Tuesday, October 20, 2026

THE EARLY SHOW, PT. 75

Buckle up for a time-travel jaunt from 1933 to 1984, with stops in Hollywood, Bali, and the moon. All aboard!


GIVE A MAN A JOB (1933): Well, whaddaya know -- another three-minute short
promoting the National Recovery Administration, this time courtesy of Metro-Goldwyn- Mayer! Why hold rallies and make speeches when the studios did the heavy lifting gratis? (That's what they mean by "PATRIOTICALLY CONTRIBUTED".)

Give a Man a Job isn't the official title of the short. In fact, it really doesn't have a title to speak of. It's the song 36-year-old Jimmy Durante talks/sings/raps to a group of people wanting to learn more about the NRA. In a rhythmic, rhyming conversation with select patrons, Durante tells businessmen to hire more workers, and ordinary folks to patronize more businesses. Using his famous mispronunciation, Durante orders a hypochondriac, "You must see a doctor for pneumonia/a doctor for insohm-nia/one for osmosis/and two for halitosis/One for anemia/One for eczemee-ah/Neuritis, bronchitis, phlebitis, St. Vitus, or any other kind of an itis/That will delight us!"  This poor lady is being coerced into shelling out for at least ten doctors, who are already making bank. Hey, there's a Depression going on, remember? 

While Durante is, per usual, great fun to watch -- especially since he sings live in one take -- at no time does he explain how these folks are supposed to pay for all this extra help. Some musical emotional blackmail, then, is in order: "If the ol' name of Roosevelt makes the old heart throb/You take this message straight from the president and give a man a job!" To drive the point home, at the finale Durante unveils a portrait of FDR, to the cheers from his audience, and very likely Roosevelt himself in the White House screening room. Ponder MGM hiring Tim Allen doing the same for Trump while promoting Medicare cuts. 

BONUS POINTS: Rodgers & Hart patriotically contributed the song "Give a Man a Job", while Moe Howard plays an exterminator strong-armed (strong-nosed?) by Durante into giving weekends off to his regular employees so he can hire more. Well, at least they won't be working seven days a week anymore.


LEGONG (1935): A subgenre of the 1930s exploitation movie craze was the so-called "goona-goona" picture. These were semi-documentaries of South Pacific islands featuring exotic landscapes, animal violence, and "natives" of all ages in various states of undress. 

Legong (subtitled Dance of the Virgins) differed from your run-of-the-mill goona-goonas due to being in Technicolor, produced by A-list actress Constance Bennett, released internationally by Paramount, and its more or less respectful treatment of the non-pro cast and their characters... in various states of undress. This seemed to be the whole point of these movies, which makes you wonder the reasoning behind the MPAA giving a pass to Legong. (The animal violence is restricted to a cockfight -- a sport, like soccer, that seems to transcend nations.)

Although shot entirely in Bali, the allegedly true story of a young woman losing her boyfriend to her younger sister is straight out of any Hollywood writers' building.
Legong's historical interest lies in capturing the real-life culture of the locals. Getting breakfast off the nearest fruit tree, making rice cakes, selling said rice cakes at the local market, and dancing. If what Legong portrays still exists in the jungles of Bali, it looks a lot more paradisical than what we consider civilization. But I hope the extras have since learned not to look at the camera.

BONUS POINTS:  Filmed two years before its 1935 release, Legong was one of the last two-strip Technicolor movies and silents. Shows you how an audience attuned to talkies would come out for people in various stages of undress. And cockfights.


STEPTOE AND SON (UNAIRED AMERICAN PILOT) (1965): It isn't a secret that the 1970s
sitcom Sanford and Son was a remake of the UK series Steptoe and Son. But what nobody (meaning me) realized was that an American version almost came to pass several years earlier, starring Fish-Eye fave Lee Tracy as the slovenly junk dealer, along with Aldo Ray as his put-upon adult son. And I never would have known about it without 
Fish-Eye reader Gary Donaldson kindly gifting me with a UK-only DVD of Steptoe and Son's unaired pilot. 

Alas, despite Tracy's participation, it's clear why the project wasn't picked up. There's trouble right from the opening credits with its dopey theme music, sound effects, and the idea of a junk man travelling around an American city in a horsedrawn cart in 1965. Too, there's little funny (as presented, anyway) about a father and son living one step away from poverty -- especially when the father treats his son like a piece of junk he's trying to sell. 

Still the same pro from his pre-code days, the now-haggard Tracy does his best to put Steptoe and Son over. Whatever laughs he evokes comes from his familiar delivery and the goodwill he brings, rather than the trite material. But Aldo Ray is no comedian; he's too strong to be believable as a grown son putting up with his father's crap. Eliminate the laugh track, and you've got the first draft of a second-rate Arthur Miller knockoff by a third-rate writer. 

But you know what? It's nice that Lee Tracy, who made his movie debut in 1929, was still in demand the same year Rubber Soul was released. Thanks for thinking of me, Gary! Let me know if there's a US DVD you'd like.

BONUS POINTS: Need I repeat myself? Lee Tracy.


NOTHING LASTS FOREVER (1984):  Intended as a satirical tribute to Hollywood's golden age, Nothing Lasts Forever is a mishmash of Humoresque (sensitive young artist Adam Beckett tries to make it in the big city), The Wizard of Oz (Adam leaves his black & white world and enters a land of color under Manhattan), and cheesy 1950s sci-fi (he takes a bus ride to the moon to meet his true love). I left out some details, but so did writer/director Tom Schiller. Between the 82-minute running time and the number of scenes that fade out without a pay-off, you know a lot of footage never made the final cut. And little of what remains isn't worth watching.

As for the cast, Zach Gillian is the star, but supporting players Dan Ackroyd and Bill Murray seemed to be the insurance for studio financing. (Schiller himself was best known for his short films during Saturday Night Live's early years.) More interesting are unexpected appearances by the likes of Imogene Coca, Eddie Fisher, and Mort Sahl, while 93-year-old Sam Jaffe gives the best performance in a role based on his character in Lost Horizon. He died shortly after filming, perhaps of embarrassment. 

Nothing Lasts Forever --an ironic title for a movie that had me continually checking the clock -- is, like Harry Nilsson's godawful Son of Dracula, a "midnight movie" begging for a well-lubricated audience to overlook its many flaws. Outside of a few film festivals, it hasn't been screened since its original one-week release in Phoenix in 1984, nor has MGM ever made it available on home video. But a second-generation print is illegally streaming on a site originating from Russia. Haven't they made the world suffer enough?

BONUS POINTS: A lot of the bit players were stage and movie actors going back to the 1930s. One familiar face is Calvin DeForest, aka Larry "Bud" Melman from David Letterman's late-night series. Also, the closing credits' "The End" is identical to the style used by MGM in the 1930s. 

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