Must See Streaming TV Project: Insight (1960-1985)

 

If you follow any of my social media, you've probably seen my recent posts on TV movies streaming on Amazon Prime. I have found a gazillion amazing TVMs and the feedback on my posts has been quite positive, so I'm extending this project to cover an intriguing syndicated religious television series called Insight.

I've been interested in Insight for some time now, and actually did a bit of research on it many years ago, in the hopes I could write something about it. Unfortunately, that research and time have slipped away from me. But recently, I noticed that episodes began appearing on YouTube, in what looks like legal channels.

*Just a note: I realize there is an amazing amount of content online, available through many different means, but I only want to promote product I think is being streamed by the proper rights holders. It might stem from working at the Directors Guild for so many years that I've been trained to do this, but I think it's important we support the people who may be in charge of getting these things out into a physical format, properly cleaned up and with extras, if possible. I certainly don't discourage anyone from watching what they can where they can (your passion for classic TV and telefilms is why I'm here), but I will only promote the legal streams.

That said, OMG, guys! Insight is online and looking great. The YouTube page looks to be run by Paulist Productions and it just appeared recently and is constantly uploading new episodes! So, I've decided to pick an episode, probably on a bimonthly basis, and do a short capsule review with an image or two. Hopefully I can dig up enough trivia as a way to provide a little production history to this fascinating and long running series.

I'll be adding every review to this post, and my picks will be random, but I'll list them in alphabetical order. Hopefully I can put together a decent catalog, with access to every episode Paulist Productions uploads. Call me a classic TV freak, but honestly it's exciting.

So, as I said, my previous research kind of went by the wayside, so let me tell you what little I remember about the show. Insight was created by a priest named Ellwood E. "Bud" Kieser. It's my understanding that he was interested in non-denominational preaching, and this series ran the gamut of episodes that felt either like The Twilight Zone or an ABC Afterschool Special. They could be really surreal, or sometimes they were based in the very real. It could be faith-based, but often it was driven by social issues. And the class of actors was astounding. I think Martin Sheen is in a huge amount of episodes, but you'll also see Bob Newhart, Jack Klugman James Farentino, Bill Bixby, Patty Duke and Cicely Tyson, among many others.

I'll be researching the series as I go along, and I hope I can dig up some interesting nuggets for everyone. This is a work in progress, and I'm unsure of the exact layout (i.e. will trivia go with an episode or get its own section, etc.), but I think it will be fun.

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*One final note: It probably means nothing, but just to clarify, I'm not particularly religious, although I love faith based television. (Confession: I was a die hard Touched by an Angel fan!) I think these kinds of shows are really fascinating, especially when they are more driven by social issues. This is all to say, I won't do any proselytizing here. I only want to look back at the historical and cultural impact of the series. Whatever your belief system, I hope you come along for the ride!  

So let's get started!

All the Little Plumes in Pain (OAD: September 17th, 1967, episode #193, reviewed June 21, 2020): A young but square attorney finds himself in the middle of the counterculture movement when he attempts to lure his friend Jenny (Celia Kaye) out of Haight-Ashbury. Her friends don't want to let her go, but what looks like a clash of cultures soon becomes an understanding of love, friendship and family as the straight-laced lawyer finds he may have underestimated Jenny's hippie circle.

Original newspaper listing

All the Little Plumes of Pain is surprising in how it takes an affectionate view of the hippie movement. While there is talk of drug use (and talk against it), overall the counterculture characters are portrayed as offbeat but good. The lawyer, played by Guy Stockwell (looking so young and dapper!) is also a good person whose main concern is to simply facilitate a young woman's reunion with her parents. However, his tactics are more obvious, and somewhat corrupt. Jenny is underage so he threatens to shut down the printing press she helps to run, which would lead to an eviction of everyone else who lives in that humble space they've carved out for themselves. He also attempts to bribe the group. He is taken aback when he sees them holding a small service dedicated to God, and shocked when they return his threats with love. In the end, the little plumes in pain are Stockwell and others like him, caught up in the monkey-suit-nine-to-five existence that leaves them condemning and community and friendships that seem different from the norm.

Directed by one of my favorite small screen filmmakers, John Newland (Don't Be Afraid of the Dark), this would be the first time Newland worked with Kaye. She also appears in a Young Lawyers episode he directed, and she is featured in Newland's aforementioned small screen monster classic Don't Be Afraid of the Dark. She's quite lovely and puts in a measured performance as the lonely little girl just looking for purpose and love. However, while Jenny is the central character, this episode belongs to Stockwell and Prine who quietly battle over the young woman. Jenny makes the decision that is right for her needs, but both choices offer hope for her future. The ending shot of one of the hippies playing hopscotch (something they do throughout the episode) is given some depth when Prine explains, "Hopsotch is just a game. A game you play trying to get around the squares." It leaves a sort of eerie open-endedness to the episode I wasn't expecting. Newland does it again!

 
Checkmate (OAD: November 13th, 1979, episode #421, reviewed May 12th, 2019): Checkmate is a quirky entry into Insight. It's about a guy named Andy (Bruce Davison) looking for the perfect mate (as it were). And, with an emphasis on the word "perfect." So, it might not be a surprise that he turns to a fembot named Gally (Rebecca Balding) in his search for true love. But soon Andy realizes how one-sided love can be when your definition of "perfection" is to have a partner who only lives for you.

