Sometimes you run into something so (wonderfully) bonkers, you are left a little beyond words. When the thing that is loopy happens to be a TV movie, you can sometimes count on the late great Alvin Marill to help clear things up. To quote his entry from Movies Made for Television on the 1972 telefilm Madame Sin:
In her initial movie for television, Bette Davis is a ruthless, all powerful mystery woman who abducts an ex-CIA agent and forces him to help her steal an ultra-modern Polaris submarine.
Thank you Alvin, this gets us started.
I mean, sure that description is outlandish, but where does the bonkers come into play, you ask? Well, first of all Davis is a half-Asian evil-doer residing in a Scottish castle. She has holograms of musicians playing enormous round harps, and her underground laboratory looks like the sinister workings of a Progressive auto insurance advert!
Flo from Progressive in 30 years
To help her along the way is the aforementioned CIA agent, Anthony Lawrence (Robert Wagner). He’s kidnapped somewhere in London by two women dressed as nuns who use the aid of a strange sound wave machine to throw Lawrence off his game. Out of sorts, he is flown to the castle, where he’s manipulated by a new programming device that works almost like a dog whistle, but with human-recognizable sounds. Turns out Madame Sin once had a tumultuous affair with Lawrence’s father and feels she can influence him with her familiar ties. To a degree this works, but the wicked Madame can’t stop herself from resorting to even dirtier tricks, which involve manipulations so wonderfully evil that it would impress the likes of the greatest small screen love-to-hate-them villains (JR Ewing, I’m looking at you!). And don’t forget, she delivers these emotional and physical blows to her opponent complete with false eyelashes and the bluest eye shadow I have ever seen! The fab obviously elevates her duplicity another notch.
Evil never looked so strangely fab!
Madame Sin commits all kinds of villainy, from faking deaths, to stealing and selling submarines for 1 billion dollars. But she’s at her best when she’s remembering her love affair with Lawrence’s father. She makes jokes no one quite gets ("we spoke only in Croatian!" har har?) and frankly, gets all bent out of shape that her lover never mentioned Miss Sin to his son. So, what does she do when she gets mad? She renders Lawrence deaf and throws him to the wolves of Scotland, which is really just a bunch of tourists who don’t want to be bothered with helping anyone. Evil, I say!
I'm here all week, guys.
As mentioned in Marill’s concise review, Madame Sin marked Bette Davis’ small screen movie debut. This TVM has an interesting history in that it was sold as a pilot film for a sadly unrealized US series, but was scheduled to play theaters overseas. Watching the unfortunate fate of Lawrence, one has to wonder if the series was meant to star Wagner at all, or if was going to follow the exploits of the great Madame (OMG. What did we miss out on?!?).
A board meeting of EVIL! Malcolm must be taking notes off camera
Shooting began in February of 1971 and the film generated some decent attention in England, where part of the film was shot. Bette, like all great divas, seemed to enjoy the response, but was quick to give credit to Madame Sin’s director, David Greene, whom she referred to as “brilliant… but different” in an interview she did for Sight and Sound magazine. She also enjoyed working with Wagner, who was also a producer on the film. In another interview appearing in Variety, Davis said that Wagner was “a very bright lad.”
Davis also felt that despite forty plus years in the biz, she was working on a role that that was fresh. In her interview with Sight and Sound she said, “This film is a new experience for me. For one thing, it‘s a crime fantasy and usually I like to find some way of relating to my characters. But how can you relate to someone as outrageous as Madame Sin? So I have to invent all the time. It’s fun.”
Life is good when you're this wicked!
True to her words, Davis looks like she’s having the time of her life. And that sense of fun isn’t just contained by Davis’ extravagant performance (complete with one of the best sashays I’ve seen in a long time. In short, she’s werking!), it can also be seen in the great Denholm Elliot, who plays her right hand man, Malcolm. He actually seems to be having even more fun than Davis (and was probably just giddy being in the same room with her). It’s impossible not to notice that subtle half grin that appears with some of his best dialog delivery!
Madame Sin: It’s so disappointing to beat men. They never admit when they’ve lost. Unlike myself. But I’m never faced with the problem of losing because I always win.
Malcolm: Well I’m with you. That is if I understand you correctly, which seems highly improbable.
Evil harpist must be a resume builder...
