“The Maze” (1953) Starring Richard Carlson, Veronica Hurst, Katherine Emery and Michael Pate. Directed by William Cameron Menzies. From Allied Artists Pictures.
I stumbled on this film quite by accident. A random search for “classic horror films” of a certain length yielded “The Maze” so I checked it out. I was pleasantly surprised. And I wasn’t.
Gerald MacTeam, a Scotsman, is traveling through Europe with his fiancee, Kitty (Hurst) and her Aunt Edith (Emery) and some friends. He suddenly gets word that his uncle, a baronet, has died and Gerald has inherited his title and Craven Castle, the family estate in the Scottish highlands. Gerald leaves his party of traveling companions to deal with this family business promising Kitty he’ll be in touch soon. Weeks go by before Kitty hears from Gerald and the news is not good. Kitty is abruptly informed by telegram that Gerald cannot possibly marry her. She is to go on with her life and forget about him. Kitty, of course, is concerned by Gerald’s uncharacteristic tone and decides to go to Craven Castle, with Aunt Edith in tow, to investigate.
The two women are shocked at what they find at the castle. Gerald seems to have aged ten years and he is obviously tortured by something. Also at the castle they find two sullen servants who are devoted to Gerald and very stern and unwelcoming. Finally they find that the backyard of the castle is one giant hedge maze. Gerald insists the women leave at once but Kitty won’t hear of it. She and her aunt stay the night. They are informed that there are rules of the castle that stipulate they avoid the maze at all costs, refrain from wandering through the castle by day and that they be locked in their rooms overnight. The ladies retire to bed and hear their doors locked. Later, they hear an odd sound in the hallway outside their door. Through the crack underneath, they can see the shadow of something moving along the floor outside their room. This, of course, is unsettling.
Aunt Edith gets loose the next day and stumbles on a room in the back of the castle. Upon entering, she sees something hideous moving in the corner and promptly faints. With Aunt Edith confined to her bed with shock and sickness, the two women must linger at the castle, to the consternation of Gerald. When Kitty sees odd footprints on the carpet outside her door, she reconnoiters. She notices that the stairs leading up to the room where her aunt saw the hideous thing are oddly huge, like platforms, she says. She also finds Gerald reading a book on teratology and decides something must be done. Through a passing farmer, she gets word to her friends – one of whom is a doctor – to come to the castle. Her friends arrive and decide that Gerald has gone mad. Instead, what they find horrifies them beyond even their wildest imaginations.
William Cameron Menzies was the original “production designer”. He was working in silent film from before Paramount was called Paramount (Famous Players-Lasky) as a special effects artist and a setting designer. He soon developed a reputation as the top man in Hollywood for the design of a production. His work on “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” (1938) drew the attention of David O. Selznick who hired him to work on “Gone With the Wind”. The term “Production Designer” was coined for Menzies and he directed the “burning Atlanta” segment of that legendary Civil War drama. In fact, Menzies was so integral to the look of “Gone With the Wind” that a memo had been circulated stating that Menzies had the final word on many visual aspects of the film and subsequently “Gone With the Wind” bears the credit “This Production Designed By William Cameron Menzies”. At this point, though, Menzies had already directed 1936’s “Things to Come”, “Chandu the Magician” with Bela Lugosi and he would go on to helm “The Maze” and “Invaders from Mars”, both in 1953.
“The Maze” was part of the “3-D Movie” craze of the 1950’s. In an effort to draw viewers away from their television sets and back to the theatres, filmmakers came up with this process that lent itself well to Menzies’ visual style. Many prints of this film have by this time jettisoned the 3-D process but you can spot certain shots and setups that no doubt exist because of the original 3-D presentation. The film was produced by Allied Artists and, in a “Six Degrees of Elvis” element, Allied was on the verge of bankruptcy in 1966 when it released the Presley picture “Tickle Me”, the financial success of which brought the studio back from the brink. “The Maze” is based on a short novel written by William Sandoz and featuring illustrations by Salvador Dali. In turn, this novel is based on the legend of Glamis Castle in Scotland that reportedly contained a mysterious resident that lived in a hidden part of the castle and that no one ever saw. Interestingly, Sandoz seems to have been involved with a pharmaceutical firm that supplied legal LSD to the medical profession in the 1960’s.
The film stars Richard Carlson, an actor I know best from “Beyond Tomorrow”, a fantasy film centered around Christmas. He also appeared in “Too Many Girls” with Desi Arnaz, “Hold That Ghost” with Abbott and Costello and later in “King Solomon’s Mines” and “Creature from the Black Lagoon”. He also was given the chance to direct a handful of small pictures before wrapping up his career in films by appearing with Elvis Presley in 1969’s “Change of Habit”, which was also EP’s last acting role. Veronica Hurst is an English actress born in Malta. She is one of those actresses that acted in virtually nothing anybody has ever heard of on this side of the Atlantic but she is a delight as the fiancee of the tortured MacTeam. She looks and acts a little like Debbie Reynolds and she is pretty and bright and seems to be totally comfortable and confident in front of the camera. She plays Kitty as headstrong and determined and she actually carries this film and does it well. Miss Hurst is still with us, aged 86.
Australian Michael Pate plays Gerald’s butler. Pate was seen earlier in the decade in a couple of Boris Karloff horror vehicles. He was the first man to portray James Bond’s CIA buddy, Felix Leiter, and did so in the television production of “Casino Royale” in 1954. He went on to a middling career in films: “Hondo”, “Sergeant’s Three” and “McLintock!” and then worked extensively in his homeland and with his son, also an actor. Aunt Edith is played by Katherine Emery. I thought I had seen her in something before but I must be mistaken. She has a mere 12 acting credits to her name and “The Maze” is the last of them. She lived to age 76, dying in 1980.