Original newspaper listing, a little spicy!

Clearly this is a comedy, and a fun one at that. Checkmate was directed by Jay Sandrich (Mary Tyler Moore, Soap), and written by Lan O'Kun (Love, American Style, Love Boat), It makes its point with both a heavy hand and a light touch. It takes a sweet, offbeat approach, gently guiding viewers to the inevitable, and possibly predictable conclusion. But, it also has characters named T. Lord, and you can see where that is going. God needs to step in and guide Andy... a lot. Still, the message is good. Let go of the idea of perfection, and you may actually find something better.

Checkmate has a cast so amazing I wouldn't have even cared if there was a story! Davison is one of the greats, always interesting and captivating. Efrem Zimbalist Jr. is cut from a similar cloth, and is a treat. But most importantly, Rebecca Balding is a queen. I have been in love with / terrified of her since I first saw her on Soap. Even as a female cyborg that is supposed to be the perfect woman (by way of a very 1950s ideology of that definition), she's strong and captivating. Sweet, but never empty, Gally is more than just a physically beautiful robot, there is beauty within her. It's easy to understand why Andy falls for her. Her human form is also sweet, but different from her robot form, flawed and challenging but real. And it's simply a lovely performance. This entry into Insight is just delightful!

The Day God Died (OAD: July 13, 1969, episode #212, reviewed June 21, 2020): This episode begins with my beloved Lloyd Bochner reporting the news that God has died. While his death didn't create havoc in the streets, there were a number of suicides reported. Those who studied, but didn't necessarily practice religion viewed this "death" as the end of an image, but nothing more than that. A group of these scholars are at a memorial service for God, "celebrating" his image and lamenting what may replace him. During the course of the party, most guests are revealed to be in the midst of different personal crisis, to have a lack in faith, and in general go about acting selfishly. The end reveal suggests that the death of God means the death of humanity.

A brief newspaper notice highlighting how The Day God Died 
opened up a dialogue about the current state of religion

Known for being whimsical, thoughtful and sometimes dark, audiences were probably never sure what they'd get when they turned into Insight every week. A large chunk of the episodes didn't mention religion at all, while others were heavily focused on exploring theological issues that were relevant to the era. Just based on the title, it is obvious this one is going right for the religious jugular, and does a terrific job of showcasing many different minor storylines while guiding the viewer to the ultimate terrifying conclusion. The excellent screenplay by James E. Moser somehow manages to view these characters and their acts in a non-judgmental way, while also condemning them for letting go of faith.

The cast is crazy amazing! I've already mentioned Bochner, but you will also feast your eyes on the likes of Diana Muldaur (looking so beautiful I couldn't take my eyes off of her), Mariette Hartley, Beverly Garland, Efrem Zimbalist Jr., Carrol O'Connor and Roger Perry, among others. Unlike some of my favorite episodes, this is not an upbeat entry, but it is thoughtful and intriguing and definitely moving into that Twilight Zone structure of storytelling. Dark as night, but also strangely heartfelt and genuine in its attempt to not be overly heavy-handed. Also, there a bit of gruesome imagery at the end. Thoughtful, and worth seeing.

Little Miseries (OAD: November 15th, 1981, episode #440, reviewed July 7, 2019): I probably don't have to tell you why I chose this episode. Well, I'll give you four words: John Ritter and Audra Lindley! Yes, Jack Tripper and Mrs. Roper joined forces once again to add a little, ummm, insight into the human condition. The story is simple: Ritter is Frankie, a sweet confirmed bachelor who is surrounded by some seriously negative vibes that come in the guise of Aunt Carmela (Lindley) and Uncle Christopher (Edward Andrews). Carmela introduces Frankie to the lovely and seemingly happy Donna (Stephanie Faracy, who played Ritter's ex-wife in the 1990s TVM Thriller No Way Out), and the chemistry seems to be just right, only Donna is dying of leukemia and doesn't have much longer to live.

The casting of John Ritter made the news! (although this was for a 1982 rerun)

I've always be fascinated with the many different ways you can give such dark moments of our lives a lighter touch, and Little Miseries, which was written by Ben Elisco (whose only other writing credit was for WKRP in Cincinnati), manages to tackle a really tough issue with a sense of hope and even sweetness. Frankie's relatives live in a "gloom" (as Frankie puts it), but they think that's helping him prepare for the more difficult moments in life. And that perhaps disappointment will fuel change or at least action. The dialog is a mixture of morbid humor along with some rather poignant thoughts about what the darkness is and that those who live there do so because it's easier to hide. But the introduction of Donna into Frankie's life allows him to finally see a light.

This is a lovely, but strange episode. There's a twist at the end that makes Carmela seem rather cruel. But, at the same time the discovery and confrontation of her lie allows her to open up and finally reveal why she's trying to harden Frankie. It throws the episode off a bit, but Ritter and Lindley are so good, you just want to sit back and watch. So, not perfect, but pretty darn good and worth seeing just for Ritter, who can never disappoint.

