Was it all Real?

Some of us grew up with the fantastical world of Ray Harryhausen. He’s the special effects guru who helped bring out the child in all of us with his otherworldly creations. He gave us something to remember.

You might not know his name. But his creations? They live on in the endless movies he’s been associated wit: The skeletons swordmen coming to life in “Jason and the Argonauts.” The Kali from “The Golden Voyage of Sinbad.” The ill-tempered Cyclops from “Seventh Voyage of Sinbad.” He’s also responsible for the more monsters coming to life in the full-screen epic “Mysterious Island.” There was a mythologial beauty in his films.

His contributions to the film industry, during his time, remains unmatched. No other person brought a spectacular realism to his work. The audiences remained captivated by his art. His career began with "Might Young Joe" way back in 1949. His work spanned decades of inspiration.

For the longest time, the film industry looked for ways to make their fantasy films cheaper. Nobody wanted to push the budget over the edge afterwards and model effects at the time continued to be all-consuming. Eating up the budget. They looked for other ways to get around those problems without making films looking like a dud.

Harryhausen was the answer. His studies in slow-motion animation turned out to be a cheaper way of creating creatures that would otherwise not exist in our world. His work was meticulous. In stop-motion photography, every clay figure had to be manipulated a frame at a time. His work also went by another name of dynamation.

Yet he was great. Even compared to today’s standards, with the computer-savvy graphics, the films still hold up pretty good. So influential was his work that you can find imitations everywhere.

He belonged to a whole different generation of effects. His mastery gave us so much to appreciate. His work remains exceptional. Timeless. We owe a lot to him.

Other people paid their respects to the guy. You can see the skeletons coming back to life again in the “Army of Darkness.” Hand-held manipulation. Everything done one frame at a time. You could also see the same process in the current animated works by Tim Burton. There’s no getting away from Harryhausen. His work speaks for itself. Even if you don’t know his name.

So secretive was Harryhausen was about his work. He was like the stage magician who didn’t give away his tricks. He was a wizard who didn't talk about his recipes. He wanted people to be caught up with the magic. Harryhausen did talk about the giant crossbow used in the first Sinbad movie. It was actually a two-inch miniature. Somehow I still watch the film in disbelief. Remarkable.

His name remains synomous to FX. In a tell-tale time when there were no computers to help us, Harryhausen was a pioneer in the film industry of special effects. And he made us believe in those other worlds of sword and sorcery.

Spaceballs 2? I'll pass.

I hear Spaceballs 2 is in the works.

I hear ships sinking. I hear volcanoes erupting. I hear earthquakes hitting. And that’s on a good day.

The first Spaceballs wasn’t funny at all. No, let me take that back. I really despised it. Perhaps I don’t have a sense of humor.

That isn’t it. A lot of things are funny. What’s funny? The Marx Brothers are funny. Woody Allen is funny. George Bush Sr. not getting a second term is funny.

But not Spaceballs.

I’ll tell you why. People believe science-fiction fans are dumb. That’s the premise of the first film. Science-fiction fans can be easily duped.

That’s always the problem. There’s an easy dumbness crowding the genre. It’s getting to be a very common thing here. It goes back to the first insult. It goes back to “sci-fi.” The abbreviation of it should tell wonders. We’re supposed to respect the genre. Not dumb it down. But they like to make it stupid. Look at the Sci-Fi channel.

During the late 1970s, a science-fiction advisor once told George Lucas during the making the Star Wars film that ships can’t explode in space, that sound can’t travel in space. Space is essentially a vacuum. Therefore sounds have nothing to travel through. It’s empty. Lucas said something like this, “Look, I got a lot of money tied into this thing. If people want to hear a boom, I’ll give them a boom.”

We should’ve taken that as a deadly omen.

Now we’re bombarded by many more bad science-fiction films, oh excuse me, it’s sci-fi. Hollywood keeps churning them out. Spaceballs just helped to solidify the dumbness of it all in 1987. The film helped sealed the fate of the genre by hammering in the final nail to the coffin. It’s saying, hey, don’t mind me, it’s okay to think and make fun of the genre because people think it’s dumb already.

The film is filled with jokes that aren’t funny. With the kind of acting that might’ve made William Shatner blush. Perhaps it should’ve been sucked into a vacuum just like Lucas’ advice was.

Though Spaceballs 2 might be given a name Lucas might be proud of: the Search for More Money. Maybe Lucas will have a cameo in it. Just look for a bearded guy with a holdout looking for cash.