The funny thing about “The Maze” is the maze itself. It serves as little more than a setting for a small aspect of the plot. The film is still remembered today only because of it’s 3-D presentation. It was one of the first 3-D films and it helped introduce the format to the masses. And then there’s the pay-off; the reveal at the end of the story. How do I describe it without spoilers? It is remarkable, actually, but it really matters little. The pacing and the build up to this reveal are handled surprisingly well. “The Maze” received mixed reviews at time of release. Notably, one reviewer praised Carlson’s “excellent” performance. One of my favourite reviews is most apt; “(“The Maze” is) moronic but entertaining”. Bang on.
Sirius XM has launched a Beach Boys channel for the summer! Listening to the music of Brian Wilson, et al. randomly has inspired me to highlight some of their lesser known songs in a 3-part series. So, let’s go surfin’ now!
Brian Wilson and I go way back. My earliest recollection of hearing music is my mother’s Elvis Presley records. (And “Maneater” and “Stray Cat Strut”) I connected with Presley early and became not just a “lifelong fan” but a sort of student; of his music, his personality and his impact on society. However, I think I can safely say that the first music that I discovered for myself was the music of the Beach Boys. I was 12 years old and my Aunt Lori gave me some records, among them the Beach Boys’ iconic greatest hits package, 1974’s “Endless Summer”.
I listened to this record throughout the summer of 1985, the summer I was 12. At the end of that summer, my family was moving away from the city I had grown up in to a small town. Perhaps the impending separation from my friends and from the life I had known caused me to gravitate to the Beach Boys’ songs; songs of joy, songs of love, songs of longing. The music spoke to my imagination. It gave me a “place to go”.
I’m going to try very hard to be concise throughout this 3-part series. I intend it to be a set of articles for those only slightly familiar with this music that will highlight some of the lesser known gems in the Beach Boys canon – and not a dissertation on the career of the group and their cultural impact; although their story is so rife with fascinating episodes that I would like to tackle such a series one day. They are often misunderstood and underappreciated and a multi-part series on them would go a long way to clearing that up.
But – like I’ve done with Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley and Nat Cole (search for them on my blog to read the articles) – I’d like these articles to direct your attention to the music; which has also been somewhat misunderstood and underappreciated. I plan on going a little deeper than their more recognizable hits as most of us are more-than-familiar with iconic Beach Boys music. We could call this the best of the “2nd tier”. Of course, the Beach Boys catalogue is so deep that we could carry on to highlight a 3rd and 4th tier; the hidden gems.
One can’t talk about the music of the Beach Boys without talking about Brian Wilson. Brian was born the oldest of three boys to Murry and Audree in 1942 in Hawthorne, California. The late Rolling Stone writer Timothy White wrote a book of such staggeringly thorough research that I cannot recommend it highly enough. It is called “The Nearest Faraway Place” and it deals not only with Brian and the Beach Boys but it also gets in-depth about what White calls the “Southern California Experience”. White’s book begins with a long history of Brian’s forebears. The story White relates goes a long way towards explaining the person of Murry Wilson. The generational issues that plagued previous Wilson men landed heavily on Murry – and he in turn “landed heavily” on Brian.
Brian was a gentle child who was subjected to brutal treatment at the hands of his father. It’s so hard to abbreviate this aspect of Brian’s journey but suffice it to say that Brian turned to music not only as a companion and an outlet but also as a means to communicate with and satisfy the demands and expectations of Murry. Murry himself had been a songwriter; somehow restraining his demons long enough to compose pleasant little ditties in the hopes of having them published and perhaps even recorded and performed by a big name. He was successful once when Lawrence Welk performed Murry’s “Two-Step Side Step” on the radio.
Brian was intrigued by the intricate harmonies of the vocal group the Four Freshmen. He became obsessed with mastering these harmonies by breaking them down – separating them and teaching them to his two younger brothers, Carl and Dennis. Carl was keen on Chuck Berry and rhythm and blues music and Brian absorbed that as well. Dennis was a rebel, for lack of a better word. He would go toe-to-toe with Murry and then take off into the streets and down to the beach. It was surfing, girls and beach life that Dennis was most interested in and it was these pursuits that he talked about around the house and in the music room that Murry had set up for the boys.
The Wilson boys had an older cousin named Mike Love. Mike was into doo-wop and when the two families would get together, Mike and the three Wilson boys would talk music and listen to the radio and sing songs themselves, Mike taking the bass parts. The four young men began to entertain the idea of forming a group. With the addition of high school friend Al Jardine, they did just that, filling the music room of the Wilson home with their fledgling sounds. This caught the attention of father Murry who quickly put himself in charge of the boys’ progress. He did, after all, have some connections in the music business and he was possessed of the belligerence needed to operate in that arena.
But first, Murry needed a holiday. He and Audree were going to Mexico. Brian, the oldest, was left in charge of the house and of the $500 ’emergency money’ Murry had left behind. No sooner had the Wilson parents left the driveway than the boys took the $500 and rented instruments so that they could work on a song. Dennis had come back from the beach raving about the scene there and suggesting that Brian write a song about surfing. It was this song the group worked on while Murry and Audree were away.
When Murry returned and saw all the instruments and learned to what use the emergency money had went, he blew his stack, focusing his physical rage on Brian. Once Murry had the situation explained to him, and their song, “Surfin'”, played for him, he calmed down and went into business mode. The song was eventually released on the tiny Candix label and became a minor hit for the newly christened “Beach Boys”. Capitol Records became interested and the boys soon found themselves in the studio recording their first album.
