And you tell me over and over and over again, my friend

[sovay]

On the telehealth this afternoon with the nurse practitioner, I had the opportunity to include "comedically loud sneezing" among my repertoire of symptoms. I am being treated for a presumption of bronchitis for a week, after which if I do not improve I have to walk into a building and get X-rayed. Please cross your fingers for Team Bronchitis. In the meantime, have some links.

1. I learned this story originally from the radio astronomy side: "Why You Generally Can't Find TV Stations on Channel 37."

2. I'm not crazy about the headline, but it belongs to an intelligent essay by Emily Mortimer: "How 'Lolita' Escaped Obscenity Laws and Cancel Culture." Also I grew up on her father's books and scripts and I had no idea of the connection.

3. I knew how much Henry Ford had angered American Jews (I wrote him a haiku once!), but I did not know our calendar had in fact come for him.

So both days of this weekend I had recording sessions over Zoom with A Besere Velt, in consequence of which in the evenings I was a puddle of mush with a cat on it and occasionally coughing, in consequence of which I fell face-first into The Greatest American Hero (1981–83), in consequence of which I have now been playing Barry McGuire's "Eve of Destruction" for something over twelve hours: sholio has the full story. Music licensing for home release is beginning to assume the proportions of a devil. I am enjoying the series immensely. It is one of the shows where the narrative level of the plot is almost always nonsense, but all of the character work is engaging and sound and sometimes criminally endearing—it's not at all serialized, but it has continuity and growth. Robert Culp's Bill Maxwell has been added to my list of favorite characters. I suspect the show of being terrifically idtastic, but most of the time its id is really nice.

Comments

[sovay]

--I like this guy (and I love your "he would be completely intolerable").

I found him irresistible. I've also realized there's an angle from which he reminds me of Fflewddur, which is the recurring disparity between all the things Bill says about himself and his actions which make him out a liar in ways that are almost always more human and appealing and impressive than if he were just imperviously hard-boiled. Like the exchange I love so much at the end of The Book of Three (1964):

"We held off the war band," Fflewddur said, "until we were sure you were well away. Some them should have occasion to think unkindly of us for a while to come." The bard's face lit up. "There we were," he cried, "fighting like madmen, hopelessly outnumbered. But a Fflam never surrenders! I took on three at once. Slash! Thrust! Another seized me from behind, the wretched coward. But I flung him off. We disengaged them and made for Caer Dathyl, chopping and hacking all the way, beset on all sides . . ."

Taran expected Fflewddur's harp strings to sunder at any moment. To his surprise, they held firm.

"And so," Fflewddur concluded with a carefree shrug, "that was our part. Rather easy, when you come down to it; I had no fear of things going badly, not for an instant."

A string broke with a deep twang.

Fflewddur bent down to Taran. "Terrified," he whispered. "Absolutely green."

I fully believe Bill would save a child from drowning and then try to claim he'd just felt like going for a swim.

[asakiyume]

Oh I remember that scene! Or more specifically--I remember Taran expecting the strings to break, and they hold, and then break at the next moment.

Yes, wonderful--wonderful!

Magnificent gestures, underplayed. I'm remembering in A Wind in the Door when Mr. Jenkins tries to scuff up the new shoes he buys for Calvin, so it won't look like he went out and bought them.

[sovay]

Magnificent gestures, underplayed.

It enables him to be weird and petty about the small stuff, which is also somehow endearing. This is a man who absentmindedly eats dog biscuits and claims to own a glove compartment of gun magazines for the crosswords, of which the topper is that he actually does the crosswords. I don't think you can find a topic of conversation he can't grouch about. And he always comes through.

I'm remembering in A Wind in the Door when Mr. Jenkins tries to scuff up the new shoes he buys for Calvin, so it won't look like he went out and bought them.

Bill is extremely in the meme of "'Look how much I don't care,' I shouted, while loudly caring."

[sholio]

I fully believe Bill would save a child from drowning and then try to claim he'd just felt like going for a swim.

I believe it too, especially after the gold mine episode when he very clearly would rather have Ralph think he's a selfish, money-grubbing asshole than admit that he wants the lion's share of the proceeds because he plans to give it all to his semi-destitute former FBI friend.

p.s. Now I'm making gifs.

[sovay]

I believe it too, especially after the gold mine episode when he very clearly would rather have Ralph think he's a selfish, money-grubbing asshole than admit that he wants the lion's share of the proceeds because he plans to give it all to his semi-destitute former FBI friend.

I loved that. And I loved that he confesses to Ralph that he was tempted not to go through with his plan, but he does, even when he thinks that all he can offer Harlan is his own small share of the strike. "You taught me to shoot straight. Don't change the rules on me now."

p.s. Now I'm making gifs.

HOORAY.

(Bill actually is a pretty decent liar so long as he's not trying it on his friends—his improvised technobabble, his field-agent fast talk, his various cover stories tend to work. It's just that if Pam or Ralph look hard at him, he is suddenly, inexplicably transparent.)

