I was watching a bit of Mystery Science Theater 3000 over the weekend. I used to be kind of an addict for the show. It does combine a lot of my loves: puppets, low budget films, silliness. It does suffer from one big problem — especially in the later years under Mike: it tends to put down the films as “bad.” But the films are not, in general, bad. As Mike has shown with his Riff Tracks, a great film can be mocked as easily as any other. It’s just that on MST3K, they were limited to low budget films because they had to buy the rights to them. Anyway, it is a minor complaint, but I’m very tired after all these years of hearing people claiming that a film is bad when it simply didn’t have a lot of resources. A lot of low budget “bad” films have far more creativity and wit than big budget films.

But in recent years, I’ve found another problem with the show: it’s hosted segments. These are the bits they do outside the theater during every other commercial break. They are often inspired and funny. One of my favorite examples is this bit, “Earth vs Soup”:

But more often than not, they miss. And even more important, they are never well crafted. They are clearly thrown together. For example, as much as I like “Earth vs Soup,” it’s an idea waiting for a writer. It is one of the longer hosted segments, but it barely mines the comic gold that is the idea of Crow trying to write one of those atomic age monster movies — except with soup. When they did the same thing with Crow’s idea of blaxploitation film, “Chocolate Jones and the Temple of Funk,” they didn’t even try:

Afros and a pimp hat? That’s it. Other than the title, which is brilliant, there is nothing there. The situation is even worse with the evil overlords. Dr Forrester and TV’s Frank work well enough, but the writing is always weak. It got even worse when Pearl took over. But I will admit, all the actors work really hard to get through the writing.

By far, the biggest problem with the hosted segments is that there is absolutely no effort to maintain the characters of Crow and Tom. The same problem exists with Gypsy, but she is gratefully not around enough to be much of a problem. And it is also true of Mike, but given he is always around the constantly changing Crow and Tom, it doesn’t stand out greatly.

The problem wasn’t that bad under Joel. But the longer the series went on, the more they reached for absolutely anything that they could fill up a minute or two of air time. So really, from segment to segment, Tom can change from an intellectual snob to a five year old. Crow tended to oscillate between good and bad id. But he became much less nice over time. In the first seasons, he’s kind of sweet. By the third season, when Joel asks him what he wants for Christmas, Crow says, “I want to decide who lives and dies!”

All this may seem petty, but actually, I like the characters. If you are going to have a television show, a big part of it is learning who the characters are. The hosted segments really should have used for that. And given that the hosted segments so often failed, they might as well have tried to create characters with some consistency. Not it stops me from loving the show. Here’s perhaps my favorite hosted segment:

Afterword

One other thing. With one exception, the puppetry on the show is annoyingly bad. For some reason that isn’t clear to me, Trace Beaulieu is actually quite a good puppeteer. I think he was a stand-up comic before the show. I assume he had no previous puppet experience. I don’t know what is wrong with everyone else. I assume that they just didn’t especially care. The soul of the show belonged to Joel Hodgson, but I’ve always thought a lot of it was Beaulieu as well (based on the credits).

In the film The Goodbye Girl, Richard Dreyfuss plays Elliot Garfield — an actor who has come to New York to play the title part in an off-off-Broadway production of Richard III. But he is displeased to find out that the director doesn’t want to do a traditional production. Why would he? This is a New York production, not something by the Tuscaloosa Summer Rep. Actually, even a summer rep group would be unlikely to do Richard III in the same old way. And the director’s idea is not terrible: he wants to make Richard homosexual. He wants to take Richard’s deformities as a metaphor.

Today, it would doubtless be seen as offensive to claim that somehow Richard’s psychopathy was actually related to his homosexuality. But better that than the weakling-homosexuality link of Edward II. And regardless, The Goodbye Girl was made in 1977. That’s only seven years after The Boys in the Band showed up on film. So even the one scene of Richard III that we see in the movie the way that the director supposedly wanted it is not that bad. Yes, it is a “flaming queen” stereotype. But who knows where it would have gone if the production had stayed with that. (Regardless, the ultimate fault is Neil Simon’s imagination.)

But instead of working with the director to create a more believable Richard, Elliot rebels. And the director gives in. So the production ends up as the worst thing it could possibly be. Now it has a “flaming queen” Richard who also has the club foot and hump. What is the point of such a production? Well, we know what the point is. It was to pacify a prima donna actor who is in no position to be one. He’s been working in Chicago. At the beginning of the movie, he is rightly grateful to have the part.