I do respect Mel Brooks greatly and his script is apparently in the works for this new Spaceballs film. This is the same man who gave us “Blazing Saddles” and “Young Frankenstein.” Those are classics to the umpteenth degree. With Spaceballs, my respect hits rock-bottom. Not since the news of Mel's second coming have I got the bad vibes. And I thought Greedo shooting first in the Star Wars rehash was bad enough.

I hope Brooks steers clear of making the next Spaceballs. How are they going to make another one without John Candy? Sure, I don’t have to go in the theaters. I’d rather have my pinkie stapled to a burning wall.

But the bad, dumb movies of sci-fi? They'll keep coming.

Perhaps something good will come through. A funny, and smart, comedy.

Catching a couple weekend movies...

I stayed put in bed for the most part of last weekend. Ended up in the hospital for a couple of hours Friday night. Not fun. Didn't go out much. Except for a little venture to the Reptile Palace on Saturday night to see a few bands play. Wasn’t feeling terribly good. So I needed to rest up.

So what do I do when I spend my time laying around in the apartment? I turn to the movies.

Oshkosh got a Cinema 10 propped up along highway 41. I had a lot of choices since I haven’t gone to the movies for the longest time. It’s the ticket prices that keep me away.

I squeezed in some time to see “Underworld: Evolution” Saturday afternoon. Paid the matinee price for it. It's not a bad flick. It could be better. It's like mindless popcorn drivel. Spiked with cool effects. And a blood lust to boot.

I like vampires. That helps. I’ve always been interested in anything vampy. It’s also the sequel to “Underworld” which came out a couple of years ago.

Kate Beckinsale plays an ideal vampire. Her pale, sleek features betray a sensual beauty… with more curves than Route 66. Her character Selene learns more about her family secrets. And the beginnings of the vampire/werewolf lores. Watching the interplay between the fanged-filled monsters and furry beasts harks back to the Ray Harryhausen movie days. Just a bit more updated.

I would prefer more characterization. That's always the heart of the story. New Orleans' Anne Rice made her own vampires impossibly human in her books. The same could be done here. They carry with them a burden. Their lives are often unending chapters. There's so more that could be done with this film. Instead, the characters are little more than cardboard cutouts.

I got to see “Chronicles of Narnia” during Sunday evening’s showing. I liked this one better. It helped me move me into another world. The beauty of this Narnia seemed so alien. The four main children find the ice-dampened world through a wardrobe. There's a feared winter. It's no longer a paradise. This Disney adaptation remains a pretty headstrong one... many worthwhile qualities.

Chronicles' author C.S. Lewis is an odd duck. He married a woman twenty-five years older than himself. He was a Catholic. And those Christian trends weave into the film. The most important: betrayal. As in Judas betraying Christ. You see a lot of backstabbing in the film: the faun Mr. Tumnus betraying Lucy, Edmond betraying his sisters and brother. There’s even the rebirth/resurrection theme surrounding the lion Aslan, Narnia's true ruler.

Interestingly enough, one of the Pride of Lions in Oshkosh is named after Aslan. It is #29 on the website.

The final battle remains an incredible action piece. However, it's supposed to rival the World War II scene at the film's beginning. The classic fight between good and evil.

The Pevensie siblings turned out to be great actors. There’s a feeling of innocence in the film. And discovery. Its beauty still reels from the simplicity of the film. “Chronicles” allows for children to find good role models. And yes, the animals do talk. In perfect English too.

These weekends don’t last long. I appreciate taking the time out and just catching a few flicks. Now I'll see about staying out of the hospitals.

Red Robins comes to Oshkosh

Red Robins was the talk of the town long before it opened in Oshkosh last Monday. Most of my friends wanted to eat there and many more knew what to expect from Red Robins after previous visits to other locations.

Good food. Good folks. A good time.

There's a Red Robins already in Combined Locks right along highway CE. It’s a bit far away. There’s another in Green Bay. That’s even further away. Also four other locations in Wisconsin. But to think of a Red Robbins here in Oshkosh?

Yet, it's here. Takes a while for reality to set in for me.

It’s on the corner of 600 S. Koeller Street. Right off the highway 41. Easy access. You can’t miss it. If you did, then you probably don’t have that big of an appetite. Used to be where Razz Ma Tazz was propped up. Before that it was Hardee’s. There’s even a surviving remaint of Hardee’s in the Red Robins structure. Just a corner, I think.