While the film can seem a bit campy with its strange premise and flamboyant dialog delivery, it had some serious money behind it. Davis’ simple yet outrageously gorgeous wardrobe was designed by the great Edith Head, and aptly places Miss Davis in head to toe villainous glamour! Madame Sin was shot mostly around London and at the famous Pinewood Studios, with some other exteriors shot on the Island of Mull in Scotland. Madame Sin’s gorgeous castle came courtesy of Glengorn Castle (aka Castle Sorn). The acropolis is not just a tourist attraction, it’s now a bed and breakfast!* In short, this film is an oh-so-70s feast for the eyes, and a mind-blowing treat of strange, and wonderfully bizarre filmmaking. While it isn’t a copycat of Wagner’s 1967 TVM How I Spent My Summer Vacation, that colorful and awfully fun comedic spy thriller would make a fantastic double bill with Madame Sin!
Location, location, location!
Unfortunately, despite the positive press the film received while it was in production, London critics weren’t so kind with the final product. Richard Combs of London’s Monthly Film Bulletin remarked that Madame Sin suffered from a “dull script, a wooden hero and an abysmal ending.” The film opened at the Astoria in London’s West End and pulled in a respectable but only “Okay” box office of $8,556 (according to Variety). It was the replacement for Anthony and Cleopatra, which had grossed half as much the week before. Therefore, I call it a success!
Its premiere on American television went over much better critically, although Davis’ TVM debut didn’t set the world on fire (shame on us!). Kevin Thomas of the LA Times said Madame Sin was “lots of fun,” and he enjoyed the “handsome production.” Still, the ratings were average, and the TVM drew an 18.4/24. Not horrible but much like its West End run, it was only OK.
Promotional still used in Sight and Sound magazine
This was actually just one of two pilot movies Davis shot around this time. The other was The Judge and Jake Wyler (NBC, 12/2/1972), which was a Levinson/Link telefilm (they created Columbo). Davis tones down the glamour in the role of “The Judge,” and doesn’t spend much time doing much of anything except talking the phone. Of course, Davis’ star shines in any role, but if I were to pick one show to go to series, it would be hard to turn down Davis’ unforgettable strut as the evil Madame Sin.
This blog post is part of the Classic TV Blog Association's Classic TV Villain Blogathon. Get the full list of participants with links to their articles here. And, enjoy!
*And thank you to Gore Blimey from the Trilogy of Terror podcast for helping me with information regarding Glengorn Castle. You're the best!
Just in time for Halloween, this post was part of the Terror TV Blogathon hosted by the Classic TV Blog Association. There are tons of creepy reads ahead, so check out what's scary to others in the association by clicking here. Oh, and enjoy! Let's roll...
Network: ABC Original Airdate: October 27th, 1970
Although it has been many years since I read Barbara Michael’s excellent Ammie, Come Home, which The House that Would Not Die (aka The House that Wouldn't Die) is based on, I remember it as a chilling and fascinating novel. Michaels, whose real name was Barbara Mertz, earned a PhD in Egyptology from the University of Chicago before becoming a best selling author, writing under the names of Michaels, and Elizabeth Peters. As Michaels, she often dove into Gothic ghost stories, brilliantly weaving her knowledge of the research process she had developed while acquiring her doctorate, incorporating the fascinating “brick and mortar” historical interrogation methods into the mystery solving her characters engaged in. The ABC Movie of the Week adaptation, written by Henry Farrell (a fellow novelist who also penned the screenplay for the excellent TVM The Eyes of Charles Sand) somehow manages to maintain some of the authenticity of that process while also indulging in the many supernatural thrills that made the novel so compelling.
A look at a similar(ish) color scheme used in the TVM's foreign artwork and a later release of the novel:
Barbara Stanwyck makes her telefilm debut as Ruth Bennett, an elegant and independent woman who inherits a beautiful but remote house from a distant relative. Taking her lovely niece, Sara (Kitty Winn) along for the ride, the duo decides to set up house for a bit, but soon find out something is already living there.
That’s the basic premise of this simple but suspenseful ghost tale that also interweaves some charming romance elements (along with a few rapey ones, but we’ll get to that) for Ruth, and a professor named Pat (Richard Egan, also making his TV movie debut), as well as for Sara with a cutie pie named Stan (Michael Anderson Jr., and his moustache). Following the original storyline beats of Ammie, House kicks of quickly with a nifty séance, before embarking on a slow burn film about possession, lost love, and grief, leading to a surprisingly moving ending.
The hauntings, which are classic even by the standards of 1970, begin early on, as a male voice cries “Ammie, come home,” in the wee hours of the night. Soon after, Sara takes a peculiar turn, becoming terrified of Pat, who is also acting curiously, and sometimes violently when inside the house.