When I saw the film in the theater, I took Elliot’s side in it. I was only 13 years old. And the film expects the viewer to take Elliot’s side. But I no longer do. His lack of professionalism is staggering. It also seems unlikely that Elliot would have been hired for the part without some discussion of what the director planned for the play. But ultimately, the problem in the play is Elliot’s. He’s been hired to play the part and he’s unwilling to do it. It isn’t that he can’t do it. His greatest concern seems to be how he is going to look on stage.

Actors continue to amaze me, precisely because they are not like Elliot. I marvel at the fact that professional actors completely throw themselves into work that I would be embarrassed to be seen in. And this includes a lot of stuff that is fairly good. But standing up on stage is a very strange thing. So the one thing — the first thing — you would expect from an actor is their ability to throw themselves into a role. And Elliot is not willing to do that. He strikes me more like a Hollywood “star” than an actor.

What is his problem, anyway? Richard is not a nice guy. The first thing out of his mouth is his plan to have his brother murdered. He’s a psychopath. That’s somehow fine to be associated with. But a stereotypical gay man in the 1970s? That’s the bridge too far for Elliot? I could maybe understand this if his problem was that the character wasn’t real enough — but the standard Richard is hardly real — he’s a stock character, no more real than Snidely Whiplash. But Elliot’s problem seems to be what he can allow himself to be associated with.

All of this just makes Elliot a shallow person. But that’s probably good, because Paula McFadden — the Marsha Mason character — is this weird 1950s woman who shows up in the 1970s film. “I am going to be spending your money on our apartment”?! But whatever. The main point is that Richard III is a catastrophe in the film not because of the director, but because of Elliot himself. It mightn’t have worked anyway. But he assured it.

Did you watch the Academy Awards last night? I didn’t! I could not have cared less. First, I will tell you something that I learned when I was a sports handicapper: the film with the most nominations always wins Best Picture. Of course, there are often ties, as there was this year. But really: did you think the Academy was going to give Best Picture to Wes Anderson? It had to be Birdman. And that is no slight of Birdman — I haven’t seen it. And it is sometimes the case that the film that wins the Academy Award for Best Picture is a great picture. But it’s rare.

Take, for example, 1942 when the Best Picture went to How Green Was My Valley. Now it is a rather good film — not great but well worth watching. Still, that was the year of Citizen Kane. I know: an overrated film. But that’s only because it is so often claimed to be the greatest film ever made. Hell, it isn’t even close to the best film Orson Welles ever made! But it is unquestionably a great film — and the greatest film made in 1941. The point is, who will care that Birdman won the Academy Award in five years, much less 70?

My favorite is the 1980 Academy Awards. That was the big year for Kramer vs Kramer. I know what you’re thinking, “I though that was an after school special!” Only in content and quality, my friend. I was just reading about it and supposedly it was an important movie because we were all supposed to be shocked — Shocked, I tell you! — by divorce in 1979. What I mostly remember about it is the totally tacked on “happy” ending that nullifies the entire point of the film.

But I’ll be honest: Kramer vs Kramer is the ideal Hollywood film. It is the sort of thing that the Academy just can’t help but love. It’s an “issue” film. But not just an “issue” film — one that isn’t the slightest bit controversial. Oh yes, it took on the important issue of male single parenthood — an issue that even today is a pathetic and unbelievable cliche for a situation comedy. Just three years later, Author! Author! was savaged by the critics, although that may have had more to do with the fact that it wasn’t taking the issue “seriously.” At least The Courtship of Eddie’s Father had the decency to make the father the more realistic widower.

And what films lost to the sentimental tripe of Hollywood fantasy? A lot of far better films: Being There, Breaking Away, La Cage aux Folles, Manhattan, Norma Rae (a much more acceptable issue film), …And Justice for All, A Little Romance — to name but a few. But there were three undisputed great films that year. Let me list then in reverse order of their acceptability to the Academy.

The Tin Drum won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film. Rightly so. It is an amazing film, but hard to describe — a surreal epic. In addition to its being a unique, and thus un-Oscar worthy, film, it has a lot of sex in it — incest and pseudo-pedophilia. It’s the kind of thing that the Academy can accept coming from Europe, but the film would never have been mentioned at the Academy Awards had it been made by Americans.