Whew! Seems wrong to compress this story like that! The main purpose here, though, is to talk about the music that the Beach Boys made in this first era of their legendary run as “America’s Band”. During the years 1961 to 1965, Brian Wilson and his group did no less than put their stamp on history; music history and cultural history. And Brian Wilson did it almost single-handedly. Although he would much rather have followed Phil Spector’s lead and been a producer with a stable of artists, Brian found himself “paying the bills” as the bassist of a surf band. The songs that went over with the public in this era dealt with surfing, cars and girls; what Mike Love would later infamously label “The Formula”. The songs come across as so simple that, to the general listener, they are just fun songs. But Brian began to create compositions that were vocally and harmonically intricate if you knew what to listen for. I’ll concede though that the classic songs from this era are still cherished today because they depict and celebrate the sheer joy of living; not necessarily because of Brian’s tonal shifts or chord changes. The great songs from this era are songs we all know and love so well that they have become embedded in the fabric of life itself; you want to depict fun, happiness and the release that warm weather provides, play a Beach Boys song: “Surfin’ Safari”, “Surfin’ U.S.A.”, “409”, “Little Deuce Coupe”, “Shut Down”, “Fun, Fun, Fun”, “I Get Around”. Don’t let your familiarity with these songs rob you of your enjoyment of them. They represent a remarkably successful string of records that are sophisticated creations while at the same time being infinitely accessible. You may have heard “Surfin’ U.S.A.” a thousand times and you take it for granted. Try to listen to it again for the first time; there are few records from this era more exhilarating.
OK, so, you know all those songs but what else was going on? Glad you asked. Got a list right here.
10. “Catch a Wave” (1963 – from “Surfer Girl”) — Some of the songs I will present on these lists may seem to be pedestrian or common in the Beach Boys catalogue. Most times the reason for their inclusion is that they are perfect examples of what the group did so well. Some songs are simply great representations of their ‘sound’. “Catch a Wave” may be one of these songs. Written by Brian and Mike, it is a rare time when all the boys played on a recording with no session musicians. Even Al Jardine AND David Marks play on “Catch a Wave”; Marks would leave the group less than 6 months after this was recorded. Mike Love’s sister, Maureen, cameos on harp. Never released as a single, it’s appeal may come in part from it’s inclusion on “Endless Summer”. It appears early on that compilation – track 3 – and helps to create the mood of that album. It is an integral piece, one of many parts, but, taken on it’s own, it has a good, mid-tempo groove with some solid drumming from Dennis and a great solo from Brian on organ. Features some of Mike’s better wordplay. It’s one of many of their songs that sounds like a summer sunset, the end of a fun day spent outdoors. A year later, Jan & Dean gave this song new lyrics about skateboarding and took “Sidewalk Surfin'” to #25.
9. “In the Parkin’ Lot” (1964 – from “Shut Down Volume 2”) — Maybe the most hidden gem on this list, Brian took this little ditty and sent it skyward by tacking on four bars of gorgeous vocals to the beginning and the end of this song from this very good album with the silly name. Earlier in the year, Capitol had released a compilation of instrumental hot rod songs and called it “Shut Down”. I suppose the Beach Boys could’ve called their album something else – but it was likely Capitol that named both. “In the Parkin’ Lot” is most notable for Brian’s arrangement of the boys’ sumptuous voices but it also shines due to it’s ‘slice-of-life’ vocal imagery, brought to you by Roger Christian. Christian was a disc jockey in Los Angeles in the ‘golden era’ and spent some time at the famous KFWB near Hollywood and Vine where he was introduced to Brian Wilson. The two would go for milkshakes and write songs. Christian – a disc jockey, mind you – was great with word imagery and he knew cars. If you look him up, you’ll see that he wrote the words to many great songs by the Beach Boys and – more impressively – he wrote the lyrics to the majority of the best songs of Jan and Dean. If you close your eyes and listen to “In the Parkin’ Lot”, you’ll hear a cute tale of a guy and a girl waiting until the last minute to get out of the car in the morning and get to class on time. But it’s the stunning display of vocals that bookend this song that set it apart.
8. “All Summer Long” (1964 – from “All Summer Long”) — A lot of you may say that this enduring title track from ’64 is, indeed, one of the better known Beach Boys songs and not a “2nd tier” song. I won’t argue with that – I may even agree – but I will stand by the assertion that it may not be one of the first 10 or 15 songs a casual fan will mention. Again I will use this song as an example of what the Beach Boys did best in this era. The song is an absolute delight written by Brian and Mike. Brian has crafted another perfect pop song – both with his composition and his production – and Mike again nails the ethos of what the Beach Boys were about. Mike’s lyrics depict a perfect idyll of summer activities with personal touches we all can relate to. He takes the lead vocal here and sings of sitting in the car with a coke, miniature golf, Hondas, horseback rides and randomly hearing your favourite song on the radio. These images provide for us today delightful pangs of nostalgia for a bygone era. Again, all the boys were present in the studio and I was delightfully surprised to learn that it is Brian himself playing the distinctive marimba on this track. This song ascended to rarefied air in 1973 thanks to George Lucas’ seminal coming-of-age film “American Graffiti”. Lucas’ film is a significant paean to the pivot point in the lives of young people but also paints a portrait of the major shifts experienced in American society in the early-to-mid ’60’s. Not only did Lucas give his stamp of approval to the 42 songs he used to exemplify the aura of the time but he was savvy enough to know that this Beach Boys song – in not only the lyrics but the tone of the song – speaks of the end of something; summer, yes, but Lucas also heard in it the “sundown” of the innocence of the era that ended with the death of JFK and the coming of the Beatles. He felt strongly enough to use it over the closing credits even though it was released 2 years after the year in which his film is set.