Based on my memory, the novel and film depart mostly in terms of the location. Ammie takes place in the busy and stately D.C. neighborhood of Georgetown, where the neighbors are literally yards away from the chaos. House is out in the middle of no man’s land, where help isn’t simply a scream away, feeding into a real sense of seclusion. While the more urban setting of Ammie works wonderfully in the novel, I really like the isolated locale in House.
Like most telefilms, House is not overtly violent, but manages to bring on the creep factor in several scenes. One of the most jaw dropping ones occurs relatively early when Pat forces himself on Ruth. It is an uncomfortable moment meant to express that Pat is no longer himself, but it does tap into some very real fears of that pushy date you dread but have probably encountered. Ruth somehow manages to forgive Pat, and that he is being taken over by a spirit helps the audience also come back to loving him, but that scene still stands out as a realistically terrifying moment.
And, House has atmosphere to spare. Going back to the location, the howling winds that rattle around the house give the film a sense of unease. The séance is, like all séances are in my opinion, awesome, and Winn is excellent as the possessed victim.
There are a few supporting characters, but House relies heavily on the four leads to carry the film. Stanwyck and Egan are the standouts as the couple fighting off ghosts while sometimes fighting off their feelings for each other, but with pros like that, can anyone else expect to upstage those two? Well, Stanwyck’s gorgeous oh-so-seventies wardrobe almost does. It’s the height of middle aged glamour and she looks beautiful showing off one majestic frock after another.
Majestic frocks:
Spelling and Stawyck actually had a long and fruitful history together, beginning in 1968 with the Zane Grey Theater episode Trail to Nowhere, which Stanwyck appeared in and which Spelling produced. Afterwards, the two worked on The Dick Powell Theatre episode Special Assignment (1962), before Stanwyck made her telefilm debut in House. Afterwards she got a bit more sinister in the 1971 TVM A Taste of Evil, and then in 1973 starred in The Letters. She also played Toni in the gender bending Charlie’s Angels episode Toni’s Boys and then took a gig as Constance Colby on both Dynasty and in The Colbys. Stanwyck had already put in years of spellbinding professional work, but her more fanciful gigs with Spelling are memorable and wonderful. TV looked so good on her, and Spelling loved working with classic Hollywood, and did right by them (if I do say so myself).
But let's not forget the other man behind the camera, John Llewellyn Moxey, who also directed Stanwyck in A Taste of Evil. The journeyman director knew how to make more out of less, and he maintains an economical but genuinely claustrophobic ambiance, especially in the possession scenes. There is something so charming about House, but in all honestly, it isn't just nostalgia that makes this film a true ABC Movie of the Week classic, it's just really simple and solid, almost perfecting that dark and stormy night watching that made so many of the MOWs so damn entertaining. In short, the goods are for real.
I was surprised to read that Ammie is actually a part of a trilogy of novels Michaels wrote, which is known as the Georgetown trilogy. According to this great article by Natalie Luhrs on Pretty Terrible, in the follow up, titled Shattered Silk, Michaels brings back Pat and Ruth, although the novel now follows another one of Ruth’s nieces named Karen who finds herself solving an old murder mystery. The third novel, Stitches in Time doesn’t keep it in the family, instead making the protagonist a friend of Karen's named Rachel, and involves a cursed quilt. Honestly, you can't go wrong with the novel or its small screen adaptation. It's creepy good times for the Halloween season!
This blog post is part of A Very Merry MeTV Blogathon hosted by The Classic TV Blog Association. Check out the blogathon schedule here and make sure to check out all of the great MeTV holiday programming here!
Although it doesn’t capture the milieu to a T, I always considered Father Dowling Mysteries to be a part of the cozy mystery movement of the late 1980s. Of course, Jessica Fletcher of Murder,She Wrote, the rebel and trendsetter that she is, gave America a nice antidote to the glitzier, neon-soaked detective shows of the same era. I’m not saying she’s the first to serve murder with a comforting cup of tea, but she certainly set the tone that would be followed by a lot of fun small screen sleuthing. Matlock and Diagnosis Murder were two other ridiculously popular shows that veered slightly from the formula, but still managed to make murder and mayhem seem like a warm crocheted blanket. Father Dowling also had all of the right ingredients to knock it out of the park (and even featured MSW regular Tom Bosley who exchanged his sheriff’s badge in Cabot Cove for cleric gear in Chicago). With its untroubled tempo, church setting and laid back “Let the Father do the driving” mystery stories, Dowling was an underrated charmer. But because of a galdurn writer’s strike and a network switch, the good Father was lost in the scheduling shuffle and ended after 3 seasons (the first two only half seasons), producing 42 episodes.
