Friday, Mar. 15, 1968
The Art of Televising the Arts
It was a week when most of the specials, for a change, deserved the title of special. CBS led the parade with S. Hurok Presents--Part II, and the indefatigable impresario produced a musical program of a quality that television has not achieved in years. Pianist Artur Rubinstein performed Beethoven's Concerto in G Major, Violinist David Oistrakh played Bach's Concerto in A Minor, and the Bolshoi Ballet danced a segment of Act II of Giselle. Throughout the 90-minute show, both music and ballet were presented on their own terms--without the usual TV camera tricks and, more important, without commercial interruption. In the 60-second intermissions, the Dreyfus Fund simply posted its name on the screen and then chimed a warning bell 20 seconds before the show resumed.
In the musical segments, CBS Director William Graham focused almost exclusively on Oistrakh and Rubinstein, dollying and zooming around them with gentle art, highlighting the dexterity of their finger work and the rapt expressions of two of the craggiest and most variable countenances in all the performing arts. In the Bolshoi segment, he gave the home viewer the same kind of steady, pictorial flow that is available from a good theater seat.
Carry On. NBC offered Dear Mr. Gable, a brisk review of the multifaceted life of the longtime king of Holly wood. There was footage of Gable with Mary Astor in Red Dust (1932), scenes from his triumph with Grace Kelly 22 years later in Mogambo. And there were shots of Gable as an Air Corps Captain in World War II.
As one of the first and foremost exponents of the "treat 'em rough" school of film romance, Gable was the ultimate hero, to whom defeat was unacceptable. Yet one of the most incongruous moments in Dear Mr. Gable was a clip from the one big flop of his career, the 1937 Parnell. "Carry on my fight for Ireland. I charge you. See that Ireland is never defeated," said Gable on Parnell's deathbed. His acting was not equal to the role, and audiences chuckled when they saw the tough-guy trying to play the patriot. He picked later roles more carefully, and fans never laughed again.
From Cunning to Frenzy. ABC put on Wolper Productions' three-part documentary based on William L. Shirer's exhaustive 1959 history, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich. "Historical villains can sometimes become heroes as the years pass," says Producer-Director Jack Kaufman. "I think it's important to remind young people not to dismiss past horrors lightly or think of Hitler as a kind of fantasy or legend."
He offered a grim reminder, for Rise and Fall displayed the sins of the Third Reich with chilling clarity. Drawing upon 2,000,000 feet of old German newsreels and propaganda movies, and newly filmed interviews with some of Hitler's former cronies, Rise and Fall recreated the era in indelible detail. Who could turn away as the cunning on Hitler's face changed to frenzy while he ranted before a monster rally? Who could miss the dedication of his followers as they cleared Germany's streets of Hitler's political and ideological enemies, or as they guarded the fires at Dachau? Germany and the world turned away at the time. TV, last week, made its audience remember.
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