  
The Prisoner (OAD: May 6th, 1965, episode #140, reviewed May 26, 2019): I chose this episode because of the still image used on the upload, which features Jack Klugman wearing an eye patch and holding a puppy (see image posted above in the intro for a sample)! I guess I couldn't have predicted how moving and harrowing The Prisoner was going to be.

Klugman plays a man named Weiss, and he's spending a rainy day at the pet shop, buying a puppy. The pet store owner is named Ben (no name given in the IMDb credits), and he has come to loathe rainy days because they remind him of his time in Auschwitz. After getting into a argument with Weiss, Ben finds out that Weiss was also a prisoner at the same camp, and had associated with a man named Maximilian Kolbe (Werner Klemper playing a prisoner about 4 months before he would become Col. Klink on Hogan's Heroes!), a Polish friar who opposes the Nazis at every turn. Kolbe is constantly beaten for his rebelling and his cell mates seem to either love him or hate him for it. He plots an escape for a fellow prisoner, but when it is revealed that someone has fled Auschwitz, the Nazis decide that one of the men left behind should starve to death as punishment.

This is an intense episode, and based on real events. Kolbe was a real man who offered his life in order to save another.  The Prisoner dances fairly elegantly around the question of why a God, who is supposed to be all loving and all knowing, would let something like the Nazi uprising happen under his watch. There are no answers, only a chance to feel hope in the darkest of situations, and to maybe understand that there is still good in the world. Kolbe's ultimate sacrifice at the end allows Weiss to open his mind and heart and to also not let this experience dictate his ability to believe in a God.

An original newspaper listing for the episode

In lesser hands, this could have been really heavy handed, but the filmmakers don't offer obvious answers. And, the acting is wonderful. Klugman, of course, flourished in these kinds of one-off roles he seemed to often do on TV. Klemper is a bit of a revelation too. I didn't recognize him at first, and I'm not sure I'd really seen him in a drama before. He's deft and subtle, and his scenes with Klugman are just terrific.

I want to just pull a quote from The Prisoner that I was really taken by, and which expresses why I feel Insight is such an amazing show. At the end of the episode Weiss says to Ben, "No one can alter the truth. All we can do is seek it, find it and try to live it." Great storytelling, and a really wonderful entry into the Insight series.

When, Jenny? When? (OAD: February 1st, 1979, episode #806, reviewed April 21st, 2019): This may be one of the most famous episodes of Insight. I can see why. It's Afterschool Special all the way, and it features Maureen McCormick as a beautiful teenager whose low self-esteem has given her a notorious rep at school. This episode features Jeff East, Clark Brandon and Olive Cole, and was directed by Ted Post (Five Desperate Women, The Baby, and lots of other great movies). In terms of episodic television, Post's name is probably more aligned with The Twilight Zone, but he directed several episodes of Insight. Like he did with the 1972 telefilm Sandcastles, Post directs When, Jenny? When? with a lot of sensitivity and tenderness. Aside from tackling self-esteem, this episode also explores peer pressure, self-identity, and my favorite topic, the loneliness of difference.

Original newspaper listing

The story is told both through Jenny's (McCormick) experiences and how she recounts those experiences with her high school counselor (Cole). What I appreciate about the episode is how it shows how desperate Jenny is to be loved by giving sex freely, but the act itself is not judged (she says sex feels good and she's told she can wear white at her wedding if she wants). But it is analyzed, and Jenny realizes that if she wants to truly be loved, she has to love herself first, and that means standing up for herself. Although it has to be quickly resolved in 22 minutes or so, When, Jenny? When? is handled with taste and thought. Also, Jenny's got a great theme song which helps move things along! Overall, the Afterschool Special approach gave me all the feels. I loved it.

Hollywood Television Theater: The Scarecrow (1972)

Network: PBS
Original Airdate: January 10th, 1972

When Percy MacKaye wrote his play The Scarecrow in 1908, he only meant for his audience to make the loosest connections to its obvious inspiration, Nathaniel Hawthorne’s short story Feathertop. Admittedly, even MacKaye would have a hard time denying the liberal doses he borrowed from Hawthorne’s story about a witch who creates a man out of a scarecrow, sending him off to woo a wealthy, impressionable young woman. But, it is in the metaphor itself that MacKaye drew on something distinct, softening Hawthorne’s condemnation of the class system and of humanity in general.

 Hawthorne’s work was often heavily tinged in the surreal, and Feathertop is no exception, mixing supernatural mischief and morality in a way that made the story unique and still oh-so-Hawthorne in the commentary. Feathertop sought to expose people for what they were, and to recognize the irony with which they live their own life, as well as how they choose to judge others (Hawthorne uses the word “trash” to compare the makeup of the scarecrow and that of the human race). Ending the tale with Feathertop returning to its original scarecrow form, Hawthorne surmised that an inanimate object was better off in effigy than had it continued to live as a man. However, MacKaye went down a far more sentimental route, making our scarecrow (named Lord Ravensbane in human form) a sympathetic and sad character whose happiness is only derived when he dies a mortal man. The 1972 Hollywood Television Theater production of The Scarecrow upholds the poignancy of MacKaye’s tale. Although, it also highlights some of the whimsical satire Hawthorne embraced and which MacKaye slyly inserted. It is most noted in a party scene where the upper echelon are eager to welcome Lord Ravensbane’s eccentric character into their wealthy fold, but then are just as quick to disown him, even when the truth of his original form leaves him heartbroken and humiliated.