7. “Kiss Me, Baby” (1965 – from “The Beach Boys Today!”) — This album represented a major leap for the Beach Boys and a turning point in their career and in Brian Wilson’s life. Brian and the boys had been going non-stop for 4 years, releasing some of the most iconic music in American history. Consider that all this time Brian had been doing most of the heavy lifting: composing the music, arranging the songs, arranging the vocals, playing bass and various keyboards, singing and performing and touring. He was doing all this while battling psychological issues of immense proportions that I won’t get into. A week after recording the backing track for “Kiss Me, Baby” with the famed Wrecking Crew (plus Carl on guitar; himself on piano), Brian had a significant anxiety attack and nervous breakdown and announced he was retiring from touring and staying home to focus on making music. “The Beach Boys Today!” is significant as the album that indicated that things were pivoting. Gone were songs of surf and cars and goofy teenage love. This album was filled with serious statements on mature love and life. I single out “Kiss Me, Baby” because it is sublime. Written by Brian and Mike – who also take the leads – it begins with dreamy vocals and dramatic piano (Leon Russell is also credited on piano here). Mike’s lyrics tell of the aftermath of an argument – and there is a sense that what the couple is fighting over is no longer just ‘kid stuff’. Excellent percussion from the legend Hal Blaine leads us to one of those ‘cliffs’ I love in a song – the vocals seem to hang in midair for a second and then we drop into the chorus: “We both had a broken heart…oh, baby…kiss me, baby, love to hold you….” Beautiful vocals from all five Boys. A gorgeous song.
6. “Wendy” (1964 – from “All Summer Long”) — I’ve always thought that there was something significant about the second half of “Endless Summer”. The songs always seemed a bit more serious while still feeling like sunshine and warm air. Maybe the first half is the glow of midday; full bore fun in the sun. And the second half is late afternoon, approaching sunset; exhaling, afterglow, driving back home, tired but exhilarated. “Wendy” fits that ‘second half’ vibe for me perfectly. Another song written by Brian and Mike and featuring all five Beach Boys playing and singing. There’s just something about the sound of the guitars and the vocal arrangement. Brian lays down a nice organ solo and when the voices come back in – “Wendy, I wouldn’t hurt you like that…” – it is one of a thousand examples of how good their voices sounded together. This song may be looked at as one of those simple, little ditties but there is more going on here. There is certainly emotional content, yes, but if you look it up, you’ll find that there is a surprising amount going on with the composition, as well: “The song begins with a minor i chord in the key of D minor, moves to a major IV…then modulates to the key of F major (the relative major of D minor) through a substituted plagal cadence…” I don’t know what any of that means but I do know that it substantiates the claim that the genius of Brian Wilson was hiding in plain sight; you may not have understood it but it was there. As I say, “Wendy” has a unique quality to it and it made me a major fan of that feminine appellation.
5. “The Warmth of the Sun” (1964 – from “Shut Down Volume 2”) — Here is an earlier example of that “Wendy” vibe I just mentioned. “Shut Down Volume 2” is an interesting album. It contains what could be considered ‘filler’ like “Shut Down, Part II”, “Louie, Louie” and “Denny’s Drums” but it also contains the iconic up-tempo “Fun, Fun, Fun” and ballads like “Keep an Eye on Summer” and “The Warmth of the Sun”. A dramatic ballad, the song begins – as many of their songs do – with soaring harmonies featuring Brian’s lovely falsetto. Mike has written some fine lyrics here which immediately seem different from other sentiments from his pen. The words express a confusion about life, wondering what is the value in the things that I do? It is fitting that this conundrum is solved when Brian sings that it’s all good “for I have the warmth of the sun within me at night”. It’s a manifesto of sorts from the Beach Boys that says that while things may not always be great, things like sunshine and the freedom and joy it can afford will help – if not save – you in the end. There is an emotion inherent in this song owing to the day it was written; November 22, 1963. The day John F. Kennedy was assassinated was a turning point for American society and elicited feelings in the entire nation. Brian and Mike were not immune to this and both were inspired to create this beautiful statement from a tragic event. This song is often mentioned when discussing Brian’s inventive chord changes in his earlier compositions. Beach Boy dad, Murry Wilson, did an instrumental version of this song on his lone album, the surprisingly enjoyable “The Many Moods of Murry Wilson” on Capitol (1967).
4. “Car Crazy Cutie” (1963 – from “Little Deuce Coupe”) — “Run, a-run, a-do run run. Oh, oh, run…” Annnd, I’m done. But seriously: I love Capitol Records but…in the summer of ’63, the label put out an album of hot rod songs called “Shut Down” which featured the song of the same name and “409” by the Beach Boys. This was done without their participation or knowledge. So, Brian quickly finished up some songs he had been working on and hustled the boys back into the studio to record their own album of car songs. They released the “Little Deuce Coupe” album only one month after their previous album, “Surfer Girl”. The Boys flying through the recording of this album with the speed of a ’32 Ford can be seen in the fact that half the songs are under two minutes in length and the whole album runs about 20 minutes. Nevertheless, this is looked on as one of the earliest “concept” albums. The longest song on the album? The one that LEAST sounds like it was a rush job, “Car Crazy Cutie”, written by Brian and Roger Christian. Brian constructed a very cool vocal arrangement that puts one in mind of the Crystals’ “Da Doo Ron Ron”, which was recorded around the same time as this tune. Once again, the song begins with a distinctive vocal intro and the tune drops in to a great mid-tempo guitar-driven groove. Again, the band features Al Jardine and David Marks, who would not play on another Beach Boys record until 2012. Roger’s car-savvy lyrics tell of a gal who’s a real “rodder’s dream gal” who’s “hip to everything, man, from customs to rails” and when he “takes her to the drags, man, everyone flips”. I love this song and – like “In the Parkin’ Lot” – it’s the vocal bookends that make it stand out.
