When TV Stars Sing, Part Two

 

Welcome back, culture lovers, to Comfort TV’s tribute to (and occasional roasting of) classic TV stars that tried to be singers. As with the previous installment we’ll dig out some long-hidden diamonds, and dig up a few other relics to mock them without mercy. If you’re late to the party, you can read Part One here.

Hogan’s Heroes

I would surmise that most of you will expect Hogan’s Heroes Sing the Best of World War II to be classified in the “what were they thinking?” file. I’d have guessed that too until I first listened to it back in 1995. But once you get past the group rendition of the series’ theme, which is not improved by a lyric (“We’re all heroes, up to our ear-oes”) this is a marvelous album, with impressive solo turns by Ivan Dixon, Robert Clary and Larry Hovis.

Dixon’s jazzy cover of “Shoo-Shoo Baby” merits stylistic comparisons to Joe Williams and Johnny Hartman. Clary puts a jubilant, Mel Torme spin on “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree,” and Hovis shows off an unexpectedly rich baritone on “Lili Marlene.” Richard Dawson opted for a dramatic reading, entitled “This is Worth Fighting For.” Only drawback – no Werner Klemperer-John Banner duet on “Der Fuehrer’s Face.” 

Star Trek

Here’s where it gets scary. Three original crewmembers of the Starship Enterprise boldly went into a recording studio, and two of them should have been beamed out immediately. No form of Romulan torture could be worse than The Transformed Man, a now-legendary trainwreck of a concept album recorded by William Shatner in 1968. Not content with a simple cash-in-on-Kirk record, Shatner unleashes an astonishingly pretentious treatise on man’s place in the universe, with stops along the way for bizarre covers of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” and Dylan’s “Mr. Tambourine Man,” among others. Once heard, they are never forgotten.

At least Shatner learned his lesson after one attempt. Leonard Nimoy made the highly illogical decision to record five albums of his Vulcan vocalese, rarely with the same label twice, which should have told him something. His covers of “Proud Mary” and “Put a Little Love in Your Heart,” from The New World of Leonard Nimoy, sound like 45 rpm recordings played at 33 1/3. And yet, I must admit a perverse desire to hear his single “The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins” added to Peter Jackson’s bloated Hobbit trilogy, if only to wake up the audience. 

Nichelle Nichols is the only Star Trek alumnus (until Brent Spiner from Next Generation) with any legitimate right to sing into a microphone. She shared a stage with Duke Ellington at the age of 16, and made numerous nightclub appearances before, during and after her time as Lt. Uhura.

Get Smart

The Get Smart soundtrack album, like those released for Mr. Ed, Flipper, Dennis the Menace and several other shows, consisted primarily of dialog snippets from the series and instrumental music. That would not merit inclusion here, were it not for Barbara Feldon’s performance of “99” and “Max.” Her speaking voice is deep and very sexy. But when she sings, it sounds like an off-key Mae West impersonator at a Vegas lounge show where they’ll waive the two-drink minimum if you promise not to leave early. 

The Odd Couple

The Odd Couple Sings, released in 1968, featured Tony Randall and Jack Klugman backed by, believe it or not, the London Festival Orchestra and Chorus. Randall’s turn-of-the-century music hall style has a certain goofball charm, but the same cannot be said of Klugman’s take on Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain.” “Ya prob’ly tink dis sawng is about ya,” growls Oscar to Felix, while the London Festival Orchestra and Chorus suppress a collective chuckle.

Medical Center

Apparently, the law compelling any hunky young star of a medical show to cut a record (see Ben Casey and Dr. Kildare) had not expired by the 1970s. Chad Everett took time out from making patients swoon on Medical Center to record two albums, one of which features his wooden take on the Bee Gees’ “Nights on Broadway.” Nurse, AutoTune, stat! 

