An Evening without Hank Azaria

Much an improvement on Eric Idle’s earlier Montalban production — a bunch of ringers performing Rutles material — “An Evening Without Monty Python” answers the unasked question: will audiences accept a series of beloved, almost overly-familiar landmarks of British sketch comedy performed by none of the original cast, and with only one genuine Brit among the performers?

The answer, which should please all the financially-participating Pythons, is: “absolutely.” With only a limited number of performances scheduled in Los Angeles and New York City, my guess is that Idle has bus-and-truck, community and dinner theater productions in mind. Lots of them.

Of course it may be difficult to find farceurs as skilled as this bunch, which may be difficult.

Hank Azaria, originally announced, pulled out of the production for a better gig (the currently-filming “Love and Other Drugs”), a fact unmentioned in Tuesdays lengthy Los Angeles Times feature on the show. That said, it’d be hard to imagine that he’d have done any better than his excellent replacement, Jeff B. Davis.

Jane Leeves, the British actress I first saw as “Blue,” the punk receptionist in the syndicated sitcim “Throb” (what — you don’t remember? Diana Canova? Jonathan Prince?) appears here as a full member of the cast, though of course all the original Pythons were (and remain) male. She fit in very well, even performing in drag for a couple of sketches.

As for the Americans — well, Stateside actors love doing “British” accents almost as much as U.S. television and film producers love casting Brits and Australians to play Americans.

The music seems to be prerecorded, which is something of a cheat, but probably results in a better sound mix than would have been possible with a live band. A couple of totally unnecessary (and, to me, not all that funny) local and timely references were inserted. And there’s a small amount of audience involvement, some more rewarding than the rest on Wednesday night.

Sure, the show was a lot of fun, and yes, it was definitely on the short side — I figure about 1′20″, including a single encore but with no intermission. It moved exceedingly quickly, which I found amazing for what was announced as their first performance in front of an audience (which is to say, Wednesday was a preview). I’d see it again in a minute.

And it’s nice to see Monty Python routines where the laughter doesn’t come from an ancient BBC tape loop.

Almost (and just by a hair) as funny as the Python program is Ricardo Montalban’s prerecorded “turn off your cell phones” announcement. Take your seats early, so’s not to miss it.

The Moody River story

John Fogerty’s new album is out, and it’s a collection of his versions of (for the most part) old rock and country numbers.

There are a couple of susprises, for those who think they know Fogerty’s taste. “Garden Party” isn’t one — he’s enough of a Rick Nelson fan to have given the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction speech.

But John Denver? Yes, evidently. Fogerty performs “Back Home Again.”

But what brings the album up here is Fogerty’s rendition of “Moody River,” a song first popularized by an early teen idol.

As Fogerty mentioned to L.A. Times guy Randy Lewis in an interview promoting the album,

“If the choice was between Elvis and Pat Boone in the ’50s, I guess you know which side I came down on,” Fogerty said, a wry smile coming to his lips. “But ‘Moody River’ is a great song, and Pat sang his butt off on that one.”

I have some familiarity with the song; it’s history is a story (originally published in my notes for a Bear Family box set that may even surprise Fogerty.

Gary Bruce was a young Nashville singer who worked on a weekly variety show hosted by disc jockey Noel Ball. Frank Slay was a record producer out of Philadelphia (his hits included Silhouettes by The Rays and all of Freddy Cannon’s singles), who had started his own Southern Sounds label, and was in town looking “for a young man, 19-20 years old, to sign to his label”, says Bruce.

“It was along about the time the Everly Brothers had ‘Ebony Eyes’ and Mark Dinning had ‘Teen Angel.’ Noel said if I could write a death song that was tasteful, I’d have a smash. And that’s what I came up with.”

Ball suggested a meeting with Slay. A recording session ensued, which came to halt when Bruce kept popping the “p” on the phrase “more deadly than the sharpest knife.” He rewrote the phrase on the spot. That the result – “more deadly than the vainest knife” – didn’t make any sense didn’t seem to hurt anything. Bruce’s single, issued as by Chase Webster, failed to hit outside of Nashville. Pat continues the story:

“Noel Ball in Nashville told me about the Chase Webster record, and suggested it to me. Milt [Rogers] arranged it a little higher than my key so I wouldn’t sound croonerish; more desperate. . After the session, I went over to a friend’s house with Shirley. When we were saying goodbye, KFWB was in the background, and I heard the intro – I said ‘wait, I’ve been doing that song all afternoon!’