3. “Do You Wanna Dance?” (1965 – from “The Beach Boys Today!”) — Beautiful harmonies, strikingly complex arrangements. These are the things we often think of when thinking of the Beach Boys. But here is an example of them exhibiting sheer energy in a driving remake of Bobby Freeman’s classic song. This is the only song on this list that was a domestic A-side single. I wish I knew musical terminology to describe to you what Brian has done here with the arrangement. Utilizing Freeman’s pounding piano chords to build the song up with crescendos, Brian has maximized the dramatic import of the composition. Although he used the Wrecking Crew on this one, the instruments that stand out the most are the pounding piano played by Brian himself and the guitar (that doubles with the piano) played by Carl, who also takes the solo. Brian has replaced Freeman’s unique percussion sound in the breaks with Carl’s boss guitar. But again it’s the vocals that really stand out. The lead is taken by Dennis and this is significant. The highest charting Beach Boys song to feature Denny on lead, “Do You Wanna Dance?” benefits from his masculine voice. Indeed, the energy inherent here is due in large part to his reading of the lyric. I love how his voice starts things off here, popping out of the gates. The times when the group comes in to sing “oh, do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya wanna dance?” are exhilarating! Particularly heading for the outro; listen for Brian’s falsetto wail at the final crescendo. Add Hal Blaine’s drums and this thing rolls. Consider that this track features organ and two mandolins. Not easy to hear them but they contribute to the overall sound. Makes me think that actual video footage of Dennis Wilson, at this point in his life, recording this song would be the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.
2. “Don’t Worry, Baby” (1964 – from “Shut Down Volume 2”) — Here’s where we can begin debating the definition of “2nd tier” Beach Boys songs. I’ll allow that the general public is aware of this beautiful song but it also fits the criteria presented here as in it is not immediately indicative of the Beach Boys’ sound in this era. The fact that this is on the same album as “Pom Pom Playgirl”, “Shut Down, Part 2” and “Louie, Louie” shows the strides Brian was making as a composer. Brian wrote “Don’t Worry, Baby” as an homage to Phil Spector and Brian’s favourite record, “Be My Baby”. Roger Christian provided the lyrics which depicted a young man’s apprehension regarding an upcoming drag race. Thing is, Brian had spoken at length with Roger about his frustrations with his father, Murry, and his own vulnerabilities where girls were concerned. Roger – to his credit – seems to have taken these talks with Brian and turned them into a lyric about a drag race – that’s not really about a drag race. Here, too, we can also begin to collectively shake our heads and struggle to accurately describe such a work of art. Dennis starts things off with a gentle snare and those glorious vocals come in followed by some nice piano from Brian. And, again, there is just that sound to this song. It has that dreamy sunset sound to it. Maybe I shouldn’t be so amazed that all the Boys play on this recording but I am. They all contribute to an amazingly smooth recording. I have read that Brian was unsure about singing a falsetto lead on a single – although this was technically not a single as it was released as the B side of “I Get Around”, the Beach Boys’ first #1 song. “Don’t Worry, Baby” charted in it’s own right and peaked at #24. It is one of the few Beach Boys songs to have been covered extensively, having been essayed by the likes of Bryan Ferry, the Bay City Rollers and Billy Joel. Keith Moon did a brutal version on his terrible solo album that reportedly made Brian break down crying. B.J. Thomas took it to #17 in 1977 and the Everly Brothers do a fine version – featuring the Beach Boys – on the soundtrack of “Tequila Sunrise”. The vocal arrangement is one of Brian’s finest and if someone asks you what is so good about the Beach Boys, play them this song.
1. “Let Him Run Wild” (1965 – from “Summer Days [And Summer Nights!!]”) —I see now that I have given myself a ridiculously difficult task – trying to describe not only “Don’t Worry, Baby” but now also “Let Him Run Wild”. Appearing on a fun and somewhat underrated album, “Let Him Run Wild” was written by Brian and Mike. Brian’s composition is a nod to the song stylings of the great Burt Bacharach and is notable as being the first song that Brian wrote under the influence of marijuana. It was also the first song that made Carl and Dennis realize that Brian was starting to move into another realm and it is a significant signpost on the way to “Pet Sounds”. Vocally, this is another 6-Beach Boy performance with Bruce Johnston putting in some of his first shifts. Several star members of the famed Wrecking Crew are on hand and the track starts with Frank Capp’s vibraphone followed by Brian’s lead. Some dreamy guitar work by Carl (or Howard Roberts) and a nifty bass line from Carol Kaye carry the tune along gently. We drift into the chorus – “Let him run wild, he don’t care…” – and are neatly lead back to the verse: “I guess you know I waited for you…”. I dunno – I’m out of things to say about this gorgeous track. It was the b-side of “California Girls”.
Next Up… 1966 – 1973: Brian pivots and leaves everyone behind
Starring Patty Duke, Barbara Parkins, Sharon Tate, Paul Burke, Susan Hayward, Tony Scotti and Martin Milner. Directed by Mark Robson. From 20th Century Fox.