The suspense was building for friend Tim and myself. It's like we’re marking off the calendar. Counting off the minutes. We were in such a hurry to try the food that we went there too early. We looked like fools. That's not hard to do.

It was on a Thursday afternoon when I pulled into the parking lot, got out of the Ford Escort and walked straight into the Red Robins restaurant. Tim walked in wearing the typical Chicago Bears jacket. Don't knock him. He loves his football team.

I neglected to see the big banner they had hanging out front telling about its grand opening the following Monday. We both did. We walked inside there blind and stupid and hungry. I got a welcoming reception telling me the disappointing news, “We’re not open yet.”

My friend almost had a heart attack. However, we had Monday to look forward to. That was opening day.

Monday came and went. I got to eat at Red Robbins on their debut. I had a five alarm burger. The food’s a little messy. But that’s to be expected. The french fries were awesome. It’s a bit more pricey, but you also get the experience of being in a gourmet restaurant.

There's also the Banzai Burger and the Pot Roast Burger. Along with other American Classics. There's beers and wines to top off the evening. Let's not forget that Red Robins is a fast growing food chain.

Tim didn’t go with me that Monday night. I wonder if he made it to opening day. If he didn’t, then I beat him to it. I’ll let him know that the food’s pretty earthshattering the next time I talk to him.

It seems that that particular spot is a curse. There’s a couple of restaurants that went out of business. You’d think it’s a good spot because it’s so close to the highway. Is Red Robins going to stick around for a long time? I like to think so.

Horror-esque

I complain a lot about horror movies lately.

No longer are they scary types making kids hide behind their sofas. These horror movies turn out to be a different breed. More sick than scary. So disgusting that I wonder what sort of value they’re playing at in these dead-end flicks.

I won’t go see “Saw.” I have a problem with “House of 1000 Corpses.” Somehow they seem to focus so much on the torture. It seems to fall back to the teenager mentality of shock effect: going for the jugular doesn’t always work. These movies don’t really appeal to me much.

It doesn’t help that slasher films seeped into the big screen like a raiding stampede during the 1980s: from Friday the 13th to Nightmare on Elm Street. You know the story. Dumb kids go to Crystal Lake. They know about prior deaths related to the lake. Jason comes out and gets all (or most) of dumb kids. End of movie.

We’re constantly fed with recycled crap. Gives horror a bad rep. They’ll keep cranking ‘em out more often than stuffed Chucky dolls at the nearest specialty shops.

There’s definitely something about seeing horror movies that make goosebumps. How they make you turn to look around the corners. Maybe find a shadow moving.

Far and between, there’s some good stuff. You can check out the granddaddy of slashers. “Psycho” remains effective to this very day. It starts with the lead stealing money from a bank and goes to the Bates Motel just off a beaten track. She gets second thoughts about taking that money. We feel sympathetic to her. Maybe she’s feeling a little guilty. We begin to know this character after it builds up for a half-hour. Then bam. She gets knifed in the shower. It’s a scream.

A lot of older movies go for atmosphere. You need an air of dread to make a scary film work. Especially when dealing with 18th century London. Hammer Horror Films, a studio in England, made great atmospheric horror from the 50s to 70s. Two stalwarts in the Hammer genre: Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing.

These films were flooded with pent-up mood, slowly building up with a momentum. Lee plays Dracula in many Hammer Horror films, a towering figure, his eyes always hypnotic. Cushing plays the best Van Helsing with an easy calmness, always in eternal struggle with the lord of darkness. Both actors shared onscreen time in other horror flicks such as “Horror Express” and “The Creeping Flesh.”

No introduction is needed for Vincent Price. I have great respect for this actor. He’s always memorable. Sometimes he hams it up. But he has fun with his work. You can see it easy in his films. Good ol’ Vincent. His best work would be a cycle of movies based on Edgar Allen Poe. “Masque of Red Death” continues to be a winner for Price. He seems to enjoy torturing people in his films. He does it with a cruel warmth and humor.

I don’t mind gore once in a while. Case in point with the 1985 “Re-Animator.” Makes you want to puke and laugh at the same time. The 1980 version of “The Thing” is much truer to the original story written by Joseph Campbell than the 1950s version. There’re some exceptions to the rule.

But we’re still a long way from constantly turning bad horror flicks. Perhaps finding a little nostalgia may teach restraint for the horror genre.

I’m not getting my hopes up.

If that doesn’t work? Maybe read a horror book.

Indy 4?

The crack of the whip. The swashbuckling hero. The 1930s-style cliffhangers.