[Dot Records chief] Randy [Wood] had cut an acetate and took it to [program director] Chuck Blore, who liked it and made it pick hit if he could he could have it as an exclusive for a week. I’m not home from the studio from recording this thing, and it was pick hit of the week on one of the biggest stations in the country. That was when the music business was interesting and exciting.”

Bruce says that Randy Wood, ever conscientious, had called Noel Ball to verify the lyric. Subsequently, radio stations ran contests, Pat says, with listeners guessing that kind of knife he was referring to. As for Pat, “It didn’t make any sense to me – I just sang it the way he wrote it.”

Moody River has been used on film soundtracks including ‘The Last Boy Scout.’ And, of all of Pat Boone’s hits that Frank Sinatra might choose to record, Moody River is one that he actually did.

Mr. Erskine, meet Ms. Banks

Something momentous occurred in the life of Los Angeles Times columnist Sandy Banks the other day. She’s pleased to
share it with her readers in today’s paper.

I remembered from my first go-round to bring necessities not listed in the college dormitory’s move-in guide: plastic hangers, scented drawer liners, tools to un-jam a balky closet door.

But what I didn’t remember when my daughter and I arrived last week at San Francisco State is how difficult it can be to drop off your kid, leave campus and get on with your life.

I’d been through the drill in 2003 with my oldest daughter. Then, we wandered wide-eyed through every reception and information session that Stanford offered. Two days later, we said tearful goodbyes and I headed home, confident that my child would be well cared for.

This time, my youngest daughter and I joined an endless sea of families jostling for 20-minute parking spots to unload computers and microwaves and cases of water bottles. Then we hauled our stuff up four flights of stairs.

And it struck me that if Stanford was a village, this was a city. And I was about to leave behind an 18-year-old who was pawing through our carefully packed boxes for the teddy bear she’d had since she was a baby…

I wonder if she ever chats with fellow Times columnist Chris Erskine, who writes in another of today’s sections:

Our Pickett’s Charge into the Midwest is a roaring success. We drop off the little girl at a fine school that, for a mere 30 or 40 grand, will keep tabs on her for an entire academic year. Good deal, I say. Heck, she spends that much on Starbucks.

“I’d have paid more,” I tell Posh.

“We don’t have any more,” she says.

“Oh.”

By the way, if you’re taking a daughter to college soon, might I recommend renting one of those C-130 transport planes, a whopping-big aircraft with abundant trunk space. That’s what we did, and it took us only two round-trip flights.

The first load was entirely shoes. The second trip was scarves and scrapbooks. We shipped the rest ahead of time (thanks, UPS!).

Not since the Berlin Airlift has the world experienced anything like this. Evidently, freshman year now requires four tons of clothes, hangers, little clutch purses, cheap IKEA storage units, tape dispensers, tennis rackets, silverware, ramen noodles, gauze. I swear, Posh and I were married 20 years before we accumulated this much junk…

I’d written not so long ago about the seeming failure of Times editors to keep track of what’s coming up in their papers. If they had, wouldn’t it make sense to run the two columns together — or at least to cross-reference them?

If the Los Angeles Times goes out of business, don’t shoot the messenger!

The copy of the Los Angeles Times that floated to my doorstep this morning was 56 pages, total. This includes the front, business, sports and “Calendar” (entertainment) sections.

What it doesn’t include is a blow-in advertisement supplement that’s been a Tuesday tradition.

And I think I may have something to do with that.

About a month ago, I looked in my local (less than a mile away) Ralphs supermarket; they were offering some pretty good prices on a couple of items I liked. When I got to the store, much higher prices were marked on the aisles — unusual, as the sale prices are usually displayed.

Several days later, I came with the ad in hand, and showed it to one of the clerks. She seemed surprised and puzzled — yes, the ad was for the current week — and took it to the manager. He said it had nothing to do with his store; but, to his credit, honored those prices anyway.

I then emailed Ralphs, who called me back a few days later.

I explained that while the top third or so of the ad promoted a new store opening in the San Fernando Valley (quite some distance from me), there was no indications that the prices were for that store only. And if they were, why would the ad be distributed in Hollywood?

The customer service person had no answer, but said she’d pass along the information.

Next week, the prices in the supplement were the same as those in my store.

Last week, the top of the ad also promoted the store; and, again, the advertised prices didn’t match those in my store.

It took me a while — two weeks — but at last, and with a little help, I figured it out.

I’m the only person in my apartment building who subscribes to The Times. I have no idea why I do, these days, other than inertia; but that’s subject for another, and continuing, discussion.