Now, I know what you’re thinking and – partly – you’re right. But let me explain. I have always said “I’m a fan. Not a critic”. Bruce Kirkland used to review movies for the Toronto Sun back in the day and he used to infuriate me. Because he was a movie critic. Critic. His job, by definition, was to analyze films and point out their strengths and weaknesses based on his experience and his abilities. But he still bugged me because he never said things like “this is a bad film. But I like it!” – which, of course, a movie reviewer would never say. Their job is to critique and not to gush.
MY job, however, is to gush. I think the main reason I enjoy movies is because of the escape they provide me and classic movies are all the better because, in addition, I enjoy them as a window on the past. I remember watching James Bond movies in the late 1970’s-early 1980’s and saying “why has he stopped off in the Bahamas? Why is he there? What actually is happening?!”. I didn’t care about the plots – I was drinking in the “Bond-ness”. Same with my Falcon movies of the 1940’s – not really following the plot but man, look at that apartment and look at what he’s wearing! I love movies (and music and books) for what I “get” from them. They give me things just by being – not by being good.
Which leads me to “guilty pleasures”. Things you know may be of poor quality but you love them. Beach Party movies, elevator music, the Montreal Canadiens – things you can’t defend. Perhaps the guiltiest of all guilty pleasures is “Valley of the Dolls” from 20th Century-Fox in 1967. This film has gained a reputation as one of the ‘worst’ films in history. It’s outlandish dialogue and acting and it’s over-the-top soap opera plot have garnered it many bad reviews, parodies, one bad ‘sequel’ and the disdain of the critics. As often happens, though, at the same time this movie has gained a faithful following of ardent fans who love it. Most of them say that it’s so bad, it’s wonderful and they love it although they know it’s ridiculous. I can see their point and I tend to agree but every time I watch this movie I come away saying that there is some real depth in the story it tells and it really packs a lot of entertainment value.
The story tracks the lives and careers of three women: Neely O’Hara (Duke), Anne Welles, (Canadian Parkins) and Jennifer North (Tate). Their lives are a series of ups and downs, successes and failures, men and ‘dolls’ – the prescription drugs that they all indulge in to varying degrees. Neely starts out as an ingenue in a Broadway musical. She has genuine talent – and that scares the show’s star, Helen Lawson (Hayward), who has Neely fired. Neely is consoled by her husband, Mel (Milner), who is beginning to think that a successful career means more to Neely than he does. Indeed, it does and Neely begins to alienate Mel by throwing herself into becoming a star while growing ever more dependent on barbiturates and the like. Anne is a quiet, small town New England beauty who wants to experience life on her own before settling down with her childhood sweetheart. It is a picturesque winter day when she boards the train for New York, saying farewell to her youth and pivoting toward adulthood and a secretarial job for a high-powered Broadway agent. Jennifer is an actress of astounding beauty and negligible acting abilities. While she is a down-to-earth girl, she realizes that her physical appearance is all she has to ensure her the work and the paychecks that will keep her – and her family back home – alive. Neely ends up a major star who becomes self-centered and obnoxious and she eventually has to enter a clinic to kick her drug addiction. Anne is discovered by a cosmetics mogul and becomes successful and wealthy as the model for his line. She becomes the “Gillian Girl”. She falls for Lyon Burke (Paul Burke), another agent in her office, who won’t marry her and eventually breaks her heart, driving her into drug-fueled depression. Jennifer catches the eye of singer Tony Polar (Scotti) and they marry. Tony is stricken with a terrible disease that incapacitates him both mentally and physically and lands him in an expensive clinic. To pay the bills, Jennifer makes the tough decision to denigrate herself by making “art” films in Paris. Her eventual demise is heartbreaking.
Tales of the production and legacy of this film are legion. I will only skim the surface here and suggest you read up on it yourself. I can also highly recommend the novel this film is based on by Jacqueline Susann but keep in mind that drastic changes were made to the story resulting in Susann’s ire. Judy Garland was originally cast as Helen Lawson – an inspired choice – but Garland was in such rough shape at the time – herself a victim of ‘dolls’ – that she was fired soon after production began. There are reports, however, that the director of the film, Canadian Mark Robson (“Peyton Place”), was particularly hard on Garland. The soundtrack for this film is an absolute gem. I do admit, though, that sometimes I love a movie’s soundtrack because the songs bring to mind the scenes of the film that I remember fondly and sometimes I’m blind – or “deaf” – to the songs’ lack of quality. The songs that are performed in this film were written by the great Andre Previn and his wife, Dory. The title track is excellent. It is performed in the film by Dionne Warwick. Dory’s lyric asks a series of questions and reveals a sense of loss and confusion. They speak of living a roller coaster existence and a desire to “get off of this merry-go-round”. As the film progresses, the lyrics are deftly changed to reflect Anne’s story arc. When things start to get heavy for her, the lyrics change to: “When will I learn? Where will I find what is real?”. And when she hits rock bottom: “Have to get off from this ride, need to get hold of my pride…how was I lost in this game? How will I think of my name? When did I stop feeling sure, feeling safe…?”. It’s an excellent technique; like a Greek chorus. Singer Tony Scotti – the only performer in the film not dubbed – performs “Come Live With Me”. It is a stunning song that has a haunting, dramatic quality that had me searching for a copy for years. The song is used to reflect the action at different key points in Jennifer’s story arc. The score itself was done by John Williams. Yes, that John Williams. The composer of the themes for the “Star Wars” films, the “Indiana Jones” films, “Jaws” and “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” has been nominated for 50 Academy Awards (second-best to Walt Disney). His score for “Valley of the Dolls” gave him his first Oscar nom. Check for a hidden lounge music gem on the soundtrack called “Chance Meeting”. It’s delightful.