Are we going to see actor Harrison Ford take out the fedora and whip from the Smithsonian Museum once more?

The problem is this. It’s taking a long time to get around to making Indiana Jones 4. The rumors are spreading more often than the current whereabouts of the Ark of the Covenant.

Is it a good idea to make another film? I don’t know.

We’re left with the final scenes of Indy, his father and colleagues riding off into the sunset. I liked the third one a lot. The father-and-son motif running through it was a good way of wrapping things up in the trilogy. It’ll be hard to beat. Now there's some fascinating movie ideas stemming from Noah's Ark to the fabled Atlantis.

Someone in the filmmaking business once described a movie as a “goddamn miracle.” Now we’re coming back to familiar grounds. Ford, Lucas and Spielberg finally find the right script to work with. Maybe Ford won’t be feeling the creaks in his knees yet. He says he’ll be doing his own stunts. Not bad for a guy hitting 60. He’s got more guts than I do. Or maybe he’s just crazy.

Anything could happen. Lucas already screwed up twice with the Star Wars prequels before making a decent entry into the flagging series. The same thing could happen with Indiana Jones 4. It could turn out to be a dud. Though director Spielberg seems to have better batting scores when it comes to making halfway decent films. I feel like they should leave the series stand as it is. I love the movie series. I don't want to see it end on a bad note.

Plenty of ways to get the Indiana Jones experience. Try the video game “Indiana Jones and the Emperor’s Tomb” which takes the whip-cracking hero through a global-trotting search for an artifact from Chinese lore. It’s every bit as dedicated and faithful to the movies. The Nazis are in there too. You can never get tired of beating on those guys.

A series of novels which chronicles Indiana Jones from his New Jersey college days up to the more familiar world-weary hero we come to love. Some of the books by Max McCoy uses a great subplot with Indy discovering the Crystal Skulls. We find out why Indy doesn’t like being in a deep relationship with a woman. He's already lost a woman he loves. He doesn't want that to happen again.

I have an early memory of “Raiders of the Lost Ark” when I was just eight-years-old. With Indy dashing through the Peruvian forests as countless Hovitos chase after him. Pure filmmaking. It’s one of the finest movie moment for me. Those movie moments are becoming rarer these days.

If anything else, they’re going to need to make this new movie before the archeologist becomes Grampa Jones.

Lead Me Not in Beaver Dam

It’s a sin for being original in Oshkosh. This town’s become a pothole of creativity for many local bands, hard-working folks trying to get their music out. And getting an audience isn’t always the easiest thing.

That’s why Lead Me Not is breaking away from their homegrown roots in Oshkosh to play in new surroundings, different crowds, and a new bar. But the music is going to be the same. Loud and energetic. Works for these guys every time. They'll have Horns High Productions to back them up this time.

The four-member band plays at Hogs on 112 Rowell Street in Beaver Dam. They’ll be storming the metal-fest with dangerous guitars and soul-searching voices. Nailwounds and When Red Falls Silent join the front-lines of the frantic surge on Saturday January 14. The show costs $3 for cover and starts at 10 p.m. for the late-night crowds. Must be 21 or older.

The electric storm lashes through guitars as steely chords bleed with their music, static pulses pouring with a deafening roar. This is the Oshkosh’s Lead Me Not playing. They’re going to give Beaver Dam a try.

“There are a lot of metal bands in the Oshkosh area,” lead guitarist T.J. Stark says. “But most people will not book a metal band here.”

In a recent phone call Lead Me Not drummer Skrogg tells me Beaver Dam’s gained a rep for being a metal town. His band will fit in nicely. If you like music that’ll make your ears sing with blood, this is the band for you. If not, beware of voracious tidal waves of music pouring from their onslaught.

Lead Me Not's more than just a band. They’re a group of talented musicians. Stark plays guitar as if he owns the skies. His riffs often match Jake Martin’s vocals. The lead singer gives an abrasive, yet melodic sound, which seems to drive stakes into walls with his powerful voice. His words linger in your thoughts after the show is finished.

They’re the core of the band: both longest-serving members from Manitowoc. They also write their own music. Songs like “These Useless Hands” and “Listen” dig into the raw, emotional vibes of humanity and often leaves you numbed with their heartaches. Yet the adrenaline rush pounds into their music, switching into a poetic fragrance, shows their versatility. They’re still writing new music. Creativity's never a dead-end.

The bassist Burc discover many times that it’s a great outlet to play in front of a crowd. His playing helps lay the groundwork for the music.