Hollywood Television Theater was a series that aired on local PBS affiliates throughout the United States from 1970-1978. It was conceived by KCET in Los Angeles and that channel capitalized on its location and accessibility to recognizable faces, casting several high profile actors to appear in their productions. Their debut adaptation of The Anderson Trial starred William Shatner, and Martin Sheen (and was directed by George C. Scott!). Other productions featured Earl Holliman (Montserrat, 1972), Joseph Bottoms (Winesburg, Ohio, 1973) and David Hedison (For the Use of the Hall, 1975). According to Adapting Nathaniel Hawthorne to the Screen: Forging New Worlds, this series sought to give audiences an alternative to the cookie cutter world of television of this era. They brought all kinds of heavy hitting playwrights to the show, including Anton Chekhov (Two By Chekov, 1972) and Arthur Miller (Incident at Vichy, 1973). The directors were often well known journeymen such as Boris Sagal, who directed this entry, but actors, like the aforementioned Scott came into the role too, and prominent performers such as Lee Grant (For the Use of the Hall), and Rip Torn (Two By Chekov) took on the heady productions.

Sagal was a Russian born filmmaker who moved from theatricals to telefilms to episodics on a regular basis. With this production, he keeps things simple, while adding shades of flair along the way. Since it wasn’t shot in front of a live audience, the director threw in a few simple effects that, along with its muted shot-on-video pallor, give the play a substantial measure of filmic surrealism that keeps the viewer a little off-kilter as the play progresses.

At this stage in the history of PBS, the network found itself under fire by certain politicians who thought too much government money went into producing television (sound familiar?). So, PBS sought out a mawkish and mainstream title, and The Scarecrow is now considered one of the lesser adaptations to come out of the series. However, it was also a sorely needed entry, balancing out the edgier fare to appease the mostly upper middle class audience’s more conservative ideologies. It’s a bit ironic that this play sometimes lampoons the types of people most associated the PBS viewership, and also most known for condemning it.

The critics at the time were mixed on their thoughts. Henry Mitchell of the Washington Post wrote, “Nothing in the play is very far developed or very carefully worked out, and the sad result was a shiny-wrapped but none too meaty TV dinner, half-baked.” Conversely, Cecil Smith of the Los Angeles Times quite enjoyed it, calling The Scarecrow a “stunning production” that stepped out of “academic mustiness.” However, Smith also criticized the plush production as maybe a little too expensive for what is intended to be a modest television series, thereby giving greedy politicians a decent arguing point.

Certainly some good money went into the absolutely magnificent cast, which features Blythe Danner, Will Geer, Norman Lloyd, Nina Foch, Elisha Cook, Sian Barbara Allen and an electrifying Gene Wilder as Lord Ravensbane. Wilder’s physical take on manifesting from his original scarecrow state to that of a man, and learning to grow emotionally in that capacity is spellbinding. The scene where he attempts to call out to his mother is both disturbing and sympathetic. And although Ravensbane is definitely the oddest ball in the house, it’s easy to see how the vulnerable and sensitive Rachel (Danner) could fall for his quirky charms.

Pete Duel plays Ravensbane’s nemesis Richard Talbot, the man who has already claimed beautiful Rachel’s hand. Duel is the most under-the-radar actor in the cast, and his delivery feels more tailored for television, as compared to the bigger performances. But it is exhilarating in its own way, anchoring some of the play’s more outlandish moments. There’s also a touch of relatable humanity there. Talbot is jealous but logical and thoughtful, and by the conclusion, empathetic towards his enemy, and ultimately there for him at the end. It’s an interesting yin-yang relationship that could have been explored on a deeper level.

 
Nevertheless, the end product is both intriguing and delightful. At times a little posh and chaotic perhaps, but also earnestly produced, and extremely well acted. It might lack the morality lesson of a Hawthorne classic, but in an era of unrest and during the Vietnam War, The Scarecrow offers audiences a chance to realize that humanity is a virtue and yes, the scarecrow doesn’t just have a brain, he also has a heart.

This blog post was inspired by an upcoming Australian film journal from Lee Gambin and his film collective CineManiacs. The first issue is dedicated to scarecrows and I wrote about Dark Night of the Scarecrow, and interviewed Jeff Burr about his direct-to-video slasher Night of the Scarecrow. Keep an eye on my social media channels for updates on the release of the journal! 

Staying AfterSchool with Lance Guest

It's so difficult not to gush here. I'm a life long lover of Lance Guest, having discovered him as a teenager in The Last Starfighter. I remember his stint on Lou Grant, and always love when he shows up in something, like The X-Files (and am unashamedly beyond thrilled when he doesn't die in the Halloween 2 TV edit!) I'm so very excited and frankly, a little honored, that Guest took some time out to answer a few questions about working on the ABC Afterschool Special and television in general. He had a lot of interesting things to say about his time on the small screen, and he gave some great insight into the Afterschool Special, which was this month's topic over at my companion podcast, The Made for TV Mayhem Show! He also name drops some awesome TVM titles at the end! Thank you Lance, and everyone else... enjoy!