Apocalypse Now continues to be a film that people go back to. I just don’t think anyone ever says, “Hey, I feel like seeing Kramer vs Kramer again!” But they do say that about Apocalypse Now. I’m not a huge fan of the movie, but there is no question of its greatness. And if it was Milius’ idea to set Heart of Darkness in Vietnam, all I can say is that he never read the novel. Still, Francis Coppola’s direction is amazing and he manages to create something of eternal power.

The film I still think should have won the Best Picture Oscar was All That Jazz. It is a fantastic film — Bob Fosse’s best (which is saying something). I don’t really know what to say about it, other than that it isn’t 8½ — it is far better. If you want to know what I think about it, read, All That Fosse. The main point here is that Kramer vs Kramer is nothing compared to it.

So people can watch the Academy Awards, but I won’t. I didn’t even know it was happening until The New York Times started sending me updates about it. So Hollywood’s biggest night has come — a night of great pretense where the industry shows that it is all about commodity — where it is clear it wouldn’t know a work of art if Michelangelo’s David were shipped to the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood and carried down the red carpet.

I saw Edward Norton on All In talking about the 40 year anniversary of Saturday Night Live. I should be clear about my position on this: I could not possibly care less. There are mosiqutos being swatted in the swamps of Louisiana that I care about more. I certainly did watch it in its early years. And I do mean its early years. I was raised by people who would today be called bad parents who had no problem with my staying up until one in the morning. But I always thought that SCTV (Second City Television) was far superior to SNL. This might seem strange because most of the stars of each show came out of the same place: The Second City. So why did SNL fail so much more than it succeeded?

I think the problem was Lorne Michaels — or at least his production staff. Rather than build something, the show constantly depended upon hiring talent that did a single character. The character was funny — no writing was required. The best example of this was Julia Sweeney. Let’s be clear: she’s a comedic genius. I love her. But the only thing that SNL could ever find for her to do that was at all interesting was the annoyingly androgynous Pat. And that is the linchpin to the “magic” that is SNL.

During the first season, the show had seven cast members plus the only person who was truly amazing in those early years, Michael O’Donoghue. Now every time I see the opening of SNL I’m shocked at the dozens of cast members. Again, it’s the “Oh, you do one thing? Join the cast!” philosophy of the show. If SNL is on for another 40 years, I figure it will be an hour and twenty-five minutes of cast introduction followed by a single skit that makes one long for the mediocrity of Chevy Chase.

What really struck me about Norton’s interview was his claim about what a big happy family the people are who make Saturday Night Live. I am at a distinct disadvantage in believing this. First, there is the fact that people like Edward Norton and other stars are about as truthful during these interviews as Bill Clinton was when Hillary first brought up Monica Lewinsky. But even more, I’ve read a lot about the show — several books. They present a rather different picture of the show. It is one in which everyone hates everyone else and is jealous of everyone’s success. They fight viciously to get the better writers to create things for them and to get their own work featured. In other words, SNL is the perfect example of everything you’ve heard about what horrible people comedians are.

If you want to get a good idea of this, I suggest that you check out the director’s commentary of any Christopher Guest film ever. Guest — or as his friends call him, Christopher Haden-Guest, 5th Baron Haden-Guest — is very clearly a miserable bastard. I’m really quite amazed that he hasn’t killed himself. It must be that royal blood — a form of noblesse oblige. Then again, maybe he’s a decent guy and just one season working on Saturday Night Live will do that to you.

Regardless, let’s not make a big deal about Saturday Night Live. In an international context, it is an embarrassment. Is it supposed to be our Monty Python? God help us if that’s so. But most of all, let’s not romanticize the show as though it is some happy place where all the kids get together to “put on a show!” It’s corporate entertainment — moderately funny at its best. And it’s survived because it hasn’t had to compete with Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert and The Dick Cavett Show.

Afterword

I would remind anyone who thinks I’m being overly hard on SNL that I have a long history of complaining about the show. My biggest complaint all along is that it has lowered the quality of comedy writing in the United States. I don’t doubt for a second the quality of the acting talent on the show. But again, that’s what corporate media are good at: looking around and finding onscreen talent. But at no time did anyone think that writing quality comedy was important. The show had two options: go with the cutting edge of Michael O’Donoghue or go with well crafted comedy. Instead, it went with poorly crafted comedy designed to never offend: the worst of all worlds!