Lead Me Not went through a lot of drummers. They finally hit the jackpot finding Skrogg in Oshkosh. He’s essentially the glue that holds the band together. He tightens the beat, dropkicks the music into hyperdrive.

“It’s a lot of fun,” Skrogg said. “I knew these guys for a while. I knew the lead singer for a long time.”

If Beaver Dam’s too far for you to go, Lead Me Not will be in town again on January 21 at The Reptile Palace on 141 High Ave. in Oshkosh. This is by far Oshkosh’s best place for the metal scene. A paradise for many original bands. The music of Lead Me Not will grab you by the throat and show no mercy. The sway of their music will purge your soul of idle tendencies and make you rock on. Lead Me Not's army is ever growing.

Christmas with Doctor Who

I couldn’t ask for more. A Doctor Who Christmas special. And there’s an extra gift too. A new lead actor. His name's David Tennant.

Some of you might be scratching your heads over the change of actors. In fact, you might be wondering where the other guy went off. Relax. It’s nothing new to the long-running British series Doctor Who. It’s happened before.

It’s a way of finding another lease of life. A rebirth. But it’s a definite change. The changes in the lead goes back to 1966 with the original actor playing the part. The series’ star William Hartnell took ill and was unable to continue. He struggled with his role, couldn’t remember his lines. His bad health forced him to leave the part after his three years on the show. His grandfatherly pose, the crotchety manners, the cold alieness of his character, none of it would be there. He could no longer go on.

Something needed to be done right away at the time. Was the show going to survive? Yes. Someone came up with the brilliant idea of the “regeneration.” The hero’s body needs to be replaced due to serious damage. His appearance becomes different. So is his personality. He remains an outsider in time and space. It’s a great science-fiction idea.

The concept is flexible. And Doctor Who survives with the times. It explains the reason why the actor needs to make his departure. Why is it they never explain James Bond being replaced so many times? We’re supposed to accept the changes? That’s idiotic. I hate inconsistencies. It makes the stories fallible. Doctor Who comes away with a different lead actor. But at least we’re treated with a reason for it.

Scottish actor Tennant plays his part with an explosive enthusiasm. His acting embraces a wide range of emotions. He’s giddy, confident, smart, witty, all these things rolled together. He’s a far departure from the previous actor Eccleston. He does this all still wearing his pajamas. Tennant already makes the part his own. Even his own assistant Rose Tyler sometimes forgets that he isn't human. That he has special abilities.

I didn’t think I would like the Christmas special. I thought it was going to be stupid. Christmas and science-fiction don’t seem to mix. Yet it’s not a bad show. I wrongly criticized before watching it. There’re some great scenes like the time machine crash landing, the killer Christmas tree and the Doctor’s defense of the planet earth against the alien invasion. Tennant plays his part to perfection.

I’m never sure when they change the lead. But I can take a breather. I know the Doctor Who series is in good hands now thanks to Tennant’s charming performance. I can’t wait for the second season to come around in a few months. I think everyone else in England feels the same way.

Originality is overrated. (And illusory.)

The following caon a list of Gannett- and media-related news items that we're sent daily here at the Northwestern caught my eye:

* Baltimore Sun columnist Michael Olesker, who has been in a high-profile feud with Maryland Gov. Robert Ehrilch, was dismissed Wednesday over several instances in which he used, without attribution, wording similar to that employed by other journalists. Olesker, who has been a Baltimore columnist for nearly three decades, appeared to borrow language from the Wash. Post, N.Y. Times and his own Sun colleagues.

Link (to the Post story. I tried to make it an AP story linked through the NW website, but the way they -- or we, I guess, not that I have any control over what appears at www.thenorthwestern.com -- currently have it set up makes finding a wire story impossible.) Reading it makes pretty clear that this guy didn't exactly turn in someone else's term paper. (I realize it might not be exactly correct, but I'm going to use the term 'plagiarism' for what Olesker got dismissed for.)

If you don't want to read it, the examples given might be plagiarism, but are hardly clear-cut. They two given deal with factual information, either events or demographic trends, and the phrasing is very similar. But how many ways are there to say "ex-Senator Cleland landed in a dirty gutter that had cigarette butts in it when his wheelchair tipped over"? Then you try jazzing that up like a big-city newspaper columnist (don't forget a picturesque action verb), and you see how close you come to what Olesker and who he supposedly plagiarized from say.