Guest and Sean Astin in the harrowing Please Don't Hit Me, Mom

Amanda Reyes: Please Don't Hit Me, Mom was one of the first things you did in film or television. Were you aware of the importance of the Afterschool Specials when you auditioned?

Lance Guest: First of all, no one ever asks about these shows, which were largely part of what I remember to be a late 1970's-era attempt to deal with problems kids might be having in a format that was marketed directly TO kids. Although I hadn't seen many, as they were a little after my time as an adolescent, I remember that, for the most part, they tried to address some serious problems honestly, with a kind of PBS idealism that was unique to that time period of American TV culture. I believed very strongly at that time that TV had a huge influence on kids and was worried that the industry's commercial profit motive would ultimately overshadow any "message" or "value" that the show may want to put across if it contradicted the pro-consumer agenda that fuels the TV industry. It was a transition period from the 70's-era of social commentary, dominated by the likes of Norman Lear, toward the Reagan-era period of so-called Conspicuous Consumption, characterized by kitschy primetime soaps about the particular dramas of wealthy people, which basically served as its' own commercial for a more material society.

Yeah - I wasn't even 21 years old. So, yes, not only was I aware of the "important" intentions of these pieces, I was very much in favor of them, as they were right in line with what I felt was the best use of my skills as an actor. The unfortunately titled Please Don't Hit Me, Mom was originally penned without the Please, which was later added in an apparent attempt to avoid sounding unintentionally humorous (the title was still lampooned by my college friends) but I was proud of what was a pretty damn good show, and, which was in fact produced by Norman's company.  (I would eventually work on one of these goofy prime time soaps for almost a year, about 10 years later -which, to its credit, and in its own way I must admit, tried to address some of the same social concerns,occurring, as they did, in the early 90's).

Guest in Please Don't Hit Me, Mom

AR: That was a really intense episode. Did you do any research on child abuse, and what kind of research would that have entailed? For instance, was there something like a child psychologist on set?

LG: As I remember, there wasn't a psychologist on the set of the show, but in that day, the issue of child abuse was not a complicated thing to understand, and sadly did not require a ton of research, especially as it was presented to young teenagers. Pretty much everyone knew what was up. Nancy McKeon was about 6 years younger than me, and always seemed to have a pretty clear grasp of it. She may have done some research, but as I remember, it was Anna (Patty Duke, Anna was her real name) that did most of the heavy lifting, as she took a lot of the storytelling and the presentation of the pathology on herself (as well as the supporting cast of doctors and parents) I think it was my third or fourth professional job, so I just concentrated on my own stuff.

AR: Are you aware if there was any impact on the audience after it aired?

LG: I don't know if there's a way to gauge the audience impact of something like that. It's not really an issue that people are known to come forward with, but our job was to, I guess, raise awareness, so that people that saw it would come forward. Or a least to recognize behavior that might point to the protection of another. (I am answering these questions not having seen it in over 35 years) I think it won an award or was aired in prime time - much like the one I did later, One Too Many.

AR: So, of course I have to ask about working with Patty Duke. What was she like?

LG: Anna was very serious, I should say she took it very seriously, as her own nine-year-old son Sean played the abused child. I had always thought she was a tremendous actress, and I very much looked forward to working with her. As I said, she wanted to be very precise with the pathology and very honest with the emotion. I don't know what she drew on for this as she is admittedly a survivor of Manic Depression Disorder and alcoholism, but I don't believe she had personal experience to draw on for this show. By the time I met her she was a mother in her early 40's, and a fairly repentant former wild child, as were many in her occupation and generation.

TV Spot for One Too Many:
AR: I am going to repeat the first two questions and ask about the Afterschool Special One Too Many. Was there any kind of research or preparation involved for working on a film about drunk driving? And do you think the special had any influence on the teenagers who watched it?

LG: One Too Many. I am proud to say that I'd had no experience with drunk driving personally at the age of 24, and very little experience with actual drinking. I required very little research to be "the sensible one" of the duo of Val's character and mine. I'd had best friends that were "adventurers" in high school and middle school, but I was very much on the straight side in those years. Also, I don't want to sound as though I never did any research or back story work on my characters. It was just after about 1983 when I had studied with a great acting teacher, Jack Fletcher, who had stressed the importance of research. Prior to 1983, I just had high school and college theatre, neither of which had impressed the concept of "research" on me (which it turns out, is a very creative tool - more than you would think). My biggest acting challenge on that show was 1) to keep a straight face - believe it or not, Val Kilmer is one of the funniest individuals I have ever encountered - and 2) not to fall madly in love with both of my remaining co-stars Mare Winningham and Michelle Pfeiffer. Besides failing miserably on all three counts, I was happy with the result. Obviously the combination of drinking, driving and teenagers has always been a bad one, and there have been anti-drinking propaganda films for as long as I can remember, but it still remains a problem. Perhaps in the age of Uber and Lyft, we will see less incidents. I felt the twist at the end of our story hit pretty hard, and the acting and writing was overall pretty damn good. I think the show was not only bumped up to prime time, but was selected for some US Congress' official film to be presented to schools. So we were government-approved.