The setting and occupation of the main characters made a Christmas episode either the most obvious idea ever, or the worst thing that could happen (depending on your threshold for murder on the holiest of holy days). Luckily for fans of Father Dowling, it was done just right, with an attempted murder, a couple of pistol packing Santas, and the amiable and capable Nun-named-Steve keeping watch over a trouble little boy. The holiday was in full swing, and it was good times indeed.
The Christmas Mystery, which originally aired on December 13, 1990 on ABC, opens with the season going strong, and the local department store desperate for holiday help. So fraught in fact, that they will hire you on the spot and put you on the sales floor immediately, or, apparently make you a security guard and hand you a gun! Single mother Wendy (Anne Kerry Ford) is desperate for work and relieved that the store wants her to start straightway, but she’s due to pick up her shy son, Brian (played by twins Christian and Joseph Cousins) from the airport. She asks Father Dowling for some assistance and he sends Steve (the completely adorable Tracy Nelson) on her way to retrieve Brian. However, while Wendy is changing for work, a security guard from the store knocks on her door, insinuates that the two have met somewhere previously, and then shoots her point blank!
Merry Christmas, right?
Back at the church, everyone becomes worried about Wendy and through a series of random, only-on-television events, Steve ends up stepping in for Wendy at the store. Steve does two things while she’s there: 1. Fix a doll for a kindly old woman, and 2. Sniffs out a Santa with a gun! This girl is on it, they should hire her full time!
Meanwhile, Dowling visits Wendy’s home and finds her sprawled on the floor, possibly at death’s door. But while connecting the pistol-packing Santa to Wendy may seem like a stretch that can only happen with the greatest of faith, Father Dowling and company are on the case, and should have things wrapped up just in time for gift giving!
Fast, good-natured and perhaps a little trivial (in a good way), The Christmas Mystery is absolutely delightful, and must be viewed with a cup of eggnog and a cat snuggled at your feet. Strife has never been so fun, easy and overloaded with major shoulder pads!
This episode may stand out to small screen connoisseurs for a few different reasons. The Christmas Mystery was written by the great Brian Clemens, who gave us The Avengers, and the excellent British anthology series Thriller (check out my review for Dial a Deadly Number). If anyone can spin a twist, even a mild one, into something substantial, and even menacing, Clemens is the one. When it is revealed how Wendy knows her attacker and how her son is involved, there’s a great “GULP” moment. And even though it’s followed by a mediocre maybe-chase that ends in a storage room, the thrill is still there.
The Christmas Mystery was also directed by TV stalwart James Frawley who is probably best known for directing the bulk of The Monkees brilliant two-season run. There’s no psychedelic chaos here, but it is wonderfully paced and kept light as air with fun performances and a few interesting set pieces.
But what kind of retro TV blogger would I be if I didn’t sing the praises of Tom Bosley who was one of the friendliest faces of 1980s television! From Mr. C to Amos Tupper to Father Dowling, Bosley was always a sight for sore eyes and a great treat to watch. Although, I would have to say this is really Nelson’s episode. Steve throws herself into the mix, never loses her cool and although Dowling inevitably saves the day, I’m pretty sure Steve could have done the same.
The Christmas Mystery is airing tonight (December 7th) at 9 PM EST and PST and 8 PM CST and MST on MeTV, so grab your eggnog and favorite kitty, and enjoy!
It's that time of the year again! This retrospective is part of the Summer of MeTV Classic TV Blogathon hosted by
the Classic TV Blog Association. Click here to
check out the blogathon's complete schedule, and you should visit MeTV's awesome schedule too! And watch the shows! Enjoy!
Laverne DaFazio and Shirley Fenney were originally introduced on the wildly popular sitcom Happy Days in the season three episode A Date with Fonzie (O.A.D. 11/11/1975). As Cindy Williams said, the characters looked like they “dated the fleet,” and Fonzie even politely refers to the duo as “more boisterous than I usually like.” Richie thought they were edgy because Laverne drove without insurance (and beat up Shirley!). They easily stole the show with their hip swinging, easy action ways and soon got a chance to carry a series in 1976 when they were given their own spinoff.