The Brady Bunch

There were four Brady Bunch albums that achieved moderate sales before landing in the cut-out bin. But the series’ evolution into a cultural touchstone for the baby boomer generation prompted a “Best of” CD compilation that sold in the hundreds of thousands. Yes, I bought one. Performances range from competent (“Merry Go Round,” “Time to Change”) to dreadful (“American Pie”), but the songs that were featured in the show, especially “It’s a Sunshine Day,” will always make me smile. 

Starsky and Hutch

David Soul’s #1 hit “Don’t Give Up on Us” is one of my favorite ’70s songs. It was his only US hit, though Hutch was big business in England, where he landed 4 more songs in the top 20 including a second #1 with “Silver Lady.” Previously, he had been an unheralded opening act for bands like The Doors and The Byrds, and made several appearances on The Merv Griffin Show as “The Covered Man,” singing with a ski mask over his head to hide his identity. The gimmick didn’t get him a recording contract, but it got him a meeting with the casting director who launched his TV career on Here Come the Brides. 

Wonder Woman

“Toto I get the feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore…”

Sound familiar? It does if you were watching TV in the ‘70s. Lynda Carter did everything she could to make her first single, “Toto (Don’t it Feel Like Paradise)” a hit. She performed it on the third season Wonder Woman episode “Amazon Hot Wax,” on her 1978 television special, and on every talk show that would have her. It didn’t work. But Carter can sing – you can see her live this October at Lincoln Center. 

The Waltons

I had never listened to (or even known about) Walton Christmas – Together Again until a few years ago, when a friend bought it on eBay. His high bid was one penny. The album was released in 1999, 18 years after the end of the series, and reunited most of the cast members and Waltons creator Earl Hamner, who once again provides a gentle voiceover introduction. Jon Walmsley (Jason) was always the most musical of the cast, and is prominently featured, but you’ll also hear songs and stories from the rest of the brood and their parents (Michael Learned and Ralph Waite). Even those with a high tolerance for corny sentiment might find it all a bit much, but during the holiday season I have caught myself humming the chorus to “Snowman Land.”

The Dukes of Hazzard

Released in 1982, the Dukes of Hazzard album has Boss Hogg (Sorrell Booke) narrating a song cycle that chronicles events surrounding a Hazzard road race. John Schneider, already in the midst of a successful country music career, performed “In the Driver’s Seat,” and Tom Wopat covered The Band’s “Up on Cripple Creek.” Both of the Duke boys were and are first-rate singers – I’ve seen them both on Broadway, Schneider in Grand Hotel and Wopat in Annie Get Your Gun. Catherine Bach’s version of “Downhome American Girl” isn’t quite as polished, though our men in uniform didn’t have any complaints when she performed the song on USO tours.

Laverne & Shirley

This was just not a good idea. Laverne & Shirley Sing (1976) was the album title, and truth in advertising would have demanded a question mark at the end of that phrase. Appropriately, series stars Penny Marshall and Cindy Williams cover 1950s and ‘60s pop hits like “Da Doo Ron Ron” and “I’m Walkin’.” The first single was “Sixteen Reasons,” which pales next to the Connie Stevens version (and that’s not exactly setting the bar high). Promos proclaimed that “this is the album that 50,00,000 fans have been waiting for.” Sales, however, were so disappointing that it’s unlikely even the Big Ragu bought one. 

Charlie’s Angels

After singing on the Josie and the Pussycats record, Cheryl Ladd parlayed her Charlie’s Angels fame into a brief recording career that was bigger in Japan than it was here. “Think it Over” from her first album barely scratched the top 40 (it peaked at #34 in 1978). But just look at that album cover. 

When TV Stars Sing, Part One

 

I know what you’re thinking. This is going to be a succession of cheap shots at actors who try to parlay their television stardom into a singing career, regardless of actual singing ability. If that’s the only reason you’re here…you won’t be disappointed.

But there’s more to the story than ridiculing people more popular and successful than us, even when they deserve it. The records in question were not all disastrous – it’s just that the disastrous ones are more fun to talk about. Some are quite good. Some, in fact, are excellent.