Guest and Val Kilmer in One Too Many

AR: You were in three Afterschool Specials. Did you have to keep auditioning for the roles, or did they just bring you in when they thought you were right for a part?

LG: The Director, Peter Horton, had cast Val, Mare, and Michelle, and was looking for my part when he saw Last Starfighter on an airplane and called me up. So, I didn't have to audition. My follow-up movie to Last StarFighter was about to shoot, and I was in LA for a few weeks. That follow-up fell apart financially and sadly never got made. That's when I went up to  Toronto to do [the telefilm] My Father My Rival. 

AR: What was production like? For example, did you get a lot of time to rehearse and work with the other actors and filmmakers or were these very quickly made?

LG: In general. low budget TV production - which is always what Afterschool Specials were - is always fast, which means usually very little rehearsal. That said, I feel like we got enough, since the object of these shows is not so much profit but accuracy, so although it was fast and cheap, I always felt properly rehearsed. Just in general, it felt good to be a part of something that had as its motive some sort of message or awareness instead of straight up entertainment. Martin Tahse produced many of them, and on Between Two Loves, I experienced the joys of video-assist, which meant all takes were "printed,"meaning that they had a complete record of ALL takes so they didn't have to print ones they didn't use. Very reassuring to the actor and very economical, as film was expensive and by editing on tape first, printing costs were limited to the handful of takes actually used. This was 82 -83(?) - way before the digital camera.

Guest and Karlene Crockett lighting my fire in Two Loves for Jenny (aka Between Two Loves)

AR: In Two Loves for Jenny (aka Between Two Loves) you play the violin quite well. Are you a violinist or did you have to have some training?

LG: I [have been] a guitar player for almost 50 years, and can pass on drums, piano, bass, and banjo, but I had to learn to fake the violin. I can do the fingering pretty convincingly and had to be taught proper bowing technique, but what they did was loosen the strings and put Vaseline on the bow, so that it was completely silent and I just memorized the dynamics and thrashed away to playback. Air-Violin - if you will. I love the way the violin sounds and I saw my "teacher/coach" play a Tchaikovsky concerto once that was so outside it convinced me that he was the Jimi Hendrix of the violin. 

Guest in Two Loves for Jenny

AR: I have to tell you, Loves has three of my favorite actors. You, Robert Reed and Karlene Crockett. What was it like working with them? Do you know what became of Karlene?

LG: It sounds like Karlene still does theatre. Her husband was a teacher and friend of a bunch of my friends and my cousin Jarion up in Mill Valley. He sadly passed away recently. I just remember her being very good. Robert Reed judged/sponsored a Shakespeare competition back when I was at UCLA which my girlfriend Kerry and I won in 1980 as undergrads. It was $500 that bailed me out of a jam when I was down to $9. So I was able to thank him for that. That was fun.

AR: Having worked on three specials, what was your overall experience on those projects, and being a part of the Afterschool Special legacy?

LG: As I stated before, it was really more important for me at that time to be part of something that at least intended to have a positive effect beyond just entertainment. I thought that everything was political. I was over-critical of most of Hollywood's output then, and even though we got paid very little, it made up for a lot of the less noble things that all young actors have to be a part of.  If I saw them all now, I might find them a bit earnest, but compared to what my friend calls the "Get the Nerd Laid" movies that ruled the 80's landscape for 20-something actors, it felt rewarding, probably because I remember seeing the first good ones when I was younger.

Making tough teen choices in Two Loves for Jenny

AR: Which of the three episodes if your favorite? And why?

LG: I would say all three have their good and bad points. Please Don't Hit Me, Mom (That Title!) was probably the most daring subject to tackle, but I was not that experienced an actor, so I don't remember how great my performance was, but I respected it a lot. One Too Many: [It] was fun to work with all those great actors and director, [and] was probably the most comfortably realistic dialogue for those things, but my role was subdued and the least colorful, but still fun. And Between Two Loves was the most dynamic character of them all, but the issue was considerably softer, being just one of jealousy and competition and love.

AR: You've worked in both film and television. I know film likes to go big while TV tends to go small. As an actor, do you feel you have to approach your roles differently, depending on the medium?

LG: Not really, especially between those two. On stage you have to be bigger, or nobody gets it.  I disagree that film requires bigger. A lot of times film requires you to be smaller because the screen is so big.  TV can be 8 feet wide at the largest and cellphone-sized at the smallest. Honestly, I don't make any adjustments. I try to be truthful first and foremost and amp it up if the director asks me to. Which is most of the time.

Guest in Lou Grant

AR: The character of Lance Reineicke appeared on several episodes of Lou Grant during the final season. What do you remember about working on that series?