Williams and her costar Penny Marshall had been writing partners in the years leading up working together as actors, and their chemistry was off the charts. While they lost a bit of the trampy innuendo from that Happy Days episode (well Shirley did, Laverne remained a bit aggressive, but in a more innocent way), they played off each other perfectly as best buds in working class 1950s Milwaukee.
Focusing on broad physical comedy and wild, cartoonish adventures, Laverne and Shirley became an iconic series that traversed the cultural landscape known as ABC Tuesdays back in the 1970s (where they stayed for the first three seasons, and then returned in 1980 after a few months of ratings woes). ABC's late 70s Tuesday night line up was seminal. During this comedy heyday, the schedule looked a lot like this (with some variations depending on the season, mostly in the 9:30 slot):
Fall 1978:
8pm: Happy Days 8:30 pm: Laverne and Shirley 9pm: Three’s Company 9:30pm: Taxi
Promo for ABC's 1978 Tuesday Night lineup:
And, it was not unusual to see Laverne and Shirley hanging out around the top of the Nielsens, often scoring higher ratings than Happy Days (furthermore, on January 10th, 1978, the girls scored the “largest audience for any TV sitcom ever” with The Mortician, boasting a rating of 37.6, which means they were seen in approximately 27.4 million homes, with an audience of over 60 million viewers! Holy guacamole!). It was hijinks galore and as the show expanded its physical humor shenanigans, it grew not just in popularity but the series also nurtured a devoted fanbase (i.e. me). To its credit (and frankly to the credit of all of ABC’s Tuesday night lineup during the late 1970s), the humor remains wildly relatable and laugh out loud funny.
These types of Nielsens numbers were not unusual for the dynamic duo!
That’s not to say all of America was in love with the put upon working class duo, as noted by a really stuffy critic for the Miami News named Bill von Mauer. I don’t mean to pick on this writer exclusively, but he obviously missed the components that made this show work. One of which was placing two strong (if somewhat overly romantic) women in diverse leading roles that allowed them to exercise their enormous gift for comedy, amongst a fairly male dominated lineup of funnymen, er, people.
A seemingly improvised moment from the Season 2 episode Steppin' Out
von Mauer wrote that he “worried about America,” and felt this show only spoke to “the male viewer with a beer can in one hand and a cigar in the other who sits in front of the tube in his undershirt. By his side is his female counterpart, the woman who still has her apron on, hasn’t done her hair for a week and throws back her beer right from the can the way her husband does.”
I think Laverne's expression speaks to how I feel about Mr. von Mauer's sentiments.
It’s such a strange statement, considering how many sitcoms that dealt with the lower classes of America during the 1970s appealed to a fairly diverse, and large, audience. And as a non-beer guzzling pre-teen during this era, I felt the show really spoke to strong females who may be trapped in a sort of 1950s ideology that basked in middle class Leave it to Beaver living, but who still felt they had the power to exercise choices. If they hadn’t, Shirley would have married Carmine and we would not have a long running series.
Hang in there, baby! We've got your back!
I also feel compelled to note that Laverne and Shirley also ran during the same era as the iconic female detective series Charlie’s Angels, and as a fan of both I can say I am glad that I grew up in a world where I could worship both Kelly Garrett and Laverne DaFasio.
The original Angora Debs, minus Rosie Greenbaum.
But even without the cultural critique, the fact still remains that Laverne and Shirley were completely relatable as flawed but good people who wanted the best for themselves. No amount of pratfalls was going to break them up, and like so many twenty-somethings from any era who are experiencing living as an adult for the first time, they found family with each other. And that’s what keeps drawing us back to Milwaukee and, eventually to Los Angeles, where the series hit a couple of bumps, but still managed to spin gold when it could.
Keepin' it real
I was beyond ecstatic to see that Laverne and Shirley and Carmine, er, I mean Marshall, Williams and Eddie Mekka, are curating the episodes that MeTV will be airing over the summer. And I was inspired to come up with my own list of faves. While this could change at the drop of a hat (except for my number one pick, that will never change!), here are the first five episodes that instantly came to mind.
Life in Hollywood was downright strange!
Sidenote #1: You may notice my picks are very Laverne-centric. Shirley also had her share of relatable problems and foibles, but deep down I’m just a milk and Pepsi girl.
Sidenote #2: My choices are also a little boy-centric as well because I’m basically just as boy crazy as Laverne!
And away we go...
The bed that eats!