Let’s bypass the two most obvious selections – The Monkees and The Partridge Family, as both shows revolved around professional musical groups, and a certain level of proficiency was required to sell that premise. In both cases that level was not just met but greatly exceeded. The Brady Bunch, however, is still fair game.

Even with a two-part entry I won’t be able to cover them all, so I tried to single out the ones that were the most interesting, or the most infamous. 

Let’s start at the very beginning, which as we learned in The Sound of Music, is a very good place to start.

Ricky Nelson

Not only was Ricky Nelson the first TV star to embark upon a successful music career, he remains the standard by which all similar crossover attempts are measured. He was also television’s first teen idol, establishing the template for everyone from Johnny Crawford to Davy Jones to Zac Efron. 

The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet debuted in 1952, with the Nelson family – Ozzie, Harriet and sons David and Ricky – all playing themselves. Rick formed a band in a 1956 episode, and in 1957 he performed a cover of Fats Domino’s “I’m Walkin’” on the show. The original was still in the top 40, but that didn’t stop Ricky’s version from reaching #4 on Billboard’s Hot 100.

Viewers watched Nelson’s performances on TV and then bought his albums, and those who heard him sing on the radio would then tune into the series. That’s the kind of cross-promotional win-win that makes studios, networks, agents and managers salivate.

Ricky Nelson had 35 top-40 hits between 1957 and 1972, including such pop classics as “Hello Mary Lou,” “Travelin’ Man,” “It’s Late” and “Poor Little Fool.” He was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1987. 

Bonanza

If you find it hard to believe that the cast of Bonanza recorded an album, you would be right – they actually recorded two albums. Both Ponderosa Party Time and Christmas on the Ponderosa featured Lorne Greene, Dan Blocker, Pernell Roberts and Michael Landon attempting four-part harmony and missing by a mile. But there’s a good-natured spirit to their attempts that comes through, so at least you know they had fun trying. 

The Donna Reed Show

Sometimes ego propels actors into the music business, but sometimes they are just following orders.

Tony Owen, the producer of The Donna Reed Show (and Donna’s husband) attempted to replicate Ricky Nelson’s crossover success by having series stars Shelley Fabares and Paul Petersen record songs that would be incorporated into upcoming episodes. Both rejected the idea, professing their lack of musical ability with refreshing candor.

But Owen was adamant, so in 1962 Fabares recorded the teenage love anthem “Johnny Angel.” Darlene Love sang backup and Glen Campbell played guitar. The song was #1 for two weeks and stayed in the top 5 for two months. She put out new music for the next three years, but nothing else clicked. 

Petersen also made the charts, first with “She Can’t Find Her Keys” and then with the top 10 hit “My Dad,” which no classic TV fan can remember without getting a little misty.

The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis

On “Songs by Dwayne Hickman” (1960), the Dobie Gillis star “presents his outlook on life for the first time in song,” according to the liner notes. The trouble is that Hickman sounded eerily like Perry Como, which is probably not the cutting edge sound that Capitol Records wanted from TV’s quintessential teenager. Compare his rendition of “Don’t Send a Rabbit” to Como’s “Round and Round” and you’ll be amazed at the similarities. 

Dr. Kildare/ Ben Casey

The stars of the top two medical shows of the 1960s both attempted music careers, but only Richard Chamberlain (Kildare) has any measurable success. He hit the top 10 with a cover of his show’s theme song in 1962, and returned to the top 40 with his interpretations of Elvis’s “Love Me Tender” and The Everly Brothers’ “All I Have to Do is Dream.”

Hey, this is easy, thought Ben Casey star Vince Edwards. But his first album debuted in 1962 and died on the table. 

Car 54, Where Are You?

Joe E. Ross, who played Officer Gunther Toody opposite Fred Gwynne’s Officer Francis Muldoon, recorded Love Songs From a Cop in 1963. “His singing is not about to give Frank Sinatra concern,” read the liner notes in the understatement of the millennium. But series fans will smile when he incorporates Toody’s trademark “Woo! Woo!” exclamation in his cover of “Ma, She’s Makin’ Eyes at Me.”