LG: Again, my very first job (I was Mark the year before, but they just remember Lance so that guy went into the next season). Talk about setting the tone for what i wanted to do with my career. Lou Grant was regarded as having loads of integrity, coming on the heels of All the Presidents Men in terms of the public's taste for political news stories. Great writers, directors, and actors. Everything I came to expect from the industry was introduced to when I did Lou Grant. Most of the cast was fairly radical politically, and Ed, who was SAG president at that time came out (as a private citizen) with financial support for the so-called Marxist rebels in El Salvador, while the US government was supporting the other side. He got into all kinds of hell for that, and I was on the show during the time he would show up for work after having received various death threats. Ed has reconsidered his behavior some since then, but I thought he was super cool. I was 20 and had just left college. My character was not so much radical as kind of high-energy, dorky and impulsive. I had some great scenes with Linda Kelsey, Bobby Walden, and Darryl Anderson, all of whom I really respected. I was totally intimidated by Ed, who I had practically grown up with, watching  the Mary Tyler Moore Show. It was a great first job. 

TV Spot for Confessions of a Married Man:
14. So much television seems to be lost. I couldn't locate the telefilms Confessions of a Married Man or My Father, My Rival. What can you tell us about working on telefilms in this era and if you feel there is an importance to making these projects more accessible?

Ok, well, like said before, I think, The writing tended to be better on TV movies, than on many series. They often tackled important subject matter. I auditioned for a movie about nuclear holocaust and one about the nuns who were killed in El Salvador during the Sandinista Rebellion. I was very excited about them but for the first one, after having a perfect "nailed it" audition, they cast a guy who looks as much like me at the time as anyone, so much that I thought they might've thought he was me) and for the second, they hired my director for One Too Many, Peter Horton (who is a good actor/director and a cool guy). But interestingly, the director of that project, Joe Sargent, remembered me for when he directed Jaws: The Revenge, and offered me a lead part five years later. So, you never know what happens in an audition.

Promotional still for Confessions of a Married Man (dat cast!)

Confessions of a Married Man originally started as An Affair to Forget about a middle aged, indecisive, somewhat neurotic intellectual man who wants to leave his down-to-earth wife and two children for a more mentally stimulating younger woman. The writer wrote it originally for John Cassavettes, but the network chose Robert Conrad. Depending on how old you are, you will either get the irony or not. When you read the script, you could hear rhythms of Woody Allen or Alan Alda, and Bob was just not really that guy. Bob Conrad is a macho Old School Hollywood tough guy from The Wild Wild West and Black Sheep Squadron (who used to quote Steve McQueen on Hollywood: "Where else can you live this well without a gun?"). I thought, "Well this is gonna be interesting." I got along with Bob really well, though and steered clear of any political discussions.

I played a non-intellectual  high school football offensive lineman who has a five page scene at the end of the movie, which was supposed to bring Bob's character to tears, and convince him not to leave his family. When we got to the scene, they were going to cover Bob first, and he announced ,in his Chicago-ese "No way am I cryin' in this scene. Forget it. You're gettin' one take - and you'll get what you get!" The director comes up to me and implores me, "We have to get this. The whole movie doesn't work if he doesn't cry, and he won't take the drops.  It's on you." I was 22 years old. We did the scene and Bob cried. He was great. Then he just walked off the set. Classic. I'll always like him for that. Plus he was the star of one of only three TV shows my actual fighter pilot Dad would watch (Black Sheep Squadron) So that was fun. I had great scenes with my Mom, played by Jennifer Warren (who was Awesome). I used those scenes on my demo reel, instead of Last Starfighter for years. Don't know why. I guess I couldn't decide which ones to use. I don't know if anyone saw that movie, but I was happy with how it came out.

The same goes for The Roommate, which wasn't really, by format, a TV movie from the outset. Originally it was produced for PBS American Playhouse, which had been a pretty prestigious program during the 80's. It was based on a John Updike short story from the 50s, and the writer/producer Neil Miller and director Nell Cox decided they would shoot this low-budget piece in 35mm and try to make it an indie feature. They already had a deal with PBS but the extra production value of the time period would kick it up a notch. It was basically a 1952 college-roommate Odd  Couple, Barry Miller played beatnik purist Ghandi-disciple Hub from Portland OR, and I was uptight, religious, All American weenie Orson from South Dakota. It certainly played more like a feature than most TV movies, although it had a smaller "scope" as my screenwriter friend would say. And sadly it was never released commercially, but we did win the Grand Prize at the LA Indie Film Festival in 1985.

The Roommate

As a film experience it was unlike anything I had ever done, or will ever do. Updike's original story tended to be heady and deliberately uncomfortable, while the demands on a college-age target-demographic for a commercial film shared more with the college memoir comedies of that time, although certainly not as obvious. Those of us that thought we were making an "art film" shuddered at the incorrect notion that we would be making another Porky's. We were totally overreacting, but it was often contentious. Barry, an outspoken perfectionist, and I were solid with each other and would often stay up till four in the morning rehearsing, trying to get what the scenes were about, often suggesting alternate "beats." I must say, the writer/ producer and the director respectfully listened to our ideas, and sometimes used them, but the overall feeling was that we were all collaborating. It was the most fun I've ever had making a movie. By the end we didn't know what we had, but when I saw it, I felt like everyone really got what they wanted.

It won other festival awards, in Chicago and Toronto, I think, but was never released commercially. It aired on PBS in 1985. My parents liked it. I was so proud of having done an independent film that I used only this show on my demo reel for a few years, inadvertently causing my only auditions to be for solely uptight Midwestern weenies.  I was so naively anti-studio and anti-mainstream that I only wanted to appear in independent films. This was about 3 or 4 years before indies were really hip (in the late 80s early 90s).