[sholio]

(Bill actually is a pretty decent liar so long as he's not trying it on his friends—his improvised technobabble, his field-agent fast talk, his various cover stories tend to work. It's just that if Pam or Ralph look hard at him, he is suddenly, inexplicably transparent.)

Yeah; I agree! It's definitely one of the things I like about him - he's not incompetent, bumbling, or stupid. He's very good at what he does! But he absolutely can't put one over on Ralph and Pam (at least not for very long). They know him too well, they know all his tells, and I also like to think that he finds them difficult to lie to because he's just too damn fond of those kids.

[sovay]

- he's not incompetent, bumbling, or stupid. He's very good at what he does!

I was just explaining to spatch how much I love that however deeply weird Bill might be as a human being, the show has never walked his professional competence back. He's not a front. He has an ace up his sleeve in Ralph, but without his silent partner he would still be, as he says and means it, "a good Fed." (He'd just be a lot lonelier and wouldn't have the fun of turning in reports so seamless and shining that Carlisle knows they can't be kosher and can never prove it. He might have lost fewer cars. I suspect he would have the same number of broken bones.) Which fits the show's general philosophy: it works on the principle of improv comedy, it knows how to "yes, and." It's not limited to character development or the properties of the suit. Just about any one-off invention can be incorporated going forward. Ralph's students got a band together that one time and now L.A. Freeway just exists; it hasn't been plot-relevant again, but it has performed onscreen. Bill's grey suit got its shoulder torn out that one time with the trains and the amnesia and it's had a visible seam ever since. I am unspeakably charmed by the fact that Bill can wander into Ralph's kitchen and wander out with a box of dog biscuits because Ralph doesn't own a dog, meaning the only reason those biscuits are in his kitchen is because Bill, God love him, has a taste for them. People's lives just keep accumulating detail. The plots keep being nonsense, but I'll take it.

They know him too well, they know all his tells, and I also like to think that he finds them difficult to lie to because he's just too damn fond of those kids.

I really think he does. He doesn't make that stalling sound just a beat too long for anyone else.

[sholio]

Just about any one-off invention can be incorporated going forward. Ralph's students got a band together that one time and now L.A. Freeway just exists; it hasn't been plot-relevant again, but it has performed onscreen. Bill's grey suit got its shoulder torn out that one time with the trains and the amnesia and it's had a visible seam ever since.

Yes! (Although I missed the seam. What a good detail.) What this show lacks in sane plots, it makes up for in character and detail continuity. I just hit the run of episodes where there's a one-off episode with the characters in the Caribbean ... and then they're still in the Caribbean in the next one, having a different adventure on the same vacation. That's a level of continuity you really don't expect from most early-80s TV, even if it's utterly goofball otherwise.

The show is also full of little touches and callbacks that make the characters feel like real people, as they evolve over time. Bill goes from pointing a gun at Tony in the first episode, to accusing Tony of stealing his hubcaps (which gets another callback a couple of episodes later), to having Tony willingly hand over the keys to HIS beloved car (that Bill helped him get back!) in mid-season-two when Bill needs it for a car chase. And that's not even a major character relationship in the show! Bill's nicknames for Pam (honey, angel, sweetheart, etc) have clearly gone from being condescending in the first couple of episodes to genuine affection - from "You're good troops, Angel" in 1x02, and Pam's eyeroll, to his breathless "Angel? You okay?" in the one I just watched, the (*very deep sigh*) voodoo episode, where it lands very differently.

[sovay]

What a good detail.

I'm pretty sure he mended it himself, too. It's not badly done, it just has that certain air of field surgery.

(There are such good details on this show. I so wish its network hadn't screwed with it.)

That's a level of continuity you really don't expect from most early-80s TV, even if it's utterly goofball otherwise.

I didn't expect it, even after the first Caribbean episode explicitly stated that Bill was flying back to the U.S. while the rest of the cast bounced around the islands for the next few weeks. I figured we'd catch up with them after the end of their vacation. Instead I got to see even more of Bill in shorts. (And occasionally boxers.)

Bill goes from pointing a gun at Tony in the first episode, to accusing Tony of stealing his hubcaps (which gets another callback a couple of episodes later), to having Tony willingly hand over the keys to HIS beloved car (that Bill helped him get back!) in mid-season-two when Bill needs it for a car chase.

Yes! It's especially wonderful because it's such a low-key progression: no one comments on it, flags it for the audience, etc. I've just started the third season and no one comments on the fact that Bill just comes over for dinner these days. He's just there and he has opinions about burgers.

It took me until the second season to realize I recognized Tony from Streets of Fire (1984), where he memorably had a sledgehammer fight with Willem Dafoe. It helped seeing Michael Paré's name in the regular credits.

Bill's nicknames for Pam (honey, angel, sweetheart, etc) have clearly gone from being condescending in the first couple of episodes to genuine affection - from "You're good troops, Angel" in 1x02, and Pam's eyeroll, to his breathless "Angel? You okay?" in the one I just watched, the (*very deep sigh*) voodoo episode, where it lands very differently.

Yes to all of this, including the deep sigh.