Here’s the thing that “grounds” this film, the thing that draws me to it every January. The aspect of winter comes in to play in a very significant way in this story. I don’t know if the writers intended it this way but this is what I get from it. As I’ve said, Anne Welles comes from a rural New England town, a town that has known many crippling winters. Her life before she heads for the city is briefly shown to be one of family and home. We see her at home in the winter with her mother and her aunt. The very day she gets on the train to leave town it is snowing. From her window, she looks out upon the Norman Rockwell landscape that has made up the total of her safe childhood and teenage years. Her dreams lead her to New York City and from there she ends up in sunny California. It seems to me that this is the basis of every success story you’ve ever heard; no matter where someone has come from, the goal, the peak, the end of the rainbow is somewhere warm. With sunshine, beaches, ocean. And here in the Golden State is where Anne becomes successful and wealthy, yes. But here is where she also loses her way, becomes unhappy and addicted to ‘dolls’. Lyon has broken her heart, her friends have betrayed and abandoned her, and she is spiraling out of control. During a scene she has alone in her beach house, she finally throws the pill bottle away and runs to the ocean. It’s a scene that may not be acted the best and is ridiculed a lot but it is also a scene that shows her hitting rock bottom and desiring to be cleansed in the waters of the Pacific. But that is not enough for her. She needs to reset, to get her bearings again. She needs healing. This, for her, can only be found in one place. To really make things right, she goes home. Home where it’s full-on winter. Winter. A time when we are forced to turn inward. A time of the mind and soul as opposed to the hedonistic pleasures of the flesh to be found in the sun and sand. A time when there are fewer distractions, less to do and when there is more time to be spent looking at ourselves, and reevaluating the way we live. To me, that speaks to the idea that winter can represent comfort and home, memories of childhood, of family and a wholesome, safe lifestyle. To me, it’s an intriguing and sensitive theme to show up in a film like this. During Anne’s redemption, a time when she is battered and bruised but still willing and able to take another crack at life, the title track is sung once more. This time the lyrics speak of a dawning realization. An epiphany inextricably tied to the restorative powers of the winter:
“Got to be here, have to be where I belong…came to know where I went wrong. It was all here, why was I blind to it then? This is my world…this is where I’ll start again.” (italics mine)
As a side note, I researched the filming locations for this film and found that Anne’s house in “Lawrenceville” is actually the Samuel Jarvis house in the picturesque and historic town of Redding, Connecticut. The house dates from the 1790’s. I got some help on this from the fine folks at the Redding Historical Society.
Bottom line is the film is tons of fun. I suggest you check it out.
I’ve always had a vivid imagination. I can’t really say where it came from. One of the earliest memories I can recall was when I was about seven years old and still living in Downsview. I was a big “Happy Days” fan and owned the record “Fonzie’s Favorites”. The B side featured romantic doo-wop songs and I remember listening late at night with a single lamp on, suffusing the room with dim, red light. I recall taking in every lyric on that record, every word coming to life as I pictured the guy looking up at his girlfriend’s window, seeing her with another guy only to realize he’s on the wrong street. Guys wishing in the starry night and girls wondering what it’ll take to get their boys back. Thing is it was so vivid. Reality was gone and imagination took over.
As I grew older, there came to be so many more similar examples of me ‘connecting’ with an album or a TV show, book or movie. Even when I knew a particular film was lousy, if I ‘got something’ from it, if it ‘took me somewhere’, then I liked it.
Then it began to spread to many different things and I soon discovered the downside. Now, some people with little or no imagination simply don’t know any better. They’re not fascinated by the furniture in the room in a film from the 1940’s or golf being played in the Swiss Alps or the way that song goes up a key and actually sounds like late afternoon sunshine feels. They don’t think they can actually smell the coffee and beans at a campfire in a Western or the cigarette smoke in a Harlem jazz club in the early ’50’s when they listen to John Coltrane. These people are, of course, normal. They go to work five, sometimes six or seven days a week. On days off, they drink beer in their basements or backyards. They watch hockey, UFC, WWE, gridiron football. Their only dream, really, is not having to work anymore. If they had a vivid imagination, they would know what an array of kicks are available cheap to the average Joe.
Then there’s me. My imagination has opened up interests for me in a number of different areas. The downside? There’s simply not enough time. Trying to ‘keep track’ of all the things I’m into is hard work. I could easily spend ALL my time doing any number of things. SO MANY things fascinate me.
I could be “Travel Guy”: subscribe to National Geographic, save every dime I could for travel, get a map of the world tattooed on my back. I could EASILY devote all my time to learning new languages, cook food from around the world and just be a nomad; either travelling somewhere or planning to.
I could be “Classic Movie Guy”: connecting with my Twitter friends with #TCMParty has shown me that there are many people who devote their lives to classic film. I could EASILY watch nothing but Turner Classic Movies or movies on DVD, collecting even more obsessively than I do now. Join and follow sites/blogs/groups on the internet and basically just live in black and white. I love this world. I could live there 24/7. No sweat.
I could be “Sailor Guy”: I could immerse myself in all the classic literature of the sea. Watch only pirate and nautical-themed movies. Study ships of the past, eat fish, smoke a pipe. Learn how to tie all the knots. Move to Alcona, buy a boat, fish all the time. I could EASILY spend all my time. learning about life lived by the sea. I really feel like this guy every year when we go to Ponce Inlet, FLA.
I could be “Oldies Guy”: nothing but the music of the ’50’s and early ’60’s. Pile my hair high in a pompadour (as I used to), wear blue jeans and motorcycle boots (as I used to). Go to car shows and Fifties dances. Again, the internet – upload songs to YouTube, talk about them with others, join discussion groups and get newsletters. Collect rare 45s. I could just doo-wop myself to death.