The Rifleman

Johnny Crawford, who played the son of homesteader Lucas McCain (Chuck Connors) in The Rifleman, parlayed his teen idol fame into a  brief moment of pop stardom.  As is usually the case with these crossovers, his first release was the most successful – the single “Cindy’s Birthday” reached #8 in 1962. The hits and misses all sound more or less the same – syrupy arrangements meant to hide Crawford’s quivery, high-pitched warblings. His rending of Richie Valens’ “Donna” is particularly painful. Despite the fact that he only had four top-40 hits, he somehow managed to put out two Greatest Hits albums. 

The Beverly Hillbillies

The 1965 Beverly Hillbillies album is an odd mix of music and comedy that features all of the series’ stars, including Raymond Bailey (Mr. Drysdale) and Nancy Kulp (Miss Hathaway) who duet on a little ditty called “Love of Money.” Donna Douglas (Elly Mae) sings about her “critters,” and Irene Ryan (Granny) croons the tender “Vittles.” Saving grace – the show’s theme, performed by Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs.

The Patty Duke Show

Patty Duke’s self-titled 1965 album, the first of six (!), produced two chart singles, “Say Something Funny” and the top-10 “Don’t Just Stand There.” What I like about her performances is that, unlike other neophyte singers who adopt a “just follow the melody and try to stay on pitch” approach, Patty barrels into the lyrics like it’s karaoke night at a Brooklyn Heights bar, and she’s on her third Long Island Iced Tea. 

The Flying Nun

“Sally Field is many things, including a typical American girl and a marvelous young actress, but she never, in her wildest dreams, thought that she would become a singer.” So begin the liner notes of Sally Field – Star of The Flying Nun. And Sally was right – she never did become a singer. Music supervisor Lester Sill ( a one-time Monkees producer) does his best to make the tracks palatable, usually by boosting Field’s vocals with a Grand Canyon’s worth of echo, and then burying her in a blanket of backup singers. 

The Andy Griffith Show

Remember Golden Throats from Rhino Records? They were collections of hilariously bad recordings by celebrity singers, and one of them included Andy Griffith’s frightening take on “House of the Rising Sun.” That performance suggests it would be wise to steer clear of Themes and Laughs from The Andy Griffith Show (1961). 

Surprisingly, though, the record makes for very pleasant, nostalgic listening, particularly Griffith’s finger-snapping cover of the show’s theme song, “The Fishin’ Hole.” Still sadly unreleased – Francis Bavier’s pioneering gangsta rap masterpiece, “Fight the Power Aunt Bea.” 

Next Week: The Brady Bunch, Hogan’s Heroes, Star Trek, The Odd Couple, Laverne & Shirley and more!

The Comfort TV Career of Meredith Baxter

 

The Internet Movie Database lists more than 100 credits for Meredith Baxter; 90 of them are for television. Her career began in an era when TV stars rarely crossed into film, but even after such transitions became commonplace she apparently had no such aspirations.  Next month, she joins the cast of The Young and the Restless.

I decided to write about her because I don’t think enough people do. 

Some TV actors are taken for granted, perhaps because consistent proficiency in a wide range of projects is not as esteemed as a single transcendent character or performance. Meredith Baxter starred in one of television’s best dramas and one of its best-loved situation comedies, appeared as a regular or recurring character in three other shows, earned four Emmy nominations and headlined enough TV movies for a Lifetime network marathon that would last a week.

Whatever she was in, she made it better, and that’s something you can’t say about a lot of performers with higher-profile careers. That’s why I’ve channeled my inner Ralph Edwards to celebrate her television achievements – This is Your Comfort TV Life, Meredith Baxter.

Her first year with professional credits – 1971 – includes a memorable appearance on The Partridge Family, in the season 2 episode “Where Do Mermaids Go?” In one of her rare screen performances as a brunette, Baxter plays a bohemian heiress, whom the Partridges first meet when she is skinny-dipping in a rural pond (talk about making an entrance!). In return for the family’s kindness, she deposits one million dollars in their bank account. 

Hippie characters in this era of television were usually played somewhat broadly, with a lot of now-archaic slang. Baxter brings a grounded, melancholy, mature-beyond-her-years quality to an often-clichéd role. And in her close-ups, you may be entranced as I was by the most stunning blue eyes of anyone on TV, with the possible exception of Lara Parker from Dark Shadows.

Just one year later she was headlining her own series, one created by Partridge Family creator Bernard Slade. Baxter played Bridget Teresa Mary Colleen Fitzgerald, an Irish Catholic school teacher who falls in love at first sight with cab driver Bernie Steinberg. “I think we have a problem,” they realize, and that was the introduction to Bridget Loves Bernie (1972-1973).

The couple’s inter-religious marriage and the culture clash of their respective in-laws was the launching point for many of the episodes, but the topics were not explored with the frankness and harder edge of All in the Family, which debuted the previous year. Instead, Bridget Loves Bernie was a sweet and gentle sitcom that worked because of the chemistry between Baxter and costar David Birney, whom she married (and later divorced).    

Despite being ranked fifth in the ratings among all shows that season, CBS shut it down out of concern over adverse reactions from a vocal minority of intolerant viewers. More than 40 years later it’s still the highest-rated TV series to be canceled. Not one of television’s prouder moments.

Following guest appearances on Barnaby Jones, Medical Center and Police Woman, as well as leads in several TV movies (one of the best being The Night That Panicked America, a dramatization of Orson Welles’ War of the Worlds), Baxter played Meg in a miniseries adaptation of Little Women, featuring Greer Garson, Dorothy McGuire and a cast rich in classic TV stars, from Susan Dey and Eve Plumb to William Shatner and Robert Young.

But it was her next series, Family (1976-1980), that for me still resonates most amidst her remarkable resume. Meredith Baxter joined the show in season 2, taking over the role of Nancy Maitland from Elayne Heilveil. 

Family is one of the best shows of the ‘70s and its not accessible anywhere now, outside of a discontinued DVD release of the first two seasons. Maybe we’ve lost the capacity to appreciate shows like this. After 20 years of sensationalized reality TV, the idea of dramatizing the normal low-key reality of life with one Pasadena family now seems like an incomplete pitch; what’s the hook? Is the father psychic or is the mother leading a double life? Does the son have super powers? Is the daughter a Muslim or a pop singer or something else that will bring in a broader demographic?

When the writing and the acting are as perfect as they are here, no other incentive should be necessary. To watch Family is to be wholly drawn into the joys and sorrows and relationships of fictional characters, and to believe that every word they say is extemporaneous, and could not possibly have been typed by someone else months earlier.

And to think we’ve come this far without even mentioning Family Ties (1982-1989), the show for which the actress is certainly best-known. Baxter was top-billed but quickly ceded the spotlight to Michael J. Fox, who Arthur Fonzarelli-ed the rest of the cast into supporting roles. Still, many of the show’s best episodes feature Elyse Keaton, whether she was dragging Alex home from an alcohol-fueled party (season 2’s “Birthday Boy”) or going on a blackjack binge in Atlantic City (season 3’s “The Gambler”).  

When you factor in all of Meredith Baxter’s post-Comfort TV credits – from a Emmy-nominated performance in A Woman Scorned: The Betty Broderick Story (1992) to more recent appearances on Brothers & Sisters and Cold Case and Glee, it all adds up to time well spent in one’s chosen profession. And by all accounts she’s a pretty nice person too.

Not sure I’ll be watching her on Young and the Restless – even Daisy Duke joining the cast could not turn me into a regular viewer – but it makes me happy to know she’s still somewhere on television.