Of course, this problem relies on the idea that there is such a thing as originality in this weird, cruel world we have made for ourselves. (I reworked one of my favorite quotes by Hunter S. Thompson there, if you want to know. If it matters.) I disagree with this notion. Nothing comes from nothing; all thought comes from somewhere. If there is ever anything that can be called original, it is the result of a new combination of pre-existing ideas, and it's pointless to try to cite each piece you've received from someone else. Not convinced? Where'd you get the idea of 'plagiarism' from? Do you even remember?

I suppose you could fashion the argument that that's where this guy failed; instead of taking things that someone else said (which is at the heart of what news is after all) and changing them so that they wouldn't recognize the source or telling who it was he got it from, he did a half-assed job of it and didn't bother to mention who it was gave him the original idea -- if he even knew or remembered -- and then got caught (ever the cardinal sin). To me, that's like saying that if you're in a class and a fact you got from the instructor makes it almost verbatim into a paper you write for a different class, you've plagiarized unless you mention who said it. Or that taking a magazine ad, removing a chunk, and then including it in a collage is the same, unless you mention the name of the magazine and who designed the ad.

And that doesn't make no gravy with me. Everyone gets their ideas from somebody else. Blatant copying without admitting it is one thing; being influenced, whether you cite or not, is another. Olesker didn't flat-out copy. (Incidentally, what I can tell is really happening is that the paper has a lawsuit, which Olesker is involved in, going on with the imperial-sounding Maryland Guv'nor and is trying to keep their nose looking squeaky-clean, so they can have a better chance of winning it. And so this poor guy's getting screwed after 30 years of being a Baltimore newspaper man. Mental note: if I stay with the news biz, don't move to Baltimore.) A paragraph? Maybe. A phrase? Try again.

This weekend: On Saturday night The Lemurs are performing another of their all-Misfits cover shows, again at the New Moon. Anyone who caught their show on Halloween will know how much fun it is for old-school punk fans and it will happen much the same as that show, except hopefully the vocals won't cut out as much this time. Show time, I'm told, is 9p, and a special guest may be getting on stage for a couple songs, if he's not too drunk to remember the words (like punk songs have words -- that's a joke I heard from someone I don't remember who :P).

-BlackAndy

A Fawlty Review

Author Theodore Sturgeon once said, "Ninety percent of everything is crap."

That’s a huge chunk of crap. Dig deep down and you might find a gem in that muck. I like to think of British sitcom, much-beloved "Fawlty Towers" as part of the ten percent.

Ex-Monty Python John Cleese is a funny guy. I think he’s one of the funniest blokes around in show biz business. He knows how to tell a good joke. Strange to think this guy started learning law practice during his college days. Where did he get his humor from?

Life.

From the inane, craziness of life. It can be stupid and funny. Cleese got his inspiration from a real-life, rude hotel owner somewhere in England. In fact, Torquay on the English Riviera.

Cleese plays Basil Fawlty. Six-foot-two. Straighter than an arrow. He’s a typical stiff upper-lip, middle class Englishman looking to find a better life. He wants a spot in the Rich and Famous.

He doesn’t. Everything backfires on him. The situation goes from calm to manic in every episode. It’s a farce with a lit fuse ready to explode. It starts with a sparkle. Then ends with a wallop. There’s no way to get away from the insanity. It catches up with you.

His writing shows a clear understanding of the heart of drama. Shows like "Wardoff Salad" or "Gourmet Night" have conflict. You need drama. You’ll have nothing without it. Then there’s also great word play. He has fun with his writing.

Cleese throws in something ridiculously funny into the mix. You end up feeling sorry or laughing at Basil Fawlty. He's such a sad sod. Cleese wrote the series with his then wife Connie Booth who played the waitress. There's a Chaplinesque physical humor to it. With a bit of Marx Brothers thrown in it.

My favorite character is the Spanish waiter Manuel played by Andrew Sachs. He’s a bit too kind. Maybe not the brightest ball in the box. One short of a six pack. But he’s a lovable guy. He’s a great foil for Cleese. The little guy who annoys the authoritative figure.

I haven’t run into too many bad experiences in hotels. But I did run into a bad rap when spending an awful week in Panana City Beach years ago. Bugs ran foul in the bathtub. A $300 phone bill. Staff about as friendly as Al Capone on a good day. I escaped that place on a 4 a.m. plane Friday morning just to get away from that living hell.

“Fawlty Towers” might not be in the classic mould of “Monty Python’s Flying Circus.” But I like to think of it as a kind of spin off from Monty Python. With an extra bit of Cleese in it. It’s undeniably funny stuff. I’m not joking.