I could be “Car Guy”: I watch the guys at the car shows. Talking about 325’s and positraction. Their hands are always dirty. I could tinker with some heap in the backyard. Buy a ’59 Impala and wipe it all the time. Wear coveralls with black, hi-cut, canvas Converse and a red bandanna hanging out of the back pocket. EASILY.
I could be “Surfer Guy”: Hawaiian shirts, t-shirts, shorts, slaps, bare feet. Move to the water and spend all my time in it. Ukulele and campfires. ‘Surfer’ Magazine, surf music, coconut water. There’s days worth of surfing footage/films to watch on YouTube. Follow nothing but World Surf League and watch all the events online. Grow dreadlocks and call everyone ‘brah’. A life of NOTHING but sun and water.
I could be a “Jazzbo”: grow a goatee, speak ‘hip’, take up smoking again. Listen to nothing but Miles, Trane and Dizzy. Listen to and support Jazz FM91. Dress in Kangol hats and dark clothes. There is such a cool, unpretentious detachment to the jazz world that has always appealed to me. In high school, for a co-op, I was host of “Jazz International” on a community radio station in Waterloo. Particularly in the autumn, this world is very appealing.
I could be a “Cowboy”: there is such a significant history inherent in Western living. There is such a hearty, honest, hard-working quality to the Cowboy Way. The camaraderie that can exist between a person and a horse, the campfire, the stars at night, the rope and leather. I’d love to grow a big, ol’ Sam Elliott mustache and listen to nothing but classic country. Even new country music adds to the aura with it’s songs of difficult relationships, hard-working good, ol’ boys, God and the Bible still a part of life, memories of mama and daddy and how they raised their children. Poking around a TSC Store always makes me feel that I could EASILY live as ‘rural guy’.
I could be “Elvis Guy”: ‘Elvis World’ is so diverse it’s easy to spend all your time there. A lot of people that do, though, can become a little creepy. My man appeals to me in such a way and there is so much to his story that I can totally see how people can focus on him to the exclusion of all others. This makes me think of the times I’ve visited various forums or chat groups devoted to one artist. You see people that are so dialed in to the one group or singer/actor that they love that the spend ALL their time and effort reading about, learning about and talking about just one thing. I can’t do that but I often think I could with Presley. Just listen, watch, read, collect, share, learn, study nothing but EP.
I could be “Sports Guy”: this is a post in itself. When my sons were little I decided we should follow hockey. I had a strong dislike, though, for all the hating that went on between the fans of rival teams. I told my boys ‘we’re going to follow hockey but we’re not going to hate – or love, for that matter – any specific team’. I carried the same mentality over into English Football when I started watching. A friend of mine – a hardcore footy fan from way back – became enraged with me and told me it was not allowed to like ALL the teams. You’ve got to pick one, love it and despise their rivals! So, now I can say I love my teams and hate their rivals. Particularly when we are in the middle of a season, I love to focus all my attention on my teams: read articles on how they’re doing, listen to podcasts, collect jerseys, learn about their history and basically just live and die with their fortunes. I feel like I can’t be ‘all in’ in this though mainly because I hate to debate. I can’t stand it when I hear someone disparaging another team. I always think if you love your team then you love your team even if they are the worst in the league. That is even the essence of loving a team – you love them not based on their performance but on where you live or simply because they’re your team. I could EASILY abandon everything else and just follow my teams. In this day and age there is no shortage of info, stories, interviews and highlights to watch. It can be a full-time job, one I think sometimes I could do.
I could even be “MCM Guy”: in the last year or so, my interest in all things ‘Mid-Century Modern’ has peaked. This world is one of everything that was popular or cool in the 1950’s and ’60’s. The term actually applies to architecture and home furnishings but all areas of media and culture could be included. As far back as my pre-teens, I’ve always said I could wear some variation of a suit every day. When I got a job at McDonalds, my mom said ‘at least now you can wear a tie to work!’. It was a green polyester clip-on and always had food on it. I still lament the fact that you can’t go out in ties or cardigans without getting looked at strangely. I love the era when if a man was going to dig a ditch he’d ‘dress down’ to a pair of casual slacks and a sports shirt. I’ve had times in my life when every day I dressed like Ward Cleaver. When my oldest son was born I vowed he’d never wear a pair of jeans – “What is he? A Hobo!?”. There are many places online you can go to immerse yourself in the ‘cocktail nation’, the tiki and lounge scene. When I’m listening to Les Baxter and watching “Mad Men” this role seems the one I’m best suited to. But then of course that clashes with the guy that wants to wear an eye patch or flip flops or cowboy boots. See what I’m getting at?
So, you see? It’s problem. But it’s a great problem to have. It’s a problem because, for example, I won’t listen to oldies for a long time and then I’ll overhear one somewhere and I’ll say to myself ‘oh, I love that song. I must listen to oldies again. What’s wrong with me!? I love oldies! Why have I not listened to them in so long?!’. Well, buddy, it’s because you’ve been listening to jazz, or Elvis or cowboy music and it’s then that I’ll get frustrated and wish I didn’t love so many different things. There’s so much cool stuff that grabs my attention that it’s hard to devote much time to any one thing. What ends up happening actually is I’ll listen to certain types of music and watch certain movies or certain types of books at certain times of year. Some things I seem to enjoy more at specific times of year. But it’s great, too. I’ve never been one to worry or feel stress and one of the main reasons is that I’m constantly off in some land. I simply don’t worry about many things in life because I’m too busy listening to Koop Kooper and “The Cocktail Nation” or watching “Emergency!”. In the end it’s like the Temptations said: “I’m doing fine up here on cloud 9”.