5. Dinner for Four (OAD 12/5/1978):Dinner for Four has the girls working at an event for veterinarians, which is being held at the Pizza Bowl. Laverne and Shirley are, of course, on the make and meet up with handsome doctors Rob (Denny Smith) and Jeff (Jeffrey Kramer, probably best known as Deputy Hendricks from Jaws, or as the captain of my heart). When the two vets invite Laverne and Shirley over for dinner the girls break a date with Lenny and Squiggy only to find that their "dates" want the girls to serve dinner, not enjoy it!
Lenny and Squiggy let you know when you've hurt their feelings!
A lot of Laverne and Shirley episodes are filled with bittersweet moments where the girls realize that whatever that week’s particular dream is, it is just not going to happen. But along the way, they encounter a man-eating bed and Laverne proves that revenge is better served with lasagna (keyword: served). The girls make peace with Len and Squig, dust off their egos and move on to their next adventure.
Cigarette or cracker? Shirley doesn't care!
4. Guinea Pigs (OAD 1/18/1977): Because the girls can’t afford to attend a high-class cocktail party, they sign themselves up as scientific experiments (at the behest of Lenny and Squiggy, which is your first clue it’s all going to hell in a handbasket). After 48 hours of pure torture, where Laverne has to stay awake for two days straight and Shirley has to eat dirt (!), they finally arrive at the party, and are definitely worse for wear!
Who wouldn't want to vodeo-do under the table with this guy?!?
One of my favorite moments of this episode comes at the end when Laverne crawls out from under the table with gorgeous Charles, who is played by Richard Young from Friday the 13th Part V! See I told you I was boy crazy. This episode also features an almost unrecognizable Kip Gilman, and even more cartoonish looking Harry Shear as a man with an acquired taste for dumplings made out of mud!
Royally awesome!
3. The Debutante Ball (OAD 5/9/1978): This episode always makes me misty because it’s all about dignity and pride. When it is discovered that Lenny is heir to a Polish throne, he is invited to an awesomely royal shindig and asks Laverne to be his date. They score their outfits from a wax museum and do their best to fit into the elite party. After a little public humiliation, Laverne seeks shelter in the woman’s room, and Shirley comes to her rescue.
All washed up? Never!
There’s very little to not love about this one. While it’s laugh out loud funny (Laverne’s major pratfall is both hysterical and heartbreaking), it’s equally as sweet, first with Lenny’s crush on Laverne and then with the handsome duke who openly admires Laverne’s dignity. I am actually getting choked up now. Go Laverne!
Swoon-erific
2. Why Did the Fireman…(OAD 2/4/1980): This episode is perhaps one of the most iconic of the series. For one, it features a super swoon-worthy Ted Danson as a dashing fireman who sweeps Laverne off of her feet. And it’s also a great example of how tragic moments on sitcoms never make it to another episode. After Laverne loses the great love of her life in a fire, she has to come to terms with the tragedy.
**sniff sniff**
Why Did the Fireman… features Phil Foster, who played Laverne’s pop, Frank in an uncharacteristically quietly powerful moment where he compares Laverne’s grief to when he lost his own wife, and he doesn’t shy away from the depth of sadness Laverne is about to endure. Which makes it all the more ironic that the series never refers to Danson’s character again. This also happens in the episode The Slow Child when we learn that Mrs. Babish (the great Betty Garrett who rocked capri pants) has a learning disabled daughter… then poof! Issues begone! Still, Fireman is terribly romantic and heartfelt, and it gives an early glimpse into Danson’s magnetic onscreen presence. Swoon! Swoon! Swoon!
Did I say swoon?
No caption needed.
1. Laverne and Shirley Meet Fabian (OAD 11/17/1977): Speaking of swoon... After missing out on tickets to see Fabian in concert, and after dealing with Rosie Greenbaum's (Carole Ita White) obnoxious bragging (P.S. I adore Rosie!), our put-upon duo attempt to sneak into Fabian's hotel room and meet him. Unfortunately, they are quickly discovered and try to hide on Fabian's window ledge. Of course, they are soon discovered, but Fabian has a kind heart... and kissable lips. And let's face it, he turns me loose!
Ha! I'm here all week.
**squee**
It was Laverne and Shirley who introduced me to singing idol Fabian, and it’s hard not to love his sense of humor in this episode. When he starts singing, it's like watching a mini-recreation of The Beatles performing on The Ed Sullivan Show, and is one of the highlights of the series for me. As I've said before, I've always felt a little bit like these lovely ladies, from boy craziness to doing it my way, and this episode gives the girls their just dues, and like the theme song says, they are making their dreams come true!
Tune into Laverne and Shirley every Wednesday night this summer on MeTV!