The ads — for Ralphs and a number of other companies, including supermarkets, car tune-up places and so on — are packaged by a company called RedPlum. They’re organized to the degree that those of us who don’t get their ads in the paper, get them in the mail. And vice-versa; I don’t get ‘em in the mail.

Last week, when I got the second “wrong” ad, I looked at a copy someone had received in the mail and thrown away. It was for Ralphs, but a different ad, and one not featuring the Studio City location. I took it to the store, and the sale prices matched.

Clearly, the wrong edition of the RedPlum/Ralphs supplement was being inserted in my copy of the Times. Could I be only my copy? It seems so, in that the store manager and the customer service person had seemed so surprised when I brought it to their attention the first week. Could I be the only person in a fairly wide area who (a) subscribes to The Times and (b) pays any attention to ads for the biggest supermarket chain in Southern California? Evidently so. I mentioned as much to the Ralphs customer service person.

In the same paper, in the RedPlum folder, was a single sheet ad for the package. It read, in part:

Look in your mailbox for RedPlum savings. Plan your shopping list with the circulars inside and come ready to save. See what’s on sale that these grocery stores: Ralphs, Albertsons, Smart & Final, Pavilions, Food4Less…

Effective August 4, these circulars will be delivered primarily by mail. The following newspapers will also include the RedPlum package:

…and then it lists nine regional papers, none of which are The Los Angeles Times.

Today came the condensed paper; no RedPlum insert. There was one, however, in my mailbox.

Did Ralphs decide that the wrongly distributed ad was not only not worth what they paid too have it distributed, but bad for the company’s image with customers?

They wouldn’t tell me, of course.

But I do know that The Times has suffered the loss of such out-of-business grocery chains as Lucky, Hughes, Mayfair, and Safeway; and department stores the Broadway, May Company, Buffums, Robinson’s, Montgomery Ward, and he like; home electronic stores Good Guys and Circuit City (also Pacific Stereo, University Stereo and such relics of the ’70s). Then there’s the classified advertising they’ve lost to the Internet.

They really could use RedPlum. Let’s see how long it takes them to get their act together.

You can say that again!

A “budget” is newspaper talk for a list of what’s being prepared for the upcoming issue. Editors can see what other people are working on, decide which stories get the more prominent placement, and so on.

Evidently, the budget has been a casualty in the Los Angeles Times’s effort to save money — along with eliminating sections, decimating staff, raising prices, and so on.

In today’s “Business” section, there’s a reasonably long piece by staff reporter David Colker, dealing with runpee.com.

Just when you thought the Internet provided every possible information service, along comes Runpee.com.

The website lists current movies in theaters, and suggests points in the action during which you could quickly run to the restroom without missing anything substantial.

For example, let’s say you’re watching “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince” and feeling the need. Runpee (which almost sounds like the name of a character in the movie) suggests that you hold on until minute 33, at which point “Dumbledore says, ‘Off to bed, pip-pip.’ “

Or, the site suggests, you could wait until 1 hour and 47 minutes, when “Harry invites Professor Slughorn to go and see Hagrid with him…”

Same paper; same issue; “Calendar” section; lengthy Associated Press story:

New York — The mid-movie dash to the restroom can turn us into calculating Usain Bolt wannabes: Ah, this looks like a lull — time to dash.

When we return to our seats, we pray the answer to “What did I miss?” isn’t “Darth Vader is really Luke’s father” or “the girlfriend is really a guy.”

The website RunPee.com can help with such anxious guesswork.

The site provides recommended opportunities to race to the restroom. It tells you when the action or romance wanes, and gives you a cue (“Baby O.J. is taken from Bruno”) for your exit.

The site tells you how long you’ve got and even summarizes what you missed. Since early July, RunPee.com is available as an iPhone app too.

Launched last August, RunPee took off earlier this summer. It’s been one of the season’s runaway hits — a clever idea that has spawned a lot of word-of-mouth from moviegoers.

“Helping your bladder enjoy going to the movies as much as you do,” the site boasts.

It was created by Dan Florio, a 42-year-old Flash developer who got the idea during the three-hour-plus “King Kong” remake in 2005…

You’d think, wouldn’t you, that someone at the paper would know what’s in it before it went to press; especially since all the stories are laid out in that “budget” thing.

I’d speculated, above, that the budget was a recent casualty. Sadly, though, duplication of stories, even in the same issue, is a Times tradition. Enough so that if someone in Editorial would actually pay attention to what was going into the paper, over the years they might save enough money to hire a copy editor or two.