Guest in Lou Grant

The next year, after I was told Last Starfighter didn't make any money at the box office, and a couple weeks after after my follow-up project (another indie film) fell apart, the newly founded HBO original programming department offered me what was presented as another Afterschool Special, but was really another TV movie for HBO. The original title had been Dark But Full of Diamonds, about a kid who loses his mom at 12 years old and falls in love with his swimming teacher, maybe 6 years his senior, who then starts dating his dad. when my character is 6 years older - so, at 18. My character was a lot of fun to play and I was working with Wendy Crewson, who I liked a lot as an actor. I played all the "Pissed off at Dad" notes with all the Freudian indignant transference and awkwardness, and it ended up pretty well. I had a great time in Toronto, where we shot it, although the fine director, Claude Jutra, didn't speak much English. The title was changed to My Father, My Rival, in my opinion, another title a little too "On the Nose."

So that's all I can say about the TV movies (or Movie Of the Week, as they used to be called) that I had anything to do with. I had been a fan of them when I was a kid in the 70's: Duel, Tribes, The Night Strangler, Sunshine, Melvin Purvis: G-man are the ones that stick out. But as the 80's went on, the TV movie demographic was identified as the "shopping housewife" so, whether that was deserving or not, the content, as a result, became exclusively stories of divorce, cheating husbands, murdered girlfriends, rape cases, lost children, poor little rich girls, etc. And usually by page 75, the leading female character has a "make-over montage" that is supposed to signify her "moving on," conveniently, providing a custom "commercial between commercials" to satisfy the sponsors. But the original reputation of the TV movie had been earned by more original content. Nowadays, with a company like HBO, the content seems less driven by commercial interests, and more pure story, or niche genres.

Cry Rape (1973)

Network: CBS
Original Airdate: November 27, 1973

Fresh off of the daytime drama, Love is a Many Splendored Thing, Andrea Marcovicci took another dramatic turn in the harrowing but flawed Cry Rape, which predates the better known (and, frankly, better made) A Case of Rape by mere months. In Cry Rape, Marcovicci is Betty Jenner, an unassuming young woman who comes home from a normal day at work and is attacked by a serial rapist. Mustering up the energy to follow up the assault with police action, Betty is run through a system that seeks to continually victimize the victim. After a man is apprehended, more women step forward, but as the trial and investigation continues it becomes apparent that these women have wrongly accused the defendant.

Both Cry Rape and A Case of Rape landed in the top ten most watched telefilms of the 1973-74 season, with Case coming in at #2, boasting a 33.1/44 rating, and Cry settling in at #8 with a rating of 27.6/43. Almost half of America was finally opening their eyes the problems of a justice system that may have good intentions, but used very poor methods to solve a heinous crime. In this respect, Cry Rape is an essential film. It does indeed offer a fairly realistic look at the system, and does so through a strong character determined to see that justice prevails. Unfortunately, Betty only bookends a movie that is all about the misidentified culprit and his plight to prove his innocence (or more aptly, the police department’s plight).

Novelization for Cry Rape

In an interview to promote the movie, screenwriter Leonard Freeman stated that he was aware of the production of A Case of Rape and hoped it would change the system. He said, "Look at the newspapers, the news magazines, the legal journals - the concern about the growing incidence of rape, our antiquated laws on rape, the horrible treatment by the police and the courts of women who are willing to press charges... No, I'm not in the least surprised that these two stories would emerge simultaneously. I am surprised that both of them are in prime time where they will be seen by a wide audience - not hidden in some Sunday afternoon ghetto."

In the end, I had very mixed feelings about the way the film played out. I appreciate the effort to bring attention to a sensitive topic that absolutely needed addressing. However, disregarding Betty for more than half of the film is troubling. It reminds me of 1976’s Revenge for a Rape with Mike Connors. In Revenge, the assault takes a backseat to the heady action scene at the end, which features Connors, not the victim, "getting revenge" (and, if memory serves, has a similar twist). With this approach, the survivor is put under question when it’s revealed that she accused the wrong man. In both of these films, rape is merely a plot device.

At the same time, I did like the ending of Cry because it doesn’t just pat Betty on the back and assume life will resume some kind of normalcy for her. In this respect, it is reminiscent of Are You in the House Alone?, which does a better of job of telegraphing that notion, and, of course, that telefilm is told from the female’s point of view, giving it a gravitas and a sense of realism that Cry lacks.

This is not to say that Cry Rape should be completely disregarded. It’s a very watchable telefilm, with great acting, especially from Peter Coffield and Joseph Sirola (who I know best from his many appearances on Quincy). As a mystery film, it does have its intrigue, and it is an efficient, and sometimes energetic entry into the early days of the telefilm. Mostly though it is an important cultural artifact, because it got to the gate first, and made an honest attempt to depict the horrors of sexual assault. The scenes with Betty are harrowing, and I appreciate that the script makes sure that not every male character is a jerk. It also invites us (all to briefly though) into another survivor’s life, and manages to give viewers something to think about. I just wish those moments were longer, and the mystery aspect played down.

Cry Rape is available through Warner Archives!

Andrea Marcovicci discussing Cry Rape: