Deputy Warren Ferguson (Jack Burns from the comic duo of Burns and Schreiber). Andy goes to Hollywood in a story that arcs over several episodes; Don Knotts makes two guest cameos; and Ron Howard practices good citizenship like getting a job to pay for repairs on his bike. Of course he is a kid so it’s no surprise that Opie also hides a walkie-talkie in a dog’s collar to convince Goober that the animal can talk. Andy Griffith lost something as the series wore on, and despite the fact that Jack Nicholson guest stars in two episodes from season’s seven and eight, many consider the sixth season a sort of swan song for Mayberry. Truly endearing or perhaps downright damning is the show’s small town skewed vision of the era. For instance, Aunt Bee and her friend Clara write a song (“A Singer in Town”) and it gets picked up by a famous rockabilly singer who wants to perform it on television complete with electric guitars and go-go dancers. Aunt Bee throws a shitfit and refuses to allow them to perform the song unless it is sung as a sensitive ballad. Television held a plastic mirror up to reality then as it does now.
The Best of The Electric Company – This four disc box set showcases 20 episodes from what could be best described as a teen version of Sesame Street. Covering the show from 1971 through 1977, the eps are loaded with psychedelic video effects and double entendre. All in the name of education. More to the point are the regulars, including Morgan Freeman (as young as you’re ever going to see him) and a free spirit actress currently residing in the where-are-they-now-file Judy Graubert.
Dr. Katz, Professional Therapist (Season One) – Just to show we’re not lost in nostalgia we recommend this set with all six episodes from the 1995 debut season on Comedy Central. Animated with Squigglevision (things appear wavy), Dr. Katz reminds one of a more cynical version of the psychiatrist played by Bob Newhart. Divorced, Katz lives with his loser mid-20s son who refuses to get a job, while treating a variety of outwardly neurotic clients (voiced by stand-ups like Dave Attell, Wendy Liebman, and Ray Romano).
All-American Girl (The Complete Series) – Margaret Cho plays an updated version of the kind of single girl spawned by Marlo Thomas in the 60s. It’s definitely the only time you will see a PG Cho. Margaret Kim (Cho) lives half in the world of 90s coolness with the other half acceding to her parent’s ethnic ideals (dating Korean doctors and staying in college wile living at home). The show lasted one season on ABC (1994-95) and all 18 episodes are included as well as four with Cho commentary. Of special interest: A Night at the Oprah, which has not only Oprah Winfrey but also Jack (Nacho) Black as a rocker who wants Margaret to manage his band. The season’s penultimate ep was Pulp Sitcom, a half-hour take-off of Pulp Fiction that features Quentin Tarantino positively beaming in the kitsch he has created.